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#angst harry
missmielyhoran · 1 year
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Denial
face calim- Lily James
Masterlist // Series Masterlist
[Warning- Angst, Cheating, smut but not written, crying, alcohol consumption, more crying, suicidal thoughts, people not knowing meaning of privacy, Hayden being a bitch]
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Y/Nupdates Y/N out with kids in London today getting ice cream.
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Harryfan1 Milf fr
Harryfan2 Where are the kids?
Y/Nfan1 They're cropped out. Harry and Y/N didn't want their faces to be public yet.
Y/Nfan3 Is it just me, or have you guys also noticed that Harry has not seen with kids for a long time
Harryfan3 Maybe he's busy with new album and stuff
Y/Nfan1 No me too
Y/Nfan2 @/Harryfan3 he was seen with his friends at pub few days ago
Harryfan5 Aww she bought flowers for Harry
*****
They say that when someone dies, their whole life flashes before their eyes. The good, the bad, all moments move in front of their eyes like a movie, that's how you felt when you opened the door of your bedroom.
A movie of your marriage dying.
You were going through your day like normal. Your shooting had ended early, so you decided to pick up the kids from school and take them out for ice cream. They were now standing in the kitchen. You could hear their muffled giggles while you stood upstairs in front of your room like a mannequin watching your husband scramble and quickly put on clothes.
"Fuck- Baby I can explain-" Harry tried to approach you, but you couldn't look at him or react to his words. Your eyes remained trained on the woman lying on the bed, on your bed. Sheets up to her chest, her head perched up on her arm while she looked straight in your eyes without any shame or remorse. Oh no, she had a smirk on her lips.
"Kids are downstairs," You motioned with your thumb downstairs, "I- I'm going to drop them off, and then we will..." You couldn't complete the sentence. You felt like your body was on autopilot as you went downstairs and ushered the kids back to the car, your and Harry's four years old daughter asking why she couldn't see her dad and what could you say?
"He has some important work to do. Why don't you guys have a sleepover at Elliott's tonight?" You asked them, putting all your acting skills out there to hide the waver in your voice. Elliot was your ex-boyfriend and father of your eldest son Emiel.
"Yayyy" Amie clapped her hands, excited to hang out with her best friend. Meanwhile, Emiel stayed silent and looked at his mom from the passenger seat. You knew he knew something was wrong, considering he was older and much more aware of his surroundings than your little girl.
You just sighed and kept driving to Elliott's house. Soon enough, they arrived at the familiar small cottage-esc house. You got out of the car and then unstrapped Amie from the seat belt. As soon as you put her down, Amie ran towards the door and knocked on it, being too short to reach the doorbell. Emiel laughed and picked her up so she could ring the bell.
Soon enough, Elliot was opening the door with the biggest smile on his face. "If it isn't my two favorite people," He exclaimed and pulled both of them in hugs. Behind him, his Fiancé laughed at his antics, and she smiled a bit, too.
"Mom said we're having a sleepover!" Amie screamed near Em's ear, making him groan. It's then Elliot looked up, his blue eyes met her tired ones, and he knew something was wrong considering they were friends for a long time.
"Em, why don't you take her inside with Bran?" He smiled at his son, and Bran took them inside, talking about something.
"Are you okay?" Elliot immediately asked, and you shook your head. Your brain was still too jummbled to speak or to cry or to be angry or even comprehend what had happened.
"Why don't you come inside for a second and drink some water? I fear you might pass out from the way you're looking so pale." He looked at you concerned, and before you could protest, Elliott pulled you inside.
You sat on the dinner table and looked out to the garden, finding Em holding Amie in his arms, her head on his shoulder. The tiredness of school and excitement finally caughting up to her and knocked her out.
You took your phone out and clicked a picture, them being the only hope she could grasp on at the moment.
Elliot didn't ask any questions. He understood that if you wanted to talk, you would. He just stood there as emotional support staring at their kids as you drank the water.
"I might need them to be here for a few days before I sort things out. I hope you don't mind." You asked Elliott, looking up at him sadly. "You hurt me, sucre. Of course I don't mind." He shook his head and pulled you in a hug.
*****
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Yourinstagram Mon chéri
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User1 Omg babiess
User2 That's Emiel? He has gotten so big
User3 I mean he's 13 now
User2 the small Gucci bag🥺she's soo like harry
annetwist Oh my sweet babies...miss you so much
Yourinstagram miss you too mom🥺
User4 still can't get over that she calls Anne mom😭
User4 Harry didn't comment?
*****
When you arrived at you-Harry's house, the sun was setting. You was dreading the conversation that was bound to happen. Six years went down the drain in a few hours.
Your whole life felt like a lie.
Harry was sitting on the couch when you walked inside. A major part of you hoped he had some explanation, that it wasn't what it looked like or that it was just a mistake. But when you walked more inside and saw her there still after everything, your heart cracked a bit more.
"Y/N," Harry breathed out, his voice coming out in heaves as if he's out of breath, but you knew him. You knew he was just nervous.
He looked so young when he was sad, his eyes droopy yet shining, the mess of curls and clenched jaw reminded you of the early Harry who stole your heart.
Now, he reminded you of the one that broke it.
"Why is she still here?" was asked first thing first you asked. Harry looked behind him, and Hayden just shrugged and plopped down on the kitchen bar stool eating chips while scrolling through her phone.
"Emotional support for him after you leave" She said with a wink pointed at Harry.
"I just thought it would be better to talk with all of us here," he said, fiddling with his fingers, as if searching for a ring on his ring finger, but there wasn't one. Now that you think of it, you hadn't seen him wear it in so long.
You should have seen the signs.
All you could do was nod. You sat down far away from him on the loveseat, which was ironic cause there was no love in the atmosphere.
"I-" Harry started but couldn't. He closed his mouth again and opened it again, gaping like a goldfish. He looked at you, and you looked at him. Your husband, the person you loved the most after your kids, your first love, your everything.
"How long?" You asked, looking at Harry with dead eyes. It had nothing in them, no spark, nothing just lifeless saphire stones to see.
"Five months," Harry said, looking down at the rug, unable to look into your eyes.
Five months...
They were at your parents' house for Thanksgiving six months ago. The first time, he met Hayden after being with you for almost seven years. He never met your sister, and there was a reason for that.
"Thanksgiving," you mumbled out to herself more than to anyone. He fell out of love with you for so long, and you didn't even know.
"Why, Harry?" You finally asked. You still couldn't cry. No, you still had no expression on your face. You felt like a ghost, pale, feelingless, breathing ghost.
"I don't know," He said, his own lips wobbling.
"I'm going upstairs, babe. Come when you sort this out." Hayden said, walking towards the stairs like she owned the house, "See ya, sis!" She yelled from the top of stairs.
Awkward silence sat between them. The lovers who were laughing, kissing, and playing with their kids just this morning are now sitting in a souless house with a dead relationship.
How can things change so fast?
"Y/N" Harry called you softly. You looked up hopefully, thinking he would say it now, say anything to save whatever was left. You could make a home out of ashes, but for that you did need the ashes.
"I think it's better if you stay here. The kids will not be able to adjust somewhere els-" Harry spoke but stopped when he heard a sniffle.
For the first time since you walked in on them, tears flooded down your face. In just a moment, your eyes were blood red, glistening with tears.
"Where will you live?" You asked with your wobbling voice. A frown took over Harry's face watching you cry, but he was to blame for that.
"I didn't mean for it to happen this way Y/N" he said guiltily.
"Then which way did you want Harry?" You shouted at him, "Having one of our kids walk in on you two, or were you thinking of running away with her? or just wake up one day and throw divorce papers on my face?" You asked, your crying increased, making you choke on it and go into coughing fit.
Harry on instinct went to help you, but you raised your hand, stopping him. "Don't." You shook your head and stood up, calming down your coughing fit.
"I just thought I would talk to you," Harry mummbled his head down, looking at floor.
"You thought you would talk to me. Was this thought came before you stick your dick into my sister or after that?" You asked him clearly angry. You were still crying, your knees felt weak, and your head felt dizzy.
"Harry, we still have time. I- we can still be together just throw her out of house and never see her again. I will not go to my parents' house but please." You fell down to your knees sobbing. You wanted to save the only real thing you ever had, the only person you ever loved, who had been through her thick and thin. You needed him. You needed him for the kids.
Harry was looking down at you sympathetically, his own tears falling down. He felt too much shame to look in your eyes when you looked up at up for answers.
"I don't-" He choked a bit, "I love her Y/N" He whispered.
The final nail was in, the corpse was six feet under, there was no ashes to make home from.
You stilled on the ground, then a loud sob broke from you. You cried with your legs tucked to her chest in a fetal position on the floor. Harry came beside you and brought you to his chest. This time, you didn't move away or push him. You clutched onto his shirt, fully sobbing into it.
You digged your nose into his neck, and the shirt smelled like you. Even after everything, he still smelled like you, but it didn't matter now, did it?
The two lovers cried, holding each other, knowing that once they broke away. Everything else would also be broken.
You didn't know how long it had been. You just knew Harry's shirt was fully wet with your tears, and all you could hear was his heartbeat.
You pulled away from him and looked up in his glistening green eyes and after everything for some reason your eyes held hope.
Maybe it was denial after all they do say it's thr first stage of grief.
But you still knew you had to get out of this house. So, you got up and fixed your clothes to best of your knowledge, tears still falling from your eyes.
You didn't say anything just made your way towards the door concerning Harry. "Y/N were are you going?" He asked following behind you.
"Kids are wt Elliot's" Was all you said as you got into the car and drove off. You didn't know where you were going but you just wanted to go far away from all this.
You weren't a mother who knew her daughter didn't go to sleep until she told her a bedtime story or a wife who just got cheated on by her husband. No, you were just a broken soul who got betrayed by a person who vowed never to hurt her.
You drove in autopilot like you have been for the whole day, how you were alive you didn't know. How many cars and trucks you have doged you didn't know, you didn't even know where you were.
It was a bridge of some kind, you would thinking living in this place for so long would grant you the knowledge of where you are but you didn't know shit. Parking on the side of the road you turned off the car and pulled your windows down. The night cold air filled up the car, making your nose and ears red immediately.
You looked around the place, the small city lights twinkling in the diatance, people returning to their homes. Many who will return to a empty space many to someone waiting for them but you? You lost your home.
Having so much money and fame couldn't give you back your home.
You cried, you cried until you couldn't. You cried until all the tears were drained and all there wad left was a ragining headache and heartache.
You got out of the car and stood near the bridge. Your hair blew in the cold air and somehow you knew you have caught cold. You hugged your coat closer to you searching for any type of warmth.
Putting your hands on the metal bridge you leaned into it more. The rings you were wearing clinked against the metal making you look down to your hands and there it was the pretty diamond he especially got made for you, the one that once held a promise, a promise of faithfulness, love and family and some how in just couple hours you lost all of that or maybe you lost it six months ago just didn't realize it.
You took it off. It didn't held any meaning now did it?
You started crying again. It felt like once the dam broke, it didn't want to stop, but maybe that was for the best. You had kids to be strong for.
Oh god the kids...
What were you going to tell them? Maybe Harry would come back for the kids? He didn't love you but kids? He would come for them, right?
You were soo consumed in you misery you didn't realize your phone was constantly ringing in car or the texts or that from cross the bridge couple of girls were taking your pics.
*****
Harry was getting scared.
When you left the house, he thought you would go to Elliot's house, but you weren't there, and now both of them were constantly blowing up your phone to get a hold of you.
You were in no shape of driving. He should have stopped you, but like most of his decisions, he had nothing to do but regret on them.
He walked back to the couch and plopped down. Hayden was still in the bedroom upstairs. The bedroom that was once yours and his. It felt wrong cause it was wrong, wasn't it? But he loved Hayden, so it has to be right? right?
He looked up from his lap, and his eyes went straight to the flowers sitting on the coffee table. It was a habit of yours to bring something home whenever you come back home early. Mostly, it was flowers or the sushi from the sushi place you both love and went to on your first date.
His heart grew heavy as he picked up the flowers, which might be the last one he ever receives from you. Before he could examine them more or cry over them, a pair of hands were taking them out of his hold.
"C'mon baby, let go to bed. I'm tired" Hayden pouted just like you used to, her same yet different eyes as yours looking back at him, and he couldn't resist. He gave her a somber nod and stood up, making his way upstairs. Once he was out of eyeshot, Hayden threw away the flowers in dustbin and happily made her way to the bedroom.
*****
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Y/Nnews Y/N spotted by some fans near the bridge.
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User1 Why she looks so sad?
User2 I met her..it was my friends who took the picture. I tried to tell them not to but they didn't listen.
User3 What happened?
User2 She looked sad and tired. I mean it's hard being mom but she her usual aura was down like she's usually so chirpy and happy but she looked like she didn't want to be disturbed so we didn'task for a picture.
User3 Yet you invaded her privacy and took her pictures
User4 Is it just me or did anyone else seeing that she's not wearing her wedding ring?
User3 Omg yes I didn't realize
*****
You didn't know when you got here. All you know is Elliot somehow found you and brought you back to his house. He left you in the guest room and asked you to call him if you needed something.
You tossed and turned for hours in bed, or maybe it had been a few minutes, time didn't exist for you anymore. You got up to go to the kitchen and get some water when you saw the wine bottle. The temptation was bad, your fingers were itching, and your mouth went dry.
If there was any time to get wasted, it was this. The evil little voice in your head said and you gave in.
You took the bottle out of the cellar and sat down on the floor with your back against the kitchen counter. You brought the bottle to your lips, your hands shaking so badly that you almost dropped it.
The first drop felt like heaven. Like an old friend, you meet after a long time who you cut off cause you knew they were toxic, but the feeling of sweet reconnection and nostalgia still felt like bliss.
You were so in your head thinking about wine that you didn't see Bran coming to the kitchen or watching you from the doorway. He wanted to stop you but knew it wasn't his place, so he went back to his bedroom where his soon to be husband was sleeping.
"Babe," He shook him lightly, "Babe, wake up" He said a bit loudly, making him whine and grumble. He felt bad for a bit cause Bran knew that things have been hard, the school wasn't doing so well so he had to work extra but right now you needed him and Bran knew Elliot will blame himself if something happened to you.
"What happened?" Elliot asked, "I think you should talk to Y/N. She's is in the kitchen.." Bran paused, "Drinking".
That woke Elliot up, "But she hadn't drunk ever since she got cl-" "I know that's why I said go talk to her before things get worse"
You were halfway done with the bottle when Elliot came back to the kitchen. You were hitting the back of your head against the counter, filling the silent kitchen with a thumping noise.
"Y/N" He called out softly and for a second he wished he didn't. You looked like a mess your already ruined makeup was now in shambles, your eyes blood red and your lips were adoring a drunk smile.
"Put the bottle down Y/N you're hurting yourself" Elliot said, sitting next to you. You rolled your eyes and took a big gulp of the wine again.
"My life is already ruined. What's the worst can happen now?" You said laughing, but there was no humor in it. It was hollow like you felt. A hollow shell.
"You want to tell me what happened?" He asked quietly, trying to take the bottle from you by distracting you.
You burst into tears hearing his question. You wanted to tell him, tell him everything that happened, but your brain was not letting you talk. Like keeping it to yourself will make it go away. It was still in denial that it really happened.
"I don't know how to," you said in between sobs. Elliot pulled you to his side, his hand rubbing up and down your back, trying to soothe your crying.
"Harry-" you said and sobbed harder. "You want me to call him?" He asked, but you just shook your head.
"C'mon sucre tell me what's going on." He urged you to tell him. As time went by, Eilliot became more and more concerned. It wasn't like you to cry so much over a fight. You were the one who mostly solved them. So, it had to be something big for you to be here and crying rather than with Harry.
You stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating if you should tell him, but who else would you tell? He was the only friend you had except your little brother who was miles away in Sydney.
So you told him. You told him how your shooting wrapped up early, how you picked up kids, and went home to surpirse your husband only to get your heart broken in the worst way possible. How your husband of five years and almost seven years of love was now in love with someone else and that someone else was none other than your sister.
"I'm going to break his face!" Elliot seethed and scrambled to get up from beside you, but you took his arm and pulled him down back beside you, having no doubt he actually would.
"It will do nothing but harm to you and to him." You sighed, wiping your tears. You started to hate the feeling of being sober after crying, so you took swing of your wine again.
"I just don't understand how and what went wrong." You said staring at the cupboard's golden handle, "We were so happy this morning. I went to shooting, and he dropped kids to school I-" You choked on the lump in your throat.
"Do you think maybe he's doing this to get back at me for leaving him to go to Venice last minute?" You asked Elliot, "Do you think it's just a elaborate prank, I mean you know how Hayden is, she's bitch I won't be surprised if she came up with the idea of this prank."
Elliot looked at you with sad eyes, his hands rubbing your arms affectionately. "If it's a prank then it's one fucked up prank sucre so no I don't think it's a prank" Elliot said sadly looking at your sleepy eyes.
"It has to be. I mean, we were talking about having another baby after my shooting ended. Why would he want to have another baby if he didn't love me?" You asked him, hoping to get any just any answer to soothe the ache in your heart.
"I think you should ask that to him once you get a bit better. For now lets get you to bed" He said, taking the bottle out of your hand amd you let him. The physical and mental exhaustion of day caught up to you, and pairing that with wine had you sleepy.
Elliot carefully placed you on the bed and then put a glass of water and painkillers on the bedside table, knowing you would have a bad hangover since you drank after a very long time.
Sleep engulfed you soon enough, and you dreamt of the time your life wasn't in distress.
*****
Harry woke up in the morning and smiled when he felt soft hands around his torso. It was the part of the relationship he didn't experience with Hayden, but now he could do it as much as he wanted.
He turned around and pulled her in a lazy kiss, which soon turned heated and led to his boxers flying off from bed and his hands trailing around naked her body earing soft sounds from her.
Both of them fell asleep again. Harry woke up around 10 am to a hungry stomach. For a second, he was about to yell for you cause you always brought him breakfast in bed on weekends. Only to realize his mistake, but before he could feel bad, his eyes fell on similar blonde hair, fanning your his pillow, and he forgot everything.
He took a quick shower and got ready to get some coffee and breakfast. He decided to wake up Hayden to ask what she wanted. "Babe, wake up. I'm going to get breakfast. Do you want anything? " He asked her, getting a grumble in reply.
But then Hayden woke up fully alert. "I want to go with you!" She said excitedly, "I can finally have all for me please" She said pleading and how could he resist her?
She went to ready while Harry sat on couch downstairs going through his phone, but when Hayden took too long, he went to look for her.
He heard hushed voices behind the closed door, "Babe, are you ready?" He called her and opened the door. She stood there with a bright smile, her hair side parted with a white t-shirt and blue jeans much like his outfit.
"C'mon, let's go!" She said and took his hand in hers. Harry smiled and went with her. They sat in the car, and Harry brought her hands to his lips and drove off.
They arrived the hidden cafe they went most of the time cause it was in small area where most people didn't recognize him and there were no chances of him getting caught.
He ordered his usual, and so did Hayden, but as soon as they got out of the cafe with their food, the flash of the camera went off and then another. Harry went into full panic mode cause not only this will go back to you but to the whole world and quickly took Hayden's hand running to his car, dodging questions, and camera flash both.
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StylesNews Harry Styles seen out with mystery woman at secret cafe.
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Y/Nfan2 That's Y/N's sister wtf
Harryfan1 I didn't know she had a sister
Y/Nfan2 they're not that close, Y/N told in an interview.
Harryfan3 He's hanging out with her family aww
Harryfan4 they look a lot closer for my taste🤨
Y/Nfan1 IKR like that hand holding is suspicious
Harryfan4 I hope it's not what I'm thinking it is after seeing Y/N's pictures from yesterday
*****
Meanwhile, you woke up with the worst headache of your life. Thankfully, there were medicines and water beside your bed cause your throat felt dry as a dessert.
You walked out of your room groaning at the amount of light filtering through. "Good morning, sleepyhead." You heard your son say laughing.
"Good morning, mum. We made pancakes!" Your daughter squealed and held up pancakes with both of her hands above her head. You laughed and kissed her cheek.
"It looks delicious, baby and good morning to everyone," you said with a smile, forgetting about your pain for quite some time until your daughter asked you when they would be going home.
"What you got bored of me so fast?!" Bran fake hurt while you stood their staring at her thinking when were you going and where were you going cause you could go anywhere you wanted other than your home.
You were in literal, psychological, and in every sense homeless.
"Let mum have her coffee Amie, you know how she's without it." Elliot joked, and Bran picked Amie up, taking her to the living room to keep her busy, and Em followed them.
You took a mug out of the cupboard to make coffee while Elliot sat there looking at you with pity.
"How did you find me yesterday?" You asked, wanting to change the look in his eyes.
"Oh some girl posted you on twitter" He said biting into his pancake while you made your coffee.
"Someone posted me?" You asked and groaned when he nodded, "My manager is going to kill me"
Great now, top of a cheating husband. You also had to deal with getting your crying pics off the internet and deal with an amgry manager.
You took out your phone out of your jeans, which were getting uncomfortable as time passed.
But nothing matched the uncomfortable and shattering hurt you felt when you saw the trending topic of twitter.
They were already parading out? It had hardly been a day, and he was already over you? Did he not think what will happen when tabloids will find it? which they already had found out making their own stories.
Did he not think what kids will think when they will see it? Em was 14 he knew everything and had a phone of his own. What were you supposed to tell him if he asked you? you didn't even know yourself what was going on.
Your head started pounding more than before, and you could feel the migrain coming in . Even though you knew you had to talk to him, you couldn't today in any shape or form.
Your sadness was slowly subsiding now, and as your headache grew, so did your anger, and you knew it was going to be shit show happening in front of everyone.
*****
Same day in evening-
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Duexmoi This fan favorite couple, an A list actress, and popstar are getting divorced according to an insider. Who do you think they are?
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Harryfan1 Harry and Y/N?
Y/Nfan2 Rumor has it one of them cheated
Y/Nfan4 Defo Harry remember the pictures
Harryfan2 Omg with her sister? that's fucked
Harryfan3 don't jump to any conclusion guys maybe it's someone else or maybe it's fake you know how these are.
Y/Nfan1 Fuck Harry and fuck Hayden
*****
Welll...tell me if you guys liked it pleaseeee i need to know!! here♡
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Text
Not The Same As It Was
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Summary : Harry feels like his life with his family has not been the same as it was. Would he leave his wife and child for the woman who has him craving for more?
Warnings : Angst
Word count: 5.9k
A/n: We're back with another oneshot 🥳This is our late entry to @harry-on-broadway 's fic challenge. Enjoy ❤️
Xoxo,
G and M
Masterlist
----------------------------------------
"So, where are we going?" Harry asked as he climbed onto the passenger seat of the car.
"Calm down, Styles, we ain't gonna kill you", one of the people inside the car laughed, "It's high time you had some actual fun, family life has changed you", another said.
"Hey… that's not true ", he complained as they started driving but that comment had planted a seed of doubt inside his brain.
"Well then, tell me, it's been a month since you came back from tour; how many times have you hung out with us, huh?", Neil, his friend asked. Harry stayed silent. After coming back home, he had spent all his time with his family. And now, he was back in the studio to work on the new album. He had been holed up there all day.
"Yup, that's exactly what I'm talking about, so shut up and have some fun with us tonight, everyone's gonna be there. Just let the old Harry out for this once. You can go back to your boring self tomorrow."
—----------------------------------------------
"Why are you late?Where were you, Harry?"
His head snapped up as he looked at Y/N, his wife. He was sitting on the couch, drinking a glass of water.
"Out", he murmured, placing the glass on the table. "You could've called or texted me, or at least picked up when I called you", she was annoyed.
"Well, I forgot. What's the big deal?" He stood up, placing the glass onto the coffee table with a loud thud and tried to walk towards the bedroom.
"You forgot? We were worried, you know? Beryl went to sleep asking for you. Where were you, Harry? You reek of alcohol." She was getting angrier by the minute.
"What are you on about, Y/N? Can't I just have one night away from all the responsibilities? Can I just enjoy myself for once? Ugh. They were right, family life sure does drag you down", he chuckled meanly.
“What?” she mumbled in disbelief. She loved their little family; her, Harry and their little girl, Beryl. She was so happy to have the most adorable baby on the planet and the best husband. She loved her family with her whole heart and believed he did too, until those poisonous words slipped from his mouth just now. They had talked, even before they had kids, about how important it was for the mental and overall well being of children to have their parents with them. Harry had treated his family as his first priority, until now. Did he really think that? That his family was dragging him down? She could feel bile rising in her throat.
“What? You know I’m right”, he shrugged.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean Harry, you’re clearly drunk. And don’t bring Beryl into this, you knew what you were signing up for when we knew we were pregnant. And you seemed so happy then.” tears pooled in her eyes.
He sighed,
“You know how happy I am to have a family, I just meant that I deserve a break from all this burden, you know.”
“Yup, got your message loud and clear, Styles.”, she said, walking towards their bedroom.
“Shit, Y/N I didn't mean it like that. I just…”
“Save it, Harry. I'll make sure that you won't have to carry our burden.” she said and walked into their bedroom.
He seemed to realize the weight of his words fast enough as the alcohol slowly left his system. He entered the bedroom and saw her coming out of the shower in her pajamas, her eyes were red and puffy. She did not even bother to look at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, fingers fumbling nervously.
“Y/N, baby… just listen to me, I-”
She did not even spare a glance at him and left the room. His eyes started welling up with tears as he heard the sound of Beryl’s room slam shut. He sat against the headboard, as he realized what he had done. Why did he say those words to her, he loved his family dearly, right? Right?
—---------------------------------------------
Y/n could not sleep that night. Were they a burden to him? Was he just tolerating their presence? A mere repayment for having loved her once? She held her daughter tight as she let her tears flow down her face and wet the pillow. Somewhere in the middle of doubting herself and trying to remember if she ever had tied him down, she fell asleep.
—----------------------------------------------
Harry couldn't sleep as well. He was not used to sleeping without her. He knew he had said some hurtful things, but didn't know how to make it better. He woke up early and went for a run to clear his head. He'll just buy her something to make up for it. She was his wife, she wouldn't leave him, would she?
—------------------------------------------------
He had come after the time Y/N and Beryl had left for work and school. He was supposed to take Beryl to school but he purposely avoided coming home early. He knew it would be difficult for him to face Y/N after last night's incidents and he figured that she would take their kid to school. And he was right. Both of them had left.
He placed the necklace he bought for her on the table and wrapped it up, placing a little bow on top. A perfect apology gift. She would surely forgive him after seeing that he had bought her an expensive necklace, right? Well, that's what he thought.
He took the gift to their bedroom and set it down on her dressing table for her to find after she comes home from work and went down to the kitchen, only to see that she had made him breakfast before she left. Guilt tugged at his heart. It would have been so hard for her today, having to get Beryl ready for school, cooking for everyone and then getting to her own workplace, all on her own. He should have been there, helping her with the chores. Y/N was a fashion designer. She had a boutique that sold wedding dresses. Since she had to stay late at work than usual, she had told Harry when he came home from tour that they should hire a nanny for Beryl to stay till she comes home. But Harry was quick to discard that suggestion and said that he'd be there and there was no need to hire anyone.
Harry would apologize to her tonight, he'll pick up Beryl from school, take her to get ice cream. Then he'll come home and make Beryl dinner and get her to sleep by the time Y/N comes home. She had to stay late at work, as her sales were going crazy. Then, when Y/N comes home, he'll set up a nice bubble bath and let her relax. He'll set up a nice romantic dinner and apologize to her. He'll give her the gift he bought her and tell her how much he loves her. If she lets him, he'll show her how much she means to him.
Harry had it all planned. He quickly took a shower, had breakfast and drove over to the studio.
—----------------------------------
Harry had a productive day at work. He was able to get a lot of work done. He could feel the rush of ideas running through his mind.
During the lunch break, he had sent Y/N a text saying that he'll pick up Beryl from school in the evening. She responded in half an hour.
Y/N/N❤️: It's okay, Harry, I'll pick her up. I leave work early today.
—-------------------------------------
"Mate, are you coming or not? ", Jeremy asked impatiently.
"No, man, I've gotta get home early today, you guys go on without me", with that, he was off.
Harry had planned on getting home before Y/N but he didn't know when she would be home. Yes, she had informed him that she'd leave early, but he didn't know the exact time.
He saw her car as he drove into the driveway and realized that his plans had failed. The fresh aroma of food hit his nose as he opened the door and walked in. Y/N was cooking. Beryl was sat on the barstool near the kitchen counter, doing her homework and asking Y/N for help whenever she was met with difficult questions.
Taking off his shoes, Harry carefully walked over to them, a little nervous.
"Daddy, I missed you", Beryl pouted, seeing him. Y/N turned around at the mention of him and their eyes met for a millisecond before she turned away, an expression on her face he couldn't decipher. A wave of disquiet went through him, it was like being doused with ice cold water.
"I missed you too baby", he said, leaning down and placing kisses on her forehead, making her giggle.
"Where were you last night, daddy? I wanted to show you the picture I drew." She frowned.
"Daddy was late, kiddo." He said softly, looking over at Y/N who made no effort to turn around.
"You know what? You could show me the picture now." He said, making her smile.
"Okay daddy, can you put me down?" She asked, holding her arms out. Harry moved closer, picked her up and put her down. She ran off to her room in excitement. Harry walked over to where his wife was chopping tomatoes. He sat on the counter and gently called her name.
“Hey. Look at me.”, he said softly.
She hesitantly looked up.
"I am so sorry, love. I shouldn't have said that. I was drunk and not in my right mind. Will you forgive me?"
"I know, Harry. It's okay, I forgive you", she said in a small voice.
Well, that was easy, he thought. He didn't know why she didn't even put up a fight and stand up for herself because he was clearly in the wrong here.
"Really? I know I was a dick, baby, it won't happen again."
"It's fine, Harry. Don't worry about it" , she gave him a small smile. He knew she was still hurt by the way her smile did not reach her eyes. But he decided not to ask about that. She would be happy after getting that gift. He was about to tell her about it when they were interrupted by the pitter patter of two small feet. Beryl was running over to him with a picture in her hand.
—------------------------------------
After dinner, when Y/N took Beryl to her room to put her to bed, Harry took a quick shower. He did not see her in their room when he got out of the shower.
Was she going to sleep in Beryl's room?
Harry walked over to her room, only to see Beryl sleeping, clutching her reindeer plushie that Harry bought her when he came back from tour last month. It had become her favourite one. Harry smiled to himself and closed the door, walking downstairs, looking for his wife.
There she was, wiping down the kitchen counter and cleaning up. He gently slipped behind her, hugging her from behind and placing a kiss onto her cheek. He sensed her body suddenly stiffening but decided not to comment on it.
Swallowing down his hurt, he gently whispered in her ear,
"Come to bed, baby"
"I'll be there in a few minutes, Harry. You can go to bed if you want to, I'll finish this up and be there", she sounded nervous, he noticed.
"No, I don't want to sleep without you, besides, I have something to give you. I'll wait. "
He helped her clean and led her to their bedroom, handing her the neatly wrapped gift.
"What is it, Harry?" ,she asked .
She had never used a pet name after that encounter. He hated it when she used to call him by his name. She was still hurt, he realised.
"Um, it is a… peace offering. I'm so sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it. So I bought you a necklace as an apology. " He said, suddenly getting nervous.
Sighing, she said,
"You didn't have to, Harry."
"I know, but I wanted to."
"Thank you." She said, without even opening it.
"Can I kiss you? ", he asked apprehensively.
She nodded.
He leaned in, pressing his lips onto hers. It was soft and tender. He held onto her waist and pulled her closer. Both of them did not want to pull away. It was when his hands started wandering over her hips and waist that she pulled back. He looked at her with a small frown.
"I… uh… not today, Harry", she stuttered.
"Um… yeah, sure", he said.
When they went to sleep that night, he hugged her closer to him.
—--------------------------------------
It's been a week since that incident. They were getting back to normal but Harry couldn't help but notice a few changes in his wife's behaviour. She would do all the household chores without asking him for any help, she would cook, and clean, leaving Harry with nothing to do. On one hand, it was good because he could devote his time to the task at hand: the new album. But on the other hand, he found it weird that his usually feisty wife had turned into a housewife. She didn't complain about anything, balancing her housework and kid along with her equally demanding job. She took Beryl to school in the morning and picked her up in the evening.
Their schedules had changed as well. Y/N would wake up early, cook them breakfast and get herself and Beryl ready for work. Harry wouldn't even be awake till they're gone. After waking up, Harry would freshen up and go to the studio. In the evening, Y/N and Beryl would be back, she'd cook them dinner, feed Beryl and get her to bed. Harry would be home late. There were days where they wouldn't even see each other. Y/N had changed her schedule in such a way that she was able to leave in time to get Beryl from school. Harry and Y/N did not really get any alone time. They hadn't even really talked to each other in a week.
The next week seemed so hectic though. Y/N had been busier than ever with her sales going up. She couldn't leave early from work. So, Harry had to take Beryl to school and pick her up.
It was a Friday when they completed and recorded the first song for the new album.
"We'll go celebrate,'' he heard his friends say. He felt like it was only fair for him to go with them as he had been bailing on them for a little while.
Will you pick up Beryl from her dance class today? I don't think I can make it, Harry hastily typed up and sent the message to his wife and without even waiting for a reply, walked towards the car that was waiting for him outside the studio.
—---------------------------------------
They had gone to this new bar near the studio.
It felt liberating for him to be away from work or family for a little while. The drinks had loosened him up. He found the whole having - fun thing refreshing.
It's been a while since he has had some fun, not caring about anything, just living in the present. The alcohol seemed to make him forget about everything. He let himself free, dancing with random strangers and drinking as much as he wanted.
"Hey, Harry, I want you to meet someone," Neil called out over the loud music as Harry was downing another shot of tequila.
With him stood a brunette, tall and gorgeous. She had beautiful hazel eyes which reminded him of Belgian chocolate. She had curves in all the right places. She was wearing a silver bodycon dress which hugged her figure and left little to the imagination.
"Hi, I am Kara", she held her hand out.
"Kara?" He asked, his accent becoming thicker due to him being drunk.
"No, Kara, K-A-R-A" she said.
"That's what I said. I'm English, I have an accent, lord…", he laughed, making her giggle.
He shook her outstretched hand,
"I'm Harry."
"I know", she giggled again.
"So, Harry, this is Kara, my friend from uni, she's a choreographer. She is here for some work related thing, she'll be here for a few months."
"It's nice to meet you ", he said.
"Likewise," she replied with a smile.
They spent the rest of the night talking. Harry found that she had a really nice personality. They talked about many things and he noticed that she had strong opinions about everything, a bold woman, she was.
When it was time for her to leave, she said her goodbyes to everyone in their friend group. Finally, she walked over to Harry,
"It's been great finally meeting you. I've heard so much about you and now I know what they say is true, you're really a gentleman. I'm going to go now, see you around." She leaned in for a hug. He returned the hug, blushing at her praise. She smelled good, like wild berries.
"Bye, see you around", he smiled at her.
He felt that he had taken the right decision to go out, it proved to be a good relaxation technique. He needed to do this often.
It was past midnight when he came home. Beryl was asleep, so was Y/N. He went straight into the kitchen to drink some water and saw a note on the fridge. Dinner is in the fridge, it said, with a hand-drawn red heart on it - Beryl drew it, he realised. He smiled to himself and sauntered over to his room. Y/N was fast asleep. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed under the covers.
For once, Harry Styles felt like he was leading a routine life. A boring one.
—----------------------------------------------
Days passed. Harry had started going out with his friends every now and then. He wasn't even home on weekends. They went to pubs and parties every week. Kara and Harry had become closer than ever. She always tagged along with Neil and gradually, she became an unavoidable member of their friend group. She used to visit his studio whenever she was free.
"Do you want to grab a bite? There's this new bakery I wanted to try", Kara asked one day, when she came to the studio. No one else was there. Harry had to finish up a lyric, and was working on it when Kara called and informed him that she was coming over.
"Yeah, sure, I'd like that"
*****
"Wow, these are delicious", Harry said, as he took another bite from a macaron.
"Well, If you want any advice on anything, you know who to call", Kara laughed, lightly patting his arm.
Both of them had become really touchy with each other. Harry wondered if she was into him. He had felt a spark between them, an invisible pull guiding him towards her. She gave him new ideas and put in her suggestions whenever he was working on something when she went over to the studio. When was the last time Y/N did that? She was always busy with work. When was the last time they had sex? Hell, when was the last time they really talked to each other?
Kara brought out something in him, something fresh, vibrant and lively. He felt like he had become his younger self again. The mood was always playful and silly when she was around.
"Of course", he laughed.
"Can I ask you something, Kara?" , he suddenly asked.
"Why the formalities, H? You know you can ask me anything -"
His phone rang, cutting her off. Huffing, he looked at the screen to check who it was. Y/N. Way to ruin a moment.
"Hello? I'm busy, I'll call you back, okay?", He turned the phone off and turned towards Kara,
"Who was it?"
"Nobody, you were saying?"
"Actually you were about to ask me something. What was it?"
"Yeah, right. So um… I just wanted to erm… know if you were interested in choreographing a dance sequence for my new music video."
"Oh my God… really? I would love that, H", she squealed excitedly.
"So that's settled then, can we go over to the studio and discuss the details with the rest of the team?"
"Sure, let's go"
* * *
What Harry did not know was that his wife was actually outside the cafeteria he was in. She had gone to run a few errands when she saw him there. She called him to let him know that she was there. She was heartbroken after seeing him walk out with a woman, happy and laughing. Might be a friend, don't jump into conclusions, Y/N, she reminded herself.
The next day, deuxmoi had posted that they had sighted Harry outside the studio with a woman. Harry was worried that Y/N would be mad at him, but she didn't say anything. So, Harry was pretty sure that she didn't see it and was so relieved, to say the least.
But she did. She saw every single one of those articles that revealed to her Harry's location when he himself didn't. She heard about Kara doing the choreography from the tabloids, not him. She had seen the way he looked at her and she blamed herself for it.
—-------------------------------------
"And cut…" the director shouted and the room erupted into loud noises.
"It was great, Harry. Kara, you did an amazing job, this is going to break the internet, I can feel it in my kneecaps", he laughed.
The music video for Harry's new single, Medicine, was choreographed by none other than Kara herself. More importantly, she was the one who performed it with him.
The video showed Harry sitting at a bar, just like how they met for the first time, Kara walking towards him and talking to him. Then suddenly, everyone in the bar disappears, leaving a spotlight on Kara and Harry. They stand up and walk towards the middle of the room, performing a seductive, sensual dance sequence. The video ends when they lean in for a kiss and the screen fades to black.
They had excellent chemistry on screen, everyone said.
It wasn't just on screen, Harry wasn't faking it. He enjoyed touching her, the way she would turn putty in his arms. He wanted to know if she felt it too. Harry swore he heard a small whimper when he leaned towards her in the last scene. It caught him off guard. When the director yelled 'cut' , they pulled away from each other. They might not have kissed, but the closeness made him feel something.
People were leaving after the shooting. After thanking everyone, Harry turned towards the door, only to see his wife standing there, talking to a crew member. He didn't expect she'd come to the shooting. Yes, he had told her over dinner that they would be shooting the video the next day but he never thought she would come. To be honest, he felt like they were drifting apart, they didn't have what they had once, they were falling out of love.
His eyes widened when he saw her there. How long has she been there? Did she saw the way he was touching Kara? Did she understand how he felt? He could feel his palms sweating.
Putting on his fakest smile, he walked over to her and slipped a hand around her waist,
"Hey Y/N/N, when did you get here?"
"I got here while you were filming, your mom took Beryl for the night. You did fantastic, H. I'm so proud of you", she smiled.
"Thanks baby. Shall we head out? "
"Um… yeah, sure"
"You go wait in the car, I'll be there, gotta get my phone and wallet from the other room", he said.
—-----------------------------------
It was the day before the premier. Harry had arranged a celebratory dinner for the crew. Y/N was also there.
After the dinner, they were about to leave. Y/N had gone to the washroom and was coming out into the hallway when she heard Kara call out to her husband.
"H, wait up…"
Harry turned around to see Kara running towards him.
"Were you leaving?"
"I… yeah, I was. My wife had gone to the washroom, I was waiting for her", he said. She should know that he was married; she should know what she was getting into, if she was interested in him. But of course, she would know, he was The Harry Styles.
"Um, yeah… I just wanted to let you know something. "
"Yeah? What is it?" , he asked frowning slightly.
"It's just that I'm going back to L.A the day after tomorrow."
"Oh" , he wasn't expecting that. His face fell.
"I'm going to come right out and say it Harry, I really like you and I feel like you like me too. Uh…would you come to my apartment, if I invite you? We could spend one night together before I go back."
Harry couldn't believe it, she liked him!
Without wasting another moment, he stuttered out,
"I … yeah, I'll come. We'll go after the premier".
Y/N couldn't believe what she heard. Her husband was in love with someone else. He was going to cheat on her. Her heart dropped to her stomach. She just wanted the earth to split in two and swallow her whole into the abyss. She walked downstairs, shoulders slumped in defeat. She walked away and waited by the car, expecting his arrival. She heard his footsteps not long after. Wiping off her tears, she tried to act normal.
—-----------------------------------------------
The day of the premier. Harry had woken up before everyone and was getting ready. The stylist had done his hair and makeup. He just had to change into his tux.
"Y/N, are you ready yet, baby?" He called out.
When there was no reply, he walked towards the bedroom and saw her in her PJs, eyes puffy and nose red.
"Baby, are you alright? What happened? Aren't you coming with me to the premier?" He asked.
"Um, no, I'm not. I don't feel good. I think I'm going to be sick. Can you go on without me today?" ,She lied, her voice hoarse.
Harry didn't think twice before agreeing. He was already nervous about how he was going to go to Kara's house with Y/N around. Now that she wasn't coming, it was easier for him to go to her place, but when he was about to leave for the venue, she felt bad about leaving Y/N in such a state. Was it fair to her, what he was doing? It's just a night, and Kara will be off to god- knows- where after that. It was his last chance. Harry walked towards the car with confident strides.
—--------------------------
After Harry slammed the front door shut, Y/N broke down. She couldn't take it anymore. Harry won't be home tonight. He'd be going to her house and he'd realise that all he wanted was Kara and leave them. Y/N decided that she would leave before he'd have to break the news to her - she didn't want to hear that from him, she didn't want what they had to end, but what choice did she have? He doesn't feel the same way anymore. What was the point of staying there? After tonight, he would never be hers. He was going to give Kara something that belonged only to them. After tonight, Y/N is nothing to him. With a heavy heart and tearful eyes, she started packing all her stuff.
By afternoon, she was able to pack everything. She told Beryl that they were going on a little trip. They had to leave before he came home. She didn't know where to go. She took out her phone and called the only person who came to her mind - her best friend Alice. She called an uber in the evening and loaded all their belongings into it. With sorrowful eyes, she looked over at their house one more time ; the house they bought together, the house she thought they'd grow old together in, the house they had built so many memories in. With trembling hands, she opened the door to the car, let Beryl and herself in.
—--------------------------------------
The event went well. Kara was not wasting any time, touching Harry any way she could. He didn't object or in any way try to get away from it. But he gradually started finding it a little uncomfortable.
The premier was over by 7o' clock in the evening. Everyone was going about their seperate ways and as the time passed, Harry became more and more fidgety and skittish. He saw Kara approaching and gave her a nervous smile.
"Um, I think we should go seperately you know, to not give the press anything to talk about." She said.
"Yeah, right. So erm… you will go now and I'll come to your place later?"
"Exactly. Plus…it will give me time to prepare ", she smirked, walking away.
—---------------------------------------
Harry's heart was racing. He stepped out of the car and walked towards the house. The yard was illuminated with lamps on either sides of the pavement. With each step, he was getting more and more anxious.
"This is it", he muttered to himself. The chilly air of the night made him shiver. He involuntarily put his hand inside his pants pocket. There was something there. He took it out, it was a folded piece of paper, sides crumpled. Curious, he gently opened it, inside it was a hand drawn picture. He realized that Beryl must have sneaked in that picture the day before. Three stick figures stood in front of a rose bush. The words "all the best, Daddy" was written in purple colour. He smiled at the memory - when he and Y/N took Beryl to the rose garden while they were visiting France. Beryl was so happy to see the butterflies she saw there. She had even made a new friend there. They explored the city and Beryl was so tired by the time they went back to the hotel room, which gave Harry some much needed intimate time with his wife.
He thought back to the time when Beryl was born. He was out of town for a meeting when Anne called him, saying that his wife had been admitted to the hospital. She was out with Anne and Gemma at the time. He got to the hospital as fast as he could. There she was, smiling like the angel she was, holding a small bundle of blankets in her hand. He rushed over to her and looked inside the bundle to see their little baby girl.
"Our little girl", he said, tearing up.
"Our little girl", she repeated. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for giving me the best gift in the world, I promise to love you both till the day I die."
Harry teared up at the memory. He had everything. Y/N gave him everything. What had gone wrong between them? Was she not enough for him? No, she was always more than enough, it was his own stupidity that led him to where he was now. Then realisation dawned upon him - he was searching for Y/N in Kara. The way she made him feel, the way she soothed him; but the truth was that he could never find it in Kara.
It was never Kara, it was Y/N , it was always her and it was high time he let her know that; he had been taking her for granted. Harry turned around and started walking towards his car with confident strides.
Wiping off his tears, he focused on the road. Kara had been blowing up his phone. He felt disgusted at himself for even considering cheating on his wife. And the worst part was that he had left her all alone, sick, to care for herself when he was so eager to have another woman under him. He felt pathetic.
—-------------------------------------------
He parked his car and ran towards the front door. The house was covered in darkness. Why didn't Y/N turn the lights on? Was she that sick? At that moment, Harry hated himself for leaving her in the bed.
He turned on the lights and called for Y/N. No reply. He walked towards the bedroom, only to find nothing but a pile of sheets. He checked every nook and corner of the house for them, but to no avail. Harry started panicking. What happened to his wife and child? Where were they? He checked his phone again. No calls or messages from her. He called her back, but all the calls went straight to voicemail. Walking back to his bedroom, he found something he didn't see when he first came in... her wedding ring? On top of a wrapped box? He realised that it was the very same gift he gave her to make up for their fight - it hadn't even been opened. On top of it was a letter.
He was confused. He gently opened the letter,
Dear Harry,
By the time you see this, we would be out of your hair. I know I have not been the best wife, and trust me I've been trying.
After you told me that we were a burden to you, I had been trying so hard not to be a burden; I used to stay late in the boutique, do everything for you so that you won't leave me; leave us. I had realised that you had fallen out of love with me, but I didn't want to be separated from you, I thought it wasn't fair to Beryl. I thought I could handle it. But I couldn't. I hated it when I saw you with Kara. I hate that you don't love me anymore and I hate myself for it. I had seen you that day at the cafe and had called you to let you know that I was there. But I didn't know that you were with someone else. I didn't say anything even after you came home, because I didn't want you to leave us. I selfishly held on to the hope that if I stopped bothering you for everything, maybe you'd stay with us. But that hope was shattered when I accidentally overheard you and Kara at the dinner. I couldn't stay here after that. I am taking Beryl with me. I know I don't have a place in your life anymore. It hurts like hell and I know that I would never be able to move on from you because I loved you; I still love you. I didn't want you to tell me that you don't want us here, so I left with Beryl this afternoon. Don't worry, we won't be a burden to you anymore. I don't want your money or fame or anything, I just have a request to you - even if you regret me, please don't regret Beryl, she would be heartbroken.
I would tell Beryl that you have gone back for tour; she'd be sad at first, but she'd get over it eventually.
We won't meet again, Harry. I'll stay out of your life for good. I really hope this was worth it.
Goodbye,
Y/N
Harry stood there with the letter in his hand, shocked. And when reality sunk in, he collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down his face.
----------------------------------------
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1K notes · View notes
mcntsee · 15 days
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
23K notes · View notes
malfoyscoffee · 5 months
Text
call me theo ᯓᡣ𐭩 theodore nott
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౨ৎ theodore nott x slytherin!fem!reader
ᡣ𐭩 fluff, angst | exes to lovers
➶ mentions of time skip and use of y/n
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“Friends?”
“Friends.”
That marked the end of your two-year relationship with Theodore. As he said his final word, you turned away, walking down the winding steps of the Astronomy Tower, holding back the emotions until you returned to your dormitory.
The night blurred into a haze of tears, finding comfort in Pansy’s shoulder as both of you nestled on the dorm floor. Hours passed in a cocoon of sadness before Blaise, Mattheo, Lorenzo, and even Draco appeared with snacks and muggle movies, trying to lift your spirits.
Wrapped up in your distress, you didn't think to ask how they found out about your breakup. Unbeknownst to you, amidst his own pain, Theodore asked his friends to comfort you instead of him.
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Three weeks had gone by since the breakup. As promised, you and Theodore went back to being friends, just like before, merely two friends within the same tight-knit circle. But beneath the surface of friendliness, your friends noticed the underlying tension between you and Theodore, silently wishing for a reunion.
It was a random morning in the Great Hall when you announced to your friends that you would be occupied before dinner to take on the extra credit assignment for Herbology. Your friends looked at you strangely, the assignment was unnecessary for someone with such high marks, but inside you wanted a distraction from everything.
Back in the common room, the attention shifted to Theodore, the elephant in the room finally about to be addressed.
“So, what led to the breakup?” Blaise relaxed in his chair while Theodore sighed, looking at the ceiling.
“She didn’t say why, but she mentioned that you initiated the breakup,” Draco said casually, trying to hide his interest for the situation.
“I told her she deserved better.”
Silence.
Suddenly, Lorenzo burst into laughter.
“Salazar, Enzo,” Pansy stood, disregarding Lorenzo's reaction. “So, let me get this straight,” she pointed her finger at Theodore, “You're saying the reason the group has been down is because you decided she deserved someone better?”
Mattheo set aside his cigarette, “Didn’t expect you to be so naive, mate.”
Blaise nodded, “Thinking that's an explanation. (Y/n) adores you, where will you find a girl better than her?”
Theodore’s face paled, “She’ll find someone better and eventually leave me. I couldn’t handle that.”
Draco stayed composed, “So you ended it first. Well done, Theo.”
Theodore buried his face in his hands, letting out an exasperated groan. “You all know she has a promising future after graduation. Why should she stay with me and be held back?”
“Did you talk to her about this, or did your insecurities make the call?” Lorenzo’s words made Theodore freeze, lost in thought.
Pansy packed up, checking the time. “Dinner’s soon. Let’s go.”
The boys followed Pansy, leaving Theodore alone, contemplating if his decision was right for your relationship.
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"I got the job!"
Strolling around Hogsmeade with Blaise and Pansy, you stumbled upon a new place—a wizarding coffee shop. Your liking for muggle coffeehouses sparked your curiosity, pushing you to ask about potential employment.
Excitement bubbled as you shared the news with your friends in the Great Hall.
“We’ve got a place to visit now.” Lorenzo grinned, aware it might bring some joy after a while.
Pansy nudged Draco, "Let’s study there. OWLS are coming up and some muggle coffee might help."
Draco glanced at Theodore, who sat in silence, unsure of what to say. “That sounds like a plan. I could use some muggle coffee.”
They all knew Draco was convincing Theodore to join.
"When do you start?" Mattheo asked between sips of hot chocolate.
You remembered your upcoming schedule, “Next week, Wednesdays and Saturdays? Once I’m trained, next Saturday, I’ll treat you all to some amazing muggle coffee."
The group agreed, planning to meet at your workplace next Saturday.
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“Five cups of regular iced coffee, please.” You operated the muggle machine, engrossed in fulfilling the order.
“Oh, hey, Theodore. Are the others here?” You looked around, causing Theodore’s shoulders to slump slightly.
“They're at the big corner table. Enzo insisted the natural sunlight would help with studying…”
A soft chuckle escaped, “You can go back, I’ll bring the drinks over when ready.” Theodore nodded, returning to the café’s corner.
Blaise grabbed the first cup but stopped when Pansy teased him. “Don’t hog! Share!”
“How does it taste?” you asked, turning to your friends.
“(Y/n), muggle coffee is amazing.” Mattheo praised, soon followed by Blaise signaling he finished his drink.
“I should tell my father about this place,” Draco chimed in, and before you knew it, all the cups were empty.
“I should get back to work, see you at dinner.”
“What time do you finish?” Theodore's sudden interest surprised everyone.
“(Y/n)?”
"I'm done around six," You said while feeling a bit overwhelmed inside.
Theodore nodded, indicating your return to work.
Numerous customers kept you busy. Though you didn’t need money, the experience was enriching.
While your friends left at five, Theodore stayed. He moved to a quiet spot facing the counter where you worked.
Ignoring his shift, you focused on the new customers who walked in.
“(Y/n), it's six, you can leave,” your boss said, offering a pastry.
“Thanks,” grabbing your coat, you started to leave the kitchen.
“Are you done?” Theodore was poised by the counter, waiting for your response.
“Theodore, did you wait?”
Signaling to walk together, he said, “I had a few assignments that I wanted to finish early so I stayed longer.” His nervous fidgeting gave away his lie, his habit you remembered from your past relationship.
You hummed, touched by his waiting.
“I might visit often. I didn't mention earlier, but the coffee’s great.”
Walking back to Hogwarts, feelings for Theodore surfaced since the breakup.
How could you move on when he acted this way?
For two months, Theodore kept his promise, visiting the café every Wednesday and Saturday, bringing schoolwork, and leaving with you.
You felt the emotions returning but you were scared to get hurt. After all, he initiated the breakup, right?
Your friends noticed Theodore’s absence on your workdays, understanding where Theodore was without verbal explanation.
“One large iced coffee, please.” You prepared a cup, “And your name?”
“Theo.”
“Oh,” You looked up at Theodore. “One large iced coffee for Theodore.” You repeated his order and placed the cup down.
“Why don’t you call me Theo anymore?” His disappointment was evident.
Meeting his gaze, you explained, “Because we’re just friends.”
Theodore observed the cup, then you.
“You know what, I think I forgot something at my dorm. I’m going to go.” His tone was sharper than he meant, leaving the café abruptly.
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“Now you're the clueless one. Salazar, why do I have two of them?” Lorenzo dramatized, earning an eye roll from you.
Theodore disappeared after the café meeting. Unaware of his whereabouts, your friends gathered in the common room, waiting for his return.
“I mean, (Y/n), Enzo's right,” Pansy said, sipping the muggle coffee you brewed for the group.
“He ended things months ago. I don’t see why you're all on his side.” Frowning, you didn’t grasp their empathy toward Theodore.
“(Y/n), listen,” Blaise interrupted, “Regardless of who initiated the breakup, Theodore has come to your café twice a week for months, just to be spend time with you.”
Draco echoed Blaise’s sentiments. “OWLS were done a month ago, yet he still visits. Give Theo credit for trying.”
You sighed, “I care for him, but I don’t want to be hurt again. He should just tell me. His actions are misleading if he doesn’t want to reconcile.”
Lost in thought, the warmth of the common room enveloped you, the crackling fire providing a soothing ambiance.
As evening approached, your thoughts circled Theodore’s sudden exit from the café, leaving you unsettled, your mind in disarray.
Unnoticed, the common room door creaked open. Theodore entered, visibly anxious. His eyes met yours, a blend of hesitation and resolve painting his expression.
The room fell silent as Theodore approached you, a mix of emotions playing across his face. Without a word, you got up and led him out of the common room.
The two of you reached the Blake Lake, facing each other, as tension filled the air. Theodore struggled with his thoughts, torn between holding back and speaking up.
“I’m sorry for earlier,” he started, a hint of regret in his tone. “I didn’t mean to leave abruptly. I've been struggling, (Y/n).”
“Struggling? With what, Theodore?”
Gathering his thoughts, he spoke earnestly. “With everything between us. The breakup, it wasn't about not caring about you. I was scared.”
“Scared?” Your voice softened, understanding blooming within.
Theodore nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I was scared that you would realize I was holding you back and leave me. So I thought if I let you go, you would be better off.”
Your heart ached, his honesty striking a chord with your own doubts. “But, Theodore, you never gave me a chance to choose. You made that decision for me.”
“I know, and I regret it every day.” Remorse filled his words, his vulnerability evident. “I visited the café because I wanted to be near you. But I understand if it’s been confusing for you.”
Silence hung, emotions swirling like a storm.
“I never stopped loving you,” you whispered, emotions stirring within.
He met your gaze, “I don't want to lose you again, (Y/n). I want us to start over, I'll do everything to make things right.”
“Let's take it slow, Theodore. Start over and let's see where it takes us.”
A soft smile appeared on his face, relief in his eyes. “I promise, I'll do everything.”
"I've missed this," Theodore confessed softly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions.
You gently squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Me too. I think we both needed this time to figure things out."
Theodore stopped walking, turning to face you with resolve. "I want us to try again, to be together, properly this time.”
Your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through you at his words. You looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity that reassured you more than any words could. "I want that too, Theodore. Let's give us another chance."
With that shared agreement, a sense of relief and joy washed over both of you. Walking hand in hand, Theodore smiled for the first time in months.
“Now, will you call me Theo?”
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2K notes · View notes
freedomfireflies · 1 month
Text
Pillow Talk*
Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.
Word Count: 7.2k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!
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“Oh, absolutely not.”
“Come on. Just one time.”
“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”
You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 
“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”
You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”
“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”
You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 
But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.
“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”
There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.
You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.
Or maybe it won’t.
But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.
So, with that thought…you open the door. 
He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.
And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.
He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.
“What?” you huff.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”
“Okay…?”
“You changed your hair.”
“Yeah.”
“Hm. It’s nice.”
You cross your arms. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.
“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.
“Right, yeah.”
“Okay.”
You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.
When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Why?”
Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”
He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”
“I don’t care.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”
Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”
“Never thought I’d have to say it.”
“Mm. You changed your mattress.”
“Obviously.”
“And the sheets and blankets, too.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”
“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”
“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s nice.”
“Bite me.”
He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”
“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 
You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.
And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”
You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”
“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”
“Yeah. I know.”
More quiet.
“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 
Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”
“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”
“Right.”
“And I just figured—”
“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.
The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.
“What?” you eventually hiss.
“Are you dating someone?” he asks.
“What?”
“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”
You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”
“You guess?”
“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”
“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”
“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”
“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”
Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”
His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”
You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”
“Vanilla?”
Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”
“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”
You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”
“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”
“Yeah? And?”
“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”
Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”
“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”
“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”
“So he’s not vanilla?”
“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”
“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”
“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”
Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”
“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”
“So what he’d do?”
“Harry—”
“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”
“Ew, no—”
“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”
You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”
“And…?”
“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”
“Sure.”
Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”
Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”
“I guess. It could have been worse.”
“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”
You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”
“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”
“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”
He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”
You turn back. “What?”
“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”
“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”
“Poppy—”
“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”
“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”
“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”
“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”
“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”
“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”
You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”
He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”
“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”
“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”
“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”
He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”
“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”
“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”
“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”
“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”
“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”
“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”
“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”
“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”
“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”
“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”
He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.
Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.
But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.
Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.
He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.
The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.
He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 
His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.
“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”
You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”
He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”
“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”
Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.
He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.
Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.
However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.
“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”
You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”
“Hm. Don’t push it.”
“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 
“Maybe.”
“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”
“…not exactly.”
“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”
“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.
“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”
“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”
He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”
He smirks. “How romantic.”
“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”
So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.
Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 
He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.
And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 
Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.
He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.
You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.
But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?
There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 
Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 
And just like that…
It’s over.
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You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.
He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.
Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”
You blink. “Um…okay.”
He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”
The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”
“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”
“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 
“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”
“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”
“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”
“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”
 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”
“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”
“I was taking care of myself—”
“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”
“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”
“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”
He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”
“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”
He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”
You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”
His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”
You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”
His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.
“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”
“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”
You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”
“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”
And deep down…you know he’s right.
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“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”
Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.
Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.
So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 
You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.
Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.
And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.
“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”
“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”
“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”
“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”
“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”
You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”
“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”
“Harry. Come on. I know you.”
“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”
You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”
“No?” He grins. “Why not?”
“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”
He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”
You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”
He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”
You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 
He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.
Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 
“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”
“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”
“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”
“Obviously.”
“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”
You pout. “Mhm.”
He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 
And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 
“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.
“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”
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You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.
He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 
But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.
You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.
“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.
You glance up. 
“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”
You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”
“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”
“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”
He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”
“You used to make me happy.”
The soft strokes against your spine slow. 
“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”
“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”
You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.
But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.
“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”
“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 
“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”
More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.
And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”
You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”
“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”
Another pause. You don’t know what to say.
“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”
You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”
“Did we?”
“Harry…”
“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”
“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”
“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”
“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”
He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.
But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.
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“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”
You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 
“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”
His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”
You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.
You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.
“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 
He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”
You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.
His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”
It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”
“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”
You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”
He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”
“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”
He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”
You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”
“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”
“Oh, you did, huh?” 
“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”
You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”
“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”
“We did indeed.”
“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”
“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”
“Is that right?” 
“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”
“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”
“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”
“And does it work?”
“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”
He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”
“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”
“I imagine you, too.”
You blink. “You do?”
“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”
You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”
He smiles. “Yeah.”
The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 
Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.
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Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 
Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.
Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.
The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.
He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.
You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.
You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 
You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 
And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.
You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.
Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.
But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.
“Make me a deal,” you whisper.
He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”
“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”
His eyes open.
“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”
He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.
Even if it’s just as friends.
Exes.
Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.
His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.
You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.
You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 
You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.
And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.
“Good morning, Poppy.”
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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 @laelamarley @myalovesharry
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pretty-little-mind33 · 7 months
Text
You Are In Love
James Potter x Lupin fem!reader
Summary: You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.
Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers
Warnings: Regulus Black x reader mentioned, swearing, insecurities, unrequited love? James is oblivious, he's kind of an asshole, jealousy, idiots in love basically
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During the six years you've known him James Potter was never mean to you.
He'd always been the sweetest out of your brother's friends, and as kids you looked up to him. However, it wasn't until you turned sixteen that it became obvious you didn't see him as another brother. Instead, your admiration turned into the most obnoxious, heart-wrenching, crush. 
When, after a year of pining, you came to the conclusion that James would never like you in the way you liked him, you reluctantly allowed your crush to fizzle away.
"He's just so cute," Your smile hurts your cheeks as you lay on the ground and point out the little notes your newest crush had written in your potions book. 
"Oh, and look at this," You sit up and lean in to proudly show your friends your wrist, where a messy little heart is drawn. "Isn't Reggy just the cutest?" You must sound repetitive by now but your friends still listen with enthusiasm, "I think he likes me," You whisper.
You don't pay attention when James, Sirius, and a few other Gryffindor Quidditch players walk into the Common Room until, with exhausted humphs, Sirius and James let themselves slump dramatically onto the couch behind you and Sirius nudges his foot into your ribs, "Hey, little Lupin," He teases.
You hum and nonchalantly turn to look at him, accidentally catching James's eye. Jame's arm leans across the cushions as he tilts his head a moment and his lips curl up. His tongue cheekily pokes at his cheek as they turn pinker.
"Heard'ya have a crush on my little brother," Hearing his friend, James's smirk disappears as he tears his eyes away from yours, "He mentioned you yesterday." Sirius continues. 
Quickly, you jump up and happily skip over to where Sirius and James sit. Your friends watch you in amusement as you mutter, "Excuse me," and wiggle in between the boys.
James moves his arm and sits up, clearing his throat. He runs a hand in his hair as he pretends not to listen in on your conversation.
"What did he say?" You ask.
James's jaw tightens as your scent surrounds him. He is never sure if it's your perfume or your shampoo but you smell like vanilla (with just a hint of strawberry) and his heart thumps. Absentmindedly, his hand twitches around his knee. 
"Said he wants to know you better," Sirius side-eyes you, "Wanted my advice on how to talk to you. You wanna know what my advice is, Lupin?" Sirius leans his elbow on his knees and his chin in his palm as he looks at you directly.
You nod, your entire body now turned away from James and facing Sirius, "Stay away from Regulus. He's trouble. I don't know what you see in him anyways." Your face falls.
"What do you mean? He's actually kind, and he's funny, and he has really gorgeous eyes." You insist a little loudly, "I like him. He makes my heart flutter as if it contained a million butterflies — " You admit.
You've have always had a tendency to dramatize your crushes. 
You hear James shift and he mutters something under his breath. Turning to him, your cheeks warm as you don't think you heard him clearly, "Sorry?"
"I - can't you just shut up about Regulus for one goddamn second? Because, frankly, I don't think anyone in this room actually cares what he does to your heart or how good he makes you feel," James's voice is tense and he looks at you with a completely blank expression.
Your eyes bounce frantically from feature to feature. From his crimson cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, and a small, developing, bruise (most likely from Quidditch) hidden under his chin. You feel nauseous as his words sink in. 
You look around the room. Your friends all look surprised by James's comment and a few of the Quidditch players still in the Common Room whisper among themselves as they occasionally glance your way. Sirius turns to his best friend, his smile has disappeared but he doesn't speak. You wonder if he's as lost for words as you are.
At that moment, your brother walks into the room, three or four books tucked under his arm, and he looks at you and his friends from behind his reading glasses. He sees your lip tremble as your hands shake over your lap and you refuse to look away from James. Remus frowns, "Y/n, what's wrong?" He asks, cutting into the tension.
"You're a jerk, James." Your voice quivers and you stand. Without another word, you run up the stairs to your dorm and, as quickly as possible, your friends scramble to follow you.
"Why'd you say that?" Sirius asks in shock, raising his eyebrow in question at his best friend. James barely feels like he's in his body anymore and he blinks. Why did he say that to you? He looks at Remus and his heart sinks as a pit forms in his stomach. He's so screwed.
"What the bloody fuck did you say to my sister, Potter?" Remus curses.
Remus never curses. 
* * * 
James hasn't spoken with you in almost three weeks. Which means he hasn't had the chance to tell you he's sorry.
He's not that stupid, he knows you've been ignoring him and he can't exactly blame you. As you'd said, he'd been a jerk and he feels goddamn awful about it.
Ironically, what is making this entire situation so much worse is instead of hanging out with your friends — with him — you've been hanging out with Regulus. 
James sees you study with him in the library. He sees you eat together in the dining hall, and walk to Quidditch games, hands almost brushing. His Quidditch games. Where he can't concentrate because all he can think about is the way another boy is making you laugh as he whispers, whatever it is that is so urgent he needs to press his lips to your skin, into your ear. 
"What the hell was that out there?!" Sirius sounds annoyed as he hits James in the chest with his damp towel on their way out of the showers and into the changing room, "Where was your head, because it certainly wasn't in the game, mate!" 
James looks away as he dries his hair with his towel, "I know, I know. I don't know what's wrong with me lately." He slumps onto the bench and resists the urge to scream into his hands. 
"It's his little girlfriend. Our captain here s'just upset because she's been spending all her time with your little bro instead of with him — like she usually does." Andy, one of the beaters, snorts from behind James and quickly, James spins around and throws his towel at him in. He sends Andy a dark look, to which Andy shrugs his shoulders.  
"Y/n?" Sirius frowns, he points at James and then gestures his arms wildly, "Our Y/n? As in Remus's sister, Y/n?" James cheeks flame in embarrassment and Sirius's eyes widen, "Oh my, you're so jealous." He says with a smirks
"I am not jealous, Padfoot. I just — seeing her with him while she smiles like that annoys me a lot." James tries to defend himself, "I don't know why it bothers me so much but it does. It really does and I- it's just that she was never with other guys usually and I – " He pauses and squeezes his eyes shut as he groans, "I'm just describing my jealousy, aren't I?"
His teammates laugh and Sirius crosses his arms, "Yup." He tilts his head and pops his 'p', "So, how long have ya had a thing for our little Lupin, Prongs?" 
James gives in and leans forwards to cover his face with his hands, "I don't know, Pads. I didn't even know I had a thing for her until three seconds ago." He opens his fingers and peeks at his friend, "And what am I supposed to do now? She's completely in love with your brother and she's Moony's sister."
Sirius rolls his eyes, "Oh please, she isn't in love with my brother."
James drops his arms onto his lap and looks at Sirius with confusion, "How would you know? She seems pretty in love with this to me."
"James, do you really not known that she's had a crush on you for almost a year? Everyone knows, even Remus." 
James's eyes widened, "Wait, what? Since when – I - why didn't anyone tell me?"
"She made it very obvious. It's not our fault you're a knucklehead when it comes to women." Sirius chuckles and throws his towel over his shoulder. James stares blankly in front of him as all kinds of emotions wash over him.
You had a crush on him?
"Yeah, w-well she doesn't like me anymore," James concludes as he stands up and slips on his jeans, "I was a dick, she must hate me now." He clumsily buttons his chemise.
"Y/n could never hate you." Sirius chuckles, "Just go talk to her, you idiot."
James stares at his friend for a moment, debating his options, but then nods. As soon as he walks out of the changing room, he's determined to make this all okay again.
However, when he enters the Gryffindor common room a few minutes later and sees you and Regulus sitting on the ground around a game of wizards chess, his heart sinks.
His eyes automatically find the board. You're losing.
James can't help but remember all the times you've beaten him and the way your cheek had risen in excitement and smile lines had illuminated your features. He doesn't understand why Regulus would want to miss that smile. 
James would kill to see you smile like that again.
You glance up at the sound of the door just as Regulus turns around. James stands in the doorway, his skin pales and his knuckles flex as his eyes vibrate. They're locked onto yours. Instantly, you're on your feet, "James!" You exclaim, eyes shifting from him and then Regulus. Regulus, whose expression is blank.
"Sorry," James mutters weakly. He realizes her doesn't have it in him to be jealous anymore. Not now that he knows why he's jealous. Who is he to stand in the way of your happiness? And if you're happy with Regulus, then he's happy for you.
He walks by you without a word and you turn around to watch him leave. However, your chest tightens when he pauses and it looks like he's debating something. You sense Regulus stand, "You know what? No." James suddenly blurts out and then turns around. You look at him like he's insane.
"I can't let you do this," He continues breathlessly. 
"I think your friend has gone completely bonkers." Regulus leans in to whisper in your ear with a smirk but James interrupts him,
"This really doesn't concern you." James doesn't waste any time on him as he looks at you again, "Y/n, you should be with me, not him." 
"Excuse me?" You frown and then look at Regulus as if to make sure he'd also heard James correctly. Regulus's smirk just widens as he crosses his arms.
Your embarrassment becomes worse when the common room door opens and Sirius, Peter, and your brother walk in. Their amused chatter turns into hushed whispers until they become silent as they watch the scene in front of them.
James's head whips around and you assume he'll stop whatever he thinks this is, but instead he just continues to ramble, "Hi!" His voice is hurried and loud. Sirius frowns. "You guys can stay. You should hear this too, Moony."
James turns to you again, "I like you."
You blink at him and look around the room, worried that you're losing your mind. Your brother has his cheeks flushed and he narrows his eyes at his friend. However, his eyes move to you and they soften when he sees your expression, "Y/n," Remus whispers.
"You like me? Is this one of your sick jokes?" You're unamused. James shakes his head adamantly but you continue in one breath, "I've liked you for months and months and it's only now, when you probably think I like someone else, you decide you like me? That's unfair, James" You sound stern. 
"That's really fucking unfair," You whisper and push past him. James turns to you and calls your name as you disappear up the stairs to the dorms. It feels all too familiar when it sinks in that he messed things up. Again.
 "You're such an idiot," Sirius groans as he drops his head on Remus's shoulder dramatically. 
* * * 
You throw yourself onto your bed with a bounce and scoop your pillow into your arms, screaming into it. Why does James have to be so goddamn infuriating all the damn time? He's always been oblivious to you until now — just when you've been trying your hardest to move on.   
You hear a knock on your door and you grumble in response. One of your roommates walks into the room, "Remus is waiting by the stairs. Says he wants to talk to you." She says as she throws her book-bag onto the ground. You sit up, running a hand all over your face with an annoyed groan.
Reluctantly, you make your way downstairs. Your hand slides down the railing until you pause and see your brother at the end of the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest. "What?" You raise your brow and mimic his posture with a small smile. 
James and Sirius aren't with him. "Come here," Remus demands calmly. 
You look away and bite your lip. Still, you jump down the last pair of stairs until you're directly in front of your older brother, "Y'know, I don't know why you're pissed at me. I wasn't the one who — " Remus suddenly flicks your forehead which shuts you up.
"Do you like James?" He stares at you.
You stare back, your heart pounding. You don't know what to answer him. "I- I don't know." 
"Well, you better know because he's having an existential crisis in the dorm right now and to be honest, Y/n, I'm so sick of pretending I don't know you've been head over heels in love with him for what feels like years." Your brother always sounds serious, but this time it scares you a little. Your arms drop to your side.
"Would you let me date James if I liked him?" You ask cautiously. 
"I couldn't exactly stop you," Remus shrugs and looks away a moment, "Who am I to dictate your life." You see a small smile curl his lips, "Plus, James is an idiot but he's harmless. I've never seen him so genuine."
You perk up, "Yeah?"
Remus turns to you and reaches out to hold your shoulders, "Yeah. You should talk to him. He's convinced you're in love with Regulus." Your smile disappears. 
"Oh, yeah, Regulus." 
"You aren't in love with him, are you?" Remus asks, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
"Of course not!" You stutter, "I mean — I did like him for a moment but I've always liked James more. And I'm not exactly Regulus's type, y'know…" You admit in a whisper, knowing Remus knows exactly what you mean. 
Remus smiles and nods. You look up at him and see his eyes shimmer, "If you've been holding back from liking James because of me, don't." He says sincerely, "He could make you happy, I know that."
You look at your brother's expression. He's completely serious. You look away and think back to James's confession: Y/n/n, you should be with me, not him. Your cheeks burn just remembering his words. You turn your head to your brother and nod, smiling. Remus drops his hands on your shoulders and lets you sprint up the stairs. 
You barely make it to your brother's dorm when the door opens and James comes out. Your forehead hits his and the momentum causes him to fall backward.
You yelp as James's arms wrap around your waist as he cushions your fall and smacks the back of his head on the ground. You lift yourself with your arm, your knees in between James's legs as you practically lay on top of him.
James winces and his eyes shut.
"James! Are you okay?" You pant, barely aware of the embarrassing position you're in. 
Sirius and Peter peek their heads out of the door and Sirius smirks when he sees the two of you, "I don't think Moony meant you could jump straight into this, Y/n." He jokes. 
"Shut up," James mumbles and his hand holds your back as he sits himself up. You're now sitting on your heels as you look at James with wide eyes. He looks at you too and then his thumb gently brushes over your forehead, "You're gonna form a bruise." He mutters, eyebrows scrunching. 
You smile faintly and move to adjust his glasses on his nose, "Probably from your glasses."
James stands up and helps you up with him. Your hand lingers in his and you smile faintly. 
"We should talk." You say.
"Yeah," James looks away bashfully, "Come with me." He takes your hand again and you let him steer you down the stairs. Your feet barely feel like they're on the ground as you follow him.
Your stomach is in knots when he pushes the doors to the Common Room open and you make your way down new stairs and multiple hallways. Your head is spinning.
"James?" You mutter but he continues to walk, "James! Wait." You shout in a laugh. James turns around just as you pull him closer. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears when you delicately push him towards the wall and as his back hits the wall, you press your lips on his. 
Your hands cup his cheeks and his hand lowers to your lower back as he pulls you into him. You can't help but smile into his mouth as you run your hands in his curls.
After a moment, he disconnects your lips and his thumbs rub across your cheeks as he holds them. He grins, "Since when do you know how to kiss like that?" He teases with a raised brow. 
You smirk, "Wouldn't you like to know." You kiss him again quickly.
"Y/n, be honest," James looks serious. You frown. You thought your joke was funny. "Do – did? Di- do you still like Regulus?" He tries to avert his eyes but quickly looks at you as if he simply can't look away, "I think I deserve to know," He mutters.
"Of course you do!" You look into his eyes, "And if I still had any feelings for Regulus, I wouldn't hesitate to let you know, but I don't like him – not anymore. I haven't for weeks. Regulus doesn't like girls," You explain slowly. 
James's eyes widen, "Oh. Ok." He smiles and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Good."
You giggle and kiss him again, "You're cute when you're jealous, Potter." You pause, "Cute but just a tad insane."
James frowns, "You'd go insane too, if you were me." 
You grin, "Perhaps I would." You tease him and look at him adoringly, "You won't make me find out will you?"
James returns your grin and wraps his arms around you. He kisses your forehead and says, 
 "Never, my love." 
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king-of-horny · 19 days
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Regulus: when I get married, will you walk me down the aisle?
Sirius: *holding back tears* yes
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suugarbabe · 8 months
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Unexpected | m.r x reader
prompt: Hii! How are you? This is my first time sending an ask and I just wanted to say that I love your writings! May I ask for a enemies to lovers with Mattheo Riddle? The reader is from the golden trio and they get into an argument with a lot of chemistry and tension. Thank you and I'm sorry for my bad english.
maybe enemies to lovers, like they hate each other and then realize that they are soulmates and then have to figure out what to do. some angst but ends i fluff please 
word count: ~3.8k
warnings: slight angst feeling, fluff, e2l, soulmate trope, some heavy petting
an: so there's no argument like the prompt asks (sorry) but when I started writing it just kind of flowed out this way so hopefully it's still okay.
“Go on, show us again,” Ron Weasley was shaking a turkey leg in your general direction, asking to see the words that appeared on your arm this morning. In the wizarding world, on the day you were going to properly meet your soulmate, the first sentence they speak to you, excluding their name, will appear on your forearm in their handwriting. 
It was incredibly annoying to you that Ron and Hermione got this mess out of the way the first day on the bloody train. To your and Harry’s amusement, neither were originally excited about the match, but after the chaos that ensued for the four of you by the end of that year they were inseparable. Nothing brings two people closer than tragedy. 
Things got even more frustrating for you when Harry and Ginny realized they were soulmates, leaving you the lone wolf in your foursome. Entering your sixth year this year you were hopeful that maybe you would finally be able to find out who your soulmate was, roughly three fourths of those leave Hogwarts knowing who they’re intended to be with, and you would rather Avada Kadavera yourself then leave your seventh year soulmateless. 
You grabbed the sleeve of your jumper, tugging it up to your elbow, sticking your arm out in the middle of the table for your three friends to view. There on your arm read a singular sentence, do I intimidate you, love?
Hermione sat back on the bench, “His handwriting really is awful, whoever he is.” You scoffed at your friend, “Not exactly my biggest concern, Mione. More worried about why he thinks he would intimidate me? Who would even think that? By this point in our school life you’d think any of us were more intimidating than the majority of the student body.” 
“Yeah, except Slytherin,” Harry snorted, Ron following with his own round of laughter. But you weren’t laughing, you were looking at Hermione who was sporting the same grimace and worried eyes that you were sure your face looked like. 
Harry and Ron looked at each other, then looked at the two of you. “It was a joke, y/n/n,” Harry tried to ease the tension that was building. “Yeah, I mean, y’don't really think your soulmate might be…one of them,” Ron was anything but subtle with his tone of disgust, as well as his entire body turning around to face the Slytherin table. 
Ron’s actions didn’t go unnoticed by a particular group of Slytherin boys. “Staring problem, Weasley? Got a crush?” Malfoy shouted across the dining hall, earning laughs and teasing hollars from his friends. 
“Oi, Malfoy, got a present for you,” you stuck your hand in your school bag, pretending to roam around before pulling your hand back out and lifting it high in the air, giving Malfoy the middle finger. His face immediately turned into a scowl. The boy next to him, however, pretended to catch your gesture in the air and put it in his pocket, winking at you in the process. 
You rolled your eyes, turning to Hermione who had a look of disgust on her face, “Riddle’s ego really is massive innit.” All three of your friends' heads began to nod. “I swear if he didn’t verbalize how much he bloody hated us I would think he was flirting with you y/n/n.” 
“Shut it, Weasley, don’t you put that on me,” you pointed your finger at him, tone joking but words serious. He put his hands up in defense, laughing along with the rest of your friends as you all gathered your things and headed towards your first class. 
Unbeknownst to you, a similar conversation was being had at the Slytherin table. “Glad to see meeting your soulmate hasn’t deterred you from trying to flirt with anything that breathes,” Pansy took a sip of her pumpkin juice, teasing the curly haired boy across from her. 
“Dunno what you mean, Pans,” the dimples on Mattheo’s cheeks popping out as he smirked. 
“Show us your arm again, cousin,” Draco’s words causing everyone to look at Mattheo now. The younger boy scowled, rolling up the sleeve of his dress shirt. There on his arm, in beautiful loopy script were the words you’ve got to be fucking joking.
Theo couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a foul word in such pretty handwriting.” 
Mattheo rolled his eyes, pulling his sleeve back down, “Yeah, well let’s just hope the bird is someone I can tolerate.” 
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You let out a long groan, hands rubbing up and down your face as you leaned your elbows on your knees . Hermione was sat next to you in the common room, rubbing up and down your back, “The day’s not over quite yet, y/n/n. It wouldn’t appear if you weren’t gonna meet them today.” 
“Yeah,” Ron put on his best attempt at an encouraging smile, “maybe they’re another Gryffindor and you’ll meet them before we go to bed.” Harry nodded next to him in agreement. 
You stood up, grabbing your jumper off the arm of the couch and throwing it on, “M’gonna go for a walk.” 
Hermione’s lips downturned, “It’s nearly curfew.” You sighed, looking over at Harry. “I’ll go get my cloak,” he sighed, standing and walking quickly to his dorm room. 
After Harry’s return you thanked him, spending an extra twenty minutes convincing Hermione that you would be the utmost cautious and affirmed to Ron that you would stash the cloak if you were to be caught. 
Now you were quietly climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower. When you got to the top, you did a quick look over the railing. With no sign of Filch anywhere you dropped the cloak, laying it on the floor so you didn’t have to sit on the bare ground. 
As you got comfortable you dug in your shirt, pulling out a spliff. Hermione would murder you if she found out you smoked, however the year you all had to study for your O.W.L’s, you were so stressed you ended up buying from Theo Nott.
He promised to keep it to himself and you promised it was a one time thing, but you found yourself buying from him every couple months. You weren't sure if she would be more disappointed in your smoking, or you interacting with someone in the forbidden Slytherin group.
You mumbled a short incendio before taking a long drag. You blew the smoke out slowly, watching it ripple through the air and up into the night sky. You looked up at the stars, knowing the day was likely to be over soon and wondering if you were the only witch that was destined to not run into their soulmate like everyone else. 
You were lost in your thoughts and self pity. So much so you didn’t even hear someone come up the tower steps until they hit the top. You scrambled to your feet, ready to cover yourself with the cloak when you realized it wasn’t Filch, but a boy instead. 
The dark of the night made it difficult for you to see exactly who it was at first, that and the fact that every time he took a step forward you seemed to take a step back until your back was against the stone wall. When he finally stepped into the light, your breath caught in your throat. Standing in front of you, signature smirk adoring his face was Mattheo Riddle. 
You stayed rigid against the wall as he got closer to you. His fingers brushed yours as he took the spliff, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling. His eyes never left yours as he turned his head slightly, blowing the smoke into the night. His eyes traveled over you, taking in your black sleep shorts and house jumper. When he looked at your face again he locked eyes with you, almost like he was trying to read what was going on in your brain. 
“Do I intimidate you, love?” The words seemed to leave his lips without a second thought and you felt like your chest was going to cave in. There was just no way, absolutely bloody not that he said those words, the words you had been anticipating someone to say all day. Him of all people that could’ve spoken them. 
He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly looking for you to answer. Instead of some sputtering response of nervousness like Mattheo was expecting, your face just dropped. 
“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” Mattheo’s face went white after you responded, and that was all the evidence you needed to confirm that Mattheo fucking Riddle was your soulmate. He hated you. You hated him. How could two people that despise each other be destined to be soulmates?
"What are you even doing up here?" You crossed your arms over your chest, sitting into your hip. His smirk only seemed to grow, "I think the better question is what are you doing up here, partaking in drugs no less? Little miss golden girl."
You rolled your eyes, "What's that supposed to mean, Riddle?" Mattheo's jaw clenched, "It's Mattheo. And you know what it means. Wonder what everyone would think if they knew little miss perfect liked to come up to the astronomy tower to get high."
"Why would anyone believe you over me?" You were acting a little cocky now, but Mattheo was right in the aspect that you and your friends were seen in an overall more positive light than he and his.
However the look on Mattheo's face made you think he knew something you didn't, "I guess I could just have your dealer tell everyone, or are you buying from someone besides Nott these days?"
He was irritating you on purpose now. You grabbed the spliff back from Mattheo, going to sit where you were before but now leaning your forehead against the railing, “This is got to be some kind of mistake.” 
Mattheo could only snicker as he went to sit next to you, hanging his arms over the raining as he looked over the grounds, “S’destiny love, no mistake about it.” 
“Thanks so much, you’re being really encouraging about this whole thing,” you rolled your eyes, holding your hand out to him. He took it from you, filling his lungs with smoke again, passing it back and forth throughout the conversation. 
Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “At least we’re both fit.” You snorted at this, “Who said I thought you were fit?” He scoffed, “Please, I’ve seen the way you ogle me.” You found yourself laughing, a true full belly head thrown back laugh before you looked at him and he thought the smile you were wearing was actually kind of cute, “How would you know that unless you were ogling me, hmm?”
Mattheo opened his mouth to respond, but found he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse before you were speaking again. The sigh you let out let him know how stressed you really were, “Our friends are not going to like this.” 
He nodded, smoke billowing out of his mouth as he spoke, “Merlin, no. They’re going to bloody hate it. But s’not like it was really our choice.” You knew he was right, and you knew he was trying to be comforting, but the tone in his voice let you know that he was just as worried to let his group of friends know as much as you were. 
You opened your mouth to respond to him when you heard the all too familiar jingle of Mrs. Norris’ collar sounding like she was ascending the stairs. Your eyes grew wide as you and Mattheo both jumped to your feet. It looked like Mattheo is contemplating jumping over the tower railing when you grab his arm to push him flat against the stone wall. 
He looked at you with utter confusion as you grabbed the cloak before turning around and pushing your back flush against his chest. “What are you-”
“Shut it,” you cut him off, indicating to him to wrap his arms around your waist as you threw the cloak over the pair of you. As the cat walked on to the tower landing you felt Mattheo’s arms tighten around you, doing his best to pull you impossibly closer. 
He was decently taller than you, having to duck down slightly so the cloak covered you both properly. His face was tucked in close to your neck. His breath warm and tickling your skin as Filch followed after his beloved pet, glancing around for anything out of place. 
When he was satisfied, Filch turned around to leave, letting his cat lead the way. You waited a few beats, making sure they were nearly to the bottom of the staircase before pulling the cloak off the two of you and pushing Mattheo’s hands off of your body. 
“Thing comes in handy, that,” he pointed to the cloth in your hand. You chucked, “Yeah, m’sure your lot would get a lot less detentions if you had one.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Yeah, we can’t all be like the golden quartet.” 
You scoffed slightly at this as you headed down the stairs, Mattheo close behind you, “We didn’t give ourselves that nickname, you know.” He couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah but m’sure you all don’t mind it. Definitely gets you some favoritism.” 
You stopped at the end of the corridor, Mattheo running into your back at the action and cursing. You turned to face him, “You know, my friends and I have endured a hell of a lot of shite over the last couple years, maybe we deserve a little break when we’re actually able to do normal bloody teenage things.” 
As much as you were trying to be harsh with him, be the slightest bit intimidating, his height gave him all the advantage. Mattheo knew what you meant, what you were saying without saying the words themselves. “I’m not like him. Don’t clump me in your same category of hatred. He’s done things to me too,” his eyes reflected a bit of hurt as he spoke and you knew he was telling the truth. 
Everyone in school assumed Mattheo was just like his father, held the same ideals and wanted the same things for the wizarding world. The look you were seeing on his face told you otherwise. Your frustration quickly fizzled, instead turning into something closer to pity, “M’sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” he deadpanned, “Let’s just get back to our common rooms.” You walked together in silence until you had no choice but to split off. You agreed to meet each other in the courtyard during lunch the next day and you were racking your brain on how you were going to break this news to Harry, Hermione and Ron.
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To say you were nervous was an understatement. When you broke the news to your friends about who your soulmate ended up being it wasn’t exactly well received. Hermione was worried, but understanding of the fact that you had no choice in the matter. Harry was upset, but again was trying his best to be mature and said he wouldn’t interfere with you spending some time with Mattheo to get to know him better. Ron took it the worst, which you wished surprised you but he did have a flair for the dramatics.
You were first waiting for Mattheo on a bench in the courtyard, but you couldn’t stop your legs from bouncing, therefore you found a place beneath a tree, attempting to read the same three lines of a book Hermione had loaned you the other day. 
When Mattheo found you and finally sat down next to you, you shut your book immediately, letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank Godric, you’re here.” It didn’t go unnoticed by you the way a pair of dimples christened his cheeks, “Miss me already, pretty girl? S’barely been twelve hours.” 
You shoved his shoulder lightly, trying to resist the pink that tinted your cheeks at the nickname he used, “Not at all, I’ve been sitting here for the better part of twenty minutes, mind you. Thought maybe you decided to ditch me.” Mattheo shrugged, “M’always late. You’re gonna have to get used to that. And I would never ditch you, we’re soulmates, love. You’re stuck with me for life.” 
He had a childlike grin on his face when he said that latter part and you couldn’t help the slight notion of butterflies that seemed to flutter in your stomach or the smile that appeared on your face.
All last night you thought it was going to be difficult to fall for Mattheo, but maybe the universe knew something when it paired you two together. 
“So how did your friends take the news?” You tried to keep voice neutral, but you really were worried about their responses. Mattheo leaned back against the tree, “They were shocked for sure, Draco took it the hardest. He was more worried about having to spend more time with Potter than me being with you though. Told him that would probably be more rare than he anticipated. W’bout yours?”
You nodded, “Not as bad as I thought, actually. Mione was understanding, as always. Harry was actually pretty good about it, but very skeptical. Ron actually took it the worst, but he’s just protective. Basically like me brother.” 
“How d’ya mean?” 
You leaned back against the tree yourself, shoulder to shoulder now with Mattheo. You could feel the heat radiating off of him and you wondered if his skin was always warm to the touch, “Both my parents are aurors so they travel a lot. They didn’t think it was safe for me to go with them, so Ron’s mum offered for me to stay at theirs whenever it was needed. Turns out it was needed more times than not growing up.” 
Mattheo nodded, listening intently as you spoke. You both started asking surface questions about each other; favorite color (he said black), favorite hobby (quidditch), favorite class (free period). 
When both your friend groups came looking for you after lunch period Mattheo asked if you would go to Hogsmead with him over the weekend. You agreed, finding yourself wanting to get to know more about him. Over the next two months you went to Hogsmead with Mattheo at least one day during each weekend. 
You slowly learned that his favorite candy was fizzing whizbees, having to stop at Honeydukes every trip for him to grab some. You learned that he was actually very intelligent even though he tried to seem like he wasn't, as he was passing all of his classes even though he skipped half of them. You learned that even though Draco was older than him, he felt like an older brother to his cousin. And maybe your favorite thing that you learned, purely on accident, was that if you squeeze just above his hip that he was incredibly ticklish. 
Throughout all of this you still hadn’t kissed. You kept telling yourself (and your friends) that you didn’t want to, but the more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for it. There were times of lingering touches; his hand on your lower back as he guided you into a building, his fingertips brushing yours as you walked, his leg pressing against yours while you sat next to each other in the courtyard or at the Three Broomsticks. 
Hermione, the ever observant friend that she was, noticed your shift in attitude towards Mattheo even before you did. So when she cornered you in the common room, demanding you tell her your true feelings it was almost a relief to let it all out. 
“I think I might actually like him, Mione. Like, I know that sounds like something an insane person would say, that they like Mattheo Riddle, like romantically, like someone who isn’t just some daft bimbo, but there's just so much more to him that he lets people see.”
Hermione can’t help but laugh, “I get what you mean. Harry and Ron are coming around, you know. They see how happy you look when you’re with him.” 
You tilt your head slightly at this, “What do you mean how happy I look?” 
Hermione just shakes her head with a smile, “Like you’re with your person.” You can’t escape the blush that creeps up your neck and covers your cheeks. Hermione’s giggling at you now, “Have you still not kissed him yet?” 
You scoffed, “Godric, no.” She pushed your shoulder playfully, “Well why not, y/n/n? Don’t you want to?” 
You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers, “I mean…I think so? But he just hasn’t really…gone for it, you know?” 
She nodded in solidarity, “Oh I know, trust me. I had to make the first move with Ronald. Maybe you have to do the same thing?” 
You contemplated her words. They invaded a space in your brain for the rest of the night, then the rest of the next morning, and through dinner, and even now as you stood leaning against the railing in the astronomy tower waiting for Mattheo to meet you. 
When you heard him coming up the steps you turned only to see him with the sweetest smile on his face. “Hey pretty girl,” he greeted as he enveloped you in a hug. “Hi, Teo,” you had donned the nickname on him your third or so time at Hogsmead. He gave you a good squeeze before letting go, his arms still lingering on your waist with yours around his neck, “What’d you wanna talk about?” 
His question was innocent, no implications in his voice that he expected anything beyond you wanting to see him. With Hermione’s advice in the back of your head you knew you needed to just act, as any more talking might lead to you psyching yourself out. 
You slid your hands down from his neck, grasping lightly to the lapel of his blazer. He raised his eyebrows slightly at the action, the smallest of smirks on his face. 
Without giving yourself time to overthink you pull him into you, lips crashing against yours. He’s shocked at first, but just for a moment before he responds, walking you back until you’re pressed against the stone wall.
One of his hands slides up your body, ghosting over your stomach and the valley of your breasts before settling lightly on your neck. The implication of the hand gesture makes you whimper slightly and Mattheo takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly at the curls.
When he finally pulls away you find yourself chasing his lips and he smiled at the reaction. “I think I could kiss you forever,” his forehead is resting against yours, lips still so close you can feel his breath on your own. “Yeah?” you laugh a little, smile only increasing when he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Yeah, pretty girl. Forever.”
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jamespotterbbg · 2 months
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my roman empire is that the actors for sirius and remus thought they were portraying a couple.
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ageofstarkey · 8 months
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lucky i love you ✰ m. riddle
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summary: you and matthéo had an argument the night before, and he still hasn’t apologized.
pairing: bf!matthéo riddle x reader
warnings: hmmm maybe slightly toxic matthéo?? lowkey?? idk y’all can decide for yourselves!! slight angst, nothing else really??
note: okay i don’t love the ending but i still think it’s cute so i’m posting anyway!!! i’m such a sucker for slightly toxic matthéo who’s soft for u and u only :’)
masterlist
reblogs & comments are so appreciated! <3
✰ ✰ ✰
“is there a reason you’re not talking to me?”
you startle softly at the sound of matthéo’s voice. you’d been intently ignoring him since he found you in the library, still quietly hurt about what he’d said the night before.
every inch of you longs to give in - you were never very good at staying mad at him - but you stubbornly refuse to move a muscle, lips turned downwards in a barely-there pout. you flick your eyes upwards, but only for a moment, offering him a shrug.
matthéo sighs in this defeated way that tugs at your heart. “i can’t make things better if you don’t tell me what i’ve done wrong, sweetheart.”
it’s your turn to sigh. when you look back up, you let your gaze linger - far past the point of caring if matthéo sees the stubborn little tears that pool in your waterline. “you should know what you did wrong, théo. i shouldn’t have to tell you.”
he’s silent for a few moments, before a look of understanding settles on his handsome features. “are you still upset about last night?”
another shrug. you can’t bring yourself to respond. you want him, no - you need him to piece it together for himself.
suddenly, matthéo’s chair scrapes loudly against the floor. he’s behind you in a few quick steps, and then you’re gasping sharply as he drags your chair away from the table. “matthéo! what are you-” he spins the chair suddenly towards himself, before crouching on the ground at your feet.
“darling - i’m sorry.” his hands find your thighs, fingers gripping firmly at the soft flesh as he looks up at you. “i’m sorry for being an arse, and i’m sorry for not apologizing sooner.” his thumbs trace absentminded circles into your skin as he speaks. “you haven’t done anything wrong - merlin, i don’t think you could ever do anything wrong - and i’m sorry for treating you the way i did.”
you open your mouth once, twice - trying to respond - but you can’t seem to find the right words. a lone little tear rolls slowly down your cheek, and matthéo’s quick to swipe it away with his thumb. with a sad little smile, and a softness in his eyes that seems to be reserved for you alone, he continues. “i know i’m not good at… at this - at being a boyfriend - but i am trying. and i promise that i’ll get it right it eventually.”
you’re silent for a few moments, but your lips tug upwards in a fond little grin you can’t seem to suppress. with a shake of your head, you place your hands on either side of matthéo’s face, leaning down to kiss him softly. “you are so lucky i love you, riddle.” your words are murmured softly against his lips, but you feel his smile and know he hears you.
“i know”
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sykostyles · 1 month
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subject to change 1.0
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wc: 6.4k summary: in which Y/N is a fairly inexperienced romance author, and Harry is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan. What happens when he offers her one night to experience some of the things she’s written about? part two
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a/n: hi there! can you tell I'm ovulating? that is the only explanation I have for this one. big shouts to my mootite patootie @celestie0 for being a real girls girl and being my beta reader and personal hype woman! she read the whole thing and she doesn't even like Harry like that! Ellie is a real one. (check out her story kickoff rn!🔪)
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cw: bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, there’s a lot okay reader be warned.
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“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 
“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny, your publicist excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.
“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer 
“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”
“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 
“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 
“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 
“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 
You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.
“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Harry’s House in big yellow bubble letters on the wall. 
Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with emerald eyes, dark chestnut curls, glasses pushed atop his head, and a smile plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.
“M’ Harry. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?
“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?
“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.
“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.
“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.
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After your sit down meeting with Harry and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Harry asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.
You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 
“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.
“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.
“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.
“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.
“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?
“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.
“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.
You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”
“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 
“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.
“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 
The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.
“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.
“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.
“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.
“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.
He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”
“Harry. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”
“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 
“You sound so romantic, Harry,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.
“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.
“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.
You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Harry all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 
He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Harry may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.
After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.
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The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing,
Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.
The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”
Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.
His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 
Your breath hitches.
“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”
A whimper escapes you in response.
“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.
Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 
Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 
That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”
Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Harry withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”
His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 
“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.
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Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Harry’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”
Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.
“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.
“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.
“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Harry keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.
Harry maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 
“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.
“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.
“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.
Harry smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.
His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Harry slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 
Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.
Harry settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your lips apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; a thin layer of sweat forming. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface
“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.
“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”
“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.
“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.
“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.
“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”
“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.
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He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.
“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 
Harry reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.
“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..
“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 
“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.
“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.
“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 
You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.
“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”
His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.
“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.
“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.
“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”
“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Harry stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 
You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.
“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.
“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.
You smile.
“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.
“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 
“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 
“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”
“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 
“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”
You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Harry after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.
“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.
“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”
“C-can you touch m-me, please?”
“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 
“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”
“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”
“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”
Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Harry’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.
“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.
“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Harry groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Harry’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”
Harry eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.
“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”
“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 
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“So, was that everything you wanted?” Harry asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.
“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.
“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 
Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 
Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.
“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.
“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 
“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 
“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?
“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 
You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.
Harry’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 
“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.
“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.
“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’s gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.
“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy; up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Harry. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.
“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.
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“You sure you have everything?” Harry asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.
“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?
“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 
How dare he.
“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.
“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.
“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Harry. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.
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c/n: oh my what a ride, right? this is not the last of our brooding pair. you'll see the ending of their story soon!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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missmielyhoran · 11 days
Text
Familiarity
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in which you and Harry have a strange relationship...
Sugar Daddy!Harry Styles × Sugar Baby!Reader
[Warning- Angst, Little fluff, children, sadness, Harry being filthy rich]
Masterlist
*****
You were painting your nails when you heard the knock on the door. You got up from the floor fanning your hands in the air to dry down the nails.
You opened the door and there he was the same old man who visits you every weekend. Alberto, his name, you got to know after a few weeks in.
He hands you a new bag full of brand new clothes like every weekend, you take them with a smile and close the door as he starts ascending down the stairs.
You set the bag down on the floor where you were sitting previously when your phone buzzed. You picked it up from the floor and looked at the text sent by him.
Be ready at 5.
That was all it was, always. He was never the man of many words you got to know. You sighed as you took out the outfit he sent you this time.
It was an oversized sweater and a plaid skirt. This weirded you out at first. You expected a sexy lingerie or dress at first, but he never sent you anything like that. It was always casual outfits like this.
The clock stared back at you. It was 3 already, and if you didn't want to be late, you had to get up and get ready.
You had whole weeks to yourself but weekends you had to day how he wanted you to, every single step. He gave you shampoo, to body wash, skincare everything and that only reserved for weekends. Yes, if you liked something you could use it everyday and he paid for everything and even more.
He was sort of like your sugar daddy, well who were you kidding you did found him on sugar daddy website. Well not you technically, it was your best friend, Taylor. She was the one who suggested you go on the website when you were struggling to pay for your college, she was also the one who found him.
You couldn't even say no when you saw him. Those beautiful eyes held so much familiarity that you just couldn't.
He pays for you everything, from college to your groceries, everything anything. In return, you just had to play dress up and go on a date with him, not even sex which you were mentally prepared for, well sort of.
You got on with your usual routine of showering, washing your hair, putting on moisturizer, sunscreen, and then getting started with the same makeup you always did on weekends for him. Simple makeup, no foundation, and a bold red lip.
Soon enough, it was 5, and Alberto was on your doorstep, ready to take you with him. You got in the car. Very luxury car, something you only saw in your dreams.
Your heart was racing, even though it was a deal which you have been doing for the past 7 months you didn't know when it became more than that.
I mean, can you blame the girl for falling for a tall, hot, rich, generous man? with eyes like his? you were bound to.
Car stopped, and so did you thoughts. Alberto stood with open door, you got out and saw what was a small restaurant nothing fancy but not bad, it looked cozy.
You walked inside and saw it was empty, all the chairs were made but not a single person was there not even staff, from what you could see and guess with your intuition of knowing him for past 7 months, there was not more than 3 to 4 staff inside.
There, he was sitting on the bar stool, the lights from the small bar illuminating his side profile. His messy hair fell on his face just right, his ring cladded fingers holding the whiskey glass. He was dressed in nothing fancy himself, a simple orange sweater, and blue jeans.
You slid in beside him, catching his attention. His face lit up in a smile, and you just melted.
"You're here" He said, breathing out looking at you up and down. Your cheeks turned flaming red under gaze, "You look beautiful" He said, looking up into your eyes.
"Thank you" You mumble out. You didn't know why you felt this shy. You should be used to it by now, but his charm, his face, his hair, everything just made you fall and fall deeper.
You guys talked like you do, him telling you all about his week from his hectic work, the meetings, the annoying investors, to his daughter going through her runner phase.
Oh yes, he has a daughter, Aira who is 7 and going through her runner phase. She runs anywhere and everywhere whenever she gets a chance.
He shows you the pic of her showing off the teeth she lost yesterday, and you smiled. She had his eyes and curls and was an adorable child. He always kept you updated on her every single detail about her, and it never felt odd. Which you should have cause she was a stranger's child, to be honest, but she felt like your own.
It was late when you stumbled out of the bar with him. His arms around your torso holding you so you wouldn't fall down on your face.
You squealed when he picked you up in a swing, followed by a hearty laugh, which made him laugh also.
It felt like this had been happening for so long, not just 7 months or so but forever. It was as if he had been picking you up like this for years, but it wasn't. Was it?
It further got proven when he called you the name he always does, "Cherry". It would've been cute if you would've fed into your delusions and thought it was a nickname he gave you, but no.
The contract, the talk, you weren't here on a real date with him no, you were playing a part. You were not you but Cherry, his first love the one he couldn't have.
He slid in beside you, his arms around your shoulders. You put your head on his and closed your eyes. You wanted to sleep, fall into a deep slumber with his smell all around you forgetting who and what you were here for just him and him only.
So, you did. You fell asleep.
Harry smiled when he saw you fell asleep on his shoulder. It was your usual habit, every car ride no matter how long or short you fall asleep.
He sighed as he pushed some hair away from your face, your cheeks still red from all the booze, you were never one to hold liquor.
It was a sweet torture for him, this whole thing, this whole persona, yours and his both.
Alberto stopped the car in front of your apartment complex that was also chosen by him. He got out first carefully not to wake you up and rounded around to your side and picked you up to start to walk towards your apartment.
The familiarity of those steps always made him tear up, can't blame a guy for being emotional, right?
The routine had become so usual for him that he could do it with his eyes closed.
So, he opened the door, walked towards your room, and set you down on the bed. He took off your shoes and jewelries he knew you don't wear every day and set them on your nightstand.
Taking off his sweater, he walked out of the room to get some water when he heard the sound. He looked down and saw the cat circling around his legs purring.
"Yes Evie, still doing your witchcraft, huh?" He said, chuckling. He sat down and gave her all the belly rubs and scratches, "You being a good girl for Mama? I know you are" He said, kissing her forehead and getting up.
He took out the cold water bottle from the fridge, knowing you would have a headache in the morning.
He set everything on the nightstand and then slid in beside you. You smell engulfed him, and he melted into the bed.
For the first hour, he just watched you sleep. Was it creepy? totally, but he couldn't help it. He never could.
His phone buzzed, taking him out of the trance. He smiled when he saw the selfie Aira had sent him with her gummy smile.
Grandma made me pancakes for dinner.
How much did you bribe her darling?
I didn't! She loves me
That is true. Still
When you will be back Dada?
On Monday morning love
Okay
He heard the voice note say. She still couldn't type properly, but god did she sent him voicenotes.
Are you with Mama?
His heart stopped for a second as he looked over at you sleeping beside him. It was a difficult situation. It was difficult for an adult while she was just a kid. He couldn't even think how she was coping.
Yes my love.
Tell her I love her and miss her.
I will. Now go to sleep or I will sell all your toys.
He chuckled when a shrill No came in the reply. He put the phone down and shifted closer to you and brought you into his arms, and as always, you fitted right into it.
He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, "One day Cherry. One day you will remember me"
*****
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I think my writing is getting a bit rusty. It's not that good but I wanted to write it so yeah
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Text
THE DARKEST HELL
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Summary: Y/N finds someone in her room at night during the Christmas season. Is he the demon from her old Nanny's fairytales?
Warnings: Smut (obviously) , name calling, spanking, yk the whole shebang. Mention of blood. Rough (as in, really rough) sex. Wrap it before you tap it. Also, these pictures were downloaded from Pinterest, don't sue us🥲 Pic credits to owners.
Word count: 5.4k
A/n: Hey guyssss we're back with a oneshot. This is our entry for @watchmegetobsessed 's #fanficmas2022
(This is basically smut with no plot lol, G went feral with it)
Anyway here's, 5.4k of pure smut😚❤️ Enjoyyyy
Xoxo
G and M
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The ambient darkness spread across the horizon. The moon was nowhere to be found. There were owls hooting outside. Y/N felt like she was in a horror movie . Her mother had always warned her not to listen to Grandma's horror stories. Well, she was not technically Y/N’s granny; she was the one who looked after her when her parents weren't around; she was her nanny but Y/N loved her like her own grandmother. Her parents were always travelling for work related things and were hardly home. They were busy making money and reputation while Y/N was abandoned like an orphan. They provided her with everything but it was not the same as having her parents around. She had studied well and had entered into a prestigious university. She chose to study psychology, the wonders of the human mind had never failed to amuse her.
Laying on her bed, Y/n contemplated her life. Life had always been difficult for her. Breaking up with her now ex boyfriend was just the icing on the cake. Her best friend Danny was the only relief in her crestfallen life. She slowly drifted off to sleep.
She woke up abruptly at the sound of thunderbolts in the night sky . Electric lightning zipped across the sky like fireworks.Terrified would be an understatement to explain her predicament. Shadows of her own room illuminated in the lighting and it appeared more and more disturbing. She felt like she was immobile. Is this what they call sleep paralysis? She could feel a menacing presence of something that wasn't supposed to be there. She wanted to run outside and scream but she couldn't. Another roar of thunder.
"Oh God! " She screamed.
"God isn't coming for your help, darling, " a hoarse voice replied.
"Who are you?" She asked. A gravelly laugh was the reply.
In the dark she could make out the shadow of her intruder, thanks to the lightning. Another thunder bolted.
"Please don't kill me", she cried.
Her intruder came closer this time. She found that he was around six feet and sculpted, not in a way that Protein shakes and gym do. He was wearing a black cloak with a hood. It covered his entire face. A sword hung dangerously on his hip. It felt like hanging the sword of Democles above her head because she knew that it was going to be her last night on earth.Even if she tried to fight with this intruder, it wouldn't last long, he was armed and she was alone .
"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it while you were asleep, darling. Why waste time fighting with you?" He seemed calm and collected unlike her mind, which had a raging storm inside that made the thunderstorm outside look less terrific. The rumbling sound of the thunder brought back her attention to the intruder.
"Then why are you here? Wait, what are you wearing?" She did not mean to ask that question out loud, it was a slip of the tongue.
"That's what we wear in our land." He confirmed.
"Who wears a cloak in the 21st century? Are you out of your mind? ", she laughed
Then it clicked.
" They come wearing black cloaks and a sword with two serpents on its handle. The hilt of the sword has an emerald stone in the middle. Every year before Christmas they will visit, to mark all your sins. They are the incarnations of all seven deadly sins, they're the commanders of the Devil himself.”
“Who?”
“The Angel who was cast out of heaven for rebelling against God.”
“ What was his name again?”
“Lucifer”, Grandma whispered.
“Lucifer”, Y/n confirmed.
“Don't say his name aloud princess. He'll come and take you to his place.”
“And where is his place?” Y/n couldn't contain her excitement. She was mesmerised by the tale of God and Lucifer, an angel who lost his place for disobeying The Mighty Creator.
“It's said in Isaiah 14:12 that after becoming Satan by his fall, Lucifer "goeth up and down, to and fro in the earth, seeking to destroy the souls of men".
“So he wanders around. Does he not have a palace or something?”
"He has, Princess. A palace and an army of soldiers beneath the Earth, a distant land of shadows, where the dead and the sinned will go."
She voyaged through the memory lane, a conversation with her grandma long ago .
"Are you the fallen angel ?" She asked, petrified.
"You need to be specific, darling."He said with pure amusement.
"Are you …..",she swallowed her own words .
"Are you Lucifer? " She finally plucked up the courage to ask him .
"No, I Am not ."His words are nonchalant like he does this kind of conversation everyday.
"No I'm not a robber, we have enough resources in our land. We are immune to the earthly pleasure of money." He mused.
"Can you read my mind?" She was genuinely surprised.
"Yeah we could do that "
"We? Are you not alone? How many people have you brought to kill me? Please don't kill me. I'll do anything, please."
She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, she was afraid, alone and did not even know the purpose of her intruder. A hand reached her chin.
"I'm not here to kill you Y/N ." He said, his sound raspy, thick and delicious. His fingers that were now wiping her tears electrified her whole body. He slowly reached for the bedside lamp and switched it on. She covered her eyes with her hands at the sudden sensitivity of light. Slowly opening her eyes, she noticed that her intruder no longer had a hood over his head. He was dangerously handsome.This guy was dangerous in more ways than she could fathom. She gripped her hands together anticipating him to snap at her or beat her up. But nothing happened, he stared at her, his jawline impossibly sharp, his lips thin and rosy, eyes as deep as the green ocean. His long hair was tied in a half bun. He stared at her with an expression of a predator looking at its prey. His eyes burned into her like he could see her soul. She thought she would turn into ashes soon, if he continued to stare at her like this.
"I will never hurt you. Maybe I will hurt you, but not in the way you think . I'll make sure you will enjoy every inch of your misery."
His lips curled up in a sinful manner. Her eyes zeroed in on his lips. Her tongue darted out and licked her own lips wishing that she could taste those dangerous lips that were only a few centimetres away from her. His aura was black, much blacker than the colour of his cloak.
"Stop tempting me, darling, or I'll have to grant your wish and I swear, once I get a taste of those pretty lips of yours, I won’t be able to stop. "
The air suddenly became so hot .The look on his face suggested that he'll do everything he said if she allowed. It sent a spark down her spine. A part of her was frightened, another part elated.
"You wish", She wanted to sound angry but it came out only as a breathy whisper.
"I don't have to wish, darling, I can see you thinking about it." His voice was hoarse, and the looks he gave her were primal and animalistic. It shook her defences. But she couldn't be defeated by an intruder, now could she?
"Who are you ?"She queried.
"I am Harry, The Lord of Lust ,The second commander of the Devil Lucifer himself." At Least he's not the Devil. But the dangerous aura around him and his serpent eyes excited her. She felt like a child again, in her bed listening to stories from her grandma , going to the darkest places in her mind and discovering something new every time. This was something terrific, yet it excited her all the same.
“Are you an angel like Lucifer, a fallen angel from heaven? " she asked out of curiosity.
"No, we're created from the Devil himself. We're 7 parts of him "
"We?" She inquired .
"Yeah, seven lords for seven sins" Her grandmother had told her about the seven deadly sins from the Bible. Seven deadly sins are also called seven cardinal sins. In Roman Catholic theology, they can be thought of as disposition towards sin. They are pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth.
"So you don't have an independent existence?Are you, like, sired to him?." She cross-questioned.
"Not exactly,we can have our own life ,deeds , pleasure,sins etc.But our ultimate duty is to follow the Devil's instructions." He seemed bored. Maybe he didn’t like being questioned like this . But Y/n pressed, she wanted to know.
"What happens if you don't oblige?"
Will the devil kill you? But she omitted that part for her own good.
"We'll oblige, I already said we're a part of him." He sounded certain.
"Why are you here though? "
Did the Devil send him to take her to him so that he can boil her in hot oil or peel her skin and leave it to the crocodiles ?
"There are no crocodiles in our hell. We are friendly people, you know. I am here, out of mere curiosity." He sounded amused, like he was enjoying having a conversation with her.
"Curious? Of what?"
"You"
"Me?"
"Yeah ,you"
"What have I done ?"
"You haven't done anything.Your book is empty, that's what I am curious about." He took something out of his pocket, something that looks like a book but in a black velvet cover . He put it in his hand and closed his eyes.Suddenly the page opened with her name on the top. But it was empty .
"What's this ?"
" The Book of lust.Every individual has a record of their sins recorded in their respective books. For Lust, for envy, for Pride...But yours is empty." He pronounced.
"What ?I haven't committed any sins at all ?"
"No that's not it. Maybe you have committed other sins but your book of lust is empty."He put the book back in his pocket. He was wearing a corset vest under his cloak and she could see his muscles straining inside wanting to see the light.
"Why though? I have had sex before."she felt offended all of a sudden .
"I thought about it as well and then I got my answer. Yes, you have had sex before.But have you enjoyed it? Have you done it purely to enjoy the pleasure of lust, to quench your thirst for lust? Leaving behind all your convictions and beliefs to do something dangerous?" He ran a hand through his thick hair.
"What do you mean?" She stuttered.His presence overwhelmed her and his words ,each syllable rolled out of that pretty tongue in a melodious manner.She paused her thoughts knowing well that he could read her mind. Her face became red out of embarrassment.
With a knowing smile,he continued:
"I mean, you did it as something that has to be done, not to embrace the pleasure.Enjoying the pleasure and imposing the pleasure are two different things ,darling" he did not sound mocking. But she felt humiliated.
"I see" she tried to be sarcastic, in an attempt to hide her hurt .
"What?" He asked genuinely concerned .
"I see that you're here to mock my incompetence to do the deed."she tried to jump out of the bed but his hands gripped her hand stopping her path.
" The Deed? What deed?” , he smirked.
She tried to retrieve her hand from his grip but those long fingers tightened their grip leaving it an impossible task. She felt him loosening his grip a little bit .
"I mean, you know, the deed "she closed her eyes irritatingly.
"And I'm asking you again.Use the exact words darling."
"I know you can read my thoughts. Then why are you making this hard for me,… What should I call you?"
Maybe Lord, or maybe Mr intruder or even Devil 2.O, she laughed at her own thoughts.
"You can call me Harry for now, and my lord, while we do the deed." He sounded cocky. Arrogant son of a bitch.
"Who said we're going to do the deed?"She knew she was only one step away from crossing the line .But she couldn't care less. She spent her entire life trying to be perfect, controlling her impulses. Now, a dark Angel from hell is in her room, wanting to make her commit sin and she's definitely going to fall for this temptation. She's completely aware of the fact that she's playing with fire.
"You mean the deed that involves me lifting your skimpy material that you call nightgown and spanking your ass and putting my cock inside your wet pussy until you see the stars?" His voice washed over her .
"Fuck " she was going insane.
"Exactly" He was so close that she could feel his breath fanning over her face.Her reaction was immediate, her nipples hard and panties soaking wet.
"Don't you dare plan on anything as such" suddenly she felt nervous.
"Then why am I smelling your arousal, huh? I can't control myself any longer. Do you want me to control it ,Y/N? ."His honey laced voice wrapped around her in a tight embrace. She was put into an immovable trance where she could think about nothing but him and his cock. Her breath hitched and her heart pounded in anticipation. His words set her body aflame. And God forbid she wanted to burn in that fire.
"Do you want me to control,Y/N ? Answer me "he demanded, his words dominant. It made fear wrap tightly around her like a nightgown.
"No "she whispered .
"Louder, darling "he taunted. His hands reached for her chin, forefinger running across her jaw. She shuddered under his touch.
"No," she said, grabbing all her courage.
"No, what ?"He pressed while his eyes devoured every inch of her body.She had never felt this alive.
"No , Harry"
"Not Harry, darling.Call me your Lord." a smirk adorned his lips.
"No, I don't want you to control yourself around me, My Lord." She said frustrated.
"That's my whore. "
His Whore. Never in her life had something called her something like that .So degrading, yet so possessive.
“Can I touch you now, Y/N? I need your words.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
He moved so fast when those words left her mouth. He yanked her against him. His body pressed entirely against hers. He crashed his lips against hers and she could feel herself, drowning in ecstasy. A burning desire raced through her veins. She knew kissing a total stranger was against all her principles that she followed till today. But she could care less at this point when an unexplainable euphoria had her body in its grip. Heat pooled in her lower stomach. Her core ached with pulsating need. He gripped his hand around her neck tilting it for better access. The kiss was rough. She was panting . Her heart hammered in her chest.He bit her bottom lip asking for permission which she granted him effortlessly. Their tongues fought furiously against each other for dominance.He groaned against her.
"Fu..ck" she moaned shamelessly.
He groaned in reply.His lips left hers. His thumb rubbed against her erratic pulse. Her eyes drank him.He buried his face in her neck, nipping the soft flesh with his teeth. Her hands run effortlessly in his long curls. He bit her flesh bringing tears to her eyes but the throbbing in her core intensified. He tugged his hair hard, a small moan escaping from his own lips. He shifted his hip to rub his hardness against her core .
"Now remove your clothes all by yourself and touch yourself like the whore you are." He ordered.
A breathy moan escaped her lips but she made no move. He yanked her hair, jerking back until her ear was near his mouth.
"Either you'll do it or I'll make you do it. Leave the good girl act you've been doing for years and be the whore you are." He said, nibbling on her ears. His hot breath warmed her skin. She was so absorbed by him. His words were dominant, but she felt warm and safe.
Looking straight into his eyes, she reached for the string of her nightgown .She untied it, looking straight into his eyes. She yanked it down, slowly, without even breaking eye contact.His breath heaved.He was straining painfully in his pants. The gown fell to the floor. Her panties followed it, leaving her in nothing. A cold breeze washed over her body leaving goosebumps.Her nipples hardened. His breath hitched at the sight.
"Fucking gorgeous" He groaned.
She spread herself onto the bed in front of him , giving him a clear view of her core. Her hands slowly reached for the spot. She shifted her fingers towards the throbbing spot .She pushed them inside and outside teasing herself and then increased her pace.
"Open wider " she obeyed him without another word. Her legs instantly fell further apart .She twirled her fingers around her clit faster. She could feel the sensation of an impending orgasm in her lower belly .
"Stop " he demanded. A scream of frustration left her mouth. She glared at him.
"Now beg for it " She thought he was joking but his expression said otherwise.
"No " She was not going to fall for his antics .
"I won't beg " She pressed
"Oh you will " he sounded certain.
Her gaze zeroed onto his eyes. Tension snapped between them .
He let out a small laugh.He moved so fast and closed the distance between them . She felt shy wearing nothing while he's still wearing his cloak. Reading her thoughts, he removed his cloak. He was wearing a corset vest inside it. Y/N swallowed hard at the sight of all the muscles tightly packed inside his vest. It was sleeveless, giving her a great display of his inked arms full of tattoos and some scars that only added to his beauty. He took his sword in his hands, a smirk adorning his lips indicating nothing but danger.
He pressed the hilt of the sword inside her.
"Har..ry …." Her words were cut off by the feeling of cold metal .
"My Lord" , he commanded with a hard thrust.
He thrust it in and out making her shudder under him. He worked the sword inside her, eliciting pain and pleasure at the same time.The serpent guard of the sword hit her clit every time he thrust the handle inside her. He took the sword out and she whimpered at the lack of contact . He thrust it hard this time hitting a spot that made her eyes roll back .A moan escaped her mouth.
She rolled her hips in the rhythm of the sword.
"Like that , fuck my sword like you wish to fuck me."
She was close to an orgasm. He suddenly stopped .
"Now beg for it " He barked.
"Please " she was desperate to come at this point.
"Please what?" he was not going to let it go .
"Please let me cum, my lord"
"You could do better,"he taunted .
"Please make your whore come , My Lord."
He thrust harder in reply. Slurping noises filled the room, mixed with their moans. It took only one thrust to unleash her orgasm. She screamed like she could see Hell. He rode her through her orgasm and she was a mess after she came down from her high. But she felt like it was only the beginning.
"Because I am not done with you yet”
He said, reading her thoughts.
“I want to devour you, Y/N , I want to consume you, every inch, every breath, until you're a mess who can't see anything other than me. Now, tell me, who is your Lord ,Y/N?"
“You " she closed her eyes.
"Yes, I am your lord. And what are you to me?" She opened her mouth but no words came out. He gripped her throat pressing her firmly against the headboard.
"Your whore " tears pricked her eyes.
"You're doing well, darling. I'll fuck you like every whore wants. I'll bend you over, spank you till your ass cheeks turn red; until you beg me to make you come all over my cock ."
"Please,'' she begged.
He cocked an eyebrow at her clearly not satisfied by her request .
"Please make me come again ,My Lord." She sobbed, not caring anymore.
"I will "
He removed his vest followed by his pants. He was huge and hard . She eyed every inch of his body like it was her last sight. Her gaze dropped down to his cock. Her lips parted open at the sight.
"On your knees ,Now " he commanded.
Without even hesitation she sank onto the floor. He gripped her hair to make her stare at his cock.
"Open your mouth" she obliged his commands without any complaints.
Without taking his eyes off her he slipped the cock right into her mouth slowly until it reached her throat.Her eyes teared at the size . He bucked his hips into her mouth making her gag.
"For every gag, you're going to be punished hard, darling " He barked
She adjusted to his size immediately.She licked it top to bottom . Slowly started sucking it , she increased her pace then.She bobbed her head up and down with hollowed cheeks making his breath hitch.
"Faster , just like that my Whore , You're doing amazing "
Her hands reached his balls; slowly, rhythmically playing with it. He gripped her hair, thrusting deeper into her mouth. Saliva drooled from her lips making him moan at the sight. He fucked her mouth roughly. Her eyes watered at the feeling. A few more thrusts was all it took to make his hot cum drip into her mouth. It took him some minutes to come back from his high. He saw her looking at his face with her eyes watery, lips swollen from sucking his cock and face wet from sweat and his hot cum. He groaned at the sight. She felt accomplished. She felt proud making a part of a fallen angel cum under her touch. She never felt this much power and for the first time in her life she was not thinking about the consequences.
"Do you know how gorgeous you look right now, darling? Fucking beautiful, like a whore waiting for her Lord's cock inside her. Do you want my cock , darling?"
"Yes "she sounded excited.
"Have you ever loved a cock like you love your Lord's?"
"No " it was true .She never had seen anybody with a massive cock like his. It filled her mouth perfectly, reaching her throat, making her gag.
"Does your boyfriend let you fuck his cock with your mouth ,whore?" She moaned at the nickname.She didn't know she would love degradation until Harry. He made even degrading sound pleasing.Everytime the word whore left his mouth she felt herself getting wetter. It was sinful and dirty.
"Yes” He had sometimes but it wasn't rough. He hadn't yanked her hair or bucked his hips against her mouth. Sex with him was controlled and calculated. She never lost control with him .It was just like the other things in her life, precise and in order.
"And do you like it?" His face was nonchalant but words dripping venom. Is Lord of Lust , the second commander of Devil himself jealous of her ex-boyfriend? The thought made her even more wet.
"No" she sounded like a desperate giddy teenager.
"Why?"
"Cause ….." she trailed of.She wanted to say a hundred things but nothing came from her mouth. The anticipation was killing her.Her core ached for another release. Watching him fall apart in her mouth was a torture to say the least.
"You'll be punished for not answering, darling." His words are dominant and scary.
"No please" she said, but her mind screamed yes a thousand times.
"Bend down on my lap, I'll make it easier for you. You'll never hesitate for a moment to answer my questions." She wanted to put on an act of hesitation but nothing could hide the excitement from her face. She must have gone out of her mind or how could someone enjoy the idea of punishment. She's beyond fucked up at this point. But she could care less.
She did as he said and he pinched her nipple, making her shudder. He gently patted her ass cheeks. Goosebumps spread across her skin from the cold rings adorning his fingers. She hissed, trying to muffle her moans. He slapped her ass hard enough to make her scream aloud.
"Don't you dare hold back your moans, you understand?” She nodded.
"Good "another slap.
"You're such a whore, allowing a man centuries older than you to fuck you without even knowing how dangerous he is. Do you like if I let you fuck all the seven lords together, darling?Will you be greedy for all of their cocks, whore?"
"No"
He slapped her again and she screamed in pain and pleasure, a combination of pure bliss.
"Now tell me darling, will you be enjoying all their cocks?"
"No," she cried.
"Which cock will you love?"
"Yours, only yours"
"Fuck" he groaned "you'd be the death of me if I had one. I'll make you forget all the losers that ever touched your sweet pussy while my tongue fucks the hell out of you ."
She moaned his name again . He yanked her foreword kissing her lips possessively.Their mouths crashed against each other harder, almost desperate.Y/N’s heart fluttered at the sensation. No man will ever be enough for her. She wanted a man like him.
"Don't you dare think I'll make it easier for you, darling.You're My Whore , I'll fuck you like a whore. And you're right , once I'm done no one will ever be enough for you ."
Her face heated at the confession. He had read her thoughts. She could feel the blush creeping from her face to neck. She looked to hide her embarrassment only to watch his painfully hard cock . It strained for her. Her core clenched at the sight. She looked into his face only to find those emerald eyes turning black. It killed her. He wanted it as much as she did .She was on cloud nine, just thinking about it.
He didn't let her finish her thoughts. He flipped her back on the bed and spread her legs apart. She was dripping wet.
"Fucking wet for me, my whore. I love seeing you like this, with hazy eyes and wetness pooling between your legs only for me. I fucking love it"
She didn't get a chance to respond as he slammed into her. His thrusts were hard and desperate. He hissed at the feeling of her sweet pussy clenching around his cock.The feeling brought him a pleasure that was beyond Earth and Hell. He choked her with his long fingers .Tears sprung in her eyes. He slammed into her over and over again. Her hips arched for more. He took her nipple in his mouth while pinching the other one with his hands.She felt immortal. His pace was brutal. He bit her nipple to stimulate the sensation. He pounded into her in an insatiable hunger. She wiggled her hips to match his merciless rhythm. He quickened his thrusts hitting a spot within her. She felt the orgasm building inside her. It took only a few more thrusts to make her fall apart under him . After a few more thrusts, he too reached his climax.Before she could catch her breath he flipped her back muffling her moans into the pillow. He slammed into her from behind in a brutal thrust. A scream ripped through her as the new position made him hit the exact point.
"Scream my name, whore" he commanded, biting her shoulder. His fangs which she didn't realise were there till now, pierced into her shoulder. Blood swept from his mouth to her neck. His nails dug deeper into her ribs. She hissed in a pain that brought her orgasm closer. His thrusts were ferocious. An animalistic growl escaped his lips. She felt her inner demons breaking all the walls she created to bury them. She bucked her hips matching his energy. They reached a similar momentum . The world stilled as both of them fell apart together, filling the air with their whimpers and soft curses.
"You know how my cock felt inside you? Did you enjoy it too, darling?" His words were hoarse.
"I fucking loved it." Her words were incoherent from the mind-blowing sex.
"Has any body ever fucked you like this?" He asked.
"No never. I don't think anybody will ever"
Pleased with her reply, he fucked her again and again until she couldn't take it anymore. She felt exhausted when they finally finished. He slowly got up from the bed, took his dress and started dressing. She looked at him curiously.
"It's my cue to leave "
He was leaving.The thought made her sick. But she didn't try to make him stay. She accepted the fact that he didn't belong here. He was a demon. He had a different life and purpose. Maybe she'll find him again on a stormy night and maybe he'll fuck her like today again. Reading her thoughts he closed the distance between them.This time, it was a gentle kiss, a reminder that this is not the end .
"You haven't made me fall apart with your tongue, My Lord. Shame on your race, you didn't keep your promise." she smirked and he stopped dead in his tracks.
"Well, we can try again next year, I don’t think you’ll be able to take another orgasm " with that, he disappeared, his signature smirk adorning his lips.
"Don't go please….."
Y/n woke up abruptly with a pounding headache. What the hell! Was it a dream?She was dripping wet, from a dream! She looked down at her body. She was still wearing her nightgown. Nothing in her room was out of place. Everything was just the way she kept it. No signs of a storm. Harry, the Lord of Lust, the spanking, the sex…everything was a dream. She groaned in frustration.
Today she has to present her paper for her psychoanalysis class and here she was, waking up from a wet dream. It felt so realistic. She couldn't waste any time, she had to reach the college by 9.00. Danny had texted her that he would be there to pick her up within 25 minutes, which meant that she had to skip breakfast. She freshened up quickly and cladded herself in a black fitted skirt and a white shirt with a black blazer. She added stockings to her look to make it a little more modest. Danny was on time. Grabbing her presentation, she entered his car.
"Good Morning, ready for your presentation?" Danny asked in enthusiasm.
"Morning, and, yeah almost." She didn't seem that confident.
"You're going to rock it" he tried to boost her confidence.
"You're such a gem, but I'll be breaking your bones if you don't start the engine right now "
"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today " he laughed trying to ease her anxiety which she replied with a laugh.
The presentation went great. Her professor was delighted by her findings. The day was pretty good, to say the least. She went to the cafeteria to grab her breakfast after her presentation. She was accompanied by Danny whom she told about her dream. Not the mind boggling details, but the way it seemed so realistic and all that. He laughed and tried to interpret what it meant using Freudian philosophy. Danny had to leave soon as he had a class that hour.
Y/N walked over to the counter to get a coffee. She was waiting for her turn when somebody poured their coffee into her heels.
"Jesus …I am so sorry " leaning down to wipe her heels, a raspy voice said, in a British accent. He took a tissue from his pocket and reached for her heels. She abruptly pulled back,
"It's okay, you don't have to do it"
"It's fine, afterall it was my mistake ", sitting on his knees, he looked up at her. Her breath hitched, heart pounding faster. Same curly hair, but this time without a half bun. Same rosy full lips and that chiselled jawline. She could hardly believe her eyes.
"Ha..Harry?" she whispered.
He stood up, surprised,
"Um, sorry, do I know you?"
Well, shit.
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Soooooo, what do y'all think? G went a bit overboard for this one lol😝
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stylesharrys · 1 month
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special brownies [weedrry]
summary: harry and y/n accidentally eat their roommates special brownies.
warnings: mentions and use of weed (edibles), being high, swearing, kissing, biting, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk.
word count: 2,396
a/n: i came up with this idea very randomly and i have written it as fast as i possibly could lmao anyway, the whole thing is about accidentally getting stoned, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read! if it doesn't, enjoy <333
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//
It’s been a long week and Y/N is feeling it. Between classes and shifts at the cafe, her feet are sore and her mind is tired. She wants nothing more than to cuddle up on the sofa with a good tv show and pass the fuck out.
And tonight is supposed to be her lucky night. Tom has a night shift and Harry has a hot date. No boys, no roommates, no interruptions.
There’s just something about knowing she’s got the flat to herself all night long, and she can lounge about like the lazy girlie her heart yearns to be.
She starts with a long, relaxing her aching body in the hot soapy water until her skin begins to prune. Y/N takes extra time to moisturise her body and brush her hair. Even treats herself to a face mask while she does so.
When she leaves the bathroom, it’s almost 7 p.m. and Tom has already left for work. The apartment is clean, and most importantly, quiet.
She’s a bit too excited in her movement to the sofa, a squeal slipping from her lips. Too caught up in her head, she doesn’t notice Harry leaning against his bedroom door, arms folded across his chest.
It’s not until he clears his throat that Y/N jumps out of her little happy dance with a scream. A smirk sits on his lips, amused by the way she scowls at him.
“What the hell are you doing here! You’re supposed to be out on a date!”
Her tone is accusing, pointer finger jabbing at the air in his direction. She notices his attire; grey shorts and a white hoodie. Y/N’s shoulders slump.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she huffs.
“What? I thought you liked hanging out with me?” Harry follows her to the sofa, sitting on  the opposite end of her.
Y/N crosses her arms furiously. “I do! But I was so excited to have the flat to myself for just one night.”
Harry’s brows are raised suggestively, that sick fucking smirk on his lips again. Y/N lunges a pillow at his face. “Not for those reasons, you perv.”
He barks out a laugh, hugging the pillow close to his chest as he props his feet up and on Y/N’s lap. He watches how her bottom lip pouts out and his face softens.
“Look, if you want me to fuck off out for the evening, I can.” Harry offers.
She scoffs. “That is what you were supposed to be doing.” A moment of silence passes and she sighs. “Sorry, that came out rude. I'm not about to kick you out of your own flat – though I am going to force you to watch the last three episodes of The Rookie with me.”
Harry makes no attempt to hide the groan that follows her words. It’s not that he doesn’t like the show, it’s that he hates the show. He’ll never understand Y/N’s weird obsession with emergency services.
First, it was Criminal Minds, then a month later she binge watched 9-1-1 Lone Star in six days. Now she’s on the newest season of The Rookie and he’s sure she only started season one at the beginning of the month?
“Do we have to?” he grumbles.
Y/N throws another pillow at him. “Yes. You’re the one interrupting my night, you could at least do it quietly… and with snacks.”
Her voice trails off at the end of her sentence and Harry has to bite back a grin. She could never be mad at Harry, she loves him and his company far too much. Tom, on the other hand… yeah, she would definitely be mad if it was him crashing her lazy girl night.
Harry stands from the sofa, wandering through to the kitchen. He grabs two bottles of water in one hand and scans his eyes through the cupboards in search for a suitable snack.
They’ve not been shopping for a few days, so there’s only some dry crackers, a half-eaten bag of cashew nuts (ew, Tom), and granola. Harry contemplates ubering some cookies and milkshakes when his eyes land on a bakery box on top of the microwave.
He squints as he reads the writing on the top of the box.
Tom’s. DO NOT EAT!
Harry flips the lid, six thick slices of dewey chocolate brownies. They’re like fucking slabs… he’s sure Tom won’t mind if he and Y/N share just one between them.
He pops a (massive) slice on a plate and toddles back to the kitchen. The show is paused on the opening scene, Y/N shuffled to get comfortable on the sofa. She raises a brow at the snack in question.
“We’re sharing a brownie?”
Harry huffs as he sits. “S’all we’ve got in the kitchen, and they’re Tom’s. Didn’t wanna take the piss when his little sticky note clearly says DO NOT TOUCH!”
Y/N snorts, breaking the brownie in half and handing Harry the bigger slice. She takes a bite, face screwing slightly.
“These taste a little funny… nutmeg, maybe?”
She turns to Harry who doesn’t say anything and still hasn’t taken the brownie. The look on his face irks her. She huffs, swallowing. “I feel bad that your date cancelled on you.”
His eyebrows almost raise to his hairline. “And what makes you think she was the one to cancel?”
“Was she?” Y/N asks.
Harry takes the brownie with a sigh. “Yeah.”
//
They can’t stop fucking giggling.
The show is long forgotten about, has been for the past thirty minutes. They’re both feeling warm. Harry stripped from his jumper and Y/N changed into some little shorts and one of Harry’s baggy t-shirts.
Neither of them know where this amusement came from, but there is absolutely no calming either of them down. They’re sneakily sharing a second slice of Tom’s brownies; eyes on the door in case for some reason, he comes home an hour after his shift has started.
“They taste so weird, but I can’t stop eating it.”
Harry chokes out a laugh, eyes welling with tears because he just finds Y/N so fucking funny tonight.
She’s a mess too, eyes squinted and shoulders hunched as she laughs uncontrollably. They’re both crossed-legged on the living room floor, knees knocking gently.
The more she chews, the more she begins to recognise that unfamiliar taste… the way it lingers on her tongue. Her laughter slows for a moment, as if realisation is beginning to dawn on her.
She stares at Harry with wide eyes and parted lips, mouth still full.
“Oh, my god.”
“What?”
“They’re fucking weed brownies!”
Harry can’t breathe, struggles to look away from the fear and shock on Y/N’s face. His whole body begins to shake with laughter and Y/N finds herself following.
“Harry, it’s not funny!” she shrieks. “This is so bad, Harry.”
She’s laughing through her words. Even she can’t take herself seriously in this state.
“D’you wanna play Just Dance?”
Harry’s words only make her laugh harder. The remainder of her brownie is thrown at his naked torso. Harry wastes no time to tackle her to the ground, hovering between her legs as he tickles her sides.
He's blowing raspberries on her neck, eliciting loud cackles from her mouth. Y/N tugs at his hair, her legs flailing around his hips when he nips at the skin on her throat.
They don’t say anything. She continues to chuckle, and Harry continues to bite.
Their laughter has fizzled out into breathy giggles. Neither of them are sure when Harry’s bites turned into kisses. When their fingers became intertwined. When her legs closed around his middle.
And neither of them say a fucking thing about it.
Harry’s lips travel up her neck and across her jaw. She finds his mouth feverishly, nothing but tongue and teeth but to the pair of them, it’s the best kiss they’ve ever had.
They’re needy, hot and wanton all of a sudden. Like a switch has been flipped and they’re clinging to one another like lifelines.
Harry holds her hands above her head, fingers tangled. He’s hard, rock hard. Pressing into Y/N’s tiny fucking shorts so much he’s sure he can feel her arousal through both of their clothes.
He ruts against her, testing the waters. The moan he receives sends all blood down south. He’s always known sex to be incredible when you’re high. The thought of him sharing it with her? God, he could bust there and then.
He releases her hands so he can feel up her thighs, skin hot and smooth. Their lips don’t separate, not once. She lets her hands fall into his curls, nails scratching at his scalp and she tugs at the roots.
Harry’s moaning into her mouth, eager and desperate for more. He takes her shorts off quickly and strategically. So quickly that she doesn’t notice until she feels a cool breeze between her thighs.
Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, more than ready for whatever the fuck he wants to do to her.
They haven’t hesitated, not once. Not until Harry's hands are at the waistband of his shorts and he wonders if he should grab a condom or just go down on her. He knows she’s on the pill, just like they both know they’re both clean.
Harry gets tested once a month and Y/N doesn’t sleep around.
She answers his inner turmoil for him and tugs his shorts down the best she can. Harry breaks the kiss for a split second to tug his shorts to his knees. He’s back to kissing her as quickly as he pulled away, tongue against hers. Hot and messy.
Y/N feels his tip twitch against her clit, an airy sigh echoing into Harry’s mouth. He lets his fingers swirl around her wetness, smearing it across her smooth cunt and coating his thick shaft in her arousal.
They’re panting messes, eager, desperate and horny.
When he lines himself at her entrance, she locks her legs around his waist. Harry bumps forward, a shrill cry slipping from between their lips at the sensation of one another.
Harry wants to give her a moment to adjust, but Y/N doesn’t. She wants it hot and hard. She wants the pain. She wants to feel every fucking inch of him.
She probably should’ve warned Harry how she gets when she’s high. How much of a whiny, cock-hungry whore she can become. Then again, how was she supposed to know they’d accidentally eat their roommates special brownies?
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry chokes as he bottoms out.
Y/N’s struggling to catch her breath but she’s never loved the burn in her lungs more. “Fuck me, H.”
He twitches inside her. “Fuck me hard.”
His hips begin to roll, cock nuzzling itself deep inside her. He can feel everything. Every bump, dip, swell. God, she’s fucking soaked, leaking down to the floor but neither of them care.
Harry slowly begins to quicken his pace, arms bent at the elbows either side of Y/N’s head to prop himself up. She doesn’t loosen her legs around his hips. She needs him as close as he can possibly get.
Even his cock buried to the brim in her cunt isn’t enough. She needs his soul touching hers.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
“Yeah?” she breathes. “You gonna fuck my tight cunt, baby? Fuck me like you own me.”
He can’t believe his fucking ears. He’s always found Y/N attractive, but never in his wildest fucking dreams did he expect her to be this goddamn filthy.
Harry loves it.
His thrusts grow harsher. She has no time to catch her breath between hits, her mouth in a constant state of slack – eyes rolled back and eyebrows pinched.
“My perfect little cunt.” Harry seethes.
The noises of her pussy are like electric waves in Harry’s ears. He feels them in his soul, like sparks and jolts. He’s never felt more alive.
He’s fucking into her manically. Behind closed eyes all he can see shapes and colours of need and desire. Sex has always been good, always been great high. But this? Fuck, he’s never felt something so otherwordly.
He never wants it to end, wants to spend the rest of his life fucking her like a whore. She’s tugging his hair, likely making his scalp bleed but he loves it. He’d bleed a fucking river just to feel her cunt around him again.
“I’m gonna come!”
Her words awaken something animalistic within Harry. Like his life depends on feeling her release around him – like it’s what he was born to experience.
He chases her high, nipping and suckling on her neck, fucking into her cunt as fast as his restrained hips will allow. Y/N’s a blubbering mess, a sight Harry never wants to forget.
Fuck, he doesn’t think he could if he tried. This will forever be etched into his mind – her face, her body, her perfect cunt. Jesus, he’s never been so into sex in his life.
Her body begins to tremble uncontrollably, legs locked tight around his middle as she cries his name and pours over him.
Harry’s gruff and desperate moans mix with hers. She’s impossibly tighter, squeezing him; begging him to never let her feel anything but full ever again.
Harry wants to die buried in her cunt.
It takes every single fucking ounce of willpower he has to pull out and release across her thighs – painting the filthiest picture anyone could imagine.
It’s a struggle for either of them to catch their breaths. Hot and heavy panting that soon turns into light laughter, that even sooner, turns into contagious giggles.
Their bodies shake with every chuckle, Harry’s mouth ghosting hers until he nips on her bottom lip.
“We are never to talk about this, understood?”
He grins widely. “Whatever you want, Princess.”
She hums, eyes full of lust. Harry’s still achingly hard, despite coming more than he ever has before. He dips his head to her neck, sucking at her soft skin. His cock twitches against her thigh and she breathes deeply, blinks slowly.
“You wanna go again?” his voice is muffled by her neck.
She grins, legs wrapping back around his middle.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
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wrongplacerighttime · 2 months
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fratboy!harry x you
hi hi! its been awhile. finally finished this after 3834273 weeks it feels like. its also my first reader fic so....hope you like it HAHAHA.... :)
the one where your friends introduce you to Harry, you go on a trip and things get interesting. featuring a lake house, hiking, and a cherry sucker.
wc: 5.8k
tw: smut 18+, spanking, choking, light dom!harry dynamic, brief clit slapping, brief face slapping, lil bit of cum play, size kink, breeding kink if you squint. idk if i missed anything but as always let me know if i did :)
cherry sucker
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Finding solace in the chirping birds and chattering on the street that could be heard from your open window, you stood in front of your closet, clad in a little white tank and baby blue undies, preparing your bag for a camping trip you and your friends had planned. Spring semester has concluded and this trip will commemorate the start of summer vacation. You daydream about the sun glistening off the ripples of the lake water, the smell of the grass wafting in the wind as the sun warms the earth while you pack your bag. 
While you were excited for summer, you wanted to get a head start on your reading for fall semester. You had a textbook or two in the bottom of your bag—poli sci books, because you had heard the professor was relentless with his lesson plan and you wanted to go in with no surprises. You hear the faintest footsteps down stairs, growing louder the closer they drew up the stairs. Your door swings open and Faye strides through, red hair flowing behind her at the pace she was walking. She comes up behind you, smacking your ass making you yelp. 
“Faye!” You squeal, clutching the cheek that was now turning red with your best friend's hand print. 
“I’m so envious of your ass, I just had to.” She falls backwards on your bed, arms sprawling beside her. “It’s just so tempting.” She giggles and you turn back to your closet.
“I’m so glad we actually have time to see each other now that classes are over. School’s been so busy I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and go to class.” 
“Is that why you have a fucking textbook in your bag?” Faye raises her eyebrow at your duffle and picks one up. “Russian socioeconomic structure? What even is this?” 
“It’s for Professor Sykes. I’ve heard he's brutal and I want to be prepared.” 
“You are not bringing this. You have a whole summer ahead of you to study.” Faye scoffs, pausing for a moment. “If you bring this book on this trip I’ll throw it in the lake myself.” 
“Then you’ll owe me $200. Besides, what if I get bored?” You cross your arms over your chest and Faye looks at you like you’ve grown another head. 
“There’s a lake! A lake!” She throws her hands up in the air, laughing at your determination. You bend down, opening your drawer and pulling out a skimpy yellow bikini to throw in your bag. “By the way, Josh is bringing a friend. His name’s Harry…Styles I think. Do you know him?” You shake your head. 
“Know of him, don’t know him though.” 
“Oh. Well he’s single…and kind of hot.” Faye giggles and you shake her head again.
“No thanks. I’m not really into the dating scene right now.” 
“No one said anything about dating. Just maybe for a little…fun.” This time, it’s your turn to look at Faye like she’s the one who’s grown another head. “Fine. If you don’t want to…maybe he’ll be our third.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you widen your eyes in horror at her suggestion of asking Harry to join her and her boyfriend in their sexual endeavors. 
Before you can get another thought in, heavy footsteps clamber up the stairs and it’s Josh, Harry in tow with a backpack slung over his shoulder and suddenly your room feels very small. Josh flicks his eyes to you, smiling and sitting next to Faye on your bed. 
“Pauly and Alex are on their way. We’re putting all the shit in their car and you guys are gonna ride with us.” He says, gesturing his finger between the two of you and you nod. The window open brings a warm breeze into the room, blowing your sketchbook pages until it lands on one with a drawing of a man. 
Not just any man…it was your ex. Your eyes flick to everyone and you rush over to shut it before anyone can catch it. It was an old drawing, and a hobby you hadn’t picked back up since things ended and you really didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup with Faye. Faye wasn’t the biggest fan of him, and for good reason after he cheated on you with the TA in one of his classes last semester. 
Harry stands in the doorway, chewing gum between his molars, his jaw flexing and glances around your room—the bedroom of a girl whom he’d never met, and it felt very personal…like he was getting a peak into who you were as a person. An overflowing bookshelf, handmade drawings stuck to a corkboard on the wall over the desk. Faye and Josh were talking in hushed whispers and he tilted his head to the side as he had the perfect view of your ass as you were turned around and facing your desk. He smirks at the red hand mark left there, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thoughts running through his head. He drops his gaze as you turn back around to walk towards your closet again. His eyes meet yours and you smile, a greeting showing you were just being nice, and he wonders if you always walk around half dressed in front of strangers. He clears his throat.
“Sykes next semester?” He asks, voice with a hint of an accent you weren’t expecting and you nod. 
“How’d you know?” He gestures his elbow towards your bag, the textbook on top of your clothes and your mouth forms and “O” and you nod.
“He teaches that entire fucking book every year. It’s such a snooze fest.” He pauses. “Do you like Russian literature?” You nod again, gesturing to your bookshelf filled with classics and fantasy and romance. You had a few authors on the shelf, but not as many as you would like. He brings his backpack around to his side, unzipping and reaching in. He pulls out a tattered book, crinkles in the cover and the corners turning up, all characteristics of a well loved piece and hands it to you. “Read this instead. A lot more interesting.” He smirks and your gaze drops to the words on the cover. A collection of poems by Anna Akhmatova. In the short conversation you were having you didn’t realize that you had been left alone with him. He smiles, a sly grin spreading on his lips almost like he knew he was about to be a menace. 
“By the way, blue looks good on you.” He flicks his gaze down before meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks burning instantly as he walks out the door laughing to himself as he stumbles his way down the stairs, leaving you to finish packing alone.
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The car ride to the cabin had everyone buzzing with anticipation. Faye had called shotgun, and you and Harry shared a look when she did. He smirked and you looked away and quickly climbed into the backseat. The entire ride you were consumed with a nervous energy that you couldn’t quite place. Harry had his hand splayed out on the seat beside you and when he leaned forward to talk to Josh, the tip of his pinky barely brushed your skin and you tried not to think about it too hard for the rest of the ride over.
It took no time for you to clamber out of the car and claim your room inside for the weekend. Tossing your bag onto the floor by the door, you flopped down on the fluffy mattress holding the book Harry lent you to your chest. You were fiddling with the cover when Faye waltzed in and leaned against the foot of the bed. 
“Get up. We’re going on a hike.” She said giddy with excitement and you cocked your eyebrow at her. 
“Think I’ll pass.” 
“Not an option. Everyone else is going.” She crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe. 
“I didn’t bring shoes for a hike.” You half laugh at her with a shake of your head and she narrows her eyes. 
“You can wear a pair of mine. Let’s go.” Faye gestures and you groan, tossing the book back onto the bed with a soft thud against the duvet. You pad down the hallway after her, slumped over feigning protest like a toddler and she hands you a pair of her sneakers once you reach her room. Slipping them on, you plait your hair behind your head quickly and messily as you find your way to the foyer where everyone is gathered and waiting to leave. None of them look thrilled either as they follow Faye out the door to the path behind the house.
The June sun was high in the sky and the only reprieve you were able to get from the heat was the occasional shade of the trees along the path. You and Harry had fallen behind, the rest of the group up ahead and through heavy breaths you would sneak glances from the corner of your eye as the sun glistened off the light sheen of sweat coating his shoulders and his chest. He had popped a cherry sucker in his mouth not long ago and you watched as he moved it from one cheek to the other with his tongue and caught your mind wandering to what his tongue might feel like running along the expanse of your skin. You walk in silence, hands brushing slightly from the uneven terrain and you want to apologize for repeatedly bumping him but you don’t. 
“Does she always make you do shit like this?” He huffs from behind you, stepping over a fallen limb.
“Unfortunately.” You grumble back, trying not to roll your ankle stepping over rocks bigger than the palm of your hand. 
Even though this hike was the last thing Harry wanted to be doing, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company, though little conversation had been exchanged since the moment in your room. His eyes trailed over your body, noticing the bead of sweat rolling down your chest and his tongue darts out over his lips, wanting nothing more than to trail his tongue down the same path. He watched the way your thighs flexed as you stepped over limbs and branches and he thought about them wrapped around his waist, driving into you over and over while your fingers leave marks over his torso. He pulls his shirt over his head, unable to take the heat of the afternoon any longer and he tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. He’s noticed you watching him too, stealing glances out of the corner of your eye and biting your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip. He’s convinced that he could do anything and you’d melt into the palm of his hand, so desperate to please him and be good for him. He smirks to himself as you divert your eyes ahead, away from his now bare torso and towards the ground. 
He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick ahead, and you don’t know that he’s judging how long it would take for your friends to notice if he pulled you out of sight for a moment.  He decides it’s worth the risk, lightly grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a nearby tree. You feel the bark against your back as he cages your head between his arms and you look up at him with wide eyes. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart against your ribcage at his close proximity. 
So close you can smell the cherry on his breath, hear the faint sound as the confection clatters against his teeth. Your eyes focus on the white stick poking from between his lips and he watches you. His hands dig into the roughness of the oak and his chest pressed against yours. Suddenly the heat of the afternoon feels suffocating. He brings his own hand to his mouth, plucking the stick from between his teeth and the sticky residue touches your lips. Upon instinct, your tongue darts out to collect, catching the sweetness and savoring it for a moment. 
“Open.” His voice is low and gravelly, and for some reason you find yourself obeying his command before you can even think too hard about it. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue in anticipation, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you and he hums. “Can y’hold this for me, puppy?” 
A heat swirls in your core, and without noticing your thighs clench together and a whine escapes your throat as you nod. Harry places the sweet candy on your tongue and your lips wrap around the stick slick from his own salivation. “Good girl.” He mutters, stepping away and creating space between the two of you. You snap out of the trance you seemingly had fallen into and scurry away, catching up to your friends and leaving him laughing behind you. 
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Nightfall comes before you have a chance to think about it. You had taken a quick nap after you returned from the hike and it was much needed, considering your mind was going haywire and you just needed a break from your thoughts drifting to Harry. It was quiet out here, you and Harry the only ones left sitting next to the fire Josh and Pauly had started a couple of hours ago. You were huddled up under a blanket, the air blowing off the lake making it feel colder than it actually was. Frogs were humming by the water and the crickets were chirping in the grass, the sounds of nature around you made you feel calm. You had the book Harry had loaned you resting against your thigh as you read the prose on the weathered pages. Harry had his head leaned back, fingers weaved together on his chest with his eyes closed. Occasionally you would peek over at him and he seemed tranquil. You weren’t sure why he was still here with you, but maybe he was just enjoying the fire like you were. You had purposely avoided him after the incident on the hike, the memory still causing an arousal to pool beneath the denim of your shorts and you tried like hell to push it from your mind.
“Let’s swim.” He states, pulling you from your thoughts. You raised your brow at him, a quizzical look. 
“I’ll pass.” You blow out a laugh and he turns his head towards you then. 
“Why? Faye and Josh are off somewhere, probably fucking, and Pauly and Alex are doing bong rips inside. Not really a fan of that…they're incessantly annoying when they’re high. So let’s go swim.” He says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most sound choice of activity for this time of night.
“It’s cold, and I’m actually enjoying this book of poems you lent me.” You tell him, and because you’re not looking at him at that second you don’t see the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a half smile. 
“Anna Akhmatova is interesting. But you have all weekend to read it.” He turns to face you then, you catch the movement out of your peripheral.
“I also have all weekend to swim.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment and you turn the page to read the next poem. He shifts in his seat. 
“Alright. I didn’t want it to have to come to this…” He says, sighing. He stands, making his way over to you. Before you can process what he’s doing, he snatches the book and throws it onto a neighboring chair. In one swift movement, he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards the dock. You thrash and kick but it’s no use, not when he’s stronger than you’ll ever be. 
“Harry! Put me down!” You exclaim, laughing in the process and you feel his chest against your thighs. He doesn’t respond. “Okay! I surrender. I’ll swim with you. Please just don’t throw me in.” You try to reason with him and he stops, pausing his movements and taking in your words. He plants your feet on the weathered wood, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes as he smiles down at you, a crooked grin that had your knees feeling weak. “That wasn’t funny. I don’t have a swim suit on either.” 
“I guess that gives us a perfect excuse to go skinny dipping then.” He states as if there’s nothing wrong with that scenario. 
“Respectfully, no. I’ll swim in my clothes.” You counter back.
“Sweet girl, it’s nothing you or I haven’t seen before. Be mature.” He teases and you want to laugh, but you cross your arms over your chest, instinctively making yourself smaller. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his shorts before looking back at you, noticing your hesitation and he stops. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He puts his hands on your arms, and you shake your head, looking out at the ripples on the surface lit by the moon. 
“No it’s—I’m not—it’s fine. I want to. I just haven’t really taken my clothes off in front of a guy in—since…” You pause, collecting your thoughts before looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m being this way. I think I’m just nervous.” 
“You don’t have to feel that way around me. Promise.” He smiles and turns back around, pushing his shorts down so you have a view of his bare ass. Your cheeks redden as you avert your gaze elsewhere, and he jumps into the water with a splash. You can’t see him, not until he pokes his head back up and shakes the water from his hair. “It feels great.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Not until you’re in the water.” He says and you nod, and then realizing he can’t see you clear your throat. 
“Okay.” Your voice feels small. Hesitantly you unbutton your shorts, sliding them down along with your underwear and pulling the sweatshirt over your head leaving you bare and exposed, and you hoped and prayed that Alex and Pauly weren’t watching out the window. You drop it to the dock, your clothes and his making separate piles, taking a step towards the edge and looking down into the water. Here goes nothing, you say to yourself and leap in. And he was right, it really did feel great. It envelopes around you as you swim upwards and breach the surface, wiping your eyes and opening them. He’s there in front of you, a smile plastered on his face. 
“See, s’not so bad, right?” He asks and you shake your head again as you tread the water. And you both stay like that for a while, swimming and floating. He floats on his back and you try a little too hard to not let your gaze travel south, focusing on his face and how content he looks with his eyes closed. You’re too busy staring at the tattoos littering his torso when he says something you don’t quite catch.  
“Hm?” Your gaze flits back to his face and he’s smiling. 
“I said,"Do you like what you see?” He laughs and you can feel your cheeks redden because he caught you staring at him. 
“I’m sorry.” You apologize sheepishly and he swims over to you, closing the distance and you bite back a grin at the close proximity. 
“Don’t need to apologize, sweet girl.” He says, his voice low and he brings his hand up to thumb over your lips, parting them before his thumb runs over your cheek. “Be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you all night.” He confesses and you think if you were nervous before, then you’re not sure what you’re feeling right now. It feels like a stampede of elephants is running through your belly as he runs the backs of his fingers across your cheek. You decide to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. Your hands find his face and you crash your lips to his, and he’s taken off guard but the next second his hands dip under the water and he pulls you into him, the warmth of your bodies melding together underneath the surface. Upon instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as you push your chest into him, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, dimpling the skin beneath his fingertips. 
It was almost like neither of you needed to speak, once the kiss had broken you both swam fervently towards the dock. He hoists you up by your waist, quickly dressing just to go inside and get undressed again. He pulls you by your hand towards the cabin, and you say a silent prayer that your friends who were in here made their way outside. 
By the grace of some higher power, the house was empty and the air inside was cold and smelled of the aftershocks of bong rips and a half smoked joint. Harry pulled you down the hall, into his room, and shut the door behind him with a click of the lock. 
He smirks and he pushes you down into the bed, hair wet and sticking to the skin of your neck. He crawls over you after pulling your shorts off and throwing them somewhere across the room, slotting a knee between your thighs and instinctively you grind against him, gripping onto his biceps. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and slides them down your thighs in one swift move, and you kick them the rest of the way off in anticipation.
“Been thinking about taking those off since I saw you prancing around your room in them this morning.” His voice drops an octave as he ghosts the tip of his nose along your cheek , tracing the outline of your jaw as you desperately move your hips seeking for any friction it would give you.  He pulls back, looking over your features and you can see his pupils blown from his own pleasure. 
“Look at you.” He coos, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Taking before I can even give anything to you, so selfish.” He purrs, and somehow the tone of it makes you stop, halting the movement of your hips. 
“No. Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you get yourself off just from riding my thigh. Need it so bad, can’t even help yourself.” He coos, but his tone is condescending and you almost question him. He raises a brow, running a thumb over your cheek delicately. The harsh tone of his voice and the softness of his touch playing mind games with you. “Do it. Be a good girl.” He encourages you, and you feel like it’s a trap. 
“N-no. Want whatever you wanna give me. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” You pout your lower lip out and he thumbs over it, pulling it down before it bounces back into place. You like that he takes initiative, being dominant over you like it comes so easily for him. He can see the wheels in your mind turning and he cocks his head to the side. 
“What?” 
“Nothing. Just never done this before. Never had someone be…” You trail off, but he nods like he already knew what you were going to say. 
“I see. Sweet girl’s never had someone take control over her?” You shake your head. He rolls his lip between his teeth, eyes flittering around your face. “But you crave it, don’t you? Just wanna be a cock-drunk little slut? Wanna have someone filling you, telling you what to do?” His words penetrate your brain and your eyes flutter closed. “Answer me. Is that what you want?” He demands and you nod, faster than you ever have and he flashes his pretty smile at you. 
“Yes. Please.” Finding your voice, begging him. He shifts, pressing his thigh into your center and a whimper falls from your lips, the heat growing between your thighs. 
“Go.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your pulse point and trailing kisses down your collar bone. Slowly, your hips begin to move and you’re almost embarrassed at your arousal coating his skin, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp. You push the thoughts away, focusing on your pleasure as you feel his hardening length against your thigh, pressing into you. You reach down, palming him through the material before he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. “Didn’t tell you you could touch.” He mumbles against your skin and you whine in protest. Your hips move faster now, and you’re so close. Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away and your lungs deflate, a breath being taken away from you. He stands over you, pushing his shorts down and your eyes widen at the sight of him. You want to reach out and grab him, pump his cock with your hand but you refrain. He leans over you again, planting kisses down your chest and dipping in the valley between your tits, his nose ghosting over your skin. 
“Want you to tell me red if you wanna stop, okay? Green if you wanna keep going. Got it?” He asks and you nod. He peeks up at you through his lashes and cocks his brow. “Words, puppy. Can’t hear a nod or a shake.”
“Yes. I’m—yes. Got it” You’re breathless with your answer. He peppers small kisses over your navel, gripping your hips between his fingers as his head dips lower, kissing the insides of both thighs, trailing his tongue over your skin and purposely skipping over your weeping hole just to make you squirm under his grip. He parts you open then, collecting your arousal on his tongue and the wicked sensation makes your back arch from the bed, pushing your core closer to him and he forces you back down. 
“Uh-uh. Stay still or I’ll stop.” He mumbles, and a whine bubbles in your throat. He laps lazily st your core, circling and flattening his tongue over your clit as you try your hardest to keep your hips still. His fingers dimple your skin, digging into the muscle underneath. He knew he was gripping hard enough to leave small bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and he wanted to. Wanted you to remember his head between your thighs as you shattered just from the flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud. You’re a mess of moans and panting his name over and over. He pulls your clit between his teeth and your hips jolt upwards and he pushes you back down to the mattress. He pulls away, and your chest heaves at the loss of contact but a cry escapes your throat when he lands a light smack to your center, and the pain morphes into pleasure as tears well up in your eyes at the sting.
“Told you to stay still. Can’t follow simple directions, angel?” 
“M’s—sorry.” You gasp and he glances up at you, noticing your wet lashes and he props himself up on his elbows. 
“What's your color, sweet girl?” His tone is gentle, planting a soft kiss to the top of your thigh and peeking up at you from under his lashes.
“Green.” You answer eagerly and he smiles against your skin, crawling back up to level with your eyes. His lips find yours and you open, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth against your own, the room around you melting away. It’s slow, sensual and full of desire. He doesn’t pull away as he lines himself up with you, the tip of his cock teasing your aching hole and you move your hips trying like hell to get him further inside. 
“So needy.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls your bottom one between his teeth, nipping gently. He pushes into you slowly, your mouth dropping open as he lays his forehead against your collarbone. “So tight, sweet girl. I don’t think m’gonna fit.” He pushes into you further, teeth marking your skin as he groans against your skin and you whine at the sting of him stretching you. 
“Fuck, Harry.” You whimper, he cages your head between his hands, holding himself up as his biceps flex and extend, the sinewy tissue underneath his skin prominent. He looks down between your bodies, where he's halfway sheathed inside your pussy and he chuckles, a breathy laugh that morphs into a sigh. 
“Pretty little pussy looks so pitiful like this. Can’t do it, puppy.” He pants, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s just playing a part, but it doesn’t stop the cry that escape from your throat as you beg him to fuck you. 
“Please, Harry. Need you. Want you so much. Can take it, promise. Please.” You look up at him with wide eyes and he admires you for a moment, taking in the pout playing on your pretty mouth that he just wants to kiss away, the tears welling in your eyes that he’ll wipe away if they fall. The need in your voice letting him know you’d do anything he asks of you in this moment. 
“Alright, I’ll give it to you. Gonna go slow til you’re all stretched out f’me.” He palms your thighs, hiking them around his waist and continues to fill you, your head lulling to the side as your eyes flutter closed and your jaw falls slack when he reaches to the hilt, balls resting against your ass as his head falls back. “So fucking good, angel. Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes.” 
So you listen, do the best you can to force your eyes open as he starts to rock his hips into you, pulling out to the tip before filling you up again and again. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your calf as he sets his rhythm, going deeper from this angle. His eyes never leave yours as he groans and nibbles on your skin, peppering small bites and then soothing with his tongue. He hits the right spot every time, and when your eyes finally betray you and fall closed, you feel a smack land on your cheek. Not hard, but just enough to sting and you whimper. 
“Thought you were a good girl.” He says through gritted teeth and he drives into you harder. 
“I-I am. Want to be good for you.” He grunts at your response, he pulls out and flips you over before pulling your ass up in the air so you sit on your knees with your face down in the mattress. He palms your ass, landing a smack to your cheek. He rubs over the spot gently, soothing as you push closer into his touch and he's climbing behind you, lining up and pushing back in and it feels even better from this angle. Hitting every spot just right and you swear you see stars. He reaches around you, pushing on your tummy just under your navel and wraps his other hand around your throat lightly, pulling you up. 
Your back is flush with his chest, skin sticking together from the light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies. One hand squeezing the sides of your neck and the other pressing still on your belly and he nips at your ear.
“Can feel me all the way in your tummy, can’t you? This is what you like right? Nobody’s ever had you like this have they?” He whispers and you shake your head. His hand finds yours and he brings it back to the spot just below your belly button. “Feel that? Feel me so deep in this pretty pussy. Gonna get you all full of me, fill you with my babies.” He grits and squeezes your neck a little harder, the corners of your vision darkening before he lets go and you take in a full breath, feeling high on him…and he’s all you know. His words, his hands roaming your body and his cock stretching you. 
“Harry, I’m so close.” You breathe out and he grunts, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade. 
“I know…can feel you squeezing my cock so tight angel. C’mon. Cum for me.” He encourages you and you shatter around him, pussy pulsing around him bringing him to his own release as he paints inside you. He wastes no time pulling out and you topple over from your legs feeling weak and he dips down behind you. You feel him dripping out of your hole, and his fingers spread you open. Pushing one inside with no warning, he fucks his cum back inside of you with his fingers and you hum, unable to make any other noise and he chuckles behind you.
“Like being filled like this? Look so pretty full of me, dripping out of you. Never gonna forget it.” He mutters, planting a kiss on the small of your back before standing. Finding the energy to roll over, he offers his fingers to you and you take them between your lips and taste the mix of both of you on his fingers. He curses under his breath at the sight of you, feeling his cock twitching back to life and he pulls them away to stop himself thinking about fucking you again and again.
You slept in his bed that night.
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The weekend ended all too quickly, and you were half asleep in the back seat of Josh’s car with your head resting on the window, holding Harry’s book on your thighs and fiddling wither cover, something you had become accustomed to as you read the prose on the pages or when you closed in while engaging in conversation. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d see him in that capacity again after this weekend and didn’t know if you wanted to go back to being strangers that passed each other in the economics building on campus. 
Josh pulled up to the house you and Faye shared, and Harry follows you out of the car. He retrieves your bag from Pauly’s car for you, carrying it up to your room and putting it down on your bed. You almost felt like you were having deja vu, the scene similar to one from Thursday afternoon, except this time you weren’t half naked in front of him and he wasn’t just a stranger in your room anymore. You look around, then to the floor before meeting his eyes and he smirks as he leans against your doorframe. 
“Here.” You hand him the book but he puts his hands up, shaking his head.
“Keep it.” He says, and you almost refuse but accept it anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “Don’t be a stranger, angel.” 
“I won’t be.”
He leaves you there, standing in the middle of the room with his book clutched to your chest with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.
And you knew it wouldn't be the last time you saw Harry Styles.
1K notes · View notes
freedomfireflies · 12 days
Text
Our Place*
Summary: An extra for 404*
The one where Harry invites you back to his apartment for the first time and it doesn't go as planned.
Word Count: 1.7k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, angst (happy ending), use of a safe word
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Harry’s apartment is nicer than you expected. 
The furniture is cozy, the décor is unique, and his bedroom is well kept. He even has fresh flowers on his kitchen table. 
It surprised you, even though it shouldn’t. Harry doesn’t seem like a dirty guy, but truthfully, you were still shocked to find he had both sheets on his bed and no clothes on the ground.
You take in the tiny details of his life as he kisses down your neck and slips his fingers into your jeans. He’d wrangled you onto the bed only seconds after you walked through the door. He didn’t want to give you a tour of the whole apartment. Just the bedroom. Which you were more than all right with. 
He’s oddly desperate, given the circumstances. Maybe he always is, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels…hopeful.
“Shit, Tink,” he groans into your ear when he feels how wet you’ve become. “S’this just because you rode my bike?”
You gently swat the back of his head. “Stop it.”
“What?” He noses under your jaw. “Felt you squirming back there, Princess. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you were trying to get yourself off to the vibrations?”
You wince. You didn’t even realize you’d been doing it. “I was not, I was just…the adrenaline was a lot—”
“Uh-huh.” He laughs and something about it sounds like honey. “S’fine, baby. You know I don’t mind.”
“Well…I wasn’t—”
“Sure. Can I fuck you now?”
You huff. “That’s why I’m here.”
He rips your jeans down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and somewhere onto the floor. The warm air feels good and it’s then that you realize he’s right. You’re soaked, all the way through your panties.
But instead of taunting you further, he only tugs them aside and pulls his cock out. 
“I think…” he murmurs as he lines himself up, “…it’s high time I got you pregnant.”
Your mouth falls open in a moan as he drops a glob of spit onto your clit and pushes in.  
You’ve noticed that his breeding kink makes an appearance more often than not these days. Which you aren’t exactly complaining about. After all, you have one, too. Mostly thanks to him.
But it surprises you all the same as he starts to work himself in and out of your tight cunt, whispering the filthiest promises. 
“Think I won’t do it, hm? I will. Swell this pretty belly with my cum. S’what it was made for, wasn’t it? To take me. Have my babies. Gonna stretch you so pretty…get your tits leaking. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you, Princess?”
You try to respond but how can you? You feel as though you’ve been fucked dumb. Unable to hear anything past the pounding of blood in your ears.
His glasses start to slip down his nose. He almost always takes them off—they’re mostly for reading anyway. But you like the look of them. Like how studious it makes him seem...how scandalous.
So, you nudge them back up. Desperate to see him exactly the way he always is.
He smirks. “You all right there, Tink?”
You nod weakly. “Yes…yeah. M’fine.”
“Thinking about what I said?” He kisses down your chest. “Thinking about calling me Daddy for real? Having our babies?"
Our. A word you didn’t think belonged to you. Because Harry doesn’t belong to you. And you don’t belong to him. You’re two separate people. Even when you fuck, he’s in his world and you’re in yours. You weren’t meant to be an “our.”
You chalk this up to a slip of the tongue. Something you say when you're threatening to breed someone. And you choose not to give it any power. Because you know what happens if you do.
The fucking gets harder. Faster. He’s chasing a high. In fact, he's been chasing it since earlier in the bar when he saw you with another man. And you know he’s trying to hold off for you, but he wants to cum. He wants to paint your belly with his seed and fuck it back in. Wants to make good on his word even if he shouldn’t.
Your nails scratch down his back, damp and covered in sweat. But his muscles feel good in your hands and you whimper as you hike a leg over his hip and bury him in your pussy.
In your lust-filled haze, your attention drifts. Head rolling to the side as you focus on the soft grunts in your ear. 
But then, your eyes find something on his dresser.
Your heart stops.
In fact, everything stops. Your breathing, your noises, your gentle rolls to meet his thrusts.
It all stops. And you whisper, “Red.”
He quickly falls still. A rather impressive feat given how anxious he is to find release. From 100 to 0 in only seconds, and you almost feel guilty as you sense him glance at you.
“What’s wrong?” he asks through labored inhales. “What…what happened, what do you want me to do?”
But you don’t look back. You keep your focus on the piece of furniture in the corner of his room and you will yourself not to cry.
Eventually, he looks, too. And when he realizes, the air in the room shifts.
He lets out a soft sigh and drops his hand to your hip. Squeezing it once. “Tink…”
You say nothing. Tears are pooling behind your lashes and your chest feels tight. 
“Tink,” he tries again, firm. His grip tightens on your waist. “Tinkerbell—"
“She’s beautiful,” you breathe. You take in a soft gasp. “Oh, my god, Harry, she’s…she’s so beautiful.”
He’s quiet for only a moment. “Yeah. She was,” he agrees gently.
You can’t take your eyes away from the picture frame. The guilt is so much worse now than it was before. Your heart is in your throat, in your ears, lying on the floor next to your jeans. 
You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. In his bed—their bed—fucking the man she died loving. While he promises to get you pregnant and give you his babies.
And how is he so calm? How the fuck is he looking at her picture while still inside of you instead of screaming at you to leave his apartment? How can he be okay with cheating on her with you?
“Princess,” he says again, and grabs onto your jaw to force your focus back to him. “Talk to me, what do you want me to do?”
Your lashes flutter. “What?”
“You said red,” he reminds you. “Which means we stop. But I need to know if you’re in pain or if I can pull out?”
It takes a moment for you to blink the fog from your mind and understand. But when you do, your stomach wrenches. “I…wait, shit, I…I want you to finish, I just…I saw her photo, and—”
“I know,” he interrupts softly. He gives you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But red means stop. And we’re gonna honor that. No matter why you said it.”
You whimper. “Harry, wait—”
“I’m gonna pull out,” he says, ignoring your plea. “And then we’re gonna talk—”
“Harry…Harry come on, you can’t—”
But he does. Even though he winces as slips himself out, teeth gritting together to keep from coming. 
But once he’s out, he delicately closes your legs, and sits beside you. “Okay,” he begins. He keeps your eyes on him. “What’s going on up there?” 
He nods at your forehead and you want to cry. “Nothing, I just…I…”
“You’ve never seen her before.”
You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”
“And you weren’t expecting to see her now,” he says for you. “Especially when we were fucking.”
You sniffle. “It felt like we were cheating. Like I was helping you hurt her. And then…and then I got worried that maybe you only brought me back here so you could pretend I was her. You know? With all the stuff about…about babies…and us, and…and—”
“Okay, breathe,” he instructs. He cups your cheek and presses his thumb to your trembling lips. “Breathe, Tink. Slow.”
Forced to obey, you suck in shallow gasps for air until your heart rate slows and your head doesn’t feel so dizzy.
Pleased, he says, “I know you’re not her, Tink. I don’t want you to be.”
Your expression softens.
“I brought you here because you’re the only person I want to see in the place she once lived,” he continues. His voice is strong. Steady. Like he’s given this far more thought than you anticipated. “After she died, I left it the same. I didn’t touch anything. Not the furniture she picked out. Not the dumb, cute little bowls she insisted we buy. Not the coffee pot that doesn’t work but she loved because she swore it made her coffee taste better. None of it.”
The tears fall down your cheeks, fast and without mercy. 
“I didn’t invite people over because I wanted to pretend she still lived here,” he tells you. “I wanted it to still be our place. Not just mine. And the thought of bringing someone else back here felt…wrong.”
You grab onto his wrist to keep his hand close and he smiles. 
“And then you,” he murmurs, dipping down to nuzzle his nose against yours. A display of affection you’d never expect from him. “And yeah, you’re annoying, and I hate you. But she would have fucking loved you.”
You nearly sob. 
“I want you here,” he says. “I want to talk about getting you pregnant and having our babies. I want to fuck you on this bed and I want to make you cry for a very different reason.”
You laugh through the tears.
“Look, I don’t believe in guardian angels and an afterlife and all that shit,” he admits. “But sometimes, I swear she sent you to me. And yeah, I probably should have moved the picture first. That was my fault, I haven’t had anyone in here in a while. But…you’re not her, Tink. You’re you. And that’s exactly who I want you to be.”
You can’t stop the next wave of emotion as you sling your arms around his neck and pull him close. He chuckles in your embrace but doesn’t fight you. He holds you, too. For as long as you both need.
“I hate you, too,” you finally whisper.
He smiles.
“Harry?”
“Mm?”
“…can we please finish now?”
He leans back to see you. “Are you sure?”
“Very.” You kiss him. “After all, you promised to get me pregnant. And I can’t leave until you do, Daddy."
The groan against your lips is delicious and devious.
And it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
“As you wish.”
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