#harry hook smut

[descendantofthesparrow]

Cant stop this feeling - Harry Hook x reader- SMUT FIC- p2

SMUT FIC-MINORS DNI- All ‘important’ characters are 18+!

warning; slightly dubcon due to drugged sex, only Harry is drugged (he fully aware about what's going on and is consensual (both parties are), but its still drugged sex) basically sex pollen smut but its sex potion, SMUT, unprotected sex (don worry (y/n) is on birth control), rough sex, hella swearing and dirty talk. breeding kink

i still think this is the best thing ive ever written (smut wise)

=

Chubby!reader-no fem pronouns used but using female anatomy cuz this is fully self-indulgent, im still very much getting used to writing smut so i’ll be sticking with fem biology for a bit longer until i’m fully comfortable writing that, then I’ll start experimenting.

=

God dammit again?!

Only a few hours after dinner, pretty much-an hour- before he had knocked on your door the night before, Harry was in front of you once again, cheeks flushed, panting, and eyes dilated with lust. “Again?” you whispered, reaching out and cupping his overheated cheek and Harry melted into you, your simple touch providing intense relief.

“Aye, started a few minutes ago,” Harry grunted as a cramp washed through his body, thankfully not as painful as they were yesterday. “Didn’t want ta wait n end up like last night; smelled ye’ again too.” you stared up at Harry, sighing as you realized you were going to have to help him again. Not that you minded but, something was clearly very wrong if this was happening two nights in a row, and seemingly at the same time both nights.

You pulled Harry into your cabin, locking the door behind him. You turned, your nose almost meeting Harry’s face, he was so close to you; his hands twitching with the urge to touch you. “Darlin’” Harry rasped, drool already accumulating in his mouth. You gave him a comforting smile, leaning up and kissing him softly, humming against his lips as he whimpered, his nimble hands clutching to your plush waist.

“I dunno if I’ll be able to control myself, m’ sorry if I hurt yeh” Harry whispered into your mouth, already backing you up to press you to the wall next to the door, his hands drawing down to your sleep shorts and slipping inside, pushing his fingers into your heated skin. You just smiled against his lips, winking at him; chuckling as his cheeks got even darker “I told you; I like it like that” you muttered, your breath stolen from you as Harry fully pressed against you, his fully hardened cock pressed against your already aching core; his lips on yours in a searing kiss.

His hips rut into yours, sending shivers up your spine as his cock rubbed against your ever-sensitive clit. Thank god you didn’t give those magic pills back to Uma yet, you were going to need them in the morning. Harry moaned into your mouth and suddenly you were all too aware of where he had you pressed up. You pushed at his chest, his hands withdrawing from your shorts, his eyes glassy and confused “too close to the door” was all you said before you were picked up and moved to the other side of the room, now being pressed against the wall next to your bathroom. “better” you muttered before being kissed again, your shorts being pushed down in a feverish motion, your underwear going with them as Harry started to get onto his knees, kissing your exposed skin as he did.

You gasped as Harry’s tongue met your clit, his wonderfully long and thin fingers trailing the lips of your cunt, soaking up all the wetness that had already accumulated there and inserting a finger into you. You grabbed his hair, curling your fingers into the soft curly locks, moaning and rutting against his mouth and fingers as he dutifully prepared you for his cock.

Even under some sort of-lust spell or whatever it was-he was ever the gentleman. Soon a 2nd finger joined the first, loosening you up in careful thrusting motions that he meshed with spreading his fingers to stretch you out. “mmmf” you huffed, out, your head hitting the wall as a third finger slid into you, his mouth still licking and socking at your clit, sometimes his teeth would gently slide over the sensitive bud and it made your knees buckle every time, his free hand keeping you upright.

You looked down, surprised to see Harry staring right back at you, his eyes not as dark as the night before. You swallowed harshly, realizing this was more ‘him’ than you thought “Didn’t you say you had no experience prior to all this?” you panted, eyes rolling back as Harry’s fingers pressed against your g-spot and he fluttered his tongue against your clit. He chuckled against you, pulling back for only a moment, his lips and chin covered in you. “goin’ on instincts…and whatever” he nodded down at himself, a cheeky grin on his lips “this is” at that, he latched onto you again, trying to get you to your peak and make sure you were ready for him.

You twitched and whined as you felt that coil in your gut begin to tighten, chest rising with each pant that escaped your lips. “H-Harry~” you breathed out, tugging at his hair as he brought you to the edge “Aah~” he pulled out and off, licking his lips as you kicked his thigh “h-hey! Not nice!” Harry just chuckled darkly, his eyes once again that dark stormy blue. He stood, taking off his shirt and pants, pulling his underwear down just enough to free himself, and unlike last night, the tip of his cock was a dripping peach red, ready to go.

“One word and I’ll leave” Harry rasped into your ear, his arms on either side of you, his right arm drawing down to grab the inside of your leg. You leaned into him and licked his jaw, gasping as his wonderfully thick cock pushed into you a moment later. Like the night before, he started at an even pace, just letting you get used to him before he was fucking you like you were nothing but a lifeless toy against the wall. Your butt hit the wall with each thrust, one leg pinned to the wall with his hand keeping it elevated. His other hand was on your waist, gripping you so tightly you were sure you were going to bruise.

You and Harry were practically molded together, his chest pressed against yours and he chuckled at the feeling of your breasts bouncing against him. He pulled away just slightly, using his left hand to pull your shirt off, leaning down and devouring your skin, putting himself in an awkward position to lick at your breasts. He growled against your skin as his neck started to hurt, and he grabbed your other leg “jump” he muttered as he stood up, kissing you as you did as told and wrapped your legs around his hips, your head hitting the wall as the slightly new position helped Harry go even deeper.

“ah-ahhh~” you could feel your drool leak down the side of your chin, your body bouncing with each hard thrust into your cunt. You could feel his drool as well, dripping from his mouth where it was buried in your shoulder, leaking down your collar bone and going in between your breasts. You almost squeaked as he pulled away, licking up his spit from between your breasts and back up to your shoulder, licking and biting your neck when he reached his target. He sucked hard at the crook of your neck and you rocked against him, humming as he shuddered, stopping his rough thrusts for a moment to grind into you, rolling his hips just right to send lightning up your spine. “ho-shit” you gasped, tossing your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer, lips at his ear. “Don-don’t stoooop mmmmf Harry~”

He kissed you, hard, and you could feel the blood rush to your lips as he bruised them. He continued to rock into you, throwing a few shallow thrusts in as well before pounding into you once more; every five thrusts he would grind again, a few shallow thrusts, and then back to the hard rhythm

It was fucking wonderful, the coil in your gut only getting tighter with how he took care of you, even when controlled by something else. His hand pulled away from your hip, nimble fingers rubbing at your swollen clit until your orgasm hit you hard, your toes curled and your vision went white, gasping as your hearing went out as well, a harsh ringing overpowering everything else; including the sound of Harry fucking your wet cunt.

He fucked you through your high until you were back on earth, panting heavily as you already felt another one building up, you writhed under his grip, holding him close as you clenched around him, trying to get him to come so he could get whatever the fuck it was out of his system. “c’mon Harry, fuck me, fill me, come inside me” you purred into his ear, your voice silenced as he kissed you again, biting your lip hard as his hips stuttered to a stop; and once again, an anatomically impossible amount of cum flooded your cunt, so much you could almost feel it. Harry’s hand landed on your belly, his thumb rubbing the space where your womb was.

“fuck” he whispered, opening his eyes slightly, the darkness clouding them went away just slightly. He had the right idea to come to you right away instead of waiting and trying to rub it out. Last time he couldn’t even speak until he came a 2nd time. “better?” you whispered, and Harry looked at you, his brows furrowed at your swollen lips and bruising neck.

He nodded, cracking his neck as another wave of heat washed over him “yeah-but” he groaned slightly, feeling you clench around him “still not done” he muttered, pulling you close and lifting you off the wall, turning to toss you on the bed, positioning you to lay sideways, your left leg now resting on his shoulder and the other curling around his left thigh. You moaned softly as his still hard cock throbbed from within you, some of his cum leaking out as he started off slow again, spilling down your thigh and once again pooling on the sheets. “fuck” Harry grumbled, glaring down at the offending substance.

Harry angled himself a bit better and fucked you into the mattress, your hips and thigh pinned as he used you. You couldn’t breathe, the air knocked out of your lungs with each hard thrust. “fu-aahk~” you moaned out, shuddering as Harry darkly chuckled from above you “you fucking like tha’? ye fucking slut, so fucking greedy fer me cock, jus’ like last night. Fuck fuck fuck” Harry panted out, his eyes somehow darker than the night before as he slammed into you, somehow harder than the previous time only a minute before “gonna fucking fill ye till ye fuckin’ pop, get yeh all full of me cum, fuuukin” Harry’s hips stuttered as his 2nd orgasm quickly approached, along with yours “get yeh pregnant, look all fuckin’ cute with a big belly” you felt yourself flush at his words, damn did he have a breeding kink or something? Because holy fuck he was getting off on the idea of getting you pregnant, clearly.

Harry came to a near stop, rutting and grinding up into you as he came inside once more. You moaned softly at the feeling, the overflow squirting out and onto the bed, soaking your inner thighs and Harry's pelvis. “shit-“ Harry cursed, and you noticed as he sat up, his eyes were brighter, maybe this time you wouldn’t go for five fucking rounds like last night.

But you would tell he wasn’t done yet; his cock still rock hard and twitching inside you. As Harry pulled out, you could feel his cum follow, pouring out of your cunt and pooling on the sheets till they dripped off the side. “How in the fuck am I doin’ tha?” Harry asked himself, one hand on your knee as he admired your leaking cunt. You chuckled weakly from under his body, lifting your leg to take it off his shoulder and rest it on your other leg, giving your hips a break “I think we should ask whatever is in your body?” you rasped out, voice almost gone from how it was being used.

Harry chuckled, licking his lips as he stared down at you, god you were so fucking cute, well fucked sparkling (e/c) eyes staring back up at him, swollen lips smirking at your stupid joke, your skin glistening with sweat and cum covering your inner thighs. How had he never noticed you before? How had he simply walked past you for the last two years?

He leaned down, catching your lips in a gentle kiss, his hands trailing up your sides to cup your face, chuckling as you made a confused noise at the gentleness of it all. He pulled away, smiling as you stared up at him. you moaned softly as he pushed back inside you, gently rocking into you, almost covering you with his body as he fucked you gently. He mentally patted himself on the back for getting to you sooner than later, it would definitely take less time to purge whatever it was from his system, last time he wasn't even in control until after his 3rd orgasm.

He slid his hand between your legs, playing with your swollen clit until you came, squeezing him tightly as you shuddered, cheeks flushed and chest rising with heavy pants. You came to a slow-burning but just as intense orgasm, clenching around Harry as you came on his cock. He groaned quietly, lips grazing your collarbone as he fucked you through it, his fingers never leaving your clit. A few moments later he came again, filling you up even more until there was no room, spilling out between the crevices between Harry’s cock and your cunt.

“Dammit” Harry huffed, he was still hard, and he could still feel that hazy cloud of arousal in his head, his body thrumming with lust. He looked up, seeing you looking back at him, frowning slightly “still there?” you asked quietly and Harry nodded, sighing slightly; pausing as you lifted your shaky legs and rested them next to his head, your thick thighs set right in front of his dick “use my thighs” you muttered, head falling back as Harry kissed your calves and did as told, sliding his cock in between your thighs, fucking them hard and slow.

You squeezed your thighs together with your remaining strength, letting yourself moan and pant as he groaned loudly, clutching onto your legs as If they were the answer to his life’s problems. You could feel the head of his cock rub against your clit with each thrust, and you looked down to see the leaking tip push through your thighs.

You giggled a bit, biting your lip and letting yourself enjoy the moment and the slow feeling of your 3rd orgasm building up with each pass on your clit. You hummed as Harry’s fingers found your clit again, rubbing it when his cock didn’t, you both came at the same time, thin ropes of cum decorating your belly. You could feel Harry go soft between your thighs, but he didn’t move, just breathing heavily as he felt himself finally tire out.

“oh thank the gods” Harry muttered, pulling out of your thighs and setting your legs down gently “I don’t think I could’ve gone fer five rounds even if I was amped up like last night” you hummed, thinking the same thing, and it seems your theory was right, Harry coming to you right away instead of trying to rub it out led to him purging whatever it was in his body quickly.

Harry’s warm hands rubbed your body, leaning over you carefully “Are ye okay?” Harry asked quietly, smiling at you softly as you peered up at him. you hummed again, shrugging “I’ll definitely feel it in the morning” you joked, giggling as Harry rolled his eyes, standing up and getting a new set of soft towels to clean you up with.

He walked back over to you with several warm damp towels, about to sit you up when he thought better of it, and grabbed one big towel to set below your hips, looking down at the pool of cum that continued to drip onto the floor “that’s gonna be fun to clean” he grumbled, sitting you up on the towel after making you wrap your arms around him, eyes going wide as most of his cum that was still inside you flooded out, and thank god he got a towel because wow there was a lot “what the fuck is going on? I should not be able to…have that much?!” Harry said in a nearly panicked tone, something was definitely up, he had to ask Uma about this no matter how embarrassing it was going to be to explain.

You giggled at the absurdity of it all, leaning back to grin at Harry who stared wide-eyed at you “imagine feeling that inside you, and only getting more of it every time the other one comes” you teased, giggling as Harry looked very apologetic, bumping his head into yours “m’sorry” he grumbled, taking a damp towel and running it over your body, lifting your hips to clean your abused cunt. Harry then laid you back out on the bed, pulling up his underwear over his finally soft dick and getting to work on cleaning his mess on the sheets and floor. Luckily only the cover was ruined so he simply replaced that, doing his best to clean off the rest so-once again- the cleaning crew wasn’t traumatized.

“We do need to find out what's going on” you muttered sleepily from your spot on the bed, hands curled under your pillow as Harry collected your discarded clothes “really-it’s almost as if you got spelled or…I dunno’ drugged with somethin’” Harry popped up at that, looking at you as if you had just told him the meaning of the universe “what?” you asked quietly, already falling asleep. he shook his head, smiling softly.

“nothin’ just-that might be what’s goin’ on…some isle kids ain’t above doing something like tha’” Harry muttered, brows furrowing as if he ate something sour. You hummed, eyes fluttering closed as you fought off sleep. Harry pulled his pants and shirt on, biting his lip as he glanced between you and the door. He decided to once again not leave you alone after fucking you four times, it just felt rude if he did. He went to pull out the couch bed but was interrupted by you patting the space next to you, looking back at him all sleepy.

“tis more comfy” you muttered, smiling as Harry walked over to you, pausing to grab your clothes from the edge of the bed where he left them and helping you get dressed so you weren’t in the nude for the rest of the night. “yer takin’ one of those pills as soon as ye wake up, got it?” Harry muttered, sliding his arm under your head as you cuddled into him. you nodded, just happy to have a cuddle buddy. You sat up, realizing you had to go to the bathroom, and wiggled out of bed, yelping as your legs gave out as soon as you stood. Harry caught you with impeccable speed, sighing in relief when you didn’t hit the floor. “c’mon” Harry grumbled, suddenly feeling very tired as he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the bathroom, stepping out to let you go in privacy.

Soon you were back in bed with the handsome pirate, falling asleep in his arms as he got comfortable with you next to him. he once again thought; why did it take me so long to see you? He kissed your forehead, falling asleep with ease.

Hopefully, this wouldn’t happen the next night.

-the next night, in Harry’s room-

Harry stared up at the ceiling, glaring at nothing as that now unmistakable heat rose in his body, his dick getting harder by the moment.

Oh god dammit, again?!

-end of part 2-

hehehehehe, Tommy/Harry tiddies

@sephiralorange​

#harry hook x reader #Harry Hook smut #smut fic #kinda hardcore stuff #not tagging main fandom since its smut #rough smut #hard smut #MINORS DNI

[antishadow2021]

Hey everyone I'm new to the fanfic writing so bare with me but here is a list of characters, fandoms and things I'm am comfortable writing most of this is self indulgence tbh BTW this list will get updated as I finish watching certain things so I know each character well enough

Characters/Fandoms

Star wars:

Obi wan kenobi

Ankin skywalker/darth vader

Captain rex

Cad bane

The bad batch:

Hunter

Wrecker

Echo

Tech

Crosshair

Helluva boss:

Blitz

Striker

Vortex

Hazbin hotel:

Alaster

Vox

Valentino

The walking dead:

Daryl dixon

Merle dixon

Rick grimes

Call of duty:

Ghost

Soap

Price

Kogin

Apex legends:

Revenant

Octane

Caustic

Crypto

Mirage

Anime (couldn't be bothered to make a category for each character):

Ban

Bakugo

Dabi

Hawks

Shinsou

Shigiraki

Kurroo

Okiwa

Bokuto

Sukuna

Itadori

Megumi

Gojo

Guzma

Ryuk

Random:

Rick sanchez

Joel

Eddie mudnson

Eddie brock/ venom

These are most of the ones I can think of

What I'm comfortable writing:

Smut

Fluff

Angst

Lime

M and F

What I am not comfortable writing:

Incest

Beastialty

Underaged

Scat/watersports

Vore

This will get updated just pop me a request and I will answer as quickly as I can

Requests are open

Thanks 😊

#masterlist #cad bane smut #pedro pascal smut #harry hook smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #call of duty smut #rrequess are open #request #new to this

[arewordsenough]

Rated Explicit - 1.8k One Shot - M/M - Explicit Sexual Content

Summary: Chad and Carlos have had a secret fling going on for a while. Today that fling is going to become less of a secret.

Based on a prompt from one of my readers.

Featured group/pairing: Ben/Carlos de Vil/Chad Charming & Harry Hook/Carlos de Vil

Key Tags: Caught, Orgy

This fic is a follow up to A Charming Compromise, but can also be read stand alone.

The final Sequel September fic! The first SMUTober fic is already in editing, so you'll be seeing it pretty soon. 😉

#descendants fanfiction #gay smut #chad charming #carlos de vil #ben florian #king ben #harry hook #my writing

[plantenbylvr]

The realization i’ve made is that every version of Hook is attractive.

In Descendants Harry Hook is the best character.

In every single Peter Pan retelling I’ve loved Hook.

The list goes on and on.

#I always fall for the misunderstood villain

#feelings #books #book tropes #captain hook #harry hook #smut

[ginervacade]

Evil Giggles.

Summary: Daisy and Uma really enjoy teasing their boys.

Pairing: Harry/Uma/Gil/Original female character

Warnings: not really anything. Implied smut at the end but it’s all off screen.

This thing is purely self indulgent and terrible but here it is anyway.

****

They were doing it on purpose. Harry and Gil both knew that the girls were trying to get them riled up. But damnit it was working!!

Both girls had been gone when they woke up, though neither boy is sure how they managed to escape the middle of the bed without waking either of them. They could hear giggling when they got to the chip shop and when they followed the melodic sounds back to the kitchen they found their girls. They could tell that Uma saw them from the spark of mischief in her eyes as she whispered something to Daisy who responded by lifting her captain onto the counter and kissing her deeply. Both boys blushed at the position they had found them in, a bit shocked that Daisy was strong enough to do that. Harry loudly cleared his throat to get their attention. There was that giggle again before Daisy turned to face them. “ You two finally woke up, huh?” She said with a smirk, “ Good mornin’”

Then she turned back to Uma, gently brushing a thumb over the captain’s lips to remove the traces of her own lipstick, before helping her off of the counter and leading her out of the room. Daisy’s usual spot between the boys is left empty at breakfast as she sits across the table with Uma this morning, occasionally letting the older girl feed her a spoonful of food. When it’s time to get to work the girls finally cross to their side of the table, Uma standing behind Gil and Daisy behind Harry. They tilt the chin of their respective boy back to look up at them before giving them a chaste peck on the lips. When the boys go to kiss the opposite girl they find their heads turned toward each other instead and that same sinister little pair of giggles echoes in their ears.

Daisy, who is always tactile with the boys, always seeking pressure, focuses that energy on Uma instead. Harry and Gil are both aware of what they’re doing and as gorgeous as they are when unable to keep their hands off each other, they’re also incredibly frustrating. All day they tease them. Daisy keeps letting Gil get close to her before twirling out of his grasp at the last second. Every time Harry reaches for Uma she gives him a task to do across the room from her.

At midafternoon break neither boy can keep still. Gil’s leg bounces unconsciously, missing the weight of one of the girls on his lap and Harry taps the side of his hook against his lips, where he usually has one of the girl’s’ hands. Uma sits on her seashell throne, Daisy in her lap. Harry growls in frustration, seeing both girls eyes on them. He thinks he can counteract their play, pulling Gil into a forceful kiss. Gil kisses him back with the same pent up energy and it’s clear he’s thinking the same thing. When they pull back the girls have matching smirks. They’re playing right into their hands.

“ What’s my name sweetheart?” Gil hears Uma say and the reverence in Daisy’s voice as she replies, “ Uma,” slow and shuddery has him squeezing his legs together in search of friction.

By nightfall, both boys are fuming. “ Are you two coming,” Uma calls behind her as she leads Daisy back to her cabin. Harry and Gil hurry after them. Right when they reach the door Harry tosses Uma over his shoulder, and Gil grabs Daisy by the hip, spinning her through the door and pressing her against the wall. Harry kicks the door to and tosses Uma onto the bed. He bends down, crashing his lips against her hungrily. Gil’s hands move from Daisy’s hips, one pinning her hands above her head and the other gripping her ass. Daisy can feel from where his hips are pressed against her just how she’s been effecting him all day. Uma finds Harry in the same state. There’s that same giggle that’s been eating at the boys all day, this time right against their lips and they both groan obscenely at the sound.

“ If the two of you don’t want those clothes torn, you had best be getting out of them.” Harry warns, as he kicks off his boots.

The next day both girls wear high collars and pout around all day when Harry and Gil decide they need a taste of their own medicine.

#descendants fanfiction #descendants #harry hook descendants #harry hook x uma #Harry hook x Gil #gil x uma #Harry x Gil x Uma #sea three #poly sea three #poly sea three x original character #Harry hook x original female character #gil legume #Gil x original female character #uma descendants #Uma x original female character #disney descendants #I never can write smut #but i can do this

[impishtubist]

Wolfstar raising Harry this and Wolfstar raising Harry that well what about Wolfstar raising Neville 👀

#catie is off the hook because they already wrote this #but the rest of you are on thin ice #bonus: wolfstar raising harry AND neville #bonus bonus: jegulus raising harry and wolfstar raising neville #also i'm kidding about there being too much wolfstar raising harry because there ISN'T #and 90% of it is wolfstar smut and then 10% is actually raising harry #so disappointing

[piratecore-art]

Fanfic- pairing Ben/harry/Uma

Rating: explicit

King Benjamin Florin Beast held his head high.

It was what he’d been taught.

The pirates jeered as Harry Hook and Gil Gaston led him up the ship’s gangway and onto deck.

He’d been striped of his jacket, hat and shoes already, leaving him in a thin blue shirt and studded pants- with bright aradon-yellow socks.

Ben was still cursing himself for being caught, for being recognized by Gil in the first place. He should never have shown up on the isle looking and acting like a target.

Harry snickered as he purposely tripped ben and ben fought a growl.

Making enemies won’t do you any good, he reminded himself.

He glared at the objectivly attractive first mate, taking in the other boy’s ocean azure eyes painted with black khol, his strong musceles and lean frame, his…

He glanced away, blushing.

He lifted his chin again, determined to keep his demeanor.

And then he saw… her.

Uma.

The captain of the pirates, the queen of the Isle.

She was standing at the prow of the small ship, her long, heavy braids flowing in the wind, small shells and strands of teal caught among them. Her chin was strong and proud, lifted, just like his, head high like royalty.

She was stunning.

A smirk painted her lips as she beheld him, the captive king, flanked by her loyal first and second mates.

Harry snarled. “Keep yer eyes to yerself, beast.”

Ben glanced down, flushing yet again.

Uma swayed as she walked twords them. “Bring him below deck.”

“You don’t want to do this,” ben protested, trying one last desperate bid for freedom. “Whatever it is you want, we can negotiate-”

Uma spun around and grabbed the young king’s chin harshly. “I don’t negotiate with tyrants.”

The words spun in his ears as gill grabbed his arms and dragged him harshly beneath the deck, harry following after with a crazed giggle.

I don’t negotiate with tyrants.

Is that how she saw him? How all of the Isle saw him?

He’d never even considered the possibility before.

In the eyes of auradon, he was either just and merciful, or too soft-hearted. No one would consider him… tyrannical.

But to the people his father had imprisoned, to the children he’d failed to rescue…

He had thought, at first, that uma must be working for her mother. But slowly, he was beginning to realize they respected her as a leader in her own right, in a way Mal had never been.

The split up at the stairs, gil leaving to attend to his other duties while harry dragged ben down into the dark depths of the ship. When they reached the bottom of the creaking wooden staircase, he shoved ben roughly to his knees.

Ben let out an oof as his body made impact with the hard wood boards, feeling a splinter worm its way trough his jeans and into his knee, but unable to touch it with his hands bound behind his back.

Harry circled his captive slowly.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, ben could finally get a good look at harry. The other boy was tall- taller than him- and lean, muscled and hungry-looking. His eyes held a gleam of insanity, and his face was split in a manic grin.

Ben shivered slightly as he felt the force of that intense gaze directed at him.

The dark kohl around harry’s eyes gave him the appearance of almost a skeletal presence, something dark and dastardly come from the king’s nightmares to taunt him.

He forced himself to meet harry’s eyes, but insted of being intimidated, the first mate’s grin merely grew.

“I bet-” he chuckled, low and dirty- “I bed i get to hook ye. I bet uma lets me-” he licked his lips and leaned down, pushing the tip of his hook under ben’s chin- “i bet uma lets me do all kinds of-”

“You don’t have to obey her!”

The words were out of ben’s mouth before he could think them through.

Harry froze. “What’s that supposed to mean, benny?”

Ben’s tongue flicked nervously over his lips. “I just meant… you don’t need to do what she says. You don’t have to hurt people. If she, or your father, are making you do stuff-”

“My father is dead!” harry snapped his teeth in ben’s face. “Uma killed him. So no, he’s not making me do stuff.”

Ben felt ice flood through his veins. Uma had killed hook?

“She- but if she hurt someone you love, why would you follow her? Are you scared of her, or…” ben trailed off when harry let out a loud, high pitched screech of laughter.

“Loved? You think I loved him? Oh, that’s funny.”

His face turned suddenly serious, and he leaned in to whisper in ben’s ear. “All the old man ever did was fucking hurt me. So no, I didn’t love him. And I follow Uma because she saved me.”

Ben closed his eyes, feeling the sharp tip of harry’s hook slide over te skin of his neck in a blatant tease, feeling harry’s warm breath against is ear, feeling-

“Harry. Leave it.”

Ben’s eyes snapped open at Uma’s voice.

She stood in the doorway, her leather teal and black skirt swishing around her hips. She spoke firmly, but a small smile still painted her lips as she gave harry a fond, exhasperated look.

He grinned unapolageticaly back at her. “Just getting him ready for you, darling.”

The endeerment through ben for a loop.

Mal had told him there was n0 ‘dating’ on the isle, discribing it as more gang activity. So to have harry call Uma darling, in front of a proiosoner no less, was strange.

Something pullsed in ben’s heart, an almost ache.

He’d always thought mal’s cold and withdrawn mannerisims were just part of her isle upbringing, always been so convinsed that what they had was true love, even when she pushed him away.

But if Uma and Harry could be openly affectionate… maybe he was wrong.

Maybe he was the problem.

He looked up to find Uma staring at him with a cutrious look on her face. He tried to rally himself.

Im trapped in the bowels of a pirate ship surrounded by Vk’s, he thought. Now is not the time.

“Harry,” Uma drawled, “I think the king is wearing a little too much to be comfortable. After all, it’s quite warm today.”

Harry and ben both froze in confusion.

What?

Uma gestured to the bound and helpless king. “Well, harry? You heard your captian. Get to work.”

Harry hesitated a second longer, then a smile slowly crawled across his face, getting more manic by the second. “Well well well, benny-boo. Let’s see what’s under those fancy auradon rags.”

Ben swollowed hard.

Harry stalked twords him slowly.

He slipped the tip of his hook under the thin material of ben’s navy shirt, and with a distinct rippp, it gave way.

Be nshiverd in the cold air.

Harry ripped the shirt in half, then shoved it down, letting it slide to a stop at harry’s bound hands.

“Pants next,” uma hummed from where she watched. She had taken up residence in a sturdy-looking chair encrusted with seashells that ben hadn’t previously noticed in the gloom, and sat with one leg neatly crossed over the other.

Ben shivered under her penetrating gaze.

Harry yanked ben roughly to his feet and stripped him, leaving him in nothing but boxers and socks.

Harry and Uma both stared.

Ben blushed, glancing down at his blue underwhere covered in little yellow crowns.

He was humiliated.

And then it got so much worse.

Because under their stares, he began to feel himself growing hard. His cock strained agianst his boxers, the tip leaking slightly.

Harry gave a low whistle.

“So he likes humiliation.” He smirked, speaking to uma as though Ben wasn’t even in the room. Uma smiled, a low, predatory thing.

“Perfect.”

Ben shuddered, his eyes wide with fear.

Harry moved tword him again. He grabbed Ben's hands and reached up, hooking his bound wrists to a chain dangling from the ceiling. Ben felt his body stretch, his toes just touching the ground. He felt utterly helpless.

And it was making him so desprate.

He wanted Harry to touch him.

Wait.

He meant- he wanted Uma to touch him, surely? Uma was the one who was getting him worked up, the one making him hard.

Because… Harry was a man.

And Ben wasn’t gay.

He couldn’t be.

King Adem had made sure of that.

He’d screamed at ben enough about being a fag, about how the futer king could never be in love with a boy. It was bad enough that ben linked being dominated by women, he shouldn’t- couldn’t- like men.

And yet, he’d never wanted Audrey or even Mal the way he wanted Harry right now.

And Harry obliged him.

He slid his hand slowly over ben’s torso, lightly muscled from tourney, squeezed at his pecs, ran a hand over his delicate throat- all under Uma’s watchfull eye.

“Pretty,” she cooed. “Two pretty boys.”

Ben glanced at Harry, who was inches away from his face with his hands on ben’s biceps, expecting him to protest at being called pretty. But instead, a gentle blush stained the son of Hook's face.

“Thank ye, Uma,” he murmured.

A beat passed.

“Well?” Uma said. “Aren’t you going to thank me, Ben?”

Ben debated, but te end of Harry’s hook prodding the underside of his chin made the decision for him. “Thank you, Uma,” he growled.

“Now, harry, why don’t you show our guest a good time?” Uma leaned back in her chair with a smirk.

Harry growled with pleasure, leaning forward and licking and sucking at one of ben’s dusky nipples. Ben arched into his mouth with a cry.

Harry bit down, and Ben squirmed, letting out a high-picthced noise of pleasure and pain. Harry grinned against ben’s pale skin. Next, he used is mouth to lick at the young king’s coller bone, laving with his tongue over each freckle, twisting it like he wanted to savore the taste.

And then he dropped to his knees.

Cupping Ben’s length, he swallowed it whole.

Uma and Ben groaned in unison, and ben looked up to see te pirate queen with her gorgeous strong thighs spread, a hand tucked beneath her leggings pleasuring herself to the sight of harry sucking Ben off.

And suck Harry did.

He lavished Ben’s rock-hard length with tongue and lips and even teeth, gently nibbling the end, making Ben moan and squirm, trying depratly to thrust into te warm heat of Harry’s mouth.

“Harry- Uma- please-”

Ben lost himself in incoherent moans, not even realizeing he’d been redused to begging for release.

And yet, Harry held off just enough, teasing and edging the king, till he was wild wit pleasure and desperation.

And then Uma spoke again.

“Let him use you, Harry,” she mo0aned.

Harry stood, released the king’s hands fro mthe chains, and dropped back to his knees.

Ben didn’t even try to escape.

Instead, he looped his hands through harry’s pretty brown curls, thrusting wildly into his open, wet mouth with a moan. He fucked the other man’s face thouroughly, making the pirate gag with each thrust, all while Uma’s moans filled the air.

He barely even noticed Harry tucking a hand into his own pants to pleasure himself, too busy chasing the orgasm, the height of intensity-

And then he came, hard, Harry swallowing down every drop, milking his length.

Ben Collapsed to the floor, thoroughly spent.

“Good boy,” Uma cooed.

She and her first mate had both orgasmed as well.

She staliked over to Ben, who barely protested as she yanked him to his feet.

“Get dressed. It’s neary time to give you back to Mal.”

Ben froze. “What?”

Uma glanced over her shoulder and laughed. “You didn’t really think we’d keep you? No, Benny-boo, we’re trading you. The king for the wand, to bring down the barrier.”

Ben felt so foolish.

All this.. It meant nothing to them.

He glanced at Harry, but the first mate didn’t make eye contact as he stalked away, leaving Ben bound on the floor.

It was over.

#descendants 2 #harry hook descendants #uma descendants #harryxuma #ben descendants #disney descendants #huma #explict #smut

[descendantsafterdark]

No Satisfaction

❗minors dni❗

Relationship: Evie x Harry x Uma (also includes glimpses of Evie x Harry, Harry x Uma, & Evie x Uma)

Word count: 7194

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Tired of her usual routine, an unsatisfied princess is looking for a little fun. And she knows the perfect pirates for the job.

Warnings: The story contains mentions of an underage Evie having non consensual sexual relations with older men, but it’s not explicit. The main meat of the story is cnc - a consensual nonconsensual scenario. Evie gave her consent to everything with Uma and Harry beforehand, and there are hints to that in the story, but everyone’s words and actions read like a forced scenario. There is also a considerable amount of slut shaming, manhandling, and tentacles, as well as spanking, slapping, hair pulling, biting, and more

[read on ao3 (or see a full list of warning tags)]

Evie sat at her vanity, focused intently on her reflection as she did her hair and makeup. The Isle's premier princess had a date tonight. One that she actually wanted to participate in.

Evie’s reputation seemed to reach every last corner of the Isle. Flirt. Heartbreaker. Tease. Slut. She’d heard it all before. And the funny thing was, she wasn’t even responsible for any of it.

Well, not for most of it.

It was her mother, the Evil Queen, that laid a hand in all of Evie’s relationships.

See, without their magic, even the biggest, baddest villains were left scrambling for some kind of leverage on their desolate little island. Any way to cling to power and have something over the rest of the villains. A way to collect as many so called allies as possible.

The Evil Queen had Evie. Arguably, her most valuable possession.

Ever since Evie was little, her mother had hammered it into her that her value only existed so long as a man wanted her. She was nothing more than decoration - a beautiful painting to sit in the parlor, or an expensive watch worn on a man’s arm. Her worth was her face, her hair, her body.

When she was a little older, her mother added “sex” to that list. She told Evie all sorts of stories - graphic things that disgusted Evie to her very core at the time - about how to pleasure men. How it was just another tool for her to use. Just another means to an end. 

Another way for her mother to hold onto her power.

Evie’s body for whatever she wanted. From something big like protection or more territory, to stupid little things like the new shipment of makeup that someone else managed to snatch from the barges first. Most of the time, Evie didn’t know what she was being used for until after the fact.

But it wasn’t completely lawless, when she was sent to sleep with someone. There were rules. Set by her mother, of course. Rules in place for her protection, she was told. 

No scratching, spanking, slapping, or hair pulling. Nothing that would cause even temporary damage. And certainly nothing that would bruise or scar. When EQ saw a bright red handprint on Evie’s arm after a visit with Sykes, she poisoned one of his dobermans.

Vanilla only, was another rule. Something about not spoiling her for her future prince. It was good, EQ said, to have experience in bed so Evie would know how to keep her future husband happy. But the Auradon boys were soft. Innocent. They scared too easily. She was sure Prince Philip was still traumatized from his brief time chained up in her dungeon. She didn’t want Evie learning anything that might frighten off a potential suitor. And nothing that would make them see her as a common harlot rather than the pristine princess she was, either. So she made sure her business partners stuck only to the basics.

And they all knew what would happen if they disobeyed. Evie had no qualms about telling her mother when one of them crossed a line. She’d even lied about it on occasion, which led to her mother lashing out and punishing them for something they didn’t do. It made everyone more afraid of the Evil Queen, and more likely to be careful with Evie when she came to trade.

At first, these transactions disgusted Evie. She couldn’t believe her own mother would send her out to strangers like this. But then, after thinking about it for all of ten seconds… Yes, she could totally believe it. 

The horror upon hearing of her new fate quickly turned into disgust when it was time for her first encounter. Jafar. Apparently a ring containing rubies from the dwarfs’ mine made its way onto a barge, and every petty criminal on the Isle was dying to get their grubby little hands on it. But Jay managed to nick it for his dad’s shop first, and the Evil Queen was quick to send out Evie for a trade deal.

Jafar kept her for three days before he decided they were even, and sent her home with the ring. She couldn’t look at Jay for weeks after.

That’s how it was, for a long time. Evil Queen wanted something, sent Evie out, and didn’t utter so much as a thank you when she returned. 

But as disgusted as Evie was when it started, the routine eventually caused nothing but boredom for her. And why shouldn’t it? These were mostly old men, who seemed like they’d never fucked a woman before in their lives. Or maybe they were just out of practice. But even the ones she saw often were always awkward, fumbling, and usually done within minutes. She had to do all the technical work. 

Including taking care of her own pleasure. Something she knew was the furthest thing from these men’s minds while they were screwing. If she closed her eyes and really concentrated, she could pretend she was with someone else. Someone that was at least closer to her own age, and that she found attractive. Someone that smelled a little better.

Her mind always ended up wandering to the ones she was most often warned to stay away from. Like Mal. Evie wondered if she had any hidden dragon strength to match that temper of hers. Or Jay. Evie wouldn’t mind being held captive in those arms. Then there was Harry Hook… He knew his way around a pirate ship, so he was obviously good with ropes. And oh, Uma… Evie knew tentacles ran in the family, and was always curious to know how those might fare in the bedroom.

She’d let herself get lost in one of these fantasies, and she could make herself come no matter who was inside her.

But tonight, she wouldn’t have to rely on fantasies. Tonight, she had a plan. For once in her life, she was taking control of her own pleasure.

By relinquishing that control to two people that she knew could handle it.

Evie was tired of vanilla. Tired of awkward. Tired of only fooling around for the benefit of other people. And tired of doing all the work.

She wanted to experience a real fucking for once in her life. With people who knew exactly what the fuck they were doing. And people that she actually found attractive. She wanted to be taken care of.

Hell, she wanted marks to show off after. Raw, rough, brutal, real - she craved it all. Something to show she wasn’t the precious little porcelain doll everyone else made her out to be.

Besides, she already had a reputation as a slut. Might as well get something out of that, right?

And she had the perfect people picked out to give that to her. No, not anyone from her group. She knew they wouldn’t understand where she was coming from with this request. And even if they did, they would be too hesitant to actually give Evie what she needed, for fear of really hurting her. So she had to look elsewhere.

To a certain pirate captain and her first mate. They were just as feral as they were gorgeous, and seemed the perfect duo for Evie’s release. It took some convincing. Harry demanded to know what was in it for them - Evie’s answer? Sex with her, obviously. What else could they want? Uma was more cautious. Shrewd. She wanted to make sure it wasn’t just some trick to give Mal’s gang a reason to attack her crew. But both groups had been enjoying this temporary ceasefire, and Evie reassured them that she didn’t want to do anything to ruin that, for her sake as much as anyone else’s. 

Eventually, they came to an agreement, and the night was planned out. Evie had already done her dirty prep work. She put the other skills she’d learned from her mother to good use, and brewed up a sleeping draught to slip into her wine at dinner.

Getting up from her vanity, Evie crossed her room to the door and poked her head out into the hallway.

“Mooom?” she called as loudly as she could. No response. “Mom, I’m about to go to bed without washing my makeup off first!” she cried down the hall. Still nothing. If that didn’t rouse her mother up to come lecture her about proper skin care, then she must really be out. Still, it was a large castle. Evie knew her mother probably couldn’t hear her from her room on a normal night. So she walked out into the hall, creeping tentatively closer to her mother’s chambers. 

She screamed at the top of her lungs. Then waited. And waited. And waited. Even still, nothing.

Satisfied with her work, Evie hurried back to her own bedroom and pushed her door to, leaving a small crack so it would be easier to open later. She was confident there would be no interruptions tonight. She and her “friends” could get as loud as they wanted.

She sat back down at her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her look. She wore her hair down, loosely curled but combed out, and no braids in sight. And her face was adorned with plenty of makeup. Heavy focus on the eyes, and her red lips.

On her body, she wore nothing but a thin midnight blue nightie and matching panties. She could imagine how lovely they’d looked when they were new. But now they sported several holes, and the lace was tearing away. But that was perfect for tonight. Harry had told her to wear something she wouldn’t be upset about getting torn. 

Evie felt a shiver run down her spine as she remembered that part of the conversation. Her mind raced as she thought about what that meant. There were so many options, and each one got her more excited than the last. But she was getting ahead of herself, and her guests would be here soon. She had to be ready.

She finished her makeup and rushed over to her bed, turning on the lamp on the nightstand for a little extra light, and laid down on top of the covers. Settling down on her back, making sure her hair was fanned out elegantly on the pillows behind her, and gently tugging the nightie down as though trying to protect her modesty. She folded her hands together over her stomach and closed her eyes.

Her heart hammered in her chest, anticipation already making her excited for what was to come. All she had to do now was wait. 

Fortunately, she wasn’t waiting for long.

Only a few minutes later, her ears picked up on the sound of boots scuffling across the stone floor of the hallway. Inching closer, ever so closer, until…

The door creaked, then slowly swung open. She kept her eyes shut, but could feel the presence of other people in the room. She heard the door shut again, and the lock latch into place, before the footsteps approached her bed.

“Well, well, what do we have here, Harry?” Evie heard Uma ask in a hushed tone.

“Mm, a wee princess that’s all ours for the taking,” Harry responded. Evie could just hear the desire dripping in his voice, and she knew he was as excited for this as she was. Another shiver of anticipation ran through her body, and she wondered if the other two noticed.

“Harry, give her a wakeup call. I bet she’ll be real happy to see us,” Uma said, still keeping her voice low.

“My pleasure, captain…”

Evie’s eyes flew open as Harry’s hand covered her mouth. The bed dipped beside her and before she knew it, Harry Hook was straddling her, his legs bracketing her body and keeping her in place. His other hand shot out to grab her wrists when she started squirming underneath him. 

“Hiya, princess,” Harry greeted cheerfully, baring his teeth at Evie in the way that Evie was sure was supposed to be a grin. She stared up into Harry’s icy, black rimmed eyes with a wide, frantic gaze of her own. She kicked her legs uselessly, twisting back and forth on the bed like she was trying to buck Harry off.

“Better settle down there, princess,” Uma said, coming around to the other side of the bed, her gaze fixed steadily on Evie’s face. “Might make Harry think you don’t like him… You don’t wanna hurt his feelings, do you?”

Evie tried to respond, only for her words to come out muffled against Harry’s palm.

“Sorry, lass, what was that?” Harry asked, removing his hand from Evie’s mouth.

“Help!” Evie cried out, thrashing underneath Harry to no avail. “Someone, please, help-” Harry covered her mouth again. 

“Aww, captain, I don’t think she wants to play with us,” Harry said, looking over at Uma with a pout on his face.

Uma just laughed - cold and unamused. “I don’t think she has a choice…” she replied, kneeling beside Evie and Harry, and looking down to meet the blue haired girl’s eyes. “Look at me, princess, so I know you’re hearing me…” Evie’s eyes darted between Uma and Harry before settling on Uma. “Good girl… Now, Harry is going to take his hand away again. And you’re not going to scream. Because if you scream, you’re getting the hook. And you’re going to wish it was just our hands on you. Is that clear?”

Evie nodded her head.

Uma smiled.

“Good girl,” she said again. Uma looked at Harry, nodded, and Harry drew his hand back. 

“Why are you doing this?” Evie asked, her voice small as she looked up at Uma with wet, tear filled eyes. “If - if this is because of Mal, then-”

Uma cut her off with another laugh, rolling her eyes at the mention of Mal. “It’s not always all about your precious little leader, you know?” she sneered. 

“Then - then what?” Evie asked desperately. “Gold? Jewels? Potions? Whatever you want, I can give you, I just-” She tried her best to sit up underneath Harry, but his free hand caught her shoulder and forced her back down to the mattress, pinning her there. 

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Uma asked. 

“We’re not interested in money or magic, princess…” Harry replied, leaning down closer to Evie. Evie turned her head all the way to the side to avoid being face to face with the crazed pirate. “Not when you’re the shiniest bit of treasure on this miserable rock…” He darted his tongue out and licked a stripe along Evie’s neck, causing her to squeal and try to push him off again.

Harry didn’t slip, just repositioned himself so his legs were pinning Evie’s down, and forced her arms up, pinning her hands to the bed above her head. Leaving her stretched out and exposed underneath him.

“We want you, princess,” Uma said. She reached a hand out, and Evie gasped as it came in contact with one of her breasts. Even through the thin fabric, Uma’s touch felt electric. “And we’re going to have you…” She squeezed, and Evie bit back a moan. “Any way we fucking want you.” She pinched Evie’s nipple harshly between her thumb and forefinger, and Evie couldn’t hold back her cry of pleasure this time. “And by the time we’re done with you, you aren’t going to want to be with anyone else ever again…”

“And you’ll be begging us for more, princess,” Harry grinned, rocking his hips down to grind against Evie. “Mm, you’ve already got me at half mast, and we haven’t even had any real fun yet…”

“Harry, up,” Uma ordered. “I’ve got her.”

Harry frowned, but was quick to follow his captain’s orders. He released Evie’s arms and climbed off of her, standing to the side of the bed to await further instructions.

With her newfound freedom, Evie tried to seize the opportunity to escape. She scurried down towards the foot of the bed since there were no pirates in that direction, wondering how far she could get before she was stopped.

Not far.

She didn’t even get off the bed before something was yanking her back in. Not hands, either. Something cold, and wet, slithered their way around her arms and forced them behind her back.

“Aw, where do you think you’re going, princess?” Uma cooed, coming up behind Evie on the bed. Evie craned her head back to look at Uma, only to see four tentacles protruding from around Uma’s waist. Two of which ended encircled around her wrists. “Now you can play with Harry all you want. He knows his own strength, and knows how to follow orders. But I’m still getting the hang of these babies. Sometimes it’s like they have a mind of their own. I’d hate for you to struggle too much and get yourself hurt. But you won’t let that happen, will you?”

“You two are fucking sick…” Evie whispered, glaring back at Uma. 

“You knew that already, didn’t you, lass?” Harry laughed.

Uma pushed Evie forward, and she had to quickly swing a leg out in front of herself to step onto the floor and not just faceplant off the edge of the bed. Her arms were folded together behind her back, Uma’s tentacles wrapped tightly around them. Then they were tugging downward, and Evie was forced onto her knees on the floor in front of the pirate.

“Now this is a pretty sight, to be sure…” Harry purred, reaching out towards Evie. She flinched away, but all he did was brush the backs of his fingers over her blush pink cheek. “Don’t be so jumpy, princess… You’re in good hands. We’re gonna take care of you. Promise. But I’ve just been dying to have those ruby red lips wrapped around my cock…” 

Evie couldn’t help herself. She glanced back towards Harry’s crotch when she heard him unzip. Her eyes went wide when he pulled his cock out. Even half hard, he looked bigger than any of the old men Evie had been with before. She wondered what she was in store for once he was fully erect.

“Like what you see?” Harry asked with a smirk, languidly stroking himself as he looked down at Evie.

Evie didn’t respond.

Harry stroked his fingers over Evie’s cheek again, then pressed two of his fingertips against her bottom lip. When she didn’t open up automatically, Harry forced his fingers into her mouth.

Evie decided to have a little fun of her own. She held her mouth open for a few seconds before nipping sharply at Harry’s fingers, causing him to shriek in surprise and yank them back out.

“Why you fucking brat!” he growled, drawing his hand back and bringing it down sharply across Evie’s cheek. Her head snapped to the side, before Uma grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at Harry, who now stood looming over her, hook in hand. He brought the hook up to her face, letting the tip just barely press against her pouty bottom lip. She felt Uma lean in closer, and her hand come up to grab her chin.

“We’re trying to be patient with you, princess…” Uma said, her face right beside Evie’s. “But you only get so many chances. You try to take a bite of either of us again, and the only thing you’re gonna be sucking on is that hook. Is that what you want?”

Evie shook her head as best as she could in Uma’s tight hold.

“Didn’t think so.” Uma released Evie, sitting back on the edge of the bed where she’d been. “She won’t give you any more trouble, Harry.”

Harry nodded his head, setting his hook back on the nightstand. He grabbed his cock again, stroking himself as he moved closer to Evie. Evie tried to lean back, but he grabbed her by the hair and kept her in place.

He stilled his hand on his shaft, positioning himself right in front of Evie’s lips. Again, she didn’t open, so he pressed the head of his cock firmly against her lips.

“Come on, princess, you know the deal…” he murmured. “My cock or my hook. What’ll it be?”

Evie looked up, locking eyes with Harry before slowly parting her lips for him.

“Good choice…” Harry replied with a satisfied grin. He kept his grip firm in Evie’s hair, guiding her down around his cock and moaning as she took more of him in.

Evie let Harry guide her movements, keeping her throat relaxed and breathing through her nose as Harry filled her mouth. She never had a problem with this before, but no guy she’d been with before could compete with Harry. It was more than she was used to, but she still did her best to take it all. Until there were only a couple inches left to go, and her gag reflex got the better of her.

Evie sputtered on Harry’s cock, her body convulsing as she gagged around him. She was pulled back by Uma’s tentacles, giving her a break and letting her catch her breath.

“More than you’re used to, princess?” Uma asked. “Not surprised… Harry’s pretty well endowed, huh?”

“Too big…” Evie whispered, licking her lips as she looked up at Harry.

“Aw, you’re making me blush,” Harry laughed, stroking his fingers through Evie’s hair and pulling her back in. “You just need a little practice, princess. And we plan on giving you that.”

Evie took in a deep breath, then parted her lips again. 

“See? You’re already learning…” Uma smiled. She reached past Evie to point out the red smear of lipstick on Harry’s cock. “That’s your personal best so far, princess. That’s what you need to get past to make Harry happy. Think you can do that?”

Evie nodded her head. As soon as Uma dropped her hand, Evie was back on Harry’s cock, taking him down as far as she did before, and still gagging when she reached that same spot.

“Whoa there, lass, don’t make yourself throw up now…” Harry said, taking a small step back. He held Evie’s head in place and started to fuck her mouth instead. Shallow thrusts, only a few inches in and out at a time. And sinking in a little more with every forward thrust, until they reached the same spot. Evie tensed up, expecting to gag again, but Harry slid in another half inch without a problem. She was sure she could take the whole thing now, but Harry pulled his hips back. 

Evie let out a muffled whine, shuffling forward on her knees, desperate to keep him inside. Harry and Uma both laughed.

“I think she wants more, Harry…” Uma mused. “Stay where you are. Let her do the work.” 

Evie steadied herself, taking a deep breath in through her nose before starting to bob her head on Harry’s cock again. Going at a faster pace than Harry had been, determined to do what the two pirates asked of her. As she sank down closer to the base of Harry’s cock, she felt something on the back of her head. Uma’s hand? No, Uma’s boot. Evie moaned around Harry’s length, causing him to make a similar noise in response. 

“That’s it, girlie…” Harry whispered, watching with rapt fascination as Uma pushed Evie in further. Until her lips reached the base of Harry’s shaft, and her nose pressed against his lower abdomen. Evie didn’t gag this time, keeping her composure. And feeling rather proud of herself for swallowing down her biggest cock yet.

She thought they would let her go now, but neither pirate pulled back. And when Harry did move, it was to reach up and pinch her nose shut, cutting off her one source of oxygen at the moment. Evie stared up at Harry with wide eyes, but tried her best to stay calm.

But even as Evie’s lungs started to ache for air, Harry didn’t let up. She tried her best to pull back from his cock, just to be stopped by Uma’s firm hold. She squirmed between the two of them, her face turning red as real tears streamed down her face.

Just as Evie started to see stars and feel her head swimming, she was released. She fell back against Uma, gulping in as big a breath as she could manage. A thick rope of drool fell from the corner of her mouth, dripping down to her chest.

“You didn’t think we were gonna go easy on you, did you?” Uma asked. She reached around Evie, running her hand through the mess of saliva on her body and bringing it up to smear over her face, smudging her lipstick and eye makeup even more. “Not so pretty now, are you, princess?” 

Evie didn’t respond, but cried out as Uma yanked her hair to make her look up at Harry again. Harry rested a hand atop her head, holding her steady as he jerked himself to completion. He came with a low, guttural moan, spilling out over Evie’s face. She parted her lips for him again, but barely any of his seed made it into her mouth. He seemed to be trying his best to get it over as much of her face as possible.

When Harry finished, Uma reached up to run her fingers through the mess on Evie’s cheek, then held it up to her mouth so she could lick them clean. Evie easily obliged, humming at the taste of Harry on her tongue. 

“How’s he taste, princess?” Uma asked. She pulled her tentacles back, leaving Evie on the floor.

“Salty…” Evie whispered, turning to look up at the pirate queen.

Uma laughed at that, leaning down over Evie so their faces were only inches apart. “Mind if I see for myself?” Without waiting for a response, she darted her tongue out and licked over Evie’s other cheek. Lapping up whatever she could of the mess Harry left, leaving a few kisses here and there as well. When she arrived at Evie’s lips, she kissed her hungrily and let her tongue delve deep into her mouth, sharing the taste of Harry between them before Uma pulled back.

“Harry, get her back on the bed,” Uma instructed. Harry leaned down and easily scooped Evie up in his arms, laying her back on the bed as Uma scooted back to give them room.

Evie let out a soft breath when her back hit the mattress, letting her eyes slip shut.

“You’re not trying to tap out now, are you, princess?” Uma asked, settling down next to her. “You think Harry is the only one that gets to come tonight?”

“Uma, please…” Evie rasped, blinking her eyes open to look at the pirate next to her. “You’ve made your point… You can tell everyone you conquered the princess. You can even throw it in Mal’s face if you want. Just, please, leave me be now…”

“You’re wasting your breath, lassie,” Harry chuckled, laying on Evie’s other side and essentially trapping her in the middle. “Once Uma’s set her mind on something, she won’t stop til she gets what she wants. She’s real hard headed that way.”

“Watch it,” Uma warned, fixing Harry with a pointed gaze before turning her attention back to Evie. “We aren’t monsters, you know?” She lazily ran the tip of her index finger up along Evie’s thigh, skipping over her underwear and drawing it up over her tight abdomen, pulling her nightie up with it. “We plan on playing fair here. You do something for us, we do something for you…”

Evie could feel goosebumps rising on her skin at Uma’s delicate touch, and the sound of her voice right in her ear. She did her best to push down any feelings of pleasure she had at the moment, focused on playing her role for the two pirates. She turned to Uma, narrowing her eyes in the best glare she could manage. “I don’t want anything from you,” she spat.

Uma’s expression hardened. She climbed on top of Evie, grabbing at the hem of her nightie in both hands and yanking hard, causing it to rip right up the middle. Another sharp pull and the worn fabric came apart at the top, exposing Evie’s breasts.

Evie squealed, quickly reaching up to cover herself.

“Getting shy, princess?” Uma asked, arching a brow at Evie. “That’s not like you.”

“Nah, we see the way you parade around the Isle like you own the place…” Harry whispered, leaning closer and kissing Evie’s neck. “Twirling around in those short skirts, showing off in those high heels…” He bit down rough on her earlobe, making Evie squeak. “Practically begging for some poor depraved soul to drag you into the nearest alleyway and have their way with you.”

“And then we come along, bringing the fun to you, and you wanna say no?” Uma asked. “You don’t wanna show us what you show off to everyone else? Fine. Harry, I bet your hook will pry her hands up without a problem. Just try not to scratch up her tits too much. I wanna keep them pretty.”

“No!” Evie cried, stopping Harry midreach for his hook. She dropped her hands, letting them rest by her sides and exposing herself fully for the pirates.

“Mm, no. Hands up. Hold onto the headboard,” Uma instructed. Evie obeyed, raising her hands up and gripping onto the wrought iron above her.

“There, now, that’s a good lass…” Harry whispered, laying back down beside her.

“Told you we wouldn’t need rope for this, Harry,” Uma said with a smirk towards Evie. “I knew it wouldn’t take much for you to follow orders. You want to be our good girl, don’t you?”

Evie nodded her head. 

“Let me hear you say it.”

“I - I want to be your good girl…” she whispered.

“Does that mean you’re gonna stop fighting us?” Uma asked. Evie nodded again.

Satisfied with her answer, Uma leaned down over Evie’s body, rewarding her with kisses - over her neck, her collarbones, her chest, her breasts. She kissed, nipped, and sucked at every inch of Evie’s skin she could easily reach in this potion, leaving several marks in her wake.

Claiming Evie for her own.

When Uma’s focus shifted to Evie’s nipples, the princess let out a sigh of relief. The drafty castle air had them at full attention, and Evie had been silently begging Uma to give them some love this whole time.

Uma flicked the tip of her tongue over one, and Evie gasped sharply. She repeated the action, reaching her hand up to Evie’s other breast to give it similar attention. Evie writhed beneath her, letting out soft little cries and mewls of pleasure with every action Uma administered. She’d almost completely forgotten about Harry, who was practically drooling as he watched the girls play.

All too quickly, Uma pulled away, and Evie couldn’t help the little whine of disappointment that escaped from her mouth.

“Harry,” was all Uma had to say before her first mate dove in, eagerly fondling and licking Evie’s breasts like he’d been dying to do. He was much more erratic than Uma, not as precise, but it still drove Evie crazy all the same. He suckled hard on one nipple, pinching the other firmly between his fingers. When he finally let up, he immediately sank his teeth in the soft flesh of her breast, starting to suck a mark of his own onto her. 

Evie didn’t even register the fact that he’d stopped groping her other breast, until she realized she could feel his hand creeping down lower and lower on her abdomen. 

Uma noticed as well. A tentacle circled around Harry’s wrist and jerked his hand away. He pulled back from Evie with a groan. “C’mon, captain, please…” he begged, looking at Uma with pleading eyes. “I’m dying to get inside her treasure chest.”

“Settle down, Harry…” Uma warned. “You try to get ahead of me again, and you’ll be pulling up a chair to watch the rest of the show from the sidelines. Got it?”

Harry clenched his jaw, nodded his head.

“Good…” Uma went back to work,  kissing her way down Evie’s body, stopping once she reached her panties. She hooked her fingers in the waistband, sliding them down Evie’s legs. “Fuck, Harry, these are soaked…” she chuckled, handing the tiny garment off to him. “Here. Your souvenir for the night.”

Harry happily took the prize from Uma, raising them up to his nose to smell them before starting to stroke his cock with Evie’s underwear in his hand.

Evie stared in awe at the pirate, wondering if it was all for show or if he was really into her like that. She didn’t have too much time to think though, as she felt Uma’s hands on her legs to spread them open. But, wanting to play their game a little longer, she did her best to keep them closed.

“Aww, baby, I thought we were past this…” Uma said. Faux sweetness dripping from her voice as she spoke. “Your body already gave you away… You’re soaking wet. You’re not just following orders anymore. You want this as bad as we do.”

Uma’s tentacles danced excitedly around her before two of them started circling around Evie’s legs. Slowly working their way up, ensnaring her in their clutches and tightening around her.

Evie cried out when her legs were forced apart. She struggled against them, but the tentacles held tight, preventing her from moving even an inch. She was completely exposed to Uma.

“You just love wriggling like a worm on a hook, don’t you?” Uma asked in an amused tone. “But, like I said…” She brought her hand up to Evie, running her finger through her wetness. She then held her finger out to Harry, letting him suck it clean. “You can’t lie to us, princess. You can’t pretend like you aren’t enjoying this. If you really hated what we were doing, you wouldn’t be this wet, would you?”

“Uma…” Evie couldn’t manage much more than that.

Uma decided to be nice, to stop teasing. 

She plunged her tongue as deep into Evie as she could manage, wanting to taste her. Fucking her on her tongue, listening as Evie cried out with every move she made. She licked over Evie’s folds, working her way up to her clit. Taking a moment to catch her breath before darting her tongue out and flicking over it, causing Evie to arch halfway up off the bed. Uma reached up to pin her hips down, holding her firmly in place as she ate her out. 

“Uma, I - I’m gonna - !” Evie couldn’t even finish her sentence before her orgasm hit. She’d been soaking wet and on edge this whole time, since before Harry and Uma even set foot in her room. Of course she wasn’t going to last long with Uma working her over so expertly. 

Uma eagerly lapped up Evie’s juices as they came flooding out, pulling back when Evie relaxed and going in for another kiss. Letting Evie taste herself on her tongue.

Evie kissed back lazily, a small smile on her face when Uma pulled back.

“Thank you, captain…” she whispered. 

“Mm, captain, huh? That’s nice to hear from you…” Uma smirked. “You’re welcome, princess. I told you we weren’t totally selfish. Every princess deserves to be pampered, doesn’t she?”

Evie nodded her head.

“Good. Because now it’s Harry’s turn to pamper you,” Uma informed her. She shifted to lay by Evie’s left side, while Harry moved down in between her legs.

“What - another? Already?” Evie asked, genuinely surprised by that. 

“Not what you’re used to, huh?” Uma asked. 

Evie shook her head. 

“She told you we were gonna ruin you for anyone else,” Harry said, winking at Evie. He gripped her thighs, his nails biting into the soft flesh as he spread her legs open. He started lapping at her wet cunt, his face buried in the nest of soft blue curls that circled her. Just like with her breasts, Harry’s technique was wild and erratic. And just like before, Evie didn’t care. She still felt on edge despite the fact that she already came moments before. Everything Harry did felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

She was about to beg for more - Harry’s cock, his tongue, Uma’s fingers, just something inside her to make her feel whole. But before she could even form the words, she felt something circling her entrance. Something that didn’t feel like any of the above.

She looked over at Uma, following one of her tentacles to where it disappeared between her legs. She tried to look past Harry, watching as the tentacle seemed to give her a little wave before delving deep into her pussy.

“Fuck!” she screamed, her head falling back against the pillows. She bucked her hips wildly, doing her best to fuck herself on the strange new appendage. She could feel that thing writhing inside of her, moving around and curling in on itself, stretching her out in ways she never could’ve imagined before. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped onto the headboard for dear life.

Harry pulled back just to watch the show, and another tentacle came up to replace his mouth. The more pointed tip traced over her folds, then flicked over her clit, before one of the little suckers attached itself to the sensitive nub and sent a whole new shockwave of pleasure coursing throughout Evie’s body.

“Oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods!” Evie shrieked, clenching tight around Uma’s tentacle as her second orgasm hit. 

Uma worked her through it, fucking her pussy and teasing her clit until Evie started to come down. She pulled her tentacles back, and a whole new flood of juices came rushing out of Evie. Harry leaned in to lick up what he could, still desperate for a taste of her.

Evie reached down between her legs, placing a hand on his head and weakly pushing him back. Harry took the hint, licking his lips and leaning over to kiss Uma, sharing Evie’s taste between them.

“Delicious, isn’t she, captain?” Harry asked with a grin. “The most delectable forbidden fruit…”

“Our sweet little poisoned apple,” Uma smirked. She looked back down at Evie, who was laying completely still, limp, and watching them with heavy lidded eyes. “Harry, I think our princess needs a real break. What do you think?”

“Aye, I think so, captain…” he replied, nodding his head.

Both pirates were still fully clothed, but that quickly changed. Uma pulled Harry in close, kissing him hungrily and starting to strip him out of his clothes. Harry did the same for Uma, the two of them easily shedding their various layers until they were left as naked as Evie. 

Evie watched as Harry laid back on the bed and Uma climbed on top of him. She thought Uma was going to ride his cock, but she ended up straddling his face instead. Evie couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pair. Uma looked sexier than Evie had ever seen her, the soft golden lamplight dancing off her body as she rolled her hips down and fucked herself on Harry’s tongue in the way that felt best for her. 

Harry held onto Uma’s thighs like they were his lifeline, letting her use him for her pleasure. Evie looked down, seeing his cock fully erect again and bobbing against his stomach as he moved under Uma. She sat up slowly, crawling down the bed to take Harry’s cock in her hand. Harry moaned into Uma as Evie started to stroke him, and again when she took him in his mouth. 

Uma got herself off twice before dismounting, pulling Evie off of Harry as well. “Glad to see you’re finally embracing your role, princess,” she murmured, laying back against the pillows and pulling Evie on top of her. “But I promised Harry he’d get to come inside that royal cunt before the night was over. You don’t want me to break my promise, do you?”

Evie rapidly shook her head, licking her lips as she looked down at Uma. “But I haven’t gotten to taste you yet, captain…” she whispered.

“You’re a smart lass,” Harry said from behind her. “You can figure it out.” She felt his strong hands gripping her waist, and before she knew it she was being yanked back on the bed and closer to Harry. Putting her face to face with Uma’s soaked pussy. 

Evie didn’t need to be told before diving in, exploring Uma’s grotto with her tongue. Uma’s hand tangled in her hair to hold her in place, letting her know she was doing a good job. She felt Harry move behind her, felt the dull head of his cock tracing over her slick cunt. She had no trouble taking him inside. She was so wet, even his impressive length slid in with ease. 

He fucked her wildly from behind, alternating between scratching down her back and spanking her ass. Both actions caused Evie to clench tight around him, and made her little pussy feel that much more delectable to Harry.

Uma added her own sensation to the mix, letting a tentacle come down to play with Evie’s clit again. It all worked together to drive Evie crazy. She came twice more from their actions, and managed to make Uma come one more time. She felt exhausted, and was sure she wouldn’t even be able to keep her ass in the air if it weren’t for Harry’s firm grip on her hips.

Harry’s own orgasm hit him a few moments later, and he grunted as he emptied himself deep inside of Evie. She whimpered at the sensation of his cock twitching inside her, and when he pulled out, she could feel his cum slowly trickling out and down her leg. 

Harry and Uma pretty much had to manhandle Evie’s pliant body, to help her lay down comfortably on the bed. She didn’t protest - she barely even registered it was happening. Uma laid down beside her, while Harry retrieved a rag from his pants pocket to wipe off Evie’s face, then between her legs. Evie whined as the rough cloth rubbed over her sensitive skin, closing her legs tight when Harry finished and turning to curl up against Uma.

“Stay the night?” she asked quietly, looking up at Uma with pleading eyes.

“Think the crew can survive a night without us?” Harry asked, laying back down on the bed and spooning Evie from behind. 

“Probably not,” Uma replied. “But I can’t say no to our princess.” She reached over to turn out the light, pulling the covers up over the three of them and hugging Evie close. “How do you feel, princess?”

Evie smiled at the question, not used to hearing it after something like this.

“Completely satisfied.”

#descendants #disney descendants #descendants fic #evie grimhilde #evie descendants #harry hook #uma triskelion #uma descendants #uma #evie x uma #evie x harry #evie x harry x uma #harry x uma #my stuff #my fics #minors dni #my first experiment with smut #hopefully will be posting more in the future

[descendantofthesparrow]

Cant stop this feeling - Harry Hook x reader- SMUT FIC p1(?)

SMUT FIC-MINORS DNI- All ‘important’ characters are 18+!

warning; slightly dubcon due to drugged sex, only Harry is drugged (he fully aware about what's going on and is consensual (both parties are), but its still drugged sex) basically sex pollen smut but its sex potion, SMUT, unprotected sex (don worry (y/n) is on birth control), rough sex, first times, hella swearing and dirty talk. note, i think this is my best work yet lol

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Chubby!reader-no fem pronouns used but using female anatomy cuz this is fully self-indulgent, im still very much getting used to writing smut so i’ll be sticking with fem biology for a bit longer until i’m fully comfortable writing that, then I’ll start experimenting.

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Thiiiis was not how you were expecting your night to go. It was just supposed to be a normal senior trip for Auradon prep, it really was. With all the vks and aks hanging out on the royal cruise ship. But now here you were, standing right in front of your cabin door, holding it open with one hand as Harry fucking Hook stood on the other side, his face flushed entirely red and he was…god he was panting. “shit-can-can I come in?” Harry said breathlessly, god he sounded so-“yes-yes” you stuttered out, forcefully interrupting your train of thought. You stepped to the side, letting Harry into your cabin which was luckily only inhabited by you.

God his eyes, they were usually the brightest blue but now they resembled storm clouds, dark with…fuck-was he?- “Are you okay?” you asked Harry, once again interrupting your train of thought; not daring to touch him as he leaned against the support beam that sat in the corner of your cabin, his legs shaking and-oh god did he have a fucking- “No” Harry whined pitifully and god the way he sounded just sent shivers down your spine. “some-something's wrong n’ -fuck- everything hurts”

“Hurts?” you asked quietly, if he was hurt, why would he come to you? One of the regular kids of Auradon prep? Why not go to Uma? Or hell to the medical team on the ship? “Oh shit what-what hurts?” Harry looked up at you, his cheeks a nice dark red and he glanced down at his pelvis, glancing away when you followed his gaze. “i-wha?” you flushed bright red; he was hard, and it looked to be painfully so, the fabric of his sleep pants twitching every once in a while. ”what’s happening to you?”

“I dunno” Harry rasped, his entire body shuddering with arousal, heat pulsing through his body so intensely it hurt. “i-I woke up like an’ hour ago in me room, just-well-“ he shrugged, gesturing his hand in a way that made it clear what he meant, hard. He continued to attempt to explain his last hour awake “and well-I tried ta’ rub one off but-fuck nothing worked, it just got worse and hurt more an’ then-then” his face turned bright red, glancing away from you, his nostrils flaring “I-fuck I smelled somethin’ that just-shit made me even harder n’ when I went ta look for tha’ thing it-it” Harry swallowed, harshly, his eyes consumed with lust “it led me ta you”

You?....YOU?! why would a -obviously some sort of -lust spell or something-lead Harry right to you, and why would your scent make him even harder?! What the hell?! It was no secret to anyone who knew you that you had a major crush on the son of hook…maybe much more than a crush. You were snapped out of your thoughts again when Harry practically crumbled to the floor, breathing heavily in short bursts and drool starting to leak down his cheek, his eyes glassy and cheeks burning even brighter.

“loo’k ah dunnae kinn how or why this-whatever thi’s is-led me ta yeh by yer fucking scent or some shit” Harry shuddered again, the cabin somehow was fucking filled with your scent, the shampoo you used, the body wash, the candles set by your bed, the detergent you used for your clothes, your perfume/cologne, everything just set something off in him. something that wanted to ravish you until you couldn’t speak, trapped underneath his body helpless and needy for him; just like he felt for you.

God, he didn’t even know your fucking name. “I wouldn’t fucking dare ta’ ask this of yeh darlin’ if there was any other choice” Harry rasped out, the name he had bestowed upon you made you shiver, making you almost give into the temptation and jump him “but yer the only one that caught this-things-attention, I don’t think this’ll go away normalllly” his word extended as pain thrummed through his body, starting at his pelvis and sparking up his back, god it hurt so fucking bad.

Harry panted as the intense body cramp passed, looking up at you with glassy eyes “Darlin’ please-help meh, I hate ta take-take advantage of yeh fer somethin’ like this but- I won't even bother-hahh” he let out a breathy moan, a drop of drool hitting his knee as he crumbled further into the floor from both pain and intense arousal. “fuck-I won't bother yeh ever again, fuck I’ll get ye something nice ta make up fer this-but-“ he shuddered again, tears of pain at the edge of his eyes “help me, please.”

You stared at him for a long moment, fuck-he thought he was taking advantage of you? Because of the-whatever it was-leading him to you? Fuck more like you were taking advantage of it, being very sexually attracted to the damn handsome pirate. Harry looked right into your eyes, his glassy dark blue eyes practically begging you to help him come. You took a long, deep sigh. You took a single step, then another, then another, until you were standing over Harry's crumpled body; he stared up at you, breath becoming rapid and uneven. God, you smelled so fucking good he wanted to just have you, keep you, devour you.

Fuck.

You kneeled in front of him, tilting your head just so “Just so you know, my name is (y/n)” you whispered, and Harry surged forward, his impossibly soft and plush lips capturing yours “(y/n)” he purred into your mouth as he pulled away for just a moment “God that's feckin' hot.” Fuck-he thought your name was hot-was this a dream? It had to be. But damn it felt so real, his lips felt so real as they pressed a searing kiss to your lips, all the pain and arousal he had been feeling pushed into it, his nimble hand curled around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head.

“Fuck yer so soft, so sweet, god ye smell so good” Harry continued to mutter into your mouth as he pulled away from each breath-stealing kiss, his hands wandering all over your body which was only covered by a t-shirt and sleep pants. You took a shuddering breath when Harry pulled away again, giving you a small chance to regain your senses as Harry’s lips traveled down to your jaw and neck, his teeth scraping against the suddenly sensitive skin.

“Harry” you breathed out, gasping as he suddenly shoved you to the floor, his eyes almost consumed by his dilated pupils, a dangerous smirk on his lips, his slightly sharp teeth peeking out behind his darkened lips "I’m giv’n' you an out righ’ now (y/n)” Harry rasped, leaning down so close to you, you could smell him “one word, all yeh need, and I’ll leave righ’ now.” God his eyes were so pretty, you could look into them forever, get lost in that stormy ocean blue.

Wait what did he say? You weren’t listening. You looked up at him, just blinking. Harry pressed his forehead into yours, his breath ghosting across your lips “last chance before anythin’ happens, and I cannot guarantee I can stop after we start” he almost sounded afraid, he didn’t want to hurt you or do something that you didn’t like. He wasn’t at all experienced in the world of sex but-dammit he knew consent was key and he wanted to give you that.

You just kissed him, and that was all he needed, his hips pressed into yours, and you let out a shocked moan into his lips; feeling his hardened dick throb with each pulse of his heart. God he felt big, thank god you preferred using thicker toys instead of the smaller/normal stuff. You lifted your hips, helping Harry get some relief from the pain as you carefully rubbed your pulsing core against him. Harry let out a shuddering sigh, pulling away from the kiss to look down between your body; his hips already starting to meet yours in a sexual dance “fuck-“ Harry groaned, almost flopping completely on you and wrapping his arms around you, grinding against you. “fuck fuck fuck, dammit you already feel so fucking good, thank you-thank you” he kissed your neck, scraping his teeth against your skin as he dry humped you.

You let out a muttered response to his thanks, rutting back into Harry’s hips before it wasn’t enough for him anymore. He sat up abruptly, grabbing your body with all too much ease (boi lives and works on a pirate ship BOI IS JACKED)and standing on wobbly legs, walking over to your bed and setting you down not all that gently. You bounced as you landed, almost squeaking as Harry’s rough and nimble hands explored your body once again, pulling off your sleep clothes in fumbling and desperate motions. You sat up to help him slide off your shirt, Harry’s eyes catching on the soft curves of your shoulders and waist, he studied the way your stomach smoothed out into your hips and thighs, your skin so soft under his touch.

He leaned down, trailing his lips against your hips and stomach, his tongue licking up your waist until it reached your breast, his mouth latching into your hardened nipple as you shivered from the intensity of it. He whispered your name against your skin, like a prayer to the gods, and you took a deep sudden breath; god you had imagined your name on his lips like that for so long.

This had to be a fucking dream. It had to be, something like this would never happen to you. You decided to just enjoy it, it wouldn’t be the first time you had dreamed up something like this involving Harry. Soon your pants followed your shirt, landing on the floor behind Harry. Harry stood, staring down at you with dark eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly; you almost matched him with how hard you were breathing. Harry suddenly pulled your underwear off, your soaked core exposed to the cold air of the cabin. “fu-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as Harry's hot and wet mouth met your core, his tongue diving into you as his thumb rubbed your clit “Harry!” you cried out, your hand reaching down to grab his soft and curly hair, bucking your hips against his mouth.

God, this felt 1000x times better than any clit toy you had ever used, this was such a good fucking dream. Harry’s tongue left you and you whined, back arching as his fingers were shoved into you, all three dripping with his spit; his mouth replacing his thumb on your clit. You were so aroused there was little to no resistance for his fingers, his long and thin fingers doing wonders in unraveling you. “Harry-Harry” you repeated his name as if you were a broken record, the heat in your face reaching down to your entire body, sighing as Harry pulled his fingers out.

You watched as Harry pulled off his sleep shirt and then pulled off his pants, his boxers going with his clothes, landing right next to yours. And-oh god he was so pretty, it was easy to see he had worked on a pirate ship for years now, he was toned, every bit of him defined and carved by the gods. He stroked his cock and oh my god it was-oh fuck you were going to be sore in the morning. It had to be 7 inches, and god-two inches thick. You swallowed, letting Harry maneuver your body and legs as he lined himself up; rubbing the purple-tipped head of his dick against the folds of your vagina.

He looked into your eyes, and smirked, pushing in with one swift motion, his eyes snapping shut as he felt your hot soft walls envelop him. In an instant, his body cooled down, allowing a moment of relief before it came back twice as hot and painful. He let out a pained/lustful moan and started to fuck you, it was simple at first, a simple pace; the sound of your wet cunt suctioning around Harry’s cock echoing through the cabin.

Your breath was suddenly gone as Harry pressed down into you, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist as his hands pinned your wrists to the bed “fuck fuck fuck” Harry growled, gods he sounded like an animal in heat; his hips hammered into yours, the sound of your cunt being abused getting even louder. You couldn’t even moan, your breath trapped in your chest as Harry fucked you-no, he didn’t fuck you, he used you; right now you were just a cock sleeve for him, something for him to get off with.

A means of relief.

And goddammit if that wasn’t a wet dream of yours.

“Ah-ah-ah!” you panted out, drool leaking down the side of your mouth as Harry fucked you hard, his hips slapping against your thighs and ass, the sound only turning you on even more; and it seemed to be the same for Harry. He bit your shoulder, moaning so loudly you would be afraid someone would hear the two of you if you weren’t so sure this was a dream or so lost in the pleasure.

Your first orgasm came fast and hard, the feeling of Harry’s cock slamming against your g-spot was just too much, heat and fireworks exploding within your body as the coil building in your gut snapped, you clenched hard around Harry, soaking him even further in your cum.

Harry let out a stuttered groan, coming to a full stop as he came, right inside you; filling you up in a way that shouldn't've been anatomically impossible. You gently pulled your hand free from Harry’s grip to feel around below, a sound of confusion making itself known as you felt his cum leaking out from you. God that was some porn shit.

Harry stared down at you, still panting, still in pain. He grunted as another cramp rushed through his body and he pulled out of you when it passed, flipping you over and pulling your hips up; ignoring your sputtering words and sliding back into you, choking on his breath as you clenched down on him; still coming down from your previous high. He practically overtook you with his body, his arms wrapped around your waist and hips as he fucked you like an animal in heat, his hips hammering into you like there was no tomorrow.

You could feel your combined cum dripping down from your core and landing on your intertwined heels, each thrust from Harry pushed out more and more cum, until every bit of your thighs and ankles were soaked with it. You couldn’t even breathe, each thrust taking it out of you as Harry used you again. God-how long would it take for him to lose stamina? How many times would he have to cum to regain his senses?

Fuck this was the best dream ever, 10/10 brain.

Harry moved his hips in the slightest way, sitting up on his knees, and then you were seeing stars. Each thrust knocked you out of consciousness for a split second, ecstasy flooding through your body as your front half went completely limp, panting moans pushing from your chest with each slap of Harry’s hips against your ass.

Soon enough your 2nd orgasm came crashing through you, not as intense as the first but you still came hard, clenching around Harry in such a way that he came again as well, this time he fucked you through it, even more of his cum filling you up. Again it-should’ve been impossible with how much there was; but-dream logic you supposed.

You gently pushed Harry away, your hand on his chest; forcing him to pull out. His eyes were still dark, still completely bound by whatever it was in his body “i-I need a moment” you panted, turning to lay on your side, Harry's cum leaking out and down your thigh; pooling on your once clean sheets. Harry shook his head, some of the light returning to his eyes, and he nodded. Kneeling on the bed next to you and taking your chin, tilting your head up to look you in the eyes “Are you okay?” he asked, voice strained as if he was struggling to control himself, and you nodded.

“yeah, just-came twice in less than five minutes, need a moment to rest down there” you muttered, gasping as Harry moved you to rest against your pillows, head sitting right in front of his still hard cock, the tip no longer purple but an angry red. Damn how many times was he going to have to cum to flush his system?!? But you knew this was a way to help him while taking a small break, you opened your mouth, letting your tongue drop out with it.

Harry slid his cock into your mouth, his head tipping back at the feeling of you, he slowly started to thrust into your mouth, being much less rough with it than your cunt. You sucked around him, resting your hands on his hard thighs, bobbing your head in time with his thrusts. “god, fuck yer mouth is just as good as yer fuckin’ cunt” Harry groaned, finally able to speak through the cloud of arousal. “so fucking wet n hot” he grabbed your head, not pushing you into his hips but simply holding you.

God you could taste yourself on him, and his cum dripped off at the base of his shaft, and you could feel your cunt pulse with want. G’damn, what a wonderful dream, and thank god it was, the soreness you would feel in the morning if it wasn’t. You felt his cock hit the back of your throat and you gagged slightly, tears at the edge of your eyes, he pulled back slightly, staring down at you in slight worry before the-whatever it was-took effect again and he thrust into your mouth, still not rough, but just using your mouth as his new cock-sleeve.

You sucked hard once and Harry groaned, leaning over your body to brace himself on the wall behind your bed, his cum flooding into your mouth, you didn’t even have time to swallow it, it spilled out the sides of your mouth and dripped down your chin. Harry, realizing you were going to choke on his cum, pulled out. You gasped as more cum hit your face and Harry closed his eyes, clenching his jaw so hard it hurt.

You noted it wasn’t as much cum as inside your cunt, maybe that meant he was flushing whatever it was out of his system. As you examined your chest, which was now covered in Harry’s cum; Harry started down at you, panting still. Fuck you looked so hot covered in him, it was all over your face and chest, still leaking out of your cunt and covering your thighs.

Harry rolled his neck, feeling another wave of heat overcoming his body, much less intense this time, but still hotter than anything he had ever felt. He had to get this shit out, and luckily, he had control of himself this time. He gently lifted your legs to where he could slide below them, your thighs resting on top of his; his cock resting in front of your cunt, which was all too ready to accept him again.

He looked into your eyes, leaning forward and kissing you, tasting himself on your lips and tongue. He slid in, groaning at the feeling of your tight cunt, god you were still so fucking soft and warm, still so tight around him after 2 rounds of hard fucking.

You moaned softly as Harry rocked into you, he was finally in control of his own body again, no longer clouded by an unending wave of pain and arousal that he was practically forced to fuck you so hard you couldn’t breathe. It was still a solid pace that sent shivers up your spine with each thrust but now you could actually breathe and respond to Harry’s motions. “ah~ Harry~” you moaned, your head hitting the bed frame as Harry gripped your hips, staring down at the space where the two of you connected.

He whispered out your name, once again as if it was a prayer to the gods; and you melted, sinking further into Harry and allowing him to go even deeper.

This continued on for another three rounds, each gentler than the last until both you and Harry were laying on your sides, his cock gently rocking into you, the tip brushing against your g-spot as his fingers played with your clit, his mouth was on your ears and neck, leaving dark and bruising marks that had accumulated throughout the night. You both came for the last time, a slow blooming pleasure that burned into a searing flame that turned to smoke.

Harry came inside you one last time, it finally being a normal human amount of cum. He gently pulled out, his cock finally soft; he was exhausted, panting and aching everywhere. But he knew he would not be able to compare to how you would feel in the morning. He had never had sex before but some of the crew and Uma had-and god the way they sometimes complained about how they couldn’t walk the next day or even just an hour afterward.

So he forced himself to stand up, walking to your connected bathroom on wobbly legs and grabbing a few soft towels and then finding a change of sheets. He got you cleaned up with warm damp towels, then used a cold one to cool down your body, resting a fresh cool one on your soon-to-be aching vagina. He cleaned up his several messes, got dressed, replaced the sheets, and rinsed out the sheets so the cleaning crew wasn’t traumatized the next day.

He gently took your body from the plush couch that sat in front of the tv and set you back on your bed, licking his lips nervously as he glanced between you and the door. He couldn’t just leave you, not after what you did for him. but he didn’t want to just-sleep next to you? Well he did, but…fuck. He settled for the pullout bed that was hidden in the couch, rubbing his face as he came to terms with what he had done for…god the last two hours?

He looked at the clock, sucking on his teeth. Nearly two hours of the night were spent fucking you. He fell back on the pull-out bed, staring up at the ceiling before falling asleep; a small smile on his lips as he recalled what you tasted like.

-

You woke up hours later, the sun already high in the sky, so very fucking sore and aching everywhere. It hurt to breathe. You sat up sluggishly, wincing at the pulse between your legs. You lifted the blanket to check what was wrong, only to see…you were in a new pair of sleep shorts and a plain t-shirt…these weren’t the clothes you put on before you fell asleep, and these sheets were…clean, like brand new just changed clean.

Oh-oh shit- you whipped your head around, looking for any sign of the handsome pirate. Only to find none, minus the pile of damp towels resting in the sink. “no way last night was real” you muttered, wincing again, your voice was just gone. Nothing but a raspy tone of a well fucked throat. Oh shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit!

You whipped around again as someone knocked on your door, in the exact same pattern as last night. You stood up quickly, yelping as your legs immediately gave out and you hit the floor, almost crying from the pain shooting up your legs and hips “(y/n)!” Harry called out, sounding very worried “Are ye okay?! That sounded like a nasty fall!” you just grumbled; face completely flushed from embarrassment. From both falling and the realization that what happened last night wasn’t a dream. You crawled over to the door and unlatched it, scooting back on your butt as Harry stepped through, a plate full of food in one hand and a small bottle in the other. “Oh shit, (y/n)” Harry said in a rush, setting down the two, no three-a water bottle that he had held in his armpit-, items on the nightstand and picking you up, carrying you back over to the bed and setting you down “fuck-I’m so sorry (y/n), I-i-“ Harry stuttered, and you could see panicked tears at the corners of his eyes. He hurt you, fuck he had hurt you-he didn’t want that-he had no control over how hard he was but god dammit!

“Hey” your raspy voice broke through his whirlwind of thoughts, and he looked back up at you, his lips dropping open at your soft smile and kind eyes “it was great, I liked it, and you didn’t have control; also that was five rounds, im bound to be sore after that even if you weren’t rough.” your voice got quieter with each word and Harry quickly grabbed the water bottle and the small bottle he had gotten from Uma. He handed both to you and you gulped down the water, the icy coolness feeling wonderful on your torn throat.

You looked down at the pills as you recapped the bottle, tilting your head at them, you had never seen them before, and they were unlabeled. “Got those from Uma” Harry said, grabbing the bottle again and opening it for you, dropping one into his hand and holding it out to you. “tis’ like a healing potion but-a pill, Uma made it for ‘er own” Harry made a vague gesture between the two of you then out the door “adventures” you smiled, that was so sweet of Harry to get you something to make sure you would be comfortable. You took the pill with a swig of water, and you sighed in relief; the pill immediately took effect.

All the aches washed away, and the soreness in your hips and core disappearing, it all felt like a nice refreshing dip in the pool on a hot day “Better?” Harry asked, his hand on your knee, and you nodded; patting his hand.

“Much,” you said, voice restored. Harry grinned, his eyes that wonderful bright ocean blue once more. He patted your knee, your hand bouncing with his hand at the gesture and he stood, walking over to the damp rags in the bathroom sink and stuffing them into a cloth bag, setting them by the door then turning back to you “so-yer…ye liked that?” Harry asked, as If you liking how he fucked you was a surprise. And you nodded, shrugging as you did.

“yeah, um-kinda was a fantasy of mine to be used like that so, now I know I’m very into it” you chuckled, drinking some more of the water as Harry turned bright red “where’d you learn how to it by the way? You’re a damn good fuck” Harry pursed his lips and shrugged.

“Never learned anything’, tha’ was me first time” you spit out the water, Harry leaping back in surprise, his eyes almost as wide as yours “you-me-what?!” you yelled, Harry’s hands suddenly covering your mouth to shut you up. “shhhh” Harry shushed you, pulling his hands away when your voice died out behind them “no, no-I've never-I, that…I was a virgin till last night” Harry muttered, almost embarrassed as he glanced away, then back at you “is-is tha’ a bad thing?”

You shook your head, no, being a virgin wasn’t a bad thing, nor was it to have lots of sex. You just thought-with how he looked-how he acted-how all the boy attracted isle kids talked about him “i-I just-assumed, I mean, with how some of the isle kids talk about you-I thought you were like-…I assumed you were one to get around, not that that's bad either, just…” you shrugged, unable to find any other way to say it.

Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his head “Aye…uh, yeah. Never had it, wasn’t exactly-interested honestly, well-I have been interested before but I never partook cause it could’ve been used ‘gainst me n’ stuff so…never did it.” Harry started at you, licking his lips nervously “it-it wasn’t how I imagined losing me virginity, I always kinda wanted ta’ give it ta’ someone I love n trust but…yeah, tha’ happen’d” Harry shrugged, glancing off to the side and suddenly you felt horrible, but…it wasn’t your fault, was it? You didn’t make Harry inconsolably horny and need relief from you, you just happened to be who he was attracted to under that…whatever it was. But you felt pissed for him, whoever had-done that to him-took away his choice, and gods if you ever got your hands on them.

“you did a damn good job for a first time” you said, hoping to give him a bit of comfort, and it worked; he smiled, that pretty smile that had your knees buckling. “like-hot damn, you must have some damn good instincts for sex” Harry shrugged and laughed, not really knowing what had been going on to make him like that, he was aware of every part of it, but after you gave him your consent, it was like he was put on the back burner, something much more…animalistic taking the front seat.

Harry stood; arms crossed. “so uh” he started, suddenly feeling very awkward “um…thank yeh, fer helpin’ me through that” you smiled and nodded, about to speak but Harry continued “whenever ye want me ta get ye somethin’ nice or-whatever, jus uh, hit me up…n…yeah-thank yeh” Harry smiled at you one last time, and then left the room. leaving you alone with the magic healing pills, a plate of food, and an empty water bottle.

You guessed that was it then, a dream come true that ended all too abruptly the next day. You sighed, rubbing your face. You hadn’t expected anything after, honestly, and he did promise to never bug you again. But…god you did kinda hope for something more to come out of this, even if it was just an awkward friendship.

But you guessed you and Harry Hook wouldn’t interact again, not until you asked for the nice thing he promised. That was fine, you told yourself, he was his own person, and just because he asked you to let him use you, he was in no way obligated to become close to you.

Looks like it was time to go back to the toys. It was a damn shame, Harry put even those toys to shame. You brushed away the thought, it was over and done now, Harry wouldn’t be knocking at your door ever again to ask you to have sex with him. Not unless whatever it was came back around and attracted him to you again.

Pffft, ch-eah right. Like that would ever happen.

-later that night-

God dammit again?!

-end of part 1(?)-

i dont have a taglist for smut fics (i do have a harry permtaglist) but i have no clue who and who isnt comfortable being tagged for smut-soooo

@sephiralorange​ 

#harry hook x reader #harry hook descendants #Harry Hook smut #not tagging main fandom since its smut #rough smut #hard smut #MINORS DNI #PLEASE #CHRIST ITS FOR UR OWN GOOD #do you know how much better off i would've been if i didnt read smut at 13 years old? #probably not much better at least a little bit #this was real fun to write tho #i had WAY too much fun with it #if you couldnt tell

[humaforever]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Descendants (Disney Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Hook/Uma Characters: Harry Hook, Uma (Disney) Additional Tags: Fluff, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Implied Sexual Content, No Smut, Implied/Referenced Sex Summary:

Harry and Uma have discovered a new part of their relationship

#This might be considered like mild smut #but also not really #idk #huma #Harry Hook #Uma #fanfiction

[arewordsenough]

Rated Explicit - 1.9k One Shot - M/M - Explicit Sexual Content

Summary: Kidnapped by the the Sea Three, Ben is left to the whims of Hook’s son Harry. When asked to watch the prince by Uma and told she doesn’t care what Harry does with him as long as he’s left alive, Harry decides a strip search is in order.

Based on a prompt from one of my readers.

Featured pairing: Ben/Harry Hook

Key Tags: Clothed Male Naked Male

#descendants fanfiction #gay smut #ben descendants #harry hook #my writing

[1800titz]

HI FRIENDS. WOOOOOOOOOOO. Camprry. Aimed for 5K or less and managed to get wordy again. Reader insert and basically pure smut. This one was supposed to be vanilla with some praise kink (and exhibitionism if you SQUINT since it’s in a tent) but….. hahahahaha….. WEEEELLLLLLL.

CONTENT WARNINGS: oral sex, face fucking, exhibitionism-ish if you squint, choking-ish if you squint, light dom/sub, praise kink, daddy kink, intercourse

WC: 7.5K (whoops)

There is nothing remotely sexy about a camping trip. 

In fact, Y/N thinks that if she were to deduce a list of words upon first thought when it came to camping, sexy would be the furthest one from qualifying. 

There’s nothing sexy about reverting to caveman-ism, sleeping on the ground, sheathed by some paper-thin layer of nylon and polyester and plastic support beams. There’s nothing sexy about pit stains from the lack of air conditioning or its antithetical twin sister, the bumps that rise over chilly skin and trembling bones without the luxury of an electric heater. There’s nothing innately erotic about kindling fire like electricity doesn’t exist, and cooking hot dogs on skewers over the flame, and perpetually swatting at insects that incessantly stick to shins and calves like the flesh there is coated in sugar. 

There is something sexy, though, when it comes to the way Harry’s arms work as he pitches a tent, bi’s and tri’s intermingling in an alluring duet, pumping and settling with each motion. The sleeves of his tee ride up when he raises the limbs, and sunlight catches shadow in ridge and sinew of muscle. There’s something sexy in the way his back ripples, in the way that thin fabric does nothing to cover what she imagines — no, what she’s well aware lies underneath. The same traps and lats she’s scraped her nails over and dug into. The same shoulders she’s sunk her teeth into to bridle cries of bliss. 

There’s something hot about the cinch in his brow when he works, something alluring in the curl at the plush of his mouth when he turns his head and beams lopsidedly at something that their friend has said, too low for Y/N to catch. There’s something sexy in the way that his eyes skim her frame when she’s sitting in a fold-out chair with sunglasses. When his eyes glide over his shoulder. It’s in the most subtle way. There’s something sexy in the way he tears that gaze away. 

There’s something sexy in the way that no one around them knows she spends nights bouncing on his cock. 

This lustrous affair — this sneaky fling. This filthy, dirty secret that only the two of them share, slinking and sidling through the shadows. 

Really, it’s nothing more than a raunchy circumstance of friends-with-benefits, only kept on the down-low to evade prying questions from friends and the sickly confrontation of …feelings. Because it’d be easy to admit they’re fucking, that they’ve been hooking up for months after an impromptu, late night of drinking. But then it’s sort of cementing, right? At least, in a way. 

There’s a status that floats about when you confess you’re sleeping with somebody — when you admit that you’ve entangled them into your routine beyond one mishap of sex. In the eyes of your friends, admitting that you’ve upkept a sex buddy through the roll of the seasons is, like. Well, it’s basically admitting some form of something sentimental. 

They’re just fucking. They’re just friends that fuck. And the way that nobody around them has any sort of suspicion that he’ll most likely be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night for that... 

That’s sexy, the young woman thinks. 

They’re coiled around the campfire once the sun has ducked out and simmered off behind the trees, and Y/N thinks about it. She watches the shape of his features glow beyond the crackle of the flame, and she thinks about the way his nose bumps over her clit when he licks into her. She watches his mouth move when he talks, a muted strawberry that’s dimmed in the night, and she thinks about the cushion of it pressing open-mouthed kisses to her flesh. She’s in his sweatshirt, because she had to borrow one, and it smells like him. She’s coated in it — his scent. Warm, pleasant musk and remnants of tantalizing cologne. It reminds her of the way the same sweatshirt had been discarded and draped over the foot of her bed haphazardly one night, as he kneed his way onto the mattress and clambered over her, fingertips exploring and tongue trailing. It reminds her of the way he smells when he brushes past her in the company of others, just solid weight and warmth. He does it nonchalantly, but the green of his eyes is knowing and flirtatious. That’s when the same scent teases her senses. It reminds her of the way he smells when he’s up close and personal, when he’s rocking against her and groaning softly into the nook between her shoulder and her neck. 

She stares at his hands — the way they lay over the armrests of his fold-out, the way lengthy digits adorned with chunky rings cradle a can of beer. She imagines the same fingers wrapped over her throat, squeezing lightly, in that way that he does. 

Y/N isn’t panting into the chill of the air. The white of her exhales just surface …quicker. His hands, and his smell, and his mouth are entirely irrelevant to the matter. 

By the time they all retire to their respective tents, the young woman is pleased to get a breather from his hands and his …ludicrously plush, smiley mouth. At least in a public circumstance, so she can’t be caught fawning over his mannerisms from a distance. The smell …she can’t escape that. In all honesty, it should be shameful, basking in the scent of a sweatshirt. Instead, she coils up in it under the covers.

She’s turned on her side with gritty rock coursing through wire, chords of guitar and drums rippling out from the little speakers in her ears, entirely engrossed as she scrolls through what little apps can manage access without a durable station of wifi. 

Y/N nearly squeals when an arm slinks over her chest, when a palm nudges over her mouth. And then another hand is plucking at one of the earbuds, giving her leeway into the crinkle of the sleeping bag, crickets, and the sound of bated breaths behind her. 

A low baritone, hushed and teasing against the same ear where the earbud’s been removed, “Easy, baby.” 

The gentle murmur that his lips shape does, frankly, little to soothe the hammer of her heart. In fact, if anything, the muscle soars in pace behind bone with the way cushiony pink grazes her jaw, the way his warm weight presses up behind her. 

“Easy.” 

She’d sit up and turn over her shoulder if she had the opportunity, but the same inky, muscly arm she’d admired hours earlier cradles over, preventing the motion. Harry can tell too, evidently, based on his soft snicker. He’s pleased from the way her head juts to steal a peer back. He’s pleased when she doesn’t succeed.

Instead of letting up, he takes the same earbud he’d pulled out and presses it into his own ear so that they’re sharing the set, crooning, “What are you listening to? Hm?” 

He sponges another kiss to the side of her throat, a stray tendril flopping over his forehead. Y/N knows that he’s listening to it, too, then. She knows from the playful, little nudge of his head with the rhythm, from the way the cord of the earbuds grows taut, from the sound of mirth he muzzles to her skin when he drives his mouth over the side of her neck. The young woman wriggles her arm, just enough for his grip to loosen, and then uses the opportunity to raise her head to take her own earbud out. The motion jostles Harry from the nook he’s seemingly made homage in, and he nips at her earlobe in protest. Anyways, the whole thing sends a chill wracking down her shoulders. 

When he lets up, Y/N twists in his grasp to her back. The earbuds splay over her chest, his own discarded, too. There’s still music seeping softly. She blinks, gaze tracing over his features, basked in shadow and soft amusement. 

“Hey,” she croaks, her voice catching on a crack with the effort to keep quiet. 

And Harry drags a thumb down her stomach, fingers meddling where the fabric of her (no, his) hoodie has rucked up. The ticklish sensation makes her shift a little. His mouth quirks, and he smooths over the same spot again. 

“Hey, you.” 

Her lips part and her tummy jolts when he slips the chilly pad of his thumb back over the line he’d run for a third time. She wants to bring her own hand up and trace the contours of his cocky mouth with her fingertips. It shapes the words, like baritone bathed in honey, “Ticklish?” 

When he brushes over a fourth time, her arm twitches, and her hand shoots for his wrist, squeezing lightly. Corners of muted pink spring up, dimples scoring softly. 

“Yes,” she gripes in a whisper, but the gripe doesn’t come out very gripey at all. Instead, it’s sort of small — that’s on account of his warm weight shifting onto her. Which is a new development, and it’s one that stirs something familiar and warm below the sleeping bag she’s nestled into, half-zipped and mostly just thrown over. 

His sturdy thigh slips in the empty gap between her own, and Harry ducks his head, the dimples deepening and the glint of white teeth escaping through the part of his lips. And then he dips lower until his face is nearly tucked into her hair. 

“I missed you,” his admission is soft-spoken. It’d be sort of tender if it didn’t come out so …hungry. 

Y/N takes in a little, shuddery breath. The same hand that's settled over her hipbone comes up to brush hair away from her throat, and a mouth stipples kisses over her pulse. His voice is a raspy, desirous tease, “Did you miss me?” 

Christ. She thinks that maybe if he were telepathic and had even a brief glimpse into the filthy things that’d cycled behind her skull for the duration of the day, then he’d only be more smug. 

That’s dangerous. 

She’s glad he isn’t. 

The young woman hums — an apathetic sound that feigns contemplation, like his touch doesn’t light every nerve ending in her system on fire, like she hasn’t spent hours staring at his arms, his mouth, his hands. Like she hasn’t been picturing expanses of muscle and skin hidden under his tee, imagining her tongue tracing through the vales of his v-line and her fingertips following the trail of hair below his belly button, slipping lower and lower…

“No?” Harry murmurs, lips bumping wetly over her flesh. What follows is a gentle exhale, and then his mouth is sponging another open-mouthed kiss, and his tongue brushes warmth against her, like he’s petting with it over her pulse. He caresses all the way back to her ear. Something dirty and thrilling slinks down the knobs of her spine when he mumbles, unconvinced, “I think you’re lying to me, little miss.” 

Her breath stutters. 

“I think,” Harry muses, fingers dipping beneath the shroud of the sleeping bag and smoothing back over her waist testingly, “that if I had a look right now, you’d be a drippy mess.”

Her throat bobs on a swallow. Petulantly, and so obviously feigning, Y/N tips her chin back and tells him, “…Not at all.”

Instead of smoothing tips of digits back over the naked, little expanse of skin again, they venture lower, teasing at the waistband of her sleep shorts. “I think your sweet, little pussy would tell me otherwise, wouldn’t it, pet?” 

Another deep breath rolls her chest under the cushioned sheet of fabric when fingertips dwell in. Just centimeters, practically. They retreat. Harry presses another kiss just below her ear. 

“Hm? It’s been so empty all day long. Achy, I bet.” Chills rise awake all over when he murmurs, purely condescending pity painting every syllable, “Poor baby.” 

He’s always had it — this gift of filthy, dirty gab. This ability to render her craving and wanting with his words like it’s innate, practically. She shouldn’t be surprised when he shifts over her, just enough for her to feel how hard he is, tips of his curls tickling at her cheek, “Could stuff it full. Make it all better.” 

Y/N sighs. Finally. Like it’s a release of the whole act, and the seams of it come apart to bliss when he nips with his teeth. She cranes her neck to give him more room to work. 

“Would you like that?” 

And she would, she thinks. Very, very much, and his lingering fingers — when they pull out and he hooks a thumb in and just tugs down a smidge — remind her of how hot she suddenly is. How hot everything is, despite the chill in the air. Instead of answering, the young woman nudges with her chin — a nod. An unsatisfactory one, evidently. 

“Words,” Harry mutters. It’s gentle, and quiet, and she hopes the polar opposite of the way he’s going to fuck her.

She cranes her neck more and splays her thighs what little she can under his weight. It’s kind of a plea. It’s also sort of pathetic. “Yes.” 

But it makes his mouth crook. His palm draws away. No. That wasn’t the intended effect. She curbs her sound of protest, but he can tell that it’s bridled in the chamber — she knows because the curl of mirth grows wider. He sits up a bit, bracing on his arms until he hovers over her, and then he sighs, jade sliding to the sector of the bag that’s zipped. Slowly, like he’s teasing, he grips over the notch and tugs. 

“What d’you do if you want me to stop?” Harry beckons, nearly a whisper but not quite, fingers skimming up under his hoodie. The same hoodie clings to her flesh, and every nerve sparks alive at the touch, striking her lungs to expand heavier. The air catches when the pads of his fingers graze up the vale of her sides and siphon a flinch. 

“Teacup,” Y/N breathes the safeword in response, and the fingertips climb her ribs like a staircase, pleased. 

“Good girl,” He tells her, and the pads sink back over, bumping over the ridges, and he tugs the fabric up over her chest. 

Her bra is red. It’s a nice detail, all lacy cupped over her chest. He draws the tip of an index over the edge and says, “Cheeky,” like his comment isn’t, “…Did you wear this to get fucked?” 

The young woman gnaws at her lip. Innately, it’s not an accurate statement. She didn’t wear it to get fucked — not when she knew he’d be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night and fucking into her regardless of the state of her underthings. But it’s a nice touch when he ducks, palm squeezing over one of her tits, and tacks on all low against her ear, like it’s praise, “Because you know I love you in red, pet.” 

The satisfaction of pleasing him buds in her chest, right at the core of her ribcage, warmth pitted deep, and it slinks out like beams of gooey sunshine, winding and seeping through the cavity until her veins practically thrum yellow. She’s buzzing beneath him, pulse thumping and fibers of muscle twitching. It makes his mouth curve — the way he feels her trembling under him like she’s a taut string, and he traces a thumb over her mouth. 

Then jade flits to her chest, and Harry takes the thumb away to hook fingers under the cups and tug. They settle under her tits, perking them, and the way the wire settles over her ribcage isn’t particularly comfortable, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when he shimmies down her body and draws a stripe down with his tongue, all the way from the hollow of her throat to the edge of the bra, settling in between. He kisses down her stomach, green salacious and twinkling up through shadow at her, and his tongue draws a circle around her belly button. His mouth quirks there, too, because it makes her flinch. Because he knew it would. Harry brushes with wet taste buds lower, settles on a side, low on her tummy, and sucks a pressing kiss. Her whole spine wrings and writhes, arching when he pairs the sensation with a dull graze of his hand over a nipple. It’s barely anything, but it’s a touch she longs for. And she doesn’t know why, but it always lights her on fire when the pleasure entwines with something that makes her want to squirm out of her own skin.  

Because when he turns the graze into a pinch and a roll, when he hones on the drag of his tongue and the suckling of his mouth, when he skirts featherlight fingertips up her side like he’s plucking invisible strings, the yellow thrums red, and hot, and hungry. When his mouth lets up and he drags wet lips to curl over the opposite nipple and the featherlight turns more purposeful, squeezing at sensitive flesh, this knocked-out unph escapes her, like a bridled grunt he’s punched from her. Like a half-laugh, like a moan, like a mottled gasp, like discomfort and please-don’t-stop enmeshed, curbed out of desperation. It makes the red fucking neon. 

Harry withdraws with a pop from the bud, and the air bites onto the wet to replace his mouth. The ambiance of rickets and cold reminds her that they’re kind of, sort of, definitely in public, only really shielded from said public (and the intrusive presence of their friend group) by thin sheets of nylon erected with plastic poles. Her eyes say it all then — this hesitation sparking, lashes bouncing and bounding from the nervous shift of her pupils, working from his eyes to his plush mouth and back as he rises to settle over her more. 

“They’re asleep,” he promises, a hushed murmur he seals to her own mouth in a sloppy half-kiss. His top lip ghosts over her cupid's bow, and he smooths a hand back over the vale of her waist where he’d squeezed a second ago. Her chest rolls under him, and her mouth parts, just a little to let a mottled little sound escape, like a wheezing gasp she’s muffled. 

And he muffles it more with his own lips, pressing against her. The sleeping bag rustles, and it’s quiet beyond the stilted sheets barring the wilderness. Harry’s hand skims down. 

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Harry murmurs into her mouth, palm trailing until it stills at the waistband of her shorts, fingertip lingering over an expanse of skin below her belly button that he’s well aware will have her squirming. Y/N jerks. “Here? Or… maybe…”

The young woman practically does a squished, weighted version of a body roll beneath him when he moves his hand to her inner thigh, dragging the pad of his index over the sensitive skin higher up. “Maybe …here? …No, I don’t think so…” 

His tongue licks into her mouth when she opens wider for him, desperate for the taste of him on her tongue, and she nearly gasps over that same tongue — loudly — when his palm cups unceremoniously between her legs. “…I think you want me here. That’s about right, isn’t it?” 

Y/N makes a little noise — it’s something between desperation and wordless agreement, and it quirks the corners of Harry’s mouth, carving dimples in beside his smug beam. The hand withdraws so suddenly she wants to melt into the hungry soil. 

“Yeah, that’s it, sweet thing,” he declares, voice hushed, a bass-deep admission soft-spoken and colored with teasing.

Instead, he presses up until he’s hovering over her and then knees his way back, and then his fingers tuck up under the waistband of her shorts. When he discards them into the beginnings of a pile of clothing beside them, coaxing her hips to rise up enough with a soft word, blood teems into her cheekbones, like it’s all new and foreign. 

It’s not. 

It’s the most comforting and familiar when he traces a fingertip over the cleft at the crotch of her panties, the most familiar when he shimmies his fingertips under the sides of the fabric at her hips and tugs those off, too. It’s familiar when he holds a leg up, fingers gentle at her calf, and sponges kisses up her leg from her ankle to her inner thigh. It’s familiar when his tongue dances over hot, slick, flesh in craving, when it rolls around her clit and circles back. When he’s amused by the proof that he was right, that she is soaked, and his ego inflates like a hot air balloon. It’s familiar in the draw of his tongue, in the brush of his lips, in the way his fingers brush over her thighs, over her hole, over the sensitive areas in between. It’s familiar in the way that she watches stars speckle in the darkness behind her clenched eyelids, in the way that Harry doesn’t let up even as she pants and wrings her own fingers into his curls. In the way that he only responds with a moan against her at the rough treatment of his scalp.  

It’s somewhere between heaven and hell, teetering on the wire, when he laps over her pulsing cunt. His irises flicker up when she shudders, when Y/N makes a futile attempt to clasp her thighs over his head and prevent the light drag of his tongue over her oversensitive button. Instead, he tucks a palm against one of her legs and holds it down, plush lips curling around an ‘o’ and sucking. Every muscle seizes, her fingers twitching and struggling to curl into the thinly stuffed fabric of the sleeping bag. She bridles a whole-body thrash, neck straining as her breath stutters. 

“Please— plea— it’s too much—“ Y/N swallows midway her begging to avoid choking on her own spit, and that’s cute, Harry thinks. 

Aw, Y/N thinks he’d coo up at her from between her thighs, if his mouth wasn’t occupied at her core, those are pretty words. They don’t sound like a safeword, though. 

He doesn’t say that, though. He doesn’t say anything, humming quietly over her clit (honestly, she can’t tell if it’s in protest or agreement) and rolling a slow circle over nerves that are spent and nearly raw post his caress. 

Her chest is still rolling when he clambers his way up onto her, kneeing around her sides and then coaxing her arms up into a stretch. Harry cages those with firm thighs at the roots of the limbs, kneeing his way higher until he’s hovering over her chest and admiring her, all pliant and worn out and obedient beneath him. He sniffs, head cocked and eyes glimmering, and then sighs when he tucks fingers into the waistband of his shorts. Her fingers twitch, outstretched above her. And he’s weightless, and steady, and careful over her, but despite that, filth from his tongue punches her breath out like he’s sat directly over her lungs.

“Gonna suck my cock, baby.” 

It’s not really a question — not in tone. It’s a coo, a declaration, insight before Harry digs his fingers further past elastic and discards two layers of fabric with one tug, and his cock bobs free, glistening with a bead of precum at the head. 

Y/N swipes out over her lips with her tongue, and the sheen of spit over pink nearly matches the glimmer on the pink of his tip. The man cradles his free hand over his base and tucks the waistband lower on his hips, just until it rests under his balls and a glimpse of inked laurels and milky expanses of a bare tan line are on show. Bracing himself with a hand planted on the ground, Harry leans over her and aims his shaft, daubing over the plush of her mouth. When her tongue peeks out to swipe over the silky skin, she thinks he’s going to chastise her for her lack of patience. He doesn’t. Instead, he ogles down at the motion like she’s a goddess, cracks in otherwise apathy morphing; a light crease between his brows, a twitch in his lips. The same lips part for a shuddery breath like he’s trying to reign in his composure. And with every drag of his head over her slippery, hungry taste buds, a slow, side-to-side swipe that seems to lose precision with each motion, those cracks in his control give more. His jaw sets and he takes a long breath in through flared nostrils, and then shifts the palm that’d settled on the ground to rest over her wrists. 

“M’gonna fuck your mouth,” Harry tells her, pupils scoping carefully from her lips to her own eyes in finality. “What do you do if you want me to stop?” 

Y/N blinks. Her fingers twitch. She bends the digits over his grip and squeezes, flexing and unflexing over his own fingers like code in a tempo of frenzy. His gaze doesn’t even flicker from the aim of his tip, and he draws it over her mouth like he’s in awe of the sight.

“Good girl.” 

The young woman takes in a breath, mouth parting over his head slightly, all doe-eyed. He smushes his cockhead to the open seam.

“Open up for me,” the soft croon is accompanied by the tilt of his head, and a stray curl dangles over his forehead when he swipes the tip over her lips, “Nice and wide. Show me that pretty tongue.” 

And it slinks from her mouth as if on mindless command. Harry smears his tip over it like a filthy greeting, and then he feeds his fat cock in, guiding it up until the point to where he’s able to shift his weight onto the hand that doesn’t coat her wrists, careful not to cause the confined joints any discomfort.

“That’s it,” his praise seeps out all breathy, barely over an awed whisper as he sinks in and her tongue flexes to encompass the drag towards her gag reflex, “That’s a good girl.” 

The pointed little end grazes over his balls. 

“Eyes up here, pretty thing,” Harry encourages, ducking his own chin. There’s something pretty in the dance of her lash line, in the way her pupils flit up to his shadowy face, the way her lips tuck over her teeth to cushion his shaft. The way her tongue stays stuck out, flexing under the welcomed intrusion, “…Wanna watch them get all teary.” 

It’s like she tries to appease him. It’s as if on instinct to his words, that her lashes flutter as she tries to peer up, the beginnings of a ready sheen glazing the pretty color there as her tongue twitches and her throat bobs in an attempted swallow.  

And Christ, does it feel good when she does that. 

Harry’s own neck cranes, the muscles there flexing and veins swelling there like little ropes pulled taut under his skin. He groans, and it makes her do it again. His brows are furrowed when he risks a glance down at the picture-perfect view, and his hips nudge forward a smidge, only for him to bask in the sight of her irises lolling back and her lashes batting. A hiss lips through gritted teeth like rain through a gutter, and his head cocks further as he smooths an index to rest over her palm. She doesn’t have her digits balled — not all the way — not until his forefinger rests in her reach. She squeezes over that, almost like it’s an anchor. Something grounding to tether her. 

“Shit,” he manages out, barely over a whisper to bite back a throaty groan, hips rolling and brows furrowed in pleasure, “Shit — you’re good. You’re so good—“

And it makes the twitch of her lashes melt into a flitting bat, the color there rolling back and hiding behind the flutter. She can’t exactly hum in acknowledgment, but Y/N makes this garbled sound around him — this desperate kind she’d only make with his shaft stuffed down her throat, and it’s loud. Too loud. He squeezes over her wrists with his thumb, hips slowing until he’s wedged in to the hilt, stilled with the tip of her nose pressed to the light dusting of his pubic hair.

And Y/N thinks she’s going to implode. She’s going to implode if she doesn’t suffocate over his cock first. 

“Shh, shh,” Harry wriggles the index she’s gripping until her touch loosens enough, and he’s able to stroke the tip over her palm, “Shh.” 

Her pupils flit up to him in this deliciously delirious way for air. Harry tips his head down, the shadow of another curl flopping over his forehead. His cock twitches. Y/N makes another sound over him, this one lower. More pleading. More distressed. Her lashes flutter, cheeks puffing. Just when she’s about to clench and unclench over his fingers, he pulls out. It’s nearly all the way, but not quite, and she wheezes oxygen into her deprived lungs, muffling a fit of coughing. When she turns her head to take in more air, his tip slips out and draws a wet streak of saliva from the corner of her mouth across her cheek. 

“So pretty,” Harry murmurs. His tone sounds distant, and absentminded, and awed, like her mouth is divine and his voice is sort of full of worship, “You take me so well.”

Y/N blinks up at him, lips swollen post his ministrations and parted, slick with spit. Harry adjusts his grip, balancing his weight, and curls his lengthy digits over the base of his cock, aiming it back to that pretty, pretty mouth. 

Her jaw practically unhinges at the implication, tongue sticking out to daub at his cockhead when he croons, “And you’ll take a little more for me, sweetheart. Won’t you?” 

The sultry plush of his mouth curls up, all smug like when the tip of her tongue prods at his head, and then he feeds himself back into the warmth of her mouth. 

“Yeah,” Harry grunts, hips rolling slow and cautious as he guides himself in, “Yeah, you will.” 

He settles back into a pace of shallow, jutting thrusts, slow, and calculated, and testing. But then those melt and meld into something smoother, something deeper that brushes the back of her throat. Her fingers stretch wide and open and curl helplessly, never quite squeezing over his own digits, and Harry basks in the wet, pornographic sounds that envelop his shaft. Even as she tries to dim their volume, the sound of her sputtering around his cock isn’t something she can exactly mask when he brushes her gag reflex, again, and again. With every prod forward, every second she spends with her jaw wide open for him, that flame in her core kindles higher and higher. When he pulls out, jaw clenched and tummy flexing, ridges of his abs caught in the shadows, it’s like he pours kerosene. 

“Suck,” her friend tells her, soft-spoken as he nudges with his hips. His palm cradles his cock, fingers curled under the base. But her range of motion is limited, and Harry tips it up from her wanton, slick lips. Almost like it’s purposeful, because it definitely is.

A tentative tongue slips out to draw over his balls, and the way his front teeth lodge against the plush of his bottom lip, head cocked to indulge in the innocuous peer of her eyes beneath him — that’s a pretty sight she can make out even through the lack of light. She takes a million mental snapshots with her pupils, all of him in his all, curls dangling from the angle and the sharp line of his nose, his panting mouth as her tastebuds drag, sinew of muscle at his abdomen flexing, a rise and fall. The barest shape of the dark anchor etched into his wrist, his long, ring-clad fingers, the way they curl over his cock. The shape of it hovering over her face. 

A low groan squeezes past the door he’s made with his teeth, and then he says, “Yeah. There. Go on.” 

Her tongue morphs to her mouth, lips latching over lightly and sucking, just as he’d directed, and parting teases paste to him like doting kisses. Her lashline bounces as her eyes attempt to make his responses out through the rough angle and the dark that coats them. His head craned back there, his tummy rising and falling in pants there, his face tipped down over her to watch. The most insightful — and frankly, the most satisfying — are the sounds. 

The hisses of air he sucks in through his teeth, the way huffs fall out from between his open lips. They’re slow, and they come out like he’s trying to control them for the sake of the decibel, but they shake as they escape, and that’s a telltale. And then there’s the moans. 

There aren’t many of those to indulge in, but there’s a couple, one that Harry can’t seem to curb, despite his seemingly best efforts, when Y/N rolls her tongue over him all slow-like and comes off with a pop. And then another, later, that has him hanging his head when she stipples kisses to the sensitive skin there. 

“Christ, you’re gonna kill me.” 

The young woman hums, maybe in agreement or maybe goading, lashes batting innocently beneath him as she draws her lips over his sac aimlessly. 

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and then he stifles and clams up like he’s contemplating. When her tongue drags over him again he seems to make a decision, tearing himself away and kneeing his way back until he’s hovering over her thighs, his cock bobbing and wet with spit, “Sit up. Take this off.” 

Do this, do that. A shudder climbs up the knobs of her spine, slithering its way up the bone as she basks in the dominating note plucking at his tone. The sweatshirt catches on her hair and tugs strands, but it’s frenzied, somehow fond, the way his hands rove up her sides and slip up her back, roaming over hot skin to toggle at the back of her bra.

Then it’s, “Roll over,” with the last of her clothing discarded into the darkness, somewhere beside them in the same, sloppy pile with her shorts and her underwear. “Gonna—“ she thinks he sheds his t-shirt then, imagines his muscles rippling and flexing as he pulls it off, over his head from the back, “—fuck you like I want your snug cunt wrapped around me forever.” 

And then go his shorts, judging by the way his weight dips and balances, the shuffling from behind as he kicks them off and they’re flung somewhere by his ankle. He presses up onto her, grappling her by the hip, all warm weight and everything brushing together. 

“You wanna bounce on my cock, baby?” Harry murmurs, pink lips grazing her temple. A curl tickles at her cheekbones when he ducks to skim his teeth over her earlobe, to ghost a breath of promise — of foreshadowing against her neck when he tells her, sultry low and smooth like honey, “Be a good girl and ask Daddy nicely. Maybe then I’ll let you.”  

Shit. Fucking Shit. That little word teems down her ears and hikes all the way down her nervous system and back up, lighting everything in her alive.  

Quietly, barely over a whisper, Y/N beckons, “Please.” And when Harry doesn’t immediately move, she licks out at her slips, swallows, and pleads, “Daddy. I need you. Need you inside.” 

In response, her friend cups a hand over a love handle and guides his cock to press against her. But he doesn’t breach. 

“Better, but not quite,” he sighs. There’s leaves rustling outside in the gentle breeze, but Y/N doesn’t hear anything besides the rush of blood in her ears when she begs more, and it doesn’t get any quieter when Harry rewards her by tucking himself inside and pumping forward, just about halfway. 

It’s a crying shame when he doesn’t make any motion to keep going. And then it’s quiet besides their panting breaths intermingling. Eventually, though, he does talk.

“Fuck yourself on it,” Harry instructs, cadence ludicrously controlled given that half of his cock is tucked into her. Y/N peers over her shoulder to catch glimpses of his furrowed brows — the rip in the stitch of semblance. She can only manage to see so much. He ducks his head and nips at the shell of her ear, coaxing tingles down her neck, her shoulders, all the way from her nape. “Go on. Don’t pretend to be shy about it.” 

Fucking fuck. How can she not be, she thinks, when he talks like that? 

There’s a heat that seeps over her the crest of her cheekbones where he can’t see, and she squeezes over him in response to the filth. Harry settles back up. From the corner of her eye, Y/N notes lines of muscle shaping his arms as he hovers over her. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she arches her hips up a tad and nudges back. It’s not enough — it’s maybe an inch, and she rocks forward by pressing her hips down and then repeats the motion. Just as there was a lack of control over her shame when he spewed dirty, brazen, filth, there’s also a lack of motion when she’s rolled forward with her tummy pressed to the ground. There’s only so much — so many inches she can ride back on when she’s rendered immobile. 

He knows it, too — it’s obvious by the poorly muffled note of mirth in his tone from behind, “Good girl. But you can do better than that, can’t you?” 

Helplessly, Y/N grits her teeth, fingers tangling into the fabric of her sleeping bag as she rolls her hips back in another attempt. It’s stuttery, and awkward, and not really a seamless, Shakira-esque roll at all. It’s a poor shuffle, hips raising more than traveling back. 

“Come on,” Harry goads, tutting like her tries are half-assed and she’s not currently exerting her body into creating motions that are simply unrealistic, “Take it proper. You want it? Then take it. Show me.” 

Camping is supposed to be wholesome. Camping is supposed to be laughter, and deep, pure breaths of air that scrub out the tainted glaze of city life from the walls of your lungs, sticky like cigarette smoke residue on the walls of a house. It’s hiking boots stuffed with the thickest socks. It’s marshmallows on twigs over curdling flames that lick up, it’s flashlights, and spooky myths and legends verbalized, and more laughter. 

Instead, Y/N is camping, and she’s currently barely grinding over inches of Harry’s cock. 

“I can’t,” she grits out, frustrated, but it sounds more like a whine than anything with bite.

“You can’t? Sure you can, pet,” Harry grapples over her hip, bracing on one arm in, honestly, an impressive showcase of athleticism, and manually rakes her hips back over him. It allows for more — more of him, more of his cock, more of his touch. More of him splitting her open and spreading her apart over him. “Just like this, right?” 

She’s sure he must be meeting her at least a quarter, if not halfway, though. It all feels like a devious ploy. Y/N whines. He makes this amused sound then, one of those puffs expelled through his nostrils like a half-laugh, accompanied by a hum. And then he pulls out and pumps his hips forward, until he’s flush to her backside, and then reverses and repeats. Three times. He gives her three, good, long, full thrusts, smoothing out to the tip and in to the root until she’s stuffed, just like he’d promised. Then, he presses in all the way and just basks in her heat. 

“Better?” Harry asks, but his tone catches on a quiet grunt and wavers in its prior composure. She squeezes over him, really squeezes, and he muffles a groan with the seal of his mouth. For a second, he doesn’t say anything at all, and then the filth spills again. It’s odd how patronizing he can sound, despite the way her cunt so obviously affects him, “Need Daddy to do all the work, is that it?” 

Y/N hums. There isn’t much she can say to disagree because it’s good. At some point, his slow rolls morph into sharp juts, and the brace of his arms bends and gives until his chest is flush to her back. 

“Please, please, please, please,” Y/N croaks out the mantra, muzzled by the smush of her cheek to the ground with the pressure of his hand palming at the side of her skull. 

“Shh,” Harry rocks forward, fingertips twitching into her roots like a meld of petting and admonishment. He rocks into her until he’s flush against her backside, splitting her over him to the hilt, “Shh …don’t need to beg, sweetheart. You can have it. Have it all.”

He’s warm weight over her, hard muscle like hot, sticky stone as he works into her from behind. He’s a welcome stretch, a pleasant burn, inches of bliss that her spongy walls cling to in a warm hug. He’s tips of curls brushing over her cheeks, filthy words in a murmur flush to the shell of her ear, little, repressed grunts and shuddery exhales as his hips rock. He’s a headlock that squeezes over her throat deliciously and keeps her neck craned back. It’s in this perfect way that almost has her gasping for breath. 

The young woman practically bites into her tongue to curb a nearly animalistic groan that climbs from the depths of her chest and squeezes out past her detained windpipe. She doesn’t need to try as hard when his opposite arm shimmies up over the poorly-cushioned sleeping bag, when his hand clamps against her mouth, palm smushing over her lips. Instead, her high whimper catches on his skin and muffles out. Her nostrils flare over his digits when Harry shushes and chastises through grunts. 

“I know, baby. I know. Need you to be — shit — a good, quiet girl for me, though.”

Her irises nearly loll back into her skull, fluttery for the ceiling of fabric in their sockets at the dominating tone of his cadence. 

“Gonna be good for me? Make me—“ his words taper off when he muzzles a groan with the seal of his own lips, and what comes out is hushed, and masculine, and obviously bridled. But it doesn’t make her as hungry as when he beckons, “—Make me pleased with you?”

Because she wants to please him, wants to be good, wants his digits to press harder over her tongue when he slinks them into her mouth. It’s not her fault when the motion siphons a whimper. So Harry does — press harder that is, an inclination for her lips to wrap over his fingers, his chin tucked over her shoulder. His mouth presses to her temple, gracing her with puffs of air through his nose as he rocks into her.

“There we go,” Harry coos, soft and barely over a whisper when her mouth seals over the intrusive digits, “There’s a good girl. Let’s keep those pretty sounds to ourselves.” 

He rocks into her until she’s whining into his hand, until they’re really slick with sweat, and he’s grazing at his own peak, working until it unravels him from the inside out. She’s still making hushed sounds against his palm when he groans all low into her hair and his motions melt into something stuttery, when he empties ribbon after ribbon as she clenches over him and milks him through it.

He’s probably going to rifle through the dark for some discarded fragment of fabric to clean the mess. It’ll be haphazard on account of the night, and she’ll still feel the sticky remnants, dried up at the peaks of her inner thighs in the morning. But it won’t really be gross. Sort of a sordid, morning-after keepsake, sort of a dirty thrill as they pack their stuff among the others in their cohort. Sort of, probably, an excuse to fuck later in the day when they have a moment alone to themselves, reminiscing on the night before. 

But before that, he’ll probably clean his mess and run a hand down the vale of her side in a praising caress, like he normally does. Probably lay next to her for a bit before sneaking off to his own tent because, even though they’re just friends that fuck, he’s never been weird about cuddling — aftercare is sort of a must. He’ll probably say goodnight with another searing kiss, the kind that burns deep inside, because every time he leaves is kerosene actively poured into the pit of a bonfire. Because every time he leaves, she wants him more.

Tomorrow they’ll still be friends. 

Just friends that fuck.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #dom!harry x sub!reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #fwb!harry #fwb au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shots #dom!harry

[cupid-styles]

omg bestieeeee i so need hocker h nd ballerina to talk and smooch !!!!! ngl i’m a sucker for protective and jealous h 🤭🤭🤭🤭 🐱

I feel like ive made you guys wait way too long for this one gvkdfjgkf

a continuation of this blurb! (and sort of this one)

word count: 2.3k (we had a lot of ground to cover)

content warnings: minor mentions of smut, slight angst but all is fixed by the end, not ramadan friendly

main masterlist | hockey h masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Two weeks.

Two weeks of radio silence from Y/N.

Two weeks of over-thinking everything he did that night.

Two weeks of Harry drunk texting her on lonely nights.

please just tell me if you hate me

im so sorry

ill leave you alone if its what you want, I just need to know

Each and every time, Y/N read his messages, eyes scanning over the words, and locked her phone.

The truth is, she doesn't know what she wants from him, if anything. She doesn't know why she felt so attracted to him that night — she was tipsy, not drunk, and in complete control of her actions. She never hooked up with people in public — no messy makeouts, but she certainly never let anyone finger her in the hallway of a bar.

The entire thing was completely unlike her. Maybe that's what scared her the most.

Deep down, she wanted to reply to him, but she didn't even know what to say. She didn't want him to leave her alone — maybe that was selfish, but she liked knowing he was at least a little okay. She'd even been keeping secret tabs on the hockey team. They had won their past two games, but Harry had been thrown out in the most recent one for unsportsmanlike conduct. Apparently, he'd gotten into a fight with one of the players on the other team.

Admittedly, that worried her, but she didn't want to be his babysitter. On top of that, the spring showcase was this weekend, and she'd thrown every last bit of her energy into rehearsing and practicing to make sure her performance would be absolutely flawless.

She didn't have the time — or mental capacity — to worry about Harry right now.

. . .

"You look like an idiot."

Harry rolls his eyes as he adjusts the collar on his button down for the third time. James and his girlfriend Melanie had helped him with ironing it out so it looked presentable enough on his body. Anything he ever did rarely called for slacks and button up shirts, but Melanie advised him to look polished and put-together for tonight.

He wasn't in a place to reject her advice.

The other teammates that James lived with weren't quite as kind. Stephen, a sophomore defenseman who was only on the team for the perks of sleeping with every girl he could get his hands on, wouldn't stop throwing sarcastic comments Harry's way.

"Shut up, Stephen!" Melanie calls from the living room. She marches into James' bedroom as Harry smoothes out a few leftover wrinkles in his slacks, swallowing tightly. "When's the last time you cared about something besides fucking random girls? At least Harry has some direction in his life."

"I'm just saying, the girl's been ignoring him for weeks. She's gonna laugh in his face."

"Leave!" Melanie exclaims, batting him on the shoulder. Stephen lets out a yelp of pain and Harry smirks, despite the anxiety throbbing in his chest. "You're not helping! Get out!"

Reluctantly, Stephen rolls his eyes as he follows Melanie's orders and leaves the room. She sighs and comes up from behind Harry before flashing him a hopeful grin.

"You look great, H. I think this is a really sweet gesture."

He nibbles on his bottom lip as he turns to face her. "Okay, but what if Stephen's dumbass is right? She could call security on me and have me removed."

Melanie gives him a sympathetic look, "Yeah, it's a possibility. But isn't it better to go down fighting?"

He shrugs.

"You said ballet is her everything. It's her entire life. Show her that you're willing to integrate yourself into that."

"Yeah," he breathes out, nodding slowly. "Yeah, you're right."

"I know I am." she grins. "Okay, let's get you over there. Don't forget the flowers you picked up!"

. . .

30 minutes later, Harry can't stop shifting uncomfortably as he sits in an aisle seat in the campus auditorium at Y/N's spring showcase.

The massive bouquet of flowers in his lap keep making his nose run and he feels like he's being suffocated by the buttons on his shirt that go all the way up to his neck. Best of all, according to the show program, Y/N isn't scheduled to go on until the very end. She mentioned to him once that being placed as the finale act is the best and biggest compliment, and he can't fight the bit of pride that thrums in his heart.

For an hour, he sits there, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt and pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he waits for Y/N to go on. He sits through mediocre singing showcases and even a violin solo that almost puts him to sleep, if not for the older man clearing his throat next to him. Melanie and James even text him during the intermission to see how it's going, but he doesn't have much to report back.

Finally, the show comes to a close and her name is announced, following by the title of the French piece of music she's dancing to. His heart throbs in his chest — he's so nervous for her, especially knowing she hurt her ankle just a few weeks back. But the second she graces the stage, she's a vision of beauty, strength, and delicacy all at the same time. It's enough to take Harry's breath away.

As he sits there watching her, he doesn't move a muscle. Not for a single jump, spin, or step. He doesn't know anything about ballet — not aside from what Y/N has told him — but in that moment, he realizes that he'd be willing to learn every little thing there is to know if it meant she let him back into her life.

She's gorgeous. She offers a flawless performance and the second she's finished, a look of relief washes over her face as she takes a subdued bow, her pretty eyes widening when she sees all the people — Harry included — standing and applauding her.

For Y/N, the hard part was over. For Harry, it had just begun.

. . .

Y/N is elated to have a moment of silence after her performance.

With the dressing room door shut behind her, she lets out a long, deep breath. The dance she'd been driving herself crazy over for months was finally over.

And yet, for some reason, she feels empty.

She shoves it down as sits, eager to get her pointe shoes off. She's ready to shed her costume and get into sweatpants and head home. She knows the rest of the performers are heading out to a party tonight, but she's exhausted.

She's sorting through the bag of clothes she brought when there's a soft knock at the door. She knows she only has around 20 minutes to get out before the janitorial staff starts cleaning, so she rises with a sigh, unlocking the door and opening it.

"I'll be done soon, I just need to change—"

It's not the janitor, though.

It's Harry. Standing there stiffly in a starchy button down with a huge bouquet of flowers that almost encompass the width of his broad shoulders.

"What are you doing here?" she blurts without thinking.

"I came to watch you perform," he replies gently. His throat bobs as he hands her the flowers. "These are for you."

"You didn't watch me." she snorts with a shake of her head. She hasn't accepted the bouquet yet.

"Yes, I did," he instantly fires back, "What, do you wanna see my ticket for proof? I was in seat F34, next to an old man who kind of smelled like soup, and he kept clearing his throat and it was really annoying but I didn't care because I came to see you, and I'd sit through hours of bullshit to watch you dance."

Harry can't read the blank expression of her face, but he takes it as a step in the right direction when she takes the flowers from him. She blinks as she glances past him and then steps aside, motioning for him to come in.

"I have to get my shit together and leave soon, so... just sit in here."

He nods. He's hesitant to allow himself to relax since he's not sure if he's in the clear yet. She closes the dressing room door behind her and places the bouquet on her vanity.

"I need to change," she says, spinning around to face him. "Close your eyes."

He chuckles until he sees the serious expression on her face. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, really."

"But... I— y'know—"

"Just turn the fuck around, Harry."

He does as he's told, shutting his eyes as he listens to her roll her tights down and step out of her leotard. One day, if she let him, he'd be more than happy to do that for her — not even in a sexual way, but he knows how tiring it can be to take off his own gear after a long game. He thinks it would be nice to be there for her.

"Okay, you're good," she murmurs. She's stuffing her things in her tote bag when he bats his eyes back open.

"Are you meeting up with anyone after this? I'm sure your friends came to see you, but I just wanted to maybe talk and... y'know, clear the air a bit." Harry says, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. Y/N furrows a brow as she analyzes his body language. She doesn't think she's actually seen him look anxious before.

"Um... no," she says with a shake of her head before quickly revising her answer, "No, I mean, I'm not meeting up with anyone and no one came to see me. Except you, I guess."

"Wait, really?"

She sighs as she pauses the process of gathering her things. "Really, Harry."

He swallows tightly. They're silent for a moment as she grabs her jacket and throws it over her shoulders.

"Come over and we'll talk. I borrowed my friend Matt's car for the night but— yeah, you can follow me to my place or whatever. And I can't promise I'll be awake for much longer but I think clearing the air could be... good."

A rush of relief makes its way through Harry's body.

"Okay. Yeah, let's do that."

. . .

"I never said it, but you were flawless tonight."

Y/N laughs breathily as she settles onto her couch, a cup of sleepy time tea in her hand. Harry rejected her offer for one (his response had been, "Y/N, do I look like someone who drinks tea with a sleeping bear on it?") but he'd be lying if he said it didn't at least smell good.

"I fucked up on one of my jetés — I'll get yelled at for it on Monday, but otherwise I'm decently content with the performance."

"Well, you couldn't tell," Harry replies, "Seriously. You were perfect."

Her cheeks warm and she stares down at her tea. Her legs are sprawled out in front of her while Harry sits on the other edge of the couch, giving her plenty of room to stretch out.

"So... clearing the air."

Harry clears his throat and nods, prepared to embark on the speech he'd been practicing in his head for weeks. But then, she speaks.

"I'm sorry for running out on you and ignoring you," she says, keeping her gaze down in her lap. "That wasn't... I'm not the best person. I'm bad at feelings and I use ballet as a crutch. I figure it's the one thing I'm really, exceptionally good at, and that should give me a pass in life but I know that's not true. I can't just go around treating people like shit because I'm... scared."

"What are you scared of?" Harry asks through furrowed brows. "I'm sorry if I stepped out of line that night, I should've been better—"

"You didn't. You were great. You did everything perfectly," she replies with a shake of her head. Her response surprises him, but he tries to hide the shock on his face. "I'm scared because you're you. You're a hotshot hockey player and, besides this showcase, you're the only other thing I've thought about these past few weeks. That's horrifying for me."

"Is this...?" Harry attempts to roll his lips into a thin line, preventing a smirk from bursting onto his face. "Is this a very Y/N way of telling me that you like me?"

She groans, as if it's the worst thing to ever happen to her, and it makes Harry laugh.

"Don't laugh at me!" she exclaims. That only makes Harry cackle even louder as he slowly crawls over to her, taking her warm cup of tea out of her hands and placing it on the coffee table.

"You're cute when you're exasperated." he murmurs. She pouts and his eyes crinkle with a grin as he peels her shaky hands away from her face.

"You're the one exasperating me."

"I know," he replies lowly, licking his lips as his face hovers over hers, "I like it."

"This isn't us agreeing to date, by the way." she quickly tacks on. He issues out a mhm as he leans forward, testing the waters, and pressing a light kiss to her nose. "We need to take it slow. Like, painfully slow. Or else I'll freak out and run away again."

"Whatever you want." he mumbles, kissing her right cheek. "I mean it."

"And you can't just overwhelm me whenever you feel like it."

He laughs and kisses her left cheek, then her forehead.

"Okay. Any other demands?"

He stops pasting kisses to her face then, instead choosing to simply loom his lips over hers. He can feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest and watches as she swallows nervously.

"No," she finally whispers. "Just kiss me."

And so he does.

#writing #hockey h #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles one direction #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles au #harry styles smut #one direction #harry styles x y/n #hockerry #harry's house #fine line #hs4

[vivwritesfics]

I'm Having Your Baby

It's None Of Your Business

It was supposed to just be a one night stand. It wasn't supposed to be anything more. But three positive pregnancy tests later and she realises she's fucked.

(I actually don't like Harry Styles)

Warnings: smut, mention of abortion

The bass was thumping, the music blasting and the lights flying in the club. She was letting loose, shaking her hips in time to the music. She was the envy of everybody in the club.

He was across the dance floor, sat in one of the booths lining the wall. In his hands was a jack and coke, the ice in his glass almost completely melted. Although he was on the other side of the club, he could still see her. Actually, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Something about her drew him closer. He wove his way through the crowds of people until he was standing in front of her, hands of her gyrating hips. Wordlessly she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her body along with his.

He knew he had to have her. Carlos kissed her that night. He pulled her close as he pressed his lips to her. Before long his tongue was down her throat and they had forgotten about dancing.

She ended up at his place that night. He laid her down in his bed and stripped off her clothes. She shivered in the cool air of his bedroom, but it wasn't long before his warm, naked body was on top of hers, thrusting into her, bring wave after wave of pleasure.

He rolled his hips against her, setting his pace according to his moan. He was completely focused on bringing her pleasure again and again.

Nobody had ever fucked her like that before. No single man had ever made her cum that many times.

But still, she was out of his bed, out of his house before he woke up, never to see him again.

The pregnancy test was taken three and a half weeks later. At 25 days she realised she had missed her period. It wasn't worrying until she remembered her counter in the club.

But she never expected it to come up positive. It must have been a fluke she realised. There was no way she was actually pregnant. Not after a single occurrence of unprotected sex.

But then she took another test. And then another. They all came up positive. Fuck, she really was pregnant. And she didn't even know the name of the father.

Actually, it was pretty easy to find out the name of the father. Her little brother was into Formula One, and she recognised him the moment he walked onto the screen.

She hadn't told her family of her pregnancy yet, and she wouldn't, not until she absolutely had to. She hid her pregnancy tests in her apartment and headed off to spend time with them.

It was a Sunday, so of course her brother was watching Formula One while her mother prepared Sunday night dinner. She was sat behind her brother, sipping lemonade as the driver's on the screen were interviewed.

The camera slowly panned across the Ferrari garage. Her glass dropped out of her hand, shattering on the floor. "What the hell?" Her brother shrieked as he stood up, avoiding the smashed glass.

"Who is that?" She asked as she pointed to the number 55 driver. He looked just as he did all those weeks ago, somehow better in his black fireproofs and red overalls.

Her brother gave her a frown. "That? That's Carlos Sainz, but why do you care?"

But she had already disappeared into the bathroom to throw up until she was dry heaving. Her baby daddy was Carlos Sainz, the world famous Ferrari driver.

It took her a moment to calm down. When she did, she opened her Instagram and went to his account. She scrolled through his account, as if to make sure it was definitely him. But it was undeniable.

It was a gamble going into his messages. But she had to do something to get his attention, had to let him know what was going on. If he didn't see it then so be it, she didn't need him to raise their baby.

Hi, you might not remember me but we hooked up a month ago. We met in the club and I was wearing a red dress with converse. Well, I'm pregnant.

She sent the message and walked out of the bathroom. The glass had been cleaned up from the living room floor and her family were already sat around the dinner table, the race on in the background. Her legs shook as she joined them.

"Is everything okay, dear?" Her mother asked and she nodded her head. She'd tell them, but not today.

Three days later Carlos Sainz messaged her on Instagram. She couldn't quite believe it when she woke up to that notification.

I remember

That was all he said. It was disappointing, actually. Where did she go from here?

Carlos Sainz said nothing more to her, not until a few months later. She got on with her life while their child grew inside of her, and he got on with his.

Or she assumed he did, at least. Actually, Carlos hadn't stopped thinking about it. It was distracting him from racing and training, and stopping him from eating and drinking.

He remembered her from the club, remembered fucking her. Remembered the way his cock slipped through her velvety folds.

It was one night, it couldn't have been his, right?

After four months of needless stress, Carlos finally messaged her again.

I'm sorry to do this but I need you to prove it to me

No, it was fair enough. She grabbed her pregnancy tests, stood in front of her mirror with her bump exposed. That was the picture she sent to Carlos. That was the picture that made him realise that he really was going to be a father.

Fuck. A new wave of stress rolled through him. What was he supposed to do now?

Are you keeping it?

Yes, she texted back. Yes, I'm keeping it

That wasn't the answer that Carlos wanted to see. He was going to be a father and he really didn't want to.

I want nothing to do with it

She sucked in a breath. Fine, she didn't need him. They didn't need him. But still she accepted Carlos' request on Instagram.

Something in her still wanted his attention. As soon as she could, and for as little money as possible, she booked tickets to the next grand prix.

It was hot, swelteringly so. She was dressed in a tight fitting shirt and shorts that showed off her bump. Her parents paid for paddock passes and she spent as long as she could walking in front of the Ferrari garage.

Carlos noticed her, but not right away. It was a minute before he regnised her. But then he was Marching over to her. "What're you doing here?" He hissed as he pulled her away from prying eyes.

She swallowed thickly. "I..." but she had nothing prepared to say to him, no excuse. She'd hoped him just seeing her bump would change his mind.

But it remained unchanged.

"I'm here with my girlfriend. You can't be here," he said. He hadn’t looked at her bump, not yet. "Get out of here," he hissed.

But she stepped up to him. "I'm having your baby, Carlos."

"It's none of my business." He turned on his heel and walked away.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader smut #carlos sainz x you #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 smut

[freedomfireflies]

Tell Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

The one where your best friend Harry suggests a fun, friendly little game of horny Simon Says.

Word Count: 1.8k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, choking, Daddy kink

The look on his face is absolutely feral.

Your heart is in your throat. Pounding between your legs. Racing beneath your chest. 

And he’s looking at you like he’s ready to take you over his knee and show you exactly how much he’s missed you.

He takes a step forward, expression firm and never wavering. He studies you. Studies your trembling thighs, your quivering lips. He studies and he plots and he grins because he knows you’ll do anything he fucking asks.

He reaches the bed and his chin raises. “Are you gonna be good for me, Bee?”

You nod quickly. Of course. Always.

“Good.” He smiles and it makes your insides wrench. “And you still wanna play our little game?”

You nod again. “Yes, please.”

“Good girl. Then are you ready?”

“Yes.”

He smirks. “Harry says…lift your pretty skirt up.”

Quickly, you oblige, pulling the black fabric along your thighs and toward your hips. An easy task and you're eager to make him proud.

You can tell he's tempted to look. But he doesn’t. He keeps his attention on you. Only. Always. “Harry says pull your little panties to the side.”

Again, you obey. Hooking a finger around the already damp fabric and peeling it away from your cunt until the cold air finds you.

You shiver. He grins.

“Harry says spread your legs.”

You do. Easy.

He nods and his arms cross and he’s oddly calm. Focused. He takes another step closer and you could almost grab him. “Harry says show me how wet you are.”

You lean back and now he looks. He’s intrigued. Pleased. Proud. 

And the devious grin that splits his face is enough to ruin you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs and then he’s crouching down between your knees. Lining his eyes up with your cunt in the most intimate of ways. “Touch your clit for me.”

Your fingers twitch and you almost do, but you don’t. You follow the rules. You know better.

He chuckles and places his hands on your thighs, keeping you open. “Smart girl, too, hm?” He dips down and presses a kiss to your knee that has you sighing. “Harry says touch your clit for me.”

You do, instantly, and it’s everything. Even the slightest brush of contact has you reeling and you whimper as your thumb sweeps across the sensitive nerves.

He watches you for only a moment—the way you circle and pinch, the way you gasp—before he’s jutting his chin up. “Harry says stop.”

You whine. Breathless. Needy. “Harry—”

“Stop,” he repeats firmly, eyes flicking to yours. You mewl dejectedly and pull your hand away. “There you go. See, you can behave when you want to, hm?”

You nod weakly.

“Good.” He’s smiling again—coy, evil—and kissing your inner thigh. “Harry says suck your fingers.”

You bring your slightly soaked digits toward your lips and you’ve never felt so enamored. Because he is sex and he’s nipping at your skin in a way that reminds you of how good his mouth is. And you love his mouth. And the way he tugs on your body as though tempting you with the idea of tasting you but never actually giving in. 

You suck and you moan and you make a show of it.

He hums. “Harry says give me your hand.”

You relinquish your trembling hand to him and he licks a long, slow stripe up your palm. All the way to your fingers while your eyes nearly roll back.

He hums again. “Always taste so good for me, Bee. You know that?”

You watch his lips. You don’t speak. And this is an evil game, a cruel game, and even if you win, you lose. But you don’t mind because he is your prize and that's all you've ever really wanted.

He drops your hand and returns his hold to your thighs. He smiles at you. “Harry says spread your pussy for me.”

With a strained inhale, you slip your fingers down and pull yourself open. His soft, warm breath fans across your dripping cunt and you whimper quietly. Desperate to weave your fingers through his curls and bring him closer.

And he knows you, knows what you really want, so he taunts you. Kisses up your thigh, over your hip, along the band of your underwear. Everywhere but where you need him most. 

He watches you soak the bed below and he’s so incredibly smug. “Harry says tell me what you want.”

“You,” you breathe instantly. “You, Daddy, please.”

The use of the nickname surprises him. You haven’t slipped into your subspace yet but you quite enjoy the way his expression grows dark at the use of the moniker. And, truth be told, you also happen to love the way it tastes to say. 

His eyebrow lifts and his hands curl tighter around your legs. “What do you want Daddy to do, Bee?”

You swallow. Thick. “Want you to fuck me. Please.”

His lips part. He’s mesmerized and wildly intrigued. And even if he knows you’re trying to cheat by using the more dominant nickname, he doesn’t seem to care. 

He stands up. “Daddy says lay down.”

Suppressing a grin, you slowly crawl back toward the pillows and settle onto the mattress. And he looks at you like he’s never seen anything so beautiful, so enticing. You imagine if this were a cartoon, he’d be drooling, and you don’t miss the twitch in his fingers as he attempts to resist chasing after you.

Instead, he’s deliberate. Practiced. Following you onto the duvet and hovering above you before nodding again.

“Daddy says take me out.”

You reach for his belt. Pulling it through each loop before tossing it toward the floor and continuing to his zipper. Once you have enough room, you slip into his briefs and find him. Hard, heavy, and leaking in your palm. You almost drool, too.

You take him out and your lashes flutter as you glance up at him. Looking for his approval which he gives you almost far too easily.

“Good girl,” he whispers. His voice is labored. Thick with lust. “Daddy says put me in.”

You bring him closer and run him up and down your pussy a time or two while you both shudder. And then, just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he slips in. And everything changes.

He curses and you gasp and the game is over. It doesn’t matter who won because this is why you play. For this feeling, this moment. This familiar and addictive stretch as he pushes in and sends you over the edge.

He puts a hand on your throat and his mouth finds yours. He kisses you—hard, hungry. Sloppy and rushed but full of love. He adores having power over you, but he loves you more. Getting to take you anyway he wants you.

He squeezes your delicate neck and your vision blurs around the edges in the most delicious of ways. He knows what you like and he knows that you’d gladly put your life in his hand any goddamn day of the week. So, he holds you, and he chokes you, and he waits until your gasps are shallow before loosening his grip ever-so-slightly.

“Shit,” he exhales before he’s pulling back and thrusting in. “God, you’re so tight today, lovie.”

You arch off the bed and reach for his back. Nails scraping down his spine while his dark shirt wrinkles beneath your hands. “Daddy, please—”

“I know.” He bites your neck. Pulls the skin between his teeth and laps at it with his tongue. “Fuck. I know, baby. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Poor little cockslut was just so empty while I was gone, hm?”

You nod fervently. You hate when he leaves, hate when his job takes him on trips away from you. And fucking yourself isn’t nearly as good as when he does it.

And he knows it.

“Say it,” he hisses. “Fucking tell me how good I feel.”

You reach for his ass and grip. “So good, Daddy. Needed you so bad.”

He nips at your earlobe and then returns to your mouth. The sound of his cock fucking into your pussy is loud, almost as loud as the sound of him sucking your tongue. And it almost ends you, right there.

He smells like vanilla and sex. A musky, familiar scent that seems to seep into your bloodstream and go straight to your clit.

You don’t imagine either one of you will last much longer, not after being away all this time. But you try, you do. You meet his thrusts as best you can and you kiss your name into his neck until he groans.

“So many things I wanna do to you,” he whispers and he’s gentler now. “God, Bee. You have no idea what I wanna do to you. All the things I imagined as I fucked my fist just thinking of you.”

“Tell me,” you whimper. “Tell me, please, Daddy—”

He curses again. “Want you to sit on my face until I can’t fucking breathe. Wanna taste you—gotta taste you, baby. Missed it so fucking much.” He reaches for your clit and you moan. “Wanna eat my cum out of your pretty pussy and I wanna make your thighs fucking shake.”

God. You tug on his curls and you’re so close. So fucking close.

“Then I wanna watch you bounce on my cock,” he says. His thrusts are harder now. Faster. Sharper. “Wanna bend you over and watch this pretty little ass shake for me.”

Your leg hooks around his hip and you whine his name.

“Wanna have you in the shower, in the kitchen, in the living room, in the car, against the window so they can all watch. Fucking everywhere.”

A strangled sound leaves your throat and you know he means it.

“Want you to fucking own me, Bee.” He slips his hand around the back of your neck and pulls on your roots. “Cause you do. You know that? You fucking own me. I’m yours. Always—”

“Harry,” you gasp.

“Show me you know that,” he hisses. He’s almost there. “Show me you fucking know that I belong to you—”

You come and when you do, everything changes. Lights are brighter, sounds are louder, life is sweeter. You see stars and you see him and you don’t need to see anything else ever again. 

He follows right after, unable to resist the way your pussy clenches around him as you come. He’s warm and it feels like heaven. You hold tight to his shoulders and you ride each other through. It’s not until you writhe away from the ministrations on your clit that he slows to a stop and drops his face to your neck.

“Fuck,” he exhales. You have to agree. “M’sorry. I tried to make it last longer, I swear—”

“No,” you whisper. You take his cheeks between your hands and lift his face to yours. “No, it’s okay. It was perfect, I promise.”

He sighs. “I know, but after all that time, I just…I wanted to do better—”

You shush him and nuzzle your nose against his. “Harry, it was perfect. Trust me. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Yeah?” 

You grin. “Yeah.” You kiss him. “That was quite a fun game.”

He laughs now and the sound is like magic. “You think so?”

“I do. Love it when you tell me what to do.”

He smiles again but you notice the devious expression returning. “Is that right, lovie?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He hums and it’s wicked. “Then maybe we should play another round, hm?”

Your stomach flips. You nod.

He smirks.

“Then Daddy says…on my fucking face.”

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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