Spanksters part 1 (Patreon)

Just a little insight on what the pegging duo's usual dynamic is like 

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No matter the efficiency of their pegging expenditure with Y/N’s notable ability to switch off her normal obedient ways in bed for her dominant hat -- she had very quickly re-proved herself a pertinent sub. The absolute bratty little thing that loved to emerge at the worst times, with a pouty smart mouth, and a furrowed brow as she demanded his attention. They’d had only had merely a two day break period, where nobody was fucking anyone as Harry had been a little achy and needed the time to recooperate after a mindshattering orgasm. . .but within her actions throughout the entirety of the day they were spending together, he was coming to understand that she was ready and willing for her turn. 

They had a lot of errands to run that day -- or rather, Harry had plenty of errands to run, and he enjoyed when Y/N came along. She added that bit of verve to the slower parts of the day, whether it be with the quick bit of her tongue or a streamline of conscious thought when she’s really in the mood. Somehow, despite the amount of time they spend together they never run out of things to discuss, and while it baffles him he is eternally grateful for it. Which is why when Harry tells her that he had a busy day ahead as she was stuffing a chocolate chip muffin into her mouth and she starts tugging her shoes on with her finger tucked around the heel back -- he was ecstatic. 

The day had started out quite divine too, with their usual casual chatter about everything and nothing all at once. He stopped by the post office to send off a few packages, Y/N made friendly with the nice older gentleman behind the counter and somehow managing to almost gain them free shipping but Harry insisted on paying anyway. Then they stopped by a bakery because Harry quickly found out that the new smoothie recipe he tried that morning was not sustainable in the slightest. Y/N ducked in for him because he got a call and he hates being rude, speaking on the phone while he’s ordering, but he was starving and didn’t know how long the call would take. She hadn’t given a whimper or whine about it, slipping out of the car and purchasing the both of them toasted croissants and a strawberry smoothie to share (because she gets her own, she’ll only drink about half and it’s a waste so he always tells her just get one for them to split). His call was from Jeff, letting him know that the representative for a potential touring company would be attending their brunch together and they were switching the location of it, so it was best he be prudent and come a little early. 

Which was fine, honestly, but when Y/N gets into the car with two croissants, one strawberry smoothie, and a hopeful gleam in her eye as she so sweetly asked, “Can we pull over somewhere so I can ride you?” 

Harry sputtered around the straw, his brows raising, “Christ, what got into you? Were gone about three seconds.” 

“I was jus’ thinkin’ about you while I was in line and I decided I really wanted to,” she explains, “You woke me up with kisses and that was real sweet, n’it kinda makes me wet the more I think about it.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head slowly, “You’re such a filthy little thing,” he murmured, reaching out to take ahold of her thigh and squeezing it tightly, “We can’t, Babe --” 

“But the windows are tinted in this one,” she pouted her lip deep and he should’ve known then. . .should have gathered that she was in one of those moods she gets in. The one where it’s best when they’re alone at his or her flat so that he could satiate all of her desires. Take care of her in every way he could because she always takes care of him; it was one of those moods, where he wouldn’t doubt that she could slip into her subspace in a moments notice and swim around in it all day. Where she needs at least a little something to appease her for a while.

But he was so caught up in the excitement of the album and the buzz of a tour and the panic that he had about twenty minutes to get to a place thirty minutes away -- that he hadn’t noticed. 

“We don’t have time, Baby,” he gave her thigh another strong, squeeze before reaching for the gearshift and pulling it into drive, “We’ll be home before you know it.” 

That hadn’t been a suitable answer for Y/N though, despite how she nodded and relaxed back into her seat, reaching into her own croissant bag and tearing into the flaky dough. He didn’t notice the subtle shift in her mood, or in the way her gaze lingers on him, or the bratty tongue she’d adopted in the span of about three minutes. Not until they were pulling into the parking lot of the brunch spot, and Harry had puckered his mouth for a “good luck” kiss, and instead received a furrowed brow and a polite request to kiss her ass. 

It had startled him some, but he had no time to think on it, or to even threaten her with punishment, because she had already slipped out of the car and slinked over to Jeff’s cadillac parked across from them. He got out of the car and Y/N greeted him with a hug involving her arms slung around his neck, and Jeff entertained her with looping is arm around her waist so she could lift her legs and he could let her swing like a lemur around his neck. Then he thought that maybe she was just being playful and he had mistaken it for her being in a mood. 

He had been completely wrong. 

The rest of the lunch, Y/N had just been an absolute terror -- at least to him. Jeff and the tour manager (who went by John -- no first or last name -- just John) were getting those sweet eyes laced with thoughtful gazes and insightful reflections on their words, while Harry was barely spared a glance. If anything, she had gone out of her way to make the most minimal effort in responding to him. To the naked eye it wouldn’t seem like much -- they would just seem like a regular couple -- but Harry knew better. He had gotten under her skin somehow and she was getting under his in return.

Harry was equal parts annoyed and wanting; he wanted to slither his way back into her good favor, but he also wanted to spank her bottom raw and fuck her sore. It was the subtlety in her brattiness that always did him in -- it was rare she was outwardly defiant and brass, but she did all these small, nuance things that truly dug into his patience. The only warning he’d given her was sliding his hand down to her knee, squeezing in small pulsating motions. 

She only settled for a little while, being a little sweeter towards him but he could still tell she was disgruntled. Even more so when the tour manager excuses himself to answer a call, and Jeff to the bathroom, and he had leaned closer to her ear so that he could speak lowly against the shell of her ear, “Where’s my good girl, hmm? Where’d she go?” 

Y/N huffed out a breath through her nose, pushing a tomato around her plate lazily, “She’s here,” she grumbled, but when she looks up to him, her eyes were wide, “She wants to ride your cock, but you won’t let her.” 

Again, his brows raise, “Sweetheart,” he murmured, “We didn’t have time.” 

“I could’ve gone fast!” She protests, “Or I could have given you head, but you didn’t even offer.” Then, she lowers her voice, deepening it to a British lilt, “We don’t have time, we’ll be home soon ‘nough -- but I wanted you right then!” 

“You’re being a little greedy brat, y’know that, don’t you?” He said, his tone one of cautioning that he could tell made her squirm, “You needa fix your act quick, Babes, or you’re getting punished and that’s the end of it -- no riding, or even blowies.” 

It’s an empty threat, because Harry wouldn’t and he knows deep down within her she knows he would break and give her what she wanted from the start. No matter this, she still withers into an even deeper submissive state, “I’ll be good,” she promises, scooting closer to him in their booth until their thighs were pressed up close, “Promise I’ll be good.” 

He hummed lowly, like he doesn’t believe her (because he doesn’t -- they’ve got a long day ahead of them still), stabbing his fork into a slice of honeydew, and holds it in front of her mouth, watching as she parts her lips around the fruit and drags it off the fork. 

“We’ll see about that.”