Zarry - Oneshots

Full time Daddy

Larry - bukowsking

Zayn is not one hundred percent sure when or why it starts, but he's glad it did. Actually, no- that's a lie. He knows exactly why it started. Harry had always gotten off on his and Zayn's age difference, even if it was a measly three years. For instance, as a gift for Zayn on his 20th birthday, Harry had just casually decided to wear his pink, sparkly butt plug- his favorite- all day, and then ride Zayn until he was tears and begging for his Daddy to fill him up. But hey, Zayn certainly wasn't complaining.

If anything, Zayn has been severely anxious-excited ever since his 23rd birthday. Harry, to Zayn's displeasure, had decided to spend the holiday break with his family, instead of having their usual fucked-out, take away filled weekend. Needless to say, Zayn had become re-acquainted with his right hand and a quaint little video featuring a hairless twink that just so happened to resemble a certain curly haired, green-eyed member of One Direction. It was four days after this torturous break that Zayn finally got some relief. Following a grueling day of re-organizing his and Harry's shared flat, which entailed a trip to the nearest Tesco for groceries to re-stock the fridge, Zayn was ready to collapse on the nearest plush surface. That was, until, he heard what could only be a high-pitched whine coming from the bedroom.

"Shit," Zayn murmured to himself, worried that he must have left his porn on and his laptop open. He speed-walked through the flat, finally reaching the bedroom door, and nearly fainting at the sigh in front of him.

There, in the middle of the bed and in all his half-naked gory, was Harry. Fucking himself with what looked like three fingers, and slowly nudging in a fourth. And that wasn't even the best part. As Zayn's eyes raked over his boy's body, he began to take in his outfit, or, well, lack of. Harry had slipped on his favorite baby pink nightie, and his long, hairless legs were concealed with lacy, white thigh highs. Nestled into his gorgeous, chocolatey, shoulder-length curls was a black headband adorned with pink jewels that looked like something Harry must have made himself.

"D-Daddy... I... I wanted to surprise you." Harry sucked his plump bottom lip between his teeth, halting his movements, but leaving his finger knuckle-deep in his arse. Zayn scoffed, taking two long strides into the room,

"Well, you certainly have, princess. How long have you been home?" He questioned, slowly letting his fingers dance across Harry's thighs, enjoying how the younger visibly gulped.

"A-An hour?" Harry wondered aloud, emerald eyes blown wide and cheeks flushed a pretty red. Zayn took this moment to set himself beside Harry on the bed, leaning in to brush his lips against Harry's exposed shoulder.

"You know how Daddy hates surprises, princess. Although I have to say," Zayn took a breath to glance back down Harry's lengthy body, "You look absolutely delicious." Harry let out an embarrassing whine, arching his body into Zayn's teasing touches. He hadn't even made eye contact with Zayn and yet the older man had him trembling at his every word. "Why don't you look at your Daddy, princess? Let him see how flushed and pretty your face looks." Zayn purred, grabbing Harry's chin and tilting it to his face, lowly gasping as their eyes connected.

Harry was wearing mascara. And eyeliner. And what looked to be a light pink eyeshadow.

Fuck.

In half a second, Zayn's entire weight was on top of Harry and pinning him down to the mattress. Their lips began to dance, and tongues and teeth were clashing as Harry's delicate fingers dug into Zayn's bicep, his legs coming to wrap around Zayn's waist. "God, princess, you get Daddy so worked up. Can you feel it? Can you feel Daddy's cock pressing into your smooth little thighs?" Zayn growled, punctuating his words with a thrust against said thighs.