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#harry x you friends
freedomfireflies · 3 months
Text
Infinite You*
Summary: The one where Harry is in an open relationship with your best friend, and maybe you have more in common than you realized.
(Based on this request! There is no third, just Harry and Reader!)
Word Count: 8.6k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Sir Kink
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You’ve never noticed how incredibly attractive Harry Styles is.
Granted, that’s because you’ve never really allowed yourself to notice how attractive he is, but you notice today because that’s why you’re here. To notice. To study. To decide if this is worth it.
He’s not making it easy on you. Walking around the apartment with his shirt off, and his sweatpants low, and his hair wet. Reaching into the refrigerator and showcasing all the stunningly hard muscles in his back. The scattered tattoos. The chunky rings on his fingers.
You swallow.
You hadn’t planned to entertain this idea. You thought it was weird—strange in more ways than one. But you agreed to talk to him, see if it was a good fit, and now…here you are.
“So,” he calls as he straightens up and turns to face you. “What do you wanna know?”
“Uh…what do you want to tell me?” you call back. You wish you were smoother.
But he only smirks. He knows you’re nervous. And he knows you’re staring, which seems to amuse him. “Well, first things first, nothing happens that you don’t want.”
He’s kind. Considerate. Hot. It makes your stomach flip.
“Okay,” you say before swallowing thickly. “Great, I mean. That’s…that’s good.”
He walks back to the living room. He’s still amused. You’re still sweating. “If you do decide you want to, we can talk about ground rules and boundaries. Decide what you’re comfortable with. Go over when and where. Things like that.”
“Okay…okay, good.”
“Yeah. And if we don’t want to, we won’t.”
“Right.”
He takes a sip of his water. He’s hiding his smile. “Do you have any questions for me?”
You purse your lips and shake your head. “Nope.”
He’s unconvinced. Hesitating a moment before crouching down near your legs and glancing up at you as though to implore you and chastise you all with the same look. 
“Kitten,” he murmurs, and your heart just about beats out of your chest. “If we’re going to do this, I need you to be honest with me. That’s one of my rules. I need you to be vocal. Tell me exactly what you want and what you don’t.”
And you understand. You do. Consent isn’t a question. And you admire that he’s so adamant and unwavering. But that doesn’t mean you know what you want to say.
“I know,” you whisper, and his presence is different. Before, he was Harry: Rebecca’s boyfriend.
Now he’s Harry: the guy you might sleep with.
And it’s strange, and it’s new, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense. And you’re having quite the time trying to wrap your head around it.
But his presence is soothing. Calm. Doing more for your nerves than you initially realized. 
“It’s okay,” he whispers back, reaching a hand toward your knee. Long fingers squeezing it once. Comfort. “We’re just talking, yeah?”
You nod and force the first question out of your throat. “Do you…do you guys do this a lot?”
“No,” he answers coolly. He’s relaxed, and it helps. “Not with friends. Not really at all. Not unless it’s right. We don’t force it. If we find someone, we find someone.”
“Ah.” You nod again like you understand but you don’t. “And…you guys are both okay with this? Really?”
He smiles. Squeezes your knee again. “Yes. As long as you are.”
You smile back, and you realize your heart isn’t racing as much anymore. “Right. And…you don’t think this is weird? I mean…her pimping you out just to help me?”
He laughs, and you decide right then and there that you love the sound of his laugh. “No, I don’t,” he admits. “She’s not pimping me out. I offered.”
You lean back. “You offered?”
“She told me you weren’t having a good time with the guys you were meeting, and I said I could help.” He shrugs once. He’s so calm. “She liked the idea and told me she’d bring it to you.”
And you remember when she did. Remember how casually she’d said, “If you ever wanna use Harry…you’re more than welcome to.”
And you’d blinked at her because you couldn’t understand it at all. 
But she explained, “He and I have always been in an open relationship. And if you need a bit of…practice or just need someone to scratch that itch, I think he’d be really good. You could talk to him, see what you think?”
You were sure she was messing with you. You weren’t desperate and horny enough to go fucking her boyfriend, but she was more than all right with it. She assured you of that many times. Suggested you just talk to him and see how it made you feel. She gave you his number. You made a time to meet.
And now here you are, wondering if you really are about to go through with it.
“You…you want to help?” you ask him again, and he nods. 
“If you want me to.” Another squeeze to your knee. “Kitten, there’s no pressure here. It’s just a conversation. And if we decide no, then we won’t, and it’ll be all right.”
“But it’s…I mean, won’t it be like cheating?” Your hands begin to twist together on your lap. “What if you regret it? Or what if she regrets it?”
“We won’t. We agreed to this,” he says, and he’s still so calm. “This only works if she and I are honest. We know that. And we want to try new things, new people. Plus, she adores you. I do, too. But if you think it feels like cheating, then we don’t have to. We can end the conversation right now.”
A beat. He lets this settle.
“But if you want to try,” he continues softly, “then we’ll ease into it. We’ll go at a pace you’re comfortable. Yeah? This is all up to you.”
You feel your cheeks growing warm. He’s so good. “What if I’m not any good? And you’ve wasted your time? And I made this weird for no reason?”
He smiles, and his eyes are like meadows. Soft and serene. He straightens up just enough to brush his thumb along your chin and relax you. 
“There is no possible world where you aren’t good,” he murmurs, and somehow…you believe him. “But if you’re nervous, we’ll plan for that, too. We’ll communicate. I can help you find what makes you feel good.”
You walked into his apartment—into their apartment—sure you wouldn’t be doing it. Sure that there was no way you’d ever believe this to be a good idea.
But here you are, seriously considering it. Teetering on the edge of agreement, ready to fall into his arms.
“Are you sure you want to?” you ask him again. “Are you sure you don’t just feel bad for me?”
His brows pinch together, and he seems confused. But he’s still smiling. “Kitten, believe me. There is nothing I have ever wanted to do more. Sex is intimate and it’s tricky and it’s confusing. And you should only ever be with someone that makes you feel good. Feel safe. And if I can be that person for you, then I want to be. As long as you want me to be, too.”
And you do. You do. You aren’t sure if you even realized how badly until now.
You nod, and his touch lowers. “Okay,” you decide. “Okay, I want to.”
He does his best not to appear too excited, but you can see it there behind his grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You straighten your shoulders. “If…I mean, it’s just once, right? We do this, it’s over, we all go back to how it was before, and we don’t talk about it.”
Another beat. “If that’s what you want.”
“Oh, it is,” you assure him with a soft scoff. “No, I’m already gonna have a hard time looking you in the eye. And Rebecca. This is…it’s just…it’s weird.”
He drops his hand to your knee and squeezes it once more. “We don’t have to do this—”
“No, I do want to,” you assure him. “I really do, I just…it is weird. Maybe a good weird, but still weird. And I’m okay with that. I just…I want to, and we can, and then we don’t have to talk about it. Okay?”
 He nods. “Okay.”
The living room grows quiet. You aren’t sure what to do now. You aren’t sure if you’ve offended him. You don’t think he ever gets offended. He never has before. As Rebecca’s Harry.
But today he is Just Harry and Just Harry is very calm as he waits for you to continue.
You swallow again. “So…now what?”
“You tell me.” He stands, and you’re eye-level with his bare, toned stomach. 
“Uh…okay.” You shift. “Do…you wanna do it tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Do…do you wanna do it at my place?”
“Sure.”
“Do…I need to pick up…condoms?”
He smiles. “I’ve got some I’ll bring.” He nods at you. “And I’m clean, too. Got tested right after she told me.”
God, this is all so real. “Good. I did, too. Not that there was really much…chance. Since it’s been, like…three years.”
He doesn’t have a reaction to this admission. Most guys do. They think it’s weird you’ve been so long without sex. They think you’re a virgin again. They don’t want anything to do with you.
Harry has no reaction. He doesn’t seem disappointed, or relieved, or embarrassed for you, or even repulsed. 
“Good,” is all he says before running a hand through his damp curls. “What time would you like me to meet you?”
“Uh…5? No…7?” You wince. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but…if it’s just a few minutes, then—”
“A few minutes?” Now he’s amused. “Is that all you think I can last?”
Your expression drops. “I…no. No, I just…I don’t know. Most guys tap out after a bit, so I figured—”
“Kitten,” he chuckles, and the sound goes straight to your cunt. “I plan to last as long as you’ll let me.”
Your stomach drops next. “Uh…okay. Great. Then…5?”
“Five,” he repeats, and you’re thrilled. Nervous. Thrilled. “We can talk more about what we want when we get there, yeah?”
You nod. “Sure. That’s…good. That’s good.”
He smiles, and just like that…the date is set.
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4:58 comes and you’re a nervous wreck. He’s already here—you’ve just buzzed him in—and now he’s walking up your steps. And you are standing in your kitchen, pacing, tugging on your robe, and trying not to sweat. Again.
When you let him in, he’s…breathtaking. Somehow, in the few short hours since you last saw him, he got exponentially hotter. 
His hair is dry, and his curls are styled in a way that makes you want to run your hands through them. He’s wearing a shirt, but it’s oversized and soft. Easy to slip out of. His jeans are ripped but they hug his hips perfectly.
He’s…sex. He’s beautiful. He’s stunning, and you are so incredibly nervous, you don’t know what to do with yourself.
“Hi,” he smiles as he slips off his shoes and shuts your door. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No, you’re not,” you argue quickly. “You’re perfect. You’re—fuck. No, you’re…this is good.”
He laughs and lets his eyes trail down your covering. “Are you…did I interrupt something, or—”
“No. No, sorry. I, uh…I figured this would be easier,” you explain, now absentmindedly playing with the tie. “You know, I could just slip this off, and we could go.”
He hums, but you can tell he’s biting his tongue. “I see. And…is that how you’d like to proceed? You just want to rip the band-aid?”
“Um…” Shit, do you? “I don’t…know. I was kind of hoping you could tell me.”
He nods now and asks for your hand. You give it to him—rather shyly—before allowing him to lead you toward your sofa. He sits you both down and brings your attention to him.
“I will do whatever you want me to do,” he begins. “But…I’d like to know what you really want. What you fantasize about, what makes you feel good. When you’re with someone, or when you picture being with someone, what are they doing? What are you doing?”
You feel your face grow warm. You can’t believe you’re having this conversation with him, and yet…he feels so safe. You trust him. You don’t mind admitting some of your weirder preferences. After all, Rebecca has told you before about what he’s like in bed. He’s…good. Very good. And into some weirder things, too. 
And maybe now you understand why she was so happy for you to ask him.
“I…I guess I like…to be taken care of,” you admit quietly, instantly glancing down at your lap to avoid his reaction.
But just as quickly, he’s slipping a finger under your chin and bringing your eyes back to his. “Yeah, Kitten?”
Your stomach wrenches. You nod.
“Tell me more,” he encourages gently. 
You fumble with your robe again. “Uh…I don’t really like…to make decisions. A lot of times. I…I feel better if I’m being told what to do.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Okay. I can do that. What else, baby?”
Baby. You think you might die. “Um…I think I like it rough. Or…rougher. Like…spanking, and…hair pulling, and choking…and stuff.”
He’s so entertained by your timid demeanor, and he chuckles again as he squeezes your jaw. “Is that right? D’you want me to spank you, Kitten?”
You really might die. “I…yes? I think so?”
“I need you to do more than think,” he says now, a bit firmer. “When I ask, I expect a clear answer. Is that understood?”
You nod, and you don’t even realize.
“So do you want me to spank you?”
“…yes. I do.”
“Good girl.” He brushes his thumb along your lips, and your mouth parts for him. “What else? What kind of positions do you like? Do you have any particular porn you like to watch?”
You look back down at your lap, and he smirks. “I…I don’t really watch it as much as…I read it.”
“Oh?” He dips down, looking for your attention. “You like to read it, baby? What do you like to read?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Just…just smut.”
“Yeah? Tell me about it.”
And you’re so embarrassed, yet somehow so enamored, and you tell him before you can stop yourself. “Just…sometimes it’s rough. And…taboo. And…dangerous, I guess.”
He hums again, considering this. “Like to be naughty when you’re alone, don’t you?”
And you feel like you’re on fire, burying your face in your hands with a soft groan until he immediately tugs them back down. 
“Uh-uh,” he warns, and goosebumps dance down your skin from where he’s touching you. “What did I say, hm? None of that. Come on.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just…I’m so nervous.”
Another soft smile as he cups your cheek and scoots closer. He’s everywhere. You can smell him, you can feel him. You can practically taste him and it leaves you with this insatiable need for more.
“I know,” he says calmly. “But it’s just me, yeah? You’ve known me forever. You know I’d never want to hurt you or scare you or embarrass you. And I’d never judge you.”
“I know,” you echo. “This is just all so…real.”
He hums and seems to consider something. Then, he nods his chin at you. “I wanna try something. Would that be all right?”
You swallow. “Okay.”
“Close your eyes.”
Your lashes flutter. “What?”
“Close your eyes. Just for a minute.”
So, you do. And the living room falls eerily quiet as you wait for whatever instruction might come next. 
But it never comes. He has no instruction. He’s quiet.
And then…
He’s kissing you.
Soft lips ghost across your own. They tease and they taunt. You can’t see him, but you can feel him—can taste him. He’s kissing you, and he’s taking your mouth against his, and he’s so…he’s so.
And not being able to see him does wonders. Because you lose all inhibitions and simply take. You accept what he’s offering and you delight in doing so.
He was right.
You grow hungrier—needier. You let your hands find his shoulders and hoist yourself up onto your knees. In turn, he takes hold of your hips to keep you steady and helps bring you onto his lap. It’s like you’re one. Like you’ve rehearsed this, done it a million times. A fluid, lustful, heavy dance that ends with pants and whispers of each other’s names.
And you forget how strange this might be. You forget your hesitations and your concerns. You allow yourself to have him and to enjoy it.
And it’s perfect.
When you finally open your eyes, you feel much braver. Ready to do what he came here to do.
His cheeks are flushed. His lips are pink and slightly swollen. His pupils are dilated and he’s wearing the softest grin—like a warm sweater. 
“Please?” you whisper, and his Adam’s apple bobs.
“Where?” he asks.
“Bedroom.” It might sound like a demand, but you’ve never felt so submissive. “Please, Harry—”
He picks you up. Carries you down the hall and toward your bed. He’s been here before, seen it a hundred times when he and Rebecca would come over for movie nights or dinners. 
But it’s different now and you both know it. He treats your space with reverence. Treats you with reverence. Awe. You are…everything to him in this moment. He makes you the center of his world, the focus of his attention.
And you have to remind yourself not to fall in love with him.
He drops you onto the mattress with care but just a bit of roughness. Exactly the way you like.
He follows after you. Slots his body between your thighs and brings his lips back to yours. You kiss until you feel dizzy. It’s quick and eager and tantalizing. He moves to your neck while your fingers move for his shirt.  He nips at your throat and you fumble with the hem. And he only stops kissing you so you can slip the shirt over his head and toss it toward the floor.
You’ve seen his body before—saw it just today. But now it’s here, in your hands, in your bed, in your room. And it’s glorious. Tan, strong, firm. Covered in tattoos that make you want to drool and rippling with muscles you didn’t even know someone could have.
You want to gaze but he’s already back on your neck, sucking bruises below your ear. And then…his hand is on your thigh.
You’re tempted to freeze—to be reminded of how odd the situation—but you don’t allow yourself to succumb to the overthinking.  You enjoy the feeling of his fingers moving up toward your robe. You enjoy the way they play with the tie as if teasing you. And you enjoy the warmth of his palm as he whispers, “May I?”
You nod until you get a headache. Practically flinging the robe open for him. 
He’s gentle as he pulls it undone. Considerate as he pushes it back and reveals your naked body to him. 
And there you are. Bare before your best friend’s boyfriend and it’s…
It’s…
Not nearly as strange as it should be.
His expression softens like your nakedness hurts him. In the best way. He groans and he stares and he parts his lips as if dying to take you in his mouth.
And who are you to deny him?
You nod again, allowing him to do whatever he might like, and he’s grateful. So very grateful for you as he guides the robe away from your body, disposes of it, and dives in.
He kisses from your shoulder to your chest. From your chest to your tits. To the valley between and down your stomach. He is practiced, he is patient, he is beautiful. And he feels like heaven.
“Harry,” you nearly whimper, eyes falling shut as you settle back onto the bed.
He squeezes your hips so you know he heard you. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just lay still for me, Kitten, okay?”
He’s telling you what to do. You listen. 
He pulls your legs apart and scoots back. He wants to taste you. You can see that he wants nothing more. But he stops to look up at you. Wanting permission. Wanting to hear you say that he’s allowed and that you want it, too.
“Yes,��� you manage to choke out. “Yes, go. It’s fine.”
He rubs his thumbs along your skin to soothe you. “Can you do something for me, baby?”
Anything, anything, anything.
“Want you to grab my hair,” he tells you. “Want you to pull it, yank it, whatever. Want you to show me what feels good. Yeah?”
“Okay,” you agree breathily. “Promise.”
He grins and it’s all teeth. He returns his kisses to you. He starts at your bent knee. He goes down your inner thigh. He travels across your hip.
And finally…finally.
He’s gentle with your clit at first. A few kisses, just to prepare you. Getting a feel for your body, letting you get a feel for his mouth. For his face between your legs.
You bring a shaky hand to his hair and card your fingers through, fulfilling your vow. His hair feels good against your palm. Like butter. You gather him in your fist and tug.
His lashes flutter in response. He hums again—louder. You can feel it against your pussy and it makes your toes curl.
His hands keep you from bucking up, but he seems pleased when you try. He likes that you feel good. He likes that he gets to use his power to keep you still. 
“Har…Harry,” you whimper, and he groans again. He likes the sound of his name in your mouth. “Shit—”
He slaps your hip. A warning. “Good girls don’t use bad language. Do they?”
No. You shake your head. Your heart is racing. “Please…”
He’s happy again. Moving his mouth down your cunt until he can taste the beginnings of your arousal beginning to gather. “You’re so good for me, Kitten. You know that? Being so well behaved.”
You love his praise. You always have. Winning his approval means the world, and now, in this moment, it means that much more. You want to make him happy. To please him. To do what he wants. 
You yank on his curls and he seems to melt between your thighs. He moves back to your clit and sucks. Flicks you with his tongue and basks in the sound of your whiny cries. 
“There you go,” he says, and it’s more to himself. “I’ve got you.”
You’re shaking. Overcome by this feeling and by the impending release. It’s really going to happen. Harry is going to make you cum, and you never thought you’d see the day.
He knows you’re close. Knows you can’t fight it and he doesn’t want you to. He steadies his technique. Goes harder, faster. Gives you everything you’re asking for. You are puddy in his hands. Clay for him to mold. You are whatever he wants you to be in this moment and you’re more than all right with that.
He brings a finger to your hole and gently slips it inside. The fullness of such a large digit makes your brain turn to mush and you whimper again as you yank on his hair. He’s pleased.
“That’s what you needed, hm?” He sinks to the knuckle and starts to pump. “Just needed my fingers, yeah?”
“Yes…yes.” He’s so good. So very good.
“I know,” he hums, and it’s almost condescending. He feels bad that you’re so easy. “Take whatever I’ll give you, won’t you?”
You will. He knows it. You know it. If all he did was look at you, you’d feel grateful to be under the warmth of his gaze.
“Tell me, Kitten,” he continues, dragging his tongue up the length of your cunt. From his finger to your clit. “Do the boys in your books do it like this?”
You don’t want to think about your books at a time like this. Not when you have him. Real and here. In your bed. Your clit in his mouth.
“Do they?” he pushes and adds a second finger. How does he expect you to speak? “Hm? Is this what you dream about? When you fuck yourself in this bed? You dream about someone tasting you? Burying their face in your sweet pussy?”
You whimper. You writhe. You cling to his curls and try not to disappear.
“Speak,” he murmurs, and slaps your inner thigh.
You whine again and pant, “Yes.”
“Yes, Sir,” he corrects you, and lifts his head. He’s glistening in you. He’s beautiful. “M’not your friend here, Kitten. I’m the one making you cum. You will remember that.”
And you will. Because he is better than your books. He is considerate, and he is good, and he is making you cum before you can stop yourself. 
Your back arches from the bed. Your chest caves in on itself. Your legs squeeze the sides of his head and he fucking loves it.
He releases your hips so he can grab onto your thighs and press them hard to his cheeks. He wants to suffocate in you. You want to let him.
“Harry—” you gasp. He slaps your leg. “Sir…I…”
You can’t say anything else. He knows. It’s okay. He rides you through. Takes every drop on his tongue. Swallows you down. Feeds on you. Indulges in you. 
Today you are his.
And still, he’s not through. He begins again. He knows you’re sensitive and he knows it won’t be long before you give him another.
He adds a third finger and begins to thrust inside your quivering cunt. He says, “How many times do they make their girls cum?”
You glance down. “What?”
“Your books. Your fantasies. Your dirty smut that gets you off. How many times do they make the girl cum?”
You think. You can’t think. “I…I don’t know—”
“You do,” he argues and nips at your pussy. “Because I bet you wish it was more. I bet you make yourself cum for every time they do. I bet you fuck yourself while you read and pretend that it’s you.”
He’s right. You hate that he’s right. You hate that it’s so obvious.
“How many?” he repeats. “Once? Twice? Do they give up after that? Are they as good as you want them to be?”
You can’t hear him through the pounding in your ear. The second one is close. You’re shaking, trembling, dying. It’s already unraveling. You’re too far gone.
He pumps you through your second and carries right on to your third. “Shame you never called me. Shame you never read your little books and thought to ask me for help. Should’ve known I would have.”
Your cheeks are growing warm again. You’re embarrassed and sensitive to the touch. 
He notices. “You thought about it, didn’t you?” he realizes aloud, and he sounds almost proud. “Thought about me when you touched yourself.”
You shake your head but it’s a lie. You both know it.
“You did,” he repeats, and he’s smirking. “Did you picture me when you read? Picture me in your dirty little taboo fantasy? D’you picture my cock? My hands? My mouth?”
You did, and you’re embarrassed, and he loves it.
“Did I make you cum?” he whispers, and slips a fourth finger inside. “Hm? Did I have you coming all over your pretty hand? All over your sheets? Or did you use a toy, baby?”
You squirm. You try to fight him, try to fight this orgasm, try to fight what he’s making you remember. But it’s useless. 
“How many times did I make you cum?” he nearly purrs, and it’s over. It’s all over. You are powerless to him, and you embrace it. “How many times did you cum for me while you were reading your naughty little books—”
You don’t hear the rest. You’re unraveling for the third time before he can find his answer. But that’s more than all right because this was the answer he really wanted, anyway. 
He strokes your skin as you come down. Then, he pulls his fingers out, takes them in his mouth, and swallows you. Waiting until you’ve caught your breath before he’s crawling back up your body and slipping his tongue against yours.
He kisses you, and you taste everything. Him, you, and five years of memories shared between you. Rebecca slowly starts to dissolve from the picture and now it’s just the two of you. In every flashback, every moment. Maybe it was always him and you.
You reach for his belt. You want his jeans off. You want your hands around his cock. You want to hold him, ride him, gag on him. You’re impatient and he’s amused and it feels as though time is moving far too slow.
“Easy,” he tuts, but he kisses you again. “M’gonna give you my cock, Kitten, just have to wait for me, yeah?”
You pout. He kisses it away. “Can’t wait, Sir. Need it.”
Sir makes him grin, and this seems to work in your favor. “You can’t, hm? Well, what if I wanna take my time?”
You groan and you whimper and you fling your arms around his neck to pull him close and plead with him. “Please,” you whisper, kissing along his neck, and his skin tastes divine. “Please fuck me, Sir. I need it. Might die.”
He chuckles, and the vibration of his chest makes your insides twitch. “I bet. S’been a long time, hasn’t it?”
Three years, and while you know sex isn’t necessary to survive…now that you’re here…you feel rather insatiable. 
Because it’s not the fact that you haven’t had sex in three years that’s making you anxious. It’s the fact that you haven’t had sex with him. And you need to. You need him to scratch this itch that only he can scratch. And you need him to do it now.
“Are you gonna let me take care of you?” he asks, and you want to cry. He’s so good. “Can I do that, Kitten? Can I make it better?”
You nod, and you’re dizzy, and you’re dripping onto your sheets below. You feel so empty without him.
He laughs again and it’s heaven. “Good girl. Take off my jeans, okay?”
You do, and you do it well. They’re off in under thirty-five seconds and on the floor, next to your robe and his shirt. Your clothes look good together. It makes you smile.
He nods at his boxers, the only thing left between you. “Take ‘em off.”
You do. You roll the dark band down his gorgeously strong thighs and help him slip out of them before they’re joining the collection on the ground.
He’s got a large tattoo on his left leg that’s just begging to be licked and muscles in his calves that make your pussy clench.  
You stare at him and you probably drool and he’s laughing again.
He slips his finger under your chin once more and lifts your head until your eyes meet. He is a meadow. Gentle and calm. “Do you want a taste, Kitten?”
More nodding, more drooling. He kneels and you scoot closer, grasping onto his thighs to brace yourself as you stare at him.
He’s hard, and big, and leaking in a way that makes your throat go dry. He is better than you wanted him to be and he is better than the books and he is real. 
You dip down and you allow your lips to graze his tip. He smiles and puts a hand on your head to guide you. Comfort you. Control you in just the right way.
You extend your tongue and drag it up the side. He tastes good. More so than you expected. It’s like candy, and you lick and lick until you needily begin to take him into your mouth. 
He squeezes your scalp lightly. Easy. You’re going fast and he wants to go slow. He wants you to enjoy yourself. 
But you are. How could you not? He’s heavy in your mouth and you never thought you’d enjoy sucking someone’s cock as much as you do his. Maybe it’s true what they say. Maybe you really do get pleasure out of pleasing him.
You take more. As much as you can bear. Your eyes flutter shut. You’re tempted to gag but you don’t, not yet. You don’t want him to think you can’t take him. You want to be good. As good as he was for you.
He slips his fingers into your roots and tugs. “Baby,” he warns softly. “Don’t push yourself—”
You keep going. You groan around him and he curses at the feel of your throat. You go further. Until your eyes are screwing shut and your breathing becomes labored.
Suddenly, he’s yanking on you. Pulling you off as a string of saliva drips from his cock to your mouth.
“Hey,” he grunts, and he looks at you. You want to shrink. “I told you to go easy, yeah? You have nothing to prove to me, Kitten. This is not about doing something you think I need you to do. I want you to do it because you want to do it. It’s not a competition. I’m not gonna be disappointed if you can’t take much of me.”
You frown. “I know, but…I want to. I really do want to. I just…you’re big, Ha—Sir. You’re so big.”
You’re feeding his ego (but you’re also telling the truth) and he exhales a soft laugh. “I know,” he repeats. “But forcing yourself will only hurt. Besides, this is about you, yeah?”
Your expression falls. Another reminder that he’s only here as a service. To get you off and then get out. He won’t be spending the night, and he won’t be calling you tomorrow to set up the next time, and he won’t be promising that he’ll train your throat open to take his cock. 
You nod. You concede. Bring your hands to your lap and pull yourself away.
Now he’s frowning. He smooths his palm down the back of your neck and tugs you to him. He looks at you and he’s looking for what you’re really thinking. Something shifted. He wants to know what. Why.
“This is about you,” he says again, and you wish he’d stop. “Believe me, I’d be happy to have you gag on me, but that’s not what we’re doing tonight, okay? Not tonight.”
And it’s not a promise of next time. You know that. But not tonight implies something more open-ended than before and you finally smile. “Okay.”
He sweeps his thumb along your throat. “Can I fuck you now, baby?”
“God, yes,” you breathe, and nearly drag him on top of you. 
He smiles again and you feel whole. The dance continues. He kisses you and situates himself between your thighs, and you are so very ready. 
“Shit, wait, hold on,” he says, and you almost burst into tears. “I need to grab the condoms—”
“No,” you nearly shout, and his brow raises. “No, I…we’re both clean. And I’m on the pill. Why…why don’t we just…not? Maybe?”
It’s selfish, you know it’s selfish. But you want to feel him. You don’t want something keeping him from you and you want to know that he actually fucked you. 
You like condoms. You prefer condoms. But not now. Not with him. You have to know he really did this. You need to feel him in your pussy for years to come.
He looks at you. “You’re on the pill?” He doesn’t answer your question.
“Yeah. I take ‘em for cramps and regulation and stuff.” You wince. Talking about cramps is not sexy. “The point is…if you want…I mean, I want, but if you want…?”
He thinks about this. Brushes your hip with his thumb. Thinks. “I don’t mind, but only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” you exhale. “God, I’m sure. Honestly. As long as you are. And…and Rebecca. I don’t know if you guys have a rule…or anything.”
You wince again. You don’t want to bring up Rebecca, either. But you know you have to. You know she’s your friend, and she’s Harry’s partner, and this has to be asked. It has to be considered.
So, he considers it. “Most of the time we have a rule, yeah. For safety and peace of mind. But that’s when it’s other people. She doesn’t mind if we do or don’t. She said it’s up to me.”
“You talked about it?” 
“Yeah.” Of course they did. Honesty. “When I was grabbing the condoms. I asked if you had a preference, she said she didn’t think so. Said we could just go without if we wanted. As long as I got tested after.”
“Right.” You almost feel weird knowing they talked about you. But what did you expect? “And…do you want to?”
Another beat. He looks at you. Really looks at you. “I want to fuck you. I want to feel you. I think we’ve taken all of the right steps and I feel comfortable going without. As long as you do.”
“I do,” you assure him again. “I really, really do.”
He smiles. “Good.” He drags his tip down your cunt, gathering your arousal. “Then I wanna start like this. Wanna see your face. Make sure you’re doing all right.”
You nod quickly.
 “And I wanna see you when you cum on my cock for the first time,” he whispers huskily before steadying himself above you.
You are giddy. He is everything. He is so much better than your books and he is lining himself up with you and he is big, and ready, and beautiful.
He kisses you again. “Deep breath, okay? Try to relax. Don’t want to hurt you.”
You do breathe. You do try to relax. You let your mind wander to a world where he does this to you every night. Where your pussy happily accepts him and knows him and molds to him.
He pushes in. You reel.
Still, he is good, and gentle, and kind. He kisses you more. He distracts you, even though he doesn’t need to. You pretend that he’s imagining a world with you, too.
He sinks in further, and life is perfect. Your nails claw at his back—at the many muscles that tense beneath your touch. Your leg hooks to his hip, your heel against his ass. You draw him in. You plead with him for more. You say his name, you moan, you shiver.
“Shh,” he coos, and he wraps his hand around your throat. He remembers what you like, and he squeezes gently. “Let me do this, don’t rush me.”
You whimper, “Sir,” and he kisses you again. You are addicted to his tongue.
He finally buries himself all the way, hips against yours, chests flush together. He’s heavy and he’s warm. Like a weighted blanket and you feel so safe. You’ve missed the feeling of another body on top of you. Of that connection and intimacy. That protection. It’s even better when it’s him.
You cling to him and ask every star in the sky not to take him from you. “Please move, Sir.”
He draws back. He begins to fuck you, and he’s so big. He stretches you, claims you. Owns you, truly. He sucks your tit into his mouth and you melt between his lips. He nips, and pulls, and groans. And you hate everyone he’s ever been with before. You wish you were his only. 
He starts going faster. But not too fast. He wants to make you anxious for it. He wants you to beg. Wants you to unravel yourself from need alone. And you’re so close to doing just that.
“Good girl,” he praises, and your heart cracks down the middle. “Taking me so well. Is this what you needed, Kitten? Needed someone to fuck this tight little pussy until you felt better?”
You nod and you whimper again. He’s fucking you back to life. What happens when he leaves?
You shake the thought free and focus on now. His body feels good against yours. His teeth are perfect on your throat. His curls are soft and his skin is tan and his cock is fucking magic.
He’s relentless. Thick. Splitting you open and drawing you in. Your tits bounce from the thrusts and your back arches from the bed and his face is delicious. 
He’s watching you closely, just like he said. He’s studying your reactions, your noises, your gasps for air and mercy. He wants to know he’s giving you what you wanted. He wants to know he’s doing it right.
And of course he is. He has to know that. He has to assume he’s better than the average man. You wonder if he learned this from Rebecca or someone else. You wonder what would happen if you were his. Could you be okay with him sleeping with other people? Could you accept that he still wants you? 
You close your eyes and scrunch your nose. You’re doing it again. You’re letting yourself imagine a world you can’t have. You aren’t being present; you aren’t enjoying what you’re being given now. 
Suddenly, his hand is back on your throat. He’s squeezing, but pointedly. Asking for your attention.
“Hey,” he murmurs, just as stern as before. You look up. “What is this? What is this face for, what’s wrong?”
You blink and then realize your expression is still bunched. You relax. “Nothing, sorry.”
“Hey.” Firm. Unrelenting. He stops thrusting and you want to die.  “Baby, you can’t do that. I told you I need communication, I need honesty. If I’m hurting you, you have to tell me—”
“No,” you insist quickly. You take hold of his shoulders and then his hips as though to get him to continue. “No, that’s not it. I promise. Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t move. “Then what was the face for? What’s wrong?”
You huff. Sigh. Squeeze his waist. “Nothing, I promise. I was just…thinking about something I shouldn’t. And I wanted to stop.”
“Stop fucking? Or stop thinking?”
“Thinking. I wanted to be here. With you.”
He relaxes now and you feel his cock twitch. “Kitten, I want you here with me, too. If you’re not, we can stop for a while—”
“No,” you groan. You feel like a child about to throw a temper tantrum. “No, I swear. I am here. I am. And if you stop, then I won’t be, and it might kill me.”
He sighs now. It’s heavy. “Nobody else exists outside of this room except you and me, yeah? Just us.”
You melt. “Yeah…”
He kisses you. “I want you here with me, baby,” he exhales, and it’s like he’s breathing the sentiment into your lungs. “I need you here. With me. On my cock. Don’t want you to think about anybody else. It’s just us.”
You nod again, and you claw at him, and you beg him to keep going. He does. It fixes everything.
When your fourth hits you, you see the stars. Even if they aren’t in your favor, they are bright, and warm, and they carry you through to the other side.
And once you’ve caught your breath, Harry pulls out. 
You’re tempted to wither, to cry, to beg him to stay but he’s already flipping you around onto your stomach and driving himself back in.
Now you understand. And you’re ecstatic. He’s rough. Pulling your hair, forcing your cheek to the bed, slapping his palm against your ass.
“Give me another,” he demands, and he sounds angry, but he’s not. He’s ready. “Just like you would for your little book boys. You fucking cum for me, right now. Let me feel you. Let me cum with you.”
He slams into you and it’s so full. You could cum for a lifetime and still never feel finished.
He spanks you again. Grips your hair. Forces your nose into the duvet until it’s hard to breathe. It’s rough. Deep. And still…he’s caring for you. You know he’s making sure he isn’t pushing too far. Just enough. You love it.
“What a sweet little pussy,” he seethes, but it’s thick with lust. “Can’t believe you’ve fucking kept this from me for five years. All this time and you were right here.”
You’re glad he can’t see you now. He might be afraid of how happy that sentence makes you.
“S’all I’m gonna think about,” he says. “Tasting you. Fucking you. Feeling you. Gonna dream of this pretty pussy every goddamn night.”
You moan. You hope he does. Hope he dreams of it when he’s lying next to her. 
No. You scrunch your nose. You reject it. You ignore it.
He spanks you. Kneads your ass in his hand, then spanks you again. “Gotta promise me something, Kitten. Yeah? Gotta promise me that you’re gonna think of me, too.”
And you are. Of course you are. You always do. “Yes…yes, Sir. I promise.”
Another slap and squeeze to your scalp. “Good fucking girl. Now cum. Fucking cum for me, baby.”
You want to. But not before he does. You need to feel him, too, and you hold off as best you can until you feel him twitch.
“Kitten,” he says, and you’re ready. “Want you to make me another promise, yeah? Want you to take my cum…and keep it. Keep it in your little pussy, even after I leave. Okay?”
You nod quickly. You will. Of course you will. God, how could he think you wouldn’t?
Your promise tips him over, and he cums, and he’s loud, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
You wish you could see him. It’s so cruel that you can’t, and you try to glance back to catch even a glimpse. You see his brows scrunch together, see his mouth drop open, see his cheeks flush from the force.
And seeing him tips you over. You cum together, a mess of moans, and pants, and nicknames. Sweaty bodies connecting as he collapses on top of you, further burying you into the mattress. And it’s so hot and you can’t breathe, but you have never felt more alive. This moment is infinite. He is infinite, and you are infinite with him.
“Shit,” he says, and you have to agree. “You’re so good, baby. So fucking good. Can’t believe you’ve kept that from me.”
It’s the second time he’s said it. You wonder if he realizes. “I didn’t do anything, this was all you.”
He snorts. “Kitten, I had nothing to do with how fucking good that was. Believe me. You…are fucking perfect. Every cute little flutter of your cunt. Your tits. Those big eyes…”
The room falls silent. You imagine he wants to turn you around and see you, but he doesn’t. He’s keeping himself inside you for as long as he can. 
“Thank you,” you whisper, and the sentiment doesn’t feel strong enough. “For…for doing that, I mean. And…for not making it weird. I know I was probably kind of…rusty and nervous, and I just—”
“No.” He shakes his head. Squeezes your hip. Kisses your bare back until you fall silent. “You are perfect. Okay? That was perfect. I really, really enjoyed it.”
You smile. You are happy and miserable all in the same moment. “Me, too.”
You want to ask if you’ll be doing it again. You want to pretend that he’s not gonna leave you and go back to her. That he’s not Rebecca’s Harry or Just Harry.
That he’s Your Harry.
But all good things must come to an end. He will leave. And you will let him.
“Now what?” you dare to ask.
A small beat. “We don’t have to talk about it after I leave…if that’s what you still want,” he says next, and your chest feels heavy. “I just want to make sure you’re all right before I do. That you pee, and you drink your water, and you take it easy. I know I went kind of hard on you.”
“But it was good,” you tell him, and you grin at the memory. It feels so far away. “Really good. Everything I wanted.”
“Yeah?” He kisses you more. The space between your shoulders. Your neck. Your cheek. “Any notes?”
You laugh. “No notes. God, no. You’re like a sex god.”
“Better than your books?”
“So much fucking better.”
“Hm.” More kisses. “Don’t tell me that. I’ll get a big head.”
“You already have one,” you attempt to tease, and he laughs, too. “Both of them.”
The room fills with giggles until you both fall silent again. He doesn’t leave. You don’t make him.
“Do we…tell Rebecca?” you ask. “Like…the details and things?”
“Only if you want to.” He stops kissing you now but rests his cheek on your head. “She doesn’t expect us to, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
You nod. You like Rebecca. You can’t imagine you’d be so relaxed if you were in her position. “And this…works for you guys? The open relationship?”
“Yeah.” He smiles. Nods. “We have a lot of love and trust and I think that’s why. It’s what we both want.”
You resist the urge to scrunch your nose. You’re happy for him. For both of them, you are. This really is what’s best and you’re so glad they have each other. And you’re glad that they’re both willing to explore it with you and still keep you in their lives.
“Is it just sex?” you ask next, despite your better judgment. “Or…like, what if you wanted to date someone else? Or is that not what it means?”
“We can date around if we want. We haven’t in a while, just because we can’t seem to find people we like enough to keep around.” He smirks. “But we could. It’s not as rigid as it sounds.”
He finally pulls out and you want to cry. You feel cold and empty.
However, he’s quick to scoop the dribbling cum from your pussy and push it back in. Just for a little while longer. 
You close your legs and smile. “I don’t think it’s rigid as long as it’s what you want.”
He smiles back. “It is.”
You shift now. You feel nervous again. “So…then, I guess by the rules and things…it wouldn’t be…totally weird to see if you wanted to do it again? Not that we have to—we could, I mean. Or not, if you don’t want. Or maybe I should ask her. Or you can. Or…actually, it’s dumb, never mind. I don’t know why I thought—”
He grabs your chin. Presses his thumb to your lips to quiet you. “Kitten, breathe.”
You do.
“We can do it again,” he says, and you have never felt so happy. You feel as though you were just set on fire. Your skin is tingling, and your insides are twisting, and your pussy is clenching. “We don’t have to ask permission. We’re adults. We can do whatever we’d like. That’s the point of an open relationship.”
You nod. You want to kiss him. “Okay. Are you…I mean, do you want to? We don’t have to just because I do, honestly. I just…we both liked it, so I thought maybe we’d want to. Unless it wasn’t really that good for you, which I would understand—”
“Kitten.”
You stop. You breathe.
He chuckles. “I would love to fuck you again. And again. And again. As many times as you’ll let me.”
You’re practically shaking. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He grins. He can tell how giddy you are. “What are you doing next Friday?”
“I am doing whatever you want me to.”
The expression that splits his face is like sunshine. He loves this answer, and he loves your pussy, and perhaps one day…he’ll love you, too.
“Good fucking girl,” he breathes, and surges forward to kiss you.
And maybe…this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
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Next Part:
~ Insatiable You*
~ Full Infinite You Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
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gurugirl · 7 months
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The Big Tease | bfd!harry
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*photo is for t-shirt placement visual only. please picture who you like as reader.
best friend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship au
Summary: based loosely on this request - Harry comes to your place to make sure you're taking care of yourself and you find that as hard as you try to tease him, he's not giving in to you and then some high emotions are exposed.
Word Count: 7.8k words
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, angst, age gap, cheating
bfd!harry masterlist
You tried not to feel guilty about what you were doing with a married man. Your best friend’s dad. It was hard when it came to keeping it a secret from everyone. Keeping it a secret from Fae.
“Where’d you get this?” Fae brushed her fingers over the pretty little bracelet Mr. Styles gave you a few nights before. It was gold with three round light-colored opals in the center and two round-cut tiny diamonds on either side. It was dainty and sweet and you knew it was expensive after googling the brand and finding the exact item available online and in high-end shops nearby.
“Ahh… my mom and dad got it for me a while ago. Just haven’t worn it in a long time. Forgot it about,” you lied with a shrug. Lying to her made you nauseous.
“Really? How could you forget about this? It’s gorgeous! Looks really pretty on you too,” she complimented and you frowned as you looked down at it.
You hated lying to your best friend. But what could you do? You certainly wouldn’t admit to your affair with her father. And of course, you weren’t quite feeling guilty enough to put an end to it either. Mr. Styles was the best you’d ever had and you were completely smitten with him.
When you two finally made it back to your apartment after shopping and eating and stopping at the ice cream shop for a treat you’d also forgotten all the lovely flowers you had sitting around your living room and kitchen.
It had also become a thing where you’d get the most exquisite bouquets delivered to you every Monday morning. Peonies, roses, phalaenopsis orchids, and gardenias all stuffed with hardly any filler. You knew the bouquets he was sending you were hundreds of dollars a pop. But they were breathtaking.
You quickly assessed in your mind whether or not you’d removed the cards from them which would have given everything away should Fae see. Unlocking your door and letting yourself in first you quickly glanced around and the freshest bouquet clearly still had its card poking out of it. You made a beeline across the room as Fae closed your door behind her and plucked the tiny card out, crumpling it in your hand, and then bent down next to the table to pretend you were doing something else.
“Those are so pretty, Y/n. Oh my god. Do you have a flower service or something?”
You had three bouquets placed around your living room. One was clearly old and some of the flowers were drooping, losing their vibrant colors, while the newer ones were full of soft pinks and purples, crisp white and cream…
“Yes. I decided to start treating myself to nice flowers every week.” You smiled. Another lie. You couldn’t afford a weekly delivery of these kinds of flowers and if Fae bothered to research how expensive bouquets like this were she’d have questioned you further. But luckily she didn’t.
The bracelet, the flowers, your glow… all things she noticed, could have been an indicator of a lover but as far as you could tell she hadn’t connected the dots. Or at least she didn’t voice it to you.
Of course, everything could be explained. But she was your best friend. If you weren’t more vigilant, she’d be catching on soon, you were sure.
.           .           .
The following day after a morning shift at the restaurant you arrived home and collapsed on your couch. It was exhausting. The restaurant was only open for breakfast and brunch on the weekend (where normally it’s only a dinner spot the rest of the week) and it was slammed. Mimosas, eggs benedict, fancy French tarts, and pastries, huge parties of people, music, guests nursing hangovers… The restaurant was well known for its weekend breakfast and brunch with bottomless mimosas and Bloody Marys. The clientele were usually upper-class folks who didn’t mind spending $35 for their mimosa and then only ordering 2 when they could have had as many as they wanted. A local creamery provided butter, yogurt, and milk for your special breakfast dishes, and a bowl of fancy yogurt and some in-house granola was $15. The cheapest food item on the breakfast menu. The cheapest item on the menu was a cup of black coffee, refillable. Unless you ordered the free tap water.
You got lucky to eat anything while you served breakfast. It was typically too busy to take a bite of anything. But the tips were excellent because everyone was usually in a great mood.
You were startled awake by your phone vibrating in your back pocket. You’d fallen asleep without even realizing you’d closed your eyes.
Pulling the phone out from under your body you realized it was Harry calling you (he normally didn’t call unless it was prearranged).
“Hello?” You sat up as you answered.
“Baby! I was worried. Are you okay? I didn’t hear back from you.”
Harry had a thing where he wanted you to text him when you got home from work to let him know you made it safely, even if it was a morning shift. He was always so worried about you but you kind of loved it.
“I’m fine. Sorry! I fell asleep as soon as I sat down on the couch. God, I’m so exhausted. Fae was here late last night and then I had the breakfast shift so I only had like four hours of sleep…”
“Hey, it’s okay. I was just worried. I texted you and then never heard back. Just started to panic. Have you eaten?”
You smiled and his soft deep voice made you feel so comfortable and safe, “I haven’t eaten yet. I had a bit at work but just passed out as soon as I got here.”
“So you’ve only had something to eat at work? It’s already dinnertime, Y/n.”
Harry did have a tendency to sort of scold you like he was your dad. Maybe it was ingrained in him in some ways. To try and take care of you and remind you to do things like eat.
“Geez, Dad. I’ll get right on it,” you teased.
Harry was silent for a moment, which had you worried. Perhaps calling him ‘dad’ had been unwise.
But then suddenly his voice broke through the line, “I’m coming over. I have a feeling you don’t have any groceries and I’m gonna make you dinner. Something to eat.”
You scoffed, “I mean… I have food here. I will eat. You don’t have–“
“I’ll be there within an hour,” he interrupted and you nodded to yourself.
“O… Okay. Um… yeah. In an hour.”
.           .           .
You quickly showered and tossed your dirty clothes into your clothes hamper so they weren’t strewn about your bedroom floor. You tidied up and kept yourself busy until he finally arrived. You were getting all worked up knowing he was coming over.
You didn’t know what he had been telling Mrs. Styles about why he was leaving or when he’d stay with you overnight, or spend hours in your bed every week. Though there were times he could only come over quickly, most of the time he stayed with you long enough that he’d need a good cover story. You kind of hoped you could have him for the night.
When he knocked at your door and you opened it up for him you saw he had his hands full. One arm around a sack of groceries and in his other hand the bag he normally packed for when he was staying the night.
You smiled when you saw his handsome face and ushered him into your small apartment. He leaned in to kiss you quickly, “Just showered?” He asked.
“Well yeah,” you spoke as you closed the door and followed behind him to your kitchen, “I didn’t have the chance earlier because I fell asleep as you know,” you laughed.
“Mmhmm…” he grunted affirmatively as he began to remove the grocery items from the bag one by one.
You saw tomatoes, fresh basil, flour, mushrooms, cheese…
“What are you making?” You picked up the container of buffalo mozzarella and then looked at Harry.
“Margherita pizza. One of my favorite little recipes my mom used to make.”
You placed the container down, pulled his arm to drag him toward you, and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him.
He immediately paused what he was doing and wrapped his arms around you, deepening the kiss and then giving you a taste of his tongue.
But then he pulled away with his signature teasing smirk and went back to his task.
“You brought your bag. Gonna stay the night with me?”
He nodded as he folded the paper bag up neatly and then looked at you, “If that’s okay. Have to leave early, though.”
If that’s okay.
You laughed to yourself and nodded, “Of course, it’s okay, Harry. God, what I wouldn’t give to have you with me every–“ You stopped what you saying when you realized how suddenly serious that thought was. You did want him every night. You wanted him to yourself but you hadn’t discussed that with him before.
Harry placed the neatly folded paper bag down on your little counter and then pulled you back toward him with his hands on your hips, “Yeah? Every…? What? Every night? Want me every night, baby?” That same sneaky, devious smirk on his face had you melting and warm.
“I just meant, you’re always welcome,” you slid your hands up his chest and bit your lip. You were a little embarrassed that you admitted that but it was obviously too late now.
“I’m always welcome or you want me every night? Which is it?” He gripped you harder so you couldn’t escape his questions, his gaze.
You puffed a breath out through your lips with a laugh, “Both.”
He loosened his grip and brought a hand to your face, his eyes fixed to yours, “Both. I’d much prefer to be here with you every night too. Would if I could.” The thumb that trailed over your cheekbone and to your temple was soft and loving. You knew he meant what he said.
Harry’s pizza was superb. Your oven wasn’t quite right, he kept saying as he baked it but to you, it was the best thing that had ever come out of that cheap appliance.
“Usually like to make this in a brick oven. The one I’ve got in my backyard, but this will do in a pinch I suppose.”
Your mouth was full as you nodded, “So good.”
Harry laughed at your stuffed cheeks and the way you were gobbling down what he’d made.
“Aren’t you going to eat more?” You asked him finally when you’d swallowed your bite. He’d only had one slice.
“Already had dinner. But I wanted to feed you. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”
For some reason with a tummy full of Harry’s pizza and the kind gesture of his cooking to help take care of you had you reeling and needing more than just food.
Of course, it would have been impolite to just abandon cleanup but you were suddenly aware of how his sleeves were pushed up his forearms and how his dimples were extra deep accompanying his attractive smile. And his hair looked too tidy, you needed to get your hands in it. Needed to get him out of his clothes. Get those long fingers around your neck and touching your body immediately.
You set your plate down on the small kitchen table you were both sitting at and slid your hand up his thigh, “Oh is that why you came over here? The only reason?” You grinned and he leaned back into his chair and looked at you, keeping his own grin in check.
“Need to make sure my girl is healthy. Has everything she needs.”
“Yeah? And sometimes I need more than just food too, Mr. Styles.”
Harry crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs slightly as you continued moving your hand upward, “Oh I know, sweet girl. You need a lot of things, don’t you?”
You nodded, “What about you? Do you need things too? From me? Anything I can help you with?”
Now his grin was breaking out over his face but it was cheeky, playful, “Of course I do.”
But he wasn’t giving in to your little game. He liked having you be the one to ask for it. You didn’t know why but he loved hearing you beg him. You always resisted begging. At first anyway. Sometimes he’d give in without you needing to.
“And what do you need from me?” You stopped short of putting your fingers over where you knew he was tucked under his pants. The obvious natural bulge he sported giving away where he normally liked to position himself.
“Whatever you’re willing to give me, love. But I’m here because you needed to eat first and foremost. And you needed some groceries.”
You laughed and skipped over his lovely cock and put your hand up to his chest, scooting your chair in a little closer, “I’ll give you anything you want, sir. All you have to do is ask.”
Harry smiled and licked his lips slowly, “I’m as content as I can be here with you right now. Could sit here all night listening to you talk. S’that what you want? Want to touch my chest,” he flitted his eyes down to where your hand was before looking back into your eyes, “and my thighs, and chat all night about my pizza making skills and your lack of healthy food?”
You folded your lips into your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. He was playing a game of chicken with you. You really wanted to win this time.
“Well, that does sound really nice. You’ve filled me up so good with your yummy pizza. Guess I don’t need anything more than stimulating conversation with you if that’s all you’re interested in.”
Harry swallowed and breathed a laugh out of his nose, “Fine. Pizza and conversation it is.”
You wanted to huff in frustration. He still had his arms crossed over his chest, just under where your fingers were toying with the buttons on his shirt. He wasn’t giving in. But you had a thought.
“I’ll be right back.”
You hopped up from the chair and pranced to your bedroom. If he wanted to tease so would you. Stripping off your sweats you dug out your thin white Hey Lover t-shirt and tied it up just under the center of your breasts, and black cheeky boy short panties. You’d pretend you were only getting comfy since it was already late in the evening. He’d know what you were up to but you could play it off like you just wanted to get into your comfy house clothes.
When you got back to the kitchen Harry was already cleaning up.
“Hey, let’s do that later. Wanna sit and talk a bit.”
Harry tsked you, his back still turned as he wrapped up the rest of the pizza in foil, “I worked hard on this. Don’t want it to go bad. You can go sit–“ when he finally turned his full gaze back to you he stopped mid-sentence. You saw his jaw clench and his nostrils flair.
Not fair. That was not fair of you.
You knew your top especially was going to drive him mad. It was thin and your nipples were poking through the material and he could certainly see the shadow of the deeper color of your areolas popping through.
And he did. You noted where his eyes roamed, pausing over your tits for a good few seconds before licking his lips and turning back around to finish his job.
“Go sit.” He said without a single note of sweetness or desire.
You smiled to yourself as you walked into the living room and sat on your couch. Putting on a little music you selected a good little playlist that you knew he’d like.
Trying to act as unbothered as you possibly could you found a comfortable position on the couch and leaned into your cushions as you waited for Mr. Styles to join you.
It wasn’t long before he was casually strolling into the living room and sitting on the couch, leaving a few feet between you two. He draped an ankle over his knee and sat back, looking totally cool and unbothered.
You stretched and gathered your hair into your hands to expose your neck as you spoke, “So, how was your day today, Mr. Styles? You already know all about mine.”
Harry nodded slowly as he looked at you, keeping his eyes on your face, “Normal. Woke up and worked out, read an article, and played some golf with a colleague. That’s it really. Now here I am feeding you and entertaining you with conversation,” he grinned and you saw his eyes quickly take in your neck.
You smiled and sighed, “Sounds nice. I’ve played golf a few times. I’m terrible at it, though. Once a guy who took me tried to straighten out my stance but it did no good. No matter how many times he helped me adjust my grip or pushed my legs to spread them out properly it just didn’t work,” you chuckled. It was true. You’d gone with a guy a couple of years back on a date. He was flirting with you when he tried showing you the proper way to stand and hold the club but it turned into making out in the golf cart and a quick fuck in his car before he dropped you at home.
“S’that so? He probably wasn’t a good player either if he couldn’t give you any tips to help you improve your game.”
You shrugged, “I don’t know. I think he was more interested in getting my clothes off than anything,” you kept your eyes on his to asses but there was nothing there that indicated jealousy.
You had to amp it up. Do something to make him lose it. Wanted to watch him thicken up in his pants.
Dropping your hair you tucked your legs under yourself and turned to face Harry. You knew he was trying his hardest not to let his eyes drop below your neck. He knew he’d be fucked if he took in the way the soft cotton stretched over your breasts.
“Anyway. Are you any good?” You allowed your own eyes to take him in fully. His composure was sure to falter at some point.
“Yeah. I’m all right. I can hold my own.”
His short answer was not exactly what you were hoping for but you didn’t let it deter you. For some reason, his standoffish behavior was getting you even more worked up.
“Bet you can hold your own. You’re just so naturally good at everything you do,” you moved your finger over your tummy, keeping your eyes on his, “I know first-hand.”
Harry raised his brows and the movement of your hand over your torso and then down toward the top of your panties had him dropping his sight to where you were softly ghosting your fingers along the elastic band. You tugged at the knot on your shirt before moving your hand back up toward your chest, your thumb pressed between your thin cotton t-shirt-covered tits.
He watched your fingers and then looked back up at you, “Do you? And what do you know of my skills?” He smiled softly. Still appearing totally unbothered.
You sighed and tilted your head, keeping your eyes on his before stretching your arms over your head and allowing your shirt to lift the tiniest bit, revealing the bottom of your breasts. You only put your arms down once you were satisfied that Mr. Styles had gotten a good look, “Well, for example, you just made me a pizza that was to die for. Also, you recently got promoted at work and now you’re some big shot,” you unfolded a leg from underneath your bum and stretched it out, pressing your bare foot onto Harry’s thigh, “And I’ve seen you work out,” you nudged his muscled thigh, “You put men half your age to shame. You’re so athletic…” you began to pull your foot away but Harry gripped your ankle and pulled your leg to drape over his thigh making you smile in triumph.  Though you’d not yet won this round, he was clearly giving in to you bit by bit.
“Hmmm…” Harry nodded and hummed quietly. He kept his hand on your shin and his eyes a safe distance from anything below your chin, “I know I’m good at a lot of things. Can make you dribble all over your chin by just pulling my pants down,” he licked his lips, “Feel like that’s a great skill of mine. What else…” his hand began to brush over your leg softly and you scoffed at him but of course, he was right. You both knew it. He made you drool and whiney and hot. He didn’t even have to do anything.
“That was one time. And you had your fingers in my mouth. It wasn’t because of your cock,” you lied. Well, his fingers in your mouth did have you drool down your chin and when he pulled his pants down, he teasingly pointed out how your chin was shiny and you’d dripped saliva down your neck and to your chest.
“No? Hmmm… but you were so desperate to get it in your mouth that you tried grabbing me and when I told you to be patient you whined and drooled all over the floor. You can pretend all you want, little girl. I see what you’re trying to do.”
You watched as his hand traveled up your leg and past your knee to your thigh, “Wearing this little getup… trying to seduce me. So desperate for me. But you’re gonna have to try a lot harder than this, Y/n. You can lie to yourself and pretend you're not bothered and change the subject and show me your pretty tits all you want. S’not gonna change the fact that you’re gonna wind up a messy little puddle begging me for anything I’ll give you. Isn’t that right?”
Your mouth dropped open in faux shock. He was right. But you weren’t ready to give up yet.
“Whatever you say, Mr. Styles. I know you like having your ego stroked. So go ahead and keep telling yourself that you’ve got the upper hand. We both know you’re already folding. I can sit here all night and chat with you like this if you want. Doesn’t bother me one bit.” You folded your arms across your chest with a grin.
Harry laughed quietly and shook his head. You were fun. He loved these moments with you. Loved giving you a hard time. Loved when you gave him a hard time. He softly pinched the inside of your thigh and you laughed, attempting to pull your leg away but he held you in place, large palms keeping your leg over him, fingers digging into your skin.
“Darling, you forget who you’re dealing with. I’m not the one resorting to skimpy clothes and trying to hide how turned-on I am. I see you trying to keep your legs pressed together. Hiding something,” he jutted his chin toward you and looked over the spot between your legs where he knew your panties covered up a tiny secret.
You wore black panties on purpose. Any wetness would be easier to hide, but keeping your legs pressed together could ensure he didn’t see the wet patch that had begun to spread. However, the way he was holding your leg over his lap made it quite difficult for you to not open your thighs a little.
“You just love to imagine that you’ve got me all bothered. But you’re wrong. I’m totally fine.”
Harry smiled and pulled at your leg further, causing a small yelp to slip out from your mouth followed by a tiny bit of laughter at the way you lost balance when you were pulled toward him, your other leg being tugged at to drape over his thigh.
“Good. Then we can just sit here and talk about the weather and maybe politics if you’re into that. Or is there another topic you had in mind since you’re so keen on just sitting chatting all night?”
You steadied yourself, back against the cushion as you pressed your legs together again and looked up at him innocently, “Randy called me the other day. Said he missed me. Apologized for being rude when we were together. That was nice to hear. The apology,” you wiggled your hips to fix your seating so you could appear more casual, despite having your legs in Harry’s possession over his lap.
Harry’s large palms ran up the outer sides of your thighs slowly before dragging back down to just above your knees, keeping his eyes on yours, “Oh really? Thinking about getting back with him then?” He spoke trying to tamper the playful smile on his face.
You snorted a laugh and grinned teasingly, drawing your fingers across your breasts, “Nahh… I can do better. I mean… maybe if I’m desperate and just need to scratch an itch. You know? Being a single girl gets hard at times. My dildo is only gonna give me a small taste of what a man can. Even if he’s not great in bed.”
Biting the inside of his cheek he nodded with dark eyes, “Would be such a shame to waste a good fuck on Rudy like that when you’ve got me at the helm. Of course, you're too stubborn to admit it. All you have to do is ask.”
 You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap with a pout, “Randy. His name is Randy. But anyway… I don’t have to beg Randy to fuck me. He’s never pretended he was unbothered by me. Always quite straightforward really. If he wanted sex all he had to do was tell me. You on the other hand,” you poked your finger into his arm, “like making it hard for me, which is quite impolite. So I’m okay with not having sex if you just aren’t up for it.”
Harry pushed a laugh out through his nose at your tease, “Rudy sounds like a fucking bore. And he never gave you an orgasm. Either you have really bad taste or you’re just a tease. I have a feeling I know which it is, too. Little girl likes to play games. I can play games if you want. But you know I’m gonna win.”
You knew he was right. You wanted his cock but he wasn’t budging. All you had to do was admit it. Ask him politely. And you would when you couldn’t handle it any longer but you were having fun and the back and forth was like foreplay for you.
He kept one hand grasped around the outside of your thigh while his other smoothed inward, fingers pushing your thighs apart the tiniest bit and then gently dancing upward. If he moved his fingers too far up he’d feel how damp you were already.
“I’m not playing games,” you spoke matter-of-factly, watching as his hand traveled over your skin, “I can just tell maybe you’re tired Perhaps you’ve had a long day and it’s almost bedtime for you. I mean I get it,” you laughed in preparation for what you were about to say, “When you get to be your age things just slow down a little. It’s okay if you’re not up for it tonight, sir.”
Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and closed his eyes as he laughed at your attempt to provoke him.
When he looked back at you his expression was serious as he pried your legs apart, swiping the pad of his pointer finger right over the wet material of your panties and raised his brows as if he was shocked. Though you knew he was goading you, “You know goddamn well that my age has nothing to do with my libido. Difference between me and you is that I have incredible willpower and I know that you’re gonna be begging me to stuff your pussy before the night is over.”
You laughed and shook your head, “Nope.”
Harry pressed his thumb right over where your clit was already aching and grinned, “Yep.” Popping the p for emphasis. “See I’ve already got you soaking your panties. Goosebumps on your legs. Your nipples are hard. Your face is warm. I bet your heart is pounding too, just wishing you were getting the life fucked out of you right now. And you could be,” he spoke lowly as he slid a finger under the fabric of your panties and smoothed it over your skin, but not touching your crease or your clit like you hoped, “If you just admit it.”
You noticed that his cock had plumped under his pants. A good sign, you figured, “Nothing to admit. I might be turned on but I can hold out. In fact, I’d bet you’re not in much better shape with your cock swelling up like it is. You need this wet pussy to soothe that big dick, don’t you?”
Harry’s undisturbed body language was a concern because even though his prick was growing harder by the minute, you were starting to boil while he still seemed unphased.
“Oh, honey…” Harry smiled at you like you were a pitiful thing, “I’m doing just fine. In fact, probably just gonna fuck my own fist before we go to bed since you’re so stubborn. Maybe I’ll let you watch me too. I’ll be just fine. Just love being here with you. We don’t always have to have sex.”
You clenched your jaw and huffed imagining that scene. Having Harry yank his cock with his big hand until he was coming on your floor. You’d want to lick it up off the floor too. Scoop it all up and swallow it down. He had you obsessed with his come. Well, with him in general.
You tried to think of something to say but your brain was stuck on the image of him slowly stroking his fat cock and saying filthy shit to you while you tried to hold it together and not give in to your own urges.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Harry lifted a hand to your face and brushed his thumb along your jaw and up over your cheek, “Need to tell me something?”
Your lips parted and you breathed out a small whimper and squished your eyes closed. Your determination was crumbling with his soft touches.
“S’okay. If you don’t mind,” Harry pushed your legs off of him and quickly began to unbutton his pants, “S’getting tight in there…” he pulled his pants down just a touch so that the bulge under his briefs was now poking out and he had a bit more space to breathe.
He pressed over his erection and straightened himself out and suddenly the tip of his cock was peeking out over the band of Calvin Kleins. You closed your eyes again and tried to will yourself to not give in to him. But what was fair was fair. You were teasing him with your body and now he was returning the favor.
When you heard Harry chuckle you opened your eyes to look at him and your head was fuzzy. He was literally mouth-watering. He’d unbuttoned his shirt so you could see his tattoos and the large erection poking out from his briefs was like an actual cherry on top of it all. You licked your lips and swallowed down your saliva as you stared at his swollen head. It looked like something you could just pop into your mouth and suckle on if you weren’t so stubborn.
But Harry loved how stubborn you were. You really did make him work for it. You were exciting and sweet and he loved the way you teased him.
“If you want some you can have some, sweetheart. I know you’d like a taste. S’right there for you if you just ask politely.”
You groaned and looked away from him but your eyes were burning and all you could think about was straddling his lap and pushing his briefs down so you could fuck yourself on him. You were actually vibrating and pulsing you were so turned on.
And when you thought about it all… how this was all just a game anyway. How you both knew you’d end up with his come dribbling out of your cunt and satisfied and fucked out before you went to bed you laughed, “Fuck it…” you said as you crawled yourself over his lap and Harry’s hands found your hips, “I want you. Okay? You win.”
He had a pleased smile on his face when he felt you press your soaked panties over his briefs and plaster your lips over his in finality.
He would have laughed and teased you for giving in but he was thankful you did. Because he was aching for you.
You were desperate too. You pulled away from the kiss and put your hands down to his briefs and pushed at the material before sliding the crotch of your panties to the side and letting your wet hole kiss his tip softly as you looked into his eyes, “Can I please have it?”
Harry’s smirk fell from his face the moment you began to lower yourself, coating him in your slick arousal, “Yes. Take what you want. Fuck…”
The music was soft and you could barely hear the lyrics as you began to work yourself down and up along his length. You moaned as you felt him poke deep and keened, sucking in a sharp breath, “So thick…” you panted.
You were wetting Harry’s briefs and the tops of his pants but he didn’t care in that moment. He’d take care of the issue after you were done, “Yeah? Needed to stuff yourself with my cock didn’t you darling? Feels good?”
You nodded and held onto the back of the couch as Harry moved his hands from your hips up to the bottom hem of your top and pushed the material up so he could finally look at your pretty breasts. His favorite. He leaned in and suckled your tit into your mouth and you gasped softly.
You began to ride him a little faster, sticky slick noises coming from between your bodies as you writhed up and down his cock.
“Harry!” You shouted his name in a desperate plea. You didn’t know what you were pleading for but you just wanted more. His tongue and lips and teeth on your tits and his heavy, hard dick inside of you were really all a girl could ask for.
Harry moaned and licked over the spot he nipped next to your nipple and moved his lips over your soft flesh as he spoke, “Poor thing… so needy for me. Should have just given in the first time I told you to, baby.”
The couch under you squeaked gently as you rose and fell over him. The relief of having him inside of you had you tearing up.
Harry tilted his head back to look at your face. And just as he expected you were completely insatiable. Your expression was hungry and lusty with your lips parted, a pained look across your features.
Harry cooed at you and slid his hands up from your soft breasts to cup your face and make you kiss him. Your mouths moved together slowly as you shifted over him, slowing down a little now that your mouths were connected.
Harry pulled away, keeping his hands at your face, “Slow down a little bit. Here…” he dropped one hand to your hip and stilled you, pushing you down all the way over his shaft until you were firmly seated in his lap and his tip was stuffed so far inside of you it hurt making you whine and quiver.
“Like that. Just sit and feel me. No need to hurry. Gonna always take care of you. Okay?” His lips pressed over yours again and you moaned into his mouth.
You acted as if you were starved. You canted your hips slightly to glide your clit against his pelvic bone and he gasped and pulled away again, “I know you need it, baby. Just slow down. You were so desperate weren’t you?” He thumbed at your cheek and wiped your tears with a grin, “Always my good girl. Aren’t you?”
You bit your lips and whimpered as you nodded. You felt like a pathetic girl. It was like the moment his cock was inside of you all your good sense flew out the window and you were a melty, needy puppy in despair, deprived of attention and love. You needed more and more and more every time he entered you. It only got worse as the months crawled on and your affair got more serious.
“I wanna be your only good girl. Please…” You slid your shaky fingers into his hair and smoothed your lips over his with a tremulous breath.
Harry rocked upward, dipping into your sensitive insides and you gasped again, parting your lips from his.
“Look at me, Y/n…” Harry spoke as he moved a hand to the back of your neck.
You locked eyes with him and your sad little pout had him leaning in to give you a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth before he looked back into your eyes, “You’re my good girl. No one else. Just you, baby. Understood?”
You nodded and sniffled, “But I’m not,” You jutted your bottom lip out like a child and felt ridiculous. You didn’t know what had you so emotional suddenly. Maybe it was the build-up and all the teasing. Or the way you always gave in to him and he was so cool and secure in himself while you were shaky and desperate.
Harry moved a hand down your back and kept his other hand brushing softly over your cheekbone, “Yes you are. You’re mine. You’re my only.”
You didn’t want to say it. Hated to bring it up but you couldn’t help it or you thought you’d explode if you didn’t tell the truth, “But you’re married. I might be yours but you’re not mine.”
He hadn’t quite expected it. You knew the situation. He couldn’t just leave his wife of 20+ years. It didn’t work that way. But to hear you say it was… well it gave him pause.
“Okay. I am married. But I’m here with you right now, Y/n. Because I’d rather be here with you. Wish I could be here every night. And I would if I could.”
You nodded. You knew he’d prefer to fuck you rather than his wife. That part was understood. But he’d never actually choose you over her when it came down to it. “I know. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just… I’m starting to…” You swallowed the words your heart wanted to reveal but you stopped, “Just want to see you more I think. Once a week or every other week isn’t good for me. Need you more. I think that’ll make me better. I’m sorry… I don’t know –“
Harry shushed you and stroked your back softly, “I want to see you more too, baby. Should we think of a way to make it twice or three times a week even? Will that make it better?”
You smiled and nodded, “Three times a week? Oh my god…” You kissed him and squealed at the idea of having him three times a week.
Harry laughed and nodded, “If it makes you happy. Didn’t know you needed more, honey. Didn’t want to make you sick of me.”
You laughed in return and shook your head, “I could never be sick of you, Harry. I’m…” You stopped yourself once again. The words on the tip of your tongue but that wouldn’t be fair. To you nor to him. “I’m happy you want that too.”
Harry’s fingers on your face felt soft and comforting, “Of course I want that. I want you happy. And that would make me happier too.”
You felt dizzy with love and excitement as you pasted your lips to his and began to rock your hips slowly again.
You knew you were selfish. Knew you were getting in too deep but you didn’t care. Maybe down the road one day it would hurt but for now, you would be happy with anything he gave you.
Suddenly Harry shifted and brought his arm to cradle you close as he laid you down flat on the couch, his thick cock still inside of you. But now he was hovering over you with a dark smile on his face, “I need to fuck you like you’re mine. Show you I mean it,” he said as he pulled your legs up, calves pressed over his shoulders, and began to roll his hips into you. The springs in the couch cushions danced under your back and creaked as he picked up the pace.
You coughed out a moan and squished your exposed tits together. You still had on your shirt, tugged up above your tits, and your underwear, and Harry still had his clothes on, while his shirt was unbuttoned and his pants were down past his bottom. You were both the picture of neediness, not even bothering to take the time to undress fully.
Harry held onto the back of your thighs as he plunged in and pulled back to his tip, before plowing his cock into the hilt again. Every time his hips met the back of your thighs the sticky sound of your arousal on his cock was unmistakable.
He swatted at your thigh when you began to slip from his hold, your leg wobbling free from his shoulder, “Stay put. Keep your legs up,” he grunted.
You gasped and nodded, “Yes, sir…”
Every dip of himself into you felt divine. His cock pushing into your insides and slipping into your guts repeatedly was noisy and delicious.
Harry moaned, unable to hold back how good it felt to be inside of you.
You looked up at him and saw how gone he was. His soft raspberry lips were parted and his eyes were dark as he gasped and panted. His thrusts were becoming harder and sloppier and he was breathing hard. You wanted his come.
“Need it, Harry. Give it to me…” you whispered as you brought a hand up to his jaw and he kept his eyes on you. He was shaking with desire you could feel it.
“Fuck, honey…” he groaned and clenched his jaw. He wanted to make you come first but his own emotions were getting him keyed up and he was already leaking a steady stream of pre-come into your pussy with each stroke.
He stopped his motions and sucked in a sharp breath as he lowered a hand to your clit, “Need you to come first, okay? Then I’m gonna fill your pussy like you need, baby.”
With his thumb on your clit you cooed in ecstasy. You had no idea what you were saying as you felt electricity begin to thrum through your body, winding its way around your ribs and down your spine, and into your tummy where sparks began to turn to fire as he began thrusting into you again.
“Want you to fuck your come deep into my womb. Breed my pussy, sir…” You moaned your words unable to stop it.
Harry grunted and he popped his eyes open to look down at you in shock. He knew you were on birth control and knew it was highly improbable but still, your words had him reeling and feeding his breeding kink, something that had been dormant for many years. You tended to awaken old feelings he once relished in.
And he wasn’t sure if he actually want to get you knocked up but just hearing that fed into something deep and instinctual that had been pushed down. Something primal. You had unleashed a tsunami of emotions and now this?
He began to hammer into you and your legs fell from his shoulders as he fucked himself down into you so hard you saw stars and you gurgled as you came around him, unable to voice your dirty thoughts as your pussy pulsed and squeezed around him.
“Fuck!” Harry barked loudly when he felt you come and he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you’d tapped into, “Gonna knock you up. Fuck you til your all bred and full with my cock and my babies. That what you want? Stuffed full of me in every fucking way?”
Harry throbbed as he finally poured into you, pushing his cock into you as deep as he could manage, balls tucked up against your bum as he whimpered with each tight roll of his hips upward. Imagining his come seeping into you and having it stick. Getting you pregnant. Making you his forever.
He collapsed over you and slid his tongue into your mouth as you brought your arms around his back to keep him close.
Pure hedonistic, rapturous oblivion.
Your heart pounded as he kissed you and you felt him trembling in your arms just as you were in his.
You longed to speak the words you knew you felt but it wasn’t right. You’d want him to say it first. Wanted him to admit it. Wanted him to want you.
But Harry was feeling it all heavy and deeply just the same. His own longing to show you exactly what he felt and that even though he’d play off those words he spoke as he came inside of you, he meant it in a way. He’d love to see you pregnant with his babies. Have you as his own for good. Tell you what he felt deep down.
You smiled into the kiss and Harry pushed himself up to look down at you.
“Just what I needed, Harry. Always know how to make me feel so so good.” You pushed your fingers into his hair and gazed into his pretty eyes and watched as his grin widened.
“Mmm… Ditto. Need you more than just once a week, baby. I did mean that you know.”
You bit your lip and closed your eyes to let that idea sink in a bit. Harry grunted as he moved and you suddenly felt a pinch at the back of your thigh and you laughed, opening your eyes.
“Did you hear me?”
You nodded, “Yes, sir. Three times a week is what you said. That sounds like as close to perfection as I could ask for.”
Harry nudged his nose to yours and let out a soft breath, “Just want more of you, baby.”
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ginevrapng · 6 months
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you're alone with james in his room, lying in his bed and playing with his hair while he's laying his head on you. you've always loved playing with his hair and he's always loved you playing with it, he finds it relaxing and his hair is so silky and soft.
one of the many perks of him being head boy is that he has a separate room so he doesn't have to dorm with people anymore. he doesn't think there's a problem with sharing a room with his friends but when you used to come up to his room to spend time with him someone else would always be there talking to you, stealing your attention. he could handle when remus or sirius brought people back for the night with simple silencing charms and closing of the curtains but it was a different story when he wanted to see only you and instead you included everyone in the conversations you were having, you might have even ended up on one of the others bed. he wanted you all to himself. now that he's head boy he's gotten his wish and he gets all your attention.
james is so comfortable he could fall asleep. with the combination of you playing with his messy hair, him getting to feel your warmth and your cute squishy tummy underneath his head, he's in heaven. there's no place he'd rather be than with you.
you can tell that james is close to falling asleep due to him starting to talk less and when he does he does it languidly. "mmph, you're so comfy and soft."
you giggle at that, " 'm glad to hear it jamie. y'know if you end up falling asleep i'll do the same."
as you say that you hear sirius swinging the door open, followed by remus and peter. james grumbles at the noise and turns his head away from the door so he's laying with his cheek pressed up against you and nuzzles you. "you should of knocked sirius," remus scolds him.
"oh, give over. it's not like they were doing anything," sirius retorts.
james grabs hold of your waist tightly, silently wishing for them to leave and him to be able to continue nearly falling asleep on you. "yeah sirius, next time knock." james' heart beats quickly and his breathing hitches. is this a confession? "we could of been talking shit about you or conspiring against you." james wants to feel let down that it's not a confession about how you might have been together in ways that would constitute a silencing charm and closing of curtains, but he can't, you're so cute, just so very you, he laughs and true smile appears on his face, where his eyes crinkle at the corners with cheeks raised high.
"you may have forgotten prongs, because obviously i so rudely interrupted you, but we've got a prank planned with snivellus right now," sirius looks at you both and smirks.
"i thought you've been more careful with your pranks recently guys. why are you pranking snape?" you sit up and look at them all.
"because, my dear, snivellus deserves it," sirius replies leaning against the wall. james narrows his eyes at the term of endearment sirius called you, it went unnoticed by you but sirius noticed and smirked again.
you roll your eyes at 'snivellus deserves it', snape always deserves it but james said he'd try and be more careful this year since he's been appointed head boy and remus is a prefect as well. they said if they're going to be pulling anymore pranks they'll be more discrete but you don't think it will be discrete with the way sirius is talking.
"it was james' idea actually," remus adds on.
james sits up and he comes to his own defence quickly, "he a thousand percent deserves it this time."
you cross your arms and look at him annoyance, "you're not going to tell me why this time are you?"
"no, but you'll have to believe me on this." you grab hold of his arm and pout before dramatically falling back on the bed. james grins again as he takes that as a yes and pulls you back up. "are you gonna stay here until after 'm back?"
you shake your head and shuffle closer to him, " it's getting late jamie, i'm going back to m' dorm."
he thought you'd say that but he also had hoped that you'd stay and he'd come back with you asleep in his bed. "alright love, see you tomorrow morning?"
you nod you head and kiss his cheek before getting up, "night everyone, night jamie. please try not to get into any trouble tonight."
"can't make any promises," sirius tells you before remus whacks his arm.
"we'll be fine," peter reassures you.
"yeah, i'll keep everyone in check," remus tells you.
they successfully carried out their prank that night without getting caught. that morning you see snape with bright pink hair and the marauders grinning brightly. james grins the most, payback for calling my best friend someone you wouldn't touch with a ten-foot broomstick when rosier asked if you liked her and were friends. like she'd ever, EVER want to be friends with you, like she'd ever, EVER even tolerate you.
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ghoststyles · 3 months
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You Should Probably Leave
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This one shot is inspired by You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton! Hope you enjoy.
3.4K. Smut. Fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, degradation, the works. hehehe.
The feeling of the pair of lips gently ghosting down your collar bone sends you back in time. A simpler time. Two college students madly in love, unsure where their lives would take them. 
You smile gently, drinking in the scene around you; a warm fire lit, a nearly empty bottle of red wine, and a pair of strong hands dancing around your post-baby curves. Throwing your head back, you gasp when he nips and sucks at the soft part of your neck. Pawing at his lap, his hard prick creates a noticeable tent in his pants. 
You had a long day. The baby is teething, your nipples are dry and cracked, and you haven’t had an adult conversation in what feels like weeks. It’s been Miss Rachel and Cocomelon until your ears bleed. You’re not sure if it was the wine, but it’s like you’ve been brought back to life. It helps that your husband, an esteemed surgeon, is on his 3rd 24-hour call shift in a two-week span, giving you plenty of time to occupy yourself.
It started off innocent, your friendship with Harry. Your heart stopped when you realized who moved into the house across the street just 6 months ago. The other moms fawned over the new single bachelor in the neighborhood, not realizing it was Harry. Your Harry. Your college boyfriend who you thought you’d run off into the sunset with and travel the world. 
In an effort to establish that you’re a married woman, you brought a fresh plate of cookies to his door, your husband in tow. Harry’s slightly perplexed and shocked look on his face when he opened the front door that day was quickly wiped away when your husband introduced yourselves to him. 
It wasn’t until a few days later when you got Harry alone. Would he act like he has no idea who you are? Or would it be like a single day hasn’t passed since you left him at your college graduation, not knowing about the ring in his pocket as your parents and grandparents celebrated around you?
You were going on different paths in life, after all. Harry was a risk taker; you, on the other hand, are someone who craves routine and discipline. That’s what you repeat to yourself, trying to convince your brain that he’s not the love of your life. Even 6 years later. 
You approach Harry as he is getting his mail one day. Looking around, making sure the nosy moms weren’t around, or your husband isn’t miraculously home from work. 
“Hi, Sunny,” Harry says, swallowing thickly. 
His words send a punch to your gut. The nickname he called you for over 4 years hits the same, even after all this time. Your husband’s terms of endearment don’t hold a candle to this. 
Hesitantly, you cross the street, your arms crossing over your chest to try and slow your beating heart. 
“Hi, neighbor. How’d that happen?”
“Are you the only one allowed to come back and live in their college town?”
Ice cold. You weren’t prepared for that kind of response. 
“Not at all. Just unexpected, I guess.”
“I think it’s my turn to do something unexpected.”
You nod, pursing your lips in anxiety. You turn to go back in your house, feeling defeated. 
“I don’t have social media. I didn’t know you lived here,” he replies gruffly. “If you want to come over for coffee tomorrow morning, you can. I work from home.”
“Okay,” you reply softly, unsure if this is a real invite. Scurrying into the house, you wipe away a small tear that formed in the corner of your eye. Fucking postpartum emotions. 
Your racing thoughts are brought to an end when Harry snakes his hand over your stomach. He moans at the excess skin and fat, knowing you brought a life into this world. Weekly coffee dates between neighbors turned into wine nights when the baby goes down. All unbeknownst to your husband and neighbors. 
He finally slides his hands in your panties, gently swirling your clit, sending your head back on his shoulder. The stress melts off your body when he inserts his middle finger. 
“Mhm, squeeze me, Sunny. Take what you need,” Harry pants in your ear quietly. The baby monitor rests on the side table next to you. 
High-pitched whines escape your mouth as he massages your g-spot gently. The angle isn’t allowing him to speed up his thrusts. You come, loudly, a few minutes later as Harry sponges more kisses on your neck and temple. 
Shifting to your knees, you simultaneously pull his pants down, his boxers following suit. His prick bobs up, smacking him in the stomach. You nearly keel over, excited to have your mouth on him, as if you haven’t been doing this several nights a week when your husband is at work. 
The ruddy tip is dribbling pre come, the perfect lubricant. Since he knows you’re dirty, you spit on him anyway. Harry lets out a mixture of a sigh and whine, desperate to feel your warm mouth on him. You take the plunge, trying to shove as much of him down as you can. It’s hard, but you manage to slightly swipe your nose on the hair at his base. 
He’s a man now. He was back then, too. But he’s a man now. The slight belly; a contrast from his rock hard abs in college. And his face is aged, but in a good way. His stamina remains unchanged. A few more sucks and pumps of his dick and balls sends him spiraling. Ropes of his come hit the back of your throat. You absolutely keen as he grunts and thrusts one last time.
With a pop, you slide your mouth off, looking at him with hazy eyes. You roll to the side, laying your chin on his meaty thigh, just above his tiger tattoo. 
Harry sighs, knowing what comes next.
I know it ain’t all that late but you should probably leave. And I recognize the look in your eyes, yeah, you should probably leave.
You cover up your bare chest with your sweater, pulling your discarded sleep shorts back on.
“He’ll be home soon, and I want to feed the baby one more time before bed. I hope you understand.”
Harry nods, his face unwilling to let on how much your words hurt. He stands, pulling up his pants and boxers, slipping his sweatshirt overhead. 
Harry understood the first time. And the second. And even the third. But, here you both are, months later, entertaining this completely heinous affair. But, he just can’t fucking let you go.
‘Cause I know you, and you know me. And we both know where this is gonna lead
You excused the lingering; the extra kisses. You’ve even let Harry stay in your bed until the minute your husband pulled into the driveway. It’s gone on too long, and you need to set boundaries. But you can’t fucking let him go.
You want me to say that I want you to stay, so you should probably leave
You know it’s wrong. You’re not naive. It’s not even about hurting your husband. The unmitigated amount of guilt that comes from leading Harry on is more than enough to send you straight to hell. 
It was dumb luck, Harry moving in across the street. He had to hear about your new life through mutual college friends for years as hestruggled in relationship after relationship. You went off and married a future doctor. A sure thing. At graduation, Harry scored a job in tech. Sure, the field was new at the time, but it wasn’t like he was taking a major risk. You got cold feet and fled.
Harry leans down to place one more chaste kiss on your lips before he wordlessly slips out the door toward his own house. You stare out the window after him until a shrill cry rings over the baby monitor, catapulting you into your reality.
And it’s hard to resist, just one kiss, then you should probably leave
~
When Harry knocks on your door around 11PM just two nights after the last encounter with an overnight bag in hand, you’re not sure what to say. The baby went down easier tonight, allowing you to feel more relaxed.
“I talked to him yesterday at the gym. He said he’d be on call at the hospital until tomorrow morning.”
You nod, confirming what he’s saying. Your husband kissed you goodbye after a failed attempt at intimacy this morning. You made up some excuse of feeling off, so he jerked himself in the shower while you laid in fetal position, the guilt eating you alive. 
Harry storms past you, immediately heading to your bedroom. The bedroom you share with your husband. The bedroom just down the hall from your sleeping baby. You sigh, closing the front door gently. 
Harry places his bag on the chair in the corner, taking note of the clothing strewn around the room. He’d hate to leave behind an article of his clothing that would expose their secret. Harry pulls his shirt off by the collar, baring his chest to you. 
It never fails to smack the wind out of you. His toned, tattooed abdomen is illuminated by the lamp in the corner. You place your palms on his pecs, leaning in for a hungry kiss. You can tell he doesn’t want to talk tonight. 
“Strip,” He demands in between kisses.
You meet his gaze, giving your best puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t buy it. You peel off your sleep shirt and shorts, leaving yourself in a pair of white panties.
“Face down, ass up, Sunny.”
A shrill whine escapes your frowning mouth. You put up little protest and situate yourself on the bed. It’s tantalizing, the hold he has on you. The history. The lore. The taboo nature of your relationship. If that’s what you can call it.
You crawl onto the bed, ignoring the framed photo from your wedding day on the bedside table. Harry stands at the foot of the bed, admiring your plump ass, a small wet patch forming in the gusset of the panties. 
Harry lightly palms your ass as you jam your head further into the comforter. He squeezes and pulls at the skin, debating where to start. He starts by rubbing his middle and ring fingers over the wet patch.
Increasing the pressure, he leans over you, his lips tickling the shell of your ear, “I’m gonna eat you out, fuck you, fill you up, and we’re gonna keep these panties on. A little treat for when your husband comes home.”
Fuck. 
“Harry, fuck,” you stutter.
He’s now face to face with your backside. You feel one lewd, long, lick up your folds - through your underwear. It’s so, so good. In between licks, you hear him speak again.
“You know what I can’t figure out?” He asks, almost laughing to himself.
You dare not to respond, instead focus on his assault to your pussy. His grip on your thighs is that of the jaws of life, destined to leave marks.
“I’ve been fucking tearing this pussy up for,” he trails off. “Months, now? And your dumb fuck husband still has no idea? Not a clue about our history? How you were mine first? Does he even pay a crumb of attention to you?”
You cry out after a big swipe, the tickling feeling of the damp fabric on your pussy lips driving you wild. You’re holding back big, fat crocodile tears. You’re in this situation because you want to have your cake and eat it, too. 
“Tell me, Sunny. Does he fuck you with the lights off? Or a quickie in the shower? If he’s the love of your life, then why do you have to get attention from me? Hm?”
Fisting the comforter, the tears are now falling rapidly. You choke out a sob and clench your pussy around nothing. 
Again, you don’t answer his questions. Instead, he picks up the pace of his licks, focusing directly on your clit. He knows the left side is more sensitive than the right, so his tongue stays swirling in that direction. 
You come, quickly and loudly, smacking your hand against the bed. Harry chuckles to himself bitterly. Your head is still spinning, but you feel Harry peel back the gusset of the panties and slide the tip of his cock through the folds. 
He still has his pants on, but the buttons are popped open and his cock is sticking out over the band of his underwear. The edge of the lacy fabric touching the sensitive head makes him grunt out a moan. 
“Always so fucking needy. You need me, don’t you, Sunny? Tell me,” he mocks.
“I need you, Harry,” you whimper, your body ready to collapse to the bed. 
“Mm-mm. Tell me who you need right now, Sunny.”
“You, Daddy. I need you,” your wobbly lip makes you sound pathetic. 
He plunges in at your words, both of you gasping at the same time. You’re made for one another; You’re the lock and he’s the key. Even on the best nights with your husband, he gives you a mediocre performance at best. Your thrusts are never timed, and he refuses to talk dirty in your ear. 
“That’s right, Sunny. Good girl,” he mocks you again, his thrusts sending shockwaves throughout your body. You can feel his thumb trace around the edge of your asshole, making you mewl.
Harry leans over you, enveloping his body over yours. His lips ghost your ear again. The tone of his voice is low and sultry.
“Y’know what I think, Sunny girl?” he asks, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. “I bet you wish that sweet little baby in the other room was mine. Bet you wish it was me you walked down the aisle to.”
You gasp, heart stopping at the mention of your baby. Up until this point, you’ve been able to compartmentalize this part of your life. You start to protest, but he slips his right hand around your throat, squeezing gently. 
“Hm? Based on the way you’re squeezing me, I think I’m right,” the smug tone of voice is glaringly obvious. “Think of the life we could’ve had, Sunny. I think about it every day of my fucking life. Would’ve given you the world.”
Like a devil on my shoulder you keep whisperin’ in my ear. And it’s gettin’ kinda hard for me to do the right thing here. I wanna do the right thing, baby
“I know,” you finally choke out. Your conversations during your romps remain light, usually. But, tonight. Tonight feels different. His grip on your throat tightens as you feel him start to slow his thrusts. "Fuck, Harry. I know."
“Thought I’d hit the lottery when you and your husband knocked on my door that day. Thought I’d been given a second chance. Finally have you forever.” 
He’s fully panting at this point, and you’re unsure how he’s even talking. You clench around him, making him moan again. He kisses your neck, sweat freely dripping all over both of you. Instead of burying deep in you, he pulls out slightly as he comes, coating the inside and outside of your pussy, and dripping into the panties. 
It’s lewd, and disgusting. But, it’s everything. 
Harry’s lifts his body from his place on top of you, the slight breeze his shifting caused making you shiver. Harry moves to a half standing position to grab his phone off the bedside table. He snaps a quick photo of the scene in front of him.
You look ethereal. Your perfect, plump ass is complimented by the underwear now doused in his scent and spunk. The contrast of the dry and wet parts of the panties has him wanting to jerk off again. 
Reluctantly, he pulls out, and uses his thumb to snap the fabric back in place. He doubts your husband will even give you the time of day once he’s home. But, it’d be an epic way for your secret to be exposed. 
It’s nearing 1AM, so Harry stands to go into your ensuite to fetch a towel. Now, you’ve fully collapsed into the bed. He gently wipes just enough cum from around your pussy and thighs. He leaves a majority of it for the treasure hunt.
You finally build up the strength and courage to pick up a discarded T-shirt on the floor. At the same time, he’s putting on a fresh pair of boxers from his bag. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eye as you start reeling over the degrading words that came out of his mouth. You have every right to be disgusted by him, but you can’t bring yourself to be. Because he’s not wrong. 
You’d made a mistake. You knew about 6 months into your marriage. You loved your husband. Or maybe the idea of him. You met him when he was 2 years into his surgical residency. The perks and the bragging rights of dating a doctor got to your head. Every date, every argument and every moment of adversity had you wondering what it’d have been like with Harry. 
Life with Harry was easy. You got the best of both worlds; a hot boyfriend and a fun social life. But, when your sister introduced you to a man with a full 8-year plan carved out, you chose the safe option. What a fuck-up that was. 
Harry climbs into the bed next to you, still not saying a word. That’s the thing. With Harry, you don’t have to. Your energies and emotions just work. He gently pulls you down so you’re laying horizontally on your side, and he slots his legs between yours, nuzzling his face in your neck. 
In this moment, everything feels right. 
~
Harry didn’t sleep much. He tried. But, something deep inside him was gnawing at his soul. His eyes were closed the whole night, but he never quite crossed the threshold into sleep. 
He still had all his five senses; the sliver of light from the lamppost outside; the slight white noise coming from the radiator; the smell of your shampoo mixed with the lewd activities of tonight; the feel of your hot skin touching his; and finally, the residual taste of your pussy on his tongue. 
The sun is rising now, signaling the end of your time together.
The sliver of light on your frame has his heart bursting with adoration. It’s true, what he’d said before. He does think about what your future would’ve been like. Your long eyelashes cast shadows on your slightly cherub cheeks. You would’ve made beautiful children. Gone on memorable family trips. And at the end of the day, fucking love each other.
Sun on your skin, 6AM and I been watchin’ you sleep. And honey, I’m so afraid you’re gonna wake up and say that you should probably leave. 
A year ago, Harry thought you’d leave your husband by now. But, as time goes on, his odds of getting you back are getting less and less. His heart is breaking all over again. 
You feel him stir, so you turn over and smile at him. You run your hands up and down his bare chest, feeling every prickly hair. He smiles back at you, not saying a word.
You finally pipe up, a clear, sad tone, “Y’know how much I hate saying this.”
“I should probably leave.”
You nod sadly, placing a kiss on his chest. It’s honestly a miracle the baby hasn’t woken up yet. Harry kisses you, his thumb grabbing your chin. It lasts a few minutes until you pull away. Your husband is due home in less than 45 minutes.
I want you to stay, but you’ll probably say that you should probably leave.
You should probably leave. 
Harry rises to sit at the side of the bed, grabbing his phone. 6:12 AM. You think he’s fiddling with his phone to prolong his stay. His bag is already packed by the door. You smile to yourself, happy to have your lover by your side. He places one last kiss on your forehead.
Before Harry stands, he sends off an email to his realtor, confirming the sale of his house. $15,000 over asking price. It was a private showing, with an agreement that Harry would be out of the house in two weeks. 
He already purchased a home — Approximately 1,326 miles away from this one. Everything is set. His mind is made up.
Harry stands, grabbing his bag. He takes one last look at you as he stands in the doorframe, an unreadable look on his face.
“Bye, Sunny girl.”
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eveningepiphany · 9 months
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innocent | H.S oneshot
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my masterlist
summary: while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.
warnings: SMUT! thigh riding, dirty talk, handjob (m receiving), best friend! harry, and a whole lot of praise kink.
requested by @shqtteredcrystql1
a/n: i absolutely love this request. thank you so much to the lovely user above who pmed me with it. <3
———
You shake your head at yourself.
You had not thought any of this would lead to you feeling so suddenly.. needy. But it has?
You were sitting in the lounge room of the beach house you were staying in, watching a movie with Harry while both parts of your family had gone out for the evening.
You and Harry had opted to stay back. The crowded bars being not your vibe for the night, and wanting to just chill out at the house for a while.
The movie was not long beginning in the background on the TV, with bags of half eaten snacks resting on the wooden coffee table— not that you could see any of it, as it was to the back of you.
It started when Harry and you fought over the blanket on the couch.
Pulling it off eachother just to be difficult, and roughhousing until he proposed a quick solution when your fingers started prodding his rib cage as pay back.
“C’mere— c’mere!” He rushed out, hands up in defeat as you technically won the mini physical brawl. Even though you know if he really wanted to win, he would a hundred times over, given his strength.
You went still and frowned as he didn’t follow up with a verbal explanation, and just held hands out for you to come to.
“Why?” You said, slightly amused.
“Because.” He stated.
So you moved forward to him, his hands coming in contact with your hips, and seizing you forward.
Bringing you seated in his lap.
“I can’t actually watch the movie, H.” You flush at your positioning. His hands still bracketing your waist like it’s nothing.
Which you’re confused why you’re reacting like this.
This has never happened to you with anyone else. Only ever with Harry.
And it’s not the first time it’s happened with him. You get big feelings often when he’s near you. They come out of nowhere, when he touches you gently during conversation, or when he flashes you a dimple in his smile.
And this warm feeling will swell in your chest, bubble down into your stomach… and sometimes further. It will simmer down in between your legs.
Leaving you with this feeling of being hot and bothered, in a completely foreign way.
Usually it’s only faint. A quick, fleeting feeling for you. However you’ve never had yourself situated on his lap.
His strong and muscly thigh straight underneath you— mostly bare, his shorts riding up to leave the hair dusted skin visible. His tiger tattoo hidden under you.
“Sorry, want to turn around?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.
Your head snaps up from where you were looking at where your body met his— your pupils blown out a little.
Your eyes lock with his, and your reminded that this is your harry.
Your favourite person. Your best friend. Who has pretty green eyes, paired chocolatey brown curls that fall over them, and frame his gorgeous face.
Who smiles at you like this all the time, like you’re also his favourite person.
“Well i did want to watch 10 things I hate about you, instead of listening to it.” Your hands are resting on his shoulders, and he lets out a chuckle at your gentle quip.
“Alright, darling, let’s turn you around.” He laughs at you, rotating your body himself— handling you so that your facing the screen, your back plastered to the hard wall of his chest.
The new position evokes a flutter from your core, one completely unexpected to you.
And you’re hyperaware that there’s very little separating his leg from the sudden heat between yours, just a thin pair of sleep shorts.
“Better?” He asks casually into your ear, pulling the blanket to cover your laps.
“Yea, thank you.” You breathe out, sounding a little airy.
Your eyes find the screen, but your wholly distracted by his body.
His thumb circling your hip, the gentle breath from his nose hitting the back of your neck, and again, his thigh underneath you.
Your heart is stuttering.
You’re so— confused?
He’s your best friend. You know that, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling like this. If it’s normal?
Another concern of if he can feel it. Feel you.
The heat radiating from you.
You zone out a little, eyes locked on the movie screen. Eventually your breathing evening out for the most part, as you adjust to what was happening.
Focusing momentarily on the comfort of your surroundings. Harry practically enveloping you, the feeling of the couch pillows warm and soft around you.
The gentle hum of the waves crashing from the nearby ocean, sounding through the cracked open window.
Which the breeze being carried through it is just the right temperature, and just strong enough to have the candle flames flickering on top of he TV cabinet.
There’s a warm glow cast across the room from the array of candles, and salt lamp turned on in the corner.
Everything about it was homely, and comforting. And you tapped into the euphoric amount of bliss that surrounded you.
After a few minutes, Harry moved, shuffling his hips back to prop himself up.
His thigh underneath you dragging your thin sleep shorts along your centre, the pressure of his muscles rippling as he adjusted with your weight atop him causing an unbelievably pleasurable feeling to strike through you.
A whine slips past your lips before you can even stop it. The desperate sound filling the room, and it’s too late to take it back. Because you know he’s heard it with the way he stills immediately.
Embarrassment starts to flicker through you hardly a second later.
“Y/N?” He seems to almost whisper from behind you.
“God— sorry— I don’t know… I don’t know why that happened.”
He laughs, the sound golden and dipped in honey as it enters your ears, “Did you just moan?”
“No!” Your skin is flaming as you deny quickly.
He pushes his leg up to press into you again, and you purse your lips together as you try so hard not to let a sound out, or roll your hips instinctively against him.
You fail with the latter of those two things, your body pushing into his leg before you can even try to stop it.
“Hm, what’s gotten you all worked up, darling?” He let’s his hands run up along the side of your rib cage, and is admittedly very curious to what your feeling right now.
He was surprised at first, but fuck, your innocent little whimper has him feeling like he’s got a point to prove.
And he wants so badly to have you come undone under his touch.
“I— fuck…” you lean your head back into his shoulder, unable to form words.
His eyes skate down the profile of your gorgeous face, and further along your arched body.
“Want me to do something about the heat between those legs of yours, baby? Can feel how hot and bothered you are.”
“Harry…” you sigh out as you begin to give into the situation, “please.”
“Alright lovely, since you’re rubbing yourself all over my leg, keep going.”
You frown a little— well it feels good as far as your concerned now. But your unsure how to just continue.
“Here,” he turns you around again, and for a second smiles at your flushed and flustered face.
All the sudden the eye contact has you tingling again, his face enough to have you a mess in his hands.
His hands guide yours to rest on his shoulders, and then his own slide back down to your hips.
“Now, just keep doing what you were before hm, rub yourself on my thigh okay?”
He watches as you experiment with the movement, rolling forward on with your body and moaning at the sensation that it evokes in you.
“Oh.“ you grind against him again, harder this time.
“Oh—“
You clench, and he pushes his leg up into you with a moan from himself as he feels your cunt clamping around nothing.
“Fuck, y’gonna tell me why you’re so wet?” He grabs the back of your neck so you’re looking at him.
“I don’t know…” you whine, humping along his thigh. The thin fabric of your shorts going damp from your arousal.
“Your thighs. Your hands. You.” You speculate aloud, watching his pupils blow out with desire.
“My thigh under your cunt get you all worked up?”
“Yes— yes!” You groan out, jaw falling lax as your clit gets caught just right between the shorts and his thigh.
“Baby, take the shorts off. Wanna feel y’soak onto my leg.”
You hardly hear him, still pushing onto him until he physically has to lift you up.
He chuckles as you whine at the absence of contact.
“Tell me, Y/N, Is this okay?” He confirms, pulling your leg from in between his, so now you’re laying practically bridal style in his arms.
“Please. Take them off.” You nod eagerly, back arching in his hold.
He laughs, hair falling again across his brow.
“Let me savour this okay. Look too pretty for your own good.” He mumbles, leaning down to let his lips meet the skin of your neck.
You groan as he sucks the skin into his mouth, and his hand skates up the hem of your shirt, running between the valley of your braless breasts.
“If you need to stop,” he licks over the skin on your neck he was just abusing with his teeth, “let me know, love.”
“I won’t, please keep going…”
You hiss as his hand wraps around your tit, letting his finger tweak the peak of your nipple before running it back down, past your belly button to settle between your still covered pussy.
“Where were we,” he hums gently, rubbing you over your soaked through shorts.
“Off, Harry, please.” Your sentences weren’t properly formed, and you scraped your nails down the muscle of his tattooed bicep.
“God, listen to you. Can you hear how whiney your pretty voice sounds?”
He says it in such a way it sounds like a compliment. The typical connotation of whiney being negative. But he says it like you’re an angel for it.
He peels your shorts down your legs, and audibly groans at the sight of your naked cunt in front of him.
“I should’ve known you didn’t even have a pair of panties on.” He gently taps over your bare clit, and the light touch still has you squirming.
He rubs you a little, allowing the pads of his fingers to tease your entrance. Not before man handling you back on top of his thigh.
Your blindsided by how amazing everything feels.
“Alright darling, use me. Grind that wet little cunt on my thigh to get off.” His words have you fluttering around nothing, and him feeling your bare entrance clenching atop his skin makes his already hard cock twitch beneath the waistband of his shorts.
His hand comes down to palm over himself, delivering a gentle squeeze to try and relieve some of the pressure down there.
You pant as you resume a relatively fast pace, aided by the fact your arousal is dampening his leg. Making it easier to slide yourself on.
“Mmm, god. It feels so good!” You moan out, hands coming to his shoulders to brace yourself.
“So does your pussy on my leg, baby. You’re so wet for me. Who would have thought my little Y/N would get so worked up over sitting on my thigh of all things.” He praises, hands coming to cup the swell of your ass
“No one’s ever— fuck— made me feel like this.” You cry, the stimulation along your clit euphoric.
“Ever, huh?”
You nod, “Ever.”
He could just moan at the thought. That his sweet thing is completely foreign to sexual experiences with other people. That you got all wet on his thigh and had no idea why.
The idea that you weren’t sure why you were trying so hard not to push your pussy onto him. And that you’re probably so sensitive down there, so reactive.
That last one has him struggling not to place you on that coffee table and fuck your hole with his tongue.
He only held back because the sight of your riding his thigh was indescribably hot.
“Good girl f’me, let me help you, make y’come all on my thigh.” He hummed, pushing his leg up to add some more pressure on your clit.
“Harry!” Your pretty voice moaned out as his hands came to guide your hips, to push them faster and harder against his skin.
The control he was taking over you was enough to make you almost drip. Because even if he was so gentle about it, it was insane.
He pushed your bucking hips down, and his leg up, making a delicious pressure that had an unfathomable heat simmer between your legs.
“I wanna come on your leg, Harry, please…” you’re pleading him, hips messily fucking over his skin.
“Yea, baby? My perfect little slut.” He tests out the nickname, watching as your whole body reacts with a quiver at his dirty mouth.
“Oh, you really do like it dirty…” he realises out loud, smirking as you moan.
“Look down at your cunt riding my leg, humping all over it.” He gently laces his hand in your hair, tilting your head down, “How about when you’re done, I get you on your knees and make you clean it up?”
Your mouth goes slack, and it’s baffling to hear such words coming from him.
Yet he could ask you to do anything at this point and you’re convinced you wouldn’t even hesitate before doing it.
“I will, I will!” You nod, thighs quivering on each side of his own.
“Cmon pretty, fuck,” he bucks into his hand that was stroking over his fabric-clad cock, “wanna watch you come. Hear you cry out my name.”
Your clit was pulsing along his now drenched tattoo, and you could feel your muscles tightening in your stomach.
The simmering feeling in your core that you had originally started with has turned into a pot that was about to boil over.
“Harry, ohmygod—“ you whined, falling further into his chest, hands coming up to intertwine with his hair.
He pushed his thigh up against you, and the pressure finally peaked, and you teetered on the brink of orgasm.
You were moaning into his ear, and he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for that final little nudge.
“Good fucking girl, let it all go f’me.” He growls into your ear, accent husky, and the words zip straight to where you needed it.
You let out a loud moan of his name, nails dragging down along his shoulders as you messily grind through the pleasure.
He is groaning at the sight. Just as fucking beautiful as he imagined.
Your back arched, and he could feel your cunt pulsating around his leg. It was filthy, and he loved every damn second of it.
“Oh, god— harry, please!” You whimpered, your core jutting against him still, but now with slower more irratic movements.
“That’s it, ride it out on me love. Fuck.” He curses as you absentmindedly drag your lips down the column of his neck.
You slowly come to a stop, the stimulation too much for you now. And your panting as you pull back to look at Harry, and the mess you made atop his thigh.
You lock eyes with him, his hair is messy, and cheeks are flushed. You smile at him, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his also smiling lips.
You glance down between your legs, spotting immediately the glistening skin of Harry’s leg, and how his finger reaches to get a sample and bring it to his lips.
Watching, he sucks his finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.
“Taste like a dream, my darling.”
He gathers some more on the same finger, bringing it up to your own lips, letting you suck on them.
“Mm, good isn’t it? Look so good with your mouth wrapped ‘round m’fingers.” He praises, eyes darkening at the sight of your lips sucking his long digits.
You slide off them, taking in his beautiful appearance again. How the warm glow of the lounge room light is casting over his tan skin.
You’re still a little muddled about everything that just occurred. And that the little crush that’s always festered in your head when it comes it Harry has just led you here.
Him being the first person to ever see your pussy, and make you come. On his thigh of all places.
“Thank you…” you flush, a little shyness coming out.
“Don’t get shy with me baby, just watched y’come on my thigh. No room for that.” He smiles, pulling you into his chest.
“Now,” he begins again, stroking the small of your back, “let’s go get cleaned up before everyone suddenly comes home to you still half-naked on my lap.”
You laugh a little as he pecks your cheek, “then we can come back to the couch, and rewind 10 things I hate about you and share some ice cream, m’kay?”
“And uhm, what about you?” You gesture to the tent in his shorts.
“Worry about that another time, alright lovely. Not tonight, that was all for you.” He confirms.
“It’ll just… go away?” You frown, confused— and a little embarrassed you didn’t know what would happen with it.
“Should mostly. Might still have a semi, since all I’m gonna be able to think about is what y’taste like. But again, you can worry about me another day.”
You shake your head, “i want to worry about you now though…”
He blinks slowly, “Fuck, well if you keep bloody begging me to get y’hands on my cock, I’m not gonna be strong enough to tell ya no.”
“Never, uh, done this before. As long as that doesn’t put you off.” You shrug, watching his green eyes flick between your hand and his erection.
“Don’t stress, darling. I have been pretty much about to come at the sight of you, I don’t think it’s gonna take much.”
“And for the record,” he rests a hand on your hip, “nothing could put my off of you. Especially when it comes to you touching me.”
You nod, slowly. Still a little unsure as you reach down to pull the waistband of his shorts from his laurel-adorning hips.
He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, far enough that his cock springs out of them.
Your lips parted at the sight, his flushed tip, with beads of precum seeping out, blotting along down his shaft.
His cock was as gorgeous as you’d imagined. Because of course a pretty boy like him would have such a nice cock.
Not that you have much to judge off, but if the smooth skin and the sudden overproduction of saliva in your mouth was any inkling… you would say he was perfect.
Your hand reached to stroke along him, noticing the lack of lubrication.
You put to use the gathering pool of spit in your mouth, and you pursed your lips to let some of it drop down onto his tip.
He had a whole body reaction as he felt your warm spit slip down the head of his cock. A moan sounded from him, and he sounded like an angel.
“Fuckkk, already spitting on my cock. Little minx y’are.” His eyes went half lidded, and he fought to keep them open. Just to watch your all too curious expression and your hands glide over his cock.
“Faster?” You asked, looking for advice.
“Squeeze it, baby. Then stroke it.” He directed, struggling to form the words.
Then struggling even more not to cry out as you did just as he asked.
“Y/N.” He hissed, bucking his hips up as you started stroking his cock with a moderate pace.
“You look very pretty.” You meekly stated, admiring the way his face has flushed and lips have parted all from your touch.
You speed up your hands, watching intensely as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth in attempt to control himself.
“My god, your hands…” He moans, arm coming to drape over his forehead as he rolled his hips into your warm hand.
You took liberty to swipe your thumb over his tip, and your eyebrows raising as his whole body shudders.
“To know you’re fucking my cock with your spit and your hand.” He sighs out, heat building in his stomach.
“Can I touch here too?” Your hand gently ghosts over where his balls are, and you’re not sure if that’s somewhere he wants you to touch.
“Fuck yes, baby. Ohhh god, I’m gonna come so fast.” He is moaning suddenly without care as you massage him attentively.
Dragging your hands back up to his cock, you continue to stroke and rub along him.
“Want to see you finish too…” you smile, also excited to see the way his body reacts when he comes.
“Cant wait to paint your hand in my fuckin’ come.” He pants, hand gripping the couch cushion near his head.
He can probably feel you getting wet on him again. Seeing him like this has you a mess.
“Fuck— any faster and I’m gonna come on your hand Y/N.” He moans, now his thighs being the ones trembling.
You fuck his cock with your fist faster, in awe of the way he moans out as his orgasm hits him.
Ropes of his warm come spurting out his tip, spilling down your hand as you keep up the pace.
Waiting until he whines with the overstimulation.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He shakes his head, blissed out from his orgasm.
Hazily taking in the way you lick a stripe up your thumb, where his come had landed.
You enjoyed the flavour of it, salty and overall pleasant on your tastebuds.
“Can I?” You leant down, wanting more off his cock.
“God, love— wanting to clean the come off my damn cock it tasted that good.” He praises you, letting your mouth gently slide over his softening dick.
You make quick work of the mess, and he remarks shortly, “fuck, gonna have to spend some more time later with your mouth wrapped around me. You’re like an angel.”
Once you’re done, you pull his shorts back over him and watch him smile, dragging you in for another soft kiss— regardless of whether his dick was just in your mouth.
“Alright pretty, let’s get cleaned up before you start grinding anymore on my thigh. Can feel you already getting wet again.”
“Yes, Harry.” You whisper, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.
———
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cardansriddle · 1 year
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Teach Me - ( tom riddle x fem!reader )
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part 2
Summary: Feeling awfully inexperienced, you ask Tom to teach you how to kiss.
Warnings: friends to lovers trope. old-fashioned mindset because it's the 1940s. sexual tension. implied smut but no actual smut.
A/N: It's 4 AM and I had to quickly write this idea before I could lose motivation. I love this "teach me how to kiss" trope so much so let me know your thoughts abt this!
buymeacoffee <3
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Tom's low voice carried around you as you lay your head against a tree, eyes shut closed to enjoy the serene atmosphere of the day. You barely paid attention to the meaning behind the words he was reading from his book, instead letting the soothing voice lull you to a relaxed state.
You adored these little moments with him. Your friendship with Tom Riddle was an unexpected one, yet not unpleasant. Whatever had bloomed between you two was unique, and you cherished whatever attention he could give you because you knew it was only you that received these rare moments with him.
"I'm bored." You suddenly interrupted him mid-sentence, huffing and opening your eyes to stare at the thick branches above you.
"What do you want me to do about it?" The wizard asked dryly, causing you to turn your head towards him. The sight of his profile greeted you, and you enviously traced your eyes over the perfect slope of his nose and the sharp edges of his jawline. Truly, it was unfair that he had been blessed with such pretty features.
"Maybe we should put aside the book? We've been reading almost every day now." You suggested, continuing to stare at him while his gaze remained glued to the pages of the book. "Tom."
"Hm?"
"You are not even listening to me!" You hit his arm at his offensive behaviour. The action seemed to snap him out of his trance and he met your gaze at last, eyes dark and holding an expression of bemusement. "This is dull. Let us do something else."
"Do what?"
You shrugged. "Talk?"
He seemed to contemplate his options, knowing if he kept reading you would persistently annoy him until he could no longer focus but if he complied with your request, he would at least receive peace of mind. With a tired sigh, as if he was trying to appease an insolent child, he snapped his book shut and turned to face you fully, causing you to smile in triumph at your small victory.
"Well, talk then." He gestured with his hand for you to speak, but you only glared at him.
"No. I always talk. Perhaps you should tell me about one of your adventures. Or stories. Anything."
He almost whined your name in protest but you hushed him. An idea came to your mind, something that you had been meaning to question him about, and you sat up eagerly. "You could tell me what Xavier and Avery were talking about yesterday? Remember? Before you told them to shut up?"
Tom only stared at you, his lips beginning to quirk up in a half-smirk. "Those are not for your innocent ears. Or any ladies' for that matter."
Instead of discouraging you, his words only caused your curiosity to grow. "Oh come on, Tom! I thought we told and shared everything with each other." You pouted, eyes pleading for him to indulge you in those secrets.
"You must stop." He tried to warn you but you decided to settle your head into the curve between his neck and shoulder, to attempt and soften him enough for him to speak.
"Walburga always talk about stuff like that. We are not as naive as you men think us to be."
He scoffed and averted his eyes down to his closed book. "Walburga does more than talk about it and I would advise you to steer clear from her presence."
"Did Xavier and Walburga lay together?"
He stiffened, and you lifted your head up from his shoulder to look up at him. He seemed lost, not knowing how to direct the topic of conversation elsewhere.
"I wonder what it feels like." You continued voicing your thoughts out loud, missing the way his head turned towards you swiftly, entranced by your genuine and clueless curiosity. "I mean I do not know what exactly transpires between man and woman but I can imagine the—"
His hand grasped yours on your lap, halting you before you could finish your trail of thought. "We should not talk about this topic any further." Although his voice was as gentle as he could allow himself to be when with you, you could detect the finality in his tone.
"But—but Tom! Would you tell me?"
You observed him as he clenched his jaw. "When the time comes, your husband will tell you and show you."
"But I wish for you to tell me. Do you not think my future husband would prefer me to know what I am doing at the very least? What if my terrible inexperience will bother him?"
He was quiet, staring at you with a flurry of emotions in his eyes. Something about his gaze caused your cheeks to redden and you opted to look down at your fiddling hands on your lap.
"Perhaps you could teach me something." You muttered after a long minute, not daring to meet his stare.
Tom's heart began beating unevenly beneath his robes. All of a sudden he felt too warm, too suffocated in his clothes. Tom was not pure by any means. He did not care for honour or propriety. Nor did he care for the foolish yearnings of men and women. He had indulged in those acts before, once or twice just to attempt to satisfy his body's urges. But he never actively sought it out. And he never particularly enjoyed it. But with you in front of him, so close to him that he could feel the scent of your perfume, he was just a regular man. And he had never felt desire the way he did at that moment.
"Stop." He said with a hoarse voice, and he cursed himself lightly before clearing his throat and repeating the word. "This is highly inappropriate."
"Show me just one thing. Please? Please, Tom?"
His pants tightened and his breathing got shallow. If you kept pleading him and uttering his name with such need surely he was bound to break. Surely no one would fault him for sealing his lips and yours—
No. He berated himself.
"Tom?" You moved closer, your knee bumping his thigh—
Before he could resist, his hand slid to grab your jaw. "You are being insufferable. I am holding myself back to protect your honour and yet you insist on me breaking my resolve."
"One time won't hurt anybody. Please?" With your last plea, and with a confidence you were not aware you possessed, you climbed over him to straddle him, sliding down until you were settled in his lap comfortably.
Tom froze underneath you. He could only stare up at you sitting so innocently on his lap as if you were born to be there and attempt to blink away the very ungentlemanly, very filthy thoughts from his brain. But how could he? With you pressed up against him, with only a few layers of clothing separating you, how could he banish those indecent images away?
"Teach me how to kiss." Your small voice filled his head again and how could he deny you anything when you were a pleading and desperate mess for him?
"Just once." He muttered with his last remaining resolve, no longer able to resist the pull that was urging him to close the minute distance between you. He moved to press his lips against yours and before you could respond, he retreated to gauge your reaction, only for you to whine and eagerly reconnect your lips back together. The grip on your hair grew tight, and he fought with himself to maintain control. But it seemed you had other plans as you needily pressed against him, the kiss no more gentle, but intense and messy.
Your body felt as if it was set aflame from the inside, and you would gladly burn alive if it meant you could experience this for the rest of your life.
His hands slid to grab a hold of your waist, and he lifted his hips up to grind the straining material of his pants against you. You gasped into his mouth at the action, and he did not miss the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You moved your hips against his, feeling him hard underneath you. He groaned, the low sound travelling straight to your core.
"We should stop." He muttered between kisses, and your hand moved to take a handful of his hair and pull at it, causing him to look up at you with dazed eyes. "Or I will not be able to control myself."
"Don't you dare stop."
He moved his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses along your throat before you felt his teeth bite into your flesh.
"Tom." You murmured his name in pleasure, rolling your hips against him once more to feel that pleasant ache between your thighs once again.
Suddenly, you heard the snap of a twig from somewhere behind you, and you pulled away from Tom in horror to look back over your shoulder. One of the Slytherin boys you did not recognize was standing there, eyes on you with an expression of bewilderment.
He had caught you in a compromising position. This was not appropriate. If he said anything about this situation, you would be ruined. You quickly removed yourself from Tom's lap and stood shakily on your legs.
Hesitantly, you looked at Tom, and he was staring at the boy with cold indifference as if this situation was not severe. Feeling embarrassed and utterly horrified, you did not utter another word before you rushed away from the place, desperate to return to your dormitory.
You worried that the boy would tell everyone of what had occurred, people would gossip about your ruination, but most of all, you felt betrayed that Tom had just sat there and done nothing.
If only you stayed long enough to witness Tom obliviating the boy, perhaps you would not be in such distress.
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maraudersmyloves · 28 days
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Best friend!James who loves you so much he can't tell whether it's platonic or romantic. Because you're his best friend and you will never stop being his best friend but he also gets butterflies when you hug him?? He didn't pay it any mind at first, he loves physical touch and he loves you so why should he not combine the two. But according to some people (everyone else), you don't hug people's waists when you're not in love with them. But he loves you and your waist fits so well into his arms and he can lean his head on your shoulder so easily when hugging you like you so?? People have mistaken you as a couple several times and while he wouldn't mind you're his best friend, not his girlfriend. Whenever he tries to explain that you can't be his girlfriend, ever, because you're always his best friend he gets weird looks. They just don't get it!! He loves you so he touches you. Just not in a romantic way. Right?
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jamespottersdaisy · 11 months
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It's nice to have a friend.
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
"No one loves a monster like me."
"I do."
warnings- cursing, the prank (with major changes), angst (?), my writing
13k
author's note:- i wrote this listening to taylor and lana. english is not my first language, so beware <3
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"What time do you call this?"
You bit down your lips at Remus's flat tone. He looked up from his book with an expression you couldn't figure to be irritated or nonchalant.
"I'm so sorry, Remus. I got carried away with astrology," you said as you attempted to sit beside him. He quickly put his books on your seat with a loud thud. Fortunately for him, the library was empty.
"Then go and play with your stars."
"What?" you asked, a bit confused. "Aren't we supposed to study together?"
"We were. But you're late," he said, shaking his head.
"I'm only twenty minutes late," you furrowed your brows at his uncharacteristic rudeness.
He was staring at you as you glared back.
"You damaged your brain while studying Transfiguration without me, didn't you?"
You arched a brow uncomfortably, getting ready to talk again, but Remus's face softened and changed into amusement. The next thing you heard was his light laughter.
"Hilarious, prick."
"I'm a funny bloke," he chuckled as he lifted the books to grant you a seat, which you took.
"You're not really, James and Sirius are way funnier."
"Weren't you the one throwing a tantrum over their prank yesterday? You certainly weren't laughing."
"They died my hair to green! And don't act like you had no part in it."
"I only told them green is your favourite colour. Was I wrong?"
You blankly ogled his smirk.
"Green suits you."
"You know what suits you, Remus? Purple. Should I do something about it?"
To your irritation, his smirk widened. You turned your hand into a fist. "Which eye is your favourite?"
"I only have two."
"That's not an answer."
"Is there supposed to be an answer? The two are the same."
"Well then," you threw your fist at his eye, Remus raising his arm to protect himself.
"Did Sirius bribe you to hit me?"
"No, but he did offer me some galleons in exchange for your chocolate this morning."
"That was you?!"
This time it's your turn to smirk.
"Time is of the essence, Remus, we have to study." you opened a book before you, waving off Remus as he grumbled something under his breath.
You started to study together, helping each other occasionally.
It was a habit now; you two would study together every week for at least four evenings.
Remus was frustrated today; you could tell from his bouncing leg and twitching lips. But you didn't point it out; you knew he felt uncomfortable when someone coddled him. It was one of the perks of being best friends for five years.
From the first year of Hogwarts to the sixth year, you learned almost everything about Remus by heart. How he scratched the hairs on the back of his neck when deep in thought, or how he never looked up from his book while reading, even if his friends were trying to converse with him.
In return, he knew exactly what to tell you when you were overwhelmed by the studies or how to make you laugh when you were feeling like crying.
You two had always been there for each other, listening, understanding, and supporting one another through everything. You had stayed in the hospital wing all night for Remus when he broke his arm in the third year, and he had been there for you when you were burning with a fever two years ago.
There were too many incidents like these which you and Remus shared that proved the special bond between you. James, Sirius and Peter were also your friends, but with Remus, it was different; unique.
He had made you feel appreciated and loved, never let you down or never let anyone look down on you. Sometimes James and Sirius would mock you two for this affection, but that would always earn them a smack on the head from Remus.
You knew everything about him, and he knew everything about you.
Well, almost everything.
He didn't know that your affection for him was something more; It had been for quite some time now.
At first, you thought it was an innocent crush because of teenage hormones or something, and it would fade away with time.
But it didn't. You grew out of 'I fancy Remus Lupin' to 'I love Remus Lupin'. Of course, you never confided in anyone about your burning infatuation, keeping it secret, burying it deep inside your heart.
The same secret that was fighting to break free from your heart's walls every time Remus smiled at you.
The same secret that was clawing from its grave to get up and fly, bleeding your heart every time Remus embraced you and called you a friend.
The same secret that prickled your eyes with tears every time you remembered that you weren't the only one keeping secrets.
He was keeping something from you, too.
You had always felt it in his eyes, glancing away when you would ask about a scar on his arm or a cut on his thumb.
The first time you fought on it was when you saw the huge scar on his face in the second year. You had worried so much that you pushed Remus's patience, and he had yelled at you. For twelve years old, it was a big hit in their friendship. You hadn't talked to each other for two weeks. In the end, Remus approached you to apologize and explained how the Marauders' prank had backfired, resulting in his scar. You had cried that day because of how much you had missed your friend. Remus hugged you tight, but you could swear you heard a sniff or two from him as well.
Remus would always say the scars on his body were because of a prank, and you would pretend to believe it.
Until this year.
You may be a Gryffindor, but you weren't stupid. You had noticed how he would disappear every full moon and "get sick." You didn't push him before because you thought maybe he needed time, but his distrust was turning the understanding in you into resentment.
It hadn't been to hard make speculations about the situation, but you wanted him to confide in you.
"Are you asleep with your eyes open?" Remus startled you, pulling your focus back to the present.
"Are you calling me a dolphin?"
"You two have a lot in common," he patted your head with his quill.
"Freakingly cute?"
"Freakingly evil."
You elbowed him but regretted it the moment he grimaced with pain.
"What's wrong?" you asked, albeit you immediately guessed another injury under his brown jumper.
He forced a smile. "You just proved my point."
"I didn't even hit you that hard!"
"You tell yourself that," Remus stood up, nodding simultaneously. "That's enough for today."
"Already? You sure you okay?" you worried a bit, standing up. "It's only been forty minutes."
"For you, lazy lady. I've been here for an hour, remember?"
"Go on, rub it in, or I won't hear the end of it until tomorrow."
You two were walking to the exit now with relaxed paces.
"Yeah, about that. I won't be able to study with you tomorrow."
You inhale a deep breath and huff it out.
Here goes nothing.
"Again?"
"Yes," his voice is rusty now.
"Why?"
"Marauders thing."
Same excuse as the last month.
You didn't say anything, giving him one more chance again.
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"That's bollocks, Remus."
Remus simply curved a side of his lips to a tiny smile, almost unnoticeable to anyone. Well, anyone but you.
However, you were too irritated to mellow at his smile.
Only for one day, you didn't see him, and he had a new scar, and what a coincidence that the same day was a full moon.
"You really shouldn't curse."
"What truly happened to your arm?"
"Sirius accidentally cut it," he said for the third time that day.
"Stop lying."
Maybe you were wrong to push him like this, but you didn't care at that moment.
"I'm not lying, Y/N," he said before grabbing both his and your books and pressing them between his left arm and torso. "Let's go, we have class in ten."
When you didn't budge, his smile grew, and he stretched his free hand towards you.
"Come on, move your arse. We'll be late."
"You shouldn't curse," you said firmly, trying to look as angry as you could. You were on your limit and had no intention of backing off this time. "And I'm not coming with you."
"Why is that?" he pulled his outstretched hand back to the pocket of his trousers, wearing a soft expression, which his mocking tone contrasted with.
"You know why."
"I'm afraid I don't know why you are not coming to class."
"I will go to class, just not with you," you scowled at his nonchalance.
He pressed his lips into a thin line.
"And why is that?"
"Because I've decided that I'm not talking to you."
"That's not fair."
"Yes, it is," you snapped, standing before him. You waited a few minutes for something, eyes narrowed. When Remus chuckled at your annoyed expression, you walked past him, hitting him with your shoulder.
Striding to the common room's exit, you ignored Remus's call. Only after leaving his sight, you fathomed that you had left your book with him but shrugged it off. You two always sat next to each other, and Remus was too nice of a friend not to bring it back.
"Hey, angry lady." his playfully soft tone danced in your ear, making your heart flutter in your ribcage.
"Go away."
"We're headed to the same class."
"Go away from me, then."
"I'm carrying your book."
"No one asked you to," you still hadn't spared him a glance but could feel the soft smile on his lips.
"No one needed to. I'm a gentleman."
"My arse."
"What about it?"
Your head snapped in his direction. Remus was smirking at you, acting like you weren't almost about to fight ten minutes ago.
You walked into the classroom from the door Remus held open for you straight to your seat.
"Give me my book back."
"You forgot the magic word, lady," he sat next to you. "You know, the one starting with 'P'."
"Petrificius Totalus?"
"That would also work, but I had something nicer in mind. Try again?"
"Periculum."
"What would you need the flames for?"
"To burn you."
"You're so violent this morning. Hadn't had your morning coffee?"
"Just give the bloody book back."
"Now that I think about it, you've been violent for the last three days."
You groaned when the professor started the lesson.
"Don't be bitter, Y/N," he pleaded, watching you snatch your book back. He hated when you were angry at him. "I already told you the truth."
"That's rubbish, and you know that," you whispered so the professor wouldn't hear you. "We're not twelve anymore."
"You were a lot nicer when you were twelve, though."
"And a lot stupider."
"Aye. You'll hear no argument from me."
You knew he was merely attempting to lighten the mood, but he didn't realise it only made you more furious.
"Why are you keeping a secret from me?" you finally blurted out the question gnawing on your insides.
Remus's smile ebbed. He exhaled sharply before turning away from you.
"I am not keeping anything from you."
"Then you must think I am gullible because that's the only explanation for you repeating the same 'prank injuries' lie over and over again."
"That's not a lie."
"Is there a problem?"
You clenched your jaw when you heard the professor's rough voice.
"No, Professor," Remus shook his head, ending the chatter.
You didn't talk for the rest of the lesson. However, to your frustration, you couldn't help but sneak glances in his direction only to find him doing the same.
The moment the class was dismissed, you immediately got up and left the room. The last half an hour in the boring potion class made you question some things. You were at odds with yourself.
And now, in the middle of the hallway, with your books to your chest, your mind was hosting a party for questions.
Was it really about you? Maybe no.
Did Remus deserve some secrecy? Maybe yes.
Did your infatuation with your best friend get in the way of your judgement? Breaking your heart not because he had a secret he didn't want to share but because he didn't love you back? No, of course not (It did).
But you deserved his trust. At least, that was how you were feeling based on the years of friendship.
Were you wrong? Probably.
"Y/N!"
You took a deep breath and blew it out as you turned to face Remus, who quickened his pace to catch up to you. He's smiling. Again.
"What?"
"You still pissed at me?"
"Yes? No? I don't know, Remus," you shrugged and carried on walking to the Great Hall. "I don't understand why you won't share it with me. Don't you trust me?"
"I do," he drawled, and you waited for him to continue. He hesitated at first but gave up after your determination not to make a sound.
"Listen, it's not something about you. I just don't like sharing it."
"Does James know? Sirius? Peter?" you arched a brow, desperately hoping for him to say no. You watched him he open his mouth and close it without a reply.
Well, that was it.
He didn't want to tell you, and you were supposed to be okay with it.
You nodded, hurt at something you didn't want to voice.
Remus stopped you from your arm, turning you so that you would face him. His hands made their way to your sulked shoulders and caressed them back to your hands to hold them tight, sending shivers through your body.
"When the time is right, I will tell you," he said. You looked up into his brown eyes, forcing yourself not to peek at his lips. You had always loved his eyes, and his lips.
"I promise. Just trust me."
You lowered your head, closing your eyes to the pleading in his words.
"I just don't understand why you don't trust me."
Remus stepped forward, letting your head lay on his chest.
"I told you, dove. This is not about you. Truly."
You knew it too.
You knew the reason you were so angry was not Remus but your love for him.
You knew you were not resenting Remus but your own inability to suppress your feelings.
So you nodded, hugging him back.
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"What do you smell?" you asked Remus, trying not to sound too eager or excited. You were hoping he couldn't hear your racing heart and couldn't see your trembling hands.
Remus inclined his head to the potion, taking in the smell the Amortentia was radiating.
One, two, tree...
He frowned, looking lost. He clenched his jaw, blinking fast. Something must be wrong.
Six, seven, eight...
He cleared his throat, locking his eyes with yours.
Twelve, thirteen, fourteen...
Remus straightened his back, curling the side of his lips upwards awkwardly.
"What do you smell?"
You gulp, lips parting and then closing and then parting again. You weren't sure it was the right thing to tell him what you smelled from the love potion.
Parchment, coffee, melting chocolate.
Everything that reminded you of him.
"I asked you first."
You sounded taut, internally having a fight between your heart and your brain over the control of your body, mind, and soul.
You didn't know what you wanted to hear from him exactly, but what you did know was that you were praying for it to be something, anything that would remind him of you.
"It's- it's nice," he simply said.
"Mine, too."
"What is it?" he asked, his voice so low that if you weren't so close to him, you wouldn't hear him from all the chatters in the classroom.
You longed to tell him.
Tell him and get it over with. Put down the weighing affection in your shoulders, your lungs and your heart, even if it meant having it broken.
You looked up at him, biting your lower lip so hard it almost bled.
Remus waited and waited and waited for you.
"It's uhm, it's parchment... and uh,-"
"Mr Lupin, are you two done with your potions?
You quickly put a distance between you and Remus. Professor Slughorn stood by the pot, smelling the potion.
"Ah, you are. Well done, you two."
You refused to turn back to Remus, your eyes examining every student in the classroom as Remus cleaned the desk.
James Potter was grinning at Lily Evans, who, in turn, had an unreadable expression on her face. You hoped Lily had smelled James; it would make your friend foolishly happy.
It was a bit chaotic in the room; happy, angry, sad and confused faces were scattered around. A student had even managed to blow up his potion somehow.
You saw Sirius and wondered what he had smelled, but soon your thoughts took a turn when you noticed Sirius was not alone. He was muttering something to Severus Snape with a devilish grin on his face.
"You guys have another prank coming?" you asked Remus, your eyes not leaving Sirius.
You didn't see Remus flinch and almost drop the knife.
"No? Why?"
"Oh, nothing. Then Sirius must be messing with Snape for his own amusement."
Remus hummed softly.
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"I love James and Sirius, but was this really necessary?"
It was cold, and you were freezing, not because you had clothed lightly but because it was seven in the morning and in the middle of winter. Remus, seated next to you, was in no better condition. All because your friends insisted you watch them fly around on a broom.
"Well, he had said we were a great support."
"Do I look like any kind of support at this moment?" your teeth were starting to chatter. You closed your eyes at Remus's chuckle, hoping, wishing and praying that you would never forget its sweet melody.
"You look anything but."
You laughed at his words, totally oblivious, his gaze lingering on your smile.
"When is even this game?"
"In two weeks, that's the only thing Pads and Prongs talk about. Where's your head at?"
"I usually tune them out. They're disturbingly loud."
James screamed loudly at Sirius; you threw an 'I told you so' glance at Remus, who rolled his eyes in return. You liked when he did that.
"Try living in the same dorm room with them."
"Must not be fun since you're carrying the scars of the battle in your body."
"And in my soul," he nodded swiftly several of times. You adored the way his brown locks messed into each other, still looking fluffy. "Are you cold?"
"No, I'm sweating," you snarked, peeking at Remus. Maybe you were wrong because he definitely appeared more decent than you were. He beamed at you, sneaking in closer, his leg brushing yours.
Without further ado, he pulled his arm over your shoulder, tugging you to his chest. Your breath hitched as his scent filled your mind.
You hated how your heart reacted every time you were this close to him; a hand away to hold his hand, a breath away to kiss his lips-
"Better now?"
You pushed the image deep into your mind, heat blossoming in your chest, colouring your cheeks.
"Cheers."
The next you-don't-know-how-many minutes later, the practice was over, and the players were now descending to the ground. Remus hadn't let go of you yet, not that you wanted him to.
You watched as James and Sirius joked around, Peter joining them later on.
"Hey, lovebirds! Come down!" James yelled, his hands around his mouth.
You raised your head to see Remus frowning at them before smiling at you, which you returned shortly as you stepped out of his warm embrace.
"Who's hungry?" James asked as you two also joined them and answered before anyone else could. "I am. Let's eat."
"Evans still won't tell me what she smelled in Amortentia."
"Drop it, mate. If she wanted to tell, she would've," Sirius slapped James's back before stepping into the Great Hall before everyone.
"If you push her, she might get irritated, you know," you reasoned with James, albeit you knew it was in vain.
"With me? Impossible, I'm lovely."
"Not to her, apparently."
"Not everyone has a Moony around to cuddle, Y/N."
Peter snorted and dodged the hit from Remus's hand.
"What? James, that's not even relevant!" you hid the crimson of your checks with feigned annoyance, refusing to glance at Remus.
"It doesn't have to be relevant," he shrugged, grinning ear to ear. You shook your head, grabbed a toast and didn't see Remus arch a brow at James.
"Where's Sirius?" Peter asked, making all of you turn around.
"He was there a minute ago, was he not?" you questioned, aimed mainly at James. If there was only one person you could ask about Sirius, and he would have an answer, he was James.
Obviously, not this time because James simply shrugged.
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You were jealous. You had never been jealous over Remus until now.
You knew Lily Evans was his good friend, you liked her too, and you knew Remus would never even think about her in that way.
But still, you couldn't help but feel like you were on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone to push you every time Lily would put her hand on Remus's hand, grazing the tiny cut lightly with her thumb. Your heart was a target to all sorts of knives when you heard Remus chuckle at Lily's words.
You couldn't help but wonder if she knew Remus's secret.
"Jealousy is not a good look on you, Y/N," Sirius cut your thoughts short.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you dismissed him with a shake of your head, pulling your gaze from Remus to the potion top. "Did you add the Powdered Root of Asphodel?"
Remus had always told you that you were the girl closest to him, and it would always stay like this. But you couldn't get rid of the doubts in your mind you were so certain that were emerging because of your feelings.
"Yes, stir twice clockwise," Sirius started working on Sopophorous bean juice. "I'm talking about Moony."
"What about him?" you bit down your lip and hoped your voice didn't shake when Remus's nickname startled your train of thought. How you loved that nickname...
"Others may be oblivious but don't be ridiculous, I see how you stare at him."
You didn't know how to reply to that claim, so you kept silent but turned your eyes to the long-haired boy. He smiled at you as if an encouragement, which almost crumbled your defences. You were on the verge of giving out.
Would it be bad if there was at last a person to share your feelings with?
"So, is it a monthly 'I fancy him' situation or..?"
"Something more," you finished for him, earning a croon. Here, you had said it with no guarantee that he would keep your secret but with the hope that he would help you carry the burden.
"Am I that transparent?"
"Only when you're jealous, love."
You nodded, smiling a little.
Sirius watched the way you were picking the skin around your nails.
"Hey, stop worrying. I'll tell no one."
Relief had hugged you at that moment, thankful that Sirius took your feelings lightly and didn't make a big deal out of it. Also, happy that you weren't alone anymore in this secret; you had someone capable of understanding.
"Sirius?"
"Mhm?"
"Do you think he'll ever...love me back?"
He sighed, drying his hands. You felt his hands on yours, returning the gesture.
"You know Moony, he doesn't talk about feelings," you laughed bitterly, placing your head on his shoulder. "But he is a plonker if he never returns your feelings, and I'll make sure he gets a new scar if he ever hurts them."
"Thank you, Pads," you melt into his hug as you feel his arms around your waist.
"You smell of strawberries," he took a strand of your hair into his hand, sniffing it. "What shampoo are you using?"
"Stop smelling me like a dog!" you pushed him away, giggling when he gasped in fake hurt. "Focus, we still have to finish that potion."
Sirius carried on with his Sopophorous bean, and you looked around for a sloth brain.
"Did you forget the sloth brain?"
"I thought you were going to get it," Sirius shrugged, looking up. "Moony and Evans have one more. Go and grab from them."
You glanced at the pair, noticing that Remus was already staring at you. He didn't budge when you smiled at him and changed his focus back to Lily.
Red hair, green eyes, dainty freckles and graceful stature. Why did she have to be this beautiful?
You sauntered to their seat, passing near a bunch of students that were requiring the Professor's attention. Remus refused to look up to you when Lily offered you a kind smile.
"Hey, Remus, do you mind sharing an ingredient with me and Sirius?"
"You don't have it?" his tone was not kind, and his eyes were cold.
"I thought he was supposed to take it, but it turns out he thought I would take it," you mumbled real quick, still not fathoming the reason behind his coldness. "So here we are."
"You guys were pretty out of it. How do you even manage to get the job done?"
"We are doing fine," you frown. What was wrong with him?
"Yeah, I saw."
"Are you going to let us borrow the ingredient, or should I ask James and Pete?"
His gaze finally changed into something you couldn't quite name. He turned to Lily, who was trying her best not to pry.
"We won't need the spare," she consented in an instant. Remus dashed to the other side of the desk, clutching the jar and dashing back to you.
"Thank you," you mumbled as you clasped it in your hand. He merely nodded one time before carrying on with whatever he was doing.
You could swear you heard Lily whisper to him, 'What the bloody hell is wrong with you?' before parting, but you ignored it.
You couldn't find Sirius when you were back, so you finished the last steps of the potion on your own. He didn't pop up when the Professor checked the work or when he dismissed the class.
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"Why are you pissed at me?"
"Moony is pissed at you?" James hopped in as you made your seat next to Remus, who was busy with his meal.
"Yes–"
"I'm not."
You stared at him in disbelief and bemusement.
"You certainly are. Now tell me why."
When Remus looked at you, a smile inched his lips up though his eyes were still grumpy.
"Where's Sirius?" he asked.
"I-I don't know," your head sought him out, giving out in confusion. "How is he any relevant?"
You ignored James muttering, 'You really do like that word, huh?' as your eyes desperately tried to understand why Remus was being weird. But instead of an appropriate reason, all you got was a shrug.
You shook your head in dissatisfaction and stretched your arm for the pumpkin juice. Seeing your attempts, Remus's hand had already grabbed it and now was pouring the juice for you.
"Thank you," you whispered before clearing your throat. "So, we'll study together in the library again, right? Now that you're not 'angry'?"
Remus shook his head when you drew quotation marks with your fingers in the air.
"Today, yes. Not tomorrow, though."
You quelled the rising anger and heartbreak in your heart. In a trice, you twisted in your seat, facing James.
"What are your plans for tomorrow?"
He was taken aback by your sudden query. By the state of his full mouth and the bread crumbs around his lips, you figured out that he wasn't paying the slightest attention to you and Remus.
"Quidditch practice before breakfast?"
"In the evening, I mean."
"We're supposed to–"
"I wasn't talking to you, Remus."
Remus pursed his lips, cursing himself for not talking to James that morning. James's face crinkled in bafflement.
"I am supposed to finish my star chart with Sirius."
You nodded and glowered back at your best friend. James made a face at Remus behind your back as if asking what was going on.
"You don't take Astrology, Remus."
"I'll study with Lily tomorrow," he said, and you froze.
You were supposed to study together. You and Remus. Together. Like the way it had always been.
He wasn't supposed to study with the prettiest girl in the house. The graceful girl with a delicate smile and silky fire-kissed hair.
You didn't know when or how the familiar burn in your chest surged up, but you recognised what it was. You welcomed the acute sharpness of its thorns and the way it cut through your heart.
"Oi! Why didn't you tell me that? I could've finished the chart earlier and joined you!"
You tuned out James's protest. You wished you could tune out Remus mumbling to him, 'We decided in the potions.' too. But if there was one thing you could never turn a deaf ear to, it was Remus's voice; soft yet stern, melancholic yet hopeful. You wanted to tattoo the tune into your brain the way it was engraved into your heart.
You heard Remus call your name. You hated the way you loved your name from his lips. He had always chanted your name so gently, like an incantation, caressing your soul's most hidden-away parts.
"Yes?"
"I couldn't say no to Lily," he said apologetically.
"Yes, of course," you rose from your seat, offering Remus a smile you hoped covered the hurt behind your eyes. "I understand."
"Where you going?" he attempted to grab you by your wrist, but you were agile. You snatched your wrist away unobtrusively.
"I'm going to look for Sirius."
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"Hiya, love," Sirius greeted you at the curtail step of the Grand Staircase. You had looked for him in the castle, but you stumbled on him when you finally gave up and decided to head to the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Where were you? I couldn't find you close to the end of the potions," you asked him, feeling a bit better now that you're out of Remus's company.
He shrugged, denying you the answer.
"You, too, Pads?" you stopped your steps, making Sirius do the same. He looked confused.
"I, too, what?"
"Somehow, I never get an answer to any of my questions these days, and it's bloody frustrating," you blurted out the grudge that had made home in you within a breath.
"Someone's getting ready to throw a strop," his mocking tone brought you to your senses. You pouted, sighing away the anger and resentment building up in your core.
"Don't sulk, love," he said as he dropped a hand on your shoulder, which impeded your movement on the stairs. "If it is any consolation, I have a problem with Snape."
"What problem?"
"You remember our last prank on him, right?" he smiled sheepishly. He continued when you nodded. "Right, so he may or may not have been trying to get back at me for it."
"So you two have been fighting like two little third-years for the last week?"
"Uh-huh," you rolled your eyes when he showed you his ridiculously white teeth. "I'm setting the ground for something big, but can't tell you, so don't ask."
"Fine."
"Your turn."
"It's silly," you cringed at the thought. Everything always made sense in your head until it was time to actually voice them.
"Good. Then we'll have a laugh. Come on, now," Sirius squeezed your arm as reassurance.
"Remus is a liar. Sometimes..." you purposely left out the once-in-a-month fact, "He stands me up, saying it's a Marauders thing-"
You held your hand up to interrupt Sirius, who was about to back up his friend.
"Don't. It is a lie. I know something is going on, and I have speculations, I'm not stupid, Sirius–"
"Never said you were."
"And it's okay, you know? We talked about it, and he told me he needed time, and I didn't argue. But now he tells me he isn't gonna study with me because he promised Lily, and I know it's an excuse because he couldn't use the 'Marauders thing' lie this time–"
"Don't forget to breathe."
"It's just...she's pretty and smart and–"
"In love with Prongs."
"You don't know that."
"No, but she will be, and you don't even need to worry about Evans. She's just a good friend of Moony."
You exhale heavily, begging for your endeavours to suppress the ache in your throat to work.
Yes, she was a good friend of Remus. But you're supposed to be his best friend.
Howbeit, more importantly, what was muddling you was the thought that Lily knew Remus's secret.
"I know, Pads. I just can't help it."
Sirius said the password to your common room and gave you the way first.
"You should talk to him, you know," he said as you threw yourself onto a sofa.
"And tell him that I'm ridiculously jealous because of his friendship with Evans, yeah?"
You smiled at Sirius's laugh. "I pity you, love."
You pitied yourself, too.
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You grimaced when you felt the metallic taste of blood. Pulling your teeth from your lips, you pushed them together so the blood on them would dry.
You've been pacing around your dorm room, contemplating whether to get down to the library.
Part of you yearned for Remus's presence, while the other part wanted to avoid him forever, not ready to face and voice your thoughts to him. You knew he never left any quarrel unsolved, never letting you stay upset.
Ultimately, your love for him overwhelmed your resentment, and before you knew it, you grabbed your book and ambled down the stairs.
Your knuckles were white from clutching the book hard when you entered the empty library. The only thing you could think about was if Remus was going to be there.
And he was.
He raised his head from his book the moment you crossed his sight, brown eyes full of different emotions that you couldn't sort.
You chose to ignore how his leg was bouncing and how his hair was way messier than usual.
He softly smiled at you when you sat next to him. You smiled back.
You hoped maybe he would act like everything was alright and you wouldn't have to think about your feelings.
But you inhaled sharply when he didn't.
"We're fighting a lot these days," he said, looking at your fingers rather than your eyes. "I hate it when we fight."
"We didn't fight."
"It may not be a fight, but," he took your hands into his, "I know you're hurt."
When you kept silent, he took this as his cue to go on.
"I'm sorry, dove. I should've known it would hurt your feelings to stand up our evening studies."
"You know well that it is not the matter," you said, pulling your hands back. "Stop acting like you don't."
"I'm going to need you to be more specific."
Dozens of questions raced through your mind, but you only managed to ask the one tearing you apart with jealousy. You pushed to voice that screamed at you, saying 'you're being too blunt' back in its place.
"Does Lily know your secret?"
Remus sighed. He parted his lips and then pushed them back together. You fathomed that he was getting irritated from the twitch of his hand.
"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't bring this up again–"
"Does she?"
"She does."
"You told her."
"She figured it out herself," he arched his brow at you eloquently. You despised the meaning behind that expression. It mocked you, claiming that you were not as bright as another.
"Of course, she did," You turned your side to him and opened the cover of your book. Little did he know you had figured everything, too. Except, you waited for his confiding.
"Alright, that's it," Remus shut the cover back to regain your attention. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What?"
"Y/N, you've been picking fights for the last bloody month. And I try, I really, really try to be patient but I don't understand what your problem is."
Your face wrinkled in confusion. 
"Remus, what are you talking about? We were fine until this morning."
Remus held back for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Maybe. But we're having the exact bloody conversation every once a month, and it's getting on my nerves."
This was the last straw for you. Getting on his nerves? 
You had been patient with him since the day you became friends.
You had been understanding towards him every time he pushed you away when he was upset and pulled you back for support.
You had been gentle with him every time he snapped at you before full moons and every time he broke your heart after full moons.
And you had been loving him for the last five years, first as your friend, then as a boy, despite his flaws, blemishes and imperfections.
And now he couldn't even handle your resentment?
Anger climbed its way to your chest, burning down every wall you've ever built to keep your heart's secrets hidden away.
Words were scattered across your mind, ready for you to use them as your weapon against the pain havocing in your soul.
You couldn't keep anything in anymore.
"You know what's getting on my nerves, Remus? You being a liar–"
"I am a liar?"
"Yes. Yes, you fucking are. You have been lying to me for the last five years, and I've been bloody patient.
You think you're being patient? Well, try being best friends with yourself. Someone who lies to you, keeps secrets from you, but tells you you're his best friend, and then fucking repeats everything again."
"I asked you to give me time!"
"And I did! I've been understanding towards you and acted dumb every time you gave me nonsense excuses like you did today."
Remus shook his head. 
"You're being selfish."
"I am being selfish?" your eyes widened in disbelief. He truly had the gall to call you selfish after five years of his lies, excuses, and your espousing only for his sake.
"It's not always about you, you know. I just wanted to spend some time with Lily tomorrow, it's not an excuse."
You sniggered, awed by the way he could lie so easily.
"How come even Evans knows you better than me?!"
Remus clenched his jaw and rose up to his feet. You knew he was trying his best to keep himself collected, not to take out the anger on you, but you had had enough. You looked up to the veins popping up on his neck from your seat when he raised his voice.
"She figured everything out herself! It's not my fault that you can't do that!"
"So, now I have to try to solve you out by myself? That's not how friendships work, Remus! You're supposed to trust me-"
"No! I don't have to do anything! I've had fucking enough. I don't owe anyone anything, including you. Remus this, Remus that. Everyone has something they want from Remus. Everyone rubs their so-called favours and sacrifices into my face, always demanding something in return-"
"I've never even once harped on anything I did for you! I only wanted you to open up to me-"
"And the only thing I asked from you was patience! Fucking patience!" he dashed at you, grabbing you by the sides. "But here you are, bringing up the same bloody thing every month like a broken record! So yes, you are the most selfish girl I've ever met!"
His words cut through your heart like a sword, the same sword you had placed in his hand.
You looked at his dilated pupils and how they almost swallowed the gentleness of the brown you always loved.
You blinked the tears away that were threatening to invade your vision and swallowed the lump in your throat down.
Patience, he had said. Time, he had said. You were selfish, he had said.
An unfamiliar surge of acrimony washed you down, anger flaming in your chest. Its white flames swallowed your love for the boy whole, echoing his words from nothingness.
You pushed him away as hard as you could. He tottered a few steps back, eyes softening at your raged visage. In a blink, you were up from your seat and closed the distance between you two.
"You want patience? I have been patient when you let everyone in but me. I've been patient when you pushed me away in the second year after learning about your father. When you snapped at me for worrying about you. When you yelled at me because I wanted to touch the scar on your face." 
Remus parted his lips, but you held your hand to stop him from talking. With every sentence, your tone was soaring, the tears were prickling your eyes, and you had let go.
"Don't interrupt me! I'm not done. I gave you time when you got 'sick' every month and didn't let me see you or when you cried in my lap but refused to talk to me later. I gave you time when you didn't speak to me for days because you were angry and when you lied to me every month because you didn't trust me enough!
You want time and patience?!
I have given you my time and patience for the last five years and have been loving you for the past three, Remus! So don't you ever dare to call me selfish!"
You snapped your mouth shut, letting the wave of fury and relief wash over you. Remus's eyes changed into something new, something you had never learned about him.
 Only then did a stronger feeling hit you: dread.
You had confessed your love for him. 
His eyes were heavy with emotion, the crease between the brows still reminding you of his anger, while the benign brown lit up the hope inside your soul.
"You what?" a whisper left his mouth, so low that you wouldn't be able to hear it if it wasn't dead silence in the library.
You didn't repeat yourself. You didn't even reply to him. You simply turned away and dashed out of the library.
xxxxx
When you woke up the next morning, all you could think about was that it was a full moon today.
You didn't think it would be a good idea to see Remus today, but you were worried about him. You wished to know how he was, where he was, and how he would endure this night. Would he have new scars the following day? Or a headache? Did he love you back?
So many questions and not enough answers.
James and Sirius were in the Quidditch practice, probably Remus and Peter as an audience. You had decided not to join them this time, trying to drown the chaos in your mind with homework instead. Or maybe you were too embarrassed to acknowledge Remus. 
Anyhow, one can only tolerate writing an essay to one point.
You slapped your book shut, groaning to yourself when you relived your last memory with Remus. Yesterday was the reason why you hated being angry; you would either cry or lose control of your mouth. And since you had bone both of them in one evening, you were planning on rotting in your room. However, your short span of attention was not helping. With every sentence you managed to put together, Remus's brown eyes would pop up in your mind. 
You glanced at the weather; grey clouds and chilly wind. Who would even want to be outside in this weather?
James (and maybe you).
You shook your head and decided that maybe rotting yourself until everyone would forget about your existence was not a good plan, as it was getting boring. Checking the time, you smiled because the Quidditch practice should be finished by now. Thus, you got up and left your dorm room. If only you could make it out of the common room without being seen by Remus. 
Sauntering down the stairs, you slowed your steps. Before revealing yourself, you checked the common room and saw James and Peter laughing. No Remus or Sirius. You wondered if Remus told them about your love confession. You hoped not.
Stopping into the room, you made your way to them, putting on a genuine smile. You tried to suppress the anxiety rising in your throat and reminded yourself that these boys were your friends.
"Look who's here," James narrowed his eyes at you. "The traitor."
"I missed only one practice, James."
"He and Sirius are way more dramatic today. James almost asked Evans to marry him this morning."
"Seems like a normal morning, Pete," you said, even though you couldn't help but chuckle. "Where's Sirius, though?"
"He went to see his brother. Said he'll be back in ten minutes or something."
You hummed at James, pushing your lips together.
"And Remus?"
"With Evans, I wager."
The familiar burn in your chest resurfaced. 
"I'll go find Sirius. See you guys later."
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"You have a death wish, I see?"
You jumped at Sirius's voice. As opposed to what you said to James and Peter, you didn't go looking for Sirius. Instead, you were strolling around the castle yard. You liked how the frigid air sent shivers down your spine, it was refreshing. And you, without a doubt, needed refreshment.
"How'd you know?"
"You're walking around in nothing but your sweater?"
You smiled and shrugged, waiting for him to catch up to you. When he did, he removed his black leather and placed it on your shoulders. You caught the burn on his hand.
"What happened to your hand?"
Sirius glanced at his hand shortly and yanked it back into the pocket of his trousers.
"Ah. Nothing. Snape and I had a little duel just now."
"Sirius, this is getting out of hand. You need to stop."
"Yeah, don't worry. It's going to end tonight."
Your heart dropped. 
"What do you mean?"
He burst into laughter, worrying you more. 
"I'm going to scare the hell out of that prick, he'll never dare touch me again."
You attempted a smile, though you weren't sure it came out smooth.
"What do you mean?"
Sirius turned to you, patting your arm with his fist. "Don't worry about it. Tell me what made you take a walk in such weather."
Now you were both worried and uncomfortable. Embarrassment was burning your ears up, making you wish that the ground would split in two and swallow you whole. However, you decided to bury the worries and awkwardness. You deserved someone listening to you, after all, so you shared everything with him.
After a few gasps and woahs, you quietened while Sirius was contemplating what to say and how to say it.
"You haven't seen him since?"
You shook your head no.
"Well, he was grumpy this morning, but I don't think it's related to you."
Yet, you were certain that it was related to you. 
He was grumpy because he was angry at you. He was grumpy because he didn't return your feelings, and you made him uncomfortable by confessing them. He was grumpy because you just shattered your friendship. Or maybe he was grumpy because it was a full moon.
"I think he hates me now."
Sirius snorted at your declaration. "You're one hell of an overthinker, aren't you?"
When you didn't reply, he pushed you with his side softly, "Hey, come on, it's Moony we're talking about. He can never hate you."
"You can't possibly know that."
"Yes, I can. Remember in the third grade how he literally hated all of us for burning his paper?"
"I mean, he wasn't exactly wrong. We did destroy two weeks' work."
"Exactly. He rained hell upon us for a month. Well, most of us. He didn't touch you, and whenever we would ask him why, he would hit us before saying, 'It would hurt her feelings'."
You smiled at the thought of thirteen years old Remus coddling you.
"I didn't know that."
"You don't know why James changed his wand last year in the middle of the semester, either."
"I thought he broke it."
"Nah, Moony broke it."
Your eyebrows shot up in bewilderment, amusing Sirius. He nodded before resuming to talk.
 "James had a brilliant idea to cast a spell on you that would twist your tongue every time you talked. Remus wanted to waver him from it, but he was stubborn, that bastard. So before he could cast the spell, Remus broke his wand in our dorm and made it look like an accident to James."
Your smile grew wider, your eyes tearing up from intense emotions. Remus always knew about your anxiety, and he had always cared enough to help you through it. Whenever you would fidget with your fingers because you were about to give a big speech, he would put his hand on yours to calm them down. Whenever you would sweat because the professor was criticising you in front of the whole class, he would touch his knee to yours to let you know he was there. Whenever someone would make fun of you, he would be the first one to stand up for you.
"I didn't know he had it in him."
"Oh, he has a lot more in him when you are the matter," Sirius side-hugged you, letting you lean in. "You can ask him if you want."
You frowned, about to ask him what he meant but stopped in your tracks when your eyes sorted Remus from the other side of the yard. He was with Lily. Before you could ask Sirius to return to the castle, he yelled from the top of his lungs to make himself heard.
"Oi! Moony!"
"What are you doing?!" you whisper-shouted at Sirius, who was dragging you to Remus's side. 
"You can't avoid him forever."
As you got closer and closer to his side, your heart picked up the pace. You didn't feel ready to talk to him today. You were sure you wouldn't be ready tomorrow either.
Lily waved at you two when you made it to their side. You noticed the bags under Remus's eyes and his bouncing leg. You refused to lock your gaze, focusing on Lily's glorious smile. Still, you could feel his burning gaze piercing your heart.
You had tuned out their talking, alerting your mind only to Remus's presence. You didn't hear Lily's giggle or Sirius's mocking tone; you didn't even care what they were talking about.
You only cared that Remus was bouncing his leg, snapping his fingers and rubbing his temple.
You longed to put your hand on his leg to calm it down, hold his hand so that he would stop hurting them, and kiss his temple so maybe it would tender the ache.
Your heart was burning up in your chest, clenching in agony. The agony of being so close and yet so far away from him.
Every tune around you was muffled, slave to even a whisper from Remus, but he wasn't making a single sound.
You had lost count of how many heartbeats were beating in your chest, wasting time by beating away from Remus's heart.
Suddenly, they stopped.
"I have to go," said Remus.
His hoarse tone shattered everything into nothing.
He got up from Lily's side and walked back into the castle. You didn't follow him.
You missed his voice.
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The weather was dark and still cold. You clung to Sirius's jacket more tightly. He hadn't asked for it back and said he would take it from you tomorrow.
You should return to the common room; it was neither safe nor clever to wander around at night. And you did. You turned around and started striding to the castle, only to flinch when you saw a figure exiting it.
It was hard for you to distinguish the person, so you followed him. You waited for the light of the full moon to reveal the silhouette's identity to you. You bit down your lip when you saw Severus Snape sauntering towards the Whomping Willow.
He must've lost his mind.
Your heart fastened with Severus's every step, dread of what was about to come sending tremors down your body. Your fingers itched in anticipation.
You hid behind a bush and watched him with terror. It was dark at night. It was a full moon. You were near the Whomping Willow.
Why did you even follow Snape?
When he finally crossed the safe proximity, the tree started moving. Your hand covered your mouth, your eyes unable to blink.
You waited for the tree to frantically shake and sway its branches. You waited for it to injure Severus or maybe even kill him.
But it didn't.
The moment it started to move an inch, it stopped. You thought maybe Snape had cast a spell; you could only see his back.
He slowly approached the tree, disappearing into a hole under it.
You rose to your feet and took a few steps towards the tree. You felt uncomfortably vulnerable at that moment, standing out in the open where you could get attacked by every side and wouldn't even be able to prevent it.
What if the tree starts moving when you're near?
Where did Snape go?
Should you even be here?
If there was only one question you knew the answer to, it was the last one.
You wanted to return to the castle and forget about all this in the morning. You truly did. However, you figured that there was no turning back when you heard a howl and a scream coming from the hole.
You jumped back with fear, oblivious to the yelp that left you.
Your first instinct was to run. Run away as fast as you could, without looking back, but something deep in your conscience didn't let you flee.
What if Snape was alone out there, and he needed help?
What if he was injured?
You cursed under your breath and took one more step towards the tree.
Your heart was pounding in your ear, competing with the sound of the howl down on the ground. You convinced yourself that it was the fear that made the howling sound closer than before.
One, two, three.
You exhaled sharply and started running to the hole.
You prayed that the tree wouldn't move.
Your legs made a stop before you could fathom what was happening.
More than one figure emerged from the ground, but your eyes only saw the big, ugly beast. Moonlight was glistening through its thick grey fur, displaying a horrendous sight. The tawny glow in its eyes was impossible to miss, as well as its tall and scrawny bone structure. The snarls from the beast were threatening to change into something more dangerous. 
Snape was screaming. You could swear you heard James, your name or maybe your own scream too.
However, your eyes never left the beast.
You had seen it in the pictures. You knew what it was.
A werewolf.
Remus.
And it was planning to attack Severus.
Your Remus.
You took out your wand, not even once looking away from the beast. Your mind was chasing every charm you've ever chanted, looking for the best one for the situation. 
The beast pounced on Snape with a growl.
Snape slumped into the ground. 
The beast towered over him, ready to attack. 
You aimed your wand at it, screaming the first thing that came to mind. 
"Petrificus Totalus!"
You had diverted the beast's attention, presenting an opportunity for James to save Snape.
"No, Y/N!" 
When James's cry tore your mind from the shock, you understood that you had made a mistake. 
Spells don't work on werewolves.
A gasp left your mouth when the werewolf directed its attention from Severus to you. You didn't see Snape fleeing or James carefully walking to you. All you could see was the icy light in its eyes glaring at you, sending sheer panic down your spine.
You hesitated to make any more sound, no matter how much you wanted to yell James's name for help. 
You didn't know how to fight werewolves, no one had ever taught you that. You didn't want to die, either.
The growl from the beast intensified, sending you enough signals that the inevitable was close. With your every step back, it was taking a step forward. 
No, no, no, no, no, no.
"Y/N RUN!
And you did. 
You ran until your lungs gave out, your legs crippled, and your heart burst.
You ran until your eyes watered from the chilly air, your nose hurt from the sharp breaths, and your ears echoed the beast's growls.
A branch cut just above your cheek, but you didn't stop.
 You ran until you lost control of your mind, giving it up to your body, performing purely under adrenalin.
But the beast ran with you, too. It followed you into the forest, howling and growling, letting you know death was close. Letting you know that the screams drowning in the night were in vain. Letting you know that the tears staining your face were in vain.
Your breaths mingled with your screams, your hair getting into your mouth. Sweat and tears melded into each other, burning up the cut on your face.
Before you could understand what had happened, your body hit the cold ground with a thud. Your eyes clenched shut, taking in pain vibrating through you. You felt the soil staining your face and body. Your weeping turned into a shriek when you felt yourself yanked into the dirt on your stomach.
Your eyes widened with fear when you finally fathomed the claw grabbing your ankle. It dragged you back, hoping to get the claws on your throat, too. Your fingers dug into the earth. You fought to free yourself from the beast. The jagged stones on the ground gashed your forearm. The dirt stung the gash. Your blood glistened under the moonlight. The beast howled. It turned you on your back.
Remus, Remus, Remus.
One last cry left you. The beast raised its claws, towering over you.
Remus.
You closed your eyes. The tears didn't stop.
Moony.
A high-pitched whine soared in the sky. You were sure it didn't come from you. Something hit your hip. You opened your eyes. 
A stag. 
A stag stroke the beast with its horns in the underbelly, tossing it away from you. The stag jumped over you, attacking the werewolf again. Animalistic voices ascended in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.
You crawled behind a large rock and took deep breaths. You knew you had to run. This was your opportunity to flee for your life, but you had exhausted your body. You needed time to recover.
The growls and whines never stopped. They got louder and quieter. Closer and farther. You didn't know.
You raised your head. The Moon was gleaming, casting light your way as if telling you to get going. You couldn't. Not now.
You lowered your head at your hands. They were filthy with dirt, the soil blackening the insides of your nails.Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶g̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶d̶u̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶a̶r̶t̶h̶. You moved your left arm, checking the backside of your forearm. T̶h̶e̶ ̶j̶a̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ ̶s̶t̶o̶n̶e̶s̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶r̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ ̶g̶a̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶e̶a̶r̶m̶. You winced at the scar and the fresh blood around it. Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶g̶l̶i̶s̶t̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶u̶n̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶o̶n̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶.̶
Without warning, a sob left put your mouth, startling you. You pressed your uninjured hand on your lips, listening around. The voices had stopped. Neither the stag nor the beast was there. You were safe.
Your hands didn't leave your mouth, so terrified that if they did, you would make a noise and lure in the beast again. You knew your body was reacting to the shock and exhaustion, but you despised the tears flooding from your eyes. You needed to get it together and leave the Dark Forest. Albeit the beast was gone, the forest was still dangerous. 
You stood up with a groan, not lowering your wand for protection. Your clothes were spoiled, and you were hurting. You looked around to find a familiar way back to the castle.
"Y/N!"
You aimed your wand at the voice, your heart retaking the pace. The voice was familiar, but you were not in the right mind to identify it.
"It's me, hey. Lower your wand," James's gentle voice weakened your muscles, your hand shaking and breath hitching. Relief surged you from head to toe.
You didn't remember when you dropped your wand into the ground and threw yourself into James's warm embrace. You only remembered how he soothed you as you sobbed with exhaustion.
"You alright?" he put a hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist to check you out after you pulled away from the hug. You nodded, feeling his gaze on your injured arm.
"Where were you?" You didn't recognise your own tone, rasp and brittle.
"Here. With you."
Something hit you in the gut. A realisation twinkled in your mind, finally comprehending the depth of 'Prongs'.
"You were the stag."
He smiled at you. "I knew you were a bright witch."
James Potter being an animagi wasn't the first priority for you tonight. 
"What happened to..." you couldn't let out the rest of the sentence. The beast. R̶e̶m̶u̶s̶
"I led it back to the Whomping Willow."
The next moments passed with silence, you two walking together to the castle and James subtly keeping his hand behind your back to make sure you were fine. You relived everything from the beginning, this time making sense of the incidents. You had so many questions and even more feelings gushing in you.
"I don't understand, James."
"Hmh?"
"Why was Snape there? Where were Sirius and Peter?"
You heard James clear his throat. His tone changed from gentle to furious in a moment.
"Sirius told Snape how to get into the Whomping Willow. That bastard thought it would be a good prank. He told me later because he had started to second-guess himself," he retorded, "Peter was also there, you just didn't see him. I sent him to make sure Severus gets into the castle safely."
No. 
You shook your head, not believing your ears. This couldn't be what Sirius meant by handling the Snape problem. You didn't want to believe it. Not because you were thinking too highly of Sirius but because you imagined how devastated Remus would be the next morning. You knew how much he trusted his friends.
"Remus..." you muttered under your breath, earning a hum from James that signalled him thinking the same thing. 
"Sirius will be in big trouble. I'm sure Snape had already run to Dumbledore."
You turned to James with widened eyes, he talked before you could panic. 
"Don't worry. He didn't see me as the stag or see Peter at all. That's why I was belated. I'm sorry I couldn't make it there sooner."
"Thank you for even making it there," you whispered, closing your eyes when the castle entered your sight. You avoided thinking about the possibility that James might not make it in time. What would happen then was something tragedic you never wanted to admit. "Will you see Remus tomorrow morning?"
James looked at you with such intense emotion that you thought he was pitying you.
"I will but–"
"I want to be there with you."
"No, Y/N, listen," he scratched his chin. You stared at him in question.
"I will have to explain everything to Remus tomorrow. And by that," he said, "I mean everything."
"James, I want to–"
"No. I don't want you to be there when I tell him how he almost killed you. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to be there either."
"But it's not his fault–"
"That's not what he's going to think in the morning. I'll talk to him alone. Don't insist."
This was the most serious you had ever seen James Potter. Thus, you knew he wasn't going to back down. So, you didn't insist.
By the time you were in the common room, your body had calmed down, now only exhibiting exhaustion symptoms. James hugged you one more time before sending you to your dorm room.
"Shower with warm water and go to bed. I'll be in the common room if you can't sleep."
You wanted to ask him why he didn't go to sleep, but you couldn't even part your lips. So you simply offered him a weak smile and headed straight to the bathroom. The girls in your room were already asleep, meaning you had to be extra careful not to wake them up.
You scoffed at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Frantic hair, shrunk pupils, a cut on your cheek and dirt on your face. As if all these weren't enough, the gash on your arm was throbbing with pain, blood staining your sweater and maybe even Sirius's jacket too.
You stepped into the shower and let the warm water clean you thoroughly. You clenched your teeth to suppress the groan you wanted to let out of pain from your cuts. The black dirt left you as the water stroke down your body, helping you get this night out of your skin.
Your eyes were glued to the dirt getting washed away, harking back to how the beast hauled you onto the ground. Your skin still remembered the burn from the rough friction.
You couldn't close your eyes, you couldn't even blink. Every time you did, a pair of two glistening yellow eyes would stare at you, threatening to hunt you down if you kept your eyes closed a second more. If you thought about the beast a little bit more, you were sure you would have a panic attack.
So you let your mind wander around something else.
Brown locks, chocolate eyes and pink lips. 
Your lips curved when you recalled his soft voice, the way he called you dove. You warmed up, and not because of the water but because of the memory of how Remus gently stroked your hair. How he wiped away your tears. How he braided your hair perfectly after begging Peter to teach him. How he had always given you something hand-made on your birthdays because he couldn't buy anything.
You missed him. You missed the gentle smile he was always offering you. You missed your tender bickering and his teasing innuendoes.
You had missed your best friend, and no matter what would happen tomorrow, you were going to talk to him.
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You couldn't sleep well that night. You even had a nightmare about what happened.
James was late in the dream; you died in the end.
So you stayed up all night, only being able to dive into sleep when the air was lightening up, turning into sapphire blue. At the same time of the day, Remus was turning back to his human self. You would chuckle at the irony if you weren't sleep deprived.
When you woke up, your heart was hammering in your chest. Your roommate was beside you, a glass of water in her hand. You felt sweat drops in your neck and temple; you must be having another nightmare, then.
She offered you the glass, which you gladly accepted. 
"Thank you," you said rather hoarsely. 
"It's almost five in the afternoon, hun."
You sat up in your bed, brushing your hair back with your hands. You had a terrible headache.
"It is?"
"Aye. You sure you're alright?"
"Yes, Lizzie, thank you," you smiled at her before leaving the bad. You were both grateful and uneasy that you had missed the most part of the day. This meant that Remus had already learned about the prank.
You eyed yourself in the bathroom mirror. You looked way better than yesterday night, undoubtedly. Your face had gained its colour back, and your frenzied eyes were glistening with something other than horror. The only flaws were the small cut on your face and the new eyebags.
You got ready and went down to the common room. Because it was Sunday today, the common room was crowded with students. 
Your eyes searched any of the Marauders but failed. They weren't here, and you were hungry. You made your way to the Great Hall, accompanied by nice growls from your stomach. Fortunately for you, it was dinner time.
You were too focused on the food before to find yourself a seat, so you didn't notice anyone approaching you. You flinched when a kind hand touched your arm.
"Y/N?"
"Oh, hiya Lily."
The red-haired girl smiled at you with emerald eyes. She pointed to a corner around the table with her finger. "Potter asked me to call you."
Your eyes found James, who looked as tired as you but still managed to put on a simpering smile. "Cheers," you said to Lily.
You sat next to him, stuffing your plate. Your stomach growled harder at sight.
"How are you feeling?" James asked, watching you nibble on a toast.
"Have been worse. You?"
"Have been worse."
You knew what you had to ask him, but you also knew you needed your appetite at the moment, or you would starve yourself. So you simply hummed and hastened to finish your meal.
You tried not to think about the two empty seats as you sipped your drink. James and Peter were having small talk, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't listen to that either.
You swallowed your last piece as slowly as possible, delaying the inevitable. James looked at you briefly, and you understood what it meant. He raised from his seat, having you follow him.
When you two found an abandoned corner, you turned to him, tuning out the racing of your heart.
"You didn't sleep, did you?" he pointed under your eyes with a nod of his head. You shook your head. 
"Did you talk to him?"
Unfamiliar gloom darkened James's features. "I did. Told him everything."
He glanced at you before averting his eyes away again. "He just listened. Thanked me in the end and said he wanted to be left alone."
Your heart clenched in pain. You didn't want him to be left alone. "Where is he?"
"Dunno. Didn't look for him."
"Where's Sirius?"
James stayed silent for a few seconds. "Dunno, either. We had a fight, but my guess is somewhere in the forest in his animagi form."
You didn't dwell on it any further. You loved Sirius, but you loved Remus more than anyone. Albeit you weren't furious at him, you still didn't plan on seeing him any sooner. 
"I need to talk to Remus, James."
"I truly don't know where he is."
You had to find him. You had to find him and tell him that it wasn't his fault. 
You nodded at James, mumbling a quick bye before wandering around the castle, trying to figure out where he could be.
He wouldn't go to the library. It would be an easy guess for anyone trying to find him.
James said Sirius would be outside of the castle. You were sure Remus wouldn't risk encountering him.
That left you two or three places that you knew Remus would run whenever he wanted to avoid people. So you got going.
You didn't find him at Room of Requirement or Hospital Tower. You cursed the school for being this large in area. It took you almost an hour to get from one side of the castle to another. Fortunately, you were sure Remus was on the Astronomy Tower.
As you got closer and closer to the tower, anticipation chased your heartbeats high, your hands fidgeting with their fingers. You took a moment to regulate your breathing, which had no effect on your pacing heart.
Without wasting one more moment, you entered the tower.
There he was, sitting on the ground, his head low between his hands. Around him was cold and dark, gleaming with the light from the Moon and stars. Your heart ached at the sight of him. You stepped forward, letting the sound of your footsteps alert him. He didn't acknowledge you, but you were sure he had heard you. Heartbreak burned through you, maiming you because of the distance between you two.
Your steps stopped next to him. He still hadn't looked up to you but hadn't asked you to go away either. So you sat next to him, raising your head to gaze at the stars while his head was low between his hands.
"The stars are beautiful, Remus."
He didn't budge. He didn't even move. You peeked at his chocolate-brown hair, suppressing the urge to mess with them.
"Your hair looks nice today."
Silence. You didn't know if he was ignoring you or simply ignoring everyone, and it wasn't something about you.
"Doesn't your neck hurt?"
"No."
You gulped when his voice echoed in the air. 
"It must hurt if you've been keeping it like that for a long time."
"It doesn't."
"Liar."
Silence again. You yearned for his voice once more.
"You can put your head on my shoulder, Remus."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Go away, dove."
His voice was fragile and pleading. It broke your heart, shattered it into million little pieces. A lump made its way to your throat. 
"Why?" you asked, a voice as broken as your heart. "I don't want to go away."
"But I want you to," he loosened his fingers from his hair, dropping them to his lap.
You turned to him. "Don't push me away, Remus."
You reached for his hand, but he gently pulled them away. "Remus, please."
He shook his head, still not looking at you. 
"I need to know why you don't want me here."
He left your side, ambling to the parapet of the tower and leaning to it. You stared at his back in disbelief.
"Remus-"
"Go away, Y/N."
"You won't even look at my face when you kick me out."
Finally, he snapped his head and locked eyes with you. His eyes looked tired, blazing into yours. He had a new scar under his lower lip, from James's horns, probably.
"Go away."
You stood up, frowning in annoyance. "No, I'm not going anywhere," you took stern steps in his direction and closed the disturbing distance. "We need to talk, Remus."
You adored his amber eyes despite your annoyance. You loved to dive into its depth and get lost, sorting out every colour one by one.
He stayed where he was, but you detected his eyes lowering from your eyes. He stared at the cut above your cheek, clenching his jaw.
You unconsciously turned away and hid it from Remus. Memories flooded in a blink and raised the panic inside you. You could still feel the wind hitting your face and the sting from the branch that cut your skin as you fled for your life from the beast.
"It's nothing," you uttered.
Remus scoffed at your face. You saw his eyes change into something harsh and his brows furrow.
"Yeah, sure. The cut in your arm is also nothing."
You didn't ask how he knew that. After all, James did tell you that he would let Remus know everything.
"It'll heal."
"And why is it there in the first place?"
Remus took a step forward when you didn't answer.
What were you supposed to say? Because his wolf form chased you down, and you got injured trying to flee?
"I'll tell you why," he said, voice raised. "Because I hunted you down, tossed you to the ground, and yanked you around. I only did it so I could kill you."
"No–"
"Is that what you wanted to talk about? How I'm a bloodthirsty monster whose first instinct is to kill?"
"You weren't yourself."
"What would happen if James wasn't there?"
You pushed your lips together and closed your eyes. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about.
"No, open your eyes," he raised your head by your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. "Tell me what would've happened if James wasn't there."
You blinked away the tears that were threatening to invade your vision. Remus made you relive the same nightmare you had that night over and over again.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because I need you to understand! I need you to understand that I'm not someone you can fucking love!"
You startled in your place, both by his anger and claim. Something had burst into flames inside you now that he had finally acknowledged your feelings.
You opened your mouth to quarrel, to tell him he's wrong, and that you loved him more than anyone or anything in the world. But he didn't let you interrupt him.
"You think I haven't thought about what you said in the last two days? You haven't left my mind for even a bloody second!" his tone was raised but broken.
"You were the one pushing me away!"
"Because I wanted to keep you away from all this shit! I wanted you to see me as something other than a cursed boy. Why do you think I never shared that secret with you?!"
"That secret is part of your story, Remus. If you thought that I wouldn't love you with it, you must've been out of your mind."
You didn't think he understood the depth of your love for him, and you needed him to understand. It didn't even matter if your feelings were not returned.
He shook his head no.
"No one, Y/N, no one loves a monster like me."
"I do," you pleaded.
Words weren't enough to convince him or express your love for him, but you were trying.
He took your arm in his hand and pulled the left sleeve of your sweater up, revealing the gash. You tried to pull your arm back, but he overpowered you, tightening the hold on your arm. You grimaced when his fingers pushed on the scar.
"This is what happens when you love someone like me."
You used your whole strength and tugged your arm back. You marvelled at your tone when you spoke.
"Stop it! You weren't yourself, Remus!"
"How does that even change anything?!" he screamed, his voice breaking and his eyes tearing up. "Don't you understand? I am a danger to you!
"Remus–"
"You think this is easy for me?! I have fucking lost my mind these last two days because you were the only one in it! My brain wouldn't think of any name other than yours! My heart wouldn't beat for any name other than yours! And when I am finally ready to tell you that I love you, too, James comes and tells me that I almost fucking killed you!"
His eyes were blood red, and the veins in his neck had popped up. Tears left his red eyes and paved the way down from his jawline to his neck.
Remus was crying.
It was a sight you had never got used in the last five years.
Your mind refused to work, denying to comprehend the words that left his mouth. It was all too much, and all in one moment.
"You love me, too?'
You didn't recognise your own voice, probably because all you could hear was Remus's confession. You expected your heart to race this time also, but instead, it was dead silent. Or maybe you were just too focused on Remus's eyes.
His tears never stopped, and he never tried to stop them.
He was breaking down at last.
You walked up to him and closed whatever distance was left. You looked up into his eyes as he lowered them to you.
"But you didn't kill me," you whispered, bringing your hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes, raining more tears on your hand. You gently wiped them away.
"I'm here, Remus. I'm here, and I'm telling you that I love you. I don't love you despite your curse, I love you with it."
Remus scrunched up his face, letting out a sob before sinking his head down your shoulder. You felt his tears on your neck.
At that moment, you knew no words would ever soothe the storm in his heart.
So you held him as he bawled like a child.
His crying sent daggers to your heart, ripping it open.
You begged for his pain to become yours so that he would never hurt the way he was hurting now.
You didn't know how many minutes past. All you knew was Remus's sobs and whimpers hurt you like nothing else ever did.
You didn't let go when the heavy sobs turned into heavy sighs or when the tear-fall in your neck turned into warm breaths.
You caressed his hair and kissed his neck when he calmed down. When he talked, it was gritty and low.
"I'm a monster, dove. A monster that will tear you to pieces if you get near."
"I love you," you whispered. You felt him let a short, breathy scoff to the crook of your neck.
"I attacked Snape last night like a beast."
"I love you."
"I almost killed you."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
You shut your eyes, breaking your face into a tiny smile. Four words, one sentence, and his lips close to your neck was all you needed for revival.
Remus inched away from your neck, lingering his lips next to your wound. The red in his eyes hadn't worn off, but the brown of his eyes was blazing with affection.
You drew a sharp breath when he kissed above your cheek.
He caressed the nick lengthwise with tender pecks. His hand grazed your other cheek while the other one made its way to your waist.
You held your breath when he lowered his lips, hovering them above your lips. His hot breath tingled your face, you fought the urge to close your eyes.
He whispered your name, and that's when you gave in. You closed your eyes and unknowingly parted your lips.
One second lasted one year. 
Something flamed up down in your chest when you felt Remus's soft lips on yours. He kissed your lips gentle and soft, but short. Pulling back, he stared into your eyes, chestnut brown darkening with every second.
"I love you," he whispered.
Within a blink, his lips crashed into your lips again, this time more intense, more passionate, taking away the air in your lungs. You melted to his touch, letting his lips savour yours while his hand on your waist tugged you closer. Your breaths mingled together, leaving your heart fluttering in your ribcage.
If time had stopped and trapped you at this moment, you wouldn't complain.
You craved his scent on your soul, his touch on your body and his lips on your lips. But most importantly, you were more than glad to be buried in his love.
He pulled away and smiled at the way you filled your lung with air. You felt his thumb caress your face.
"There's no getting rid of me, now, dove." 
His smile was tired, his eyes still carrying the heartbreak of yesterday. You knew he was still a broken boy inside, but you loved him anyway.
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hsdiaries · 3 days
Text
Oh Anna.
4.9k words - LHH!harry x best friend!original character x Niall.
Threesome, oral f & m recieving, p in v. Slight praise, slight dom.
Harry & Niall play a game on who can make Anna come more.
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I pushed through the crowd, making my way to the back of the house. I hated parties, truly everything about them was pointless to me. Drunken fake conversations with people I wouldn't even remember tomorrow. I wasn't planning on coming, I was already in my bed when Anna texted me.
Anna:
Please come Haz. I want you here.
That was all it took and I was out of bed in skinny black jeans and a baggy grey tee; hair tied up in a bun. Now I was here, pushing my way through the crowd at Niall's house; all because his girlfriend said she wanted me here.
Yeah, that's right, his girlfriend.
Anna, Niall and I had been best friends for as long as I can remember. Niall and I always fighting for her attention since the moment we met her.
Obviously he won.
Yet, I was never fully convinced that he won every bit of it. She never stopped being flirty with me. Never stopped being touchy. Never stopped staring at me with those damn honey eyes.
I finally spotted my friends at the back of the house, on the normal grey couch we would all always congregate at. I pushed through the final group of people, as Niall turned and faced me.
"H! You came! What the hell?" He said walking over and embracing me. I chuckled and nodded.
"Decided I missed your pale Irish arse," I raised my eyebrows at him, causing him to laugh a big belly laugh.
"What's so funny?" I heard the sweetness of her voice behind us, and I released Niall, turning to face in her direction.
"Nothing, just Niall's face." I shrugged and he shoved me as we both laughed.
Anna giggled, her bottom lip disappearing behind her teeth before pursing out softly, "I mean, sometimes." She moved her honey brown eyes from me to wink at Niall.
"Yet you love me." Niall said, leaning close and kissing her nose, making me look away.
"Sometimes." She responded, glancing over at me. She was wearing a green crop top, high waisted jeans. She moved over to hug me and the smell of Black Opium filled my lungs. It was her signature scent.
"Thanks for coming." She said once Niall turned his attention back to the group. The pink of her lips was almost red today, I loved how the plumpness of the bottom always settled on her chin a bit.
"Only for you. Just remember that." I winked at her as she let me go, a smirk appearing on her face.
"Sooo, I brought us something..." she said addressing the group while still holding my gaze.
"And what would that be?" Tanya said, Anna moving her attention over. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small baggie with blue pills. Blue pills this group was really familiar with.
Tanya's eyes widened and she snatched the bag waving it around at the group, "Baby Anna always pulling through!" She quickly opened the bag, taking one out and popping it in her mouth like it was candy. She passed the bag around, our group each taking one. The baggie got to me and I grabbed it, handing it back to Anna.
"That's yours, H." She said, just looking at the bag then back at me.
"Not tonight, Anna." I said, and instantly she had those eyes. The soft ones, that narrowed in such a sexy manner.
"Please H. We have so much more fun." She pouted, her hand on my arm, causing me to swallow hard. Niall wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her towards him.
"Yeah, H, come on." He pretended to pout, fluttering his lashes at me causing me to laugh.
"Alright, alright, but you lot are responsible for waking my ass up tomorrow!" I said, emptying out the last pill in my hand before popping it in my mouth. Anna smirked, peeking up at Niall then back at me.
"Deal." She said, biting her lip.
Everyone started to feel the drug around the same time. It became an instant love fest. Hugs, kisses and so much touching. This was the normal with us, a giant orgy of a fucking friend group. Truth was everyone had fucked, touched, kissed done just about everything with everyone.
Except Anna and I.
It was the one boundary I never crossed.
But tonight, I wanted to cross it a million times over. I sat on the couch as everyone was up dancing. Tanya had found herself attached to my neck, her legs across mine as she nipped, sucked and kissed at my skin. She was trying to work me up, to get me to return the same lust towards her, but my eyes were fixed on Anna as she danced on Niall.
I watched as she reached her hands up, wrapping around Niall's neck, her perfect ass moving in motions that would drive any man wild, pushing back against him. He had his hands all over her, along her waist line, her hips. I saw him reaching between her legs, applying pressure in ways I knew I could do better. She tossed her head back onto his shoulder, turning her face so she could suck at his neck. I closed my eyes, pretending Tanya was Anna. Pretending she was dancing on me, her ass moving against my cock, it hardening at the idea of being that close to her.
I opened my eyes, looking back over at her and to my surprise she was already looking at me. Her eyes were skimming over the situation that was Tanya, her lips pursing. She shook her head, using it to call me over. I wasn't sure at first, until she mouthed the word.
"Come here." Her lips curled and I didn't hesitate.
"'Scuse me." I said pushing Tanya gently off of me.
"Harry, what the fuck!" I heard her say, but it didn't matter because I was moving straight to where I was being called.
I moved to stand in front of Anna, licking my lower lip, "You called."
She giggled and nodded, peeking up at Niall, "Baby, can I dance with Harry?"
Niall opened his eyes, as if coming to for the first time in a while, clearly on more than just the molly, "Yeah, that's fine." He said kissing her neck, "Just for a little." He started to let her go and she quickly grabbed his arm, turning around to face him.
"No, I want to dance with both of you." She said slyly, her hand moving up his arm. He looked down at her hand, then back to her face. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, feeling overwhelmed by everything going on. I wanted to touch her already, and I didn't want to wait for his response.
I moved forward, wrapping my arm around Anna's waist, pressing my cock into her ass. I was already hard and I wanted her to know it. I felt a pang of energy flow through me as she rolled her hips softly back, grinding on me. I felt my eyes want to close, but I had to do something first. I had to make Niall think this was his idea.
"She thinks she can handle us both mate, ain't that a funny thought." I said, smirking over at him. He narrowed his eyes a bit at me, taking in the situation then shaking his head.
"We ain't doing this mate. Not with her." He said, running his hands through his hair, watching my hands move over her stomach.
"Doing what?" Anna said, a slight innocence that didn't suit her layering her voice.
I took a chance, the risk of Niall decking me was something I could take. I turned my face into her neck, running the tip of my nose along the length of it. I heard her inhale sharply, pressing my lips against her neck. I didn't kiss her, I just spoke against it.
"Niall and I, we used to have a certain thing we liked to do. It was a game almost." I said, pressing a soft kiss against her neck.
I heard her hum softly, a slight laugh escaping her lips, "Mm, a game? What was the game baby?" She said, pulling him closer to her. Niall's eyes searched Anna's face before his eyes shifted to me.
"Haz..." he said, his face so serious.
"He's scared I'll win if we dare to play again." I smirked, and he cocked his head to the side.
"You forget I have the upper hand here Styles." He said, challenging me, so I knew my taunting was working.
"And yet, I'd still win." I said, raising and lowering both my eyebrows, my lips moving back to Anna's neck causing her head to fall back slightly.
That's when it happened, the switch in Niall's head, "We used to see who could make a girl come more. That's the game."
Anna's head went straight, her face turning to me and then to Niall, "But then couldn't one of you just lie?"
"Oh no, Anna," I said, my hand wrapping around her neck, my thumb and pointer finger applying the softest pressure. I moved my lips to her ear, "We did it at the same time, taking turns. Whatever worked."
"Oh..." she swallowed, her face turned to me, and I loosened my grip on her neck a bit, then back to Niall. She licked her pink lips, "I wanna play." She said softly.
Niall took a deep breath, swallowing hard before he glared up at me, "Fine. Once everyone leaves, until then, keep your hands off her." He pulled her out of my arms and I chuckled, quickly reaching down and adjusting myself. I threw my hands up in defense and nodded.
"Hands off. 'Til later anyways." I smirked.
Everyone had slowly left the party, I sat on the couch, sipping on a whiskey. I laid my head back on the couch, closing my eyes, the molly was making me jittery at this point, but I didn't know what to do with all the extra energy.
As I sat, I felt someone climb on me, a leg on either side of me. My freehand moved to feel a bare leg, making me question who it was; but it was the damn Black Opium that let me know it was Anna. I smirked, keeping my head back and eyes closed.
"Is it game time already?" I teased and she giggled. I was surprised to feel her lips on my neck, my senses flying out the window the moment it happened. She kissed up to my ear, biting it softly.
"Niall's just locking up. I told him I was going to get started." She said, before pressing her lips on my earlobe.
Fucking hell.
I opened my eyes, sitting up and she pushed back so we could lock eyes, "Be an angel and place this down for me." I said, before quickly downing my whiskey and handing her the glass. I held onto her waist as she bent back placing the glass on the floor. She was in just her crop top and lace burgundy thong. I helped her sit back straight on me, but I pulled her closer to me, so our faces were inches from each other.
"I'm going to win," I whispered, "And you're going to regret not picking me."
Anna's POV
I searched his eyes and swallowed hard. There was a darkness that filled his eyes, just as his hand cupped my face pulling me in and kissing me deeply. His tongue quickly finding mine. For a moment I didn't know what to do with my hands, still completely stunned by his initial comment. Before I even had a chance to think about it, I felt someone pull me off of him; flipping me around. My back was pressed into Harry, both of us falling back against the couch. Niall leaned down, biting at my lower lip, before kissing me deeply. He broke the kiss, looking over my shoulder at Harry, "I'll start."
He winked, standing up straight and slipping off his shirt; before lowering himself back down. He slipped his arms under the bend of my knees, slipping me down Harry's body so that my ass was hanging between the open space of Harry's legs. He dropped down to his knees, his lips moving up right thigh, placing kisses up it. His tongue moved up my thigh, skimming along the front line of my thong; tracing the bend of my upper thigh and hip. It drove chills through me, his lips moving to my center, his tongue lapping on my clit over the thin material of my thong.
My head fell back, remembering I was laying on Harry. I peeked up at him and he smirked, his hands soon on my body. His hands were so big, strong as they touched me, moving over my tits. He palmed at them over my crop top, my nipples hardening and I wanted nothing more than for him to slip it off me. Meanwhile, Niall's hands were on my hips, pulling my thong down and off my body. He bit at my legs as he made his way back to my middle, his tongue soon met my folds, moving my wetness along every part of my center.
"Mmm," I hummed, my hands reaching down into Niall's hair and as if I was giving him too much attention; Harry's hands pushed down my top, one hand on each of my tits, his fingers teasing at my nipples.
His lips were on my cheek, placing kisses on it as his hands moved on me. His lips moving down to my ear, whispering softly, "You feel good, Anna?" I felt myself nod, as Niall's tongue rolled on my clit, he sucked at it, causing my eyes to roll back, "You like when he eats you out like that angel? His tongue taking in your sweetness."
His words made me push Niall's head down further on me, his tongue moving down my slit, creating a figure eight motion along my opening, up to my clit. Each time he reached my clit he would suck on it softly, building an anticipation in me for every time it would come. Niall knew it drove me insane and he was using it to his advantage.
"Oh god, yes." I moaned out, and Harry pulled at my already hard nipples, causing me to yelp from the mixture of pain and pleasure I was feeling. He slapped my tits, palming at them to soothing the pain, and I heard myself whimper at the sensation. He did it, again and again, Niall adjusting himself to slip two fingers inside of me, instantly curling in me and meeting my sweet spot.
"Oh, fuck, Ni—that feels so...oh god." I moaned, my hips beginning to buck towards him, his fingers curving in me, his tongue on my clit. I felt every bit of me tremble at the feeling of being touched like I was, Niall's gentle roughness, mixed with Harry's aggressive nature was driving me to my edge.
"That's it angel, does he feel good? Do you feel good being eat out like that by him, hmm?" His hand moved up to my neck, choking me as his other hand kept rolling my nipples in his fingers. Niall moved his face, his thumb replacing his tongue on my clit, his fingers still moving inside me, quickly along my g spot, in and out.
"Look at me, petal." He cooed at me, and I bit my lip, struggling to move my eyes to him, "Come for me love." He encouraged me as my eyes found his. His thumb moving quick circles over my clit. My mess was clear on his chin and when he licked his lips, my back arched.
"Oh ... fu .. Niall." I moaned his name, my head falling back. Harry turned my face to his, kissing me deeply, his tongue running past mine. I moaned into our kiss, feeling the knot in my stomach the quicker Niall moved his thumb and his fingers. I broke the kiss, rest my forehead against Harry's cheek, whimpers escaping me.
"Come Anna, come so I can finally show you what you've been missing." Harry whispered and that was enough to take me there. The thought alone of finally have Harry touch me in this way carried me straight to my high. I felt myself clench around Niall's fingers, my mess spilling all over him.
"Oh god, yes. Mmm..." I said, feeling my body go limp. I didn't have a moment to breath, soon Harry was pulling me up, and laying me on the couch, leaving space between my head and the arm rest. I watched as he hovered over me, I took him in, his muscles, his tattoos. He was beautiful and I couldn't deny it. He unbuttoned his pants, his hard length clearly being suffocated by his tight pants. I pushed up, trying to help him, to offer relief and he quickly pushed me down.
"He's going to need you more than me." He said, pointing with his eyes in Niall's direction. I turned to face him, he was down to just his briefs, his hard length filling them up. He walked over and kneeled down, kissing me. I reached up and pulled his face closer to mine, thanking him for my high. He groaned against my lips, and I reach down, my hand palming over his length.
In that moment Harry placed three fingers on my clit, his motions were painstakingly slow on me, but due to my sensitivity from my previous high, it felt like he was moving quickly. I broke my kiss from Niall. Looking over at Harry, I felt a whine escape me, my hips pushing forward against his fingers and he used his free hand to push me down.
"Patience, angel. I know your sensitive right now. I know this still feels so good, don't it?" He teased and I felt my eyes roll back slightly.
"Harry please, oh god..." I begged but his fingers kept moving slowly on me.
"Come here." I heard Niall say, turning my face towards him, he squeezed my cheeks softly, slipping his thumb into my mouth, "Lend me your mouth, petal?" He said as he pulled out his cock from his briefs, precum already on his pink tip. I nodded in his hold, hungry for him, feeling so many sensations all over my body being touched by both of them. He pushed his cock in my mouth, not allowing anytime to adjust, shoving his length to the back of my throat. I swallowed against his length causing him to groan.
"Fuck Anna, your mouth." He said, pulling out only to thrust back in, over and over. My saliva was all over his cock, dribbling down my chin as he moved. His groans mixed with my name and Harry's slow movement on my clit made the knots in my stomach start to form.
"You look so pretty with his cock in your mouth, Angel." Harry said, his finger still moving in slow circles on my clit, my moan vibrating against Niall's cock as he pushed it deep in my throat.
"An — fuck baby." He pulled out, ramming back into my mouth, holding my head tight so I couldn't pull away. I felt my legs start to tremble, Harry's teasing movements on my clit starting to become so overbearing I knew I was going to come again. I pushed against Niall, needing to gasp for air. He pulled out, a string of my saliva clinging onto his cock. I turned to look at Harry, his cock was in his hand, pumping up and down his length as his fingers moved on me.
"Har — Uh, Harry I'm going to come, please don't stop." I said, my head falling back as I felt my release happen. As I began coming, he began moving his fingers faster on me, moving quickly from side to side on my clit. I screamed out in pleasure, "Harry, please." I moved my hand down to grab his but Niall quickly stopped it, wrapping his hand around my wrist. He brought it over my head, grabbing the other and doing the same. He had placed his foot up on the couch behind my head. He leaned down and kissed me, his tongue finding mine as Harry's fingers kept moving quickly on my clit.
"We can't play the game if you interrupt, baby." He said against our kiss, my moans causing me to turn my head away. Niall pushed up, letting go of my hands and moving to palm at my breasts, pinching my nipples as he did. I couldn't find the end of my current high and the start of the new one Harry was causing.
"Oh, oh god...fuck that feels so good." I moaned, my back arching, my hands reaching up to grab Niall's cock in them, I moved them along his length, my palm running over his tip. I moved another to palm at his balls.
"Fucking hell Anna. Fuck." He groaned, pinching my nipples hard and tugging them up. I licked my lips, feeling my releasing coming again, Harry fingers moving quicker.
"Come for me angel, come for me" Harry said, Niall's groans lacing with my moans created the most beautiful sound in the living space we were in, "God, yours so fucking wet Anna, come all over me baby, make more of mess on me, come on be a good girl my sweet angel."
"Oh—fuck, fuck, fuck." I yelled out, my legs trying to squeeze shut as he made me come again, an orgasm like I had never felt before shot through my body. I didn't have a moment ride it out, to come down from it, because soon Niall was sitting me up.
He sat on the arm rest of the couch, pulling me up so that my legs were between his. He held my body up, so I was hovering over him. I felt him wasting no time, rubbing the tip of his cock against my opening. The thing about Niall was, his cock was not only big in length, but in girth as well. He began pushing himself in me, lowering me onto himself. I moaned out in pleasure, my hands gripping onto his thighs. I was so wet, I had no problem adjusting around him. He moved me up and down his cock, my hips rolling on him each time he lowered me down.
"Niall, you feel so good." I moaned, tossing my head back onto his shoulder, I turned my head, kissing at his neck, biting it causing him to groan. I could see Harry out of the corner of my eye moving towards us on the couch. He stopped right in front of us on his knees.
I watched as he lowered his head down, his tongue finding my clit, rolling circles on it as I rolled my hips on Niall's cock. In doing so I kept pushing against his tongue, my head pushing back further on Niall's shoulders, my moans escaping me as my hand reached down and tangled itself in Harry's hair. His bun had become loose and messy, and I wanted it completely out. I pulled his mouth off me, pulling him up so we could lock eyes, Niall beginning to thrust fast into me as I kept rolling my hips.
"Fu—Fuck, oh god yes Niall...fuck." I said, all while holding eye contact with Harry. He narrowed his eyes at me, reaching between my legs, moving his fingers roughly against my clit, causing screams to escape me.
"I thought it was a game?" I said, forcing the words out of me.
"Fuck the game," he said, moving his fingers on me faster, he moved his body closer to mine, kissing me deeply, his tongue messily moving on mine. I felt Niall yank my head back by the hair, moving my lips to his but this didn't stop Harry. He moved it kiss me as well, all of our lips moving against each others, Niall's cock thrusting deeper inside me, Harry's fingers slowing down against my clit only to speed up, rolling along it, moving side to side.
"Oh, god, fu—uck...please..." my moans were interrupted by Harry taking control and kissing me deeply, his tongue running along mine, as his fingers kept moving on me. I could feel ever single one of my muscles tense up. I was so close to my high. I gripped onto Niall's thighs so I could bounce on him. Moving up and down his length, squeezing against him as I did, causing him to groan.
"Fuck Anna, fuck baby." He said, thrusting up as I moved my body down, hitting right against my sweet spot, pushing me over the edge. I felt every muscle release, I felt my release all over him. I broke from my kiss with Harry, my head tossing back as I moaned out in pleasure. Harry's mouth moving to my tits, sucking them as I rode out my high on Niall's cock.
"Come 'ere." I heard Harry say, my head falling back straight as he pulled me off Niall. He quickly flipped me so I was laying on the couch, bringing my left leg over his shoulder. He held his cock in his hand, rubbing against my opening, his thumb on clit. He began to slip inside me, his eyebrows furrowing as he hissed.
"God damn it, Anna...uh.." he groaned as he slipped inside me, my hands gripping at his biceps as he did. I took him in, in a way I hadn't ever before. His bare skin, his tattoos, they way his muscles flexed as he pushed in and out of me. He was so god like it felt unfair. As he pushed further in me, he pushed my leg toward my body, my thigh pushing against my torso. He was slipping in so deep, I felt like I couldn't handle all of him.
"Fuck, Harry...don't stop." I moaned, my eyes locked on his as I felt him pick up his pace. I for a moment forgot Niall was there until he appeared over me.
"I hate how much you're enjoying this petal." He said, reaching down and choking me, "I hate his bloody name coming out of your mouth like that." He said, Harry snickering, moving quicker in me, his strokes felt long and hard. I knew he was getting off on making Niall jealous and it was turning me on more.
"But he feels so fucking good." I choked out, knowing I was only adding fuel to the fire. I let my eyes roll back, moans escaping me as Harry kissed along my calf as he fucked me.
Niall slid his hand up to my jaw, turning my face toward his, "Open that pretty mouth petal, let me see your tongue."
I did as he asked, my tongue sticking out for him as he spit on it, before shoving his length in my mouth. My tongue immediately smooth along him, gagging as he pushed himself deeper in me. He was holding my face, his hand under my chin, groan escaping him.
Both of them, were fucking me relentlessly, Niall giving me small breaks to catch my breath before is cock filled my mouth again. Harry's thumb teasing my clit, slow and fast circles on me. He would add more of his body weight on my leg, pushing it closer to my body allowing him deeper in me.
I moaned, gagging every time I did, I was going to come again, I couldn't fight it. I knew they both were close to. Harry's movements becoming sloppy, his moans more consistent. Niall was gripping at his balls as he kept fucking my mouth, muttering my name like he did just before he came.
We were all going to come undone together, the thought making me push my hips up to meet Harry's. Niall's hand moving over my tits, pinching hard at my nipples.
And then everything went still. Quiet. Both of them groaning, exhaling that breath they had take as they came, their release filling me one way or another. Niall pulled out of my mouth, his thumb pressing on my lower lip, as I squeezed against Harry, keeping him inside me. He whimpered at the feeling, gripping onto my hips.
"Swallow like a good girl." Niall said, and I nodded, closing my lips against his thumb, and swallowing his come. I licked my lips and he bent down, kissing me deeply as Harry pulled out of me slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation. I felt him place a small kiss on my clit, then my thighs, before removing himself from me. He pushed off the couch, walking around so he was behind my head, leaning down, and shoving Niall's face from mine. He kissed me deeply and soon Niall and him were fighting for my lips.
I chuckled, turning so neither of them could kiss me. I turned back and looked at both of them, a small smirk on my face. "I'll gladly play this game again."
"Right now?" Harry teased.
"You two couldn't keep up." I winked, both of them looking at each other then back at me.
"Try us." Niall smirked, before kissing me again.
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cherrycheridarling · 10 months
Text
cherry | h.s.
harry styles x famous!reader
warnings: sad? it's a rollercoaster
summary: how 'cherry' came to be
wc: 2.5k
a/n: can be read w/ baby or on its own
are we rlly surprised abt this? look at my user;)
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'Don't you call him baby.'
Harry sat on his plush couch, telly on volume 11 as interviews from The Emmys went live.
"Here we have Y/N Y/L/N! Looking as gorgeous as ever! How are you?" the man asked as he kissed both of your cheeks.
Harry had to agree with the man. You were a stunning picture in a skintight iridescent gown that somehow left little and just enough to the imagination at the same time. The dainty silver accents adorning your ears and wrists, chest bare with a slight shimmer of something that wasn't sweat or glitter, but just pure radiance in Harry's eyes.
You adjusted your stance before answering, "Good, good. And yourself?"
"Fantastic! I hear you're nominated for three awards tonight! Congratulations! How do you feel about all of that?" Harry wasn't surprised by your achievements seeing as he kept his tabs on you ever since the breakup.
You nodded with a timid smile, "I am, yes. It's all a little nerve wracking if I'm being honest with you."
The man grinned before it looked like his attention had been stolen by someone else, "Oh look, there we have your knight in shining armour!"
The camera panned to Tom Holland walking in your direction. Harry forced himself to watch as Tom came to stand beside you and kissed your cheek with an arm around your waist. Even with the microphone being unable to pick up your voices, your small interaction could be read off your lips.
"Hello, darling." Tom's lips moved as he winked.
"Hi, baby." your smile was warm as you spoke.
Harry abruptly turned off his telly at that moment. Memories of that name being used to address him flooded his brain. He threw his head back against the cushions and let the sting wash over him. It'd been a little less than a year since you guys called it quits, but the wounds still bled.
'We're not talking lately.'
"Do you remember that promise we made?" you asked as Harry rested his forehead against your knees while your fingers ran through his hair.
You felt him nod as a tear rolled down your cheek for the hundredth time. "We'd always stay friends and support each other even if we don't last." he replied from below you on his knees while you were sat on the couch.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, "Can I adjust that promise?"
His movements seize the second the question left your lips. He lifted his head and met your glossy gaze with an equally bloodshot one.
"What do you mean?" his voice quivered in a way that made your heart shatter.
You slid your thumb along his cheekbone, "We need time apart to move on, ange. No communication while we deal with this. We can still support each other and love each other, but we need space in order to let each other go. Wouldn't you agree?"
Harry pondered on it for a moment before slightly nodding, "I guess so."
Neither of you said a word after that, just continuing to hold each other until the morning light came in and reminded you that everything still moves on even if you haven't.
'Don't you call him what you used to call me.'
July 23rd 2017:
"Baby, can you grab my purse for me, please?" you semi-shouted from the bottom of the stairs in your home.
Not a minute later, Harry came waltzing down towards you, "I wasn't sure which one you wanted today, so I took it upon myself to choose this one." he held up the Prada shoulder purse with a proud smile.
October 17th 2017:
"No." you deadpanned, but at his immediate frown you continued "Baby, I'm not dressing up as a socket so you can be the plug." you laughed incredulously at his suggestion.
Harry threw his hands in the air, "Come on! That would be the best costume ever!"
December 25th 2017:
"Happy Christmas, baby." you smiled at the man on your phone screen.
His lips turned down into a frown that somehow still looked like a smile, "Happy Christmas, darling. Wish we were together today."
January 1st 2018:
"Happy new year!" Harry screamed along with the room before turning to his love, "No one else I'd rather enter the year with." he smiled softly at you before meeting your lips with a kiss.
Confetti fell around you, champagne broke through the cheers with a 'pop' and yet, to you, it was silent, and there was no one there but him.
You broke apart still grinning, "Happy new year, baby."
'I, I confess I can tell that you are at your best. I'm selfish so I'm hating it.'
"And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to...!" Kevin Hart unfolded the envelope and immediately broke into a wide grin, "Y/N Y/L/N!"
The applause was immediate and deafening. You barely registered the first syllable of your name being called as everyone around you began to congratulate you and shower you with hugs.
You slowly made your way to the stage, being careful to not trip. You greeted Kevin with a hug as he handed you the award and your hands shook. As you stood in front of the mic, your mouth opened and closed like a fish.
"I-I- what?" you finally managed to sputter out as everyone chuckled.
You managed to get your wits about you and began to give out your thanks, while failing to notice the man in the audience who was holding back tears for you.
Jeff leaned over to Harry, "I know this is tough, but there will be cameras on you. Be careful of your expressions." he whispered as Harry momentarily shut his eyes and inhaled deeply.
Harry managed to plaster on a faux smile that would fool anyone else except you. He was ashamed of himself; he should be happy for you, he should've been on his feet cheering for you. But he couldn't. He refused to do that from 12 rows away when he should've been sat beside you. The smile on your face, the glow in your skin. All of it was something he hadn't seen since you were together and seeing it now only brought pain and sorrow to him.
He wished he had stayed home, but Jeff had convinced him that moping around in his home was only fuelling the rumours surrounding your break up, so he watched as you took your seat again and only when the next category was being announced did he excuse himself to the washroom and let the tears flow.
'I noticed that there's a piece of you in how I dress. Take it as a compliment.'
"Darling!" Harry's voice came booming from your temporarily shared home.
You sat on the couch in the living room and threw your head back, "Yes?!"
"Where's your striped jumper?!" he replied from your walk in closet.
You chose not to reply and instead left your seat to see what chaos he had caused. Upon entering your closet, there were piles of clothes on the floor and shoes tossed in every direction.
You chuckled, "What is going on?"
Harry's head snapped towards you, "I have an interview in 30 minutes and I need that jumper. Please, darling, help." he pouted at you.
You laughed a little more before walking out of the closet and pulling the sweater from a chair next to your bed. You cleared your throat while dangling the sweater from your finger and smirked, "Really should wear your glasses more often."
He covered his face with his hands as he realized he made a mess for no reason. As he took the jumper from your hands with a kiss to your lips and a thank you, you spoke again with a smile, "And get your own clothes."
"Why do that when I have you?" he grinned, "And don't touch any of the mess. I will clean it when I get back." his tone was serious but you struggled to hold in your laugh.
"I'll ju-"
"-No. Pinky promise you won't clean any of it." he held out his pinky with a raised brow.
You rolled your eyes before locking your finger with his. "Fine." the metal of the ruby ring on his finger that used to be yours was cold on your skin
He smiled as he kissed the place where your fingers interlocked and dashed out of the room with one last warning, "You pinky promised! No breaking it!"
"I, I just miss. I just miss your accent and your friends."
"Okay, Your Majesty." Harry mocked your RP accent for the thousandth time as you sat at Beachwood Cafe with Mitch, Sarah, Hazel and Max.
You gasped, "Would you stop that?! I do not sound like the Queen."
He was about to argue before Mitch chimed in, "Sorry, Y/L/N, but you kind of do." he giggled as he spoke.
Your jaw dropped as Harry started to laugh, "This is so unfair. I introduced you guys! You were my friends first! You're supposed to be on my side!"
They all started laughing together at your outburst as you rolled your eyes with a small smile.
"Did you know I still talk to them?"
Hazel was escorted to Harry's dressing room before his show in Vancouver while Max was in charge of finding parking.
Since it was her's and Max's hometown, Harry offered them tickets and backstage entry. It took a lot of debating with himself before he sent the text to Hazel, but his reasoning ultimately came down to not wanting to lose two friendships due to one relationship.
She took a moment to pause before knocking, and sighed a little when Harry looked up through the mirror with red, glassy eyes.
"What's going on, H?" she spoke softly as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.
Harry fully turned his chair around and felt his shoulders deflate, "Just miss her." he rolled his lips in between his teeth as a few tears managed to escape.
Hazel's heart fractured a bit in that moment as her phone started buzzing in her pocket with a call from you, "It's Y/N. Give me a minu-"
"-No. Please. I won't say anything. Can you put it on speaker?" he begged and although Hazel knew it was a bad idea she sighed before answering your call and following his request.
"Hey, Y/N/N!"
"Hi, are you at the show?" your voice ran through the room and Harry subconsciously leaned towards to the phone as if it would bring him closer to you.
Hazel suppressed a sigh from watching Harry before replying, "Yeah! It was really nice of him to invite us. What are you up to?"
"About to catch a flight to LA. Just wanted to make sure you got there safe." you laughed lightly through your lie and Harry's eyes automatically shut, trying to savour the sweet sound.
Hazel could hear your lie in your voice, but chose not to address it, "Yeah, Max is just finding parking right now. Why are you going to LA?"
Harry fought the urge to answer her question, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to know the answer.
You sighed slightly, "House hunting. Can't stay at Harry's anymore, so time to find my own place there."
Hazel nodded, forgetting that you couldn't see her before replying, "Oh. I see. Have you talked to H at all?"
Harry's head snapped up at his name being brought into the conversation.
"No, it's best if I don't." a mans voice was heard in the background before you spoke again, "Well, we're about to take off now. If you see him, wish him luck for me, will you?" your sadness was evident throughout your words.
Harry buried his head in his hands again as more tears escaped while Hazel replied, "Of course. Have a safe flight, Y/N/N. Love you, miss you."
"Thanks, love you and miss you too. Bye!" you blew a kiss into the phone before the dial tone was heard.
And for a moment, with his eyes shut, Harry allowed himself to imagine that those words were meant for his ears only.
"Does he take you walking 'round his parents gallery?"
"Hey, Haz," Tyler spoke up from the silence of the recording studio. They had just finished a long session and the rest of the team had already departed for the night, leaving Harry, Sammy and Tyler. "There's a new gallery opening on Saturday. Only there for a few nights. You wanna come with me and Sammy?"
Harry slowly turned in the spinning chair, "Sure. Whose gallery?" he bit into an apple as he finished speaking.
"Nikki Holland? Don't know who she is, but she's got some sick photos on Instagram." Tyler shrugged not noticing how Harry nearly choked on his fruit.
"Holland? As in Tom Holland's mum? Tom Holland as in Y/N's boyfriend, Tom Holland?" Sammy's eyes widened before he pulled out his own phone and went to Tom's instagram page. And sure enough, there was a post and a story of him promoting his mum's new gallery opening. "Just answered my own question." he rolled his lips between his teeth before chancing a glance at Harry.
Harry stared blankly at the floor before clearing his throat, "Probably not the best idea for me to show up there." he paused at their somber expressions, "Honestly, it's fine." he laughed lightly.
"Nah, we won't go either. Probably start rumours if we-"
"-Wait." Harry abruptly announced before reaching for the acoustic guitar on his left.
Tyler and Sammy shared a concerned expression with one another while Harry nervously fumbled with the strings of the instrument.
"Let me just- I just need to-" he struggled to find the right words to say, but there was no need.
Tyler shook his head and put his phone down, "Let's write it."
'Coucou!'
"Tu dors?" you frowned when your friend answered your call with a groggy voice.
She laughed lightly through the phone, "Oui. J'étais sur le point d'être."
"Oh, j'suis désolée."
She chuckled, "Ne t'en fais pas. Que s'est-il passé? A-t-il fait une demande en mariage?"
You sighed with a smile, thinking back on the day you spent with the lovely man behind you, "Bah non-"
"Je peux entendre le sourire effrayant dans ta voix. Que s'est-il passé?" she cut you off while mocking you.
You laughed loudly, "Nan, c'est pas important."
"Qu'avez-vous fait alors? Êtes-vous allé à la plage?"
You turned to look at Harry as he played a soft melody on a guitar. His eyes looked up to meet yours and he offered you a small grin that you returned, "Ouais, on a été à la plage, et maintenant on—"
She cut you off again with a loud laugh, "Allons prendre un verre et discuter. J'ai besoin de voir le sourire effrayant en personne."
You couldn't even deny her accusation. You were at the happiest you could be.
'Parfait! Allez!'
963 notes · View notes
freedomfireflies · 1 month
Text
Insufferable You*
Summary: The third part to Infinite You*
The one where Harry is still in an open relationship with your best friend, so maybe it's time to remind him what he's missing.
Word Count: 7.3k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, edging, spanking, brief exhibitionism, sir kink, masturbation, brief choking
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“Kitten…what are you doing?”
Your whimpers are airy. Light. A string of breathless pleas woven between the soft sounds of your fingers fucking into your cunt. And you can’t answer his question. Can’t find the strength to pull yourself away from the pleasure between your thighs.
“Kitten,” he asks again and it’s firm. “Talk to me.”
He’s panting through his request and the sound—the image in your head of the way he must look, fucking his fist to the melody of your voice almost hurts you.
“I’m…I’m playing with my clit,” you answer. He groans. “Just like you do.”
“Just like me, hm?” He curses on his end of the phone and your legs shake. “How?”
“M’pinching it,” you tell him. “And pulling it. The way you like.”
His noises are louder. Needier. He must like the image in his head, too. “God, I’d give anything to see it, baby. Give fucking anything to watch you touch yourself for me.”
Anything. Anything. You shiver. “Yeah? You’d watch me?”
“Mhm.” He’s getting closer and you don’t want this to end. “Sit there on my knees and take every drop in my mouth when you’re done.”
Your hips buck up and your fingers sink deeper. He ruins you even when he’s not here. “I know,” you whisper. Your eyes squeeze shut. “And I’d let you.”
He makes a sound that might be a laugh but could be a strained moan. You aren’t sure. But you don’t really care because it’s beautiful, no matter what it is. “Kitten,” he exhales and your insides twist. “I need you to cum for me, okay? I need to hear you. God, I need to fucking hear you, baby, let me. Come on—”
There’s something in the way he speaks. Like he’s just woken up. Rough and low and thick. He sounds like sex and you miss hearing it in person. But you were desperate—you had to call him. You had to hear him talk you through this moment and you’re so glad you did.
When you cum, it’s everything. Perhaps not as satisfying as when it’s with him, but still euphoric. And your whimpers of pleasure are what send him over the edge.
The phone fills with the sounds of your ecstasy and you wish you could record the way he moans your name. You wish you could bottle this feeling and get drunk on the way he adores you. 
Instead, you indulge in the few moments you have with him. Because you know they won’t last much longer.
“That was good,” you tell him breathlessly and he chuckles. “How are you so good at that? Even over the phone?”
“Could ask you the same thing. Now I’ve got a sticky hand and nobody to clean it up.”
You pout. “Stop, don’t tell me that. It’s not fair.”
He laughs again. “Sorry, Kitten. Couldn’t help it. You all right? You feel better?”
“I do. Thank you for letting me call you.”
“Always.”
Your heart skips. “So…what are you up to today?”
There’s a pause. A long pause and you know what he’s going to say even before he says it. “Rebecca and I are running some errands.”
“Oh.” Oh. Your throat goes dry. “Right…sorry, I’m…you probably need to go, don’t you?”
Another pause. “In a bit,” he says. “After I make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” you say far too quickly. And far too obviously forced. “Yeah, no, I’m…duh. Obviously I’m okay now. After…yeah. Okay, sorry. You can…I’ll talk to you later—"
“Kitten.”
You stop. “What? I’m…I’m letting you go—”
“Don’t. I want to talk to you a little longer.”
“But you’re busy—”
“It can wait.”
Swallowing, you whisper, “Harry, I’m…I’m just saying—”
“So am I.” He’s firm again. “Don’t do that. Don’t send me away because of her. We can talk. I promise.”
Your eyes squeeze shut. You force the tears back. Why does orgasming make you so emotional? “I know, I just…she’s there, isn’t she?”
Another beat. “Not in the room.”
“But she’s there. In the apartment. Near you.”
“Yes.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “See, that’s…that’s why I’m letting you go. So you can be with her. Okay? I’ll talk to you later—”
“Kitten.”
“Harry.” You huff if only to make yourself sound stronger than you feel. “I’m okay. You can go.”
“You’re not okay. You’re sad.”
“I’m…no, I’m not sad, I’m just…I’m tired. I came really hard.”
“I know you.”
“Well…you don’t know me that well. Cause I’m fine.”
“Baby—”
“Just go,” you insist. “I promise I’m okay as long as you are. I shouldn’t have called so early anyway, that was…I’m sorry. That was my mistake—”
“You can call when she’s here, you know that—”
“But I don’t want to.”
Another long pause that feels like an eternity. “Okay,” he finally murmurs and you pull the phone away to take in a shaky breath. “But I want your honesty. Okay?”
“Sure.”
“Are you really okay?”
Truthfully, you don’t know. “Yeah, I’m fine. Swear. Thanks for helping me. I’ll talk to you later?”
“You will,” he agrees. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Rebecca’s dinner.”
Fuck. You forgot. “Oh…right—”
“You’ll be there. Right?”
It doesn’t really feel like you have a choice. “I…I don’t know yet, I might be busy—”
“You’re not.”
“You don’t know that. I could have plans.”
“You do. With us.”
Us. Your nose scrunches. “I mean other plans—”
“You don’t.”
“I might—”
“You don’t. If you did, I’d know.”
“Well, that’s presumptuous.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. Because you talk to me. When I ask you a question, you answer honestly. You’re a good girl. I know you.”
Your chest feels tight again. “Well, I don’t tell you everything.”
“You should.”
“You don’t tell me.”
“Because you don’t ask.”
He’s right. You never ask him anything personal because honestly, you’re afraid of what he’ll say.
“Fine,” you agree. “I’ll be there. Are we done?”
He waits a moment before saying, “We’re not done. We’ll discuss this later. But for right now, yes.”
And even if he sounds a bit strict, you can’t help smiling. “Yes, Sir.”
“Mm. That’s my girl. Take it easy today, all right?”
“I will.”
“Good. See you tomorrow, Kitten.”
“Goodbye, Sir.”
He chuckles and you hang up and even despite everything else…you can’t help but grin.
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“Oh, my god. He does. Every time. He’s got such a weird thing with feet.”
You laugh. “It wasn’t so bad at first. But then he got a little too comfortable—”
“No, he does that. He really does.” Rebecca smirks as she throws the freshly chopped carrots into her pot. “And it started out cute, but now…”
You both glance into the living room where Harry is relaxing on the sofa. He’s smiling as he watches the two of you work on the food and even if he can’t hear you, he must know you’re talking about him.
“It’s still cute,” you argue in his defense. “Gross…but cute.”
She laughs. “Yeah, I guess he can be cute when he wants to be.”
You grin together and this feels good. You’ve missed your friend. You’ve missed having someone to laugh with, gossip with. And maybe it was strange at first, to come into their apartment and talk to your best friend about sleeping with her boyfriend.
But after a minute or two, you settled right back into the familiar rhythm of your friendship. And it almost felt…normal. 
“Has he done the thing where his left leg starts to shake when he gets overstimulated?” she asks and you nearly snort. 
“Oh, my god. Yes. The other day. I thought he was having a heart attack.”
“It’s the funniest thing. It just started, too. Couple years ago. He swears it doesn’t but like…I can see it.”
“It’s quite the tell,” you agree and you can’t help the way your eyes drift back to where he’s lounging on the sofa.
He notices and smirks at you.
“What?” you call.
He shrugs. “Nothing. You girls are cute, that’s all.”
“Bite me,” Rebecca says and he chuckles. “We’re not cute. We’re hot.”
“Absolutely,” he agrees. He leans forward. “Let me guess. You’re telling her about the leg thing?”
“Yup. And I was right,” she says smugly. “She sees it, too.”
His eyes roll but he smiles at you. “It’s not that bad—”
“No, it is,” she argues. “You look like a dog. A very cute dog, but still.”
He laughs a little louder and you’re almost jealous of their dynamic. A dynamic you’ve been witness to for almost five years. And it’s never made you jealous before.
But now…
She puts the soup on simmer and grabs your hand to lead you to the living room. “I told you we were gonna gossip about you,” she reminds him. “All good things, don’t worry.”
“I’m sure.” He smiles at you both as you take a seat on the sofa. She flops down right beside him while you cautiously sit on the other end. Exactly where you’d been that first day you agreed to this arrangement. “This is nice,” he says.
She hums. “Yeah, it feels like old times.” She glances toward you. “And it’s not weird…is it? I mean, you feel okay?”
Feeling a little hot under the spotlight, you swallow and force a quick shake of your head. “No, this is…it’s good. This is fun.”
However, she knows you better than anyone and her brows pull together as she studies you. “Do you have any questions? Or anything we can clear up?”
“Uh…I don’t know.” Truthfully, you don’t want to ask. “Is it…is it weird for you guys?”
They both shake their heads, almost as if in sync, and you resist the urge to scrunch your nose.
“Do you…have any regrets?”
“No,” she says and Harry agrees. “None. Do you?”
“No,” you echo. “No, I just…I don’t know. This still kind of feels like cheating.”
They exchange a glance and your heart skips. You’re even jealous of the way they look at each other.
“Rebecca and I have always agreed that whatever the other decides to do is their business,” Harry says. “As long as we communicate, there's freedom there. No judgment, no expectations, no regret.”
“And no jealousy,” she adds, offering you a soft smile. “Or shame. Or anything like that.”
You nod and pick at a loose string on your jeans. “And are you two…I mean do you still…”
“No,” she assures you and you’re thankful she figured out what you meant. “No, we haven’t in a few weeks.”
“Oh…because of me?”
She shakes her head while Harry says, “Not entirely. Most of it is for safety reasons. Keeping things clean and respectful. But it’s also one of our rules.”
“Rules?”
“We have a few rules we like to follow,” she explains. “It just makes it easier. Sometimes it can be tricky and this helps keep us on the same page.”
“And no sex is one of them?”
“Kind of. We don’t sleep together if one of us is seeing someone else. Well, no penetration, anyway.”
You hate the way your stomach sinks. “Oh. And…do you date other people…a lot?”
He looks over at her and she thinks. “Not…really?” she says. “I don’t think, anyway.”
“Jack was the last guy you were with, right?” Harry asks and she snaps her fingers.
“Jack. Right. Yeah. He was cute. And then yours was…Angie? I think?”
He nods. “Last year.”
“She was nice.”
“She was…sure. Yeah. She was nice.”
Rebecca laughs and he grins proudly, happy to have made her laugh. Your nose scrunches.
“She wasn’t that bad,” Rebecca argues. “She was just put in a weird position.”
“Literally and figuratively.”
She smacks his arm playfully and he pinches her thigh. You want to look away. 
“Either way,” she finally says, “we don’t very often. And I don’t think of it as cheating. Especially not with you. Because I know he’s a good partner and I know that you deserve someone as kind as he is.” 
He gives her a grateful grin before returning his attention to you. “We can stop if you want. Because I agree with Bex. I wouldn’t want to lose you as my friend and if you feel pressured or unsure—”
“I don’t,” you nearly rush to argue. “No, I don’t, I…I’m just really struggling with the dynamics of it. I guess.”
“Trust me, I get it,” she says gently. “It was a bit of a learning curve for us, too. Harry can get incredibly jealous.”
You’re tempted to tell her that you already know but you watch his reaction instead.
His eyes roll but then his stare returns to you and he winks, as though he’s recalling the same memory you are. 
It makes your skin feel warm.
“Oop, hold on. I gotta check the soup,” Rebecca suddenly exclaims before jumping off the sofa to rush back to the kitchen.
And now left alone together, your attention is drawn back to the tall, handsome man you can already feel staring at you.
“Any more questions?” he asks softly. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and somehow, even that makes you feel safer. 
“Just one,” you murmur and he nods. “Does this mean you and I are…dating? Or are we just fucking until I can find somebody else?”
There’s a slight edge in your voice that you hadn’t meant to be there, but he picks up on it instantly.
“Are you looking for somebody else?” he asks.
“Not really. But this whole thing started because you both felt bad for me,” you remind him. “And it’s been a lot of fun. Honestly. But you are kind of on loan. I just…I’m not sure what this makes our situation. If we’re just fucking…or more.”
He takes a moment to think about his answer, eyes flicking between yours almost as though studying you. “Would you like there to be more?”
You bite back huff. He’s very good at redirecting. “I don’t know. Would you?”
“I think more can get complicated.”
Your feel your expression fall. “Right.”
“And I don’t want to lose you from my life for good,” he continues. “You know that. Neither of us want to lose you—”
“Right, yeah. It’s fine. Forget I asked.”
He’s frowning now. “Kitten, don’t do that—”
“No, really,” you argue. “It’s fine. You’re right. Let’s just keep it like this until I can find somebody else.”
The frown turns into a glare. “Kitten—”
“Okay, soup is almost done,” Rebecca announces as she returns. This time she sits next to you and throws an arm around your shoulder. “What did I miss?”
The tension is palpable. You speak first. “I was just telling Harry that I might not need his services much longer.”
Rebecca’s eyebrows raise while Harry’s scowl deepens.
“Oh?” she asks.
You nod. “Well, seeing as we don’t want to do anything to ruin the friendship…I thought I’d give Ethan a call.”
It’s mean and perhaps a bit cruel, but you can’t help yourself. You aren’t trying to hurt him. Because he is right. And don’t want to lose him for good, either, and all this evening has truly done is prove how close he and Rebecca actually are.
You’ll never be able to compete with five years of love and affection. And maybe you don’t want to.
Maybe it’s time to move on.
“Ethan?” Harry repeats while Rebecca perks up.
“Yes,” she squeals excitedly. “Oh, I was hoping you would. He’s so nice, I think you guys would be perfect together.”
“Yeah,” you agree with a pointed look at Harry. “I think so, too.”
He knows what you’re doing. You can tell. And he’s oddly calm as he leans against the cushions and tosses his arms over the back of the couch. “And who the fuck is this Ethan?”
“Guy from my work,” you answer, equally as calm. “Nice. He’s been asking me out for a while.”
“A while.”
“Yeah, a while.”
His brows furrow. “So why do you want to go out with him now?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “He was never really my type before but we’ve gotten closer recently. I think it’s only fair I give him a real chance.”
“Really?” He’s curious. Maybe skeptical. “Now?”
You nod. “That way the three of us can preserve our friendship. Since that is the most important thing.”
“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Rebecca tells you and hugs you to her side. “You’ll have to let us know how it goes.”
You grin and it’s all teeth. “I will.”
Dinner is nice. Tense but nice. You and Harry spend a majority of the meal exchanging icy glances and keeping to yourselves, leaving Rebecca to do most of the conversing.
And she doesn’t seem to notice. That or she merely pretends not to. She catches you up on some drama at work. Teases Harry about his sleep talking. Says she’s planning to visit her parents in a few weeks and then gives you the recipe for the soup.
And you and Harry nod politely, despite the unspoken rage from your ends of the table.
When dinner is finished, Harry offers to clean up and do the dishes. She kisses him on the cheek gratefully and says she’s gonna go take a quick shower since she’s got an early day tomorrow. She tells you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like and then she hugs you tightly and whispers, “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”
You hug her back and agree.
The moment she’s gone, Harry sets down his sponge and turns to you. “Come here.”
You hesitate by the front door, itching to escape. But he’s firm as he watches you from the sink, eyebrow raised and jaw clenched, leaving you no choice but to listen.
“Kitten,” he repeats. Lower. Sterner. “Come. Here.”
You take a tentative step toward him. “What?”
“We need to talk.”
“Do we?”
“Kitten.”
You huff and throw your purse back down. “I really don’t think we need to—”
“I don’t care what you think. I’m telling you that we’re gonna have a chat and you’re gonna come in here like a good fucking girl and talk to me.”
This is how he gets you. This is how he pulls your strings and turns you around until you obediently join him in the kitchen. Like a good fucking girl.
Satisfied, he leans back against the counter. “Now. What’s this Ethan shit you pulled?”
“It’s not shit, it’s real,” you huff. “He really did ask me out and I really am going to say yes.”
“But you haven’t yet.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I told you. He wasn’t my type—”
“No, I want the real answer.”
You frown. “That is the real answer—”
“No,” he repeats. “It’s not. And you know it.”
You cross your arms and look down at your shoes. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He wasn’t my type but now he is.”
The argument lulls and the small kitchen falls silent. You hear him sigh and it almost hurts to hear how heavy his disappointment hangs.
But a moment later, he’s slipping his fingers beneath your chin and raising your eyes to his. They’re soft. Serene. Filled with everything he can’t seem to find the words to say and you hate how quickly your body begins to crave him.
“You aren’t being honest with me, baby,” he murmurs. Your lashes flutter. “You aren’t communicating with me. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you say and he sighs like he knows this is a lie. “Really, I just…I know myself. If I don’t put a bit of distance between us…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to breathe on my own.”
This makes him sad and it hurts you to know you’ve made him sad. “Kitten,” he whispers. He steps closer until his chest is brushing against yours. “If I’m doing something wrong—”
“You’re not. That’s the problem.” You swallow and he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “You’re doing everything right and I’m worried I’m gonna want you in ways that I shouldn’t.”
“Do you not want to want me?”
“Not…like that,” you admit. “Not when you’re still hers.”
He frowns. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about anyone else—”
“But I do. Because at the end of the day, you’re still her Harry. You’re on loan to me until one of you decides you shouldn’t be anymore—”
“Kitten—”
“And I can’t be with you in any way but physically. You said so yourself. More would get complicated and even if you wanted to be with me…I don’t think I could share you.”
 He considers this. A long moment passes. “So you’re punishing me,” he says. “You’re going out with this Ethan guy to prove that you don’t need me.”
“What? No.” You lean back but he doesn’t let go of your chin. “I mean…okay, maybe I wanted to piss you off a little but I really do think I need to be with someone else in order to truly move on. I’m not punishing you. I’m…obeying you. If anything.”
He scoffs. “If you really wanted to obey me, you would have talked to me about what you were feeling.”
“I tried. You said more would get complicated.”
“It could. There’s always that risk. But I never said it wouldn’t be worth it.”
“So…what? You’d date me?”
“Of course.”
The answer is quick and it surprises you but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.
You blink. “You…really? You would date me? Like…officially?”
“I would.”
“And…what about Rebecca?”
“What about her?”
“You’d…you’d still be with her? Right? Even if we were together?”
He seems to know what you’re implying and sighs quietly. “Yes. I would.”
“And even if you weren’t…I’m assuming you would still want to be in an open relationship with me?”
Another pause. “Probably,” he admits, and even if you knew it was coming, you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. “That’s just the agreement I’ve always felt most comfortable with—”
“And that’s fine. I get it,” you assure him. You sniffle and he seems to wilt. “Really. I just…like I said, I don’t do well with sharing and if…if all we’re doing is fucking, I might as well just find somebody else, right? So that way the three of us can stay friends. And it doesn’t have to get weird.”
“I understand,” he says and you know he does. “I do, Kitten. And I would never keep you in a relationship you’re not comfortable in.” A beat. “But I can’t say that I like the idea of you going out with this guy.”
You smile. Gently. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
He looks down at you and takes your cheek in his hand. “You’re my girl,” he says. “No matter what. If you’re with me or not with me. You’re my fucking girl. And he doesn’t deserve even a second of your time.”
You fight a large grin and cling to his shirt. “You can’t say stuff like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“Because.” You play with his buttons. “You don’t get to be jealous when you’re still with her.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna like seeing you with someone else.”
You pout. “That’s not fair, Harry.”
“I know.” He brings his lips to yours. They hover—close—but never make contact. “I can’t help it. Can’t ever seem to help it when it comes to you.”
You want to push up and take his kiss, but he teases you just a little longer. “Harry—”
“Do you know that, Kitten?” His hands drop to your waist and he squeezes. Even though Rebecca is only two rooms away. Even though you can hear her humming in the bath. Even though he can never be yours. “Do you know how much I think about you?”
You swallow. Thick.
“How I think about the way you asked me to take care of you…” He ghosts his mouth down your neck. “The way you begged me to be rough….to spank you. Choke you. Degrade you.”
His voice is a sin and your eyes fall shut.
“Do you want me to degrade you, baby?” His fingers slip beneath your shirt. “Do you want me to pull you on my lap and spank you until you’re crying?”
The image in your head is somehow even better than his taunting. Your knees about buckle. “Harry…”
“You can find somebody else if you want to,” he whispers. “But do you really think they’ll be able to care of you the way I do? The way you want? The way you deserve?” 
His kisses find your chest while his knee slots between your thighs.
“I know how naughty you really are, baby girl,” he says and it’s over. “He will never know.” 
You grab his hair and he grabs your hips and you’re on the counter before you can even whisper his name. He pushes the hem of your dress up and guides your legs apart. He makes a home there, finger curling around the crotch of your panties in order to get a taste and it’s magic. Always.
And he does this to you only a few hundred feet away from where his girlfriend is innocently taking a shower. He does this, knowing she could walk out and see. He does this and you let him do this because there is no world in which you stop him.
“Harry,” you say—whimper—and he hums. His tongue licks up your cunt and your head drops back. “Har—wait—”
He doesn’t. He holds your thighs beside his cheeks and he sucks on your clit until you begin to squirm. “You promised to stay for dessert,” he says. “This is my dessert.”
The sounds are loud and beautiful and his curls feel good in your hands. You feel good in his.
Things fall to the ground. Bowls, pots, containers. He grins. He likes this, the danger. And he knows you like it, too. Because if you really wanted him to stop, he would. 
But you don’t. And you yank him closer to your pussy as though this will be the last time he ever gets a taste.
And deep down, you wonder if it is.
Either way, you enjoy his tongue and his lips and the tip of his nose that nudges your clit so expertly. You wonder how it’s possible to be so addicted to a man you’re not even with. A man that only recently started fucking you and a man that you’ve only ever considered a friend.
Part of you wants to get caught. Part of you wants things to implode. To believe that he’s doing this because he wants her to find out. Because what would happen if she saw? What would happen if he realized he wanted to end things? Would he be yours? Would he decide that your time and your heart and your pussy were infinitely more important than his sexual prowess?
You scrunch your nose. These are all the wrong questions. Harry doesn’t work like that. He never has and you can’t expect something from him that he won’t ever give you.
You return your focus to him. To the way his large hands are curling around your thighs and hoisting them up on the counter. You love his hands. You think they might be your favorite hands in the world.
They’re so gentle but strong. Practiced. You know they’d look good anywhere on your body. Your thighs, your chest, your throat…
You whimper at the thought and he glances up. He’s proud again. Drenched in your arousal and the evidence of your lust for him.
He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg and nips. He leaves marks and memories along the soft skin and you can’t wait to stare at them whenever he’s not around. The way he makes you his in the only way he can.
And you’re so close. You aren’t even sure how he got you here so quickly but he always seems to. And you don’t mind. Instead, you fist his hair and you buck against his tongue and he’s going to make you cum all over his girlfriend’s kitchen counter.
And then he stops.
He stops, he lets you go, and he pulls away.
Your heart drops to your toes as the orgasm fizzles down to nothing. “What…what are you—"
“Get down,” he says curtly. He slaps your outer thigh. “We’re leaving.”
He doesn’t tell you where you’re going. And you don’t ask. Instead, you watch as he wipes his mouth and disappears from the kitchen to wait by the front door.
After straightening your dress and readjusting your underwear, you scurry to his side with a fretful glance toward the bathroom. “Shouldn’t you tell her you’re going?”
He smiles. “She’ll figure it out.”
With that, you leave their apartment so he can take you back to your place and he keeps his hand on your thigh the whole drive. You wonder if he merely wants to keep some sort of claim on you or if it’s habit. 
Either way, his thumb rubs circles into your skin, right over the dark spots made by his lips and you smile. You want to lace your fingers with his. Want to hold his hand and pretend like the two of you are on your way home from a date. To pretend like this is normal—an everyday occurrence.
But you lose your nerve and soon, he’s pulling into the parking lot.  
“I want you upstairs,” he says and gives you a pointed look. “On the bed. Naked. And waiting for me by the time I come up.”
You nod quickly. “Okay. Are…am I in trouble—”
“That depends on if you obey.” He unlocks the door. “So let’s hope you do.”
Swallowing a giddy grin, you scurry from the vehicle and into your building. You don’t bother with tidying up or adjusting your appearance. You run straight into your bedroom, rip off your clothes, and spread out into a starfish position on the bed.
You hear him follow not much later. Slow, deliberate steps. Meant to taunt you, tease you. Make your stomach flip. And it works.
When you see his tall, muscular figure in the doorway, your pulse skips.
Smiling, you call, “Hi, Sir—”
“No speaking,” he says shortly. “Unless I say otherwise. Is that understood?”
“Yes—no—sorry, I’m…” You stop. Nod. 
He frowns but you know it’s only to hide a smirk. “Don’t test me, Kitten. You’ve already done that enough this evening, have you not?”
Another nod.
“And you knew better, didn’t you?” He walks into the room and begins to unzip his jeans. “Knew better than to dangle fucking Ethan in my face.”
You nod again but your eyes are trained on his hands. On the fingers that pull the hem of his shirt up and over his head.
“And you fucking knew…that if I got a taste of such a sweet pussy…I’d never stop,” he murmurs. He crawls onto the bed, wearing nothing more than his briefs. “That I’d forgive you. And let you off the hook.”
You don’t nod this time. You can’t. You’re too far gone in the lust in his eyes. The gentle green that’s now dangerous and luring you in.
“Well,” he whispers and then he smiles. “You thought wrong.”
He grabs your thighs and flips you over. Before you know it, you’re on your stomach, head spinning, while a large palm comes down in a sharp smack to your ass.
You jolt. Shriek. 
“Easy,” he says and he’s kinder now. “You’re gonna take your punishment like a good little whore, aren’t you?”
Now you understand. You see. And you settle onto the bed as he smooths the stinging print with the soft of his hand. 
You nod.
“Good.” He spanks you again. “I think we should do one for every time you lied to me. For every time I asked for the truth…and you refused to give it to me.”
Your lashes flutter. You suppose that’s only fair, although in your defense, the truth would have only hurt him.
“Let’s see…we’ll start with five,” he says and you exhale a sigh of relief. “Because I know you don’t mean to be a bad girl, do you?”
You whimper.
“You want to be good. Want to behave for me.” He spanks you. Number three. “You want a lot of things from me, don’t you? And maybe I’m bad, too. For not being able to give them to you.”
The air in the room shifts and you attempt to glance back.
However, he lays another firm smack to your ass before you can and then squeezes your hip. “Come on, you’re almost done,” he coos. A beat passes. “Do you remember me mentioning the traffic light system?”
You nod.
“Red for stop, yellow for pause, green for good, keep going?”
Nod.
“Good. Then I want you to use your words and tell me what color you are right now. Honestly.”
“Green,” you whisper, then clear your throat and speak louder. “I’m green. Honestly.”
He hums. “And you’re gonna take your last strike, yes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And you’re gonna thank me for being so generous to such a selfish fucking whore?”
Your cheeks flush. Oh, he’s very good. “Yes, Sir.”
You still can’t see him but you can imagine his grin.
The last spank of his hand lands against your tender skin and somehow…it feels good. There’s something delicious about his pain. About the way he inflicts it. The way your body responds to it.
You groan—moan—and finally manage, “Thank you, Sir.”
He purrs something devious as he strokes the spot and begins to kiss his way up your spine. “Good fucking girl,” he breathes. The exhale of his praise dances across your back and you shiver. “Took your punishment so well. Wasn’t so bad, was it? Bet you even fucking liked, dirty thing. Didn’t you?”
You nod again and feel his knee begin to nudge its way back between your thighs. 
“Let’s check, shall we?” His fingers move now for the mess you already know is there. And when he feels it, he curses. “Fucking shit, Kitten, you’re soaked.”
You are. You are soaked and you’re making a mess of your duvet and his knee and he still hasn’t let you cum yet and you think you might die if he waits any longer. 
“Harry,” you nearly cry. “Please…please…”
He brings his kisses to the back of your neck. To the place below your ear that makes your stomach flip. He kisses. Sucks. Nips and violates the skin with his teeth.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Okay, but only because I know you need it.”
You nod again and begin to turn over. He goes to stop you—he wants to try from behind—but you insist.
“I want to see your face,” you say. “Please, I just…I need that tonight.”
The softness in his eyes and the fall of his expression almost hurts you. You don’t want to cause him pain or confusion. Ever.
But he’s not confused. He understands. And he agrees because maybe he needs it, too.
You pull him out of his briefs and he hikes your leg around his hip. Until the heel of your foot is digging into his ass and pulling him forward.
When he first pushes in, you both take a moment of silence to appreciate the beauty of your bodies connecting.
Harry was once your best friend and now he’s something else entirely. A completely different entity and you never imagined you’d see his cock disappearing into your cunt but now you don’t want to imagine his cock anywhere else.
When he’s about halfway in, he pulls back out and begins a steady pace. He’s large and he knows you need a moment or two to find the pleasure before he picks up a faster rhythm. So, he puts the focus on you. On your clit, on your thighs, on the way his lips feel against yours.
He kisses you—soft, sweet. Gentle. And then he kisses your neck. Your chest. Plays with your tits and whispers about how good they feel in his hand.
Then, he buries himself to the hilt as his hips find yours.
You arch and he catches you. There are more kisses, more soft murmurings. And there’s an intimacy here that doesn’t feel like sex. It feels like making love, a term you once scoffed at but now indulge in. Because maybe he does love you, in the only way he knows how. Maybe he does choose your body over hers. Maybe this was the best thing that ever could have happened to you. 
You grab his hand and bring it to your throat. Pointed enough that he knows what you want and after a quick glance for consent…he squeezes.
Your lashes flutter and you press on his knuckles. Harder. He obeys.
And you were right. His hand does look good on your body. A necklace to wear proudly and he whispers your name before tightening his grip and allowing the sides of your sanity to go fuzzy before loosening his fingers. 
You breathe. Deep. The air tastes like him and you love it.
He smiles. “You okay?”
“More than okay. That was…shit, I really like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Probably cause you’re doing it.”
He uses this hold to kiss you and it’s a mess of tongues and spit and loud sucking. It makes you giggle.
“You’re making this very hard for me,” he suddenly whispers.
“Well, I prefer you hard.”
He smirks, but this is not what he means. “I want this to work.”
“I know. I do, too.”
He surges forward—a sharp thrust. “It can’t work if Ethan’s in the picture.”
Oh. “Why? Because you need room for Rebecca?”
He sighs and you hate how sad it sounds. “I know I’m not being fair—”
“You’re not.”
“I can’t help it—”
“Well, neither can I.”
He stops for a moment and looks at you. “You have every right to go out with him. I know that. But I think I’ll lose my fucking mind if you do.” He continues to roll his body against yours and you want to purr. “So I want to make a deal.”
“Okay…”
“If you go out with Ethan, you go out with me,” he says. “If you date him, you date me. And I’ll play nice. I’ll share. But only until you realize he’s a waste of time.
You run your fingers along his shoulders. Along his back. Along the curve of his ass. You think about his proposition. It sounds good, it does. A way to keep him while also keeping your options open. 
Because maybe this way, it won’t hurt so much when he still goes home to her.
“Can I think about it?” you ask. 
He kisses you. “Of course. Always.”
You resume the languid but fervent pace he previously set. He squeezes your neck whenever he wants to hear you whimper and you scratch your nails down his spine whenever you want him to groan.
And it’s perfect. Truly. Because while you’re on this date with Ethan, he’ll be able to see the marks Harry left on your throat.
And when Harry goes back to Rebecca, she’ll see the scratches down his back made by your hands.
You can’t help but feel satisfied with the idea and it brings you that much closer as Harry presses your hips to the bed and begins to fuck into you harder.
He readjusts his stance above you, knees deep into the mattress and hands clutching the sheets beside your waist. And every thrust is purposeful. Hard. Beautiful. The sounds are symphonic and when you look down to see, you nearly mewl. The way his cock is absolutely fucking covered in you, slipping in and out of your cunt with ease and determination. 
He’s beautiful when he’s focused. When he’s about to cum. You just want to kiss him and hold him and love him and be his.
And you fucking hate it.
“Need you to cum, baby,” he whispers and you nod in agreement. “Can you do that?”
“Yes….yes, Sir,” you stammer, already feeling the overwhelming power creep up your thighs. “I’m…I—”
“I know. I know, come on—”
You do. Just like that. Unravel like a spool of thread and dissolve into nothing but pleasure beneath him.
But you don’t feel him follow. In fact, he continues fucking you through your high until he suddenly pulls out and comes all over your swollen pussy.
It’s the most mesmerizing thing you think you’ve ever seen. The sticky substance paints your cunt in masterful strokes. Glistening from your body, your clit, your thighs like stars.
And you want to be disappointed that he didn’t finish inside but soon you understand why.
He takes your hand. Moves it closer and presses your fingers into the mess. 
“Touch it,” he whispers. “Fuck it back in.”
Your eyes widen. He smiles but the look in his eye is mischievous and deranged.
“Go on, Kitten,” he says. “I wanna watch.”
Your arms are shaking. In fact, every part of you is still shaking from your orgasm but you obey. You slowly—very slowly—begin to circle your touch around your clit. Feeling the way it nearly throbs as you stimulate it. As you force it into more pleasure.
Harry’s attention is glued to the show before him as he swallows thickly and you swear you can almost see his heart beating against his chest like a cartoon.
You move down. Collect as many drops of him as you can and slowly begin to ease two fingers into your fluttering hole.
When you reach the knuckle, you gasp and he exhales. 
It’s perfect.
He scoots back until he can lay on his stomach and place his cheek against your thigh. Close. Close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your hand.
And he watches. Happy. A lazy smile on those beautiful, pink lips. Lashes fluttering every time you whimper or whine.
“I…I can’t,” you whisper. The sensations are too strong. You’ve already cum once, you can’t possibly cum again so soon.
He hums. “Yes, you can. Let me see, baby. Let me watch.”
And you almost want to be embarrassed but something else seems to take over your mind entirely and you can’t help but go faster.
You pinch and curl and flex. You push his offering as far into you as you can reach and then you push in a little more. And it’s easier this time, even if it almost hurts. But you cum. You do, right in front of his very eyes until he’s quickly grabbing hold of you as though he’s desperate to be closer.
You’re more than a puddle this time. You’re practically limp but you’re also so incredibly happy. And he smiles brightly as he pulls your fingers away and puts them in his mouth.
You don’t even have the energy to make a noise this time. You merely watch him—content—until he starts kissing down your palm, along your arm, and to your chest.
Then, he pulls you into his embrace and you both indulge in a moment of peace. 
You’re both quiet for a while. Even after your heartbeat has steadied. Even after the sweat on your skin has dried and the room no longer feels so warm. 
You run your fingers down his torso. Along the dips and curves of his muscles that seem more defined every time you see him. 
“You’re insufferable,” you finally say and he laughs. The sound bounces between the walls of your room—joyous and unencumbered—and it makes you giddy. He doesn’t laugh like this for her. “What? You are.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Another beat. Longer.
Then, you whisper, “Okay.”
He looks down. “Okay?”
“I’ll agree to your deal.”
“Really?” He’s grinning again. Big.
“Mhm. As long as I get to keep you in some way…maybe it’ll be worth it.”
He seems to sadden at the use of the word maybe, but he brushes it off before you can comment on it. Instead, he pulls you closer and kisses you hard. Forever. 
And maybe…this won’t be so bad.
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Previous Part:
~ Insatiable You* (Pt. 2)
~ Full Infinite You Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921
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gurugirl · 4 months
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Homewrecker | bfd!harry
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best friends dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship
Summary: The one where you and Harry finally come clean to everyone. Featuring an angry Fae, a spiteful soon-to-be ex wife, divorce terms, and lots of tears.
Word Count: 7360
Warning: 18+ only, mature content, age gap, talk of divorce, cheating, angst
Best Friend's Dad!harry Masterlist
You were tense.
And it wasn’t just that. It was that you could tell Harry was tense too. He was quiet. It made you nervous. Made you wonder if he was regretting his decision. He was loving when you’d first boarded the plane. But once it landed, he hardly looked at you. You were dropped off at your apartment by a taxi but were surprised when Harry asked the driver to wait. He helped you bring your suitcase up to your door and gave you a quick kiss before telling you he was going to have the taxi drop him off at his house so he could get his car. He told you he’d be back at your place in a couple of hours but he wouldn’t tell you where he was going. You weren’t sure he’d really come back.
You felt sick. You felt terrified you were losing him. But of course, you never deserved him in the first place. He was happily married with a great career and a beautiful daughter with a good head on her shoulders. Life was good for him. And would have been for years to come. If it hadn’t been for you. You were a homewrecker.
You didn’t have the energy to unpack your suitcase so you sat down and took a deep breath as you dared to look through all your messages and listen to the voicemails. You had envisioned checking your messages with Harry by your side, comforting you and you comforting him, but since he wasn’t there you did it alone.
The progression of anger from Fae was easy to see. She first left a voicemail and she sounded more concerned than angry at that point. She was calm.
Then it was a text. And another that could be read as mad. Then the one you read at the airport where you knew without a doubt that she was upset. And then to her last series of text messages sent Saturday morning.
Your silence is telling. So is his. I can’t believe either of you would do this. I hope I’m wrong. I’m hoping this is all a mistake and that it’s a coincidence that you and my dad have gone AWOL at the same time. But if this turns out to be real, Y/n? I don’t think I could ever speak to you or my dad again. I know you’d feel the same if I did this to you.
You sat your phone down and stared at your TV that you hadn’t turned on yet. It was impossible to process what you’d just read. It was shocking. You knew it was coming but to see it in a text was jarring.
It took you a few minutes to lift your phone up and listen to your mother’s voicemail.
Hey honey. I got a call from Fae and she’s really concerned about you and… her dad? She said she needs to get a hold of you. Will you call her when you get this? Or have Harry call her?
And, Y/n, I just want to say too, that no matter what, honey. I love you. You can always reach out to me if you need help or want to talk. Your father and I won’t judge you even if it’s true. I love you. Call me after you call Fae.
Closing your eyes you lay down on your side. Your mother even knew. Fae must have called her and told her everything. It hurt. But it was deserved. You deserved the hurt and shame. You’d done some very bad things. Your mother knowing was the least of your problems. Your biggest problem was that you were a homewrecker. You’d damaged a family because you were selfish.
You hit the call button and put your phone to your ear, keeping your eyes closed.
“Y/n. I was starting to get worried. Are you okay?” Your mother’s words were rushed.
“I’m fine, Mom. I’m so sorry about this. I would have called you sooner but I was trying to avoid my phone for a couple of days.”
“What are you avoiding, Y/n? Is it true? You and Fae’s dad?”
You swallowed thickly, “Yeah. It’s true.”
The line was silent for a moment. You waited to let your mom respond when she was ready. It was a lot to hear. You understood her silence.
“Okay. Well… you know I love you, honey. I hope you know what you’re doing. You’re an adult so you get to make these decisions and I trust that you never meant to hurt anyone.”
“Of course not. I never thought,” you felt a tear slip down your cheek, “… that this would happen. It was never meant to get this far. But,” you pushed yourself up to sit, “I fell in love. And now it’s too late. And we have to face the music. And,” you sniffled as you pulled your phone out to look at the time and then put it back to your ear, “I don’t even know where Harry is right now so it all feels like it’s about to just explode on us–“
“Y/n, do you want me to come over?”
You shook your head, “No. No, that’s okay. I’m sorry. This is just so hard.”
At that moment your front door opened and you stood up to see Harry walking in.
“Mom, I’ll call you back, okay? I love you,” you hung up after your mom told you she loved you too.
You tossed your phone on the couch and stepped toward Harry quietly, unsure of how he was feeling. Unsure of how to approach.
Harry took one long stride toward you and wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. You draped your arms around his middle and just let him squeeze. You were glad he’d come back so soon. You thought he was going to be gone for at least another hour. You also thought it was possible he wouldn’t return.
He loosened his embrace and kissed the top of your head, “I didn’t like how it felt to be away from you. I just needed to go and drive. I don’t really know why. I started to panic,” he spoke quietly as you listened, “When I was dropped off at the house I got into my car and the further away I drove the further away from you I felt and I didn’t like that. I had to turn around and drive back to you.”
You tilted your head back to look up at him, “Are you having second thoughts? Do you regret this?”
Harry brought his hands up to your face and looked down at you intently, “God, baby, no. When I got into that taxi I wasn’t even really thinking. I don’t know why I did it that way, leaving like that. I just… I didn’t mean for it to seem like I needed to be away from you. I don’t want that at all.”
You nodded and it felt like relief to hear him say that. “I was worried. Thought you’d suddenly realized this was a big mistake and you couldn’t go through with it anymore.”
He rocked you softly, stepping from foot to foot to sway, “Absolutely not. It’s me and you, baby.”
“We should text them back. Let them know something. Maybe we can go to them? Tell them everything? I just want to get this over with now, Harry.” You couldn’t handle being secretive with Fae or anyone anymore. You knew this was going to happen one way or another and if you could just finally say it then maybe the worst would be over.
He sighed and let go of you, keeping your hands in his, “Okay. We’ll let them decide when it happens. But I’ll text Fae and her mother.”
You both sat in silence on your couch as you individually texted Fae. Harry texted his wife first.
You didn’t know how to word the text. But you settled on something simple.
I’m so sorry. I feel awful. I want to talk to you, though, whenever you’re ready.
Harry’s phone rang after he sent his first text and he looked at you with worry before holding the phone up to his ear.
“Hello?”
You watched him stand up and pace in silence as he listened to his wife. He ran a hand through his hair and then suddenly stopped and looked down as he closed his eyes.
“Yes. I understand.”
He looked at you and gave you a weak smile. A sad smile and you returned the expression.
“No. Look… don’t say that. She’s not. I think if we can just talk in person this will be better.”
He shook his head and scowled as he began to pace again, “I said don’t say that about her,” his voice was more urgent. Almost angry.
Your phone dinged. Fae had responded.
I’m coming over.
Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at Harry. Your natural inclination was to tell him to leave because that had been the routine since the beginning. Hiding that he’d been with you. But now that everything was out in the open…
“Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow then... Yes. I know. I am sorry,” he looked at his screen and realized she’d hung up. “Fuck.” He spoke under his breath.
You stood up and cleared your throat, “Fae is coming over.”
Harry looked weary. He nodded and went into your kitchen and pulled down two glasses, “Water?” He asked without turning to look at you.
“Yes, please.”
You watched him fill the glasses with your water pitcher and then handed you a glass as he gulped down half of his in one go.
“We should think about how to tell her. She’ll be here soon.” You reiterated, keeping your distance. Everything felt so foreign. So strange.
Harry placed his glass down and looked at you for a moment before responding, “We’ll just tell her, Y/n. It’s not going to be good but we’ll be honest and tell her what we’ve done. It’s all we can do,” he pushed his hip from the counter and took your free hand, bringing it up to his chest, “I love you. Okay?”
You nodded, “I love you too, Harry.”
When you sat your glass down Harry bent at his knees and lifted you up to the counter and then fit himself in between your legs, putting his palms over your thighs, “I just need you with me, Y/n. Okay?”
You nodded and put your hands on Harry’s shoulders and pulled them around his neck to bring him in for a soft little kiss.
You two stayed like that until there was a knock at your door and Harry helped you down from your spot. He followed behind you as you pulled your door open to see Fae standing there. She looked behind you to her dad and then back at you. Her expression was unreadable.
“Come in.” You gestured to her and moved out of the doorway. She walked past you and her father and into your living room.
“So, it’s true. What the fuck?” She shook her head and looked between you and Harry.
“I’m so sorry this happened,” Harry spoke first. You could hear the small waver in his voice as if he were about to cry, which made you tear up instantly as you watched Fae’s face.
She sat down on the small bench near your records and looked directly at you, “I can’t believe you did this. To me and my mom? To him? Why?”
Oh shit. Here it was. You were being blamed for it all. As you should. You knew what you’d done was disgusting.
You moved to sit down on your couch, pulling your hand out of Harry’s. You needed to sit.
“I can’t believe I did it either. I don’t know why. I’m sorry!” You hiccupped as your tears fell. A pathetic girl. Harry sat next to you and you felt his warm hand on your back as you repeated that you were sorry.
“Mom didn’t deserve this,” Fae looked at her dad, “She’s been so good to us and to you. She was really blindsided by this you know? You hurt her. You cheated on her. I never would have taken you for a cheater.”
Your sniffles and harsh breaths were obnoxious. You didn’t deserve to be feeling sad for yourself. After all, you’d done all the hurting and now people were suffering because of you.
“I know, Fae. Your mother has been wonderful to us. I made a mistake and…” his hand moved up and down your back as he spoke, “I’m sorry this happened. I didn’t expect any of it. It just…” he took a breath, “It just happened and now I’m in love. We’re in love.”
Fae laughed sardonically and you looked at her. She hadn’t shed a single tear.
“Yeah right. Do you know how ridiculous you sound, Dad? In love? With her? She’s my age? What could you possibly have in common with Y/n? Do you two bond over talking about me? Because that’s your only link. Like… I don’t get it at all.”
“We just get along, Fae. Somethings can’t really be explained–“
“Oh, the fuck they can’t. You two had sex and now you think you’re in love. You’re both pathetic. Especially you, Y/n. You broke up a happy marriage because you were selfish and you outright lied to me–“
“Hey, this is my fault, Fae. I’m the one who–“
You put your hand on his knee, “No. Fae’s right. I’m pathetic. I’m a homewrecker. I deserve all of the blame.”
Fae stood up, “Oh the martyr. I see… Yes… Will it make you feel better to know how much I really hate you? Is that what you want? Well,” she laughed, “I’m not giving you that satisfaction. Oh no…” she paced in front of your coffee table as she looked from her father to you, “The part that hurts so much, and the part that I hope you take with you and that eats at you and keeps you up at night is that hating you hurts me. You were my best friend. You and I have done everything together. I trusted you and loved you like you were my sister. When my mom told me what she found out I told her it couldn’t be true. That you would never. I gave you a chance to come clean to me but you lied to my face. I won’t ever forgive you but that doesn’t mean that feels good. It hurts to hate you. You betrayed me.”
You sat in silence. In shame.
Fae pointed at Harry, “And you. You let this happen. Mom is broken. She’s absolutely torn up over this. You blindsided us both and you’re no longer my father.”
“Please, don’t say that Fae, I love you,” Harry stood up.
“Don’t come near me. I don’t want your apologies or your tears. I’m not giving you the chance to make amends or say your peace. I don’t want it,” she scoffed and looked up toward the ceiling to pull her tears back into her eyes. “Mom said this didn’t mean you were abandoning me. That you still love me,” she looked at him and stopped pacing, “I don’t care if you choose her or whatever,” she gestured toward you, “I don’t even want you as my father anymore. You make me sick. What you did is unforgivable. Even if you did leave her and beg me for another chance to be in my life I don’t want it. My life is better without you now that I know who you are.”
Harry sat down and put his head in his hands and began to cry. You could see his shoulders shaking as he let out a strangled sob.
She looked away from Harry and took a breath. You could see she was acting tough. You knew her well. You imagined that the moment she walked out of your apartment she’d finally allow herself to cry.
“You both deserve each other. I hope you have a miserable life together. Actually…” she looked at you, “I take that back. I hope he cheats on you and breaks your heart the way you broke mine. I hope that all this was a waste for both of you. That you don’t even wind up together in the end. Because that’s what you’re hoping for, isn’t it?”
Her glower was intense. Scary.
You opened your mouth, “Fae, I’m–“
“I don’t fucking want to hear it, Y/n. I just wanted to come over here so I could tell you in person how I feel about you,” she laughed and looked at Harry who was still trying to reign in his tears, “I actually didn’t think you’d be here. But I guess this makes it easier. So I only have to do this once.”
She picked up her purse and carried herself quickly to your door but you ran after her just as she stepped outside, “Fae, please! I never wanted to hurt anyone!”
She turned to look at you, tears glazing her eyes, “I know you didn’t. But you did anyway, and it was selfish. Just wait for your turn. He’ll find someone younger in a few years and you’ll be all alone.”
When she walked away you felt Harry’s hand on your shoulder and then his chest pressed to your back as he pulled you into him. You both watched until Fae was out of sight and wondered if that would be it. Wondered if she’d ever come around or if maybe she was right.
He was warm against you. Comforting. “Baby you know she’s just speaking out of anger because she’s hurt. I’m not leaving you. That’s never gonna happen.”
You swallowed and nodded as he spoke quietly into your ear. Surely she was speaking out of anger to hurt you because she was hurt. You could see that. And that was deserved. You should hurt. But part of what she said did strike something in you. Because he’d left his own wife for you. For someone younger. And he probably never imagined he’d cheat on his wife just like at that moment you figured he never imagined he’d leave you either.
“You believe me, right, Y/n?”
You nodded shallowly.
Harry let out a deep breath as he pulled you gently back inside your apartment and turned you to face himself. His eyes were red and his face was splotchy from crying, “Look at me,” he cupped your face softly, “I’m mad for you. I swear on everything,” he ran his thumb under your right eye where a new tear fell, “I’ll never leave you. I love you. This is different, Y/n. God, I never want you to feel that way.”
It wasn’t like you wanted to leave him so you wouldn’t and if he broke your heart eventually, well you also deserved that. Especially after everything you’d done to Fae and her mother…
Harry’s nose touched yours, “Please, Y/n. I can tell you’re upset about what she said. I need to know you trust me and that we’re okay.”
You lifted your arms to wrap around his middle and looked at him, “Whatever happens I’m not going anywhere. I just…” you blinked and grasped the material of his shirt tight, “I fucked up big time. We did. I wasn’t prepared to hear her say any of that. I knew she’d be upset. I feel like this is what I deserve. None of this is okay.”
Harry cradled the back of your head and pressed his forehead into yours gently, “I fucked up, Y/n. I did that. I know what’s been done isn’t good… but you and I can be okay. Being with you is like nothing I’ve ever had. I’ll do everything I can to prove to you how much I love you and how much I want you every day if you need it.”
You tilted your head back and moved to kiss him, pushing your lips against his. You didn’t want him feeling like he’d lost you too. You just needed to sort out your thoughts and it was hard to verbalize everything in that moment.
Harry and Fae’s mother had planned to meet at their house in the morning. He was already making a list of things he’d be packing and bringing to your apartment, knowing she’d be taking the house, “Are you sure it’s okay if I bring all this? I can get a storage unit or something.”
You stood behind him and looked down at his laptop screen. He was sitting at your small kitchen table as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “It’s fine, Harry. We’ll figure out everything later. We should get some sleep. It’ll be an early morning and we want to go in with clear minds.” Harry turned to look at you as he placed a hand over your forearm, “Baby, I really think it should just be me there. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”
You moved and pulled a chair up next to him so you could look at him directly, “I really think I should be there with you. At least for support, Harry. I’m an adult. I can handle it. I don’t want you having to do it alone.”
He shook his head and took your hands in his, “Y/n, it’s going to go a whole lot better if you’re not there. She’s not going to want to see you. That’ll just make her angrier. I’m asking you to please stay here while I sort out everything with her.”
Harry had told you right at the beginning that he was going but you insisted you wanted to be there too. To face his wife and be his support.
“Harry…” you said his name in a plea.
He dipped in and kissed you, “I love you so much. But I need to do this part by myself. Okay? I love that you want to help and be there with me and you don’t know how much that means to me. But this is different. I can’t bring you with me for this. You can be my comfort and support when I get back afterward.”
You figured you didn’t have much of a choice. But you hated to have Harry go it alone. If you thought dealing with Fae was devastating, you couldn’t imagine the scene with her mother. The woman whose heart he broke. Who he cheated on.
Harry held you close that night as you softly caressed his chest and kissed his shoulders and pecs. Sleep didn’t really find either of you for long enough to feel like you’d rested. You had bursts of shut-eye but then were woken up with a panicky feeling. And it was the same for Harry. But being together and feeling the warmth of one another felt a lot better than waking up alone.
And you both were wide awake at 5 am, cuddled together under your blankets, limbs tangled.
“Are you awake?” You whispered as softly as possible. You assumed he was because of his breathing pattern and the way he shifted every now and then.
“I am. Are you okay, baby?” He scooted in closer and pulled you into his chest so you were practically laying on him.
You couldn’t see his face in the dark but you smiled at how he always seemed to need you close.
“I’m okay. I’m here with you so I’m okay.” You laid your head against his chest and he cradled the back of your head. You could feel the slow rhythm of his heart.
“Want some coffee? Thinking of getting up to make some. Not sure I can sleep. Have to be up in an hour anyway.”
Coffee at 5:15 am was not your thing but for Harry, you’d do it. And it was also going to be impossible for you to sleep as well. You were full of nerves and wondering what was next.
You had to work that afternoon, unfortunately. You wanted to call off but you were worried about losing your job. You took Saturday off when you were scheduled to work and doing it again on Monday would be risking too much.
“So what? If you lose your job you can look for something else. Maybe there’s a good job in advertising or marketing or something. Use your degree, Y/n. I can take care of you until you find something.”
You shook your head, “You don’t think I’ve been looking? For a year I’ve been putting in resumes and the only few spots that would even consider me without any experience wouldn’t pay as well as the tips I make at the restaurant. It’s hard to transition from making really good tips to a salaried job that pays less where I might work more hours.”
“I know you’ve been looking, baby. I’m not saying you haven’t. I’m just saying I’ll take care of you until you find something perfect.”
“I don’t want to have you taking care of me, though. That’s not fair. We’ve already been through a lot. And just imagine what everyone would think… If I quit my job after everyone finds out we’ve been having an affair and you pay all my bills... I’ll not only be a homewrecker I’ll be a gold digger or something. One awful scorn on me is quite enough,” you chuckled. But it wasn’t actually funny. You tried to find humor in the situation but the reality of it was awful.
“We can’t help what people will think of us but we’ll talk about all this later. I don’t want you to worry. Okay?”
“You think you’ll be back before I need to leave for work?” You ran your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. It was getting long and his curls were just begging to be touched.
Harry nodded, “I think so. I hope so. If not, I’ll be here waiting for you when you get off. I’ve got some stuff to do at the office today as well but shouldn’t take long. And I’ve got your key,” he grinned at you.
Harry left after giving you a smoldering kiss. You two hadn’t been intimate since the morning before when you left Quebec and when he grabbed you and spun you around to kiss you goodbye you pulled him in by his collar to keep his mouth against yours, then he had his arms around your back and you both had to force yourselves apart so he could go.
And on any normal day, you’d climb back into bed to sleep for a few more hours. But you knew you couldn’t sleep. So, you had to find something to keep you occupied while Harry told his wife everything.
.           .           .
When Harry pulled into the driveway his wife’s car was there already. He took a few deep breaths. He knew it was not going to be pretty.
The house smelled of coffee when he opened the door. It almost felt comforting. Familiar. Except that the circumstances were anything but.
He called to his wife as he sat his briefcase down on the couch and moved into the kitchen where he found her on her cell phone speaking to someone. She glanced at him and turned her back.
Harry noticed right away that she looked sad. Her face was puffy and her skin looked sallow.
The pot of coffee was full but he couldn’t even think of putting anything else into his stomach at that moment. The acid in the coffee was already making him feel a bit unwell. Not just the acid. But he felt unwell for what was about to come.
He sat at the kitchen table and silently inhaled again.
“Well, he’s here now, so I’ll let you go. I’ll call you later, okay?” He heard only the last part of her conversation as she hung up and kept her back to him. He watched her look out the window over the sink into their backyard in silence.
“I think you should start, Harry. Start with how long you’ve been seeing her. How it happened,” she turned to look at him but stayed near the counter.
He nodded and looked down at his hands, “6 months, give or take.” He looked up at her and her fierce gaze could have sliced him in half.
She waved her hand, “Go on. Let’s get it out.”
He swallowed, “I don’t know why I did it. I was happy. Really, I was. I… she and I got close and then I went to her place and that’s how it started.”
“So you instigated?”
Nodding his head he looked at his wife, “I did. I knew she had a crush on me and I fed into it.”
She nodded and walked toward him to sit at the table across from him.
“And it wasn’t supposed to go that far. But I’ve found myself falling for her.”
The laugh from his wife was unexpected. Harry watched as she shook her head in disbelief, “You’ve fallen for her? Y/n? Who is the same age as your daughter? Oh, I bet that’s an interesting dynamic. Does she know you fucked me while you were fucking her?”
He clenched his jaw and felt like he’d throw up, “We didn’t really talk about that much at the beginning. I’m sure she knows.”
“Caressa told me she saw you drop her off. Y/n, the stupid thing, told her you were her boyfriend.”
“Hey. Stop. Don’t do that. Don’t call her stupid. She’s no–“
“What? You don’t like it when women are being a little immature? You are dating a woman half your age for Christ’s sake. Seems like something you’d be into.”
Harry folded his lips into his mouth to keep himself quiet. He’d have to deal with her being a little petty. She had every right to lash out.
“Anyway, I was quite shocked to learn of it. And at first, we thought there was no way. Caressa might have seen someone else that looked like you with a car like yours. But then… too many coincidences, you know? Plus I’d already suspected you were cheating.”
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Why? Why would you do this to us? Was it that bad?”
Harry shook his head and reached for his wife’s hand but she pulled away before he could touch her, “No. Of course not. You’ve been incredible. I got selfish and fucked up. And then I got in too deep.” He moved his hand back into his lap.
She nodded, “You did fuck up. That’s true. How many other women have you cheated on me with?”
Harry was taken aback, “None! Oh my god, no. I never… this is the only time.”
“I see. And of all people, it had to be her? Fae’s best friend, Harry?”
“I know. It’s so messy.”
“Have you had a thing for her since she was a teenager?”
He shook his head, “No. Fae’s 22nd birthday was the first time I really found her attractive.”
She looked to the corner of the room as she sipped her coffee and then pinned her eyes back on Harry, “So for 2 1/2, nearly 3 years you’ve been lusting after Fae’s best friend?”
“No. I found her attractive… but never…” he took a breath, “No it was only recent.”
That was a lie. He had actually been lusting after you for that length of time. Of course, the feelings grew as you got closer and spent time together alone. When you would visit him and you’d chat and have lengthy hugs in private… even though the actual affair had only been for 6 months, you both had been dancing around your feelings for much longer. But he didn’t want his wife to know that. Didn’t feel that was necessary information.
“My terms for the divorce are simple. I’ll keep the house but you’ll pay the mortgage and insurance, and repairs that might come up. Once the house is paid off it’ll be in my name and I’ll be able to sell it or keep it, my choice. I’ll keep my car, which you’ll also pay the insurance for, and I’ll be asking for 50% of your salary as alimony. I also expect 50% of any of your bonuses. You’ll pay for my health insurance and cover anything I need above the copay. Dental too,” she took another sip of her coffee as she kept her eyes on Harry, “You’ll cover my cellphone, internet… basically all of my bills like you do currently. I am not going to suffer and live a more difficult lifestyle because you and Y/n want to fuck around and play pretend. Understood?”
Harry nodded. He knew he’d be giving a lot to his wife.
“Our shared brokerage, savings, and retirement will be 100% mine–“
Harry put his hand up, “Now, wait. Hold on. I can give you most of it but not all. Come on. Be reasonable.”
She shook her head, “The moment you stuck your prick in someone else was the moment I lost my ability to be reasonable with you. It’s mine. And I guarantee that the judge will agree once we get to the nitty-gritty. I’ve looked into it. You’ve cheated on me and I’ve been a supportive wife who also contributed to our savings and retirement during all the years I worked.”
His brokerage account was worth millions. And while his wife had contributed to savings and retirement years ago when she was still working, all the money and earnings from the brokerage were his own. He put that money there, not her.
“I don’t think that’s fair. You didn’t put a dime into the brokerage account. I’ll give you all of our savings, half the retirement, and half of the brokerage. That’s more than enough for you for the rest of your life. Not to mention half my salary and bonuses, the house…”
“I don’t care what’s fair. And yeah, I could live a very comfortable life on half the brokerage and retirement alone but I don’t want you to live a comfortable life, see? I’m not here to make things comfortable for anyone but me and my daughter. You and Y/n can go to hell.”
Harry bit his tongue and looked down at the table. He would need to get a lawyer. 50% of everything plus extras was fine. But all of the brokerage and retirement?
“Well, we’ll figure out terms with lawyers present,” he looked at her as he spoke. It was the first time he’d felt so angry with her ever. And even if she was justified, it still felt unfair.
She laughed, “Yes, we will. In fact, I’m meeting with mine this afternoon to get all the paperwork ready for you to sign. Divorce papers are in the works. And since I’m the one filing first I get dibs. You’ll see.”
Harry stood up from the table and paced the kitchen slowly. He knew this would kill him financially but he somehow just didn’t expect she’d want all of his brokerage. That was his nest egg he’d been adding to since before he ever met his wife. It was his. He’d fight for that one.
“What time this afternoon?” He looked at her.
“2 pm. You aren’t invited. You’ll be all caught up with everything once we get the paperwork drafted. My lawyer will send everything to yours. Oh, which, by the way, you should send me your lawyer’s contact info.”
He didn’t have a lawyer at that moment, which in hindsight was dumb of him. He should have been more prepared for all of this. A lawyer was just more money down the drain. He’d be paying his own plus hers, he was sure of it.
“Fuck,” he spoke under his breath and ran his hands over his face.
Harry packed his things into his car and gathered items he planned to take with him. Of course, his wife watched everything he took and told him what he could and couldn’t take.
“But this was a gift from Fae. Let me at least have this,” he pleaded. It was a framed photo of Fae and Harry. The frame was homemade from Fae for Father’s Day when she was 11. He kept it in his office for all the years he had it.
“Fae doesn’t want you to have that. Leave it here.”
“You didn’t even know it was there. You probably forgot that it even existed. Come on, don’t do this.”
She didn’t budge.
Harry had expected the conversation with his wife to be much different. He thought there would be a lot of tears and apologies and that she would scream at him and throw a fit but she was calm and prepared. She was cold and uncaring, though she did throw an insult or two. He could tell she was upset and that she had been crying before he arrived but she did not act the way he thought she would.
It all took much longer than he hoped. You had already been at work by the time he dropped his things off at your apartment. His apartment now too. He told you he’d be paying his part and wanted to get on the lease. But he planned on paying the rent in full. He didn’t want to be a burden to you.
And before he went by his office at work he stopped at the restaurant to see you. He knew it might be a bad idea but he needed to see you. Just to look at you and tell you he loved you and make sure you were okay. He felt bad that he hadn’t come back before you’d left.
Caressa saw him first as he walked in and the hostess greeted him.
“Oh, Harry. How nice to see you,” she crossed her arms as she walked up to him, “I’m guessing you’re here to see your girlfriend?”
“Hi, Caressa. Uh, just here to see Y/n. I wanted to tell her something really quick. I won’t keep her long.” He felt himself flush in embarrassment. He wasn’t particularly close to Caressa but he’d known her for years. She and her husband were part of his friend group. Were. He was certain they wouldn’t be interested in hanging out with him again.
“Sure. She’s busy right now but have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
He waited for fifteen minutes before getting up and peeking into the dining room. He half doubted that Caressa told you he was there. She probably wanted to make a point or something.
When he spotted you walking away from a table he stepped in and called your name quietly.
You turned and your eyes widened in surprise but you smiled and mouthed “I’ll be right back.”
You hadn’t expected to see him show up at your work but the relief that washed over you was immense. You were so worried about Harry and wondered how the talk had gone with Fae’s mother. Hoped nothing had changed between you and him.
You quickly made your way to the front where Harry was and grabbed his hand into yours, “How did it go?”
He sighed and you could see it hadn’t been a good conversation just by his expression, “I’ll tell you later. But, she knows. Everyone knows now. She’s getting divorce paperwork ready,” he squeezed your hand, “I just wanted to see your face. Needed to see you.”
You smiled and quickly kissed his lips, “I’m glad you came in. I was really worried.”
“You don’t need to worry, baby. Ever. Okay? I love you. I just… couldn’t breathe until I saw you.”
That was all you needed. His reassurance. The rest of your shift felt lighter. You were still burdened by the reality and the heaviness of everything but at least he came to see you. At least he needed it as much as you did.
When you got home later Harry was there. He was only wearing his grey sweatpants and he was in the kitchen cooking something.
You placed your purse on the kitchen table and he turned around and sat the wooden spoon on the counter before he met you in the middle of the kitchen to bring you in for a hug.
He said nothing. He just held you for a moment and it felt regenerative to be in his arms. You melted a tiny bit into him and suddenly, without even meaning for it to happen you began to cry.
“Oh, honey…” he whispered as he pulled you into your living room to your couch. You sat down with him and he kept his arms around you.
You couldn’t stop the tears. You couldn’t really think much about your situation while you were at work or you’d have cried in front of your customers. And you definitely didn’t want Caressa to see you in tears. She knew too much already.
“Sorry,” you squeaked out your words against Harry’s chest. You loved that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and that your cheek was smushed into his skin.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay to cry. I’m here.”
Harry kissed the top of your head and spoke quietly, “Everything’s going to be okay.”
When you’d finally caught your breath and looked up at him, he smiled softly at your face with tear-stained cheeks, “Thank you for stopping in at work today. That made everything feel so much better.”
Harry took in your red puffy eyes and the way your lip quivered the slightest and sighed as he wiped your tears, “I needed to see you. I’m glad it made you feel better. How was your shift?”
You told him about work and how Caressa hardly spoke to you. Then you discovered that when Harry arrived she hadn’t told you that he was there when he asked her to, “Guess I’m not surprised. She probably hates us both. And what are you making? Smells really good.”
“Just veggie soup and I’ve got some biscuits cooling. Stove’s off so it can sit a bit. It’ll be fine.”
You looked around your living room and it was the first time you noticed the new big-screen TV that had replaced yours, as well as a plant in the corner that hadn’t been there, “So now we live together, huh?” You smiled finally, to Harry’s relief.
“If you still want me here then yes.”
You laughed and leaned back into him, hugging his middle, “Of course I want you here. Need you here.”
Harry put his arms around you, “S’what I wanted to hear. Need to be with you. No matter what that looks like.”
You looked up at him and his curls that were starting to get long and the bit of scruff on his face with his bright eyes and pink lips and you felt like you were lucky to have him. It wasn’t going to be easy to not have Fae in your life. And you would have to deal with the judgment that was to come, but at least you had him. At least you had each other.
“What?” Harry asked as your eyes wandered over his features.
“I just feel grateful that you’re here with me.”
Harry tilted his head to the side as he rubbed your arms up and down, his eyes on yours, “I’m grateful you want me here, Y/n.”
As shitty as everything was and the awful reality that was caging you in and carving the words homewrecker onto your forehead, you felt it in your heart that he was the love of your life. No one else could ever understand it. But Harry did. And you did. And that was all that mattered in that moment.
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ginevrapng · 6 months
Note
Can we get more bestfriend james stuff? Like how close is the reader towards the other marauders?
you're close to all of james' friends, especially the rest of the marauders and especially peter! you watch peter sometimes get left on the sidelines accidentally and you make a conscious effort to always and i mean always include him when talking to everyone and you ask his opinion on things. you and peter will share snacks and watch the others antics in the corner while grinning. you also share a lot of classes together so whenever possible you sit next to each other. you appreciate how peter doesn't always ask questions about you and james, he hasn't ever.
you can't say the same for sirius though. you have a suspicion that remus thinks your feelings towards james are less than platonic, and he does have that suspicion although he keeps hush but he does join in with everyone else when they tease you after they hear you call james 'jamie'. sirius questions your relationship especially when you first met him and it bugged you greatly. now he doesn't ask questions and just accepts your 'weird friendship'.
one night after james and sirius got out of detention they saw you in the gryffindor common rooms sitting next to remus and peter, which wasn't abnormal in the slightest although when james spotted you sitting far to close to peter his eyes hardened and he gritted his teeth because you shouldn't be sitting close to peter, it's peter of all people. he's your best friend so what are you doing all close to peter like that for. sirius could tell something was off, "you alright prongs?"
he brushes him off and tells him he's fine and goes to you all. "peter budge up." peter obliges and creates space for him to sit while everyone watches the interaction.
"jamie don't be rude."
"i wasn't being rude was i wormtail?" he turns to peter.
"you could of sat across from us," you reply. james chooses to ignore this. remus goes to ask sirius how detention with mcgonagall went, trying to ignore the interaction after realising james is going to be like this for awhile, sirius isn't paying attention to him in the slightest but instead watching you and james.
"whose jumper is that? it's not yours?" he says after spotting what you're wearing.
"oh, it's peter's. i was cold so he gave it to me."
"why?"
"what do you mean why? i was cold." you start getting irritated at this point, you don't know why james is asking these pointless, stupid questions and you don't know why he's made such a fuss out of nothing.
he was about to ask if there's something going on between you two but you stand up to leave. james has had dentition for the last 5 days and you miss cuddling up to him at night while chatting but now he comes in and annoys you.
before you can walk away or make an excuse to leave james is clinging onto your arm. "sorry, don't know why i acted like that." he pulls you down towards him so you're practically on his lap and wraps his arm around you. you quickly forgive him for his harsh attitude but makes him apologise to peter for being rude and asking him to move in a 'nasty' way.
peter accepts the apology, and sirius grins, only you would be able to get james to apologise for something so minor. sirius finally answers remus about detention and everyone gets comfortable and gets back to what they were doing. james holds you tighter when you start your conversation back up with peter and he holds you throughout the night until you end up falling asleep on him.
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halucynator · 7 months
Note
Hi can I get a imagine about Theodore Nott?
Okay so reader and (duh!) theodore are partners in potion’s class. Both slytherin. They are making the potion Amortentia (see where I’m going with this?), they sniff it, and then challenge the other to drink it making them infatuated with each other. Reader already has feelings for Theo since second year but never knew theo felt the same but since he’s a guy and guys act macho and tough, he pretends the feelings are only because of the potion towards their friends (only Pansy (our bff!) knows about our feelings towards Theo). Ending it with a confession of feelings and a truck load of smut?
If you don’t do smut, a fluffy ending please
Amortentia
Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, angst, confessions, shouting (like barely)
A/n: first of all, thanks for the request, I love it! Sorry this was so late x I kinda forgot about the fact that I finished it because I thought I posted it so sorry xx I also didn't give it a smutty ending (sorry!) Because I suck at writing smut. My reason before used to be bc I was uncomfortable but idrgaf anymore. It's just cause I suck at it and dont wanna disappoint you xx hope you like it 🩷
Also to all the other people who requested: I see your request xx I'm going to take some time to write it to do it justice xx
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You stumbled into Snape's potion class, knowing you were late. In your defense... you had none.
You sat down next to Theo, your good friend, after being told off by Snape.
"Today we'll be making amortentia. Can anyone tell me what an amortentia potion is?" Snape directed the question to the class.
Hermione raised her hand. Of course she did. Snape nodded towards her, gesturing her to continue.
"It's one of the strongest love potions rumoured to smell differently for each person." She answered.
"Correct. Now to make this potion you're going to need the following ingredients." Snape went on about the ingredients. After a while, he finally told you to make it.
As you stirred the potion, the smell of white musk, violets and faint smoke enveloped your senses. The smell of... Theo.
"God you definitely did not cut back on your vanilla perfume today y/n." Theo stated.
You just stared at him waiting for him to realise.
"There's no way!" Theo said as he realised.
"Only one way to find out." You said.
He raised an eyebrow as a gesture to continue.
"Drink it." You say.
"What?"
"drink it." You repeat.
"if I drink it, you will have to too."
"okay, deal."
You knew you would regret it but it was already too late as you had already gulped down the potion.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙***•̩̩͙
The next few hours were... traumatising (to say the least) for your friends.
Around other people you could pretend you were only flirting with Theo because you drank the potion. Other people except Pansy.
Pansy knew you liked him. Well, in your defense you never really told her. She was your best friend and you were going to eventually tell her but she guessed even before you could.
With the potion, you couldn't tell if Theo actually liked you or was just pretending. That's what he told all his friends. But in all fairness, so did you and that didn't necessarily mean it was true. He said he was infatuated with you because of the potion but you so desperately hopes he actually liked you. And the stupid potion wasn't helping.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙***•̩̩͙
"You need to tell him!" Pansy said as you walked around her room telling her how you're ere contemplating if he liked you or not.
"What if he rejects me?" You ask, worried.
"Pfft have you seen him? He is so in love with you." She says.
"It could just be the potion!" You stated.
"You don't get it, do you? I mean before he drank it. He acted love struck then as well!" She said.
"What? No he didn't. He had a girlfriend at that time. And he wa making out with her. And doing... other stuff." You said disgusted.
"Guys tend to try and impress the person they like. He literally acted tough around you. All the time." Pansy said.
"I guess there's only one way to find out." You stated sighing as you gave in.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙***•̩̩͙
You marched into the common room with Pansy write behind you making sure you don't change your mind.
"Theo can I talk to you?" You ask politely.
"Uh, yeah." He said.
As you walked out with him you just kinda said it.
"I like you. I've liked you for ages and it's okay if you don't like me back. You aren't inclined to. I smelled you in the potion and I never told you and I just felt that if I told you it would ruin our friendship and I didn't-" your words were cut short as Theo placed his lips against yours.
"Did you kiss me to get me to shut up? Wise choice." You said as you pulled away.
"Yeah that's one reason." He said giggling.
"What's the other reason?" You asked.
"Why do people usually kiss?" He answered you with a question.
"I know I just wanted to hear you say it." You said blushing slightly.
"I like you too." He said genuinely meaning it. You knew that wasn't the potion.
"Now can I kiss you again?" He asked.
"I'd like that very much." You said.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙***•̩̩͙
Thanks for reading! This was on the back burner for a while and I kinda forgot about it bc I thought I posted it so sorry about that xx hope you liked it 💖
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eveningepiphany · 1 year
Text
far from sober | H.S
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my masterlist
part II
summary: you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.
warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk people (including close family members), fluff, sexual tension, brothers best friend, drunk crying lol
a/n: sorry I haven’t posted properly in a while! here’s a shorter piece while I work on some more stuff <3 plenty to come x
———
Saying you were a bit drunk was a drastic understatement.
You were stumbling all over the place, heels becoming impractical now you were so intoxicated.
Harry, who knew you were going out with some of your family and friends tonight at the bar, had no idea what he was coming back to.
You don’t remember actually intending to get this drunk, but your Aunty had been egging the group on to do some shots, and before you know it you’re well past tipsy. Even your mum was getting drunker than you’d seen in years.
So all the other boys who’d gone out— including Harry— walk into the hotel bar. It was as chic as the lobby, just adorning some more neon signs and rustic bar stools.
Harry had gone out with them to look at a heap of shit that you and your female family members had little interest in. They’d insisted you all stay and just have a couple cocktails, since it was a holiday after all.
It was to their surprise when your same eager aunt bounded up to them when they popped through the door to the bar. They had expected tipsy, but not hammered.
“Oh my god!! You guys will not believe how good the cocktails are here!” She swooned, and they all glanced at each other with an amused chuckle.
“I think I just might believe it.” One of the boys piped up.
Most of them dispersed to find their significant others, family or friends amidst the bar, and see how much chaos was being caused.
But you’d b-lined straight for Harry, regardless of whether he was seeking you out.
His brows shot up when you collided with his side, “Harry!”
Your arms wrap around his middle and you end up latching onto him, practically using him to keep yourself upright.
“Oh!” He speaks in surprise, hands jumping up to brace around your lower back.
“Are you absolutely hammered too, love?” He chuckles and you bury your face into his chest.
“Yeaaaaa…” you drawl, a smile spreading onto your face.
“Everyone else is rounding up their partners. Suppose I’m in charge of you, yea?” He suggests, rubbing your back.
“Wanna—“ you hiccup, “have a drink with me?”
He shakes his head with amusement, “I think you’ve had plenty, sweetheart. We should get you back to your room.”
Most of your drunk family were getting escorted out by their respective people, being taken up to their hotel room before they can drink themselves any sillier.
This included your brother, Leon, who had his longtime girlfriend pulled into his side, holding her half up and laughing a little at her drunken slur.
He came to a stop when he seen both of you, eyes flitting between your two figures. A small twitch of his brows suggested he wasn’t sure of how he felt about the sight.
“You got her?” He asks, a protective edge to his voice. One that drunken you missed easily as you stayed plastered against him— which is something sober you would not do in general, let alone in front of your brother.
Harry nodded straight away, understanding his defensiveness over you since he feels the same about Gemma. He said softly, “Of course, I’ve got her mate. I’ll take her up to her room.”
Leon glanced at you again. Harry and him met when they were 9, and they’ve been best friends since then. He trusts Harry with his own life, and knows he’d never ever do anything that would hurt you, but his protective side is still flaring up.
Only when his girlfriend, Brie, complains of feeling nauseous he curtly nods, and continues heading for the door.
You are again, oblivious to all this, running your fingers along the tattoos exposed on his forearm— his sleeves rolled up to his elbows— putting his gorgeous skin out on display for you.
“I loveee your arms.” You slur, and his eyes shoot from the door back down to you.
He rarely sees you this drunk, and you’re suddenly very close— making comments that for many reasons are bringing a flush to his face.
“Y/N, Jesus you’re hammered.” He shakes his head, still smiling.
He slowly starts walking, “Cmon, let’s go. Y’brother is expecting me to get you back to your room in one piece.”
“You definitely won’t have a drink with me?” You whine, taking a few steps backwards trying to tug him in the direction of the bar instead of the door.
“Nope. Maybe tomorrow if you can even stomach alcohol.” He pushes the doors from the dimly lit bar open, and leads you into the back of the lobby that it’s connected to.
You squint at the dramatic change in lighting, which is hardly helping your sense of perception, or lack thereof, from the alcohol.
Harry’s hand has taken yours though, leading you to an elevator.
You noticed how warm it was, smooth against yours, aside from the rougher pads of his fingers from the years of playing guitar.
Being so off it, you could not keep that thought to yourself.
“Your hands are so soft, H. Like silk.” You say as you walk into the first elevator to open, squeezing his hand.
“First time anyone’s ever told me they feel like silk. I’m flattered.” He smiles, squeezing back.
“what floor are y’on, by the way? D’ya even remember— or are we a bit too wasted for numbers?” A teasing lilt is in his voice.
You half-laugh half-hiccup, “it’s… 7…?”
“You hardly sound certain about that.” He nudges you with a laugh, “It’s 12, we’re on the same one, remember.”
You laugh much harder than any sober person would, which makes it funnier to him. Since it was a mediocre joke at best.
You’re still laughing as you touch his chest with your palm, “you’re not funny.”
His gaze travels down to it, and he’s shocked at how touchy you are. You never do shit like this when you’re sober. His own amusement quickly takes the back seat, even though you’re still giggling.
However your face falls shortly after, laced with a curious gaze as you slide the neck of his long sleeve to the side, in search for the swallows inked onto his collar bones.
He watches as your eyes wander the small expanse of skin there, and how your fingers brush the tattoos.
“Having fun?” He asks, trying to joke again, but really he’s undeniably a little worked up.
“Yah, heaps.” You snap your gaze back up to him as you enthusiastically nod.
He hates the fact he’s blushing so hard right now over this, since you’re drunk and not completely in control, but he at the end of the day is a man with a very pretty girl— which happened to be you— pulling at his top like she wants it off him.
You hum to yourself, “Have such a pretty neck.” And you trail your hand up it, running a finger over his adams apple.
The elevator door opens like a blessing, and he quickly moves to make distance between the two of you.
“Can you remember your room number, darling? That’s one thing I actually don’t know.” He looks to you as you follow him out with clumsy moments.
“Uh… I dunno— wait I think the keycard is in my purse.”
He laughs at this— wondering if it will come to you in time once you sober up.
“Fuckkk.” You groan. “My purse is in Molly’s big handbag.”
The groan soon turns into a whine, because drunk and being slightly inconvenienced is not a good pair.
“It’s ok!” He amends quickly, trying to keep from having a drunken meltdown on his hands, “We’ll just got back to mine, only if you’re comfortable?”
He quickly prepares for you to not want that, “otherwise— I’ll call her, she didn’t seem too wasted, I’m sure she can—“
He’s interrupted by you, “I don’t mind going back with you.”
You say it with a confused look on you face, a tiny pout on your lips.
“Why would I be uncomfortable going with you?”
“Because… well— I’m not sure. I just wanted to leave you with other options.”
It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone together before— you’ve actually spent plenty, but just never with you drunk.
And so touchy.
“No. It’s ok. I love being with you!” You chuckle.
He leads you down the hall, pulling the keycard from his back pocket once he reaches his room, 3313.
The door clicks open, and he holds it open for you, following you in shortly after.
You’re still unstable on your feet, and one look at those heels, he’s surprised you haven’t ended up on the floor in the last ten minutes
They’re practically a health and safety issue. He can not imagine you getting them off right now— which is exactly what you’re about to bend over and attempt.
Before you can throw off your centre of gravity, he quickly says, “Go sit on the bed.”
You glance back over your shoulder, face only lit by the light from the lamp in the corner of the room.
“That’s a little forward, don’t you think, Harry?”
He toes off his own shoes, shaking his head immediately at your drunken misconception of what he asked.
“So I can take your shoes off.”
You make the few steps left to the bed safely, and you sit at the edge of it, still giggling as you say, “just my shoes, huh?”
“Yes.” He walks over, kneeling down on one knee, pulling your heeled foot up onto the strength of his thigh.
He fiddles momentarily with the laced up string, warm hands splayed on your calf, and choosing to ignore the way your dress is riding up your thighs.
Christ. This is harder than he thought.
“I forget how hot you are sometimes.” You deadpan, and his jaw goes a little lax.
You’re usually playful, yes, but never do you breach into territory like this.
It was only others, like those at a family gathering, or your close friends, that would push to get stuff like that out of you like they were matchmakers.
There were many times that barbecues or some kind of event held at yours, Leon would invite Harry over. And if the two of you even interacted for just a second, someone in your family circle would tease you. Especially your own damn brother— it was a constant streamline of snarky comments from him.
“You are so drunk.” He mumble while pulling up your other foot.
You ignore his statement, thinking back to when he was a boy to now. He was cute— always was— but the way he looks now is just unmatchable.
“Have you always looked so… like… this?”
He chuckles, almost nervous, “what does question that even mean?”
“So pretty.” You clarify after a moment of trying to find the word.
“Ah, you’re only saying that because you’re plastered up the walls.” He laughs, and a dimple popped on his cheek, and your hand jumped into action before you could even think about it.
“Noooo, sober me thinks that too. She thinks you’re more than pretty.” You say, cupping his jaw, gently tracing the dimple that popped up.
He doesn’t know how to interpret any of this. His heart is jumping in his chest, and he’s trying to reason its genuinely just the alcohol in your system.
He holds eye contact as he slips off your other shoe, placing in neatly next to the other.
He stays there for a moment, unprepared for your next question.
“Can I kiss you?”
She’s drunk, she’s drunk, she’s drunk…
“You’re drunk, sweetheart.” He says, and it’s painful— because he wants to, so fucking bad, but you’re not in a state to consent to literally anything at the moment.
And especially not in the mind frame to be making decisions like this.
You lean forward anyway, before he has a chance to avoid it, managing to meet his lips on your own terms.
He caved for a brief flash of time, and allows a second for himself to feel it, no longer than that though. Just a mere moment to take in the warm, soft feeling of your lips on his. It takes so much strength for him to not kiss you back, he has to focus on the task at hand— sobering you up and getting you safely asleep.
He pulls back after that single moment, leaving his forehead against yours, “baby, I know, I really…” he cuts himself off.
A deep inhale and he stands up, “Not tonight. Cmon, let’s get you out of your dress. You can wear something of mine.”
He walks over to his suitcase, anything to remove you from his sight for a moment, to reset his thought process. He pulls out a tshirt and pair of gym shorts, hoping they won’t be too big on you.
Turning back around, he convinces himself he’s fine. Placing the clothes from his bag on the bed beside you, his hands come under your arms, helping you stand up on flat feet for the first time in hours.
You lean into the touch, turning around so he can undo the back of your dress.
The feeling of his fingers brushing your back have you going wild, and the way they gently slide the zipper of your dress down.
His eyes lock with the back of your lacy bralette and he chooses not to follow your skin any further down.
You use your hands to slip the straps off your shoulders— and very quickly the dress is pooling at your feet.
A shaky inhale passes through his nose as now you stand in just your underwear and a seemingly very pretty bralette.
He reaches and picks up his shirt from the foot of the bed.
“Do you want to… take this off before…?” He gestures to your bralette when he catches your eyes.
You nod, reaching behind you to undo the clasp and allowing it to slip from your shoulders to the floor.
Harry puts all his focus on getting the tshirt over your head to cover you up.
Once it’s over your whole frame, you can’t help but smile.
He’s so nervy and cute around you.
“Thanks, Harry.” You smile, suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of adoration for him hit you.
It inflated up in your chest, and bubbled deep into the pit of your stomach.
It killed Harry to watch it happen, and although he had no idea what kind of thoughts were going on in your head, just seeing you light up like that…
You wrapped your arms around his middle again, just like you did when you ran up to him in the bar.
He placed his hands in your hair this time, taking in your scent— which was mixing with his own now that your were in his shirt.
“Love, if you were sober right now. God.” He confesses.
“Im sober enough.” You beg, even though it’s such a lie.
He still shakes his head against you, “‘M not gonna be that guy, Y/N. I have waited years just to have you. I can wait another night. Or week. Or a whole ‘nother year if that’s what it takes.”
This hits you hard.
And it felt like your 15 year old self could hear it up in the confines of your head it rung through you that loudly.
She loved him then, more than she’d ever admit. And sure, you’ve grown up from 15, but yet never once did you grow out of him.
As noted earlier, being drunk and inconvenienced is not a good pair. But being drunk and having someone say or do something sentimental like that is another level.
Tears immediately start to fall from your eyes, and he feels your chest shake at the sudden outburst of emotion.
He pulls back, thinking he’s done something wrong, or said the wrong thing, and an apology was immediately on the tip of his tongue.
But relief thrums through him as you tug him right back into the hug, “that’s— that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“The nicest thing a boys ever told me.”
“Sweetheart.” He coos as you cry, his own voice wobbly with emotion.
He feels like he’s on a roller coaster. 5 minutes ago it seemed all he could think about was the unspeakable things wanted to do to you, and now he just wants to lay you down and hold you until you fall asleep.
He forgets the shorts on the foot of the bed, shuffling the two of you up to where the head of it is— which was still unmade from last night when he’d slept in it.
He tugs you into it, pulling you tightly too his chest as your heads hit the pillows.
And he just hugs you.
Eventually, your crying subsides off, and you enter an indescribably calm state.
“I love you. I don’t even know if you’re going to remember this in the morning.” He sighs, “but fuck, I love you.”
“I love you too, Harry.” You whisper, before your eyes begin to fall heavy, and those words were the last to leave your lips before you fell asleep.
———
PART II, found here
a/n pt2:
back again guys, hello!
this is like an extended a/n, but I have a lil update. I saw harry for the very first time live 3 weeks ago. it was so so incredible, and the experience was by far the best time of my life. I miss harry so much i just feel sick ugh. he is perfect. auslot was amazing, he absolutely gave us his all.
that’s why I’ve been so absent on here, literally coping with my pcd a day at a time. I’ve written heaps but nothing I’m 100% happy with haha.
but anyways I just thought I’d share, thank you so much for your continued support and know there is plenty in the works x
all my love, <3
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maraudersmyloves · 18 days
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/maraudersmyloves/743741615396569088/best-friendjames-who-loves-you-so-much-he-cant
this but add in a sprinkle (actually a lot) of angst and holy shit its perfect
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─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆。゚. ───
Pairing: Bestfriend!James Potter x reader
Warnings: Angst, requited unrequited feelings, me trying to write metaphors, not proofread
Word count: 838
Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!
"in love?". :☆。゚. ───
James has always known he loves you. Since the first time he laid his eyes on you, you've had a place in his heart. Moving in and getting comfortable in his ribcage. Sometimes he could swear you were trying to move out by the way his heart hurts whenever you give him a kiss on the cheek or make eye contact with him over the heads of the other students. But his greedy heart always pulled you back in holding you close and making sure you were comfortable. It's always been that way.
So, just like his heart, James makes sure to hold you close and give you all the affection in the world, making sure you'd never leave. He'll kiss and hug and cuddle you to make sure you know how loved you are.
He has never been really good at differentiating what kind of love he felt. His love dragged him along like he was surfing a never-ending wave without slowing down so he'd be able to tell whether it was salt or freshwater that was pulling him. That's why he was obsessing over Lily, it turns out he just found her incredibly cool and really wanted to be her friend.
Most people he's loved have helped him tell how he felt. Telling him how they felt.
The only problem, whenever you did, it felt wrong. Like you were lying without even noticing every time you told him he was your best friend. But he trusted you. So, if you said you were friends, you were friends. easy. simple. Except he can't help but differentiate you from the rest of his friends, but he's known you the longest so maybe it's that. No one else knows him quite like you. Sirius comes closest, but he's still light-years away.
If he's being honest he doesn't want to put too much thought into it, not wanting to get to a conclusion he (or worse, you) wouldn't like. He loves you, that's what counts. Right?
After years of being friends the mindset finally completely made sense to him, you're his best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. So, when people started asking him whether you two were dating he just wrote them off as never having loved someone as deeply as he loves you. He loves you like the ocean loves the shoreline, in the still, in the rage-filled waves and hurricanes, from afar and so close he can feel you. Whenever he's away for just a second, although it feels like an eternity to him, he comes back stronger, loving you harder and hugging you closer.
That's how it is. So, when other people don't understand why he hugs you from behind, burries his head in crook of your neck, squeezes your thighs, carries you around, and sleeps cuddled next to you it's because they don't love like he does.
Little does he know every touch pains you. You've confessed your love so much when you were sure he was sleeping you could swear he'd hear it in his dreams one day. You understood that while he loved you, he wasn't in love with you. You told yourself to accept it and move on, to just take a step back and realize how it's destroying you. But every time you're close to being able to leave he hugs you closer. It's as if he knows.
So, you stay.
You stay and watch him take out other girls. First a Blonde Ravenclaw, then a ginger Hufflepuff, two dates with a brunette Gryffindor, another Blonde Ravenclaw, and most recently a Slytherin girl with long, black hair. You know that he's a teenage boy and is going to want to say yes to some of his hundreds of offers to date. But, still, it hurts. He was too dear to be yours after all. He'd never fall in love with you. He told you himself
You remember meeting up so James could teach you how to skate but you ended up sitting around eating chips and talking about everything and nothing instead.
James started repeatedly hitting your shoulder trying to tell you what he was thinking with a mouthful of chips. He just ended up looking like an idiot. When he finally calmed down and swallowed he couldn't help but laugh, "D'you remember when everyone used to play 36 Questions, saying you would fall in love if you did it." You gasped, of course, you remembered. You were so close to asking him to play with you but you forgot for some reason. It really was a bit stupid, you can't make a person fall in love. You'd know, you tried.
"Yes, oh my god. What was that?" you asked while laughing.
"Right?? Like, i'm not gonna fall in love with you just because you ask me who i'd want to have dinner with."
He was laughing.
He was laughing so you laughed along. It's not like he said it directly but at his pointed look in your direction, you could tell what he meant. He was smiling. "Right?"
"Right."
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