Y/N doesn't sleep ft. mean daddy harry (Patreon)

Hello! So I added an additional person, and for the name I used Alex and I'm talking Alex Hogh Andersen, but if that isn't your cup of tea I left his description broad so it can be any Alex you want! I hope you guys like it, it's a bit filthy :) 

______________________________________________________________________________

Y/N was in for it, she knew that much. 

Had it been a good idea to stay up all night binge watching a show the night before she and Harry were meant to run errands? Not in the slightest. Nor had it been a great idea to lie about it when he’d come to the den where she’d been snuggled tight in a blanket on the couch asking why she’d never made it to bed. 

“Did you stay up all night, Darling?” 

“No, I fell asleep watching a show. I just woke up twenty minutes ago.” 

He’d looked skeptical but let it drop, though she figured he had some clue. Even if he had, he came over to her, leaned down and pecked a sweet kiss to her mouth first, then her forehead before going to get ready. She’d known he would be livid if he found out she lied — Harry was very, very, very serious when it came to self care and sleep was a top priority in his mind (right after eating and just before orgasms), so whenever he found out she hadn’t slept he was adamant on having her do so. She didn’t want to ruin the day though, nor did she want him to run errands without her (she liked running them with him, it was domestic and makes her feel soft), and that’s why she lied. Thought it would suit them both better anyway, so he wouldn’t have to be alone and she didn’t have to be alone.

However, there were a few very identifying factors that Y/N hadn’t slept and she believes Harry is keen on recognizing each of them( that’s why she thinks he had known from the start she had stayed up all night and was waiting for her to tell the truth — he didn’t like when she lied, especially when he knew her well enough to know she was doing so). It started with the first whine; when he asked if she was ready yet and she huffed and pouted because, “I can’t find my white shoes” when he can find them in little under a minute. Then she rests her head against the window, and just about purrs when Harry caresses her shoulder. He offers for her to stay in the car and rest while he runs into a store but she insists she goes in, and makes a fuss if he tries to convince her otherwise. She’ll lean her head on him, gets her loopy giggle for his jokes, let her eyes flutter shut when he trails his fingers up and down her arms. 

Harry asks several times — gives her several chances to tell the truth, but she all but stomps her foot after the fifth question, exclaiming, “I fucking slept alright? Stop asking me!”

If that wasn’t clear enough that she hadn’t, her eyes watered immediately and chest shook with a breath. She could see his face set stern and stony, eyes undeviating from her and she knew it clear as day, before he could even say it beneath his breath, “You have a minute to gather yourself before I bend you over in front of all these nice people.”

Her heart was beating against her chest.

Y/N was in for it.

She poured her mouth, and she was so tired that it took nothing for her to slip into that headspace, as she knuckles at her eyes and frowns, “I’m sorry Daddy,” she murmurs, only low enough from here, “I’m sorry I didn’t - I lied, I didn’t —“

“I know, baby.” He says lowly, and despite the pet name, his tone sounded far from sweet, “You’ll have your chance to apologize later.”

The rest of the day she spent attempting to be on her best behaviour and failing for the second half of it, barely breathing funny as to not disturb or upset him. He carried on as normal but she could feel deep in her marrow that he was planning something and that something was not going to be good. The anticipation of it, coupled with the grip he had on her wrist or the hand at the small of her back, had her more excited than she very well wanted to admit. Though she desperately attempts to try and ward those feelings away, they stay, no matter the fact that there was no way he was going to let her cum tonight. Even if she pleaded on her knees, if he wasn’t happy with her, she wasn’t getting the gratification. 

They forgo the bakery for sweets which almost gets her huffy again but one look from Harry and she keeps her tantrum at bay. She was still so drowsy, her eyes heavy, but she wouldn’t allow herself a blissful moment of rest. At this point she figured she might as well stick it out, if she were to be punished for it anyway. Though at some point Harry does get fed up, when she’s on the precipice of a whine when he tells her that they won’t get a crumb cake like he’d promised, he tells her to stay in the car and close her eyes, and when she tries to refuse that Harry grabs her by her chin and makes her face him. 

“Listen, it’d be in your best interest to stay in this car and rest or Daddy’s going to be much meaner than he already planned to be.” He said through gritted teeth before popping open the car door and leaving her in there. 

By the time they get home, Y/N is exhausted, horny, and a tea kettle of whines that whistle every chance that they get to. Once she helps him cart the bags in, he tells her to go upstairs to their room and wait for him on the bed while he put things away and had “some calls to make”. Who the calls could be to, she wasn’t sure, but her ears perk up at the sound of his voice saying, “Such a little brat today.” Who could he be telling about that? She wanted to ask but she knew he wouldn’t tell her anything -- he was much too frustrated with her to. 

It feels like a millennia passes (it was only thirty minutes) before she here’s the front door open and close, followed by the distinct sound of multiple footsteps opposed to just the only familiar tap of Harry’s. She can make out the low, murmuring of a conversation not meant for her ears. Brows furrowing, she rubs briefly at her temple, sat on her knees in the center of the mattress, still clothed. There’s a brief knock on the door before Harry’s pushing it open, revealing not only him, but their close friend Alex. 

Alex was — well, he was the only person who had some clue of what went on between Y/N and Harry behind closed doors. He’d found out entirely by accident; an evening of a pool party that they’d all been attending, Y/N had slunk off to find Harry tucked away in a little nook, and had crawled into his lap in her soppy wet bathing suit. “I’m tired Daddy,” she murmured to him, unknowing that Alex was just a few steps away. When she had realised what she’d done, she was mortified, but Harry merely tapped her bum, told her to go get them both another strawberry daiquiri from the bar while he spoke with their friend. She presumes that he told Alex something along the lines of what they did, because when she comes back, feeling a little floaty still but primarily still embarrassed thinking about the look on Alex’s face when she’d muttered the sentence -- he doesn’t seem as shocked anymore. And when she whispers a soft, “Sorry,” in his direction (for exposing him to what they do in the bedroom), he only nodded and squeezes her knee comfortably, “S’okay, little mouse.” 

Later that night, after they’d gotten ready for bed, she’d asked Harry what he’d told him and Harry just kissed her temple and told her to go to sleep.

That had been the last of it, or so she thought, until right now as he steps in through the door behind Harry, who is loosening the first few buttons on his shirt, “Don’ know why you’re still dressed,” he says idly, nodding Alex to the seat in the corner where he walks without question, “Brat’s don’t wear the nice, pretty clothes Daddy buys for them.” 

She moves slowly reaching for the bottom of her shirt but pausing, looking up to Alex and then to Harry, “I -- um -- Alex is here?” Harry nods, “How come?” 

Harry moves to their dresser drawer, sliding open the top with his fingers slipped into the handles before he searches for what she knows are their ties, “Well, I figured since my girl decided she wanted to misbehave in front of people, she’d be fine getting punished in front of someone.” He says it so casually, like this happens everyday but this is the first time they’d ever invited someone into the bedroom. It brings a rush of excitement that tickles low in her belly, but a niggling worry of the unknown -- would he be involved? Would he just watch? Would he say anything at all? “Are you okay with Alex being here?” He gives her a chance to veto it, but Y/N finds herself nodding only moments after it’d left his mouth. 

“Yes,” she voices, knowing Harry likes verbal communication much better. 

“That’s no way to answer me, brat, and you know that,” Harry loops the scarfs around his palms a few times, “And what are those clothes still doing on?” 

Y/N tightens her grip on the hem of her shirt, lifting it above her head and tossing it to the ground, “Yes Daddy,” she corrects herself, reaching down to the button of her jeans and popping it open, leaning backward so that she could wiggle them down her legs. She kicks them off, letting them lay limp on the ground. This part felt automatic but when she reaches up to the latch of her bra, she shoots a glance at Alex again, but Harry steps into her field of view. 

“Do you need to safeword?” He asks her but she shakes her head, following through and unhooking her bra the rest of the way. Her breasts are exposed to the cool air of the room, nipples pebbling harder than they had already been.  

Harry takes his seat at the edge of the bed and Y/N crawls into his lap routinely. It’s not that she makes an effort to get punished so often -- sometimes she just likes to be spanked and Harry does it for her -- but it does feel like she is in this position quite often. She holds her arms behind her back and Harry takes the soft, olive green satin tie and loops it around her wrist, tightening it. He positions her head so that she’s lying on her cheek, facing where Alex is sat. Her heart kicks up in her chest when she takes him in, where he’s sat spread legged, an elbow on either arm of the seat, and when they lock eyes she feels dizzy. 

“Why don’t you tell Alex why you have to be punished, hmm Love?” He requests, rubbing his hand cool against the heated skin over her bottom, “He isn’t all too sure.” 

Her gaze is undeviating from Alex’s, wriggling her bum up towards Harry’s palm but he presses her down by the hips, “I’m. . .I’m a bad girl.” She responds and Harry takes some of her skin between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it some. 

“How were you bad?” 

“I lied,” she continues, “I didn’t sleep all night and lied about it, then I was a brat all day. Now Daddy has to remind me how to be good.” 

“That’s right,” he murmurs, “So I think thirty ought’a do, for a brat like you. What do you say Alex? Is thirty too much?” 

Y/N shudders, not only from Harry’s voice, but from the sound of Alex’s response, “I’d say that’s the perfect amount. If not five more for not having her clothes off.” 

“I like how you think,” Harry’s hand leaves her and Y/N braces herself, knowing what’s coming, “Don’t you, Pet?”

That’s where they start -- his hand returning to her bum with a resounding swat. The burn zips through her body, a jolt that makes her gasp and her fingers dig into his leg and the sheets. His second and third come rapidly, the skin feeling stingy red, already warming from the extra attention being placed on it. She squeezes her eyes shut, embarrassment and arousal dripping through her body. Though the next collision of his palm to the round of her right cheek, “Eyes open.” He orders and Y/N doesn’t even question how he’d known she’d closed them as she peels them back open, staring into Alex’s eyes and biting hard on the inside of her lip. 

“Sorry Daddy,” she mutters gently, toes curling as he swats her right cheek particularly hard and stuffs her face closer into his thigh. 

She is resorted to nothing but whines and whimpers as he finishes, the sound of his palm hitting her flesh loud, and when her bleary eyes focus in on Alex, she notices a bulge in his trousers. Apparently Harry notices as well, as he pets at her hair gently -- in that soft way he does after he’s punished her, even if they’d not finished the punishment thoroughly, he likes to check in on her -- he hums, “You’re so pretty bent over my lap, you got me and our friend all worked up, hmm?” He coaxes her upward, positioning her so that her bum faced more towards Alex and she had her knees digging into the mattress. Harry scoots forward some, rubbing his hand over the sore skin, reaching down to where she was soaking wet. 

Y/N whines again, rubbing her face into the comforter as Harry slips his fingers against her lips, pulling them apart, “Look at that,” he murmurs, sliding his thumb down towards her clit and rubbing in one small circle, “Look how messy that little hole is?” He pushes an opened mouth kiss to her bum, “Lovey, how would you feel about edging  you all night long?” 

She shakes her head, though she doesn’t mean it, and he knows as much,  “But --” 

“Hmm, none of that,” he cooed, pulling her upward to make her face him, “Your punishment is far from over, Bratty girl, so what you’re going to do is show me where my good girl went and thank me for even considering touching you at all.” 

Like of zap of lightning, the arousal starts at all of her nerve endings and pools in her center. 

“Thank you Daddy.”