#bee lovers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freedomfireflies · 20 days

Text

Remember Me*

Summary: The one where you and your best friend, Harry, reminisce over the first time he ever ate you out.

Word Count: 3.1k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, brief daddy kink, mention of knife kink + blood kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pre-consented somnophilia, not suitable for Ramadan!

“There you go, good girl. Just like that. Cum for me, Bee. Right now.”

You squirm, fingers curling into the silky sheets below as you suck in a quiet breath.

You can feel his lips on your neck. Your chest. Your inner thighs. Soft, gentle, devious. He’s everywhere. Purring in your ear, holding your hips in his hands. Keeping you just where he wants you like you’re nothing but a toy for him to play with.

You’ve never been so close. So satisfied, so pleasured. So ready to let go.

And then…you wake up.

Your lashes flutter as you slowly come to. The bedroom is dark. Still. You can hear the fan in the corner of the room and Harry’s soft inhales from somewhere beside you. Your heart is thumping hard and heavy against your ribcage while your dream slowly dissipates into reality. Disappearing into the back of your mind as you remind yourself where you really are.

And then you realize that Harry’s not beside you but below you. His breathing louder and heavier than it was before.

You look down.

And there he is, large body settled between your spread thighs as he holds you open and stares lovingly at the mess you’ve made.

And suddenly, your dream doesn’t feel so distant as you blink the sleep from your eyes and whisper, “Har?”

He glances up, pretty green eyes somehow bright even in the dark. He smiles and his lips glisten. “Hi, baby. Were you having a nice dream?”

You take in a sharp inhale and nod once. “Ye—yeah.”

“Good.” He dips down to kiss your hip. “Hope I didn’t ruin it for you.”

“No…no, I just…I…I thought I was…”

“I know,” he murmurs and kisses the other side. “I know, Bee. And you need me to fix it, don’t you?”

You blink.

“Kept whimpering for me,” he says. His palms dance down the side of your body. Squeezing lightly as though to reassure you. “Begging me to make you cum…to touch you…taste you. Said you needed my tongue.”

Your chest feels heavy as you watch him ghost his mouth up your stomach.

“And I wanted to help,” he tells you. “Wanted to make it better for you.”

He stops, but only to look up and find you again.

“Is that all right, sweet girl?” he whispers.

You nod quickly. After all, the two of you made an agreement months ago that waking each other up with sex was more than all right. You don’t do it too terribly often, but the times when you do…

You almost start to pant.

“Good,” he says, grinning once more as he runs his thumb along your aching cunt. “But I want you to do something for me, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

He moves his mouth to your inner thigh. “Want you…” He travels up your skin toward your pussy. “To tell me…” He brushes his lips over your clit. “What you were dreaming about.”

You feel yourself start to squirm, the warmth of his breath over your cunt enough to send shivers along your spine. “I…I was dreaming about you.”

“Yeah? Better have been,” he teases with a smirk. “What was I doing, hm?”

You watch him poke out his tongue and tease it near your hole. “You…you were doing this.”

He hums. “Was I?”

You nod. “Just…just like you did the first time.”

His eyes flick back to yours. “The first time, hm? When I asked to taste your pretty pussy?”

Another nod.

“Mm.” He shifts a bit on the bed and pushes your legs further apart. “Do you think about that first time a lot, Bee?”

You feel your heart skip. “Yes…”

“Think about how nice you were to let me practice on you?”

“…yes.”

“Cause you were,” he says softly between kisses to your cunt. Not enough to satisfy you, but more than enough to taunt you. “So nice and so sweet for me. Knew I’d never wanna taste anybody else but you for the rest of my life.”

You smile. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” he argues. He sucks your clit into his mouth. “Come on, lovie, you had to know I didn’t really want her. Only ever wanted you.”

Your fingers lace through his hair, and he hums. “You knew even back then?”

“Of course.” He rests his cheek on your thigh, gazing at your pussy almost as though in a trance. “Should have known I’d get addicted. I already was, even if I didn’t realize it yet.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He starts to pull you open, just to watch the way you clench around nothing. “I’d been addicted to you for years. Just didn’t know why.”

“And eating me out helped with that?”

He chuckles. “Kind of. I really did think I was doing it for Tina, but…the second I saw you, all spread out and dripping…I couldn’t have picked her out of a fucking lineup.”

You squeeze his scalp. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I mean it.” He studies your expression closely. “Bee, I’m so goddamn in love with you it makes my chest hurt. I was in love with you then and I’m in love with you now. Why do you think I kept canceling on her? Why do you think I kept begging you to teach me more things?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Cause you were horny?”

“No,” he exhales and then kisses your pussy again, groaning into you as though he’s a man starved. “No, I was fucking obsessed. And I still am.”

You whimper.

“So, I want you to tell me everything I did in your dream,” he says, his touch growing a bit greedier now as he slips his middle finger inside. “Every little thing you wanted me to do.”

You arch from the bed and try to stay still. You’re not sure how long he’s been teasing you, but it feels far longer than your dream. And you’re already shaking with anticipation as you clutch his curls and say, “You…you were touching me.”

He grins. “How, lovie?”

You reach for his hand and pull it up toward your chest. “Like this,” you pant, and he groans so lewdly, you nearly cum right then.

He squeezes your tit in his palm, kneading it between those long, nimble fingers before he pinches your nipple tight. Eliciting another noise from your throat. And you’ve never been so glad you went to bed without pajamas.

“Like this?” he asks.

You nod before you’re leading him up toward your throat. “And like this…”

You make him squeeze the sides of your neck until your eyes have nearly rolled back. He holds you gently, but with just enough pressure to make your head pound in the absolute best way.

“Yeah?” He crawls a bit higher up your body in order to get a better grip. “I remember the first time you made me choke you. Such an insatiable little thing, weren’t you?”

“Still am,” you quip, sticking out your tongue.

His smile is sadistic as he spits directly onto your tongue and squeezes your jaw shut. “Swallow.”

You do. And the taste of him—of you—is magic. Enough to have you grinding yourself against his bent leg that’s snuggled between your thighs. And he notices, but he does nothing to help you.

“What else?” he asks between desperate kisses. “Huh? What else did my dirty girl want?”

“Your cock,” you whisper. “Wanted your cock so bad, Har. Wanted you to fuck me like you did that first time. Wanted to ride you…see your handsome face when you came.”

“Yeah? Wanted to cut me up all pretty like you did with that knife?”

You pout. “I didn’t cut you up. I just wanted to see it on your cheek.”

He laughs against your shoulder, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Still can’t believe you have a knife kink. And a blood kink.”

“I still can’t believe you do, too.”

“Can’t help it. You just look so pretty in red,” he says easily. “Always have. Skin all sensitive and swollen…lips just begging to be bit…blood that looks so beautiful smeared across your chest—”

You grab onto his cheeks and bring his mouth back to yours. Kissing him so hard, he can’t speak. The image in your head is lewd and delicious and you feel his cock twitch against your hip as his body melts into yours.

“Bee,” he warns after a moment. “Bee, this isn’t about me. This is about you, come on—”

“I will. After you cum first,” you insist, reaching down between you to squeeze his tip. “My dream wasn’t just about me.”

His exhale is shaky as he closes his eyes. “Thought we were recreating the first time I ate you out?”

“Why can’t we do both?” you ask, nipping at his earlobe. “You really think I wasn’t imagining what your cock felt like as I watched you? Even back then?”

You feel his wicked grin against your cheek. “Were you?”

“How could I not? You weren’t the only one with a crush.”

He leans back. “You did not have a crush on me.”

“Yes, I did. How do you know?”

“Because you were still hung up on Eric,” he retorts as he moves down your body, returning to his previous position while you watch him go with a frown. “And I was just a convenient distraction.”

“No,” you snort, grasping onto his chin to recapture his attention. He looks at you. “Harry, you were not a distraction. Eric was the distraction. I made myself get over you by getting under him.”

He pulls his lip between his teeth, but it can’t hide his smirk. “Really?”

“Duh. You asking me to teach you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You gaze at him gently and cup his jaw. “Please don’t forget that.”

The tension between you is palpable but loving, and you giggle when he sucks your thumb into his mouth with a wink.

“Then can you let me recreate the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” he mumbles around your finger. “Because it was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I still haven’t gotten a proper taste.”

You swipe your wet digit over his lips and grin. “Then you better get to it.”

So, he does. After all, Harry is nothing if not obedient and you can’t help but feel a touch proud as he kisses his way down your body until those greedy kisses find your cunt.

He knows exactly what you like. Knows how to hold you, tease you, taste you. He flicks you with the tip of his tongue and pulls you open with his fingers. He groans every time you gasp and swallows like he’s never had a drink in his life.

And then…he blows on you. Lets his warm exhale dance across your drenched pussy until you nearly squirm away altogether. You feel as though you’re being edged. Like he’s denying you the only thing you need and you whine helplessly as you plead with him.

He merely shushes you. “You know better, Bee. Come on.”

You shake your head violently. “I can’t…can’t, Har, please—”

He spanks you. A sharp smack of his palm down your clit. “You fucking rush me and I won’t let you cum at all. Is that what you want, sweet girl?”

“…no, Daddy.”

“No, I didn’t think so. So what are you gonna do?”

“…whatever you tell me.”

He hums, wildly pleased. “Good fucking girl.”

It’s masterful the way he sucks and nips and thrusts. A combination of his fingers and his tongue that bring you closer with every curl. Because after all this time, he knows your body. He’s had a year to learn you and love you. The way you taste, the way you sound, the way you feel. He knows exactly how to treat you and my god does he treat you right.

“H,” you gasp as you reach for his hair. Clutching onto those soft curls for dear life as your legs squeeze the side of his head. “Shit, Har…I’m…”

“You looked just like this when I first tasted you,” he mumbles against your cunt. “You had this cute little fucked-out expression on your face…kept biting your lip and wrinkling your nose. Like you were scared to enjoy it.”

“Wasn’t…wasn’t scared,” you huff, but you know he’s right. “I was just trying to help you learn.”

“Mhm.” He swipes his tongue up the length of you, from hole to hole. “Loved getting to see you so vulnerable for me. And you were so eager to let me. Practically yanked me into you.”

“I did not. Not until we got that collar and leash, anyway.”

His lips pull back with a Cheshire-like grin. Another fond memory. “Speaking of, we should dig that out again. Don’t think we’ve gotten enough use out of it.”

“I agree.”

“Good.” He slaps your clit once more before spitting on it and spreading it around. “Maybe I should make you watch your dirty little videos, too.”

Your chest begins to heave. “Maybe…you should.”

“Maybe I will.” And just like that, he slips three fingers into your quivering cunt.

But the moment he reaches his knuckles and flicks his tongue, it’s over. You gasp, whine, shake. Tremble in his hands and against his tongue before you’re collapsing onto the mattress with the sounds of his grunted praise in your ear.

“Fucking shit, Bee,” you vaguely hear as he pushes your folded legs closer to your chest. “God, I fucking love it when you do that.”

And somehow, through the orgasmic haze, you realize you’ve squirted. Something else you don’t tend to do that often. But when you do…

“Shit,” he says again before burying himself back in the mess. Almost as though he means to breathe it into his lungs. He kisses it, licks it, indulges in it. Takes every last drop for himself, despite the way you whimper. “M’sorry, lovie. Just can’t help it. S’my favorite.”

And you can feel a second one already barreling toward you. You're far more sensitive now and it almost hurts to have him continue. But you know he wants a second one. Know he needs a second orgasm out of you and you're powerless to deny him.

He brushes his touch through your folds and pulls you apart just to look at you. Watching your body spasm with pleasure as your hole flutters around the emptiness where his fingers used to be.

"Harry," you plead, a pitiful mewl.

He dives in. Licking and licking and licking like you're a popsicle on a hot day. He teases your opening with his tongue before smoothing it back up. Again and again, he tastes you. Until your cheeks are stained with tears and your body unravels once more.

When you cum, time stops. You bite on your lip so hard, you draw blood. The metallic taste filling your mouth as you push him back and wiggle away from his ministrations. Nearly sobbing from the painfully beautiful overstimulation.

He laughs lightly but does allow you to rest. Pulling himself up until he can place his head on your chest and settle in your arms. “Shh. You're all right, sweet girl. I've got you. It's okay."

You only whimper.

He peppers kisses across your face until your hiccups subside. His touch is much gentler now and he spends the next few minutes speaking softly and bringing you back down to earth. Doing everything he can to remind you that he's got you. Always.

"I'm proud of you," he finally says. "So fucking proud of you, Bee. Do you know that?"

You sniffle. "Really?"

“Mhm. And not just for squirting. For everything. All the time. The way you carry yourself. The way you love your friends. The way you love me.” He nuzzles his nose into your neck. “I’m so lucky to be loved by you.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “Well, I’m so lucky to love you.”

A tender beat passes. Then, he whispers, “Do you think you’d ever wanna get married?”

Just like that, your heart stops. You hope he can’t hear it. “Um…I don’t know. Would you?”

“Probably. Only to you, though.”

“Oh…that’s good.”

He glances up. “I’m not proposing. I mean, not right now. Not like this, I just...I don’t know. I thought I’d see if you…even wanted to marry someone like me.”

“Someone like you?”

He shrugs and looks back down. “Yeah. I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d be very good husband material.”

Your expression drops. “Harry,” you whisper, dipping down to press your lips to his temple. “You’d be the best husband in the world. No matter the material you’re made of.”

He chuckles again. “Think if we did get married, my parents would have a heart attack.”

“What? Why?”

“They fucking love you. They’ve been trying to get me to ask you out since we were kids.”

“Shut up, no they have not.”

“M’serious. When I told them we started dating, I swear to God my mom sent me like twenty links to engagement rings ‘just in case.’”

You laugh now, too. “She’s so cute. I’m gonna have the greatest in-laws.”

And for some reason, this makes him smile bigger than he has all evening.

The two of you stay like this for what feels like hours. Snug in each other’s embrace, his heart against yours. And you realize that this is where you were always meant to be. Right here, in this bed with him. From the moment the two of you met all those years ago, he was your Harry. And everything after has merely led you to this moment with him.

You often think about that fateful afternoon when he waltzed into your apartment and asked if he could eat you out. You wonder what would have happened if you’d said no. Could you have been okay with seeing him and Tina? Would you have patched things up with Eric, just to distract yourself?

But then you realize, you don’t want to imagine a world where you rejected him. It was a strange twist of destiny that you brought you and Harry together that day. In a position you never thought you'd be in. But if he hadn't, you'd have never known a happiness like this. A peace like this.

You’d never know him. The real him.

You don’t care if he proposes or not. You don’t care what your future looks like. As long as it’s with him, you’ll feel fulfilled. Happy and content in a way you never thought possible.

And the best part is…you know he feels the same.

By the time you start to feel tired again, it’s nearly morning. Soft streams of sunlight are already dancing through your bedroom window, illuminating the beautiful curve of his back. Glistening through his disheveled curls like a heavenly halo.

It nearly takes your breath away.

You count his freckles and moles like stars in the sky. Run your fingers along his shoulders and spine until he snuggles even closer. You've never felt so lucky to behold someone so beautiful.

However, just before your eyes can flutter shut and allow you to finally find a bit more sleep, your phone buzzes.

Confused, you both turn toward the nightstand where the vibration is coming from before you reach for the device plugged into the wall.

“Who is it?” Harry asks sleepily as he nuzzles his way back into your neck.

You read over the message.

And your stomach drops.

“It’s…”

“What?”

“Um…”

"What?"

You say nothing. Can't. You reread the text three more times in an effort to stall and create some sort of explanation.

But your silence piques his curiosity, and he eventually glances up. "Bee? What's wrong?"

Your pulse starts to race. Your palms start to sweat. And even though you know you have nothing to be afraid of, you take in a stuttered breath.

“It’s…Eric,” you say slowly.

And just like that…the tender moment is over.

Harry sits up, expression hard and unforgiving as he waits for the rest.

And you’re almost afraid to give it to him.

“…he wants to meet.”

I cannot believe it's been one year since the story that changed my life 🥹 And I can't thank you guys enough for what you've done for me!!! It was such a silly little story that I was sure wouldn't do very well, but introduced me to so many amazing people and gave me such a new found love for writing!!!

Thank you for being here and supporting me and Harry and Bee for a whole year now!!! I'm actually going to sob 🥹💞💞 ILY GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @vyctorya @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @wolfmoonmusic @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @itsmytimetoodream @floral-recs

1K notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 1 year

Text

Teach Me*

Summary: Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

You.

Word Count: 5.4k

“...I’m sorry, you need to what?”

“I need…” Harry repeats, “...to eat you out.”

You blink at the man standing alarmingly still in the hallway outside of your door. “Is it crack? Is that what you smoke? Do you smoke crack?”

He smirks at the familiar joke before he’s brushing past you and striding into your apartment. “All right, fine. I just thought I’d ask.”

“Ask what?” you huff as you shut the door and face him. “I still don’t understand what it is you want.”

“I want to eat you out,” he says yet again as your expression falls flat. “Look I need…the practice.”

“Practice…”

“Practice.” He nods before flopping down onto the sofa. “You remember Tina, right?”

“Tall, hot, and out of your league?” you recall as you walk over to him. “Yes, I remember.”

He fights a smile. “Yeah, well…she agreed to let me take her out and I just…I want to make sure I’m prepared.”

“...prepared.”

“Prepared.” His eyes follow you as you take a seat beside him. “Come on, you know I don’t have a lot of experience with that shit, and I want to make sure I’m…you know, at least capable of making her come. And I have no other way to get…better.”

“Oh, so, naturally I’m your second-best option,” you snort playfully as you pull your knees to your chest. “But how would eating me out help you make her come? Not all girls like the same stuff, you know. Lesson number one.”

“Because I need someone to help me make my technique a little…smoother, I guess. Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t so I know,” he explains, without a hint of embarrassment, and truthfully, you’re a little impressed.

Harry has always been…bold, you would say. Assertive, confident, borderline egotistical. He’s never had a problem making friends or getting a girlfriend, so learning that his sexual experience didn’t expand as far as you thought it did was kind of a surprise.

You do admire him for wanting to be good for her. In fact, the thought is almost sweet, although you have no idea where he got the idea to ask you.

Sure, you’re his best friend, but…that’s kind of fucking…weird. Right? You guys don’t do that. You don’t even like to hug.

You run your tongue over your bottom lip and look for the deception within his expression. He could be messing with you. It wouldn’t be the first time and you certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

But there’s something…earnest in the way he speaks. In the way his eyes hold onto yours as he awaits your response, hopeful and desperate.

“So…wait, hold on.” You clear your throat and straighten up. “You…you honestly want…to eat me out…just to see if I like it?”

“Kind of, yeah,” he agrees as one shoulder bobs up in a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve got a few ideas on what to do, I just…I need someone—I need you—to tell me if it feels good or not. So I can practice and make sure she’ll like it.”

Your teeth begin to absentmindedly knaw on the inside of your cheek. Truthfully, you have no idea how to feel about this. The request is outrageous and weird and it goes way past the duties of friendship.

But you’ve known him forever and you trust him and honestly? You feel a little bad for the guy.

Sure, the best way for him to get the practice he needs would be with her, but you know him. He doesn’t like to admit he doesn’t know something and he absolutely despises feeling unprepared.

He’s a perfectionist.

And you are a little flattered that he feels safe enough with you to showcase his inexperience and that thought alone begins to wash your reservations away.

“So…all I’d have to do is just…sit here? And tell you yes or no?” you clarify, and he nods.

“Yeah. I won’t make you come, don’t worry. I know that’s…going a little farther than we need,” he says. “I just…wanna play with you a little.”

You smirk. “Wouldn’t not making me come defeat the purpose?”

He exhales a laugh as he leans back. “I just want to make sure I can. Besides, doesn’t it open up a bunch of emotions and shit? It attaches you to the person? I mean, do you really wanna live with the knowledge that you came because of me?”

“...no,” you admit. “Okay, that’s fair. So…if I agree…you’re not gonna drag this out, right? Just to annoy me?”

He chuckles again. “Well, I wanna make sure I’m doing it right…but no, I won’t drag it past that. I’ll stop whenever you want.”

Your fingers pull at a loose strand on your jeans. You aren’t seriously considering this, are you? “And if I say yes…how would we…I mean, what would we do?”

He thinks about this for only a moment, suggesting that he already came with a plan. Typical. “I guess we go somewhere you feel comfortable…we start slow. You tell me what you’re okay with, what you’re not okay with…and then I’ll just…get started.”

You look at him. Really look at him. He’s relaxed. Almost too relaxed considering the line he’s suggesting you both cross. A line you can never uncross.

And as you stare at those familiar features you’ve known for years…you feel your body exhale a deep breath. You’re doubtful, sure…but he’s always been rather exceptional at providing you comfort, just through a look alone.

Exactly like he is now.

His mouth quirks up in a smirk as he bumps his knuckles against your knee teasingly. “We don’t have to, Bee. I just…thought I’d ask.”

You roll your lips into your mouth as you hesitate, the familiar nickname calming you ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t…I’m not saying no, I just…I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“I know,” he agrees with a nod. “Look, just…forget I said anything. I’ll Google it, it’s fine. Let’s just watch Schitt’s Creek or something, yeah?”

With that, he turns toward the TV, grabs the remote, and begins to flip through the channels, leaving the conversation behind.

But you aren’t as quick to let the idea go. After all, he planted the seed, and now you’re starting to wonder. You’re starting to…accept.

Maybe things will be weird. And maybe you won’t be able to go back to how you used to be. But at least you’ll have helped him…? And that’s…something that friends do.

…right?

“I have never heard someone say so many wrong things…one after the other…consecutively…in a row,” David says to your right as Harry smiles and glances over to see if you’re listening.

But you’re not.

At least, not to David.

“Okay,” you murmur, quiet enough that it becomes lost beneath the next line on the show.

Harry, confused, raises a brow and begins to lower the volume. “Sorry, what?”

“Okay,” you repeat, a little more confidently than you had before. “Okay, I agree to your proposal. Just this once.”

He blinks. “Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously.” You nod. “What? Don’t look at me like that, I’m charitable. And cool, and a really good friend. So…don’t forget that the next time I ask you to buy the popcorn at the movie.”

His eyes roll but he laughs as he tosses the remote aside. “All right, that’s fair. Deal.”

You both go quiet.

Funny…for some reason, you thought agreeing would be all there was to it.

His eyes soften as he looks you over. “So…you’re in charge, okay? You just…tell me where you wanna go, what you’re comfortable with…whatever you want, yeah?”

You nod faintly before glancing toward your room. “Um…I guess we can do it on the bed. There’s probably more room, so it would be a little easier…I guess.”

He nods, too, before slowly moving for the edge of the couch. But he doesn’t stand until you do, eyeing you closely as if gauging your reaction.

You aren’t sure why you feel so…timid. You’re not exactly nervous, maybe just…apprehensive. But, it’s Harry, and he will always be the boy that got a blueberry stuck up his nose and snorted purple snot to you.

And it can’t get more embarrassing than that.

He follows you into the bedroom. The same bedroom he’s seen a million times, although now, it’s like a completely different space.

With an awkward clear of your throat, you take a seat on the corner of the mattress, head tilting back as you look up at him expectantly. “Uh…now what?”

“You tell me,” he says softly, hands finding refuge in his pockets. “Where do you wanna be? Against the pillows? Might be more comfortable.”

You glance over your shoulder at the headboard. “Yeah, I guess that’s…a good idea.”

He smiles again, stepping back to allow you the room to crawl back.

Once you’re in position and settled, he takes your spot on the edge of the bed. “Still good?”

You nod, arms resting atop your stomach, almost as if to hide yourself. “Yup.”

“Do you wanna pick a safeword?”

Your brows raise. “I mean…I think ‘stop’ will do just fine.”

He snorts his amusement. “Fair.”

Again, you both grow quiet, and you wish you could find your nerve. In the many years you two have known each other, not once have you ever been this shy. Or quiet. In fact, you don’t believe there’s ever been a second of silence between you, and you have no idea what to do with it.

He straightens up, taking the reins when he notices you don’t plan to. “Do you have your phone?”

Confused, you reach into your pocket and wiggle the cell phone free.

He nods. “Okay, I want you to pull up your favorite porn.”

Your lips part as you blink. “...I’m sorry, what now?”

"Well, I’m willing to bet you’re not exactly turned on right now, right?” he explains, nodding his chin at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “And I’m just thinking that might be a little harder to work with. For both of us.”

Unfortunately, he’s right. You’re about as dry as the Sahara desert, so you admit defeat and swipe up on your screen.

Now, while you and him have both exchanged some of your favorite videos before, pulling up one now…in front of him…feels like a whole new ballgame.

You quickly readjust the volume before looking for the ones you know normally do the trick, refusing to sneak a glance at the man now scooting a bit closer to you.

But you do hear him smile. “Find it?”

Your eyes land on the familiar thumbnail you’ve seen a hundred times before as you whisper, “Yeah.”

“Good,” he hums, hands coming to rest near your outstretched legs. “Can I take your jeans off? Just your jeans.”

You peek out from around the screen of your phone, catching the curious but hopeful look on his face. “...sure.”

He nods his understanding before shifting closer so he can reach for your zipper to guide it down.

You debate watching him but choose instead to click play on the video and force your attention elsewhere. Maybe this will go smoother if you just…don’t look at him.

Ever.

You feel the air hit your legs as his fingers curl around the fabric at your hips to pull it down. He’s deliberate, making sure he doesn’t accidentally graze something he’s not supposed to (ironically enough), but you appreciate the gesture.

He gently tugs the material down to your ankles before effortlessly tossing it aside, and you feel yourself swallow.

This isn’t your first time, so you thought you’d know what to expect. But you don’t know what to expect from him. He seems to have a plan (thank God), and you catch the way he eyes your underwear before he glances up at you.

“Ready?” he murmurs, the cadence of his voice rather reassuring. “I’ll just play with you a bit for now, yeah?”

Again, you swallow thickly, forcing the nerves aside. “Yeah, go.”

And from that point on, you decide to proceed with a more clinical mindset. This is practice, exactly like he said. It doesn’t mean anything to either of you, and once it’s over, you doubt you’ll ever mention it again.

It’s just practice.

A cunt is a cunt, a tongue is a tongue, a hand is a hand. Doesn’t matter who they belong to. Pleasure is pleasure, and that’s all there is to it.

You return your attention to your phone as the bed dips, signaling that he’s getting himself into position. You wonder what he means when he says he wants to play with you, and you also wonder if he’ll actually be any good.

But before you can worry that you’ll have to tell him that he’s terrible…he touches you.

You feel his palm, gently smoothing up your right leg, slowly but with purpose. Your breath hitches as you blink at the images flashing across the screen in front of you. You have no idea if you’ll be able to get out of your own head long enough to feel turned on, but you don’t worry about it quite yet.

Then…you feel his thumb.

Your entire body goes still as the pad of his finger brushes down the front of your underwear, right over your clit. There’s just enough pressure to capture your attention but not so much that it feels uncomfortable.

Your chest deflates with a deep breath as you begin to move your focus from the porn to him.

He does it again, a little harder this time around. It’s teasing, almost. Exactly like he said it would be. He’s simply playing with your body and seeing how it reacts. And every time you twitch or your legs begin to tense, you hear him smile, as if making a mental note of it.

For a few minutes, this is all he does. He runs his fingers up and down the fabric in slow but teasing patterns, pressing and sometimes circling as you feel an ache begin to form.

The sounds coming from your phone are successful in urging your body to bend to such salacious intentions. You can feel your muscles unwind as your mind begins to release those doubtful premonitions.

With a flutter of your lashes, you move your phone to the side so you can get a glimpse of the boy between your legs.

He doesn’t seem to notice. Either that or he pretends not to. And for a moment, you aren’t sure what to make of the sight before you. Harry, your best friend, in a staring contest with your cunt and you want to be put off…but you’re not.

“How’s that?” he murmurs after a moment, his other hand softly stroking the skin of your thigh as he pulls your legs further apart.

Your voice betrays you as you breathe, “Good.”

He looks up. Smiles. “Noted.”

He does it some more, thumbing over your clit before pressing into it and guiding it in a circle. You squirm each time, the faintest of whimpers getting stuck in the back of your throat.

He seems proud, and you almost want to be annoyed, but you just don’t have the mental capacity to be in this moment.

Maybe when it’s over.

And then, he does something you hadn’t expected.

He dips down…and presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh. Not too close but not too far, and as he does, his eyes find yours.

Shit. “Okay, I’m ready,” you whisper quickly, hips subtly bucking up. “I’m…I think I’m good now.”

His brow raises as he drops his hand and you have to fight the urge to whine. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip. “I mean, if you are.”

“I am,” he says, glancing back down at your waist. “Yeah, I am.”

So you nod, and anxiously await his next move.

He reaches again for your body, and you want to sigh with relief as he slips his fingers under the band of your underwear to peel it down.

The cool air is rather chilling and it’s then that you’re made aware of the mess already forming between your thighs. You knew you’d begun to enjoy yourself but you’re surprised by just how much.

Whether that was because of him or because of the video…you don’t exactly know.

Once the lace has been flicked to the side, he readjusts onto his knees and formulates a plan.

He makes you wait. Watch. Watch as he once again takes your legs in his hands to guide them apart and settle between them.

Watch as he outstretches his palm so he can run it along your hip before moving lower.

Watch as he takes his thumb and brings it back to your clit which is now exposed to his skin.

And the contact is sinful. You’re worked up enough that the immediate connection makes your head drop back, and while you’d like to be embarrassed…you just don’t care.

He drags it down. Down. Presses, rubs, and dips into the wetness that waits for him.

He’s concentrated, and the look on his face is rather adorable. He’s learning. Studying. Observing each and every reaction you offer him as he continues to tease you.

Once in a while, he’ll venture a glance up, perhaps for approval, and you’ll nod quickly. Then, he’ll return to the task at hand as he looks for new ways to make you gasp.

He slides the tip of his finger in without warning and when you whimper, he stills and raises his brow.

You can tell he was aiming for the element of surprise, choosing not to warn you in order to receive this very response, but he’s not sure if that was a sound of approval or unease, so you rush to clarify.

“No, it’s fine,” you mumble. “It’s fine, it’s good.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes, it’s good. Go.”

Encouraged, he pushes in. He’s still wary of your enjoyment but he seems to focus more on the movement of his hand than your expressions. And that’s all right with you. You’re happy to simply sit and…judge. Which is what he’s asked you to do, and you plan to uphold your end of the deal.

He stops when he’s reached his knuckle, finger curling slightly before he’s gently pulling back. He repeats the action a time or two more and the fullness that accompanies the stretch is quite enjoyable.

Your eyes move to the ceiling as you fight the urge to watch him. You’re not that comfortable yet and perhaps watching him would ruin the fun. So, for now, you stare at the white paint above you as he begins to pump his hand a bit faster.

When he adds a second finger, you gasp, and he uses this as leverage to expand his search.

And you know exactly what he’s looking for, the crease between his brows indicative of his captivation.

But just when you’re getting ready to offer some help, he drives in and curls up until the tips of his fingers brush against that particular point of ecstasy.

You inhale a sharp breath and writhe away, faintly panting, “Shit…that.”

Intrigued, he perks up, although he doesn’t relax his pace. “That?”

He does it again and your eyes squeeze shut. “Yeah…yeah, it’s…mhm.”

A smile dances across his lips as he scoots a little closer to watch his own hand as he repeats the action.

You begin to slump down the mattress, limbs turning to jello as he guides your body up toward that familiar ledge, and you hear him hum his approval.

“Good,” he murmurs, you assume in an attempt to soothe you. “Very good, m’proud of you. Seem to be doing really well.”

You stumble over a scoff. “Yeah, well…so are you.”

The grin grows. “Still doing okay?”

“Yes,” you whisper when his thumb ghosts over your clit. “Yeah, I…fuck. I’m…is this all you’re gonna do…then? I thought…I thought you wanted…to…with…the other…”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is coherent but he seems to understand. “Yeah, I just wasn’t sure if you were ready.”

“I am,” you correct quickly. “I’m…yeah, I’m fine. You can…you’re good. Just do it.”

He dips his head down but doesn’t quite connect as he continues to watch you carefully. “Bee?”

“...wha—shit—what?”

“Thank you.”

Your eyes roll playfully, although perhaps that’s just from the pleasure. “Yeah, yeah, I’m…I’m a fucking saint. Just…fucking do it, okay?”

So…he does.

Those lips you used to stare at move down to your clit and he brushes his mouth over your body for just a moment before you see his tongue.

He takes a moment to decide exactly what he wants to do before he’s pressing that tongue into you and dragging it up from his hand.

You’re so wound up that it doesn’t take much more for you to arch off the bed in search of that feeling. He’s hardly done anything but your head is rolling back across the pillow as your fingers dig into the blanket beneath you.

He nips at you gently, continuing to pump your arousal in and out as it coats his hand, and your mind instantly falls completely blank.

The sounds…god, the sounds. The sound of you, the sound of him, the sound of your body falling apart beneath him.

He’s good. He’s very good, and you almost wonder if he was lying about his inexperience. There’s no way he learned this from porn…at least, you can’t see how. But, he is a perfectionist. Maybe it just comes naturally to him.

“Awfully quiet up there,” you hear him say, and the vibration of the deep tone of voice sparks a chill down your spine. “That bad?”

No! you want to scream but you simply shake your head. “It’s…it’s good. You’re…this is great. This is all…you know…standard…good…stuff.”

When he smiles, your cheeks grow hot. “Guess I have a good teacher.”

“Please,” you huff, pressing your palm to your forehead. “You always—god, always know what you’re doing. I had nothing to do with it.”

He shrugs as his eyes flick across the mess in front of him. “Had more to do with it than you think.”

He dives back in, licking a stripe up before driving his fingers in further. And there’s so much happening. So much that it makes you crazy. There’s him, and there’s you, and there’s that reminder of need that continues to grow. You can’t focus in on any one thing, and honestly...you’re okay with that.

When he sucks you into his mouth, you have to fight the urge to grab onto him, twisting the duvet around your knuckles as you reel.

“Don’t,” he mumbles, and you work to figure out what he’s referring to. Did you do something wrong? “Don’t grab the blanket. Grab me.”

You blink down at him. “I’m…no, it’s fine. I was just—”

“Bee, I’m not asking,” he interrupts, rather resolutely. “You wanna do it, so do it. Promise, I don’t mind.”

You certainly aren’t a stranger to this more…authoritative side of him. Although now, you might even…like it? At least, in this context.

“Come on,” he repeats, pulling back only to shoot you a stern look. “She will. And it’ll show me what you like. Don’t be a pussy, just do it. You won’t hurt me.”

And you almost want to fight him, but he’s right, and you can’t argue that.

So, the moment he returns to his focused work, you reach for those chocolate brown curls and give them a nice tug.

He makes a noise of approval that nearly kills you, lapping at your folds like he’s depraved and you’re his only remedy.

Tina is gonna love it.

He finds a certain rhythm that you respond to well and zeros in. His cheeks hollow every time he sucks on you only to quickly pop off as he presses his tongue beside his fingers.

Your nails scratch down his scalp and he seems to like it, his other hand grasping onto your thigh so hard you imagine it’ll bruise.

And for just a moment, you actually don’t mind. You concede to the satisfaction he’s offering and you indulge in it. You find gratification in the fact that you accepted and you even decide that maybe…this was a good idea.

“Are you close?” he asks once your whimpers scale up an octave.

You nod quickly. “Yes…yeah, I’m…yeah.”

“Good,” he muses proudly before he’s suddenly removing his hand from your body and pulling away.

You nearly disappear through the mattress as you choke on a dejected whine and look down at him. “What…what happened?”

He breathes out a laugh as he settles onto his knees. “Nothing, I’m just keeping my word.”

His word.

Right.

“You…oh,” you whisper, fighting your disappointment. “Yeah. Well…that was…you did good. That was all…you know, very well done. She’ll like it, you’ll be fine.”

He seems pleased with your approval before his eyes begin to narrow in thought. He watches you haphazardly reach for a throw blanket to cover yourself, but just as you’re getting ready to toss it over your legs, he snatches onto your wrist.

You both still as he studies you. “Bee?”

“...what?”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “If there’s something you want to ask me…then ask me.”

You blink. “What…what do you mean?”

With his hold still on your arm, he leans closer. “Bee…we agreed, yeah? M’trying to be a good student, but I can’t be if you don’t tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitches the closer he gets. “Har, I don’t know what you’re—”

“Do you wanna come?”

Well…shit. “I…” You begin to shift nervously under his pointed stare. “I was just…”

His expression softens although there’s a hint of smugness swimming behind his smile. “Do you want me…to make you come?” he clarifies as your stomach twists into a knot.

Feigning exasperation, you huff a stray hair from your eye. “Well, what do you think? Obviously nobody likes being edged.”

He’s amused as he begins to lower back down, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. “Then what do you need to do?”

You huff again, shooting a quick glare his way as you watch him drop his gaze to your sensitive cunt. “Harry…come on.”

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head. “Nope, that’s not it.”

You open your mouth, a quippy remark locked and loaded, but right before you can use it…he puckers his lips and blows on your clit.

Your muscles recoil and your throat seems to close up as you pull against his hold. “You fucking asshole, you did that on purpose.”

“Obviously.” He tosses you a wink. “You wanna try again?”

No, I wanna kill you, you think but don’t say. “Harry…please.”

You briefly notice the way his eyelashes flutter at the sound of his name but he doesn’t comment on it. “Please what?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, Bee, you can do it.”

“I just…I…this isn’t…”

“Almost there, that’s it. Be a good girl and ask me.”

Oh, that sadistic fucker. You’d berate him for such a nickname if it didn’t turn you on so goddamn much, especially with the state you're in. You might even wanna hear it again and truth be told, the thought blows your mind.

You swallow a shaky breath. “Harry?”

“Yes?”

“...please make me come.”

A wide smile bursts across his face. “Attagirl.”

And with that…he continues.

You’re thrust back up the precipice of pleasure as he slips three fingers into your aching, dripping cunt.

And it’s purposeful and practiced and he’s such a liar because he knows exactly what he’s doing, at least to you, and you want to smack him.

But you also want to grab onto his hair and his arm and every inch of his body and never let go because he’s so good for making you feel this way. The best friend you could ever have and why on Earth didn’t you guys try this earlier?

Each curl, each twist, each push in. You feel so full and he feels so good and it’s only his hand and then suddenly…it’s his mouth, too.

And the moment he presses his tongue against you, you lose it. You roll your hips against his face, and lift your back from the bed, and drop your mouth open as a desperate moan falls free.

And it goes, and goes, and goes. Stronger and longer than any other one you’ve ever had and this time, you think it really does kill you.

But he doesn’t stop, not even when you’ve begun to settle. He pushes against the sensitive nerves until tears spring to your eyes. He teases and he tortures and he demands a second orgasm out of you before you can even fight it.

This time, he grabs onto your hips, one hand on either side, to lift you and place you where he wants.

And he tastes you. Savors you on his tongue as if this is for his enjoyment, not yours.

And you look down at him, and you see the flush in his cheeks, and the messy way his hair falls into his eyes, and the veins in his arms as he holds you.

And you lose it. Completely and utterly and permanently.

You disappear into your own head for a moment until his ministrations relax and he slowly—very slowly—begins to let go.

As you fight to catch your breath, you watch him run his thumb across his lip. He’s going to wipe you away, you imagine, but then, to your surprise, he sucks his thumb into his mouth.

When he notices you watching, he raises a brow. “Want some?”

And you can only lay there and stare at him, dumbfounded and blissed-out

He laughs to himself when he notices the spacey expression on your face, moving to hover over your body until he’s only inches away. “Can I try something else?”

“What?” you ask breathlessly.

He smiles. “Kissing you.”

Your eyes widen. “...why?”

He shrugs. “I mean, it’s only polite after something like that, no? Like…a parting gift.”

Your eyes narrow. “How sweet. No, really, that was so romantic. Don’t stop, give me another compliment—”

He presses his lips to yours. And it’s rushed and it’s messy and it’s the perfect parting gift.

It’s him.

And you don’t mind that.

You both grin when he pulls back, chuckling to yourselves as he flops over onto the bed beside you.

He helps you toss the blanket over your legs before he’s turning onto his side, head in his hand as he studies you. “All right, Teach. What do you say?”

You pretend to think. “Well…your dirty talk could use some work.”

He smirks. “Okay.”

“And your incessant need to make me spell it out lost you a few points.”

“Sure, sure.”

“But, overall…that was really good,” you admit, and he beams. “Like…better than I expected, and I kind of think you lied about not knowing what to do.”

He shakes his head playfully as he glances off into your room. “Good to know you had so much faith in me.”

“Oh, I didn’t. Not even a little.”

He snorts. “Well, I meant what I said. I only knew what to do because of you.”

“Yeah right. I didn’t tell you any of that.”

“You did,” he argues, turning his attention back to you. “Not with words, no. But with the sounds you made. The way your breath would catch or the way you’d squirm. Or when your nose would crinkle up ’cause you were trying really hard not to like it.”

Shit…had he noticed that? “I…okay, in my defense…I like almost anything. And I wanted to make you work for it.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Yeah.”

He rolls over onto his back, grinning up at the ceiling. “All right, well…I still appreciate it.”

“Hey, don’t get all sappy on me now.”

“Fuck off,” he groans. “I mean it, Bee. I was honestly…okay, don’t fucking laugh, but…I was kind of nervous about it. About whether or not she’d like it. Whether or not you’d like it, and…I’m glad you said yes. I’m glad it was you because…you know. It’s you. And I always feel better around you.”

You work to restrain your smile as you look up at the fan spinning above you. “I feel better around you, too.”

He hums.

“Especially after that. I mean…that was good,” you add and he shakes his head again. “She’s gonna love it.”

He turns to you. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.” You meet his eye. “Really, Har, you have nothing to worry about. She’ll show you what she likes just like I did. You know what to do, you just have to listen. And then…you can call me and tell me all about it.”

“Deal,” he agrees eagerly, sticking his pinky between you.

You take it and squeeze. “And I already know what next week's lesson is gonna be.”

Amused, he says, “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

You grin.

“How To Eat Ass 101.”

Next part:

~ Show Me* (Pt. 2)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist (with all the other parts plus extras!)

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #best friend!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #smut #oneshot #imagine #harry styles concept #harry and bee

5K notes · View notes