#dom!harrystyles

"Harry," You whined, hips bucking against the air. "What the fuck?"

"We're going to wait, sweet girl." His voice was low, almost amused, as he pressed a kiss to your trembling thigh before rising from the bed.

"Harry," You whined in disbelief, propping yourself up on your elbows, watching his bare back disappear into the bathroom. "Where are you going?"

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, leaving you sprawled across the sheets, thighs still trembling. The faucet turned on and you heard him humming a song, asshole, as if he hadn’t just left you dripping and desperate. You dug your nails into the mattress, resisting the urge to slide your hand between your legs, even as your pulse throbbed there, aching.

The door creaked open again just enough for him to peek out, toothpaste foam smeared at the corners of his mouth. He pointed the toothbrush at you, sternly.

"And if you touch yourself," He said, voice muffled around the toothbrush, "I won’t let you cum. So be a good girl."

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the pillows, thighs pressed together in an attempt to relieve the throbbing between them. The sheets were damp beneath you, and you could feel the slickness of your own arousal coating your inner thighs.. Every breath you took was quick, and your fingers held on tighter to the fabric, to keep yourself from touching where you knew you couldn’t right now.

The water in the bathroom continued running, accompanied by the occasional spit of toothpaste into the sink. Your core ached, begging you to relieve it, so you slowly lowered your hand, at first only lightly brushing your cold fingers against your clit. You rubbed slow, featherlight circles around your swollen clit, just enough to send a jolt of pleasure up your spine but nowhere near enough to push you over the edge.

Then…..silence. The water shut off abruptly. Your fingers stopped instantly, heart hammering against your ribs as you waited for the creak of the bathroom door. But nothing came. Just Harry’s quiet chuckle from behind the door, like he knew, like he could fucking sense what you did across the room.

“Tsk tsk,” He murmured, voice dripping with a mock of disappointment.

You held your breath, fingers twitching where they hovered just above your clit…you were so close, so close.....but you forced yourself to pull away at the last second.

The water ran for another agonizing moment before shutting off. Silence. Then, the creak of the bathroom door swung open.

Harry walked back into the room, you didn’t dare look at him. The bed dipped as he climbed onto it, his fingers brushed yours, slow and deliberate, prying your clenched hand away from the sheets. Your pulse leapt into your throat.

"Did you touch yourself?" He asked, voice so gentle it made your stomach churn. The pad of his thumb stroked over your wrist. You could lie…you should lie.

"A little," You whispered. "J-just a little."

Harry’s lips curved into a smile, the kind that made your thighs press tighter together without meaning to. His grip on your wrist tightened just enough to keep you from squirming away as he lifted your fingers to his mouth. The first brush of his tongue against your fingertips sent a shockwave of heat straight to your core, his eyes never leaving yours as he dragged the flat of his tongue along the pads of your fingers, tasting the reminisce of arousal.

"Mmm," He hummed, closing his lips around your middle finger and sucking lightly. The vibration of his voice traveled straight to your clit, and you whimpered, hips jerking involuntarily. "Sweet girl," He murmured, releasing your finger with a soft pop. "Couldn’t even wait five minutes for me, could you?"

His palm pressed against your pussy with a rough, sudden pressure…not a slap, but the flatness of his hand grinding against you, the friction was brutal and perfect. You arched off the bed with a punched-out moan, thighs snapping shut around his wrist instinctively, but Harry didn’t pull away. Instead, he pressed harder, his fingers wide to drag your slickness in circles over your clit, the heel of his hand relentlessly digging into your sensitive folds.

“There you go.” Harry murmured, watching your face twist with overstimulated pleasure as his palm worked slowly. Your hips jerked up into the contact, chasing the pressure, but he adjusted the angle just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. “Fuck, look at you…so fucking pretty when you’re desperate.”

Harry’s palm stilled abruptly, his touch gentling as he smoothed the damp hair from your forehead.

"You okay?" He murmured, his voice sincere, wanting to make sure you were still okay with his antics. You managed a weak nod, your throat too tight to speak, and his lips curved into that slow, knowing smile.

"Don’t worry, honey," He whispered. "I’ll let you cum."

You heard the rattle of the nightstand drawer, the clatter of something plastic being knocked aside. Your breath hitched when his hand reappeared, a pink vibrator in hand. He clicked it on, letting it sit on the lowest setting.

Harry didn’t rush. He dragged the tip of the vibrator down your stomach, until it hovered just above your clit, but not close enough to relieve the ache. You whimpered, hips lifting instinctively, but he tutted, pressing his free hand flat against your abdomen to hold you down.

"Patience"

The vibrator skimmed over your clit so lightly you barely felt it, just a little teasing before Harry yanked it away.

Your breathing stopped for a moment, but he only smirked, quickly setting the vibrator to the highest setting, and placing it back on your clit. The violent buzz made you yelp, back arching as the vibrations punched through your oversensitive nerves.

Then, just as quickly, he dropped it back to low, which left you gasping, thighs shaking with the aftershocks.

"Harry," You begged, voice cracking, fingers scrabbling at the sheets. "Please...please, I want to cum...please."

Harry didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned back, watching you with a smile as he dragged the vibrator down the inside of your thigh.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” He admired, voice low and rough. The vibrator dipped between your thighs, the tip brushing against your soaked entrance for half a second before he pulled back, leaving you clenching around nothing.

The vibrator clicked off before Harry tossed it to the side. Your breath hitched, as his fingers replaced the plastic, slowly tracing your soaked folds. His fingers dipped inside you barely an inch, just enough to make your walls flutter around him, before exiting. Again. Again. He purposely avoided direct pressure on your g-spot, teasing but never giving you what you needed.

He was now fully leaning over you, his other hand feeling your body up, while his lips caressed your entire neck.

“Fuck,” He muttered, lips skimming up your neck. You clenched onto his bicep with one armand lightly bit down on the shoulder in front of you. “You wanna mark me up, sweet girl? Gonna make sure everyone knows who I belong to?”

You couldn’t answer him, your mind was too foggy, so you just let out another moan. Harry chuckled, low and rough, his lips trailing down to your pulse point.

"Okay, sweetheart. You've been so fucking good for me." He grabbed the vibrator he threw to the side. This time, he didn’t tease. "You can cum."

He continued to finger you, this time hitting your g-spot fast and hard, causing you to uncontrollably scream out and writhe in pleasure. The vibrator pressed against your clit on the highest setting, with a similar pressure.

“Harry…Harry, fuck-” Your voice cracked, back arching off the mattress as the pleasure surged through your veins. Your nails dug into his bicep, hard enough to leave indents in his skin, but he didn’t flinch. He just watched you with strong intent, as your body tensed and squirmed.

Your eyes stayed tightly shut as your orgasm ripped through you with a force that left your body aching. A high cry escaped from your throat. Your hips jerked uncontrollably, riding out the waves as warmth gushed between your thighs, soaking Harry’s fingers and the sheets beneath you. The vibrator against your clit sent aftershocks sparking through your nerves, dragging the pleasure out until it was borderline painful.

Your body sagged into the mattress, like you were all of a sudden boneless. The vibrator slipped from Harry’s grip, clattering onto the sheets as your thighs clamped shut instinctively, oversensitive and twitching. He gently removed his finger, letting your body adjust to the sudden emptiness.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry murmured, voice thick with awe. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your heaving sternum, then another just below your collarbone, easing you in the aftermath of your climax. “Look at you.” His palm smoothed over your stomach, grounding you as your breath evened out. “So fucking perfect. Took it so well, sweet girl.”

tag list—

@mema10 @lizsogolden @harrrrystylesslut

@tulips4harry @cloudyluun @dipmeinhoneyh

@tchlamqtsgf @maudie-duan @gilwm

Harry’s silent when he steps in, you can only tell he’s there by the bristling of his feet against the carpet. A subdued threat. His gaze cuts, tracing and cold as he follows the lines of your body. He’s checking your form, ‘tummy tucked, mhm, fingers straight, good, hold your head up, that's right’. You silently attune to every part of your body, his words echoing in the cavern of your mind. Once he told you not to think, so you try not to. 

He doesn’t greet you, he doesn’t have to. This is all purely routine by now. You feel the heat from his body when he comes to stand beside you and you revel, revel in the brief respite of warmth his presence brings. 

His index and thumb grip your cheeks, twisting you to look at him. It’s cold, a mechanical motion, still under his grip, the sight makes your muscles attempt to flex in a smile. His features are sharp, expectant, but still the epidote of his eyes hold a warmth– a fondness as he looks at you. 

“Open,” his voice is low, traces of sleep still laced in the timber. 

His grip loosens, the pads of his fingers denting in the plush flesh, just enough for your lips to part, for your tongue to roll out– flat, a presentation for him. He waits, patience is nothing more than a virtue to him. 

Spit pools, you want to swallow, but you don’t. ‘Hold it’, he’d once said. You let it fall, sticky rivulets from the corners of your mouth, the tip of your tongue. He nods, the closest you’ll get to a sign of approval. When the two of you had started this routine he used to praise as he went, but he likes the quiet, and praise– praise only brings way for distractions. 

Two straight fingers press to your tongue, there’s not warning when they knock against the back of your throat, unyielding. You feel the prick of tears behind your eyes, the urge to cough is strong but it is not an option. You focus on the taste of his skin and how the metal from his rings feels cold against your lips. 

You’re primed, ready, when he nods again– his cue for you to suck. He inches his fingers back, just enough for you to work with. You wrap your lips around his knuckles, tongue laving at the creases. Your teeth knock against his rings. Silver, gold and ruby kisses you back. 

He pulls them from your mouth, glistening– wet, dripping with your spit. 

“Up,” it’s a simple command, one that you follow on shaky legs. He watches, brows furrowed as you climb on the bed, eyes focused on your cunt as you part your thighs for him. You wish you could watch him, follow the contours of his body as he moves, but he told you once to look at the ceiling, so you do. 

Harry’s eyes focus on your cunt, puffy lips and weepy hole on full display only for him. You clench around nothing when you hear him step closer and that only fuels the pride he has welling in his chest. It’s only routine, but still his heart swells at your obedience.

There is no warning when his fingers touch you, spreading your lips apart. Open, an exhibit with admission for one. The cool air makes you shiver when he pulls back the hood of your clit, your muscles tensing beneath his touch. The only sound, a breathy air of approval from Harry. 

You’re soaked when his first finger presses in, slipping with ease into your wet heat. He prods, finger curling into that spongy spot that makes your toes curl. You press your lips together, seeling back the moan that wants to escape when he adds a second finger– same story. He wipes your wetness– slick, on the inside of your thigh. 

He taps your hip once, your next cue. You flip over, hands and knees, arms sprawled before you. The opalescent gemstone sits snug between your cheeks, catching the dusky hue of the room– glittering, a prize. 

His fingers slip under the flare, tugging. He pulls it halfway out, accustomed to its former position you feel the stretch in your toes. Your pulse is in your throat, hammering, slipping down your ribcage like a mallet. Your teeth grit, bone on bone. You breathe through it– in and out. Harry twists the plug, pulling– toying. You are his toy afterall. 

He pushes it back in, metal biting at your warm skin. “Exemplary marks.” He concludes, voice echoing in the quiet of the room like a lecture hall. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, emotions flood: pride, confidence, dignity. He's never failed you, but still you feel like a kid in school yearning for their teacher's approval. 

Inspections over, but he’s not done with you– yet. 

His hand presses to your bum, stabilizing, the touch almost feels domestic. The teeth of his zipper grind, a runway for what’s next. You keep breathing, in and out, in and out– steady– rhythmic.

His knees dent the bed beside yours while his cock sits heavy in his hand. He spits, warm and goey– viscid, it drips down from your ass. There are no frills, as the crown of him nudges you open, parting– blunt. His hips snap before you can register it. He fills you, full– fuller– fullest. You whine, it’s permissible now. 

He cudgels at your ache, the one that’s deep. The snapping of his hips a kindling for the embers in the hearth of your tummy. Glowy, warm, it runs deep in your veins. 

Harry lets himself soak you in now, you were so good for him afterall. His hands are grabby, they dig in your flesh. The pads of his fingers bite at your skin, dimpling you with bruises that show his love. 

Because he does love you, he loves you enough to dip his toes into the murky and complex pools of power and submission. Enough to trust you with his fantasies and vice versa. Enough to know that the both of you will always be safe when it comes to how the two of you play.

“So– fucking– good–”, he grunts, teeth bared, primal. “Always take me– so– fucking– good.” His voice swarms in your head, syrupy, treacly, sweet like honey in your veins. 

Every grunt that claws at his throat, slithering into the air around you– intrinsic unrestrained approval– sinks into your skin. Your body hums, a buzzing in your nerves. You can feel the force of his thrusts in your fingertips. 

His hand comes down on your ass, a crack in the symphony of the orchestra your bodies create. “Fuck,” you seethe through clenched teeth. It’s fire– fire in your bones. Marrow alight in his ministries, it crackles. 

He can feel you clenching, siphoning him in. Your body a siren call, wanting– needing in the night. “Y’gonna cum for me?” He grunts, even though he already knows the answer. 

You want to scream yes! As the pleasure is rolling, licking at your frame. All consumed, you whine instead. 

“Better ask permission,” it’s not a suggestion coming from Harry, it’s a command. 

You beg, desperate, the pitch of your voice one only heard when the two of you are like this, “Please– please– please.” 

“Go on then, don’t be so whiny ‘bout it,” he gibes, his own thrusts beginning to grow sloppy– worn out. 

And you do, it’s hard not to when he’s been ramming into you the way he has– a perfect blunt force. The hearth spills over. Hot and ablaze it coils through the frame of your body, the flames licking at your every fiber, wrapping around the timber of your soul. Consuming. 

Haphazardly he chases, following close behind. It’s wet, sticky where you’re joined, You’re attuned to the noises shared between you, gushing and vulgar. It brings a new bloom of heat as he pumps you full, filling you in a different fashion. 

His chest is hot on your back as he falls forward, sweaty and spent. He kisses your shoulder blade– tepid. “Exempilary marks, as always,” he accolades, his chest vibrating with a murmur of laughter. 

♡ ♡ ♡

You took a deep breath, feeling both excitement and a hint of pain as Harry began to work. The buzzing of the needle grew louder as it pierced your skin, creating the outline of the word 'kitten'. You couldn't help but whimper a little, but Harry's gentle strokes and soothing words kept you grounded. After every wipe away of ink, he would place a kiss on your other cheek, you both laughed at first, but the gesture made your heavy breathing softer.

As the minutes ticked by, the adrenaline of the spontaneous decision started to wear off, and the exhaustion from the long day began to set in. You felt your eyelids growing heavier, your body succumbing to the comfort of Harry's touch and the rhythmic buzz of the tattoo gun. "You okay, kitten?" he checked in, his voice a gentle rumble in the quiet room. You nodded with your eyes still closed. "You're doing so well. Just a little more, then we'll be done." he cooed.

With a few more precise movements, Harry finished up the shading on the 'N' in 'kitten'. He rolled his chair back to admire his work, his eyes filled with satisfaction as her looked at your ass, now marked by him. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he leaned in and placed a tender kiss just below the fresh ink. "So beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

He stood up, and you felt his hands slip your dress to gently lift it up your back, leaving it bunched up just under your shoulders. Harry's gaze never left yours in the mirror, and you watched as his pupils dilated with desire. The air grew thick with anticipation as he took a step closer, his tattooed hand sliding around to cup your cheek and turning your face towards him. "You're so beautiful, baby," he whispered before capturing your mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. His tongue danced with yours while his other hand trailed down your spine to rest on the small of your back.

With a low growl, Harry's demeanor shifted from gentle to dominating. He gripped your hip, his hand moving to pull down your thong. He stepped back, admiring the view of your now bare ass with the new ink.

"Spread your legs for me, but stay laying on your tummy." he ordered, his voice firm yet tender. You complied immediately, feeling a rush of vulnerability as you exposed yourself to him. He stepped closer, his hand moving to cup your wet core before his thumb began to circle your clit with expert precision. "Look at how eager you are, baby." He leaned in and spat on your pussy, the warmth of his saliva making you gasp.

With a predatory grace, Harry aligned his hardened length with your entrance and pushed in without hesitation. You moaned into the bench pillow as he filled you up completely. His grip tightened on your hip, guiding his thrusts deep and slow. Each time he pulled out, you felt the stickiness of his spit mingling with your arousal, heightening the sensation of his thrusts.

"Daddy," you whimpered, your voice muffled by the leather. Harry's response was a low, animalistic grunt, his pace increasing as he claimed you with every powerful stroke. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back as his other hand snaked up to play with your nipples, pinching and rolling them until they were hard peaks of pleasure.

His hand moved back to your ass, his thumb tracing the fresh ink as he fucked you, marking his territory with every thrust.

"Are you Daddy's good girl?"

You nodded, your voice trembling as you murmured, "'m Daddy's good girl." The words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, the kink of the scene only adding to the intensity of your arousal.

The smell of ink and sex filled the air as Harry's grip on your hips tightened. He leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning against your neck as he whispered dirty, degrading things in your ear, pushing you further into your submissive role. "You like it when Daddy's rough with you, don't you? You like being my slut?" he groaned. You could only nod, as he picked up the pace, pounding into you with a fierce need that made the bench shake.

With every thrust, Harry's spit-slicked thumb circled your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. "Come for me, baby," he urged, his voice thick with desire. You felt your body tighten, the pleasure building until it was too much to handle. You let out a muffled scream as your climax hit, your muscles clenching around his cock, sending him over the edge as well.

With a final, powerful thrust, Harry pulled out, his cock glistening with your arousal. He reached down and painted your un-inked ass cheek with his cum, leaving a sticky, hot trail across your skin. "So perfect," he murmured, his eyes never leaving the mess he'd made.

Harry grabbed his phone from the nearby counter. He snapped a picture, capturing the moment with a sense of ownership and pride. The image was a stark contrast: the delicate 'kitten' tattoo on one side, his hot, white cum on the other. You felt a thrill at the thought of the photo, the evidence of his claim on you, his brand of love and dominance.

Harry took a paper towel and gently wiped the warm cum from your ass. His touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the raw passion that had just consumed both of you. He threw the towel away and reached out to stroke your hair, his hand moving in slow, calming motions that made you melt into the bench. "Did a good job for me, baby," he murmured, his voice soothing as he praised you for your obedience and the pleasure you had brought him.

Despite the tenderness, his grip on your hair was firm, reminding you of your place. "You're so beautiful, kitten," he said, his thumb tracing the line of your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "And now, you have a permanent reminder of who you belong to."