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iicarusflew · 2 years

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Apple

Draco doesn’t turn back as the bell chimes for the hundredth time, but he knows it’s him. He silently contemplates the irony of destiny, it’s cruel sense of humor as he hears Harry Potter’s awkward cough from the door. He always does that, as if he braces himself for what’s to come.

What is to come?

They talk and sometimes verbally attack one another and Draco tries very very hard not to stare at his lips.

The light clatter of the bell startles Draco, and it’s unusual. See normally, he is well-acquainted with bars and all its surroundings. The drunken stutters, the poorly landed jokes, the desperate attempt to connect with something, anything. For all the people that stumble here every night, and how jam-packed it always seems, he hasn’t found another place lonelier than this.

But for a few days it seems less lonely. Something heavy sets in his stomach as Draco waits for him to arrive. Every time the doorbell chimes he feels more and more entrapped to his seat. A minute feels like an hour.

He sits at the bar on his own. In front of him is a half finished beer in a large mug that looks more like a jar. He circles his finger around the mouth of it and hears the soft whistle that comes from the friction. The server, a muggle named Tom, smiles at him from time to time and Draco wonders each time what it means. Normally he is fairly good at reading people. That’s his job, essentially. And that has been his job all his life.

People smile at you for a reason. People are nice to you for a reason. People are mean and rude and selfish because that is the inherent nature of men.

Draco gives him an appraising nod after the seventh awkward glance. Tom’s eyes crinkle in joy. He has a happy face, a knowing face, a face you’d want to trust. Draco doesn’t trust him.

Tom leans to him. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“I dunno. Do you?”

“You’re Draco Malfoy.”

The movement of his fingers doesn’t stop. It takes an effort to keep the mask of indifference. He smiles, this time, and his voice is almost the same as he says, “Am I?”

Tom gets the message. His smirk drops. Good, that means he isn’t dumb. That means Draco wouldn’t have to use obliviate and/or threat to keep his barmy mouth shut. “It’s OK. I’m a second generation squib. But I don’t really have anything to do with your world. It’s just… words fly. Sometimes.”

“I see.”

“You can be Malfoy or anyone else. That’s why people come here, no?”

In answer he dunks the rest of the mug. Tom gives him a nod before going back to his business.

To be Draco Malfoy or anyone else. Anything else. That is why he comes to muggle bars. To have a drink in peace and not hear people whispering behind his back. After everything had fallen down and fell back in, Draco and the rest of the Death Eaters’ offsprings stuck out like mismatched bricks on a painted wall. Sore thumb. Bloody hands. They were people no one wanted to look on, not be responsible for. Sorry for. Aware of.

“There is no telling what they’ll turn out to be,” a man shouted at his trial when the judge acquitted him and all the others.

“It’s not their fault,” someone had replied.

“Not ours either.”

Truth and truth and truth. Things happen, worlds shatter and then glue back together. But there are always people like him. Sticking out, that one ugly face in a perfect painting.

Draco comes here to ignore the blot.

But people come and go and leave their pieces behind, it seems. Draco could do without those pieces, fragments of hope. Draco Malfoy knows better than anyone that hope is shit, empty promises, stories you tell yourself when you were just a kid and the world came in on you so fast it blindsided you. You give hope in sentences such as “One day none of this would matter. And we are nothing, just pieces of meat. And we walk and talk and shit and one day we’ll die and no one will remember us.”

There’s peace in being forgotten. In knowing that no one remembers the shitty mistakes you made.

What is to come?

They talk and sometimes verbally attack one another and Draco tries very very hard not to stare at his lips.

A slide of chair beside him, a whiff of musk. It’s a common scent. It’s a scent men go for when they don’t know much about any of the others, but still he knows all the bases and notes of this particular musk. And the man. Draco tries not to pay attention to the man next to him, even as the scent settles, even as he feels the tightness in his stomach loosen. He can see from the periphery his signature unruly hair. Jet black, unruly, rebellious.

“Hey,” Harry Potter says.

Draco nods in return.

“How long have you been here?”

“Not long.”

Potter orders another pair of beers for the both of them. When it comes and Draco finds the nosey bartender smirking at them as if he knows something, he inwardly curses the gods. Again.

But Potter knows the guy, he smiles when he recognises him. Has a small, delighted chat. And not for the first time, Draco feels the same resentment. How can he be so natural at this - life? Here is the moron Draco Malfoy, struggling to breathe, and Harry fucking Potter saunters through life as if he owns it.

It’s worse because Draco knew how it felt. To be sure of yourself, to be sure that the ground beneath your feet will never crumble, even if you push too hard.

“You fucking know everyone, don’t you?” he seethes at Potter as soon as the boy is out of earshot.

His eyes widen in surprise. “Tom? You should know him too. His grandfather was a -”

“Oh I don’t care.” He takes a sip of the drink. “I need a smoke.”

“They don’t allow that in here.”

“Well then I’m going out. ” He stands up, picks the jacket from the counter and throws it over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

He does. Harry Potter is still the obstinate Gryffindor, but somehow he stays around even when Draco tries with all his might to push him back. He has wanted this for so long that he can’t cope with the idea that he might have a chance at it. He keeps trying to blow the whole thing off. Nightly chat, smiling, being nice to him. He keeps leaking the bad parts of him to scare him off.

But one thing about Harry Potter: He is not scared off easily.

“What’s the matter?” the harebrained asshole asks as Draco leans against the wall.

Draco takes the long awaited drag. “Nothing.”

Potter sits on an empty crate, leaning forward to Draco. He has his legs planted carefully so he wouldn’t get mud on his shoes. The back of the bar is as seedy and carelessly crummy, just as he expected. But he doesn’t mind. The light at the back of the pub is low on electricity, and in the cloudy light, he feels he can finally breathe.

“Yeah, I forgot. You always act like you have a broom up your ass.”

Draco chuckles at the bad humor. He can’t help it.

“At least I look good while brooding.”

“Oh, sod off. You call that brooding?”

“Yes.”

“I call that being a prick. You know they only let you in these bars because of me, right?”

“ Right. ” Draco makes a circle with his lips and carefully, carefully blows out the smoke. Harry keeps his eyes on the blonde guy as it forms the perfect ring, a misty cloud in the dim light.

“I forgot that everyone is obsessed with the Chosen One.”

“Yep.” Potter laughs. “It isn’t just you pining after me, Malfoy.”

The laugh gets stuck at his throat. A glaring hotness in his ears. He stares at Potter and suddenly can’t remember why he’s there. Can’t remember why he waits at crappy bars listening to crappy songs.

He lets the cigarette fall from his grip. He jabs the front of his boot on its light. He doesn’t try to mask the hot anger in his voice.

“I’m done.”

“What - hey!” Potter grabs at his hand as he’s about to leave. Draco tries to jerk it free but the prick is already up, now grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Let me go, Potter,” he seethes.

In answer, his grip gets even tighter. Quite successfully, he corners Draco into the wall. For the first time Draco realises how it feels to have his face so close. For the first time he finds Harry’s green eyes bright with anger. Palpable. Radiating. “Is it because I said it? Because I finally said it?”

“It’s because you’re a prick. Let me go.”

“ You’re the prick!”

“Let me go!”

“Draco -”

Too close now. Harry’s face closes in on him, like a bright, tumultuous force. And Draco can’t look away, can’t breathe without breathing in the musk and cold breath and… Jesus fuck. He wants to beat Harry Potter into a pulp, make a mess of that pretty face. He wants to leave his mark on him, any mark at that point. Draco fears that he’ll forever associate desire with violence, because that’s what it seems. You call something ugly enough times and it becomes just that.

Draco wants to beat him to a pulp for forcing the truth in his face, but instead he kisses him.

His mouth falls onto Harry’s with such force for a moment all he can feel is how chapped his lips are, and how numb. He thinks of pulling back, just for a moment, but then Harry leans in, his hand finds Draco’s face and his finger brushes over his jaw and Draco tilts his face. And it’s like a puzzle piece, like the last word to a long-lost incantation, their mouths cement on each other and there’s the tenderness, his smile, the gold flakes in his eyes. Draco’s hands finally find something to hold on to, he captures Harry’s face as his tongue pushes past his lips and he moans, almost chokes on his air. Draco tastes the beer. Tastes the cheap cigarettes. Potter pushes his legs apart so he can settle between them, presses his mouth with more determination and they kiss for what it seems like eternity.

Another thing about Harry Potter: He tastes just as Draco imagined he would.

Harry gasps as they pull apart. His hands finally let go of Draco’s face and he falls back, slightly. The hands that left his face left their marks, Draco feels his cheeks blistering. And as he sees the other guy barely retaining gravity - capricious gravity - he feels, not for the first time, entirely preposterous.

Harry speaks first. “Well, that was -”

“Quite.”

“Quite something.” He takes a step back, sits back on the upturned crate.

Draco can’t stop eyeing his lips, chapped and shiny. “Do your folks know?”

“Ron and Hermione and Ginny. Yours?”

Draco could never forget the day he told his mother. His father rots in Azkaban, there was no reason to torment him further and let him know that Draco is the same disappointment as he had been. His mother cried helplessly. He can still feel the burning shame, as prominent as it had been since he was fifteen. Since he realised just why Pansy never did it for him. She was smart and funny and just like him… only not. No one was like him.

Until. Until Harry Potter came up one day in a seedy bar and said, as if it were the most obvious thing, “We’re the same.”

And what was Draco supposed to make of that? Was he supposed to know that Albus Dumbledore played him like chess just as his parents did him? Was he supposed to know that Harry was always lonely, bone-deep, cotton-picking lonely? Was he supposed to know Harry was obsessed with him all the time he felt the same? Was he supposed to know that he wanted to kiss Draco?

Draco doesn’t recognise his voice as he says, “You said we’re the same.”

He shrugs, the moron.

“Don’t you hate yourself?”

He narrows his eyes. “No. Why should I?”

There’s that Gryffindor-esque haughtiness. Draco has a list made of reasons why. He has dutifully reminded himself of them ever since he could remember. God, society, his family, his blood, all the things he is betraying. All the things his mother didn’t name but were there, between them, have been there since.

“It’s not normal,” Narcissa said, “I never thought you’d be like this.”

“Like what, mother,” his voice was calm despite the tremon down his spine. “Gay?”

“You’re the last of the Malfoys.”

“I’m your son . Look at me, mother.”

“I can’t. I can’t.”

She cried and didn’t look at him. Hasn’t since. Broken hearts are hardly kind. Draco hasn’t found it in himself to be kind either.

A question from Potter snaps him back to the present scene. He asks, softly, “Do you hate yourself?”

Draco shrugs. He thinks it’s obvious.

“You moron.”

Draco doesn’t answer, can’t find his voice to answer. He wants to tell Potter that it’s the most natural thing. Hate chases him like a magnet, a squeeze of lime after a shot. He wants to say desire can be ugly if you convince yourself enough, if you repeat in your head over and over again. He wants to tell Harry that he has been obsessed with him for long that he can’t pinpoint the moment it went so out of line.

“I hated you for so long,” Draco whispers. But he doesn’t mean that. What he wants to say is that hate is a lot like love, and if you are young and ignorant and ignorantly vain, you can morph your awe into rivalry. You can blur the lines.

“You didn’t hate me.” Harry chuckles. “We were supposed to be rivals. So that’s what we were.”

“I almost got you killed. You and your friends.”

“You also saved our lives.”

Draco sighs. His heart is constricted into an angry fist. He purses his lips and can taste him again, beer and smoke. He doesn’t know what to say, how to go on, how to be alright with this unnatural warmth this moron brings to his chest.

Harry smiles, softly. And Draco remembers how his father said that tenderness is the mark of a weak man. Men are steel and ice and ivory, anything else is worthless. But tenderness looks so good on Harry Potter, feels so good to kiss and take his due. He conjures another empty crate and sits beside him.

“You know what the first goddamn moment was?” Harry asks, “When I realized something was amiss?”

“Can’t imagine.”

“It was you eating that fucking apple.”

Draco chuckles despite himself, “W-what?”

“In Hagrid’s class. We were thirteen.”

“What?”

Harry sighs. “Embarrassing, I know. I hated you for such a long time. I mean, not hate, but you know - and suddenly you’re eating this freaking apple, of all things… and all I wanted to do is taste it off from you.”

The breath that leaves him is half choked on itself. “The apple.” Then the laughter comes as another memory presses on himself. His father in their library, him sitting in front of him on the floor.

“My father used to teach me muggle myths,” he says, his voice soft like mist in the cold air. “One of them was of the forbidden fruit. God supposedly forbade the first man and woman to eat that. But they did. And that tipped this ridiculous god over the edge. He banished them from heaven and hence they came to this shitty place we live… All for eating that fruit.”

Harry laughs. “And that’s an apple, I presume?”

Draco glaces at the guy from the corner of his eyes. He still feels the kiss, the scent of musk imprinted on his mind. He knows it’s going to take time for him to not look at the other guy as if he’s stealing a glance. Not feel like he’s doing something he shouldn’t. But Draco likes terrible challenges, he likes to put himself on the test. And fail and fail and hope the next time would be different.

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” Draco replies, taking Harry’s hand.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #angst #angst and comfort #one shot #fanfiction #a whole lotta angst #drarry #drarry one shot #writing #draco is struggling #harry is the best #hp #hp fanfic #fanfic #hp fandom #canon divergence post battle of hogwarts #canon divergence

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finestyles28 · 2 years

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I could watch this on repeat forever, truly stunning 💚

#harry styles #harry styles is beautiful #harrystylesisgolden #i love harry styles #music #harry styles is an angel #one direction #harry house #harry is art #harry is the best

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charlotlie · 9 months

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bitches be like “this is the best piece of literature i have ever read” and it’s either a book that took them six weeks to finish or a fanfic they read at 3 AM

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mylittleredgirl · 2 years

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the thing about cracking open a long-established popular ship tag on ao3 is that it allows you to be extraordinarily picky, and i think it must be the closest thing i will ever experience to being filthy rich. i scroll along at super speed like no today i am only interested in fics with this precise range of words and one of these three tags. only authors i’ve heard of, please. hmm, i suppose i could consider an unknown quantity given its apparent popularity with the people, but… no, no, this summary doesn’t do it for me. no particular reason, it’s just… eh, i don’t need to explain myself. bring me 50 more like this for me to choose from and we’ll see.

#the modern day evolution of the dicks doth touch bard is a harried personal shopper #on fanfic #anyway i’m like 20 pages deep into the sam/jack tag by kudos and continuing to live my best life #i can’t even imagine how picky some of y’all get to be #ao3

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toorumlk · 12 days

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i just like drawing them being best friends

#harry potter #harry james potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #and oh were they the best of friends #i love them so much i hope you can tell #golden trio #the golden trio #golden trio era #harry potter fanart #hp fanart #my art #procreate #artists on tumblr

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quail-in-red · 2 months

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trope mashup, what a joy! 16 and 61?

Prison AU + Love Confession!

A patronus is basically a love confession, right??

Trope mashups!

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry fanart #trope mashups #Harry doing his best SpongeBob face

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freedomfireflies · 21 days

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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

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u3pxx · 1 month

Text

KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.

EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!

- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!

- “Sure is.”

DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?

YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could��ve driven it into the uh…”

DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!

YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”

KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.

INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.

ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.

HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!

VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.

KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”

YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”

LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.

KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”

YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”

YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”

KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."

He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”

EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.

YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.

YOU - “…”

KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.

YOU - “Kim?”

KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.

YOU - “KIM!!!!”

uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt

(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)

also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #den's disco swap #disco elysium role swap #HI nobody look at the fact that. i am a novice writer at best DFGHJFGH #i had idea for some comic dialogue but it ended up being this instead whoops. i mean i could still draw this as a comic #anyways. i was like. trying to reverse engineer my idea of how kim can change into his bomber jacket instead of his uniform.#which. i dont think you can do with just simple convincing bc that thing is fused to him in spirit so there has to be like a good reason wh #oh it gets ruined! how? it gets like wet or smth! how'd that happened? he threw himself into the sea #also isnt it fitting that my memory problems is making me not remember the things that happen in disco elysium very well wheezes #so whoops if the characterization is a lil off lmaoooooo #but i have been trying to figure out how i want harry to be in this swap au #i dont think he's as well as he wants you to believe he is. and just the image of him pushing this 'youre allowed to be in denial about +#this' to kim about the kineema was so vivid in my head and idk if that tracks but hell. its in there now dfghdjfg #starry don't look #sunnysidedraws #sunnysidedisco

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cloudybarnes · 6 months

Text

bad idea right?

Pairing: theodore nott x reader

Summary: after theo breaks up with you, he pledges to make things right and do anything necessary to win you back. however, you are determined to make him work if he wants to win you over again aka part two to new beginnings

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist

a/n: LONG AWAITED PART TWO WOOHOOOO also this could be read as a solo instead of a part two if you really wanted, but here's part one in case you wanna read that as well ;)

✰ ✰ ✰

“Please don’t tell me you got back together with him!” Ginny groaned. She sat on the edge of your bed as Hermione braided your hair for the night.

“No, I didn’t get back with him. I told him if he really wanted to prove it to me, then he could.”

“So you’re thinking of getting back with him.” She said disapprovingly. Hermione chuckled from her seat in the bed behind you. She was working on doing dutch braids in your hair.

“I think it’s fine, Gin,” Hermione said. “It’s not as if she’s going to jump back in bed with him.”

You waggled your eyebrows teasingly to Ginny. She gasped and swatted your shoulder. “That’s so not funny, (Y/N/N). Just because you think he’s sexy doesn’t mean you should get back with him.”

Theodore broke up with you very unexpectedly. He barely even had a reason for breaking up with you, which left you heartbroken and devastated. You were in bed for a few days, had a good cry, and then you were back.

Theo had tried to mend the broken bond between your relationship, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to take him back that easily. Your ego was high, and you knew you would be kicking yourself if something like that happened again right when you took him back.

“Don’t worry, Ginny. If he really wants me back, he’s gonna have to work for it. He knows that.”

“Alright,” Hermione said as she tied off the end of your hair. “All finished. Your hair’s gonna look so good tomorrow.”

“Theo better be drooling when you see him,” Ginny said, “if not, I’ll give him a different reason to drool.” She made a motion of punching her fists together, insinuating she would punch him in the mouth.

You chuckled. “Hopefully there won’t be any blood drawn. I don’t think he’d really wanna go through all the trouble if it just got him a busted lip.”

“Oh no,” Ginny grinned, “it would be more than just a busted lip. I’ve got five brothers, I’m known to throw a mean punch or two.”

“Lights out girls!” The prefect yelled as she knocked on your bedroom door.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’ll see you guys at breakfast. But for real, if Theo tries anything you know I’m right there for you.”

You smiled, grateful to have a friend as awesome as her. “Yeah, Gin, I know. Thank you.”

She smiled, “night guys.”

You two said your good nights as Hermione moved from your bed to her own.

“What do you think he’ll do tomorrow?” You asked Hermione as she shut off the lights. You pulled the covers close to your body, waiting for her response.

“I’m not sure,” she replied, getting comfy in her own bed. “Hopefully something sweet. He’s got a lot of making up to do if he wants to get back on our good side.”

You smiled softly, “yeah, you’re right. Night, ‘Mione.”

“Goodnight.”

✰ ✰ ✰

The next morning at breakfast, the owl dropped a letter in front of you.

“What’s that?” Ron asked, his mouth filled with food.

Ginny slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. Honestly, you act like you were raised in a barn.”

“We were raised in the same house, you know.” He pointed.

“What a shame that was,” she replied.

You chuckled at their banter, and ripped open the seal on the letter.

“What’s it say?” Hermione asked.

You scanned over the words before you read them aloud. “It says,

(Y/N),

I hope you know how much you mean to me. I was a fool to break things off with you. I only hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.

Forever yours,

Theo”.

“Forever yours?” Ginny squealed. “That is so romantic.”

Hermione raised her brow quizzically. “Weren’t you the one telling her not to get back with him?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I can have mixed feelings about this. He breaks her heart but then he writes her a love letter. It’s got me confused, okay?”

You chuckled. “I think it’s cute. It’s not gonna win me back, but it was an alright effort.”

“Oooh, what a burn,” Harry chuckled. “Poor bloke must’ve forgot how stubborn you are.”

You shook your head with a smile, “nah, he didn’t forget. If I know anything about Theo, he’s just getting started.”

“So, (Y/N/N),” Ron said, “do you want to get back with him or what’s going on with this?”

You shrugged. “I mean, obviously I still love him. It just sucks what he did and I don’t think he should be able to get off the hook that easily. He shouldn’t be forgiven for breaking my heart just because he writes a little letter.”

“I love you for that,” Ginny said as she nodded her head.

“Hey, (Y/N/N).”

Looking behind you, you could see Enzo give a sheepish smile and a small wave.

You grinned, “Hey Enzo, how are you? Sorry about yesterday, by the way, Theo’s a little crazy sometimes.”

He chuckled and awkwardly rubbed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But, yeah, no, Theo and I are all good. He apologized last night and told me all about his plans to woo you.”

You chuckled with a roll of your eyes. “Go figure.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “anyway, I just wanted to come by and resume how we were before, you know, the whole break up thing, and drop off this book I think you’ll like.”

Enzo pulls out a book from his satchel and hands it to you.

“Coraline?” You asked as you flip it around and skim over the synopsis.

“Yeah, it’s kind of spooky and psychological which I think you’ll really enjoy.”

You grinned up at him, “that’s perfect. Thank you, Enzo.”

He sent a tight lipped smile, and nodded before turning away and walking back to the slytherin table.

“I like Enzo,” Ginny said with a dreamy look on her face.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Go get him then. He’s a sweetie.”

“You guys and those Slytherin boys,” Ron shakes his head with a scoff. “Not even that cute, I’ll tell ya.”

“Oh, what?” Ginny asked sassily, “like you’re cute?”

“I think Ron’s cute,” Hermione winked at her boyfriend.

“Ugh, barf,” Ginny said.

The bell rang. You all stood to gather your things for first class.

“We’ll see you guys later,” you smiled as Hermione and you walked out to your shared first class.

“That was a pretty cute letter,” Hermione said as the two of you started walking down the hall.

“Yeah, I think it was sweet, but like I said, he can’t win me back that eas-“

“Excuse me?” Someone tapped your shoulder.

Stopping, you and Hermione turned to see a younger Slytherin boy, presumably a first year, standing before you.

“Uh, yes?” You asked confused, “do you need help with something?”

“Um, Theodore says I have to carry your satchel and books for you.” The first year stood awkwardly.

“Oh, uh, that’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You blushed, a little embarrassed that Theo would make a first year cater to you.

“I have to.” He said adamantly. “Theodore said he’ll set me up with this hot girl I like if I carry your books for you.”

Hermione snickered from next to you. You turned back to her, a bewildered smile on your face as you tried not to laugh.

“Well,” you said as you handed the young boy your satchel. “I can’t be the one to stop your true love, now can I?”

The boy grinned as he held on to your satchel as well as his.

“Theodore is crazy,” Hermione remarks as you continue walking to your next class. The boy followed behind the two of you all the way to your first period.

As soon as your classroom came into view, you could see Theodore standing there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. He grinned a devilish thing as he saw you approach.

“I’ll meet you in there,” Hermione said with a knowing smirk.

You walked up to Theo. He was beautiful as ever, but even he knew that wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“Hi (Y/N).” He smiled at you then turned to the kid. “I’ll take it from here. I’ll have my guys put in a good word with Maizy for you.”

The kid nodded his head and smiled as he ran off.

Theo threw your satchel over his shoulder and held out the beautiful assortment of flowers towards you. “For you, to say I’m sorry for being a douchebag and an idiot and a stupid motherfucker. All in the words of Draco by the way. Never knew how much he liked us together.”

You chuckled and grabbed the flowers out of Theo’s hand. “Thank you.”

He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, have you thought about what I said yesterday?”

You sighed. “Of course I’ve thought about it Theo. Just like I’ve thought about how much you broke my heart when you dumped me.”

“Okay, I deserved that.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Thank you for the flowers, Theo. And… I still care about you, I just need time to figure this all out. I can’t just forgive you that fast when you broke my heart, just last week!”

Theo sighed, “I know. I know! Fuck! I know I fucked up, baby, but I am going to do everything I can to win you back. I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait as long as it takes, baby, I swear it to do. The boys are down my back yelling at me for how hard I screwed everything up. They think I’m stupid, and I think I’m stupid too for letting you go. I promise you, I will do everything it takes for you to trust me again, mi amore.”

Your eyes softened. Theo knew exactly how to make your heart soar.

“Theo…”

“No, baby,” he shook his head. “You take your time. I’m gonna be here whenever you decide if you want to forgive me or not. Hopefully you decide you do want to forgive me.” He chuckled awkwardly.

You matched his awkward laugh. “Well, thanks again for the flowers. They’re very pretty.”

Theo smiled and nodded before turning around and walking away.

✰ ✰ ✰

Later that night, you sat in the library studying for your Herbology final. Ginny and Hermione offered to help you study, but you knew you’d be here too late to want to burden them.

As you flipped through the pages of your herbology book, you tried your best to take down any notes that you thought would be important.

Your stomach growled.

“Knew that was inevitable.”

When you looked up from your textbook, you could see Theo sheepishly smiling as he held two trays from the cafeteria.

“What was?” You asked with a smile. You cleared some papers to make space for Theo to sit down.

He grinned and placed the trays on the table as he took his seat next to you.

“Knew you would forget to eat while you studied for this exam.”

You chuckled and peered over to see what Theo brought you to eat. Ham, potatoes, and stuffing from the dining hall.

“Thank you, Theo. That’s really sweet of you.”

He slid a tray closer to you, and you eagerly picked up the provided fork and dug in.

Theo chuckled as you scarfed down your food. “Pretty hungry?”

You nodded as you finished chewing. Theo smiled to himself and started to take a few bites of his potatoes.

“You’re being awfully sweet to me, Theo.”

“Haven't I always been sweet to you, darling?”

“Well, yes. But that was before.”

Theo sighed. “I know I screwed up royally. I’m trying to make up for my mistakes. I’m still the same boy I was just a few months ago. I had a lapse in judgment and that cost me the best thing in my life.”

You frowned. “Theo…”

“Don’t you miss me, (Y/N/N)?” Theo shifted to face you straight on. He nervously leaned forward on the table, staring into your eyes, waiting for your response.

“…of course I miss you, Theo. How could I not? You’re everything to me, and I’m just so scared of something like that happening again.”

“(Y/N),” Theo started. He tentatively grabbed your hands in his. “I promise you, with everything in me, if you decide to take me back I will never hurt you or disappoint you ever again. You have my word mi amore.”

You were conflicted. You miss Theo like crazy. You couldn’t help it. No matter what you said to your friends about him having to work hard for you, it tore you apart every time you saw him knowing you still weren’t together. You missed being his.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay?” Theo’s face lit up. “You-you’re giving me another chance?”

“Yeah,” you softly smiled, “I miss my boy.”

Theo grinned and yanked you toward him, engulfing you in a hug—one you’ve been waiting days for. You missed him. You missed being held by him.

You held around his neck tightly, scared to let go. You never realize how much you craved his touch when it was gone.

Theo buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. “God, I’ve missed you.”

You smiled and pulled back. Theo smiled back at you. Slowly, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his in a warm, longing kiss. Your hands rested on his cheeks, his on your waist as you kissed with all the love stored up between you.

When he pulled away, Theo stayed close with his forehead rested against yours. “I promise you baby, I’m here for good.”

“You better be.”

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