KINKTOBER WEEK 1: Scent Kink (Patreon)

HIIIIIII!!! :D The first kink is a scent kink! So, warning: he's getting all up in your neck, pits, cookie, all the things, just in case you aren't interested in that! Also, some mentions of panty stealing!!

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT :D I LOVE DOING KINKTOBER. IT'S SO FUN BC IT MAKES ME EXPLORE THINGS I DON'T USUALLY GET TO/THINK TO SO I HOPE IT OPENS YOU UP TO SOME THINGS YOU MIGHT HAVE NOT THOUGHT YOU'D BE INTO!!

okay friends!! Let me know how you like it!! Just Harry being obsessed with you and your natural scent hehe! If you guys like this, then I can do a Y/N version too at some point since there were a couple of people who wanted y/n to be the one with the kink!

(3.6k+ words)

i.

Y/N can’t help but believe that she’s been set up. 

She doesn’t work out. Okay, well, she does, but not often because she sort of hates it – like a brisk walk on the treadmill is alright, but anything beyond that, she’s sore and cranky the rest of the day. So she avoids it; the only time she really goes is when Harry invites her to watch him work out. And that’s never really the offer; he just says that he’s going to the gym and inquires if she wants to come and sit pretty on the bench press so he has something to look at instead of other sweaty men and women. 

Yet somehow she got suckered into actually working out today. Harry inquired if she wanted to go that morning with him, and Y/N had already agreed before he added in, “And maybe we can work out together this time?” With a smile that was soft and a little tender, Y/N is a good girlfriend, sure, but she still groans and makes a distressed sound in her throat. 

“Ugh, what? Why?” She whined, flattening herself on top of him in her best attempt to cosplay a weighted blanket for him – Harry loves it when she does this, though she usually is trying to do it to be annoying, “Let me just gawk at your big tits when you do that one machine.” 

“I think you’re looking for the word ‘chest press’, baby,” he only corrects that because he’d long since accepted that his chest was his tits and that’s that. His face is pressed against the side of her head, breathing in slowly and deeply before he continues, “I just think it could be fun. You’re really cute when you’re trying to figure things out, and I can pretend to be your hot, sexy trainer.” 

Y/N groaned, face buried in his throat. “You hate me,” she grumbled with a small shudder, his hand dragging up her back, digging his thumb between her shoulder blades, “You just want to make fun of me.” 

“Whaaat, me? Neverrr,” he chuckled when she raised her hand to hit him, but he caught her wrist, sliding their fingers between each other and squeezing her hand, “It’ll be fun, baby. I’ll give your back light tickles tonight if you go.” Y/N huffed, “And I’ll watch a scary movie with you tonight without whining.” 

Y/N picked her head up, “. . .and I pick what’s for dinner.” 

“Of course,” Harry agreed easily, “Always.” 

“Alright, fine,” she started to push up from his chest, “Let me shower and then we can –” 

“Wait!” Harry’s hands gripped her waist, tight enough to make her stop even before he’d opened his mouth. Y/N paused, brows knitted as she waited for him to continue. She straddled him, her weight on his hips instead of distributed across his torso. “Don’t shower; that – you’re g’na sweat anyway, so you might as well just wait.” 

Y/N pouted her mouth a little. “I feel like I stink, though.” 

“You don’t,” Harry assured her, “You’ll thank me later, ‘cos you’ll really want a shower after sweating, baby. Might as well save a little water and avoid taking two.” 

Y/N couldn’t really take Harry’s word for it when he said she didn’t smell, because he never really thinks she smells. Harry is always into huffing her, whether she had been rolling around in bed all day, or she just got home from work. Y/N thought he might just like the smell of her lotion or perfume, but one time she walked in on him sniffing her panties from where she’d left them on the floor (he had been very embarrassed and promised not to do it again, but Y/N told him she didn’t care if he did – she hadn’t caught him since, but her hamper does sometimes look dug through – she doesn’t question him about it). 

But he was right. Y/N wasn’t going to be in the mood to take two showers in the span of what, 1-2 hours? It’d be smarter just to wait and shower until after. 

So she goes to the gym with him. Y/N doesn’t go often, so she doesn’t have any cute outfits for it, so she’s just in a big shirt that she usually sleeps in and a pair of shorts that should have been retired long ago (the drawstring is frayed and barely ties anymore, but until there is a huge hole somewhere or Harry throws them away behind her back, she’s keeping them). Harry guides her through some stretches that would help loosen her up, but she thinks it's just an excuse to have his hand all over her body, pressing her lower back to get her lower, pulling her arm behind her back, things like that. 

He lets her do some stuff she’s used to, like the StairMaster, but he picks the settings for her that are supposed to work whatever muscles in her glutes and thighs. He sets a timer, goes to do his own shit, and then comes back once it goes off – it had been long enough that she was about to throw in the towel, but Harry encourages her. Tells her how good she did, kisses her shoulder softly, then guides her to more weight-oriented machines. So she’s sitting down with her knees practically to her chest, either foot against a platform, and pushing against them to lift however much weight Harry had stacked on for her. 

Y/N is whiny during most of it, but she suspected that’s what Harry wanted. He likes when she’s bratty and complaining, and there’s no better way to get that than to make her do things that she knew were beneficial for her, but she had no interest in. Harry makes her do a lot of leg things today, which – she doesn’t know why, and she doesn’t question him. Just fusses and grumbles about how mean he is and how he’s trying to break her legs. Harry giggles the whole time, kisses her forehead while she’s bicycling, and Y/N doesn’t really think anything of it. She finally calls it quits after he has her doing some other random leg exercise, and Y/N begs him to just let her watch him be sexy and hot, working his chest out or something. 

He does eventually, and Y/N drinks from her water bottle, sitting on the floor on the stretching mats while he does his own workout. But Harry doesn’t do his full routine the way he usually does. Honestly, it looks like he’s rushing through most of it, which makes Y/N furrow her brows. What the hell? It’s like he invited her to work out with him just to make her work out. Does she need to be offended by this? 

Y/N goes to ask Harry about when he comes over to her, holding his hands out for her to grab, and tugs her up from the floor. She stumbles against him, gasping when her face thuds against his chest, and Harry wraps his arms around her. Harry snuggles his face into her throat and takes a sharp inhale that makes her pause before she starts accusing him of anything. 

“Harry,” she whined, “I smell –” 

“Great,” he finished for her, petting her hair down before pulling away, looking at her with his pupils blown and that distinctly horny look that’s not even sort of hidden on his face. This close, she can feel where he’s starting to sport a semi, and she looks between them. This isn’t out of the ordinary, necessarily – apparently this is normal for guys to get a little harder while they work out, something about testosterone and endorphins, something, something – but this is less of a random stiffy, it seems. “You smell so fucking good.” 

Oh! 

Oh, alright, she gets it now. This would be the first time since she caught him sniffing her panties that he’s convinced her to work out with him. And now he’s huffing her like she’s a new perfume – so she does think that she’s been set up to some degree. Not that she minds; actually, she likes when Harry gets a little weird and freaky – she would’ve played into it a little more if she’d known what was going on, but they can discuss that later. Y/N wants to see where this goes without saying much of anything – how far Harry will take it. Would he just leave it here and have a little jerk in the bathroom? Would he wait until she left her panties on the floor of the bathroom and come grab them? Wait – does he ever jerk off with her panties? Hm. Y/N guesses she’d like to know more about all of it, but she never wants to quiz him because of how embarrassed he got before. She doesn’t want him to feel ashamed; she’s just interested. 

But she thinks if she offered to let him, like... sniff her after working out, he’d like it. Well, probably, she isn’t sure. It’s a little nerve-racking to ask without knowing for sure if that’s what he is really into, or if it’s just a panties thing for him. But with how often he’s pressed his face against her and breathed in when she was at her least scrubbed down and polished, she just had to wonder if he was into more than just her panties. Like, a lot of guys would probably sniff panties, right? However, Y/N thinks that much fewer would have their nose practically stuffed between her bicep and ribs to breathe in deeply. And she doesn’t know how many would stuff their head beneath her sleep shirt and stay there for at least ten minutes in the morning. And he’s sort of got a thing with her feet that he’s never explained, but once or twice he kissed the bottom of her foot while he was fucking her missionary, holding her leg up by the ankle. Y/N doesn’t know if that has anything to do with it, but she thinks it might have something to do with something. 

Niall always jokes that Harry’s obsessed with her – how one time he looked over his shoulder and Harry was just scrolling through her Instagram with heart eyes, nibbling at the side of his thumb. Y/N just thinks he’s soft on her, but this. . .this could maybe convince her a little. Especially when, on the way home from the gym, he’s holding her hand and pressing her knuckles against his lips, sometimes kissing, sometimes just holding them there. When they’re stopped at the stoplights, he rubs and nuzzles at the back of her hand. 

So, when they made it home – Y/N waited until they made it into their room, where she should be stripping for the shower, and Harry definitely had no reason to tail after her, but he did. 

“Um, Harry?” She began, and Harry tilted his head, humming softly, encouraging her to continue, “Do you want to sniff me?” 

Harry pauses and so does Y/N. There probably was a better way to ask, but it was beyond her at this point – she’d already asked him. If she was totally wrong about this, then she could laugh it off, with a hot face, and make Harry promise to never bring it up again. But the face he’s making doesn’t suggest that she’s completely off the mark. It’s not a confused look – it’s a nervous one. A shocked one; a “wait, did I say something out loud that would make her think that?” kind of face. Y/N’s heart is racing, so she’s sure his is too, maybe twice as fast. 

“I. . .” he trails off, his eyes darting around her body, then back to her face, “That. . .it wouldn’t weird you out?” 

Y/N shakes her head, “Why would I offer if it weirded me out?” She inquires, “You were going to take my panties while I showered, weren’t you?” 

If Harry was red before, then his face turns scarlet now. “No!” He exclaimed, a little loud, enough to make her jump, “No – I – uh, I just – I only do that when you aren’t home.” 

A giggle erupts from her chest. “Okay, well that’s fine,” she starts to pull her top off, dropping it onto the ground. Beneath it, she’d worn a cheap, old sports bra that she only broke out once every blue moon, and she takes that off too. She’s not sweaty anymore, necessarily, but her skin is still a little tacky in the way that it is when you had been sweating earlier. It was chilly outside; the autumn air had cooled it from her body on the way to the car and then, on the way to their door. She feels gross, but the way Harry is looking at her suggests he thinks she’s anything but gross: “I’m just saying, one-time offer, you can sniff me all you want post-workout. Which I’m assuming is why you begged me to go with you today.” 

Y/N tucks her fingers into her shorts and gives them the softest of tugs – again, the elastic had just about worn to nothing, so it takes very little effort for them to drop and pool around her ankles. Harry swallows hard, his gaze dropping to look at her in just her panties. The act itself isn’t as humiliating as she thought, but she’s also been naked in front of Harry more times than she can count, both in a sexual context and a nonphysical context. It’s knowing that she might not smell like her rosy body wash that kind of makes this feel different. And it’s the way he looks like he’s going to eat her. 

“You’re sure?” His voice cracks like he really can’t believe it, and Y/N’s heart races. God, he’s making her feel like she’s placating a starving dog with a bowl of food. 

“If you ask me one more time, then I’m getting in the shower right now–oh!” 

It’s not that Harry doesn’t put his muscles to work often – he does – it’s just that usually Y/N is a little prepared for it before it happens. Like, going from standing to suddenly horizontal on their bed because he more or less tossed her onto it – that was startling. Y/N squawked in what might be the most unfortunately unsexy way, as Harry crawled over her. 

He digs his nose into her neck, sucking in a breath while his fingers dance down her sides. Y/N giggles, jolting from the feel of his hands along her waist. Her legs fall open for him, letting him fit there comfortably as his tongue drags over her collarbone, tasting the salt of her skin. Harry moves around super erratically, almost like he just couldn’t believe that she was letting him. Like he would need to get it out of his system before she changed her mind. 

But Y/N wouldn’t deny him. It’s not like she doesn’t understand it – Y/N got it, at least a little bit. She's pressed her face into Harry’s crotch and breathed in before. She likes the scent of him that passes her when he’s been working out – it’s not something she cringes from. It’s just not something that she’d be super turned on about either. At least, not in the way Harry is when he slides down and presses his nose into her armpit; she can feel the way his cock twitches in his workout shorts. His prick is pressed against her leg, hard, getting harder the more he breathes her in, filling his lungs with it. 

It’s sort of ticklish, actually. Y/N isn’t into him smelling her so much as she’s into how into it he is – how his grip on her gets tighter, how his tongue drags against her ribs, before he buries even further beneath her arm. Y/N can’t imagine it smells good – she’d put on deodorant, and she uses glycolic acid daily, but again, she still hadn’t showered, and she’d just been sweating her ass off, but he doesn’t seem to care. Not when he pushes big, fat, wet kisses across her chest, so he can sniff her other armpit. She laughs a little, but Harry just whines against her in response. 

He sponges his mouth wet and hot down her belly. Y/N left her panties on because she knew Harry, and she knew that was a part of it for him. This is where he gets a little less. . .careful about it. Not that he was being very careful before, but now all sense of decorum is out the window. Harry moans, wrecked and loud against her pussy as he presses his face harshly between her legs, and Y/N honestly is surprised he doesn’t pass out from how intensely he’s been huffing her. He whines, sucks the fabric of her panties between his lips, and suck at it like he might be trying to pull every little Y/N-infused-fiber out of it. He opened his eyes, locked gazes with her, then his eyes practically rolled back in his head. 

Y/N’s drenched – her pussy is wetter than she thinks it ever has been when he lets go of the fabric. Maybe he is part puppy, shoving his snout into places it shouldn’t be. His fingers dig into her thighs, pulling her even closer to him. A little growly sound leaves him as he noses the crotch of her panties out of the way, and then the bare tip of his nose is rubbing against her slit. Getting slippery and wet, she can feel when he’s inhaling against her. She moans, her fingers pressing against her bottom lip, eyes following his every move. Harry loves it, rolling his hips against the mattress and groaning. 

Her heels press into his shoulders when he latches onto her clit, sucking hard, finally using his fingers to yank her underwear out of his way. The elastic cuts into her hip, and Y/N gasps but can’t find the words to tell him. Not until they snap away from her body, torn in two, and Harry doesn’t seem to give a fuck about it. “Baby!” She whines, “Christ, you’re –” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, non-apologetically, “Ngh, sorry, m’sorry, fuck, Sweetie, I’m g’na cum like this.” 

“Noo,” she whines, pulling her legs up further, “Fuck me, c’mon – you have to – not fair --” 

Harry rubs his face against her one last time before kissing up her body, gathering her by the hips with one hand and then fishes his cock out of his bottoms. The tip of his cock smooches against her slit first, then her dripping hole, before he eases inside of her. Harry immediately starts rocking his hips into her, hands dancing up her sides, over her ribcage, pressing her arms up again. He stuffs against her chest, between her tits. “Fuck, baby,” he pushes her thigh up, and the change in angle makes sure he fucks into her spot every single time. Y/N feels so full from him, her legs curling around his hips, squeezing him tight. “You’re sucking me in, huh? Thought – thought you weren’t into it?” 

“Not,” she murmurs, “Like when it feels like you’re obsessed with me.” 

“I am,” Harry whines, then sticks his nose into her armpit again. “I am, baby, I’m so fucking obsessed with you.” The sound is obscene in the room: the slick, sopping noise of his cock inside of her. His mouth is wet, sticky with her, pressing against her jaw, her chin, his teeth nipping along the edge. Y/N feels so full; it’s like he’s in her throat, “All I can think about, want to be pressed against you all the time, want to smell you all the time – can cum just from thinking about how you smell, baby, so good, just you – just you is so fucking good, fuck, fuck, fuck –” 

His hand slips between them, his thumb running over her clit, side to side, flicking it beneath the pad of it. Y/N’s toes curl, her orgasm boiling over, trembling through her body as she squeezes him tightly. Almost too tight, because he can’t move as easily. But he tucks his face into her neck; he huffs her where she started to build up a little sweat again. Harry cums inside of her, shaking through it; they’re pressed chest-to-chest, and Y/N thinks she can feel his heart hammering against hers. Y/N can feel how intense it is, shooting inside of her, painting her walls warm and sticky with his spend. His hips slow, thudding into her deeply, harder than before, until she gasps and starts shoving him away by the abdomen. She gets too sensitive too quickly – she thinks if she let him, Harry would probably stay inside her for an entire night. Which. . .maybe she’ll let him do that soon. She isn’t sure; maybe after she showers or something. 

Harry flattens out on top of her, though, softening, drippy cock in between them. In a version of what she’d been doing this morning. Y/N pats his back softly, scritching at him with careful fingers and nuzzling into the top of his head.  

“Thank you,” he murmurs, muffled against her skin, “Thank you so much, I’m – I’m sorry for being so weird.” 

“You’re not weird,” Y/N snuggles closer to him, “You just love me so bad.” 

“Yes,” Harry nods, “I love you so much, it makes me look stupid.” 

“I love you too,” she replies, “And while I do love you, I need to shower so bad or I might have to disintegrate.”  

Harry lifts his head from her neck, “Maybe let me clean you out first with my tongue? Then we can shower together.” 

And what, is Y/N going to say no to that?