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fleuraimer · 5 months

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hi girlies :)). i've got another breeding blurby to share, thank ms. bubbles @harrysonlylover.

wc: 1.6k

cw: talk of menstrual and ovulation cycle, smut, minors dni, 17+, breeding kink, and more. not proofread.

Some people might say that the extent of his knowledge and control over Y/N’s life is not healthy. They might even suggest that his possessive behavior is a red flag, too. The constant messaging, always knowing her location, who she’s with, when she’s with them, why, how…

They didn’t tend to think of it that way. Love comes in all forms and theirs is… different.

Y/N likes being controlled. She wants him to know everything about her. She fucking craves the comfort of being taken care of for the price of absolutely nothing.

Well, maybe a few things.

Her obedience, for one, was expected (required). Her honesty, and loyalty. Her submission, too (although, sometimes, he liked to submit to her).

They’d found a simple way of living on some inherit, basic principles.

One, Y/N loved to be taken care of.

Two, he loved to take care of her.

So that was that. He was controlling, and she reveled in the power imbalance, and they didn’t care if others didn’t understand it, or like it, or even respect it. It was theirs, and it was enough.

It was fucking perfect.

One of the many ways he kept a tight leash on Y/N’s life was by tracking her menstrual cycle. He liked being ahead of the game—warm bath with waterlily scented suds ready for when she arrived home after her courses, her favorite sweet treats scattered across the kitchen island, Gilmore Girls queued up on his laptop, candles lit and heating pad at attention. Keeping track of her period meant knowing other things, intuitively, too. Like knowing that her cramps were worst on the first few days ( they were horrendous the last days too, though), that she’s more cuddly and soft than irritable or grumpy, that if she was too— no, severely stressed, overworking herself mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d more likely than not work herself into a dreadful tizzy and end up intensifying (or even sometimes missing) her cycle.

Like now.

The poor thing, she was curled up in a frail little ball by end of the night every day this past week, deadlines looming over her head like a dark, rainy cloud as midterms approach. And, stubborn angel girl she is, she doesn’t bleat and moan about it to him. She doesn’t weep into his chest about how difficult this time is the way he encourages her to. She holds her chin high until the sun falls from the sky, her perseverance going with it, the stars and moon left to keep her and her misery company. And him, of course.

So, before the height of her period—when the red devil actually rears her ugly little head instead of inspiring trepidation of the inevitable with sore tits, an achy spine, and mental anguish—he thinks he’ll treat her a bit. And perhaps himself, as well (what? periods meant ovulating, and ovulating meant a lot of things).

———

Y/N’s head is quiet for the first time in days, and it’s all because of him.

As if anyone else could do what he does for her.

“Pretty girl,” he whispers in the place he’s nuzzled into her neck, littered with love bites and bruises. His cock is stuffed in her drippy pussy, stretching her deliciously over his thick, lengthy girth; his strong, beefy arms trapping her body to his like a vice.

Cowgirl usually makes Y/N’s thighs sore, but he’d taken the liberty of doing all the work tonight. He was in no mood for teasing, nor mocking or degrading. She wasn’t his whore tonight, just his girl. His soft, gorgeous, sensitive girl that deserved a sweet fucking after all the tears she’d choked down this week.

She needed a good cry.

“My little pillow princess, Yeah?” He mumbles, peaking up at her sluggish form. She’s slumped into him, head lain on his shoulder uselessly, hands gripping the tight Henley he’d neglected to rid himself of in the rush of their lustrous dance. She manages a nod, however, lazy and slow, but, somehow, still urgent. Frantic. In the glow of her eye, he can see, she adores that idea. “Yeah,” He nods, gripping the soft curve of her jaw to move her head with him, “My girl.”

She whimpers, but doesn’t speak. Too exhausted, too sedated. His cum is addicting, and if it were a drug, she’d inject it right into her veins (up her cunt).

Her arms wind around his neck, fingers spreading through the curly, sweaty tendrils of hair at the nape. Her nails tickle him, in the best way, only adding to the allure of her being. Of her mere presence.

Her hips swivel, rocking against his to create a mind-numbing sensation that has them both mewling. His cock stretches her out and fills her up completely, felt in the deepness of her tummy. Her lashes flutter when she feels him twitch inside of her, a sign that he’s close (she’d realize that she’s much closer if she had the brain capacity to think of anything other than him).

The thought—of his cum filling her to the point of spilling around their joined parts, a filthy mess between their legs—makes her dizzy. Eager. She’d been good, so good, this week, hadn’t she?

Fed herself, cleaned herself, went to class on time, even though school made her unpleasantly weak in the knees. She studied every day for at least three hours at the library, before trudging home with bleary eyes and a foggy head, only to do more studying.

She deserved a treat, right? A reward for staying in line, for not being bratty or whiny when he was busy and all she wanted was for her brain to shut off.

Now, with the opportunity before her (to go totally brain-dead, that is), she refuses to not seize the moment.

“Come,” she says suddenly, catching him mildly off guard.

Oh? She wanted to order him around?

“Please.”

Oh. Guess not.

“Please, please, come, Sir, I want it, so fucking bad,” she whines, mouthing at the chain sitting delicately across his neck. It’s nearly out of place; something so frail and pretty looks almost comical gracing his large, stocky figure. Perhaps that’s how those judgy people saw them, out of place.

She didn’t care though, she thought it looked nice on him. He made it look nice. Made it better, just like he makes everything better.

“Wan’ me t’a stuff you up, Babydoll?” he grunts, thankful that she’d somehow picked up on his primitive, feral need. Or maybe she just wanted it just as bad. “Fill you with my come and make you m’messy girl?”

“Yes, please,” she cries faintly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, hiding her face in his neck as the tears finally start to flow.

How precious.

“Okay,” he sighs, his hands trailing from her hips to the plush, full of her ass. “I’ll fill y’up, Sugar.” He lifts her up, letting his cock slip from her fluttering hole to the tip— less than the tip. He smears himself onto her clit, making her jolt, and spanks her in reprimand. “Stay still for Daddy,” he scolds softly. “Lemme do my job.”

She cries pitifully when her thrusts back inside, hard. And he doesn’t lighten up. Not in the slightest. He pounds his cock into her small pussy, chasing his orgasm, trying to claim hers, bullying his way through her tight snatch to find them.

“Play with your pouty clit, Doll,” he offers. “Wan’ y’to come with me; cream my fat cock, Baby.”

Y/N does not need to be told twice.

One hand drops from the back of his head to toy with her swollen button, and it takes three weak twirls of her delicate fingers to get her there. He’s not far behind, nuzzling into her neck once more, mirroring her own position on top of him, groaning out profanities as his orgasm washes over him, from his head to the tips of his toes. He continues to drill his cock into her until his legs give out, trembling beneath her own.

They pant heavily, in unison, into each others necks as they start to come down.

He feels good, accomplished. He can feel that satisfaction rolling off of his girl in waves—felt it throughout their soft session—and it was more than enough to keep him happy. His orgasm was just a much appreciated bonus.

And Y/N… she feels great. Cunt clenching over his half-hard cock, full of him, literally, in every way she could be. Thoughts silenced and replaced with rose hued daydreams, floaty, fuzzy sensations that tingle through her entire body and make her slightly sluggish, slow. She feels fucking amazing.

“Hope it takes…” she admits softly, absently. The phrase slips off of her tongue without thought (we’ve established that their are none left in that subby head of hers), and her tone suggests she’s not expecting a reaction.

He gives her one, anyway.

“Say that again,” he demands, grip on her ass tightening, his voice grumbly, deep, shooting a shiver up her spine.

“Huh?”

“Tell Daddy what the fuck you just said, Babydoll.”

Her eyes round out even more, if possible, lips parted, gazing owlishly. Stupidly.

“Said, ‘I hope it takes,’ Daddy,” She whimpers quietly, squeezing around his, once again, stiff prick.

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes fluttering.

It’s like she wanted to stay locked on his cock all night.

…Oh well.

So be it.

“It’ll take, Sugar,” he says after a few moments of tense silence, shifting her up gently, manhandling her with a softness that makes her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, sweet. Contradictory.

“Daddy’ll make it take.”

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austenwazright · 6 months

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Taylor be like "you're such a slut but I'd be a slut for you, yk you're worth shit but man you're such a gentleman, so yeah I hate u, u let me leave but god knows you're too polite to do it, ur new girl looks exactly like me guess I'll go jump of a building now" and I'm totally here for it

#taylor swift #1989 taylor's version #1989 tv #taylor swift 1989 #1989 #harry styles #haylor

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baby-girl-aaron-dessner · 6 months

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“Everyone wants him, that was my crime” hurts a lot because I remember how horribly people treated her while they were together.

#slut!#taylor swift #taylorswift #ts #1989 #1989 taylor's version #1989 tv #harry styles #haylor #now that we don’t talk #is it over now?

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finelinevogue · 3 months

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the eras

summary - harry is the best boyfriend ever and not just because he has taylor swifts number

pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader

word count - ~1k

.’•*,.’>*,~<\*•,.-:’•.~_,*^;-.•*

“Hey babe.” You answered the phone whilst you wandered down the bakery aisle at Tescos.

Friday night was always grocery shopping night. The end of a week, beginning the weekend a fresh.

“Hey.” Harry answered.

“You okay? Need anything?”

“No, uh, you put cereal bars on the list right?”

“Yeah. I got ‘em. Where are you?”

“I’m just leaving Gem’s now. I’ll be home just before you I think.” He coughed out.

“Okay.” You said reaching for a loaf of whole grain bread, because Harry doesn’t care for white bread and you refuse to eat bread with seeds in.

“Need to ask y’something though.” He cleared his throat, which got you listening carefully.

“Right…”

You walked down the crockery aisle, because you cannot help yourself when it comes to an eclectic mug collection. You see a new, cool, mug? You buy it. There’s no other option.

As you pondered over whether any of the mugs took your fancy, Harry continued talking.

“So I spoke to someone today.”

“Uh… Congratulations?” You laughed out nervously, making a joke in a weird situation.

“You wanna know who?”

“Well, obviously.”

“Taylor.”

No second name was needed.

It was obvious who he meant.

You stopped reaching for a mug and instead stood still. You couldn’t move for a brief second, until you remembered you were in public and thought that being a statue might be a bit odd.

You placed the basket filled with groceries on the floor and pushed your hand back through your hair to ground you.

“Okay.”

“And she’s offered me - us - something.”

“Am I going to to get jealous? ‘Cause you know how much of a power couple you two made.” You giggled nervously.

“There’s too much to unpack there for a phone conversation, but no you won’t get jealous. Well, I mean, maybe you will I don’t really know what goes on in your head someti–”

“Harry!” You paused him.

“Taylor’s given us free Era’s tour tickets.”

You gasped a little bit.

Well, a lot. So much so that the people around you stopped to watch you, thinking something was wrong with the aisle or the mugs.

“Fuck off.” You cupped your hand over your mouth.

“Yeah, for London. Said we can come to all of them, or just one and whichever date.”

“No, babe, stop. You’re fucking lying.” Your eye’s watered.

Harry knew how much of a Swiftie you were. Like BIG time. You’d been a fan for a very long time. Through all the hate and all the drama, you had been there. Harry was even saved in your phone as ‘Taylor’s Ex’ as a period of time - as a healthy joke between the two of you.

You had a TikTok that was dedicated to being a fan, but it was mostly filled with you reacting to Taylor content or filming a series of videos where you rated Harry’s outfits - even though you’re with him when he’s getting dressed in a morning.

To not only get to go to the Eras tour, but to be invited by Taylor herself… Well. World ended.

“No, it’s real. Promise.” Harry laughed to himself, imagining you right now.

A few tears ran down your cheeks.

“Fuck. This is so embarrassing.” You laughed, wiping your nose and sniffling. “I’m literally crying on the mugs aisle.”

“Y/N, baby, we don’t need anymore mugs!” Harry laughed more.

“Shut up, yes we do. Wait. Is this real?”

“It is, my love. You’re going to the Eras tour.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles boyfriend fic #harry styles eras #harry styles taylor swift

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twobluejeans · 10 months

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HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 1: don’t start, part 2: wtf does ET know?

faceclaim: varies but for rn madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: heavily inspired by taylor swift and joe alwyn’s breakup bc im still in mourning. a lot of tswift references 🫶

liked by italyrry, parisy/n, and 83,783 others

y/nflorals Y/N GETTING EMOTIONAL DURING THE 1 LAST NIGHT IN GLASGLOW! via loveonshow

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user4 okay but the fit fire

sweetnothingy/n my show my song ❤️‍🩹

user5 man she even looks pretty when she cries this is not fair bruh

back2decemberl/n this was a religious experience. i nearly died

loveontourhs FRANCE GOT ROBBED.

dontblamemey/n SHE REPLACED INVISIBLE STRING WITH THE 1?? ARE YOU SHITTING ME?

leclercy/n @dontblamemeleclerc i’m gonna kms

liked by haileybieber, norizzland0, and 122,728 others

enews photos caught of ‘lover’ singer #y/nl/n and #charlesleclerc fighting outside a restaurant in london tonight. click link in bio for more info on the it couple’s nasty choice of words.

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arianagrande take this down immediately. please respect people’s privacy for once oml

chary/n @arianagrande ARIANA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE??

devil_leclerc this was not the family reunion i was expecting 💀

badbloody/n this feels so invasive and wrong on so many levels

trishapaytasnotreal oh this looks nasty, poor bby 🙁

liked by lewishammi,midnightrainy/n, and 608 others

lordpercevalupdates i don’t wanna scare anyone even more but…

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user1 girl what

y/nmybeloved “i think i’ve seen this film before…”

charles.y/n @y/nmybeloved don’t even.

allmychampagney/n fell to my knees at walmart

ally’s radio 📻: i swear this gets better 😭 pls im a star 🙏

planning on making this a multi-series so i if u want a tag, pls lmk!! 💋.

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becauseheartsgetbroken-hs · 1 month

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their love language is touch 🥹

#they're so cute #harry styles #taylor russell

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hapinesbuterfiy · 2 months

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. ୨🪩୧ ₊˚ 🍒 ʚ ♡ ˚ 🎀 +

lets talk about rafe x fangirl!reader...

you love being a fangirl and all of the late release nights, hundreds of dollars spent in merch and concert tickets, and the constant hours of waiting in ticketmaster queues that came with it. having an insanely rich and obsessive boyfriend who would spend millions to make you happy had it's perks!

it took rafe a while to get used to your antics, never did he ever think he would be waking up at 2am to queue for a concert, but who else would be accompanying his girl? certainly not anyone else, he wouldn't have it. at first, he attempted to persuade you to buy actual seats instead of pit tickets with the "proactive person" approach. "are you fuckin' crazy? you're meanin' to tell me that you would rather sleep on the filthy fuckin' streets outside the venue waiting for hours when i could just buy you an entire box of seats? you're fuckin' insane." he stomps around your bedroom while standing above you, unable to fathom the lengths that you're willing to go to for a good view at a show. "rafe it's not the same you just don't get it! i need to be at the barricade there is literally no point in going if lana del rey can't watch me sob in front of her while singing pretty when you cry." he rolls his eyes at your remark, shaking his head in disbelief while sucking in his bottom lip. "yea—yea fuckin' barricade my ass, you shithead. lucky i wouldn't fuckin' make you go alone." you perk up, kissing his cheek in excitement. "thank you!" you've got him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

you're passionate, to say the least! why would you spent countless nights sobbing to grainy eras tour live streams after taylor swift plays your favorite songs without you there alone when you could be doing it with rafe by your side? he thinks you're insane for crying over a song, giving you his best fake sympathy act each time it happens, which is practically every time she has a concert because her entire discography is yours. you try your best to make out words through your sniffles and sobs, "i hate taylor swift so much. why would she bring gracie abrams out to play i miss you i'm sorry without me there?" you continue to choke on your sobs and manage to pull yourself even close into his chest. "she's so mean i hate her rafe." he tries his best to console you but can't help but laugh at your disheveled state and the snot coming out of your nose over a song, he is rafe, after all. "baby— i don't know what to tell you. maybe she'll like play it again when you see her, i don't fuckin' know." he wipes your face with his thumbs, as he continues to laugh at you reaching out for his phone to take a video of you so he can make fun of you later for it.

you practically control the aux cord in his jeep, as his girlfriend it's basically your job to make sure he has good music taste! plus the same future songs that he plays over and over again are starting to become unbearable. "so this is thank u, next, it's literally ariana's best single like i swear i would not be the same person without this song it's so me core." he parts his lips in frustration, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "the fuck do you mean that's so me core? are you tryin' to say somethin' here?" he tries to pretend that he isn't enjoying it but you can hear him mumble "thank u, next m' im so fuckin' grateful for my ex." your eyes light up as you land a playful slap to his shoulder "see i told you it was a good song, you're too stubborn!" he completely disregards you, turning the volume up even higher so that you stop chirping in his ear.

you're a handful and a tad bit loud, but rafe secretly enjoys putting with your shit. you're his princess and if that meant he had to book an entire trip to italy just so you could go see harry styles for the last show on love on tour just to make you happy, he would be doing so!