#kind of switch harry

[tsumtsumrry]

Film Bro

WC: 3.6k

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, sexual content (dry humping, somno (so dubcon just to be safe; please only read what you're comfortable with!!)

“And that’s why I fully believe that movies are better than books.” Harry finishes his lengthy tangent with a deep breath. He looks over at your bored face and a beat passes before you both burst into laughter at how he’s managed to turn such a frivolous topic into such a serious and longwinded rant. 

“You’re ridiculous and wrong.” You shoot back, offering him a close-lipped grin to soften the blow. 

You and Harry have always had differing opinions, but somehow, you’ve still managed to become really close friends. You’re always bickering and getting into little spats over stupid things, but you still love him. He makes you laugh and he makes you feel loved and warm, everything you’d want in a friend. And you know what they say, opposites do attract. 

His arm is slung around you, and both of you are sat down on his cozy couch as he tries to offer up a rebuttal to your rebuttal and all you do is roll your eyes and pretend to tune him out. 

“You’ve got to understand, love. With books, you read it, yeah? And if you’ve got no imagination, what does that do for you? With movies, you can see, feel, hear everything. It’s so much more immersive and touching when you can see everything happening right in front of you.” His arms leave your shoulder so he can use his hands to talk, animatedly explaining to you why he believes you’re so wrong. He looks at your face for a second, when your features start to soften he smirks and points at you excitedly, “See I’m converting you! And you know I’m right.” He leans back with a smug grin. 

You just shrug, “You can think whatever you want, film bro. But I know that books are the most immersive experience on earth. There is nothing like reading words on a page and feeling them hit you with every letter. The good part about books is that even if that author doesn’t completely spell it out for you, you can create a piece of that world yourself, something that’ll always be yours to have and to cherish. Nobody else’s.” 

He looks up to the ceiling in thought, twisting his lips like he’s considering it. You think you’ve got him until he suddenly perks up and opens his mouth to speak, “Ah, but like I said, the imagination thing. Can’t do any of that if I’ve got a shit imagination.” That smug smirk is back on his face and you roll your eyes. Guess he can win this round. You’re so incredibly tired from work anyway and you just shrug which causes him to let out a small sound of victory. 

“And I am right again…as always.” He flashes you his signature smirk and you grab a pillow from behind you and smack him hard with it. 

“Dickwad.” you murmur. 

“Hey!” he chokes out a laugh, grabbing the pillow from your hands and placing it behind him instead, “You’ve lost your privileges, sweet girl.” He chuckles softly because he knows you hate when he calls you that. 

He brings his hand out to motion to the TV in front of you and then swings his arm right back around your shoulder, “see. Look at this.” He instructs. You’ve almost forgotten a movie was playing with how into the debate you’ve gotten with him. The scene on the TV flashes in your eyes, a couple making out hungrily and desperately. 

The male actor is pawing at every piece of his co-star’s skin that he can find, and with every touch, her breath hitches and her leg hikes higher up on his waist. They kiss like this is the last time they’ll be able to. The soft moans and grunts coming from the scene make your pupils blow out and your chest tighten. Your thighs push together softly and you curse your body’s inability to stay in control. 

Harry raises his eyebrows and gives you a slow once over with an amused smirk on his lips, “a book ever make you feel like that? This fast?” You know he’s only teasing you, but you’re so immersed in the scene that you can’t even find it in you to care when you shake your head. 

“This is exactly what I mean. A book might describe a touch, but actually seeing it, seeing him touch her like that, seeing how she’s enjoying it, how she reacts to it, that’s just cinema. Can’t find that feeling anywhere else.”

His voice has lowered in volume and timbre to match the intimacy of the scene you’re both watching, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close he’s gotten to you and how ridiculously loud those moans are. And if you weren’t a little turned on and a lot confused, you would laugh at it. 

You become even more hyper-aware of his fingers on your shoulder, caressing softly, the slightest touch, and you have no idea why it’s making you feel hot. His calloused fingers somehow feel light and gentle as a feather when he traces his index finger on your shoulder. And he just keeps going. As if it’s nothing. As if it’s not driving you crazy. 

You wonder if he knows what he’s doing. You’ve always known Harry to be touchy, but right now? It feels different, or maybe you’re feeling different. You don’t know, but it’s currently driving you a little crazy. That imagination you were so keen on before is really coming back to bite you in the ass when you start imagining the female lead to be you and the male lead to be…Harry.  

And what even brought this on? He’s always been attractive, yes, but these thoughts racing through your head, that’s more than an acknowledgment of attractiveness. 

He says your name softly, looking down at you curiously. You look up at him and latch on to the concerned look in his eyes, “you’re so quiet. What’s the matter? Mad I won again?” You can’t even fight the smile that graces your face and he mirrors you with a smile of his own. 

“Haha.” you deadpan. “You literally wish.” A soft chuckle leaves him followed by a sigh. He knows you like the back of his hand. And he knows that you’re both kind of turned on and very exhausted, so he expertly takes control of the situation and pats your shoulder softly, “you sleeping over tonight?” 

You nod softly, and he grunts as he tries to maneuver you up off of the couch, “come on. That’s it.” You really play into the damsel in distress bit (like you always do when he offers to take you to bed) and you let him lead your tired body to his bedroom. 

He sets you down on his bed and snorts when you let your body flop onto the mattress. “I’m gonna have a shower. I know you’re gonna be passed out by the time I get back, so goodnight. Dream of really nice sex scenes. Like the one that’s got you so turned on right now—” He can barely finish his sentence before another pillow is being hurled at him. 

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry, Jesus. Gotta tie your hands together or something.” he speaks through a laugh. You just shoot him a bored look and he rolls his eyes and leans down to press a delicate kiss to your forehead. 

“Night, sweet girl.” 

You don’t even remember falling asleep, but you remember Harry getting into bed. The world-class cuddler’s arms were immediately wrapped around you after he got comfortable. 

You figure it’s been about two hours when you start to stir. That’s always been a thing with you, waking up in the middle of the night and falling right back asleep. Harry usually lulls you back to sleep with a gentle forehead kiss and a tighter cuddle. You sleep much better when you stay over at his place. All feels right in the world when you’re in Harry’s arms. Something about him makes anyone he touches immediately feel at home. You cuddle up closer to him innocently, and he mumbles out your name. 

You figure he must just be trying to coax you back to sleep, so you nod, barely awake, and drift back off into the comfortable safe haven that is sleeping next to a human angel. 

Harry, on the other hand, is also in heaven. Just a different kind. 

He’s fully immersed in a dream where you’re the object of all his desires, standing in front of him in a get-up that’s so sinful and alluring it’s got him begging for you to let him touch the masterpiece that is your body. 

You tease him and torture him until he can’t take it anymore, trailing your hands across his soft skin, kissing his neck and his jaw, leaving marks that he knows will give him flashbacks of how you ruined him when he sees them tomorrow. 

“God, please, sweet girl. Let me have you.” he’s begging. And Harry is definitely not one to beg, you’ve reduced him to a puddle of need, grasping at any part of you that he can get. 

“Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I did though, right?” You pout at him with faux sympathy dripping from your voice and expression like venom. He groans deeply again when you palm his clothed bulge, rubbing the slightest bit to where he gets stimulation, but not what he needs. 

His breath hitches as you press harder for a moment before letting off, and then bringing your hand back to his bulge. He chokes out a soft groan, willing himself to endure your cruel punishment so he can have what he craves so badly.

“I’ve been s’good for you, baby. Don’t fuckin’ deserve this,” he whines out his words, desperate to the point that he has no shame in losing himself for you, in you. “I’ll do anything for you, sweet girl. Please.” His heart pounds, his eyes frantically searching yours for any sign of mercy. 

His hips start to thrust up in tandem with your soft rubbing, frankly unable to control himself with how absolutely ruined you’ve got him. His voice starts to shatter when he speaks and his eyes squeeze shut when you swing your legs around his hips and sit comfortably on his lap. 

He looks up at you with that fucked out, ruined expression and you pout at him again, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging just the way that he likes. Your hips move slowly against him like you’re testing the waters, and he immediately copies your movements, taking anything he can get from you, whining deeply in the back of his throat. He knows he’s leaking in his boxers and it would take nothing for him to explode right now. 

You’re just so fucking sexy. Everything about you is like a tease to him. Your voice, your soft touch, that expression you make when you beat him in a debate, the expression you’re making right now as you take what’s rightfully yours. His cheeks flame a rosy pink as he looks up at you, his pupils blown and his cock throbbing with need.

His head rolls back as your hips start to meet faster, eyes heavy-lidded. He looks back up at you with a plead swimming in his irises, his hands balled into fists to avoid doing something he knows he shouldn’t. Your hips move faster and faster and faster….

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, his hips rutting needily, but slowly against your ass. His arms are still wrapped around you as he pulls you closer into him, his abs flexing as he uses your body to relieve the deep pressure in his gut. 

Small moans and whimpers leave his lips, occasionally your name. Both of you are still fast asleep as he works himself into an absolute frenzy, his face is buried in your neck, shaky puffs of breath hitting your skin. Images of him worshipping your body and the feeling of that delicious friction on his throbbing cock are all that his brain can register right now. 

The feeling of your soft cotton shorts and your supple ass consumes him as he trembles gently with every thrust, his cock sensitive from the slow teasing game his body is inflicting on him. What was once soft sighs, turn to slightly louder, more needy sounds. He mumbles and slurs out incoherent words through his bliss, probably some variation of what he’s saying to you in his dream.

It’s not even the movement that wakes you, it’s those sounds, those unabashed needy little noises that he’s making. Your eyes fly open and a small gasp rips through your throat and you register three things at once. 

Harry’s the one making those sounds. 

Harry’s arms are wrapped tightly around you as he rubs himself against your ass. 

And your thighs are sticky and warm with your arousal. 

Your first instinct is to freak out a little, considering you’ve just woken up to one of your closest friends getting themselves off on you. But then you turn your head around the slightest bit and you realize, he’s still asleep. 

The poor baby’s worked himself up somehow and doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, doesn’t realize how needy he is. His face wears a tortured expression, his eyebrows arched and pushed tightly together. The desperate soft sounds continue to leave his slightly parted lips and all you can think about in this moment is how much you want to kiss his lips, soft and bitten. 

Honestly, you’re at a loss of what to do in this situation. Do you wake him? Do you let him keep going until he ruins his pants? Do you just will yourself to go back to sleep and pretend this never happened? You know that last one’s definitely not going to work considering how ridiculously turned on you are. With every thrust against your ass, an onslaught of butterflies assault your stomach and you feel the pool in your underwear only getting wetter. 

You don’t want to stop him. 

“S..sweet girl.” He’s dreaming about you. Your entire body melts into a puddle when he mumbles out that petname that you pretend to hate.

Being the good friend you are, you figure you could at least help him along. 

Your arm manages to break free from his hold and you use it as leverage to get your body to turn around to face him, once he loses his friction, a deep sound of disappointed leaves him and his brows fall, a pout gracing his face. His hips move in frustration as he tries to gain back the friction and you can’t help but feel bad for him. 

“Harry.” you take ahold of his shoulder and shake him gently, “Harry.” 

His body twitches a little in response to you rousing him and you smile gently, “Harry.” 

His eyes flutter open and when he’s met with your eyes staring into his, for a moment he only looks disoriented, a little confused and grumpy that he’s being woken up. But then his eyes widen and you swear if it wasn’t so dark in his room you’d see every bit of pigment drain from his face. 

“Shit. Oh my god.” It doesn’t take him long to figure out why you’ve woken him up. He’s so hard, sensitive, and it feels like he could come at any moment. And you’re looking at him like that. 

“I’m so sorry. Holy shit I’m really really—I didn’t know what I was—” you don’t let him slur out anything else before you pull his lips into yours, kissing him with the same desperation that you can feel radiating off of his body. 

You pull away from his lips with a soft click and his expression when you’re eye to eye again is one you know you’re going to commit to memory. He’s looking at you like you hung the moon and stars. You can still see that subtle frustration in his eyes though, you know he’s fighting to keep his hips under control. You hike your leg up so it rests over his hip and inhale deeply once your crotches are pressed together, “keep going. It’s okay.” You reassure him. 

He stares at you for a moment as if he’s unsure, and you nod, scooting closer to him and encouraging him to put his hands back on you, “it’s okay, baby.” 

Your soothing, yet sensual whisper of that name is what breaks him. His hips roll one slow thrust against your core and his jaw falls open in a deep groan. Your breath hitches at the feeling, you didn’t realize how sensitive you were until you felt him move against you, and fuck, you’re really sensitive. 

His breathing gets heavier as he continues to fuck himself against your cunt, maintaining eye contact with you as he loses himself in the white hot pleasure that’s tormenting every part of his body. It feels so much deeper than normal, it feels like you’re everywhere all at once, and he’s not even inside you. You guys are merely dry humping on his bed but it somehow feels like the most intense thing that he’s ever experienced. 

He says your name and you hum to let him know you’re listening, “you feel so fucking good. How do you feel this good?” he sounds out of his mind with pleasure. You can’t even find the words to respond to him so you just nod quickly and lean into to capture his lips with yours again. He moans into the kiss and his hands shoot to your hips to urge you faster against him and pull you closer.  

It feels like he can’t get enough of you, like he can’t get close enough. His hands reach for every sliver of skin he can find, his lips attack your jaw and neck, leaving marks on you just like you did to him in his dream. Every kiss he leaves is frantic, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. Continuous praises leave his lips, like he has to show you how grateful he is. 

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Feel so soft.”

“So much fucking better than my dreams.”

“Fucking perfect.” 

“Can’t believe you’re this wet from me using you like that. Filthy fucking thing.” he’s losing his restraint and you can absolutely tell, the way he’s talking to you, looking at you, thrusting against you, he’s letting go in the best way. He’s just doing what he knows will feel best for the both of you. 

“Such a good girl. Taking me like this, fuck.” 

You whimper softly as the tip of his cock bumps against your sensitive mound through the confines of your clothes. Originally you just wanted to get him off, but you find yourself chasing that release to, and it’s building faster than you thought. He feels amazing. With every deep grind against your cunt he drives you further and further into a pleasure induced oblivion. You should be embarrassed at the sounds leaving you and how you’re already so close, but it just feels too damn good to care. 

“Harry…fuck.” you grip tightly onto his pajama shirt, grasping at whatever you can to ground yourself with the way you feel like you’re floating off the ground right now. 

“Love the way you say my fucking name.” the words fall out of his mouth in a desperate whine, his hips move faster and needier and he buries his face in your neck to cope with all the sensations. He lifts his head up the slightest bit so his mouth is positioned right next to your ear and a full body shiver wracks through your body when he speaks, “need you to come for me, sweet girl. Can you do that for me? Know you’re close.” 

“So close, baby please.” you babble out, your hips moving together in a frantic rhythm to reach your climax. He encourages you with desperate words that sound more like whimpers and uses his firm grip on your hips to drive you harder against him. 

It builds and builds until everything in you draws up taut like a bow, you shudder through the release and Harry can’t keep his eyes off of your expression as he gently pushes you through it. 

“Gonna make me make a mess in my fuckin’ pants, fuck.” You fight through the painful pleasure of overstimulation as he chases his release, focusing in on the way he almost looks pained as he works himself against you so desperately.

A rushed whisper of, “m’coming” leaves him before his thrusts grow sloppier and rougher. His mouth falls open as needy, filthy noises leave his lips. He practically sings your praises as he makes a mess on the both of you, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck to ground himself as he works through a powerful release. 

“Sweet girl.” he whispers after a moment of silence, bringing his face out of your neck to look at you. His hands come up to caress your cheek, blowing out a breath from his mouth like he’s in awe of you. 

“Hi.” you whisper back, “that was….” 

“Yeah.” he finishes. A small chuckle leaving his lips at how awkward you two are making this. 

You’re unsure what to say for a moment and you look away, but his fingers grab your chin, “don’t do that. I like looking at you.” 

You look away again in pure shyness and he laughs and forces your eye contact again, “don’t!” he speaks through his laugh. 

He leans down to kiss you and a pleased hum leaves both of your lips, he barely disconnects from you before he starts to speak, “you believe me now, right?” 

“What do you mean?” you whisper. 

“Movies are better than books.”

[slipperysheep]

silly whiteboard sketchies!!!

much thanks to @pebbleyoufindonthestreet since they introduced me to whiteboard teehee

still can't really draw harry and larry too well, but they're still so silly

adding alt text to the images as well since ✨compression✨

more below

my honest reaction when i slightly color them:

the goobers

[empress-of-snark]

Half the townspeople of Patience probably just assume that Harry and Asta are secretly hooking up at this point, right? Like, they’re always hanging out, eating literally every meal together, going on weekend trips to New York, constantly sneaking off into the woods, etc etc

They’re probably super paranoid that people will find out about all the alien business, but really everyone’s just like “yeah those two are obviously banging”

[innytoes]

Leverage + JATP crossover AU?? Like. Imagine Eliot and Sophie specifically having to deal with Caleb Covington

-I am so tickled by this idea. Like, they didn't even die, they're still alive. Like, you know that if ghosts were real, at least Sophie and Eliot would know. Parker too, but she's just like: um what's the big deal? They're just people who died. They're still awkward to talk to. (She is pissed about the whole, they can walk through walls and don't set off alarms thing, but then she realises they can't actually steal stuff so it's fine.)

-Parker has 100% heard someone skateboarding through an empty museum while she was stealing a painting, and just been like: that's none of my business.

-Nate never knew about the ghosts because everyone who did agreed it would send him off the deep end trying to get his son back.

-Somehow, Sophie got into the club (as a guest while grifting) and somehow managed to avoid the whole 'Caleb steals your soul' thing and he's still mad about it.

-You know she 100% enjoyed the show, though. She was sad she had to slip out to finish her whole grift before midnight.

-Eliot knows about Area 51/52, he knows about the Ghosts, okay. Moreau 100% had dealings with Caleb. Eliot totally had a stare off with Caleb's Chair Twink. No he will not have anything to drink, he's bodyguarding and also his Granny taught him better than to accept food or drink from what may or may not be one of the Fair Folk.

-Hardison is NOT OKAY when he learns about the ghosts. He is even less okay when he realises the others all KNEW.

-Breanna is just super stoked that the Phantoms in Julie and the Phantoms are real ghosts.

-Things hit the fan when they realise Caleb Covington owns the soul of Willie. Either Sophie or Eliot recognises him in an old photo album Nana was showing the team (much to Hardison's embarrassment because she was showing them his old tween pictures).

-Because Willie was one of Nana's foster kids. He was only with her for a few months before he got hit by that car, but he was One of Theirs and the fact that his soul is trapped is Not Okay.

-Let's go steal back a Willie.

[lemonbombsfjl]

💙🌊*Share far and wide to nip this nonsense in the bud.*

They picked on Biden’s stutter! Never again! Enough of this mean-spirited petty bullshit!

WE ALL DO IT. Remember your mom’s ‘phone voice?’ You own speaking voice when you talk to a supervisor or teacher? Not the same voice as when you order a coffee, or talk to a child, or chat with friends.

•psychologytoday.com/us/blog/achieving-health-equity/202012/what-is-code-switching

•en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Code-switching

[ob-aube]

Really great insight to explain one of biggest HP plot hole.

[jrueships]

rewatched shooting stars aka the baby bron and friends movie <3 very cute

[chthonicrose]

hot friendship tips: randomly meet someone who has the same reference pool of internet culture and media as you on tumblr and then live together for ten years so you've inflicted everything you care about on each other so they always know exactly what you're talking about even when you're completely incoherently trying to describe something you only half remember and sound insane

[monicaalexandraaa]

Ahhhh!! I loved how lighthearted their chat was in the beginning and that carried over throughout the rest. Loved all the little details and effort she put in to make it fun. Even in the bedroom there were some sweet and silly moments (while simultaneously being filthy and hot) and that is perfect in my book😌🤭sweet, sexy and fun!! Amazing!🩷

Truth or Dare | slumber party!h

Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.

A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,752

Warning: smut

. . .

By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.

He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).

The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.

Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”

“Really? Surely you had friends…”

Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”

Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”

“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.

“Taxi. You?”

“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”

Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.

“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”

“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”

Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”

Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”

Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”

Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.

A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”

Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”

She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”

He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”

They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.

Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”

Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”

.                 .                 .

Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.

Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.

And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.

Right?

Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.

When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.

Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.

And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…

“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.

“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”

She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”

He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.

“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.

Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.

“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.

Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.

They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.

Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”

Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”

Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”

Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”

He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”

Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.

“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”

Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”

“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”

Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.

She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”

Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”

Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”

His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”

She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”

Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”

“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.

Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”

Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.

Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)

Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”

Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.

She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?

lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way

Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.

She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”

Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”

Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”

Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.

And it wasn’t. Not even close.

You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.

“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”

Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.

He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”

And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.

“Truth.”

She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.

“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.

Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!

“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.

He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”

Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”

“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”

Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.

She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”

Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”

He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”

“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.

“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.

Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.

Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”

“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”

She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…

“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.

She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”

“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”

Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”

Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”

She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.

He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.

She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.

Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.

Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).

“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”

Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”

She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.

She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.

She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”

A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”

He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”

Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”

He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.

Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”

She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.

Jesus Christ.

Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”

She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?

Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.

Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”

She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.

His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.

It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.

He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”

She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.

Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.

Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.

He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.

She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.

“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”

Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”

Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.

“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”

She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.

“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”

She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.

Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”

Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.

She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.

She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.

“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.

Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.

“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.

“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  

Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.

He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”

She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”

“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.

“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.

“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”

He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.

When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.

“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.

“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.

When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.

Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.

She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet splats every time he plunged in.

When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.

“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.

“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”

Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.

“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”

Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”

She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.

She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”

Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.

“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”

The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.

He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”

Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.

Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.

So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”

When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”

He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”

She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.

His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.

He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”

She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”

He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.

Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.

With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.

Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”

She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”

Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”

Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”

He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”

. . .

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran   @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince

@closureesny @angelbabyyy99 @damnasstyles @malwtilda @love-letters-to-uranus

@itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs

@lc-fics @mema10 @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut

@elidoho @gotdrxnkonu @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @tiredinwinter

@princessaxoxo @angeldavis777 @lillefroe @monicaalexandraaa @hsonlyangelxo

@brittanyzelazno @lemoncrushh @golfrry @caynonmoondreams @danaehldy

@mellamolayla @ladscarlett @heartateasee @littlenatilda @virgopr1ncess

@finelinepie @michellekstyles @harrysredroom @harrydeary @mrs-anna-styles211994

@devilsqueen722 @bananabk9756 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @idkkkkkkk123lgb @freedomfireflies

[finelinefae]

safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.

word count: 5.4k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey

a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333

this is part 2 of bambi, read part 1 here

. . .

Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.

This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.

Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.

She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.

Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.

Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”

Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.

“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.

“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.

“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”

“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”

“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”

His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”

“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”

Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”

“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ‘bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?

“Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”

Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe. 

. . . 

Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother. 

“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.

“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.

“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.

Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”

Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.

“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”

Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”

Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”

Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.

“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.

“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”

She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”

Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”

Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”

“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”

“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”

“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”

Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.

“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.

“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.

“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.

Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said. 

“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.

They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.

“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”

Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”

“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”

“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.

A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.

“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.

Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”

Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”

“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.

“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.

“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.

“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.

Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”

“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”

Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”

Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”

“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.

“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.

“Better.”

“Ice cream?”

Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”

Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.

Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.

Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.

Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.

“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”

Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.

Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

. . .

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.

"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"

Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.

Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."

Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.

Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"

"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.

"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"

She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."

"I do that?" she asked, surprised.

"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."

"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.

"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."

Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"

"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."

Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.

She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.

That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"

Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.

Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.

. . .

Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.

She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.

Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x

A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.

She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.

Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕

Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.

She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.

Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.

You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.

Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x

Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x

Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday

Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage. 

Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.

She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.

“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.

She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”

“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.

Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear. 

The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.

As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.

When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.

Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.

“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”

Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”

Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.” 

Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”

Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good. 

“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.” 

. . .

Y/N liked Lindsey a lot. 

She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.

Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.

Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.

“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.

She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”

Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.

“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”

“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.

“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”

Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.

As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.

In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.

““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”

Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.

“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.

“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.

Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.

Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”

“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.

“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. “Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.

Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.

Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.

Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”

“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”

“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.

A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”

“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”

“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.

“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers. 

“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.

“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”

“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.

“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.

A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”

“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.

Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.

. . .

Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”

“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer. 

“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”

“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house. 

“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?” 

“Y-Yeah, I think so.”

“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.

Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.

Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing

Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!

Harry: Can’t help it Bambi 

Harry: I’m obsessed with you

. . .

taglist ~~

@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy  @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[writers-potion]

The classic betrayer

This is where everyone subtly knows that this guy's going to turn the other way.

The betrayer puts on a show for our heroes - kind, compassionate and supporting at first.

it just so happens that the villainthinks the heros are the bad guys.

make them actually likable.emotionally ruin the hero upon betrayal.

The remorseful traitor

whether he had bad intentions from the start or was deceived by others, the betrayer regrets his choices.

when he realizes his mistakes, it's too late to stop the evil, which introduces guilt.

throw the guilt and shame on the character.

even the protagonist can be a traitor! will others forgive him?

The Double Agent

this type of traitor will keep the readers wondering whether this guy is truly on your side.

keep your readers guessing. is that an evil smirk or a genuine smile? does he really love drinking, or is he just trying to get the hero drugged?

Snape in Harry Potter is a great example.

The guy can be good or bad - just keep balancing the two

Unrealiable narrators

these characters are not entirely betrayers, but horribly misinformed. they can make others appear like traitors - when in truth, they just have it wrong.

pit your narrow-minded narrator against his allies.

these characters are great for misunderstanding plots.

have your narrator do irreversible damage to the hero. would they forgive him?

Tragic betrayers

these are characters, due to their past wounds and trauma, cannot help but betray the group.

they confess the hero's secrets under physical/mental torment and doesn't have the backbone to do otherwise.

these characters can either be pitiful or frustrating would the hero still fight for the betrayer?

Play around with pov

you can have the readers know about the upcomong betrayal by switching points of view, building up anticipation to the moment of realization.

on the flip side, you can change povs in a way that the reader doens't see what's happening at the hero's back.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[sundrop-writes]

The Restricted Section

Hermione Granger x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader x Harry Potter

Summary:

Harry wishes that Hermione would just relax. Just because he doesn't know the exact source of a hand-written spell in an old textbook doesn't mean that it's completely evil.

Intent to prove her wrong, he dawns his Invisibility Cloak and sneaks off to the Restricted Section of the library, looking for a more solid source of that spell - and he completely forgets everything that he set out to do when he finds Hermione along the way, doing something (or rather, someone) in a secluded corner of the library that is definitely not studying. (Something that he'll never be able to get out of his mind ever again.)

Hermione Granger x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader x Harry Potter. Accidental Voyeurism upon an Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during Half-Blood Prince.

Word Count: 4,400

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic is primarily smut focused; there is some very vague plot - Harry and Hermione have an argument because Hermione doesn't like the Half-Blood Prince's book and wants Harry to get rid of it (and they are still not on good terms when the smutty stuff comes up); passing mention of a hex that gives you boils that never heal; the primary pairing in this fic is between Hermione and the reader, and Harry spies on them having sex using his Invisibility Cloak - that does mean that this fic has dubious consent and dubious morality, because Harry never asks for their permission to watch and never reveals himself to them, and during the course of this fic they also don't find out that he's there (if this is the kind of thing that makes you uncomfortable, then I would recommend moving on to one of my other fics); the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; the reader's looks - including race, hair colour, skin tone, etc. are not described in anyway; there is use of Y/N in this fic; the reader is a Gryffindor in this fic (I wanted her to be closer with Hermione, sharing a dorm with her, and be closer to the trio in general); Harry has had a crush on the reader for a while before this, but this is the first time he views Hermione sexually past his platonic friendship feelings for her; accidental voyeurism - Harry does not intend to spy on the girls, but once he discovers them, he doesn't stop watching; semi-public sex - Hermione and the reader are fucking in the library, but they are fucking in a much more secluded part of the library where Hermione knows that someone is less likely to discover them; there is some sub/dom dynamics - Hermione and the reader having a pre-existing sub/dom relationship where Hermione is very dominant and the reader is submissive, and Harry is understanding those dynamics as he observes them; Hermione calls the reader: little girl (not as indication of her size, but as a form of degradation and condescension), little bitch, little whore, slutty, brat, darling,; Hermione demands to be called 'Mistress'; Harry is a switch - he imagines himself as both dominant and submissive in his fantasies; (Harry as a 'sir' kink in his fantasies); mentions of creampie kink (one of Harry's fantasies); Hermione is very mean and condescending toward the reader; brat taming/punishment and reward - the reader has 'misbehaved' and Hermione seeks to correct it; degradation kink (towards the reader); Hermione fingers the reader; Hermione uses the reader's tie like a leash; lots of dirty talk (from Hermione); Harry considers masturbating but does not (because he fears getting caught) (and there is a mention of him masturbating to thoughts of what happened in a more private space afterwards); pussy spanking/clit spanking (from Hermione towards reader) and ass spanking (towards reader - just once) (no severe pain kink); orgasm denial (towards the reader); I believe that's it.

A/N: This was such a random idea that zapped into my head that demanded to be written. People were asking for Hermione x Fem!Reader smut and it was something I really wanted to do, but I only really felt inspired to do it when it occurred to me to write Hermione through Harry's eyes. To talk about her going from this very non-sexual being to someone so sexually powerful in his eyes - it was something really fun. And I am so glad I actually managed to squeeze this one in and finish it before the poll for the other fic finished up. I feel like this is such a fun, Harry Potter based idea that uses themes and elements unique to the series. And it's wonderful, filthy horny smut. So I hope that you guys enjoy!!

...

Harry really didn’t understand Hermione sometimes. 

She was an amazing friend, someone that he wouldn’t trade for the world - someone so wonderfully loyal, smart, and fun to be around during the times when she let herself actually relax and untense. But during the times when she had that intensely large stick up her arse, she could be the biggest pain in the world. Sometimes, it was like she stayed up late in her dormitory, just thinking of ways to drive Harry and Ron utterly mad. 

Yes, Harry knew that his particular fascination with the Half-Blood Prince’s book was not exactly… normal. But Hermione’s attachment to a lot of her books was never normal either. And just because the book was old didn’t mean that it was bad. Just because Harry was fascinated by it didn’t mean that there would be negative consequences. 

There was no reason for her to go off on a long tangent about ‘dark magic’ and ‘the Latin origins of spells’ when he had asked her about a hand-written spell that was in the book. Something that spiralled into a huge argument between the two of them when he refused to hand over the Prince’s book once she had asked him where he had gotten the spell. To her, it was something that sounded very dangerous, and she complained that therefore, the whole book was dangerous. He complained that she had a knot in her knickers because he had just been asking if she knew what the spell was or not, if she had heard of it before - it’s not like he had any intentions of actually using it. 

And then Hermione had warned him that he should simply throw the book away and he told her that she was just jealous that he was actually getting better grades than her in a class for once, and the night ended with her huffing off to bed and stomping up the stairs - and the two of them hadn’t spoken in over a day because of it. Ron was nagging both of them to make-up - but Harry was chuffed, honestly. For once, Ron knew what it felt like to be between two feuding friends, trying to mend the fences. 

Harry wasn’t going to apologise. 

Hermione wasn’t the queen of everything. She couldn’t just demand things from him and expect him to follow suit. He had his own brain, despite what she thought, and he could make his own judgements. Harry had no plans to use the spell if Hermione thought it was dangerous, and he had just been asking about it out of curiosity. But he was more peeved that it led to her demanding that he throw the book away or destroy it, like she held some authority over him, like she was his damn mother or something. 

This left Harry stewing in his annoyance as he made his way to the Restricted Section of the library the next night. He was still curious if the spell had any other known origins - another spell book, some kind of book about dark magic. Hell, he would revert to a Latin textbook if he was desperate, just to get a leg-up without directly asking Hermione. But he was headed to the Restricted Section first - because as much as she was annoying, Hermione usually was right. 

He was feeling confident and perhaps a bit cocky to find the source of the spell and wield some more knowledge over her that she didn’t have. For once. 

Harry had dawned his Invisibility Cloak for this task, of course. It wasn’t past curfew yet, but the library was about ten minutes from closing, and he knew that it would be easier to sneak in before Madame Pince locked up and stay there well after dark, taking his time in order to find what he needed. And any trip to the Restricted Section without a note from a professor giving permission required such a disguise. 

The library was practically deserted due to the late hour - most students having wandered off to bed like good rule followers. Harry wasn’t surprised when he heard a particular, familiar voice coming from an isolated area of small desks study carols back between a few towering book cases. Of course, she would think that this would be the perfect place to get her work done, undisturbed. He couldn’t hold back from rolling his eyes when he heard that voice taking on her usual scolding, bossy tone. 

“I am not at all pleased with you, you know that?” 

It was Hermione. 

Harry knew for a fact that Ron was in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, his face unpleasantly glued to Lavender’s once again, so he wasn’t the one in the path of Hermione’s wrath this time. Harry had to wonder who exactly had come on the other end of her up-tight, nosy fortitude. 

He had seen Hermione usher you off to the library after class earlier that afternoon, saying something about the mark on your last Transfiguration essay being ‘far below your usual standard’, and talking about how you ‘needed to follow her study schedule more closely’ - and Harry had felt sorry for you at the time, if anything. The fact that you would have Hermione hovering over your shoulder, bothering you all afternoon, marking all your work and making you redo it to her incredibly high standards. 

Sometimes, he felt sorry for the fact that you had to share a dorm with her. That you couldn’t escape Hermione even for a peaceful night of slumber. 

But surely the two of you hadn’t spent this long in the library together. Even you wouldn’t take three or four hours to do your homework up to Hermione’s standards. She would have freed you by now - and with any luck, you would be off somewhere, snogging some lucky bloke - (Harry couldn’t let that particular train of jealous thought get to him right now). 

“Little girl, am I going to have to get mean with you?” 

Hermione’s voice came again, just as bitter as usual, and then it clicked with Harry. 

No, it wasn’t you, perhaps Hermione was taking out her anger on a couple of First Years for not doing their homework, getting on the wrong end of Hermione’s ill-guided Prefect power that she wielded like a presidency. Harry held back a scoff of laughter, and he couldn’t help the urge to move toward the sound of her voice, eager to see what exactly was going on. 

“Stop being such a whiny little bitch - you asked for this. Now shut up and take it like a good little whore.” 

Those words - those words in Hermione’s voice - immediately smacked Harry in the face harder than any stunning curse ever could have. He craned his neck around the bookcase in front of him so hard to see what was happening that he harshly smacked one of his shoulders, nearly giving himself away with the noise and having to strangle down his cry of pain in order not to be caught. 

However, after a moment, he came around the corner completely and rested against the bookcase comfortably as his eyes took in the utterly unbelievable sight at the other end of the aisle. 

Holy fuck. 

Holy… fuck. 

It was you. 

You and Hermione. Hermione and you. 

You and Hermione looking like some sort of unbelievable pornographic dream. 

Hermione had you pressed up against a desk, your legs spread wide for her with your arse just balanced on the edge of the table while she stood between them - it took Harry’s very stunned brain a moment to process it, but he realised that her arm working furiously between your thighs like that, pistoning back and forth while you spread your legs wider and leaned into the touch could only mean one thing. 

She was finger-fucking your pussy. 

Harry had no clue how he hadn’t picked up on the other sounds previously, especially not in the dead quiet of the library. But it was blatantly fucking clear to his ears now. The sound of your wetness sliding against her fingers, so beautifully sloppy - he could only imagine how slick you were, how pretty your cunt looked around her fingers, which were usually only meant for gripping quills or turning the pages in her next book. Along with your repressed moans, barely caught in your chest where you were biting your lip raw, clearly trying your best to stay quiet - the sounds coming out, as Hermione had described them: whines, as though you were a needy bitch in heat. 

Harry was in utter shock. 

Never, in a thousand years, would ever have imagined Hermione Granger looking at you with crazed heat in her eyes, her stern brow and disappointed frown somehow so perfectly fitting for the situation. Scolding you in her bossy voice while she held on tight to your Gryffindor tie like a leash, keeping your posture tight and straight as she finger-fucked you in the most rough, harsh way that Harry could have ever pictured. 

Hermione - uptight, bookish, rule-bound Hermione - fucking you in the library where anybody could have caught the two of you. It seemed so wildly unimaginable, and yet - when more scolding words came out of her lips in that bossy tone, it seemed… so terribly fitting for her. 

“You’ve been such a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Hermione breathed hotly, giving another harsh tug on your tie that made you whine deeply in the back of your throat. 

Harry swore the sound of her fingers jabbing between your legs became even wetter, sloppier sounding. So you liked being called naughty. 

“Yes, I have-” You whined out, and Hermione tugged the tie again, cutting off anything further that you had to say with a harsh jolt. 

Harry’s cock snapped to attention at an alarmingly fast rate, the blood rushing into his prick so quickly that it almost made him dizzy. The moral contention of watching two of his good friends go at it didn’t really cross his mind at all (perhaps his morality was going a bit too grey, using an old marked up book to ‘cheat’ in his classes these days). But he knew that wanking would be a bad idea simply based on the fact that he would have a difficult time staying quiet. So he reached down and squeezed the bulge in his trousers, gaining little relief from this as he looked on. He likely wouldn’t have been able to pull his eyes away if Voldemort himself showed up and demanded it. 

“Such a naughty little bitch - you can’t even go one afternoon without having your slutty cunt filled, can you?” Hermione demanded, her words seemingly growing filthier by the second. 

“I need it.” You moaned, arching into her further, as though you were possessed. 

Harry would have wondered if she had been replaced by someone else, or bewitched - but you seemed to love it, loved everything she was saying. She seemed to be playing into a knowledge of your kinks, things that she knew would make you weaker and more lustful in her hands. Which was so Hermione that it was painful. Studying for something, keeping a backlog of useful knowledge. 

Harry just never would have guessed that she would have used her big brain for this. 

What made matters even more dizzying and shocking - this was Hermione and you. A pair he never would have thought up that also somehow made so much sense. Now, every single time the two of you snuck off giggling and Harry thought that it was just something girlish that he didn’t understand - he had to wonder what the two of you had been doing. 

The fact that Hermione had been Viktor Krum’s date to the Yule Ball and you had been Harry’s, but you and Hermione had been glued to each other all night made a lot more sense. Every single time the two of you walked to class together holding hands, every single time you showed up to the Gryffindor table with some kind of glaring love mark on your neck and Ginny or someone else asked you about it and Hermione had laughed when you named off a different boy from a different house - it all made strange sense in Harry’s eyes. 

This was you - one of the hottest, most sought-after girls at Hogwarts. The star of every single one of Harry’s wanking fantasies since you had given him a pity kiss under some mistletoe after a DA meeting. (He had a feeling that Hermione would be sneaking into those fantasies too, now, as much as he had tried to keep her out on the grounds that it would be rude to wank to his best friend). You, someone who was so gorgeous and so desirable and somehow never seemed to have a long-term boyfriend, as often as guys asked you on dates, and as often as you claimed to like certain boys and even flirted with them. 

Apparently Hermione had been keeping you on a leash this whole time. A tight leash - just like the way she was holding your tie, keeping you close, keeping you waiting with baited breath for her next move. 

“Mione-” You breathed out in return, a slight begging in your voice that had Harry light-headed in seconds. 

This was better than any fantasy he could have dreamt up. 

“Ah-ah. Hush, little girl.” Hermione fired back, that bossy condescending she always used somehow sounding all the more perfect in this context. “You’ve been such a proper brat all day, and you’re going to take what I give you, understand?” 

You nodded your head (as much as you could with the hold she had on you) and made a noise of affirmation. But Hermione gave another sharp tug on your tie, clearly displeased with this. 

“Come on, use your words now. Be a good girl.” She ordered sharply, the only thing giving away what must have been her own arousal being a slight hint of breath on her voice. Otherwise, she was entirely proper - not a single wrinkle in her impeccable uniform, her face entirely straight and firm as she stared you down with sharp eyes. 

“Yes, Mione-” 

“No, darling. Wrong again.” 

Hermione hauled her hand back, creating another loud wet sound as she hauled her fingers out of your pussy entirely. Harry harshly craned his neck again, and it was only then that it truly occurred to him, between his dizzy head, his cement legs and his hard cock painful against his pelvis, protesting wildly against his zipper, that he could actually move closer to get a better look. With his Cloak guarding him, he would not be seen. 

He tried his best not to rush, not to make too much noise especially as he got closer, and he almost scolded himself when he nearly missed out on it - the wet smack as Hermione brought her hand down between your thighs. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have guessed that she had so boldly laid two rapid spanks right across your swollen, needy clit. Your skirt flipped up out of the way, no panties in sight, and giving her all the room in the world to do so. 

You harshly bit down on your own lip again, worrying the skin to the point where it was swollen and looked like it might even bruise, dampening down harsh cries from deep within your chest. Before Harry could worry that the tears pooling in your eyes had meant that Hermione had truly hurt you, you spread your legs wider and canted your hips more toward her, offering your body up for more. 

And then, you opened your lips again, seemingly to obey whatever implicit command she had given you with the spanks. 

“Yes, Mistress.” You choked out, putting stress on the title, as if correcting your earlier self. “Yes, I understand.” 

“Good girl.” Hermione replied, more breath this time as she used your tie to pull you into a heated kiss, and then shoved three firm fingers back into your waiting, leaking cunt. 

Harry’s head was spinning. 

He had never seen anything more beautiful and erotic in his life (not even when Fred and George had shown him and Ron those Wonder Witch magazines - no, this was much hotter and more perfect because it was so real). 

His mind was spinning with a unique kind of jealousy, something that told him that he was sure if he wanted to steal you away from Hermione because he thought he could - because he now knew all of your sexual preferences and he would use that information to play you, to do everything she was doing to you and more. He would make you the perfect horny little puppet on his painful, throbbing cock (he gave himself another squeeze through his trousers, suppressing a moan of his own). He would have you calling him ‘Sir’ and begging for his cock in no time, because you needed it - you needed to have your holes filled and you would fucking love it. 

Or if he wanted Hermione playing him like this - tugging on his hair, guiding him around by his tie like he was nothing more than a wretched dog, needing to be tamed. Wanted her using that bossy voice of hers to give him completely different kinds of orders - forcing him onto his knees to eat her cunt until she was satisfied, and - knowing her - she never would be. 

Harry’s mind flashed with an image of him on his knees before you, his head so perfectly framed by your plush thighs, with Hermione behind him, barking orders in his ear, a tight grip on his hair as she shoved him tighter into your perfect, messy, wet pussy. He decided that was it - that was exactly what he wanted. That would be the vision that haunted his dreams from now on. 

It was something that had him leaking enough precum to stain through to the outside of his pants, especially by the time your voice warbled out brokenly against Hermione’s chin, your thighs starting to shake, and Harry was sure that he would get the treat of seeing you cum on her fingers. 

He was sorely disappointed by what happened next. 

Hermione pulled back from you completely, creating another deadly wet sound as she pulled her fingers from your cunt once again - something that was almost drowned out by the pitched, disappointed whine that you let out. 

“Mione-!” You complained sharply, the nickname almost coming out as a sob from the back of your throat. 

You sat frozen on the edge of the desk, your legs spread wide as you stared Hermione down with glassy, disappointed eyes while she stepped back and grabbed a handkerchief from her bag that was sitting on a table opposite and used it to wipe off her glistening fingers. 

Harry rushed to get a better look at your cunt before you closed your legs, and Merlin - it was magnificent. Swollen and puffed from Hermione’s efforts, coated in your wetness, your clit stuck out from the hood and standing at attention, so damn needy, begging to be touched, your hole slightly gaped from where Hermione’s fingers had been. 

(Harry couldn’t help but to imagine how stretched you would be left by the thickness of his cock, how good you would look leaking with his cum…) 

“What did you expect?” Hermione said sharply, the edge of a sarcastic laugh on her voice. She was firm, not giving in to the pout that you were giving her. 

“You’ve been bratting up all day - I could have excused you flirting with Malfoy all through potions class-” She continued. 

Harry had noticed that too. He had simply thought that Malfoy would be your next conquest, not a simple flirtation to get on Hermione’s nerves. 

“If not for the fact that you didn’t finish any of your homework and you then decided to distract me from doing mine all afternoon.” 

Of course. Hermione doling out sexual punishments for not doing homework. 

Some things are just nature. 

Though, Harry knew, if there was one thing that would motivate him to do his essays - it would be the idea of getting to cum. 

“Of course you don’t get to cum, you stupid whore.” Hermione said these words how she said many things - as a final, finite declaration that was law. 

Hearing her speak such filthy words in such an authoritative (and nearly emotionless) voice almost caused Harry to cum in his pants on the spot. Almost. 

You let out a sigh of defeat and finally closed your legs, hopping off the desk and pulling down your skirt. Obviously, you hadn’t been wearing panties at all that day (which was another thought that would haunt Harry’s wet dreams) because you made no move to find a pair and put them back on. Instead, you simply turned around and gathered some of your books that were farther back on the desk. 

“How long?” You asked Hermione tentatively, glancing over your shoulder at her. 

Perhaps meaning - how long would she be angry with you? How long until she would finally allow you to cum? 

Harry’s stomach lurched - he imagined himself finding you in the hallway and pinning you against the wall, flipping up your skirt and finding your still wet, bare cunt, teasing you with his fingers and promising to give you everything that you needed as long as you surrendered yourself to him. He would let you cum - he would make you cum so many times that you would cry and beg for him to stop. And he would leave you tired, satisfied and gaped with his cum dripping from all your pretty holes. 

Perhaps it would be rude and underhanded to go after you simply based on a void that Hermione had left in you - but Harry was still feeling a bit of a petty sting from their argument the night before. 

Hermione stepped toward you again - careful, calculated, like a predator observing its prey. She put her hands on either side of your waist, and leaned forward to whisper something in your ear that Harry barely caught. 

“For as long as I want, naughty girl.” She told you. “You’ll take what you get, and you’ll like it, you understand me?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” You sighed loyally in return. Though your face was knit with a unique displeasure - clearly, you were still aching to cum. 

“And if I think for a moment that you have been touching your little whore cunt without my permission, I will spank you until every single person in Hogwarts hears you scream my name - understood?” 

She topped this off with a sharp spank across your ass, using her free hand to hold the fabric of your skirt out of the way to make sure it was nothing but free, burning, skin on skin. You sucked in a sharp breath, and began nodding furiously. 

“Yes, Mistress.” 

“Good.” Hermione told you. “Now, off to bed.” 

You began to walk off, but you hesitantly looked back over your shoulder, as if waiting for her to follow. 

“I’ll be along in a few minutes. I have to sort out some more books for tomorrow. Since I now have so much to catch up on.” She added the last part with a bit of snark, and you rolled your eyes, turning around and walking. 

Unfortunately, you abruptly headed in Harry’s direction and his stomach tightly clenched - he moved to press himself tightly into the bookcase, praying that you wouldn’t bump into him. 

Perhaps you felt him move, or you simply felt something… off, but you paused for a moment, and stared harshly at the space where Harry was standing. His heart began to beat hard inside of his throat, and he wondered how fast he would be able to run with his cock so uncomfortably stiff inside of his pants. You kept staring, as though you were expecting something to materialise out of thin air. 

“Y/N, go.” Hermione snapped. “Go on, it’s almost curfew.” 

“Yes, Miss Prefect, I’m going.” You sighed sarcastically in return, and walked off. 

Harry had a hard time not loudly gulping in air - not realising how harshly he had been holding his breath. 

He stayed there for a few more minutes and continued to watch Hermione. 

Jarringly, she was still so much of the usual Hermione. She was still absolutely someone that he knew so well, despite the secret sex persona that she had been hiding. Still biting at the skin around her nails as she concentrated on a thought, still fussing over which books to take, and still leaving the library with more of an armful than she could comfortably carry. Still somehow forgetting that she could just use magic to lug all the books to the Gryffindor common room instead of tiring out her arms - and Harry only fitfully realised now that this was only half her arm workout, and fucking your cunt raw must have been the other half. 

The whole time he stood there, Harry had considered revealing himself to her. 

He thought about begging to be let in on what the two of you had, even if he had to do something horrible to earn it first, to be worthy in her eyes - something like licking her shoes or wanking in front of her just to be ‘even’. But he knew that she would see the spying (even if unintentional) as a violation of trust, as something too creepy to be redeemed. She would probably hex him to hell and back, make him grow boils that would break open and bleed and never properly heal for the rest of his life - just for thinking about spying on her like that. 

So Harry knew that he had to keep this whole thing a secret, keep it close to his chest. He could never, ever speak about it to anyone. 

Harry forgot all about the book he had wanted. And, instead of going back to the Gryffindor common room behind Hermione, he took his aching cock to the Prefect’s Bathroom in an attempt to clear his mind. After making himself cum not once, but three different times, he finally settled into the hot water for a nice, long soak. He thought about it, and he realised that he was properly fucked - because he would never be able to look at you or Hermione in the same way again.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, and at this current time, there is not going to be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. I might be open to writing a second part to this, but I don't have any current plans to do so and right now, it is not on my schedule. For now, if you are going to leave a comment on this fic, please leave a comment about the body of work that has been written instead of asking for more. If you want to see more Harry Potter fics that I have written, definitely check out my Harry Potter masterlist.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Dear Prudence - Remus Lupin

A/N: well, again this keeps on working so… I hope you guys like it!

Request - Anonymous asked: Could I request a one-shot with hufflepuff potter!reader x Remus where James is favored by their parents for being in Gryffindor and on the quidditch team and being a golden child, and the reader is very kind and close to James but used to being ignored. Remus woos her and James is protective when he first finds out but comes around. Also short!reader please, I love Remus being a gentle giant

Warnings: James is favored by his parents over the reader, but they are not mean or anything, and I think that's it :)

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Dear Prudence

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful and so are you

The first thing Remus noticed, were the letters.

“Hey, sunshine” Remus smiled when he spotted you as he entered the Great Hall.

“Hi moonshine” you smiled back at him.

“You know that’s not what you think it is, right?”

“Yes, it is. I am the sun and you are the moon” you insisted as he rolled his eyes a little.

“Whatever you say, love” he chuckled as the two of you reached the other three Marauders sitting at the Gryffindor table.

“Hey Jamie, I think our envelopes got mixed up” you said, walking over to your brother.

“Hey, bug” he smiled at you. “How do you know?” he asked, grabbing the envelope in front of him. “This one says my name” he said, confused as Remus sat down next to your brother.

“Yeah, this one also says James. F. Potter” you said, showing it to him. “But it feels a lot more pages than mine and it has those golden star stickers mum always puts on yours, Goldie” you smirked, mocking him and switching the letters.

“Oh, Goldie! I love that, I am calling you that from now on!” Sirius laughed.

“Shut up, Padfoot!” James said, hitting his arm as you opened the letter James had and saw your name inside.

“Yep, this one’s mine” you told him, taking out the single page.

“Would you like to sit down with us?” Remus offered, smiling brightly at you. So, of course, you couldn’t refuse.

“Why thank you, Remus, that is very kind of you” you said sitting between him and James, hitting your brother’s arm in the process.

“Hey! What did I do?” he asked, with his mouth half-full.

“That’s where you got that from?” Sirius asked, glaring at you a little as James opened his envelope and Remus caught at least four pages coming out of it. He didn’t want to obviously point that out, so he asked something different instead.

“How come both envelopes were addressed to James?” he asked, making you look up at him and you answered before James could.

“Mum writes to him so much, she made the envelopes, especially for him” you smirked, pinching his cheek and your brother quickly snapped your hand away.

“That’s not true!” he argued, with a hint of blush on his cheeks.

“Isn’t it? She writes to you at least twice a week” you mocked him. “I bet nobody else in the entire school comes close to how many letters you get” you told him.

“She writes to you too!”

“Yeah, every other week” you said, rolling your eyes and going back to your letter. “And even then she always asks about you” you said, showing it to him.

“That’s not true!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Fine! Five Galleons” James smirked proudly. You quickly went back to your letter, quickly spotting James’ name.

“Ah-ha! Here we are” you smirked back at him. “‘Make sure to take care of Jamie and give him a big kiss and hug for me’” you said, pointing the sentence at the bottom of your letter as James blushed furiously. “Aw, c’mere, Jamie, gimmie a kiss” you said, throwing your arms around his shoulders and peppering his cheek with kisses while the other three Marauders laughed.

“Ugh, get off me, you annoying bug!” he said pushing you away and making you crash into Remus, who quickly wrapped his arms around your waist so you wouldn’t fall.

“S-sorry, Rem” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as he helped you up.

“No problem, love” he smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah” you chuckled.

“Well, you two are simply the sweetest thing in the world” you heard Sirius from across the table.

“Shut up, Sirius!”

“Shut up, Padfoot!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The second thing Remus noticed, were the family dinners.

During Christmas break, it was not surprising at all that the entire group of Marauders were residing at the Potters’ house. This year, Mrs. Potter had even got each of them a stocking, which he later found out had been your request, and Remus felt happier than he had in years. Since his mum passed away, he and his father never really liked celebrating Christmas anymore, so the feeling of this home made him warm inside and he loved it. And he especially loved spending more time with you, even if you were locked in your room most of the time.

“James, darling, where is your sister? Dinner is almost ready” he looked up from his book when Mrs. Potter came into the living room.

“Probably locked in her room” James shrugged.

“Well, could you go get her, please love?”

“Just a second, mum, I’m about to beat Padfoot” James smirked as they played Chess.

“I can go” Remus offered, marking the page on his book and getting up.

“Thank you so much, Remus. It is lovely to have actual help around here” she said, before messing James’ hair as he complained to his mother.

Remus chuckled and went upstairs to your room. He had realized this was probably the only room in your entire house he had never seen, aside from your parents’ room. He suddenly found himself feeling extremely curious to see how your room was. And why you insisted on spending so much time on it. He gently knocked on your door but he didn’t receive any response. It didn’t come as a surprise since he could hear the music blasting from the other side. He smiled when he recognized the song. It had become kind of your thing. He knew you loved muggle music and he loved introducing you to it.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long And wouldn't it be nice to live together? In the kind of world where we belong?

His smile grew wider when he heard your voice on top of the original song and he tried to knock harder but still, no response. So, he carefully opened the door. Whatever Remus had in mind about your room (which he may or may not think about more than he would like to admit) he never pictured this. Your room was as big as James’ if not a bit bigger, but you had a lot more windows and a lot more colors, by far. James’ room was decorated with Gryffindor colors and Quidditch teams he loved. But yours? Yours had paintings everywhere. Every wall. Top to bottom. Even some parts of your ceiling. How did you ever get to paint that high? He may never know. You were currently painting the side of your window with colorful flowers. Peonies. Your favorite.

You know it's gonna make it that much better When we can say goodnight and stay together

Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up In the morning when the day is new? And after having spent the day together Hold each other close the whole night through

“Um, sunshine?”

“Remus° you turned to him, smiling brightly. Remus had never seen you so beautiful. You had possibly every single color in your pallet all over your face, your clothes, and your hands. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you” you said, walking over to your record player and making the song stop.

“Yeah, I figured as much” he chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I get really bored of my walls every now and then, and I start all over again” you explained. “I was in a very flowery mood” you said, pointing at your latest painting.

“That’s beautiful” he told you. “Did you paint all of the rooms in your house?”

“Yes, except Jamie’s” you explained. “He said I’m just going to ruin his Quidditch posters” you said, rolling your eyes. “But I did the guest rooms” you said, smiling. “Yours was inspired by ‘The Little Prince’” you informed him.

“I could tell” he smiled. “My favorite book when I was a kid” he added.

“I remember you telling me that” you smiled back.

“Do you know that program on our last year for magical paintings? You should really apply for next year” he suggested.

“You really think so?” you smiled and he nodded. “I have… actually been thinking about it” you informed him.

“You should” he smiled.

“I might” you smirked.

“Um, your mum says dinner’s almost ready” he informed you.

“Oh, really? I must have lost track of time” you said, walking into your room to wash your hands.

“I’m glad you liked your Christmas present” he said, shyly, looking at the Beach Boys’ record that was playing not long ago.

“I love it” you said, coming back out. “Did you like yours?”

“I’m halfway done” he said, remembering the book he was just reading downstairs.

“Already?”

“I can’t put it down” he smiled as you got closer to him.

“I’m glad you liked it” you smiled, making him chuckle when he saw you still had paint on your face.

“Um, you still have some-” he said, pointing at his left cheek. “Here” he said, grabbing the towel from your hand and carefully cleaning it up.

“Thanks, moonshine” you smiled.

“Hey, Mrs. Potter said-” Sirius came bursting into your room, smirking at the scene in front of him. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, as the two of you jumped apart. You saw Remus’ cheeks blushing and you felt yours burning a little.

“N-no-”

“We were just- um- on our way” Remus quickly said, before he left the room. You nodded, grabbing one of your books, and were about to follow him, but Sirius blocked your way.

“You know, you should just tell him already, Bambi” he said. “We both know he’s too shy to make the first move, plus he thinks your brother is gonna kill him” he said.

“Mhm, or maybe, he just doesn’t feel the same way about me” you insisted. “And you promised you wouldn’t say anything!” you glared at him.

“I haven’t!” he said, offended. “And you have to be joking, right, have you really not seen the way he looks at you with his goofy smile, sunshine” he said, mocking Remus’ voice and making you punch him in his arm. “Ouch! Would you stop that?”

“It’s not my fault. You moved here and decided to become my other annoying brother, so you have to pay the consequences” you smirked before you left your room and Sirius rolled his eyes, following you.

“Why did you bring your book?” Remus asked, confused when you sat down next to him and placed your book on the table.

“Well, it kinda gets boring when the conversation turns to Quidditch” you informed him.

He frowned a little confused, but quickly understood what you meant. Throughout the entire dinner, your parents had revolved the entire conversation about James. They first asked how school was, to which all of you replied, he and the rest of the Marauders included. Followed by if you were dating someone. And then, Quidditch. Remus realized you hadn’t even spoken for about forty-five minutes. Your parents even asked Sirius, Peter, and him some questions, but not you. He turned to look at you and saw you immersed in your book. He slowly smiled and then felt a kick in his leg. He turned to glare at Sirius sitting in front of him who was smirking and nodded his head towards you.

“What’s your book about?” he asked. It took you a moment to register that someone was actually talking to you before you lifted your head and turned to look at Remus.

“Oh, um-” you smiled shyly. “It’s a romance novel, I wouldn’t want to bore you” you chuckled.

“You wouldn’t bore me, sunshine” he insisted. When you smiled brightly at him, it gave him the courage to hold your hand in his underneath the table as you started talking about the plot of the book you were reading. He absolutely loved the way your face brightened when you talked about something you liked and that you had his full attention. He could not deny it any longer, he was definitely in love with you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The third thing Remus noticed, was the birthday presents.

“Hi Rem” you smiled, opening your dorm. “What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here? You left your own birthday party” he chuckled.

“Well, you know I don’t like parties” you chuckled. “James makes a whole fuss about our birthdays but it’s mostly for him” you insisted. “I bet nobody even noticed I left” you said.

“I did” he said, making your cheeks burn a little.

“Um… would you like to come in?” you asked, opening the door. “I’m watching an old movie that Alice lent me” you smiled. “I got pastries from the Kitchens” you said, making him smile.

“How could I say no to that?” he asked, following you inside. “I also wanted to give you your present” he said, making you look back at him.

“You got me a present? Remus, you didn’t have to get me anything” you smiled.

“Yes, I did. It’s your birthday” he said, as if it was obvious. “I’m sure you got so many presents already, but one more couldn’t hurt” he said, shyly.

“Not much” you shrugged. “Jamie gave me my badger slippers” you said, showing them to him. “And I gave him lion ones” you giggled. “Sirius gave me chocolate, oh, Alice gave me new paints” you said, pointing at them excitedly. “And Lily gave me a new perfume” you smiled.

“Oh” he frowned, confused. “What about your parents?”

“Oh, my dad sent me this book” you said, showing him a familiar book, he knew you had already talked with him about. “I mentioned to him it was my favorite so he got me one” you explained. “I don’t really have it in my heart to tell him I already have it” you chuckled.

“And your mom?” he asked, extremely confused. He counted at least twenty presents for James from your parents.

“My mum usually gives me some of her jewelry she knows I love, but she doesn’t like to send it through mail so she gives it to me when I come home for the summer” you explained.

“Oh… is… that it?” he asked, without really thinking.

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

“Nothing. Sorry, I didn’t mean anything I just- um- I don’t want to cross a line or anything it’s just-”

“Let me guess, Jamie got about thirty presents from my parents” you smiled sadly.

“Yeah” he said, awkwardly. “Look, you know I love your parents. They are some of the kindest people I’ve met, and I know I don’t have any siblings but… I just don’t think it’s fair that they favor James over you” he said, sadly.

“Look, it’s fine. I know my parents love me” you smiled. “Just… probably not as much as James” you chuckled. “I’ve actually learned it’s not the worst thing. I get zero pressure from them. Last year, I was really worried because I didn’t do well on one of my Herbology tests-”

“Because everything you touch dies?” Remus smirked, earning a glare from you.

“As I was saying… I was going to tell them when we came home for the Holidays, but they were so upset that James had lost the last Quidditch match, that they didn’t even say anything to me” you shrugged. “I can literally do anything I want whenever I want and they won’t really mind. I mean, I’m pretty sure I can even date whomever I want but the day James gets a serious girlfriend, my mum may actually die” you told Remus, making him laugh a little. “It used to bother me a lot, but… they do show me that they love me in different ways” you explained. “But I think it’s really sweet you care about that” you smiled at him.

“Well, of course I do. You’re my favorite person in the world” he blurted out.

“I am?” you asked, feeling your heart flutter.

“Of course you are” he smiled.

“I think… you’re the first person in my life that has liked me more than James” you said, feeling a few tears in your eyes. “Sorry, that’s stupid-”

“It’s not” he assured you, pulling you closer and wiping away your tears. “And I really mean it” he smiled. “Happy birthday, sunshine” he said, giving you his present.

“Moonshine” you smiled, opening it. “Remus” you said, feeling your eyes welling up. “Is this-?”

“Yes” he smiled, grabbing The Beatles’ record from you and putting it on your record player. “I know this is your favorite song and it’s also mine because it reminds me of you” he said as the guitar started playing. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Really?” you asked, excitedly.

“Only because it’s your birthday” he said as you grabbed his hand and walked to the middle of your dorm.

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blueIt's beautiful, and so are you Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?

“Why does this song remind you of me?” you asked curiously.

“Well, I read that the song was written about Prudence Farrow-”

“Who is Mia Farrow’s less famous little sister? Wow, Remus-”

“No, that’s not why” he glared a little at you. “I mean she is but, that’s not why” he insisted.

“So?”

Dear Prudence, open up your eyes Dear Prudence, see the sunny skies The wind is low, the birds will sing That you are part of everything Dear Prudence, won't you open up your eyes?

“Did you apply to the art program” he asked, making you smile at him.

“You remembered that?”

“Of course, I do” he frowned. “I remember everything you tell me” he insisted.

“Well… I did” you told him. “I should be hearing about it during summer” you informed him.

“I’m sure you’ll get in, sunshine” he said, kissing your forehead.

Look around, around (round, round, round) Look around, around, around (round, round) Look around

“Well, it was written because she would rarely come out of her bungalow while she meditated. It’s kind of like you and your paintings” he smiled.

“I’m not that bad” you scoffed offended.

“Love, I had to come up three times a day every day on Christmas break so you wouldn’t forget to eat” he reminded you.

“Oh, and here I was thinking you came to get me because you missed me” you pouted.

“That too” he assured you.

Dear Prudence, let me see you smile Dear Prudence, like a little child The clouds will be a daisy chain So let me see you smile again Dear Prudence, won't you let me see you smile?

“I really love this song” you smiled. “And my birthday gift” you added. “And um-” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked away. “C-can I tell you something?” you asked, nervously.

“You can tell me anything, love” he assured you.

“O-okay, you don’t have to say anything and… if it’s weird you can just leave and not talk to me ever again, and… it’s not just because you said you liked me more than James b-but it’s been something that I have felt for a while and I just-”

“Sunshine” he said, cupping your cheek and making you stop your ramble. “I love you too” he smiled, making your entire body feel like you were on cloud nine.

“Y-you do?” you asked, still not believing him.

“I really do” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful, and so are you Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Yeah, go get settled, Moony! We’ll wait for you outside” James said as Remus walked upstairs to put his things away. After tossing everything in there really, he quickly found himself in front of your door again. James had invited him to stay over the summer and it had been two weeks without you. Two weeks too long. He smiled as the music blasted on the other side of the door, only this time, he opened it and walked in.

My, my, I tried to hold you back, But you were stronger Oh, yeah, and now it seems My only chance is giving up the fight

And how could I ever refuse? I feel like I win when I lose

Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war Waterloo, promise to love you for ever more Waterloo, couldn't escape if I wanted to Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you

Wa-Wa-Wa-Wa-Waterloo Finally facing my Waterloo

Remus smiled to himself before he walked over to you, pulling your paintbrush away from your hand and making you turn around frowning, but you quickly smiled when you saw it was him.

“Moonshine!” you smiled, throwing your arms around his shoulders and he quickly wrapped his around your waist, twirling you around and planting a big kiss on your lips.

“Hey, sunshine” he smiled when you pulled away. “I missed you” he said, giving you another peck on the lips.

“I missed you too” you smiled, pulling him closer. “How has your summer been?”

“Pretty boring, to be honest” he chuckled. “I see you kept yourself busy” he said, twirling your paintbrush in his hand. “Prongs and Padfoot said you played Quidditch with them yesterday” he chuckled.

“Yeah, they made me” you rolled your eyes.

“Have you… told your brother about us?”

“No” you pouted. “You said we would tell him together” you reminded him. “You know it’s gonna be fine, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Sirius just keeps insisting he will kill me” he laughed nervously.

“I won’t let that happen” you said, kissing his cheek. “I promise” you smiled sweetly.

“So, what are you painting?”

“Oh! I’ve been waiting to tell you” you said, excitedly. “I got into the art program!”

“You did? Love, that’s amazing! I knew you could do it!” he said, hugging you again and giving you a small kiss. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Remmy” you smiled. “You’re the first person I’ve told” you smiled.

“I am? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh, well, I actually told my parents when we got here, but James won the Quidditch Cup and there are… about ten Quidditch teams wanting to recruit him so… I don’t think they heard me or even knew what I was talking about” you said, smiling sadly. “Sirius said it sounded cool, though” you told him.

“I’m sorry, love” he said, pulling you closer.

“It’s okay. You’re the one I really wanted to tell” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again. “And, I have to finish this painting” you said, trying to get the brush from him but he put it out of his reach. “Rem!”

“I just got here, love” he pouted. “Wouldn’t you rather spend the day with your boyfriend who missed you so much?”

“Well, yes, that’s why I wanted to finish it before you got here” you insisted. “But James and Sirius kept insisting that I played Quidditch with them yesterday and I didn’t get to paint” you told him but he still placed the brush out of your reach when you tried to grab it. “Remus!”

“Well, you can continue tomorrow” he said, pulling you to him. “I have been waiting for two whole weeks to kiss my beautiful girlfriend” he said between kisses, feeling your smile against his lips.

“Okay, I can continue tomorrow” you said, as he threw the brush on your table and deepened the kiss. “I missed you so much” you said, pulling him closer.

“I missed you too, love” he smiled.

"Hey bug, have you seen Moony-? BLOODY HELL! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" James yelled coming inside your room and covering his eyes at the scene in front of him. Remus instantly jumped off you so quickly he fell to the floor as Sirius came in running behind James when they heard the yelling.

"Why are you yell-? oh bloody hell!" he smirked when he saw Remus standing up and saw that both of seemed very nervous.

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" James yelled to Remus and started running after him with his wand pointing at his neck but you stepped in between.

"Jamie, stop!"

"Get out of the way bug!" your brother’s voice was dangerously low.

"Prongs, calm down" Remus said trying not to show how nervous he really was.

"Calm down?!" James snapped. "That's MY sister!"

"Jamie, please, calm down!" you said also a little nervous.

"YOU SHUT UP!"

"Don't yell at her!" Remus snapped.

"Mate, I would shut up if I were you" Sirius told him.

"ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP!" you yelled at all of them.

“I’m going to kill you!” James yelled at Remus before he started chasing him around your room. Remus quickly ran out with James following him.

“I told you, he would find out sooner or later” Sirius smirked.

“You are of no use to me right now, SIrius!” you said, punching his arm as you followed your brother and your boyfriend. Sirius quickly walking behind you.

“James, what is going on? What’s with all the yelling?” you saw your mother and father come inside the living room where James was still chasing Remus and throwing jinxes at him.

“Stop it!” you yelled running over to your brother and grabbing his arm.

“Get off me!” he complained as Remus ran over to Sirius, hiding behind him.

“You’re being ridiculous!” you said, trying to reach for his wand but he placed it out of your reach. However, you clung yourself to him, trying your best to get it.

“What in Merlin’s name are you two kids doing?” your father asked, confused. It was rare to see the two of you fight like this nowadays.

“Let go!” he said, as your hand reached for his wand.

“You let go!” you complained.

“It’s my wand!”

“Gimmie it!”

“Alright, stop it! Both of you!” your mother’s voice was heard through the room as she pointed her wand at the two of you, separating you, and making James’ wand fly into her hand.

“He started it!”

“She started it!”

“I don’t care who started it! I want to know what’s going on and I want to know now!” your mother said, with her hands on her waist.

“Why don’t you ask your daughter how she betrayed me!” James said, glaring at you.

“Oh, please! Grow up, James! You’re being ridiculous!”

“That’s enough!” your father intervened. “Your mother asked you a question. What is wrong with the two of you?”

“She stole my best friend!” James said, pointing at you accusingly.

“What? I did no such thing!”

“And I thought I was your best friend” Sirius added, offended while Remus rolled his eyes.

“James, sweetheart what are you talking about?” your mother asked, confused.

“Well, mum, I just found your daughter, my so-called sister” he said glaring at you as you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Kissing my best friend!”

“James!”

“Excuse me?” your father said, a bit upset, throwing daggers at the two boys behind your mother.

“Fleamont, darling, calm down” she said, to her husband before turning to you. “Sweetheart, would you care to explain yourself?” your mother asked you, calmly.

“First of all, Jamie is making it a bigger deal than it is” you complained.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Were you or were you not just kissing Moony upstairs?”

“What?” your father asked again, but your mother stopped him.

“Well?” James asked, arching his eyebrow at you.

“I… was… kissing… my… boyfriend” you said, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Excuse me?” your father asked, baffled.

“Boyfriend?” James asked.

“Remus is your boyfriend?” your mother asked, excitedly.

“You can’t have a boyfriend! You’re too young!” your dad complained.

“And it can’t be my best friend!” James added.

“Hurtful, Prongs. Really hurtful” Sirius glared at him.

“Oh, hush, all of you” your mother said, rolling her eyes. “Fleamont, you and I were their age when we started dating” she reminded your father. “And James, you should be happy that your sister is with one of your best friends. Remus is a wonderful guy” she smiled at Remus who felt just a little less nervous.

“Thanks, Mrs. Potter” he said, blushing a little.

“I’m so happy for you two. Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us?” she asked you.

“Well, I didn’t really know how to because I knew James would throw a fit about it” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I did not throw a fit-”

“James, that’s enough” your mother told him. “Leave your sister alone” she scowled.

“But mum-”

“But nothing. She’s happy and so is Remus and we are all happy for them and that’s it” she insisted.

“I don’t even get a say in it?”

“No, why would you get a say in your sister’s love life?”

“At least she has a love life” Sirius laughed.

“Hey!” James complained.

“Good one, son” your dad laughed with Sirius.

“What is happening?” James asked, upset before he started going upstairs. “I do not like this one bit!” you heard before he slammed his door.

“Don’t listen to him, sweet pea” your dad said, smiling kindly at you. “We are happy for you” he admitted, kissing your head. “But Remus is not allowed in your room and you are not allowed in his, or the two of you alone in a room, understood?” he frowned.

“Yes, dad” you smiled.

“Yes, sir” Remus replied at the same time.

“Good” he smirked proudly.

“I’m so happy for you, sweetheart” your mother said, hugging you.

“Thanks, mum” you smiled.

“You too, Remus” she said, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter” he smiled before she left with your dad.

“I’d like to say that went well” Sirius smirked as you sat with Remus on the sofa and he kissed your forehead while Sirius sat on the chair.

“To be honest, that’s the best I could have asked for” Remus chuckled.

“It felt weird to have so much attention on me” you admitted as Remus kissed your cheek.

“Alright” you heard James’ voice coming down the stairs again. “I have decided that I approve this” he said in a serious tone, sitting closer to Sirius.

“You do know we don’t need your approval, right?” you said, glaring a little at him.

“But there will be no kissing in front of me” he glared at the two of you. “That’s just gross!”

“Fair enough, Prongs” Remus chuckled, kissing the side of your head.

“I just want to say that I am still hurt about your comments made earlier” Sirius said, sounding offended.

“You knew about them the entire time, didn’t you?” James glared at him.

“And I forgive you because that’s what best friends do, Prongsie” he smiled innocently.

“Fine, I forgive you too” James said, rolling his eyes as Sirius hugged him, kissing his cheek. “Get off, you goof!”

“This is going to be a long summer, isn’t it?” Remus asked you.

“Yes, I am so happy you’re here” you smiled, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Hey! What did I just say!?”

“Shut up, Jamie!”

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Songs: Wouldn't It Be Nice - The Beach Boys Dear Prudence - The Beatles Waterloo - ABBA

A/N: I hope you loves like it! :)

[itsnevercasual]

Sweet Creature

harry styles masterlist

pairing: kinda dark!harry styles x reader

summary: harry’s mother finds a girl on the side of the street one day while harry’s away. he hears about her for months, until he finally decides to see for himself. expecting her to be an undercover rat, he is surprised to find a girl more similar to a deer in headlights.

warning: kinda dark harry kinda alludes to him doing illegal, mafia type stuff but it isn’t specified. third person writing instead of second, READER DOESN’T USE HER REAL NAME!!! she will eventually just not yet.

—

harry had been hearing about some girl non-stop. by who, you may ask?

his mother.

his sweet, kind mother somehow found a girl who was living on the streets, took her in (gave her his room!), and is obsessed with her.

“oh, harry, she’s just the sweetest! gemma says she’s like a kicked puppy, but she’s just so sweet. this morning, i woke up, and she’d cleaned the whole house! and i asked her why, because i obviously didn’t tell her to, and she said she figured she should. you’d love her. proper sweetheart.”

and honestly, it was sweet. he probably would like her if he wasn’t the way he is. because the way he is, he thinks it’s a trap. he thinks she was never really living on the streets, and it’s a ploy. someone found his family and is trying to ruin it.

but, of course, he’d never let his mother know of the way he actually is and thinks, or what he does for a living.

“she sounds lovely, mum. what did you say her name was?”

“she says it’s belle. she’s always singing some french song. i think she lived in france before she got here.. i’m not sure. she isn’t very talkative.”

“she got an accent?”

“a little bit of everything, hazza. when will you come visit? i think you have to be the one to tell her that your room is hers now. she keeps saying ‘harry’s room’ and ‘your son’s room’. i feel horrible!”

“she’s probably just weary mum. if she was on the streets before, she probably just doesn’t want to jinx it.”

“you’re right.. gosh, she won’t even let gemma and i buy her things. she just borrows gemma’s clothes and apologizes a bunch for it. i’m not sure what to do.”

“i’ll come visit soon.”

—

and he did. a surprise visit in the middle of the night, because he was convinced he’s find this belle girl doing shady things .

except when he snuck in the front door, the house was quiet.

alright, he supposes, she’s stealthy.

so he goes upstairs and quietly opens his bedroom door.

and that’s when it’s a little louder. a girl is twisted and turning and mumbling in her sleep on his bed.

all she is saying, from what he can hear, is no. no, no, no, no, no. please, no.

and he feels a little bad, so he walks over to tap her. when that doesn’t work, he shakes her.

her eyes snap open and she has probably the worst reaction possible in this situation.

she fucking screams. like a goddamn banshee.

and sure, it lasts for maybe five seconds, probably four, but she definitely woke his mother up. and it’s so loud, he backs up to the doorway.

gemma was probably still passed out. she would sleep through the world ending.

“hey! it’s just me, calm down!”

she squinted at him through the darkness before yanking the chain on the lamp, turning it on.

he could hear her practically hyperventilating from the doorway.

she let out a sigh of relief when she recognized him from the photos in the living room.

“you really are jumpy, huh?”

“i woke up to a random man hovering over me,” she deadpans.

he almost laughs.

“it’s my room.”

and it’s like a fucking switch. her breaths are staggered and labored, but she still rushes out a whole ass monologue. kicked puppy, indeed.

“oh, my god. i am so sorry. i forgot. i can— i can take the couch— you probably want to sleep in your bed. i’m sorry, anne didn’t say you were coming by or else i would’ve cleaned up—“

the room is spotless, probably cleaner than when he stays in it, but harry doesn’t say that.

“i’ll just.. grab my blanket and stuff and go to the couch. i’m so sorry, i didn’t know—“

“relax,” he finally says. “i knew you’d be in here. i was just.. grabbing a pillow. didn’t realize mum was serious about you being jumpy.”

“oh.. uh.. are you sure? i can take the couch—“

“belle— belle, right?” she nods. “go back to bed. i have slept on plenty of couches. i will survive.”

“i feel bad.”

“well, don’t.”

he should feel bad. she is very clearly not dangerous unless she is a phenomenal actress.

“you’re not mad, are you? because i can sleep on the couch—“

“jesus, are y’gonna cry?”

“i can’t help it! i’m sorry!—“

“what on earth is going on— harry! what did you do!” anne asked as she rushed through the doorway, moving to sit next to belle.

“i didn’t do anything!” he defends.

“he didn’t do anything, anne,” she repeats. “just.. frightened me, is all.”

anne gives her a look before pulling her into a hug, and she just flips another switch and instead of watering eyes, she sobs.

who the hell is her acting coach? maybe he could take a few lessons.

“h, go get her a cuppa.. and there’s those baby yogurt melts in the cupboard.”

he doesn’t comment on the fact that belle is at the very least 19, and probably shouldn’t be eating baby food.

—

the next morning, belle made her way downstairs quietly. she was surprised to see harry making a cup of tea this early, but she didn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb his peace.

she adjusted her earbuds in her ear (anne offered to buy her better ones, airpods or something, but she was fine with her earbuds, even if the wire was a pain in the ass), so they didn’t fall out as she walked.

once she made it into the kitchen, she walked into the pantry, grabbing some random granola bar.

when she turned, she jumped. harry was right behind her. well, in front of her now.

“sorry,” she mumbled, moving out of his way.

he muttered something she didn’t understand.

“um.. sorry about.. last night. i’m kind of jumpy.”

“i noticed.”

he was very short. he didn’t seem to like her much.

“you can.. uh.. take your.. room back.. if you want.”

“it’s yours. i’m fine.”

“are you—“

“i’m sure.”

rude. why was he so rude? what had she done to him? well, besides scream at him, but in her defense, he was just hovering over her! that’s weird!

—

harry still didn’t trust her after a week of being there. she kept to herself for the most part, although he was pretty sure he heard her and gemma giggling in the middle of the night.

he just couldn’t figure out who sent her. why she was here.

his mother explained her freakout when he showed up eventually.

“you gotta be careful with her, h. she’s like.. a bunny, in a way. if you aren’t careful in how you approach her and speak to her, she bolts. first day she was here, i asked her what happened, because she had this horrible cut on her cheek. locked herself in your room for a week. i think whatever put her on the streets is a sensitive topic, and was difficult for her.”

“i jus’ dunno if i trust her, mum.”

“well, i do. she’s sweet, she just needs to warm up to you. she warmed up to me and gemma after about a week or two.. and she’s been more jumpy when gem brings michael around. so.. she might just need a minute.”

“the whole thing just seems.. shady.”

“she’ll tell us when she’s ready. and until then, you’ll make her feel welcomed. speaking of, i’m gonna go wash her clothes. poor girl won’t let us buy her anything. she just has these same clothes she had and a few things gemma convinced her to use.”

—

a/n: little thing i wrote on a plane, part 2 soon-ish maybe

[grapejuicestyless]

People Pleaser

Harry Styles x fem! bandmate reader

summery: Y/n gives too much and Harry is the only one to give back.

Angst(kinda) to fluff!

If you were to ask the public, ‘Who embodies love on tour?’ The majority, if not everybody would be quick to conclude it was Harry. He was the front man, it was his tour. A man who grows flowers with his voice and encourages affection between even the most different strangers.

If you asked the people involved, they would say Y/n Y/l/n.

Y/n is a woman with so much empathy she walked in others shoes more than her own. She spends her free time devoted to helping her friends and family. Constantly doting on them despite how grave the situation seemed.

So yeah, if you were to define HSLOT, it would be Y/n, Y/l/n. The pianist who sat quietly in the back of the stage, tucked away behind Sarah and Pauli, quiet as a mouse.

——————————————————————————

The sun was high, burning into the black chevron of the HSLOT Wembley stage floor. The white and black paint radiating vastly different temperatures in the June heat. The backtracks boomed through the stadium, muffling the farther backstage you got. Humidity suffocated everything in a sticky wetness.

Harry was dancing in a black bunny shirt, sleeves rolled to his shoulders and shorts shorter than my own. Today the sun was more brutal than ever and the effects were obvious. Skin was redder than before and water bottles could be found empty and scattered beneath the instruments. The HSLOT band was huddling under the small amount of shade they could find over the small overhang mounted on the stage. Lucky for me, because of how tucked away my space was, I had full access to the cool shade and the slight breeze of the AC blasting through the backstage area. Mitch, however, due to his front and center stationing, was falling victim to the peak heat of the day.

Harry hummed into the microphone, lazily speaking numbers out of order to get a laugh out of anyone, though the heat seemed to be getting to him too as he seemed out of his usual pre-show element. The only thing there seemed to be more abundance of than Harry’s pitiful jokes, was the sweat drenching each and every one of us.

“Y/n/n?” A soft voice called from just in front of me.

Mitch stood just in front of Pauli who was stuck half in the sun and half in the shade, his body squished into the darkness. His hair was matted with wet and held up tightly in a man bun, his shirt drenched in sweat more so than the rest of us.

“Eh, Im sorry to ask but would you mind if we could just switch positions for just a bit? I’m overheating over there and need a small break.” He pleaded.

Ever the people pleaser, the urge to stay in the shade was pushed down and away as my body moved quicker than my mind. I was eager to make Mitch happy, loving the satisfaction helping a friend out gave me.

He traded me a small hand held fan for my perfect shady spot. Though the plastic wings barely moved and the air barely soothed the heat, the thought was nice enough of him to suggest.

So I stood in the sun, the rays casting down on me like a blanket that could only be described as hell on earth. Sweat collected more aggressively on my forehead but the quick look over to Mitch, who had a lazy smile on his face from the shade and the inconsistent AC gusts made it a whole lot more worth it.

By now we were on Satellite, Harry mumbling the song, waltzing over to Elin to make sure she was still feeling okay. It was moments like this that I believed we were soulmates. Bonded together by the environment that seemed to tug us together like some sort of gravity. His straightforward kindness and appreciation one of his best qualities that I loved.

I let myself marinate in my own wetness, my legs heavy from the heat and my cheeks growing sore from the sun. My eyes grew heavy and the fan grew weaker and weaker. Truthfully, I was struggling.

“Y/n..?” I heard a small yell from Sarah, who I was sure was boiling surrounded by all that plastic and metal, despite the shade. She was still blocked off from the AC air, so the heat might as well have been just as bad.

I nodded to her, making my way over cautiously, the floor slippery with the dew from the humidity and the sweat dripping off our noses.

“What’s up, babe?” I smiled, leaning against the edge of the platform her drums were set on.

“I’m struggling a bit here. I’m a little trapped.” I raised an eyebrow, ready to take a seat to listen to what she had to say. I wondered if it was about the baby or if it was a mental block. I was ready to be a good friend when she needed it.

“Do you think I could borrow that fan? Just for a second? It’s like a hotbox in here.” My eyes drifted to the soft vibrations rumbling through my palm, the soft buzzing sound from the hand held fan spinning softly in all its neon green glory.

Forming my lips into a thin line, I nodded, plastering on a smile and reaching up to hand it to Sarah.

She was thankful for my generosity, flashing me a smile and holding up a weak thumbs up. I reflected her gesture, hunching my shoulders as I spun to return back to the spot I’d taken in the sun.

Just now, I began to realize how much I took that tan for granted. Even the soft wind was able to move the still air that casted over the UK today.

My heavy feet turned into cinder blocks and my eyes became unbearably heavy. I seemed sway on my feet a little, every blink becoming stickier as my eyelashes bunched together more and more. It felt like hours going by. Realistically it had only been five minutes, but everything moved in slow motion now.

I think Harry was singing Matilda now, but it seemed to be silenced by the clogging of my ears. I felt faint suddenly, my body too heavy to hold up. I felt myself stumble. It was usually now I would focus all my attention in on his beautiful melody, but my ears seemed to reject any sound whatsoever other than shouts and belly laughter across the stage.

“Hey Y/n!” I heard loud and clear, the bubbly voice belonging to none other than my best friend. The man who I’d been stuck with since his very first show and the person in my mind that hung the stars and moon single handedly in my life. The closest thing I had to a home on tour, Harry.

I’m not sure if I was able to lift my lips into a smile or not, everything blurring together in a mushy mess. It was like I was on psychedelics while being totally sober.

Trying to remain polite, I tried to be more welcoming to him, reaching up to wave only to find myself stumbling back into the elevated stage platforms, hands slamming into the wood so hard the corners caused red lines to form, blood peaking in blots on my skin.

“Y/n!” He sounded more frantic now, not as light and airy like before. The sound of a microphone falling to the ground was ear piercing, if I could cover my ears I would. His feet sounded heavy, the sound echoing through the empty area like bricks. My elbows collapsed under the pressure of my body and my knees buckled.

I waited for the ground to come, braced for it even. Ready to bruise my face and bleed from the nose. But it never came. Instead I was wrapped in a wet body, my face smushing against a hard chest.

“Shit, can I get some medical help?” Harry. Harry had caught me. How quick he was to rush in to help.

I couldn’t quite make out his face with how jumbled up my brain was from the heatstroke I was almost sure my body was going through right now, all I saw was black dots and blurry pink lips moving quickly. I think he mumbled, “You’re okay, it’s fine.” But maybe that was an illusion I made up for some sort of comfort.

We met eyes, a worried shock painted on Harry’s face before I was met with the soothing darkness of sleep.

——————————————————————————

I woke up to a cooler climate. A buzzing sounding through the vent on the ceiling. Tassels of pink and yellow blowing in the wind. I had an ice pack taped to my forehead and one wrapped around my stomach with velcro.

My head was pounding with one of the worst headaches I’d ever dealt with in my entire life and my eyes were aggressively watering despite my excessive wiping.

I tried to sit up, but could only groan with how sore I was, my hand pressing against the ice pack quickly.

“Y/n, oh thank god.” I felt the couch dip by my head, Harry’s body kneeling on the ground in front of my face and his head hovering over mine as he hunched over me. The carpet ruffled beneath his knees as he settled into place. His breathing was slightly jagged, a little quick. Maybe in his panic it had picked up. Compared to mine, which was slow and steady. A good long sleep will do that to you.

“Did I faint?” My mouth was dry, so everything that came out of my mouth was strained and rough. Sandpaper scratching my vocal cords.

The question was obvious, I knew I had gone down before I even fell. I knew I was going down as soon as I handed away the shady spot and the fan. Maybe not directly, but that small tugging feeling that fought briefly with my body knew. I couldn’t help but let the smallest smirk grace my lips, trying to be funny and light hearted in a time of need.

“Gave everyone a proper scare, really did. Went down pretty fast.” He lifted an arm from his sides to gently move the ice pack from my forehead, sensing the slight discomfort it was giving me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. We watched each other quietly in the quiet of the communal dressing room.

His smile was infectious, always was. Harry had that kind of bunny tooth smile that made my stomach do secret summersaults and flutter occasionally. Despite the strict platonic relationship we’d established, it was hard to not fall for the other half who understood the urge to put others before myself just as well.

Lost in the dreamy thought of him, I snapped back to see the white smile slowly wipe off his face, eyebrows pulling together in worry and his gaze becoming less lighthearted and more serious.

“Was it dramatic? Could I win an Oscar for it?” I joked, lightening up the mood, or attempting to.

“Yes, and yes. Would’ve swept them, I think.” We laughed weakly, not finding the situation funny but the inability to stay so serious for so long amusing.

“We shouldn’t have had soundcheck outside. I knew it was too hot out, I’m sorry.” The warm bareness of his fingers engulfed mine gently, his thumb brushing my knuckles so light it almost barely ghosted over my skin.

“It’s not your fault, I made a couple bad choices that got me there.”

“Such a pushover.” I snorted, removing my hand from his in fake offense to his comment, though it was both true and not in any sense mean or bad intentioned.

“And to think, I had the perfect AC spot in the shade too!” We continued to joke, not finding anything about this at all serious. We probably seemed fucked in the head to the outside perspective. Who treats heat stroke like it meant nothing?

“I need to learn how to say no.” Harry silently agreed, eyes flicking up to mine slowly, almost like he was tracing my body in an outline in his head. Saving a mental photo of his best friend covered in sweat, melted ice and plastic icepacks.

“You do.” I smiled.

“I know.” He raised a brow.

“You do. Can’t have that happening. Scared me.” His sudden confession lacked any previous lightheartedness that we’d bounced off of each other just moments before.

I grabbed his hand again, now my thumb was the one to merely ghost over his skin smoothly.

“I know, I’m sorry. Don’t wanna worry you.” It was the most sincere thing I’d said all day. The only thing I’d truly meant really. All those “My pleasures” and, “Of courses” only being half hearted and made based solely on the idea that someone else could benefit from it more than I would.

“I love you.” Silence hugged the room around his confession. Not that we hadn’t exchanged the sentence consistently. Throwing it around so much it was a habit to tell each other before we left any room or made a joke so good it deserved the praise. But somehow, the words sat different than before. They held more seriousness and more honesty than the other times, and I couldn’t help the giddiness it gave me.

“I love you too.” Maybe if the situation wasn’t so dramatic and the heat wasn’t getting to both of us incredibly bad, maybe then it wouldn’t have happened. Some sort of forced confession out of the blue.

He showed no signs of having any interests in me. Other than the constant presence he seemed to enjoy having in my life and the fact that nobody knew me like him, he could have fooled me completely.

“Yeah?” He laughed through his teeth, breathy and light.

I nodded slowly, sure of myself but shy on the idea he could be playing with me. He would walk me to the door of hope and send me home crying. Maybe it was the feeling of giving so much and never getting anything back. Maybe it was the all too familiar feeling of being used because of the overflowing empathy I was dealt at birth and the nagging persistence in my mind ordering me to please the people around me that was responsible for the twinge of doubt I held to him. But his eyes held kindness and full trust, I couldn’t help but feel that fluttery feeling.

It could have been from the heat, but most likely from him rushing the blood from my heart straight to my cheeks.

“I hope you mean it in the way I think you mean it, because if this is the heat stroke playing with my feelings, I’m about to look really stupid.” My arms outstretched around his neck, pulling him to my lips. My fingers tangling between his puffy curls and damp with the sweat beaded on the back of his tanned neck.

His kiss was just as sweet as I expected it. It wasn’t an intricate make out with a long battle between our tongues. It was needy, but not in a rushed way. It was short, but did more than any sloppy kiss could possibly say.

“Is now a good time to say I only see you as a friend?” I couldn’t help but silently laugh at that. My chest moving up and down while my mouth was pulled into a large smile that broke out on my face.

Harry was still so close, yet to pull back completely as his breath fanned my nose and his forehead almost touched mine.

“Now that I’ve wooed you, does this mean you’ll let me play tonight?” His lips silenced mine, pressing hard and smooth against each other. He pulled away with a wet release.

“No.” For the millionth time, we laughed. We laughed, feeling happy. Content that I was okay, that this was okay. That we were whatever we were. Maybe we had crossed the line between strictly platonic. Maybe we were towing the line between lovers and best friends. But it didn’t matter because whatever we had was warmer than the June heat and bigger than any crowd Wembley could pull in our hearts.

It was all some sappy story of the girl who gave too much and the only man who gave back, very on brand for the HSLOT crew.

Maybe heat strokes could be good.

Read part 2 here!

[iamnmbr3]

What's you take on the whole wand situation?

It never ceases to amaze me how well Draco's wand worked for Harry when he had trouble with Hermione's wand and they've known each other for years.

Not only did the wand work, he also defeated Voldemort with each I find so funny for some reason.

And we need to remember that his wand was made of unicorn hair, which makes it extremely loyal to its owner so how the heck did it work well enough to defeat one of the greatest wizards of all time?

J.K.R can claim that Harry disarmed Draco all she wants, I call bullshit. To me it feels they share a deep connection which is why it worked

I KNOW!! It is insane that JKR, Queen of the Anti-Drarry Squad, wrote this in canon. So fitting that she should be cursed to accidentally canonize queer ships she hates lol.

The bit about Hermione's wand is super interesting for several reasons. Harry never wins the wand from her, but because they are very close and compatible and because she loves Harry and wants the wand to work for him, it does. Not perfectly. But way better than the Blackthorn Wand, which he didn't win AND which came from a stranger who had no compatibility with him and felt no allegiance or emotional connection to him. So we see that the compatibility of the wand's owner with someone and, crucially, the emotional bond they have with you, also influences how their wand responds to you.

This has huge implications when it comes to Draco's wand. Draco's wand is made of unicorn hair, which, as you correctly point out is known for its loyalty and affinity for its original master. This is not a fickle wandcore that is easy to just win in a quick duel. Not only that, but hawthorn wands are particularly tricky to master.

Plus, if wands could switch allegiance too easily then it would've come up earlier. If just disarming someone is usually enough to do it then any class where such things are practiced would have huge repercussions. Not to mentions fights between enemies. It would be a huge problem for Death Eaters or Aurors. Snape would've lost mastery pf his wand to the Marauders pretty early on in his school career. (Harry also would've lost mastery of HIS wand to Snape in the end of book 6.) This would make wizards extremely cautious about dueling each other. Thus, the character and desires of the wizards and of the wands and the specific circumstances must play a much bigger role. Some wands must be more loyal than others too. For example I can imagine the Elder Wand being relatively fickle. Or the kind of wand that would choose Peter for example. But a unicorn hair wand?

Furthermore, Harry doesn't even really fight Draco. He pulls the wand right out of Draco's hand. And Draco...lets him. He has fast reflexes. He's a Seeker who is nearly equal to Harry in ability. And we see how quick he is at spells and how well he holds his own against Harry during their duel in book 6. Yes Harry - who is a deadly dueler - beats him in the end, but they go several rounds. Draco, in fact, holds his own against Harry for longer than anyone except for Snape. Much longer than Voldemort ever does for example. So if Draco had wanted to get off a spell to blast Harry away from him when Harry was totally unarmed and literally just trying to pull the wand out of his hand - he could have. But he doesn't. He lets Harry take the wand.

And the wand's loyalty transfers seamlessly to Harry. Not only does it work for him. It works PERFECTLY. It feels "friendly" in his hand. In a way even Hermione's didn't. He is deeply compatible with the wand and the wand obviously is actively friendly to him. This clearly reflects Harry's fundamental core compatibility with Draco (they're soulmates your honor!) and also Draco's true loyalty and affection towards Harry.

The Hawthorn Wand isn't betraying its former master. It's honoring his wishes by protecting the man he loves.