#open relationship!harry
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Insufferable You*
Summary: The third part to Infinite You*
The one where Harry is still in an open relationship with your best friend, so maybe it's time to remind him what he's missing.
Word Count: 7.3k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, edging, spanking, brief exhibitionism, sir kink, masturbation, brief choking
“Kitten…what are you doing?”
Your whimpers are airy. Light. A string of breathless pleas woven between the soft sounds of your fingers fucking into your cunt. And you can’t answer his question. Can’t find the strength to pull yourself away from the pleasure between your thighs.
“Kitten,” he asks again and it’s firm. “Talk to me.”
He’s panting through his request and the sound—the image in your head of the way he must look, fucking his fist to the melody of your voice almost hurts you.
“I’m…I’m playing with my clit,” you answer. He groans. “Just like you do.”
“Just like me, hm?” He curses on his end of the phone and your legs shake. “How?”
“M’pinching it,” you tell him. “And pulling it. The way you like.”
His noises are louder. Needier. He must like the image in his head, too. “God, I’d give anything to see it, baby. Give fucking anything to watch you touch yourself for me.”
Anything. Anything. You shiver. “Yeah? You’d watch me?”
“Mhm.” He’s getting closer and you don’t want this to end. “Sit there on my knees and take every drop in my mouth when you’re done.”
Your hips buck up and your fingers sink deeper. He ruins you even when he’s not here. “I know,” you whisper. Your eyes squeeze shut. “And I’d let you.”
He makes a sound that might be a laugh but could be a strained moan. You aren’t sure. But you don’t really care because it’s beautiful, no matter what it is. “Kitten,” he exhales and your insides twist. “I need you to cum for me, okay? I need to hear you. God, I need to fucking hear you, baby, let me. Come on—”
There’s something in the way he speaks. Like he’s just woken up. Rough and low and thick. He sounds like sex and you miss hearing it in person. But you were desperate—you had to call him. You had to hear him talk you through this moment and you’re so glad you did.
When you cum, it’s everything. Perhaps not as satisfying as when it’s with him, but still euphoric. And your whimpers of pleasure are what send him over the edge.
The phone fills with the sounds of your ecstasy and you wish you could record the way he moans your name. You wish you could bottle this feeling and get drunk on the way he adores you.
Instead, you indulge in the few moments you have with him. Because you know they won’t last much longer.
“That was good,” you tell him breathlessly and he chuckles. “How are you so good at that? Even over the phone?”
“Could ask you the same thing. Now I’ve got a sticky hand and nobody to clean it up.”
You pout. “Stop, don’t tell me that. It’s not fair.”
He laughs again. “Sorry, Kitten. Couldn’t help it. You all right? You feel better?”
“I do. Thank you for letting me call you.”
“Always.”
Your heart skips. “So…what are you up to today?”
There’s a pause. A long pause and you know what he’s going to say even before he says it. “Rebecca and I are running some errands.”
“Oh.” Oh. Your throat goes dry. “Right…sorry, I’m…you probably need to go, don’t you?”
Another pause. “In a bit,” he says. “After I make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” you say far too quickly. And far too obviously forced. “Yeah, no, I’m…duh. Obviously I’m okay now. After…yeah. Okay, sorry. You can…I’ll talk to you later—"
“Kitten.”
You stop. “What? I’m…I’m letting you go—”
“Don’t. I want to talk to you a little longer.”
“But you’re busy—”
“It can wait.”
Swallowing, you whisper, “Harry, I’m…I’m just saying—”
“So am I.” He’s firm again. “Don’t do that. Don’t send me away because of her. We can talk. I promise.”
Your eyes squeeze shut. You force the tears back. Why does orgasming make you so emotional? “I know, I just…she’s there, isn’t she?”
Another beat. “Not in the room.”
“But she’s there. In the apartment. Near you.”
“Yes.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “See, that’s…that’s why I’m letting you go. So you can be with her. Okay? I’ll talk to you later—”
“Kitten.”
“Harry.” You huff if only to make yourself sound stronger than you feel. “I’m okay. You can go.”
“You’re not okay. You’re sad.”
“I’m…no, I’m not sad, I’m just…I’m tired. I came really hard.”
“I know you.”
“Well…you don’t know me that well. Cause I’m fine.”
“Baby—”
“Just go,” you insist. “I promise I’m okay as long as you are. I shouldn’t have called so early anyway, that was…I’m sorry. That was my mistake—”
“You can call when she’s here, you know that—”
“But I don’t want to.”
Another long pause that feels like an eternity. “Okay,” he finally murmurs and you pull the phone away to take in a shaky breath. “But I want your honesty. Okay?”
“Sure.”
“Are you really okay?”
Truthfully, you don’t know. “Yeah, I’m fine. Swear. Thanks for helping me. I’ll talk to you later?”
“You will,” he agrees. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Rebecca’s dinner.”
Fuck. You forgot. “Oh…right—”
“You’ll be there. Right?”
It doesn’t really feel like you have a choice. “I…I don’t know yet, I might be busy—”
“You’re not.”
“You don’t know that. I could have plans.”
“You do. With us.”
Us. Your nose scrunches. “I mean other plans—”
“You don’t.”
“I might—”
“You don’t. If you did, I’d know.”
“Well, that’s presumptuous.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. Because you talk to me. When I ask you a question, you answer honestly. You’re a good girl. I know you.”
Your chest feels tight again. “Well, I don’t tell you everything.”
“You should.”
“You don’t tell me.”
“Because you don’t ask.”
He’s right. You never ask him anything personal because honestly, you’re afraid of what he’ll say.
“Fine,” you agree. “I’ll be there. Are we done?”
He waits a moment before saying, “We’re not done. We’ll discuss this later. But for right now, yes.”
And even if he sounds a bit strict, you can’t help smiling. “Yes, Sir.”
“Mm. That’s my girl. Take it easy today, all right?”
“I will.”
“Good. See you tomorrow, Kitten.”
“Goodbye, Sir.”
He chuckles and you hang up and even despite everything else…you can’t help but grin.
“Oh, my god. He does. Every time. He’s got such a weird thing with feet.”
You laugh. “It wasn’t so bad at first. But then he got a little too comfortable—”
“No, he does that. He really does.” Rebecca smirks as she throws the freshly chopped carrots into her pot. “And it started out cute, but now…”
You both glance into the living room where Harry is relaxing on the sofa. He’s smiling as he watches the two of you work on the food and even if he can’t hear you, he must know you’re talking about him.
“It’s still cute,” you argue in his defense. “Gross…but cute.”
She laughs. “Yeah, I guess he can be cute when he wants to be.”
You grin together and this feels good. You’ve missed your friend. You’ve missed having someone to laugh with, gossip with. And maybe it was strange at first, to come into their apartment and talk to your best friend about sleeping with her boyfriend.
But after a minute or two, you settled right back into the familiar rhythm of your friendship. And it almost felt…normal.
“Has he done the thing where his left leg starts to shake when he gets overstimulated?” she asks and you nearly snort.
“Oh, my god. Yes. The other day. I thought he was having a heart attack.”
“It’s the funniest thing. It just started, too. Couple years ago. He swears it doesn’t but like…I can see it.”
“It’s quite the tell,” you agree and you can’t help the way your eyes drift back to where he’s lounging on the sofa.
He notices and smirks at you.
“What?” you call.
He shrugs. “Nothing. You girls are cute, that’s all.”
“Bite me,” Rebecca says and he chuckles. “We’re not cute. We’re hot.”
“Absolutely,” he agrees. He leans forward. “Let me guess. You’re telling her about the leg thing?”
“Yup. And I was right,” she says smugly. “She sees it, too.”
His eyes roll but he smiles at you. “It’s not that bad—”
“No, it is,” she argues. “You look like a dog. A very cute dog, but still.”
He laughs a little louder and you’re almost jealous of their dynamic. A dynamic you’ve been witness to for almost five years. And it’s never made you jealous before.
But now…
She puts the soup on simmer and grabs your hand to lead you to the living room. “I told you we were gonna gossip about you,” she reminds him. “All good things, don’t worry.”
“I’m sure.” He smiles at you both as you take a seat on the sofa. She flops down right beside him while you cautiously sit on the other end. Exactly where you’d been that first day you agreed to this arrangement. “This is nice,” he says.
She hums. “Yeah, it feels like old times.” She glances toward you. “And it’s not weird…is it? I mean, you feel okay?”
Feeling a little hot under the spotlight, you swallow and force a quick shake of your head. “No, this is…it’s good. This is fun.”
However, she knows you better than anyone and her brows pull together as she studies you. “Do you have any questions? Or anything we can clear up?”
“Uh…I don’t know.” Truthfully, you don’t want to ask. “Is it…is it weird for you guys?”
They both shake their heads, almost as if in sync, and you resist the urge to scrunch your nose.
“Do you…have any regrets?”
“No,” she says and Harry agrees. “None. Do you?”
“No,” you echo. “No, I just…I don’t know. This still kind of feels like cheating.”
They exchange a glance and your heart skips. You’re even jealous of the way they look at each other.
“Rebecca and I have always agreed that whatever the other decides to do is their business,” Harry says. “As long as we communicate, there's freedom there. No judgment, no expectations, no regret.”
“And no jealousy,” she adds, offering you a soft smile. “Or shame. Or anything like that.”
You nod and pick at a loose string on your jeans. “And are you two…I mean do you still…”
“No,” she assures you and you’re thankful she figured out what you meant. “No, we haven’t in a few weeks.”
“Oh…because of me?”
She shakes her head while Harry says, “Not entirely. Most of it is for safety reasons. Keeping things clean and respectful. But it’s also one of our rules.”
“Rules?”
“We have a few rules we like to follow,” she explains. “It just makes it easier. Sometimes it can be tricky and this helps keep us on the same page.”
“And no sex is one of them?”
“Kind of. We don’t sleep together if one of us is seeing someone else. Well, no penetration, anyway.”
You hate the way your stomach sinks. “Oh. And…do you date other people…a lot?”
He looks over at her and she thinks. “Not…really?” she says. “I don’t think, anyway.”
“Jack was the last guy you were with, right?” Harry asks and she snaps her fingers.
“Jack. Right. Yeah. He was cute. And then yours was…Angie? I think?”
He nods. “Last year.”
“She was nice.”
“She was…sure. Yeah. She was nice.”
Rebecca laughs and he grins proudly, happy to have made her laugh. Your nose scrunches.
“She wasn’t that bad,” Rebecca argues. “She was just put in a weird position.”
“Literally and figuratively.”
She smacks his arm playfully and he pinches her thigh. You want to look away.
“Either way,” she finally says, “we don’t very often. And I don’t think of it as cheating. Especially not with you. Because I know he’s a good partner and I know that you deserve someone as kind as he is.”
He gives her a grateful grin before returning his attention to you. “We can stop if you want. Because I agree with Bex. I wouldn’t want to lose you as my friend and if you feel pressured or unsure—”
“I don’t,” you nearly rush to argue. “No, I don’t, I…I’m just really struggling with the dynamics of it. I guess.”
“Trust me, I get it,” she says gently. “It was a bit of a learning curve for us, too. Harry can get incredibly jealous.”
You’re tempted to tell her that you already know but you watch his reaction instead.
His eyes roll but then his stare returns to you and he winks, as though he’s recalling the same memory you are.
It makes your skin feel warm.
“Oop, hold on. I gotta check the soup,” Rebecca suddenly exclaims before jumping off the sofa to rush back to the kitchen.
And now left alone together, your attention is drawn back to the tall, handsome man you can already feel staring at you.
“Any more questions?” he asks softly. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and somehow, even that makes you feel safer.
“Just one,” you murmur and he nods. “Does this mean you and I are…dating? Or are we just fucking until I can find somebody else?”
There’s a slight edge in your voice that you hadn’t meant to be there, but he picks up on it instantly.
“Are you looking for somebody else?” he asks.
“Not really. But this whole thing started because you both felt bad for me,” you remind him. “And it’s been a lot of fun. Honestly. But you are kind of on loan. I just…I’m not sure what this makes our situation. If we’re just fucking…or more.”
He takes a moment to think about his answer, eyes flicking between yours almost as though studying you. “Would you like there to be more?”
You bite back huff. He’s very good at redirecting. “I don’t know. Would you?”
“I think more can get complicated.”
Your feel your expression fall. “Right.”
“And I don’t want to lose you from my life for good,” he continues. “You know that. Neither of us want to lose you—”
“Right, yeah. It’s fine. Forget I asked.”
He’s frowning now. “Kitten, don’t do that—”
“No, really,” you argue. “It’s fine. You’re right. Let’s just keep it like this until I can find somebody else.”
The frown turns into a glare. “Kitten—”
“Okay, soup is almost done,” Rebecca announces as she returns. This time she sits next to you and throws an arm around your shoulder. “What did I miss?”
The tension is palpable. You speak first. “I was just telling Harry that I might not need his services much longer.”
Rebecca’s eyebrows raise while Harry’s scowl deepens.
“Oh?” she asks.
You nod. “Well, seeing as we don’t want to do anything to ruin the friendship…I thought I’d give Ethan a call.”
It’s mean and perhaps a bit cruel, but you can’t help yourself. You aren’t trying to hurt him. Because he is right. And don’t want to lose him for good, either, and all this evening has truly done is prove how close he and Rebecca actually are.
You’ll never be able to compete with five years of love and affection. And maybe you don’t want to.
Maybe it’s time to move on.
“Ethan?” Harry repeats while Rebecca perks up.
“Yes,” she squeals excitedly. “Oh, I was hoping you would. He’s so nice, I think you guys would be perfect together.”
“Yeah,” you agree with a pointed look at Harry. “I think so, too.”
He knows what you’re doing. You can tell. And he’s oddly calm as he leans against the cushions and tosses his arms over the back of the couch. “And who the fuck is this Ethan?”
“Guy from my work,” you answer, equally as calm. “Nice. He’s been asking me out for a while.”
“A while.”
“Yeah, a while.”
His brows furrow. “So why do you want to go out with him now?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “He was never really my type before but we’ve gotten closer recently. I think it’s only fair I give him a real chance.”
“Really?” He’s curious. Maybe skeptical. “Now?”
You nod. “That way the three of us can preserve our friendship. Since that is the most important thing.”
“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Rebecca tells you and hugs you to her side. “You’ll have to let us know how it goes.”
You grin and it’s all teeth. “I will.”
Dinner is nice. Tense but nice. You and Harry spend a majority of the meal exchanging icy glances and keeping to yourselves, leaving Rebecca to do most of the conversing.
And she doesn’t seem to notice. That or she merely pretends not to. She catches you up on some drama at work. Teases Harry about his sleep talking. Says she’s planning to visit her parents in a few weeks and then gives you the recipe for the soup.
And you and Harry nod politely, despite the unspoken rage from your ends of the table.
When dinner is finished, Harry offers to clean up and do the dishes. She kisses him on the cheek gratefully and says she’s gonna go take a quick shower since she’s got an early day tomorrow. She tells you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like and then she hugs you tightly and whispers, “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”
You hug her back and agree.
The moment she’s gone, Harry sets down his sponge and turns to you. “Come here.”
You hesitate by the front door, itching to escape. But he’s firm as he watches you from the sink, eyebrow raised and jaw clenched, leaving you no choice but to listen.
“Kitten,” he repeats. Lower. Sterner. “Come. Here.”
You take a tentative step toward him. “What?”
“We need to talk.”
“Do we?”
“Kitten.”
You huff and throw your purse back down. “I really don’t think we need to—”
“I don’t care what you think. I’m telling you that we’re gonna have a chat and you’re gonna come in here like a good fucking girl and talk to me.”
This is how he gets you. This is how he pulls your strings and turns you around until you obediently join him in the kitchen. Like a good fucking girl.
Satisfied, he leans back against the counter. “Now. What’s this Ethan shit you pulled?”
“It’s not shit, it’s real,” you huff. “He really did ask me out and I really am going to say yes.”
“But you haven’t yet.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I told you. He wasn’t my type—”
“No, I want the real answer.”
You frown. “That is the real answer—”
“No,” he repeats. “It’s not. And you know it.”
You cross your arms and look down at your shoes. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He wasn’t my type but now he is.”
The argument lulls and the small kitchen falls silent. You hear him sigh and it almost hurts to hear how heavy his disappointment hangs.
But a moment later, he’s slipping his fingers beneath your chin and raising your eyes to his. They’re soft. Serene. Filled with everything he can’t seem to find the words to say and you hate how quickly your body begins to crave him.
“You aren’t being honest with me, baby,” he murmurs. Your lashes flutter. “You aren’t communicating with me. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you say and he sighs like he knows this is a lie. “Really, I just…I know myself. If I don’t put a bit of distance between us…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to breathe on my own.”
This makes him sad and it hurts you to know you’ve made him sad. “Kitten,” he whispers. He steps closer until his chest is brushing against yours. “If I’m doing something wrong—”
“You’re not. That’s the problem.” You swallow and he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “You’re doing everything right and I’m worried I’m gonna want you in ways that I shouldn’t.”
“Do you not want to want me?”
“Not…like that,” you admit. “Not when you’re still hers.”
He frowns. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about anyone else—”
“But I do. Because at the end of the day, you’re still her Harry. You’re on loan to me until one of you decides you shouldn’t be anymore—”
“Kitten—”
“And I can’t be with you in any way but physically. You said so yourself. More would get complicated and even if you wanted to be with me…I don’t think I could share you.”
He considers this. A long moment passes. “So you’re punishing me,” he says. “You’re going out with this Ethan guy to prove that you don’t need me.”
“What? No.” You lean back but he doesn’t let go of your chin. “I mean…okay, maybe I wanted to piss you off a little but I really do think I need to be with someone else in order to truly move on. I’m not punishing you. I’m…obeying you. If anything.”
He scoffs. “If you really wanted to obey me, you would have talked to me about what you were feeling.”
“I tried. You said more would get complicated.”
“It could. There’s always that risk. But I never said it wouldn’t be worth it.”
“So…what? You’d date me?”
“Of course.”
The answer is quick and it surprises you but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.
You blink. “You…really? You would date me? Like…officially?”
“I would.”
“And…what about Rebecca?”
“What about her?”
“You’d…you’d still be with her? Right? Even if we were together?”
He seems to know what you’re implying and sighs quietly. “Yes. I would.”
“And even if you weren’t…I’m assuming you would still want to be in an open relationship with me?”
Another pause. “Probably,” he admits, and even if you knew it was coming, you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. “That’s just the agreement I’ve always felt most comfortable with—”
“And that’s fine. I get it,” you assure him. You sniffle and he seems to wilt. “Really. I just…like I said, I don’t do well with sharing and if…if all we’re doing is fucking, I might as well just find somebody else, right? So that way the three of us can stay friends. And it doesn’t have to get weird.”
“I understand,” he says and you know he does. “I do, Kitten. And I would never keep you in a relationship you’re not comfortable in.” A beat. “But I can’t say that I like the idea of you going out with this guy.”
You smile. Gently. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
He looks down at you and takes your cheek in his hand. “You’re my girl,” he says. “No matter what. If you’re with me or not with me. You’re my fucking girl. And he doesn’t deserve even a second of your time.”
You fight a large grin and cling to his shirt. “You can’t say stuff like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“Because.” You play with his buttons. “You don’t get to be jealous when you’re still with her.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna like seeing you with someone else.”
You pout. “That’s not fair, Harry.”
“I know.” He brings his lips to yours. They hover—close—but never make contact. “I can’t help it. Can’t ever seem to help it when it comes to you.”
You want to push up and take his kiss, but he teases you just a little longer. “Harry—”
“Do you know that, Kitten?” His hands drop to your waist and he squeezes. Even though Rebecca is only two rooms away. Even though you can hear her humming in the bath. Even though he can never be yours. “Do you know how much I think about you?”
You swallow. Thick.
“How I think about the way you asked me to take care of you…” He ghosts his mouth down your neck. “The way you begged me to be rough….to spank you. Choke you. Degrade you.”
His voice is a sin and your eyes fall shut.
“Do you want me to degrade you, baby?” His fingers slip beneath your shirt. “Do you want me to pull you on my lap and spank you until you’re crying?”
The image in your head is somehow even better than his taunting. Your knees about buckle. “Harry…”
“You can find somebody else if you want to,” he whispers. “But do you really think they’ll be able to care of you the way I do? The way you want? The way you deserve?”
His kisses find your chest while his knee slots between your thighs.
“I know how naughty you really are, baby girl,” he says and it’s over. “He will never know.”
You grab his hair and he grabs your hips and you’re on the counter before you can even whisper his name. He pushes the hem of your dress up and guides your legs apart. He makes a home there, finger curling around the crotch of your panties in order to get a taste and it’s magic. Always.
And he does this to you only a few hundred feet away from where his girlfriend is innocently taking a shower. He does this, knowing she could walk out and see. He does this and you let him do this because there is no world in which you stop him.
“Harry,” you say—whimper—and he hums. His tongue licks up your cunt and your head drops back. “Har—wait—”
He doesn’t. He holds your thighs beside his cheeks and he sucks on your clit until you begin to squirm. “You promised to stay for dessert,” he says. “This is my dessert.”
The sounds are loud and beautiful and his curls feel good in your hands. You feel good in his.
Things fall to the ground. Bowls, pots, containers. He grins. He likes this, the danger. And he knows you like it, too. Because if you really wanted him to stop, he would.
But you don’t. And you yank him closer to your pussy as though this will be the last time he ever gets a taste.
And deep down, you wonder if it is.
Either way, you enjoy his tongue and his lips and the tip of his nose that nudges your clit so expertly. You wonder how it’s possible to be so addicted to a man you’re not even with. A man that only recently started fucking you and a man that you’ve only ever considered a friend.
Part of you wants to get caught. Part of you wants things to implode. To believe that he’s doing this because he wants her to find out. Because what would happen if she saw? What would happen if he realized he wanted to end things? Would he be yours? Would he decide that your time and your heart and your pussy were infinitely more important than his sexual prowess?
You scrunch your nose. These are all the wrong questions. Harry doesn’t work like that. He never has and you can’t expect something from him that he won’t ever give you.
You return your focus to him. To the way his large hands are curling around your thighs and hoisting them up on the counter. You love his hands. You think they might be your favorite hands in the world.
They’re so gentle but strong. Practiced. You know they’d look good anywhere on your body. Your thighs, your chest, your throat…
You whimper at the thought and he glances up. He’s proud again. Drenched in your arousal and the evidence of your lust for him.
He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg and nips. He leaves marks and memories along the soft skin and you can’t wait to stare at them whenever he’s not around. The way he makes you his in the only way he can.
And you’re so close. You aren’t even sure how he got you here so quickly but he always seems to. And you don’t mind. Instead, you fist his hair and you buck against his tongue and he’s going to make you cum all over his girlfriend’s kitchen counter.
And then he stops.
He stops, he lets you go, and he pulls away.
Your heart drops to your toes as the orgasm fizzles down to nothing. “What…what are you—"
“Get down,” he says curtly. He slaps your outer thigh. “We’re leaving.”
He doesn’t tell you where you’re going. And you don’t ask. Instead, you watch as he wipes his mouth and disappears from the kitchen to wait by the front door.
After straightening your dress and readjusting your underwear, you scurry to his side with a fretful glance toward the bathroom. “Shouldn’t you tell her you’re going?”
He smiles. “She’ll figure it out.”
With that, you leave their apartment so he can take you back to your place and he keeps his hand on your thigh the whole drive. You wonder if he merely wants to keep some sort of claim on you or if it’s habit.
Either way, his thumb rubs circles into your skin, right over the dark spots made by his lips and you smile. You want to lace your fingers with his. Want to hold his hand and pretend like the two of you are on your way home from a date. To pretend like this is normal—an everyday occurrence.
But you lose your nerve and soon, he’s pulling into the parking lot.
“I want you upstairs,” he says and gives you a pointed look. “On the bed. Naked. And waiting for me by the time I come up.”
You nod quickly. “Okay. Are…am I in trouble—”
“That depends on if you obey.” He unlocks the door. “So let’s hope you do.”
Swallowing a giddy grin, you scurry from the vehicle and into your building. You don’t bother with tidying up or adjusting your appearance. You run straight into your bedroom, rip off your clothes, and spread out into a starfish position on the bed.
You hear him follow not much later. Slow, deliberate steps. Meant to taunt you, tease you. Make your stomach flip. And it works.
When you see his tall, muscular figure in the doorway, your pulse skips.
Smiling, you call, “Hi, Sir—”
“No speaking,” he says shortly. “Unless I say otherwise. Is that understood?”
“Yes—no—sorry, I’m…” You stop. Nod.
He frowns but you know it’s only to hide a smirk. “Don’t test me, Kitten. You’ve already done that enough this evening, have you not?”
Another nod.
“And you knew better, didn’t you?” He walks into the room and begins to unzip his jeans. “Knew better than to dangle fucking Ethan in my face.”
You nod again but your eyes are trained on his hands. On the fingers that pull the hem of his shirt up and over his head.
“And you fucking knew…that if I got a taste of such a sweet pussy…I’d never stop,” he murmurs. He crawls onto the bed, wearing nothing more than his briefs. “That I’d forgive you. And let you off the hook.”
You don’t nod this time. You can’t. You’re too far gone in the lust in his eyes. The gentle green that’s now dangerous and luring you in.
“Well,” he whispers and then he smiles. “You thought wrong.”
He grabs your thighs and flips you over. Before you know it, you’re on your stomach, head spinning, while a large palm comes down in a sharp smack to your ass.
You jolt. Shriek.
“Easy,” he says and he’s kinder now. “You’re gonna take your punishment like a good little whore, aren’t you?”
Now you understand. You see. And you settle onto the bed as he smooths the stinging print with the soft of his hand.
You nod.
“Good.” He spanks you again. “I think we should do one for every time you lied to me. For every time I asked for the truth…and you refused to give it to me.”
Your lashes flutter. You suppose that’s only fair, although in your defense, the truth would have only hurt him.
“Let’s see…we’ll start with five,” he says and you exhale a sigh of relief. “Because I know you don’t mean to be a bad girl, do you?”
You whimper.
“You want to be good. Want to behave for me.” He spanks you. Number three. “You want a lot of things from me, don’t you? And maybe I’m bad, too. For not being able to give them to you.”
The air in the room shifts and you attempt to glance back.
However, he lays another firm smack to your ass before you can and then squeezes your hip. “Come on, you’re almost done,” he coos. A beat passes. “Do you remember me mentioning the traffic light system?”
You nod.
“Red for stop, yellow for pause, green for good, keep going?”
Nod.
“Good. Then I want you to use your words and tell me what color you are right now. Honestly.”
“Green,” you whisper, then clear your throat and speak louder. “I’m green. Honestly.”
He hums. “And you’re gonna take your last strike, yes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And you’re gonna thank me for being so generous to such a selfish fucking whore?”
Your cheeks flush. Oh, he’s very good. “Yes, Sir.”
You still can’t see him but you can imagine his grin.
The last spank of his hand lands against your tender skin and somehow…it feels good. There’s something delicious about his pain. About the way he inflicts it. The way your body responds to it.
You groan—moan—and finally manage, “Thank you, Sir.”
He purrs something devious as he strokes the spot and begins to kiss his way up your spine. “Good fucking girl,” he breathes. The exhale of his praise dances across your back and you shiver. “Took your punishment so well. Wasn’t so bad, was it? Bet you even fucking liked, dirty thing. Didn’t you?”
You nod again and feel his knee begin to nudge its way back between your thighs.
“Let’s check, shall we?” His fingers move now for the mess you already know is there. And when he feels it, he curses. “Fucking shit, Kitten, you’re soaked.”
You are. You are soaked and you’re making a mess of your duvet and his knee and he still hasn’t let you cum yet and you think you might die if he waits any longer.
“Harry,” you nearly cry. “Please…please…”
He brings his kisses to the back of your neck. To the place below your ear that makes your stomach flip. He kisses. Sucks. Nips and violates the skin with his teeth.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Okay, but only because I know you need it.”
You nod again and begin to turn over. He goes to stop you—he wants to try from behind—but you insist.
“I want to see your face,” you say. “Please, I just…I need that tonight.”
The softness in his eyes and the fall of his expression almost hurts you. You don’t want to cause him pain or confusion. Ever.
But he’s not confused. He understands. And he agrees because maybe he needs it, too.
You pull him out of his briefs and he hikes your leg around his hip. Until the heel of your foot is digging into his ass and pulling him forward.
When he first pushes in, you both take a moment of silence to appreciate the beauty of your bodies connecting.
Harry was once your best friend and now he’s something else entirely. A completely different entity and you never imagined you’d see his cock disappearing into your cunt but now you don’t want to imagine his cock anywhere else.
When he’s about halfway in, he pulls back out and begins a steady pace. He’s large and he knows you need a moment or two to find the pleasure before he picks up a faster rhythm. So, he puts the focus on you. On your clit, on your thighs, on the way his lips feel against yours.
He kisses you—soft, sweet. Gentle. And then he kisses your neck. Your chest. Plays with your tits and whispers about how good they feel in his hand.
Then, he buries himself to the hilt as his hips find yours.
You arch and he catches you. There are more kisses, more soft murmurings. And there’s an intimacy here that doesn’t feel like sex. It feels like making love, a term you once scoffed at but now indulge in. Because maybe he does love you, in the only way he knows how. Maybe he does choose your body over hers. Maybe this was the best thing that ever could have happened to you.
You grab his hand and bring it to your throat. Pointed enough that he knows what you want and after a quick glance for consent…he squeezes.
Your lashes flutter and you press on his knuckles. Harder. He obeys.
And you were right. His hand does look good on your body. A necklace to wear proudly and he whispers your name before tightening his grip and allowing the sides of your sanity to go fuzzy before loosening his fingers.
You breathe. Deep. The air tastes like him and you love it.
He smiles. “You okay?”
“More than okay. That was…shit, I really like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Probably cause you’re doing it.”
He uses this hold to kiss you and it’s a mess of tongues and spit and loud sucking. It makes you giggle.
“You’re making this very hard for me,” he suddenly whispers.
“Well, I prefer you hard.”
He smirks, but this is not what he means. “I want this to work.”
“I know. I do, too.”
He surges forward—a sharp thrust. “It can’t work if Ethan’s in the picture.”
Oh. “Why? Because you need room for Rebecca?”
He sighs and you hate how sad it sounds. “I know I’m not being fair—”
“You’re not.”
“I can’t help it—”
“Well, neither can I.”
He stops for a moment and looks at you. “You have every right to go out with him. I know that. But I think I’ll lose my fucking mind if you do.” He continues to roll his body against yours and you want to purr. “So I want to make a deal.”
“Okay…”
“If you go out with Ethan, you go out with me,” he says. “If you date him, you date me. And I’ll play nice. I’ll share. But only until you realize he’s a waste of time.
You run your fingers along his shoulders. Along his back. Along the curve of his ass. You think about his proposition. It sounds good, it does. A way to keep him while also keeping your options open.
Because maybe this way, it won’t hurt so much when he still goes home to her.
“Can I think about it?” you ask.
He kisses you. “Of course. Always.”
You resume the languid but fervent pace he previously set. He squeezes your neck whenever he wants to hear you whimper and you scratch your nails down his spine whenever you want him to groan.
And it’s perfect. Truly. Because while you’re on this date with Ethan, he’ll be able to see the marks Harry left on your throat.
And when Harry goes back to Rebecca, she’ll see the scratches down his back made by your hands.
You can’t help but feel satisfied with the idea and it brings you that much closer as Harry presses your hips to the bed and begins to fuck into you harder.
He readjusts his stance above you, knees deep into the mattress and hands clutching the sheets beside your waist. And every thrust is purposeful. Hard. Beautiful. The sounds are symphonic and when you look down to see, you nearly mewl. The way his cock is absolutely fucking covered in you, slipping in and out of your cunt with ease and determination.
He’s beautiful when he’s focused. When he’s about to cum. You just want to kiss him and hold him and love him and be his.
And you fucking hate it.
“Need you to cum, baby,” he whispers and you nod in agreement. “Can you do that?”
“Yes….yes, Sir,” you stammer, already feeling the overwhelming power creep up your thighs. “I’m…I—”
“I know. I know, come on—”
You do. Just like that. Unravel like a spool of thread and dissolve into nothing but pleasure beneath him.
But you don’t feel him follow. In fact, he continues fucking you through your high until he suddenly pulls out and comes all over your swollen pussy.
It’s the most mesmerizing thing you think you’ve ever seen. The sticky substance paints your cunt in masterful strokes. Glistening from your body, your clit, your thighs like stars.
And you want to be disappointed that he didn’t finish inside but soon you understand why.
He takes your hand. Moves it closer and presses your fingers into the mess.
“Touch it,” he whispers. “Fuck it back in.”
Your eyes widen. He smiles but the look in his eye is mischievous and deranged.
“Go on, Kitten,” he says. “I wanna watch.”
Your arms are shaking. In fact, every part of you is still shaking from your orgasm but you obey. You slowly—very slowly—begin to circle your touch around your clit. Feeling the way it nearly throbs as you stimulate it. As you force it into more pleasure.
Harry’s attention is glued to the show before him as he swallows thickly and you swear you can almost see his heart beating against his chest like a cartoon.
You move down. Collect as many drops of him as you can and slowly begin to ease two fingers into your fluttering hole.
When you reach the knuckle, you gasp and he exhales.
It’s perfect.
He scoots back until he can lay on his stomach and place his cheek against your thigh. Close. Close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your hand.
And he watches. Happy. A lazy smile on those beautiful, pink lips. Lashes fluttering every time you whimper or whine.
“I…I can’t,” you whisper. The sensations are too strong. You’ve already cum once, you can’t possibly cum again so soon.
He hums. “Yes, you can. Let me see, baby. Let me watch.”
And you almost want to be embarrassed but something else seems to take over your mind entirely and you can’t help but go faster.
You pinch and curl and flex. You push his offering as far into you as you can reach and then you push in a little more. And it’s easier this time, even if it almost hurts. But you cum. You do, right in front of his very eyes until he’s quickly grabbing hold of you as though he’s desperate to be closer.
You’re more than a puddle this time. You’re practically limp but you’re also so incredibly happy. And he smiles brightly as he pulls your fingers away and puts them in his mouth.
You don’t even have the energy to make a noise this time. You merely watch him—content—until he starts kissing down your palm, along your arm, and to your chest.
Then, he pulls you into his embrace and you both indulge in a moment of peace.
You’re both quiet for a while. Even after your heartbeat has steadied. Even after the sweat on your skin has dried and the room no longer feels so warm.
You run your fingers down his torso. Along the dips and curves of his muscles that seem more defined every time you see him.
“You’re insufferable,” you finally say and he laughs. The sound bounces between the walls of your room—joyous and unencumbered—and it makes you giddy. He doesn’t laugh like this for her. “What? You are.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Another beat. Longer.
Then, you whisper, “Okay.”
He looks down. “Okay?”
“I’ll agree to your deal.”
“Really?” He’s grinning again. Big.
“Mhm. As long as I get to keep you in some way…maybe it’ll be worth it.”
He seems to sadden at the use of the word maybe, but he brushes it off before you can comment on it. Instead, he pulls you closer and kisses you hard. Forever.
And maybe…this won’t be so bad.
Previous Part:
~ Insatiable You* (Pt. 2)
~ Full Infinite You Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921
#harry#harry styles#harry edward styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan#harry styles smut#harry styles request#harry styles concept#smut#concept#friend!harry#harry and kitten#open relationship!harry#soft dom!harry
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Paparazzi
request: can you write one where Harry and y/n get swarmed by paparazzi really abruptly and one of them hurts her either accidentally or on purpose and Harry flips? Tysm!
A/N: I love this idea! Thanks so much. I found this gif and omg it’s of a fan who got hit by paparazzi and Harry stuck up for them immediately!! Such a kind soul and pretty convenient for this story… lol! Enjoy(:
©️ please do not copy or translate my work.
“C’mon. It’s getting busy let’s just go home.” Harry’s voice was soft as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, lifting up the two small takeaway boxes that were filled with your left over food. It was always a risk being out in public especially for Harry because it would only take one person to spread the news then it would be nightmarish. He secured his arm further around you leaving a few money notes on the table as a tip for the waitress before he walked out with you keeping his arm around you, boxes of food held underneath his arm as you both walked in the direction of where Harry had parked.
As you continued walking Harry started looking around and you knew what that meant: paparazzi. He often had the knack for spotting cameras taking pictures of him and once again his “sixth sense” didn’t fail him. “Harry are they following us?” You asked anxiously his green eyes locking with yours “just keep walking.” His arm slid down to your waist as he began making you walk at his speed, attempting to lose the photographers— they weren’t even photographers. More like money hungry assholes who just loved to ruin every moment to get a simple picture of celebs. It was stupid. You leaned into harry further feeling your nerves wrap around you shaky breaths leaving your mouth.
“Mr styles!!”
“Harry over here!”
“How does it feel being in a relationship with the Harry styles?”
“Hold still!!”
Mixtures of yells came from all around you suddenly, loud running which sounded like a herd of elephants only made your heart race in your chest “keep your head down.” Harry spoke quietly and you did as he said, keeping your head down him doing the same as he kept a tight grip on you guiding you through the crowd of rowdy paps. Your eyes couldn’t comprehend the amount of flashes blurring your vision the brightness blinding you almost as the paparazzi continued to yell at you both, purposely getting in Harry’s way to get a shot of his face. God were you glad you were wearing jeans. You had heard horror stories of paparazzis taking pictures up celebs partners dresses or skirts which was beyond fucked. “Have you got anymore upcoming films?” One paparazzi spoke to Harry, god they were not giving up were they. “You’ll find out soon enough.” Harry muttered harshly through gritted teeth, yet his lips remained in a thin line making him look calm despite wanting to punch their faces.
“Y/n does Harry satisfy you in—“ “hey, man shut the fuck up.” Harry demanded glaring into the paparazzis eyes, the man right in front of you as all the other greedy men took loads of pictures of Harry’s face Harry quickly pulled you round to his other side getting you further away from the vile man before he grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers with yours, repositioning the food into his other hand as he pulled you gently through the crowd. Snaps of the cameras were heard as the lenses focused on Harry’s face, his eyes, your terrified expression some of the photos blurry and unusable but some good the paparazzi’s clearly proud of their work yet they didn’t stop.
“We’re so hungry Harry! We’ve been working all night whilst you fondue with your girlfriend!” Fondue? Was this pap serious? For fucks sake. You rolled your eyes before Harry abruptly stopped shoving the food into the paps arms “there. Take the food and leave us be.” He demanded the one pap immediately leaving clearly happy. God did you hope he didn’t try to sell “Harry styles’ food’ on eBay. Harry tugged you further away as the car soon came into view until all of that went to the back of Harry’s mind as suddenly one of the paparazzis behind you purposely pushed you hard— taking a picture of you as you plummeted to the ground, camera catching your ass the cruel man grinning— Harry’s grip on your hand making sure you didn’t hurt yourself as he quickly helped you stand up again before he looked back at the paparazzi “it’s so rude to do that” he spat out, glaring at the man Harry’s jaw remaining clenched “did you take a picture of that?” He soon asked taking a threatening step towards the man “harry…” you whispered yet your voice was drowned out by the sound of the cameras taking hundreds of pictures their desperation showing. “No.” He spoke smirking but Harry wasn’t impressed instead ripping the camera from the man’s neck before looking through the pictures which consisted of your ass more than anything Harry’s eyes dangerous as he looked at the photographer with cold eyes “how fucking dare you.” He spoke before shaking his head “you’re going to delete all these pictures right fucking now.” He demanded you reaching out to touch his arm “harry its okay I—“ “no way am I doing that. That’s all my work.” Harry clenched his jaw but tried to remain calm “fine. Thanks for the free camera.” He spoke coldly before shoving the man back and grabbing onto your hand again as he hurriedly pushed past the paparazzis ignoring their yells as he walked you to his car opening the door for you helping you get in before he shut the door,
“That’s my camera mr styles! You take it and I’ll sue you!” The man yelled Harry glancing at him knowing he shouldn’t do this but he didn’t care at this point “here— catch” he threw the camera at the man, the camera sliding through the man’s hand and crashing to the ground the lens smashing “oh no. That was your fault.” Harry spoke sarcastically before he got into his car shutting the door and locking the car before he reversed, the tyre of his car rolling over the camera— the paparazzi shouting, hitting the window “you’re so done!” He yelled at Harry and Harry paused rolling down the window “you have an issue. I’ll see you in court.” He spoke simply knowing the man wouldn’t even dare to take it to court as he would have a whole lot of list of allegations against him. Sexual assault. Assault. GBH. Everything. Harry then drove off abruptly his hands clenched around the steering wheel you breathing heavily as you stared down at your hands, hands trembling slightly. Harry didn’t say anything the whole drive but eventually his hand came down to rest against your thigh which he squeezed gently, thumb caressing over the material of your jeans attempting to comfort you.
“Are you okay?” He soon spoke only earning a nod from you, the car stopped at a red light before he reached over grabbing onto your chin gently as he forced you to look at him “are you okay?” You nodded sighing shakily “they’re just assholes.” You murmured softly and Harry chuckled “assholes one way to describe them… they’re greedy for money and attention. Something I won’t give them.” You sighed holding onto his hand tightly “I won’t let that happen again, y/n.” He spoke but he was promising that he wouldn’t let it happen again. No way. He then intertwined his fingers with yours bringing your hand up to his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your hand but he meant it. If the paparazzi tried to do anything again he wouldn’t just let them off with a warning— he’d break all their cameras even if he had to pay for new ones he didn’t care. Cameras could be replaced. You couldn’t…. And he knew that damn well. He couldn’t lose you, ever. He wouldn’t.
#x reader#harry edward styles#harry styles#harry styles x y/n#yn#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x fem!reader#paparazzi#protective harry#fem reader#harry x fem reader#harry x y/n#harrystyles#requests open#requested#comfort stories#relationship#harry x reader#harry x you#imagines
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Harry: Why do Parker and Hardison call you ‘Baby girl’?
Eliot: How about we stop talking for awhile?
#leverage: redemption#Leverage#leverage ot3#Eliot Spencer#Harry Wilson#Local Cowboy doesn’t realise he’s been in an open poly relationship for the last 14 years
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2.23 “The Thaw” // 7.25 “Endgame”
insp. by @70thousandlightyearsfromhome‘s tags
#relationships that make me want to chew drywall#kathryn janeway#harry kim#star trek voyager#st voyager#st voy#i completely missed this in the thaw until i saw those tags#and yeah. yeah. :(#theres a lot i hate about endgame but...their moments? spot on tbh#also i really wanted to include when she nudges his cheek in the opening scene but couldnt get a good screenshot#but it happens and its adorable
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Betrayed
Prompt: Your father is the head of a criminal enterprise, one which has come onto the kingsman’s radar. Galahad has the task to get closer to said head, so he starts dating you. After a lot of apprehension on your side, you finally let your walls be broken down by him. That is until you find out that he’s been using you all along.
Pairing: Harry Hart x (GN!)Reader
Fandom: Kingsman
Tags/Warnings: angst, manipulation, established relationship
Word count: 2569
A soft knock on the front-door of your apartment draws you from the book you were reading, pride and prejudice. You had started reading it after your boyfriend, Harry, had recommended it to you. Standing up, you quietly walk to the door and look through the peep-hole. It was him, which was unexpected and unusual, but it excited you nonetheless, as it had been quite a while since you last saw him. He had been away on a business trip to Canada for two weeks and the time difference made calling a challenge, especially with his job requiring to stay up late often.
Opening the door, you notice that he’s wearing a new suit. While it still fits his usual colour-scheme with it being a darker grey with a white pinstripe, it has some red detailing around the buttons. The fit of the three-piece-suit was impeccable as always, accentuating him in all the right places. ‘Evening Harry.’ Your voice is cheerful as you greet him, ‘ I wasn’t expecting you to be back yet.’ He smiles softly at you, ‘I was hoping to surprise you.’ Leaning down, he kisses you, after which he pulls you into a hug.
‘I missed you, love.’ You tighten your grip around him. ‘I missed you too.’
Ever since the two of you had started dating three years ago, the two of you saw each-other at least twice a week when he wasn’t on a business-trip. He kisses the top of your head before slowly letting go of the hug. ‘Tea?’ You ask him as you walk towards the kitchen, ‘or would you prefer something stronger?’ It was half past eight on a Friday evening, so having a glass of wine or bourbon together wasn’t out of the ordinary. ‘How about some whiskey?’ He replies following you, his hand on the small of your back. ‘Sounds lovely’ you smile, ‘I should have some in my liquor cabinet.’
While you grab two glasses, he looks at your collection. Since you started seeing him it has grown significantly. He enjoyed teaching you about all the different types of liquor and what effects certain techniques may have if applied to the distilling process. ‘This one?’ He holds up a bottle of Scotch after kneeling down to grab it. It was one of your favourites and he had recently bought you a new one while in Scotland. Nodding, ‘You know me too well dear.’
The two of you sit down in your home library, where you had also been sitting previously. It was your favourite place to be in, as it reminded you of your grandparent’s mansion in Italy, which you had often visited while growing up. You have always been quite the reader, so their library provided many of the books you read as a child. ‘Excuse the mess, I’ve been reading and writing all day.’ You apologise for the clutter in your desk and the many books which lay folded open next to your reading chair, annotations sprawling across their pages. ‘Don’t worry my dear,’ he smiles as he sits down across from you, ‘we both know that this is a normal part of your creative process.’ Once you’ve set down your glasses onto the table that’s standing between the two of you, he fills them with the liquor of his choice. ‘So please, don’t apologise.’ After all this time, you still felt flustered at times. He was always so well-put-together, with his exterior almost always being perfect. It was the exact opposite of how you felt at times, yet he encouraged and supported you, telling you many times that one can never be perfect and that you should be comfortable in whatever clothes you decide to wear. ‘To us.’ He states, clinking his glass to yours. ‘To us.’ You reply before tasting the brown liquid. It was as delicious as you’d remembered it to be.
‘I see you’ve picked up Austen? Is it to your liking?’ After thinking for a moment you reply, ‘I’m enjoying it quite a bit, though I am still uncertain what to think of Darcy.’ ‘Ah yes, Mr. Darcy is quite a complicated man. I suppose depending on the type of relationship one holds with him the experience can be quite different.’ He muses.
The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, reading, and drinking scotch. Only at three in the morning did you realise how much time had passed. Because of this, Harry decided to stay the night at your place. Luckily he always had some spare clothes and his own toiletries at your place. Once he’s gotten changed into his pyjamas, he joins you in the bathroom as you are brushing your teeth. Reaching over your shoulder, he grabs his own toothbrush and starts doing the same. His hair is slightly messy, with some of its waves cascading down his forehead rather than them being pushed back. He had also taken off his glasses, which made him appear slightly younger and less serious, at least to an extent.
‘Enjoying the view?’ Harry jokes as he catches you staring at him through the mirror. ‘Why yes of course,’ you turn to face him, ‘mister Hart.’ He smiles down at you. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself my love.’ Leaning in, he tenderly kisses you, slowly becoming more passionate when you put your hands into his hair, pulling him closer. Pulling away, he puts his forehead to yours. ‘We should take this to the bedroom.’
The next morning you wake up relatively late, around eleven o’clock. Harry lay there with his arm around you, his pyjama shirt still open. Soft snores fill your ear, it was quite cute to see him sleeping so peacefully. He isn’t like this often, and it is quite the exception that you are awake before him, so you decide to enjoy the moment.
After a few minutes, you supposed that it’d be best to brew some tea before Harry woke up. So very carefully, you climbed out of his grip and silently walked into the kitchen. Putting the kettle on the stove, you start looking at the different teas you have. ‘English breakfast… Chamomile… Mint…’ Pondering and mumbling, you eventually choose a black tea and put in some fresh lemon slices. As the kettle boils, you are putting some yoghurt, granola, and fresh berries into two bowls. Two arms suddenly wrap themselves around your waist. ‘Morning love.’ Harry’s deep voice greets you before he leans down to kiss you on your cheek. ‘Morning dear.’ You turn and meet his lips.
‘Want to go for a run later?’ You suggest as you put your breakfast and cups of tea onto the dinner table. He shakes his head before taking a sip of his tea. ‘I was rather hoping we could go to a museum, I was thinking of Tate Britain?’ You smile, ‘That sounds lovely.’ ‘We can go out for dinner after,’ a familiar smirk creeps onto his face, ‘I may or may not have pulled some strings and gotten a table at Nobu.’ He was definitely planning something, so you decide to agree without prying much more.
It became much more apparent that he was planning something after he had picked out an outfit for you, which very much complimented what he would be wearing. While it was somewhat casual for Harry’s standards, many would believe it to still be quite formal. Black slacks, a perfectly ironed white shirt, a light-grey knitted jumper, and of course, oxfords, not brogues. As it was still somewhat frigid, especially in the evening, he decided to wear a black overcoat.
After a short walk to Tate Britain, the two of you strolled around the museum for hours, admiring the many pieces of art which were being displayed. He would make comments on the techniques which were used to paint certain well-known pieces, his knowledge ranging from historic to modern art. Offering his arm, he eventually leads you to John Everett Millais’ painting Ophelia. It is a beautifully detailed painting, displaying the character as it is described in Shakespeare’s play, Hamlet. The two of you had originally found a connection through your love of literature, Shakespeare being one of the first authors which came up in your initial conversations. ‘It is quite beautiful, is it not?’ He whispers in your ear. ‘It is,’ you slowly nod, ‘must’ve been quite the undertaking to add all the details which were mentioned in the Scottish play.’ ‘That, I agree with dearest.’ He chuckles.
After walking through the remaining parts of the museum, it is already quite late, so you decide to take a cab to the restaurant Harry had reserved a table at. After ordering a bottle of wine and your food, the two of you enjoy quite a relaxed conversation about his business trip and what you had been up to. The dinner itself was phenomenal, the wine complimenting it, bringing out its flavours and umami. You decided to share dessert before walking back to his place, as it was closer. As you pass through Hyde park, he suddenly halts and points at the stars, which are remarkably visible. Quietly, he describes to you which stars form the different star signs, Orion, Sirius, and more.
A couple of minutes pass in silence before you feel him shift next to you. When you turn to face him, he is kneeling. ‘My love,’ he starts, ‘these past three years have been the happiest of my life.’ Pulling out a small box and opening it, he reveals a beautiful ring. ‘Will you do me the honour of spending the rest of your life with me?’ Words escape you. While you had expected him to surprise you in some way, this was outside of the scope you’d expected. Slowly, you nod, some tears escaping your eyes. ‘Yes, Harry. I do.’ ‘My love,’ He stands up, cups your face in both your hands and kisses you passionately, before putting the ring on your finger, ‘please don’t cry.’ As you look in his eyes, he himself seems moved, but something else in his eyes is unreadable to you.
The rest of that night was a bit of a blur. Harry told you that he’d gone to your father and asked for your hand in marriage not too long before his latest business trip, who in turn, had agreed. He admitted that he’d been looking at rings for quite a while before that, however, because he is the gentleman he is, he thought it necessary for him to follow tradition. After a couple of weeks, the two of you decide to start living together full-time at Harry’s place, as it’d be easier to see one another on an almost daily basis that way.
Two months after your engagement to Harry, your parents come over for dinner, as it had been a while since you had last seen them. Your mother is over the moon about the engagement and has insisted that you and Harry should marry in Italy, where you had spent most of your summers as a child. If it were up to her, the wedding would already be taking place this very summer, but because of the perfectionist your fiance is, you have decided to plan for spring of the following year. ‘So Harry, how has your work been lately?’ Your father enquires before taking a sip of his red wine. ‘It’s been busy, but I’m happy to have my lovely fiance to support me.’ Harry says as he squeezes your thigh and smiles at you. Your father doesn’t seem too convinced, however, and lets out a snort. ‘I’m sure you have been busy,’ he slowly leans forward and whispers, ‘busy blowing up my men and warehouses, perhaps?’ After sliding a few pictures across the table, he leans back again. It was quite clear that it was Harry, the security cameras your father had installed recently in his warehouses after finding multiple men dead and the building in shambles, had captured a video of him. The second picture was Harry holding a gun and clearly shooting one of your father’s men, Antinio. You had rather liked Antonio growing up and had felt awful after his death. You turn to him after staring at the picture for what felt like an eternity.
‘What’s the meaning of this Harry?’
He swallows. ‘It is none of your concern, love.’ You stand up. ‘Yes it is,’ your voice wavering slightly, ‘Harry Hart, you are going to explain to me what you were doing shooting up my father’s people and business.’ ‘Please sit back down, dear.’ He doesn’t dare look at you. ‘Harry.’ You say sternly and he finally looks at you, the guilt in his eyes quite clear. ‘Please, I can’t, you kno-.’ He almost begs you, but it’s interrupted by the sound of a gun being loaded. You turn and look at your father pointing it at your fiance. ‘I expect you to be honest now Harry, or should I say agent Galahad?’ Harry sits deadly still, all the emotion he had shown you completely wiped off his face. Slowly, he stands up, his hands slightly up and clearly visible for your father to see. ‘You have flown too close to the sun agent; and you’re going to pay for deceiving my child.’ Your father’s voice rising to an almost screaming level. ‘Father please! Don’t hurt him!’ You scream back. ‘Can’t you see that he has used you?! The only reason he ever got together with you is to get to me! Isn’t that right?!’ You turn to Harry. ‘Tell me it isn’t true Harry.’ He doesn’t answer. ‘TELL ME!’ Tears stream down your face as he looks at you without a hit of emotion. ‘We can discuss this later, dear.’ He states before turning back to your father, whose gun was clearly shaking as a result of his anger. ‘No, you’re going to be honest, Hart, if that’s even your name.’ He motions Harry to walk around the table and stand in opposite of him, your mother shifting to stand next to your father.
Your fiance didn’t seem to be phased by the situation in the slightest while your father looks like he is about to pull the trigger. Before he can, though, Harry suddenly and swiftly kicks the gun out of his hands, with it flying across the room. Pulling out his own gun, he doesn’t hesitate to shoot your father through the head. ‘DAD! NO!!’ Before you are able to move, he does the same to your mother, who had been relatively quiet throughout the argument. ‘Mo-mo-MOM?!’ You run and fall to the ground, trying to do anything to help them. Blood covers your hands and feet as tears continue to stream down your face. ‘Ha-.’ Swallowing, you try again. ‘Ha-Harry, wh-why…’ Your hands are shaking violently as you search for anything to grab onto. ‘Wa-was it- was it all fake?’ Grabbing your father’s gun you point it at him. He doesn’t look at you. ‘HARRY, LOOK AT ME!’ He turns, taking off his glasses and putting them onto the dinner table, the once white tablecloth now splattered with blood; tainted. Crouching down, he grabs your face and kisses you before pulling you into a hug, the gun you’re holding hitting his chest. ‘You may shoot now, my love.’ Is all he whispers into your ear.
~~~~~~
Part 2
#harry hart x reader#kingsman x reader#kingsman reader insert#harry hart imagine#harry hart reader insert#harry hart#fanfiction#fanfic#writing#angst#like a lot of it#established relationship#manipulation#open ending#ao3 writer#kingsman imagine#kingsman#small blog
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Lily Evans never quite feels like a lily.
[Petunia&Lily growing up - Microfic/fic excerpt - 362 words]
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Lily Evans never quite feels like a lily.
Lilies are the flowers that guests sometimes bring to her mother’s dinner parties, stiff stems already cut and pre-arranged in the crinkly wrapper. Her mother slots them into a vase in the middle of their dining table and they linger for a week or two, their white petals never getting to unfurl in the sun or to sway in the wind.
Lily broke that vase once, while trying to make Tuney play the new version of catch that the Blythe boys had taught her. The lilies spilled all over the dining table, the water that soaked into the tablecloth smelling a little like a creek in high summer. Tuney scolded her right away for being careless. Later, their mother got back from the shops and scolded Tuney for the mess.
By the end of the week there is a new vase on the dining table, and by the end of the month it is again filled with lilies, pale and elegant and still like a wax sculpture.
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Petunia Evans never quite feels like a petunia.
Petunias are the flowers that tumble down the windowsills of half the neighbourhood, their streaked and striped and spotted trumpets a confetti of every colour available in the newest gardening catalogues. In spring, she helps her mother carry trays of them from the market, little bundles of leaves that seem to know nothing of the tireless display that would soon be expected of them.
It was a thrill guessing which of the plug plants would produce the most outrageous colours, until Mrs Blythe mentioned that she finds petunias quite naff. Petunia wasn’t sure then what that meant, but next spring her mother comes back from the market with fuchsias and begonias instead. Petunia had never wanted to vie for the windowsill spot but now she retreats further, to the back bench in school and to the quiet obedience at the dinner table.
She tries to warn Lily, Lily who is still loud and bright and who plays with boys in the creek, but Lily never listens to her. And, as years pass by, Mrs Blythe never mentions that lilies are naff at all.
#this is the opening of that Lily & Petunia shortfic I want to finish someday#the Evans family is so interesting to have perfectly themed names for their children#not unlike a certain other hp family known for messed up sibling relationships#just saying#also I have many Thoughts about the role class dynamics played a role in Petunia's life and worldview#esp as the Dursleys are written like a somewhat resentful Fuck You to a particular type of a British midle class family#harry potter#marauders#marauders era#lily evans#lily potter#lily evans potter#petunia evans#petunia dursley#marauders microfic#harry potter microfic#marauders hc#marauders headcanon#nogenrealldrama fics
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#Ew#The shirt Harry is wearing is from a private golf course in California co-owned by- wait for it. You will never guess.#Yeah the motherfucking azo*fs#So fucking gross man. I just...#I'm so disgusted#I don't even...#Like my relationship with Harry has changed a lot over the past few months#I enjoy seeing the bits of him that are sweet but like... The people he surrounds himself with?#Like what in the world#I know he's a people pleaser and a creature of habit to a fault but man... Mannnnn.............#Don't even bother with anons. I won't reply anything about this topic. If you want to rant with me my DMs are open.
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I know you said it gives you ick.. please bear with me..regarding the post about open relationship.. I always think about it, how does it work, I mean they are away from each for better part of the year even if they're in relationship(hope they are).. Louis does not let on much but harry oh god harry made it very clear it's his most favourite thing to do( when he said performing on stage is the second favourite thing).. so do you think that he'll not look for somewhere else??? I mean I don't get the logistics of it.. and feel we idolize them way too much and they think they are in monogamous relationship since 16.. when harry sang 'woke up the girl who looked just like you, I almost said your name' like what, people think they were having Tea party??
But also what contradicts my thoughts is that.. HL are extremely jealous people.. they don't show on their faces anymore but louis was pissed because harry touched liam's ear..LIAM. so it makes me wonder how a person like him would agree for an open relationship just to be with that person and not say bye bye to the relationship and going through all the trouble.. we see many people call it quits because of long distance.. 🙃
https://www.tumblr.com/whoreforlarrystuff/722390198063906816/please-dont-think-this-is-aimed-at-you-its-the?source=share
Hi Love!
So I do think that we have lots of proof that they don’t go long without seeing each other- I know that we as a fandom like to joke about the 2 week rule for Harry and Louis- but often times, their schedules line up in a way that it kinda makes sense?
I think that people assume that just because someone enjoys sex, means they have to be having it with other people? Plenty of people are in long distance relationships and enjoy sex, and they don’t sleep with other people. We’re in a technology age- we have phone sex, video sex, all kinda of sex toys that allow for long distance sex etc. personally, I don’t think they’re in an open relationship, in part because of how jealous we saw them be during the 1D days.
Of course, that doesn’t mean that things haven’t changed since then- but I do think that they’re still in a monogamous relationship. The way that H talks about relationships isn’t someone who isn’t in a committed relationship with one person for a very long time.
I think H and Lou have been through so much as a couple, that they know they can do it- and the things that H says lately show someone who’s done the work to remain committed in his relationship, someone who’s been to therapy & had struggles, but that they’ve emerged on the other side stronger together.
These two don’t write the songs they do, for us to question the validity & strength of their relationship.
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Insatiable You*
Summary: The second part to Infinite You*
The one where Harry wants to know more about these smutty books you read. And maybe have a bit of fun, too.
Word Count: 5.8k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, spitting, Sir Kink
“Begin.”
“Harry—”
“Begin,” he repeats. Stern. Final. “I’m not gonna ask you again, Kitten. This is what we agreed on, yeah? Said you would. So go.”
Your hands shake as you hold the book against your chest. You nod quickly, eager to please him, and you feel relieved when he smiles.
You open the novel and flip to the bookmarked page. You can feel him watching you from his place between your legs and you attempt to cover your face with the pages before he’s quickly—and easily—pushing the book back down.
He gives you a certain look that makes you swallow, and you nod again.
“Sorry,” you whisper.
“S’okay,” he says. He’s trying not to smile. “But I wanna see you. You know that.”
You swallow for a second time and flick your attention back to the page. “So…just…anywhere?”
He hums. “Anywhere.”
You straighten up and clear your throat. “Damien was quiet as he entered Elizabeth’s bedroom. He could see her laid out in wait. Her familiar silhouette illuminated in the gentle light of the moon. He’d know her anywhere.”
You glance at Harry. He’s smirking. Intrigued. And you feel your cheeks warm as you look back to the story. Even if it’s not inherently smutty yet, you know it’s coming.
“He walked closer, careful not to disturb her peace as he made his way into her space. Pulling the soft blanket away from her hips to reveal the silk nightgown underneath.” You take a deep breath. You feel Harry squeeze your ankle. “He…he could see her glistening cunt beneath the sheer fabric. She’d been waiting for him. Working herself up in anticipation for his return. So it would be easier for him to take her once he arrived.”
As you read, you feel Harry’s fingers travel up the length of your leg and toward the large shirt resting around your hips. He pulls it back to reveal your glistening pussy. Equally as worked up as the one in the story.
You hesitate, embarrassed and enamored, before he nods once to reassure you. He’s far too amused to let you stop now. After all, this was your deal. You would read, he would reenact.
Your insides twist as you continue. “She stirred the moment his cold fingertips made contact with her warm skin. Still, he was gentle. He stroked and he pulled and he situated her where he wanted her. She was good. Quiet. Allowing herself to be moved without so much as a whimper.”
In turn, Harry’s large hands tighten around your hips. Tugging you away from the headboard and closer to his face. You gasp and clutch the book as though it’ll save you, but nothing can save you now.
“Go,” he murmurs and it’s anxious. He knows what’s coming and he knows he can’t begin until Damien does.
You continue. “Her body greeted him the way it always did. It was warm to the touch and seemed to call to him like a siren. Luring him closer until he had no choice but to take a taste.”
Harry scoots closer. Ready.
“His tongue flattened against her and he savored her need until he was short of breath. Licking and nipping at her until she awoke and cried out his name—”
However, you lose the rest the moment Harry’s tongue drags up your cunt and settles against your clit. And you decide that this is much better than reading alone because this is infinitely more vivid than the image in your head. Better than Damien, better than your own hand, better than a toy.
And Harry is beautiful. With his sharp, strong jaw that somehow looks sharper with the way he mouths at you. With his curls that are falling against his forehead and with the muscles that flex whenever he tightens his hold on your legs.
You drop the book onto your stomach and whimper, “Harry—”
He stops. Looks up.
“Sir,” you correct quickly. “Sir, please—”
“Keep reading,” he nearly grunts. He juts his chin toward the novel. “Go.”
Your fingers are trembling as you lift the book back up. He expects too much of you when his tongue is lapping at your body the way it is. “He did not waver. She was sensitive from whatever ministrations she had practiced before he arrived, but he carried on. He pulled…he pulled her clit between his teeth and gave her something to cry about.”
Harry follows suit and your eyes roll back. He’s perfect, considering he’s only done this once before. But he knows how to treat you, how to touch you, how to taste you. Better than anyone ever has. He’s insatiable and determined.
“He swallowed her down like a man dying of thirst,” you read through strained, shallow breaths. “She was his vixen. His wet, perfect little dream. Already pulling him closer by her warmth—shit—”
He smacks your thigh. Wrong. You keep reading.
“She pulled his hair and brought him closer. She lived within his lungs. He didn’t want the air she hadn’t touched. He wanted every drop that was wasted on the sheets below. The drops that belonged to him. Because her taste belonged to him. Always.”
Harry’s fingers curl around the backs of your thighs before he lifts them up. Creating more room and space for him to work. And he does. He takes and he groans and he licks a stripe from your ass to your clit. More intimate than you were expecting and you gasp before the book drops.
“No,” he seethes against your pussy. He licks harder, sucks faster. “Keep going.”
“Harry—”
“Go.”
You can hardly see the words through the haze in your eye. They’re melting off the page, blurring together. Still, you try. You obey. “Damien teased her with his finger. He knew she could take him, but he needed to hear her beg.”
In turn, the tip of Harry’s finger begins to smooth through the wet folds beneath his tongue. The sensation is overwhelming and you feel yourself clench at the very thought of him sliding inside. The anticipation almost dreadful.
But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes find yours. “Beg me.”
Your breath catches. “Harry—”
He slaps your clit. Hard. “Beg me,” he repeats. “Fucking beg me, baby. Beg me to touch you. Beg me to stretch you. Beg me to fuck this cute little hole until you’re coming all down my hand.”
You clutch the paperback novel so hard, you feel it dent. “Harry—”
“Sir,” he corrects sharply. There’s something virile in his eye. A step past insatiable. Depraved. Like a wild animal with his prey.
And you aren’t afraid. You aren’t embarrassed or ashamed. Because you understand this hunger. It's the same hunger you felt after days of not being with him. Of knowing he was with Rebecca while you were alone with your pillow. Knowing he fell asleep in her arms instead of yours.
It's not just some itch you need scratched. It's him. His technique, his aurora, his presence. Mind, body, soul. Him. Nobody else will ever do it for you the way he can. Not even Damien.
“Beg me,” he repeats from below, ravenous attention locked on you. “Beg me, Kitten…and I’ll give it to you.”
You hold the book in one hand and his curls in the other. “Please,” you exhale. It’s airy and faint, but filled with a kind of desperation you know he understands. “Please, Sir. Please touch me. Please…it hurts.”
He hums and swipes his tongue over your clit. Teasingly. Temptingly. He thinks. “Does it?”
You nod quickly. “Anytime I’m not with you, it hurts. Please…nobody else can fix it.”
There’s a soft smile on his glistening lips. One you almost don’t catch through the tears in your lashes. “Nobody, hm?”
You shake your head.
“Have you been trying to find somebody else, Kitten?” He nips at you again. “Have you been going around, trying to give away what’s mine?”
Your eyes widen and your skin warms. You hate how much you love the possessive undertone. Even if he doesn’t mean it. “Never.”
He looks back up. “Do you promise?”
You swallow. You do promise, even though the truth is…you aren’t his. And you don’t imagine you ever will be. Still, you whisper, “I promise.”
And you mean it. More than anything.
Satisfied, the tip of his finger begins to push you open. Stretching the warm, quivering walls that are anxious to draw him in, effortlessly easing the ache in your stomach.
You let out a relieved sigh that makes him smirk and you adore his smugness. More than you should.
“Keep reading,” he repeats yet again while thrusting his finger in and out at a deviously slow pace.
The book shakes as it’s brought back up. “She…she pulled his hair and whispered his name. And he’d never heard something so beautiful. Her mouth was good for many things, but moaning his name was perhaps Damien’s favorite.”
Harry kisses everywhere he can. Your cunt, your thighs, your hip. Pulling at the skin and sucking it until it’s bright red and swollen before soothing it gently with his tongue.
“She was trembling beneath him,” you read. “She was sensitive and ready to give him her second orgasm. And he was ready to take it—”
“And are you ready, baby?” Harry says to you now. His grin is mischievous as he awaits your response. Because he knows you are. Knows that you were a good girl, that you did your homework and obeyed his instruction. That you touched yourself before he arrived, exactly like Elizabeth had.
You let out an unsteady breath and nod once. “Yes.”
“Good. Keep going."
You go back to your novel. “When she came, she was loud. Her naked body gleamed beneath her nightgown, covered in those dewy beads of sweat that made his mouth water. He wanted to run his tongue up and down every inch of her. To taste her, fully. To have her inside of him the way he was desperate to be inside her.”
Harry suddenly crawls up your body and begins to drag his tongue along your shaky stomach. A trail of saliva follows in the wake of his mouth and you can’t help but whimper as you watch him move toward your chest.
“Read,” he murmurs against your left tit, leaving you no choice but to oblige.
“When the light found her eyes, he saw what she really wanted,” you continue. “She pulled on him again and pleaded, ‘Damien, please. I can’t wait.’ So, he took himself from her swollen cunt and pressed his mouth to hers. He gave her a taste of herself and she swallowed it all, gladly—”
And before you can even ready yourself, Harry is taking your lips with his and sucking. Biting. Having. Feeding that hunger until you melt beneath him. Giving you the same taste Damien gave Elizabeth.
His tongue feels good against yours and the sensation is unfathomable. But not because of you...because of him.
He knows you can’t read very well like this, but he doesn’t mind. He draws back and holds your jaw in his palm until you open your mouth in acceptance. And then…he spits. Right down your throat, as though every drop belongs to you.
And you swallow it all. Gladly.
His kisses eventually move back down before he instructs you to finish the scene. And you struggle your way through it, despite how anxious you are to reach the end. “Her pussy welcomed him in and it felt like coming home. He held her throat in his hand and whispered, ‘Tell me, my love. Tell me what you did while I was away. Tell me exactly how you touched yourself as you waited.’”
You feel Harry nudge his nose underneath your chin before he says, “Go on, baby. Tell me.”
You close your eyes and allow the memory to find you. “I thought of you,” you tell him softly. Quietly. You’re embarrassed again and you don’t know why. “Thought of how you knew what I was doing while I did it.”
You feel him smile against your throat.
“Thought about what you told me to do,” you continue. “How…how you told me to take good care of your pussy until you got here.”
He hums and it seems to vibrate through the fingers still pumping inside your cunt. “And you did, didn’t you?”
You nod wordlessly.
“Tell me how.”
Another mesmerized inhale. “I was here,” you whisper. The noise he makes this time is greedier. “I was here and I…I remembered how you looked last time. I thought of you, and I…I tried to do what you would do.”
He grins a bit wider and it makes your chest swell. “Is that right, Kitten?”
“Mhm.” You clutch the book to keep from writhing. “And I moaned your name when I came. Knew I couldn’t come for anybody else. Didn’t want to.”
He nuzzles his face in your shoulder and groans. “God, you’re gonna fucking kill me, baby. You know that? My ego’s already too big.”
“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly. “But it should be. You’re so good, Harry. Couldn’t wait to see you. Think I came just picturing you walking through my door.”
He leans back now and your heart drops. Perhaps that was a bit too honest. Too intimate. Especially considering that he’s still not yours to have.
He studies you a moment and you wait. Timidly. Preparing yourself for the disappointment that might follow his reply.
Then, he dips down, and nuzzles his nose against yours. “You’re too good to me,” he exhales. It sounds heavy. Scared. Sweet. “I don’t deserve you, Kitten. I hope you know that.”
You drop the book and take hold of the curls against the back of his neck. You squeeze them tight in your fist as you shake your head. You hate the resolve in his voice. “That’s not true. I’m just…here. I’m just me. You’re the one going out of your way to help me.”
Another smile but it’s softer. Sadder. “I think you’re helping me more than I’m helping you.”
You lift up and kiss him. “We’re helping each other,” you decide. “For as long as we can.”
When he kisses you back, you feel limitless. “Good.” He smacks his other hand against the outside of your leg. “Now, finish the chapter. We’re just getting to the good bit.”
You nearly whine but you do obey. Flipping through the pages until you find where you last left off. “Elizabeth looked at him, unabashedly. ‘What would you have liked me to do?’ she asked. Her voice was a silky purr. ‘How would you have liked me to touch myself without you? Would you have liked me to be soft and tender? Or would you have liked me to be just as hard and relentless as you?’”
Harry listens carefully, kissing a trail along down your chest while his fingers begin to work you closer. He knows you’re only moments away. Somehow, he always knows.
“‘Would you have preferred that I soak our sheets? Would you have liked to see the aftermath of my lust for you?’ She dragged her nails down his back. ‘Or do you like to know that I cannot touch myself the way you touch me? That my body does not respond to my hand the way it does yours?’”
Suddenly, he adds a third finger and your mouth instantly drops open. It starts to unravel before you can stop it and when he thrusts to the knuckle, you see those stars again. The same stars that brought him to you.
“Harry,” you gasp. You clutch his hair and his tongue dives forward. “Shit, Harry, wait—”
You come but he doesn’t stop. Damien might have, but Harry is most certainly not Damien. He flicks and sucks and pumps until you begin to cry. Until your legs are shaking on either side of his head and you’ve nearly yanked the curls from his skull.
Still, he pushes you toward a second—or rather, a third. And it’s far too quick for your liking.
“Har…shit, Harry, please—” You squirm and you fight against the almost painful pleasure radiating between your legs. “Hurts…hurts, Harry, please—”
“Don’t care,” you vaguely hear him murmur before he’s nipping at your clit again. “Again.”
Your cheeks are soaked and your fingers move from his curls to the bed beneath. You clutch the sheets and arch from the mattress, but he shoves you back down.
“Again,” he says. He slaps your pussy and you mewl. “You’ve done it before. Know you can do it again. Be good for me, come on. Be fucking good.”
And it’s almost sinister but it works. You come for a third time and your body feels wrecked. Ruined. Spent. You lose yourself in the sensation and by the time you find yourself again, he’s pulling his cock out and lining himself up.
“Read,” he demands next. He nods at the book. He’s determined to see this through. “Go. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Told me you used to fuck yourself to these books, so I wanna fuck you to them, too. Wanna show you how much better the real thing is. So fucking read it, baby.”
You mindlessly reach for the novel beside you and drag it back open. You know he’s right and you plan to rush through the rest of the chapter so you can throw the book away and never open it again.
“When he pushes in, his breath becomes hers,” you whisper. “Her cunt accepts his cock and molds to it. And he knows, undoubtedly, that her pussy was made for him. That she was sewn together in the heavens and left on his lap for such a purpose. Because no one would ever be able to please her the way Damien could. No other man could even try. She was made for him. To be loved by him. To be fucked by him. To live and die for him. They were one.”
Harry waits for you to finish the thought before he finally pushes forward, the tip of his large head disappearing between your folds.
He braces himself against your hips and your lungs nearly give out. And he watches. He watches every fucking second of the way his cock stretches you open. Curses when he sees the way you accept him. Grits his teeth and fists your skin until he’s completely bottomed out.
And then…he kisses you.
Long and slow and it almost feels grateful. Like he’s thanking you for letting him inside and you sigh against his mouth.
Then, the book is suddenly snatched from your hand and chucked across the room before he kisses you harder. He growls, “Enough. You don’t come for him anymore. You fucking come for me. Is that understood?”
You whine his name but it’s not enough.
“Is that fucking understood?” he repeats louder. “You are not to pick up that goddamn book as long as you’re mine, do you hear me? You will not touch yourself to another man’s words or soak these fucking sheets for anybody else but me.”
And even if Harry isn’t a possessive man by nature, you thrive off the instruction. The threat—the demand. You imagine he doesn’t truly mean it, nor would he be that cross with you if you were to do it again.
But it fits the scene and you want to be perfect for him. “I understand,” you whimper. You bite your lip but he bites it harder. “Though, technically…it was written by a woman.”
You like to think he’d laugh if it were any other time. Today, however, he merely yanks himself out of your pussy and flips you around.
You’re on your stomach and spread before you can catch your breath. And you feel him push back in without a moment’s hesitation while his hand comes down in a firm smack to your ass.
You cry out his name and nuzzle your cheek against the bed. You miss being able to see him, but you happen to adore this side of him, too.
“Did I fucking ask?” he hisses before spanking you again. You feel your skin grow hot where his hand lands and somehow, it brings you even closer to release. “Huh? I don’t fucking care who wrote it. It is no longer yours to read. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” you say again. “I do, Sir. I promise.”
He kneads the tender flesh in his palm before mumbling, “Good girl. Now, are you gonna take my cock, Kitten? You gonna let me show you how a real man does it?”
Thankfully, your fervent nod is answer enough and with that, he begins a harsh, unforgiving pace that turns your insides to jello.
The bed shakes and your body shakes and this is fucking. The kind you’ve only ever seen in porn and you are so incredibly present in this moment with him. You drink in every detail, the way he holds your body, the way he fucks into your pussy, the way it sounds when he slips.
His hips feel good against your ass and his soft grunts are euphoric. A few rendezvous aren’t enough, you realize. You thought you were addicted before but now…
You don’t think it’s fair that he doesn’t have to share you, but you have to share him. And you can’t hide the pout that forms on your lips at the very thought of him leaving you—leaving your warmth—to go find it with someone else.
And you know he’s not like that. You know he’s not actively with anybody else but you…and occasionally Rebecca. Still, the chance is there. The offer is his for the taking, should he decide to take it.
When you go quiet, he weaves his fingers through your hair. “Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s still gruff the way he speaks but laced with tender concern. The kind you’re used to from him.
You replace the pout with a small smile. “Nothing, Sir. I promise.”
“Would you like to take a break? Or change colors?”
You shake your head. “No. I promise.”
He slows his thrusts. “Are you thinking again?” he asks gently. “Did I lose you to those ugly thoughts?”
You could almost cry from the way he notices. The way he cares. Still, you force a brave face. “No, sorry. Just feels really good.”
He’s unconvinced. “Kitten—”
“Please don’t stop, Sir,” you whimper. You use the quiver in your voice to persuade him. To keep him in this moment with you instead of trying to yank you out. “Please, I’m…I’m so close. Just wanna come with you.”
You hear him sigh and the firm grip on your hip loosens. “All right,” he concedes, yet…he pulls out.
You nearly wither.
However, before you can, he’s rolling you over onto your back. “I wanna try something else with you this time,” he says. “Wanna see if you’d ride me.”
You feel your eyes grow larger while your head nods all on its accord.
And he grins when he sees how mesmerized you are, grabbing your hand to help you up as you both get situated near the headboard. An easier place to start.
He pulls you over his thighs before he’s slipping his hands beneath your large shirt to pull it over your head. And once he has full access to your chest, he takes advantage. Kissing and licking your tits while his palm flattens against your spine to keep you on his tongue.
Then, you sit.
You start slow, and he uses his other hand to guide your hips at a pace he prefers. A pace he knows will be easier on you. After all, you’ve never taken him like this, and he’d like you to enjoy every fucking inch of the way down.
You gasp and cling to his shoulders as you go. This stretch is just as tantalizing, yet strangely more pleasurable. He feels deeper than he ever has and you glance down at where your bodies meet as though you’ll be able to see just where he is.
He smiles and takes your hand. “Right here,” he murmurs, as though anticipating your wonder. He presses your palm flat against your stomach before nudging himself up into you and—
The gasp melts into a moan, and he thrusts up once more but keeps your hand taut to your tummy. To the subtle bulge you can feel moving beneath.
“Sh…shit,” you manage, nails scratching at your skin. “I’m…fuck, Harry, I—”
“I know,” he says gently. He’s watching you again. Curious to your reaction and seemingly enthralled by your response. Happy. Content. “I know, baby. S’good, yeah?”
You surge forward and kiss him. Taking your hand away only so you can drag it down his chest and claw at his heart as though desperate to reach inside and take hold. To keep it. Forever.
You can feel it thumping against his ribcage. Going about as fast as you imagine yours is and there’s something so incredibly wonderful about knowing he’s equally as possessed as you are.
He seems to realize he’s the first man to do something so intimate with you and he likes this idea. Likes that he will always be your first memory, forever ingrained in your past. He holds you harder and kisses you deeper and begins to move you faster over his cock.
You shift, and grind, and ride him until you’re both a mess of moans and incoherent praises. He helps lift you up and guide you back down, setting a strangely addictive pace of bouncing on his cock until you’re nearing a fourth. But you won’t succumb until he does.
Your body is spent, every limb tired and aching for relief. It almost hurts, this pleasure, but it’s oddly sweet. Everything always is with him.
“Doing so good,” you hear him say, and you peel your eyes open to watch the way he watches you. His face is magnetic, every inch of him just as erotic as the sex itself. Even the way he swallows and clenches his jaw in pure bliss. “So fucking good, Kitten, you gonna give me another?”
You mewl pitifully and attempt to nod but it’s useless. The pressure is building and the ache is distracting and you’re close but somehow not nearly close enough.
Yet your tears and meek reaction only entertain him further. He grins wickedly as he rolls you faster, taking your nipple in his mouth before looking up. “What’s the matter, baby, hm? S’it hurt?”
You nod again while your hands cement themselves to his shoulders for balance.
However, he merely hums while his fingers suddenly lift toward his lips and disappear beside his tongue. And he sucks. Loudly. Lewdly. Until they’re soaked and dripping.
And then…he drops them to your clit.
The sound you make is miserable and pathetic. It does hurt but in the best way and you bury your face in his neck as though to hide from the pleasure.
You feel him nuzzle his cheek against your head. “Shh,” he coos, and rubs his other hand up and down your spine soothingly. “You’re okay. You’re gonna take it, aren’t you? Gonna give me another—”
“Harry,” you cry, gripping onto his curls as though your life depends on it.
“You’re okay,” he repeats firmly. “You’re fine. I know you can take me, so take me. Just like you took your little fingers before I got here. You come for me the way you came for him. Okay?”
It’s mean and cruel and so incredibly sadistic but with one little pinch…he tips you over.
It’s quick but powerful and you’re drop kicked back into your body just in time to feel him twitch before he’s slamming you down and hissing, “Can I?”
You nod and he fills you. Completely and utterly, until your insides feel even fuller and your mind has gone numb.
His head drops back against the headboard, lashes fluttering shut with relief while you watch. You watch all of it. The way he dribbles out of your pussy and down onto his thighs. The way his cock sits snugly inside of you. The way his skin glistens from the sweat and exertion.
But you can’t help the whine that slips out when you see those delicious pearlescent drops go to waste and you squirm when you realize how much you’re really losing.
You’ve never been one to care about keeping it inside. In fact, you’ve never really cared about it at all. But now…it feels like you’re losing him. You’re losing this experience by letting it drip down and disappear, and you nearly start to cry.
He takes hold of your cheek and gently sweeps his thumb across the soaked, warm skin of your face. “Baby,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”
You swallow thickly and attempt to relax. You don't imagine he'd understand. “Nothing, sorry.”
His head tilts but he’s still smiling. “Then why are you clenching me so hard? What’s wrong? Are you in pain, does it hurt?”
“No. No,” you assure him quickly. “No, I just…I don’t know. Feels like…a waste, I guess.”
He’s confused until you look down and the moment he realizes, he laughs again. “Oh, you sweet fucking girl—” He tugs you in for another kiss and now your body is numb, too. “God, I really don’t fucking deserve you.”
You whimper against his tongue and he sighs.
“I’ll give you more, don’t worry,” he says before kissing down your throat. “Next time. I promise. But right now, I wanna clean you up and make sure you’re all right.”
You’d likely protest if you had the strength, but instead, you allow him to care for you. He sets you down onto the bed as gently as he can before he’s rushing around your apartment collecting the things he needs.
He starts with a warm washcloth along your inner thighs to collect the sticky residue and add a bit of relief to your swollen cunt. And even though it’s sensitive and you try to squirm away, he soothingly talks you through it. Keeping you calm. Steady. Present.
Then, once he’s washed himself up as well, he asks if it would be all right to hold you. And it’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given.
So you stay in his arms for hours, your head on his chest, his lips in your hair. You talk about everything and nothing, just listening to the sound of his heart as he recalls past moments that made him happy. Like this one.
Then, your favorite part. He asks what you’d like to do next time.
“I don’t know,” you admit sheepishly. “I…I’m not sure what all I like.”
He thinks. “Well, we could do some research. Try a few things. You said you like things rougher, yeah? We could add some new dynamics. Degradation, harder spanking, punishments. Things like that.”
Your stomach flips. “You’re into punishment?”
He laughs and the sound is beautiful. “Yeah. Why, does that surprise you?”
“Honestly…yes and no.”
“We don’t have to go too deep if you don’t want,” he says. “We can keep it light, but the option is always there.”
You nod. “And…you like being rougher? You like…degradation and all that?”
“Yeah. Because I know my partner trusts me to take care of them even if I’m being harsh. And there’s something powerful in that, I guess. That their pain and their pleasure belongs to me.”
You feel yourself clench at the very thought before you’re scooting closer. “Well…that sounds good to me. I like being taken care of by you. Even if you’re mean.”
He laughs. “Was I mean, Kitten?”
“No. Just oddly possessive over that book.”
He hums before he looks toward the discarded novel on the other side of the room. “Yeah, well…fuck that book. I mean it.”
Now, it’s your turn to laugh. “Harry.”
“What? I do mean it.” He kisses your forehead. “You deserve better than some half-assed attempt at sex on a page. You deserve to be fucked and looked after. And Damien isn’t gonna do that for you.”
“No, but…I have other books.”
He snorts. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah. I just picked an easy one since I didn’t want you to get too jealous.”
“Is that right?”
“Yup. Although that clearly didn’t work very well.”
You feel him land a firm smack to your ass that makes you squeal before you settle again.
“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll pull you over my lap right now.”
You grin. “Maybe you should.”
And when he chuckles, you feel whole. “Next time. Deal?”
“Deal.”
The room falls silent again as you exist in his hold. Against his heart. In his life in a way you never imagined.
And then…you ruin it.
“Was she surprised you were coming over again?” you ask quietly, breath already catching in anticipation of his response. “Or was she…mad?”
Yet true to form, he’s calm. “No,” he says easily. “She was happy, honestly. Just surprised you didn’t mention it to her yourself.”
You grimace. Right. “I…yeah. Sorry, I…I think I got scared.”
You feel his cheek roll across your head before he’s scratching his nails up and down your back. “Why, Kitten?” he asks softly. “She’s not scary, I promise.”
“I know. Fuck, I know. I know, I…I don’t know.” You groan. “I think I…I just think I’m still not used to this. To this idea of…sharing? And I keep worrying that she’s gonna change her mind and…and it’ll be over. Just like that.”
He considers this for a beat before he’s kissing your crown again. “She’s not like that. I promise. She never would have agreed if she thought she’d change her mind.”
“…I know.”
“And even if she did, she doesn’t get to make that decision for us,” he tells you. “If we want to continue, that’s our choice. And nobody else’s.”
This makes you smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Another kiss. “But you know she doesn’t want this to upset you. She cares about you a lot, Kitten. She values your friendship more than anything and she’d hate to know she’s made you so anxious.”
And just like that, you feel dejected again. “I know…”
“I don’t want to come between you two,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “And if I am—”
“No,” you interject. “No, you’re not. But I don’t want to come between you two, either.”
“You’re not,” he echoes smugly. “And I think that’s why this works. We’re good at sharing. At least with each other. And I like it this way.”
The contentment in his voice makes your heart swell and you reach up to kiss him firmly in response.
But the truth is, you don’t think you are very good at sharing. At least not him.
Although, you suppose you’ll have to learn.
Because next time…you don’t plan to let him go.
Writing smut inside smut is no joke 😭
Next Part:
~ Insufferable You* (Pt. 3)
Previous Part:
~ Infinite You* (Pt. 1)
~ Full Infinite You Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs
#harry#harry styles#harry edward styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan#harry styles smut#harry styles request#harry styles concept#smut#concept#friend!harry#harry and kitten#open relationship!harry#soft dom!harry
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Learning Curve Hall-of-Famer right here.
Tuvok making Chell clean the transporter room with the equivalent of a toothbrush as, I assume, a punishment of some sort & Harry coming out of left field with a 'You missed a spot <3' just to kick him while he's down. Harry, the man's gonna be there LITERALLY all day. Absolute bastards these Starfleet types <- said with love
#learning curve#Tuvok confiscating the Bajoran earring is obviously bad but his entire method of training is also just so ... it's a Lot#He's such a drill sargent v_v It's moments like these that make me think he and Harry would well together in the mirrorverse#B'Elanna: ?? But he'll be at it for hours! / Kim: (knowing that's the point) : ) .....#B'Elanna: Well good luck! / Harry: You missed a spot : )#Tuvok: Ten laps around the ship in increased gravity. Ten more laps if you talk back to me. Twenty. Thirty. Forty.#Twenty six hours scrubbing the floor as punishment. No stopping for water. I expect you to improve daily or I will consider this a failure.#Also Tuvok: I just don't understand why they aren't responding well to my training....hmm.... / Neelix: ................ : ) Um.#People like to focus on Tuvok as a good mentor or father figure but I really think that's only to very select and specific people about#select & specific things - this rigidity and lack of compassion and inability to understand others and general#vibe of being uncaring is also part of his personality#Like what Neelix said: 'That's the problem - you have no feeling for me but you have feelings against me' <- That sort of vibe#<- And also the fact that he's very close with Janeway despite (or perhaps because of) this is another interest component of them#Janeway who at the start of the show stated explictly that she was comfortable with her distance as Captain (which hints that she's not#like say - Pike. Who wants to get to know his crew intimately)#Idk I just think it's interesting!#Janeway & Tuvok as colder than other Human/Vulcan pairs is something that intrigues me. Janeway being comfortable with distance from others#and heavily segmenting her personal vs private lives and Tuvok who is the most quintessential Vulcan also being the closest to her for the#longest time (They've been friends 20 years prior to the show's opening)#There's no component of their relationship which demands Tuvok be more Human which is something I /WISH/....we EXPLORED more....the#Janeway-Tuvok friendship....it's SO telling that other Main Vulcan-Human pairs are like the most delved into relationships on screen but#Tuvok & Janeway's relationship is paid lip service but never REALLY is any time devoted to it explicitly. I wonder why that IS.
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Concept design for Jayden Shiba as he appears in discussions me and my friend, @dani-luminae , have about the AU we have going on Dani's fic, Love From The Stars.
Hailing from a family of pirates, Jayden Shiba like a-lot of pirates when Auradon was formed, was banished to the Isle of The Lost alongside his wife, Alexandria, something both hated and longed to be freed from and go back to travelling the world again.
This hate and longing would lead to the pair meeting the imprisoned god, Hades, who recruited pirates like Jayden and Alexandria to help with a scheme to escape the Isle. It didn't work, of course. Plans like that never work on the Isle. But during all this, Alexandria would ultimately end up spending a night with Hades, something Jayden wasn't against, given the couples open relationship nature and therefore, list of lovers on both sides.
But while both were aware due to lack of any good protection supplies on the Isle, both are caught off guard still by Alexandria finding herself pregnant from her night with Hades, with Alexandria caught off guard the most. And despite Jayden, after the initial shock, being fine keeping the baby, Alexandria ultimately feared the baby and its potential too much.
And as a result of this, only a few hours after the baby was born, Alexandria would come to the decision to abandon the baby on Hades' doorstep, and while Jayden and her were iffy with each other for a bit after that, both still remained together as both still loved each other at the end of it all, but both after the baby were more careful with their lovers if they continued to have those.
But eventually during their time on the Isle, tragedy would strike when Alexandria became deathly ill and despite Jayden's best efforts to keep her alive, she would ultimately pass away, leaving Jayden bitter towards Auradon even when freed finally alongside everyone else on the Isle, unable to forget Alexandria's death and how it could have been prevented if they had the right medication on the Isle.
Choosing to not join a crew, Jayden would travel the world like normal, but in a more slow way, unable to find the adventure in it anymore without Alexandria.
One day though, Jayden finds himself being tracked down by that very same baby that had been abandoned with Hades, now a teenager going by the name of Reese, who in her search for answers on her mom, found Jayden...
#lfts au#jayden shiba (canon character)#concept look#(me typing this initally: 'its just a summary-' me midway: 'but i could sprinkle in a lil angst while at it-'#also yeah uh ultimately decided this jayden and alexandria were just very open relationship and both had lovers really#with uh jaydens potentially including captain hook himself#(cue harry with jayden being that meme: 'did you fuck my dad jayden? did you fuck my dad jayden?' if he dont already know lol)#also should note here; this does not effect reese being adopted by jim ultimately#jayden while hes happy to see reese again and such#is more fine acting like the chill uncle really#hes not really gonna cross parentry boundries with the people reese sees as parents already (and trust her that list is long)#as he just ultimately happy to find adventure again when jim invites him to the space pirates)
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not me listening to niall's live version of if you ever leave me/everybody wants to rule the world to help me fall asleep like its a damn lullaby
(also really helps that im imagining im snuggled up with niall and we're sleepily singing the song together)
#kinqzaddy#niall horan#im like almost positive he is the reason i will never be happy in a relationship#in my mind world he and i are in an open relationship where he and i basically are kind of platonic but not really bc we kiss and stuff#lmao im fucKING LAME YALL#also im like besties with harry in my mind world and louis is like just there being harry's cute boyfriend yknow#ok goodnight/morning bc its 2am
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do u ever wish u could go back to the first time u heard sott
#bc i’m stuck in that rn#i was in a really weird time of my life and very far removed from the fandom#but i was just. in awe#and so so so so proud of harry#like i legit cried so hard even tho i was walking down the street lmfao#listened to it on repeat nonstop for at least a week#i was like at the end of my first terrible relationship and honestly it opened up a floodgate#god. i’m still so proud of him#so much has happened since then it’s crazy#never ever could have predicted even half of it#but he really Did That#like yes bitch i can both write and sing amazing beautiful and heartbreaking songs lmao#the line welcome to the final show hits so hard now god damn#ANYWAY GUESS WHOS FEELING EMO AND WISTFUL TONIGHT LOL#rowyn rambles
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I love my friends I love my friends I love my friends. i don’t know them very well yet and i love them. we haven’t known each other long yet and i love them. i love them and it has not fixed any of my problems and i love them. the world is so beautiful with all of us in it.
#i’m tired and sappy#does this make sense?#rsbry’s jam#friendship#love#one friend let me sit with my head on their leg for two hours and another sat on the table to be closer to our conversation and another#will watch movies with us even if she doesn’t like the movie and another tells us the craziest shit about her highschool and another talks#for minutes at a time about the healthcare system and an out her tells people they have beautiful smiles and another let us prank them with#a harry styles poster and another said hi to us on her way back in from work and another showed up to hang out six minutes after i texted#and another invites us to watch him do lightsaber duels and another finds ways to be kind to everyone he meets and another is secretly#anxious to perform at open mic night. three of them talk in a british accent for fun and now i do it.#life is so wonderful sometimes#i get scared growing up. so much so fast#where i will live next year and if i’ll get a job and what i’ll study and how i’ll pay for it#and all my relationships with everyone in my life is changing every single one#but change cannot be a bad thing if it brings me these people
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Okay, here is the thing: I wouldn't go as far as calling him a "foil character" but down below are my shower thoughts about the similarities between Trant Heidelstam and Harry
Both Harry and Trant suffer(ed) from drug addiction. We don't know if Trant was dependent on them as Harry was for his work performance, but he managed to overcome his pyrholidon addiction (by replacing it with a "healthier" addiction, Lo Manthang stick fighting). It's hinted at that pastHarry & Trant talked about their addictions.
Funnily enough, both Trants and Harrys former jobs are more or less a mystery to the player, only hinted at with Harry remembering his former school and Trant beating around the bush with his "freelancer" jobs.
But there are also opposites, like Trant was able to maintain a healthy relationship with his ex-wife after their divorce and takes care of their kid, almost being the complete "healthy" opposite of Harry & Dora.
Interestingly Harry has no qualm committing to a political site and being vocal about it, while Trant seems to be the complete opposite, shying away from getting involved into politics. No matter what, Pryce will also count Harry in during the secret meeting with Gottlieb. Trant will always have the "No" answer.
And the most interesting similarity that started this whole thing:
It is being told by Dora that Harry isn't able to speak normally, their conversation flow reminding her like she is being questioned and Harry is ticking off boxes. Meeting him later in the game, we're being shown that Trant isn't able to talk in a normal way, often derailing the conversation with his answers by deep-diving really fast into the subject, recalling more-or-less relevant memories or jumping to a whole other topic 🤔
#loser#harry du bois#trant heidelstam#disco elysium#tbh I think this is more a coincidence but I like Trant and wish we got to more know about him and his relationship with pastHarry#he seems to be very interested to belong to the C-Wing team#and being called a because it's cool#and I also am intrigued about experiencing human-can-opener Harry vs beating-around-the-bush Trant#if Harry isn't even able to listen to Trant wikipedia deep dives for 4 seconds lmao
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I don’t have time to create content atm but my brain doesn’t stop coming up with shit. Like…
I‘m just imagining Draco being the most gentlemanliest and romantic chap ever, falling in love with Ron and Harry, going for a midnight swim with them and Ron and Harry are just like „Half naked Malfoy, noice” and Draco is like “Your freckles remind me of the starry sky, full of light and hope and leading me to safety” and “You’re like a warm summer storm. Wild and chilling eyes, yet radiating warmth. Not only physically. It’s warmth that reaches beneath my skin, that reaches my heart.”
And afterwards Ron and Harry lie in their beds starting at the ceiling like “My freckles are like stars” and “I’m a summer storm” and Hermione is just like “wtf?”
#drarry#dron#dronarry#harry potter#draco malfoy#ron weasley#gay#romantic#in that fantasy he also was in an open relationship with Pansy (like open on her end)#but they broke up cause they realised that she likes more curves and he likes no curves#so they just realised they both be gay lol#they still love each other#all the Slytherin girls love this Draco#this draco also does not know how to swim so midnight swim was a struggle
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