This is the result of a conversation with @permanentcross with her anons and the ideas they put in my head. Enjoy!
It had been
going on for longer than he could tell, probably. He was already on the verge
of bringing you over his knee when you left the house, your cute little bum in
need of a good spanking for all the teasing you’d put him through.
back for a week, free from his relentless shooting schedule for a little while
before he had to go off again with Nolan and the production. You begged and
pleaded with him until he was convinced to go back to the UK, stay at the place
you shared now, instead of jetting off to LA. All because of a stupid party.
of your semester was just around the corner and your friends from uni were
planning on celebrating the last year of suffering and bad nights of sleep with
a big party on the next Friday night. Harry, your loving boyfriend, had agreed
to go with you, after much pestering and begging and lots of “pretty please,
baby, I’ll do anything you want”.
wanted, well, he hadn’t gotten it. He wanted a nice, quiet night at home with
his girl, a nice take out and maybe he could make love to you, just the way you
liked it - a slow, passionate, toe curling fuck in your warm bed, while you
moaned his name in pretty little whispers and pleaded with him to just “please,
fuck me harder”. That’s what he wanted.
What kind of ‘strong and stable’ Prime Minister sends her Home Secretary in her place to a debate of party leaders during the campaign for the election that she herself was so adamant on fighting in the first place?
At least it could be worse; she could have sent Boris Johnson.