#first post | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alohajix · 3 days ago

Text

No Strings… Right?

Description: it was supposed to be one night-just sex, no feelings, no consequences. But the second Harry touched me, I knew I was lying. He's my brother's best friend. Off-limits.

Dangerous. But he fucks me like he owns me, whispers things I'm not supposed to hear, and looks at me like I'm already his.

We said no strings. But we're tangled in every way that matters.

Warnings: (+18) explicit sex, unprotected sex, brother's best friend, possessiveness, praise, jealousy, choking, roughness, creampie, soft dom!Harry, emotional tension, and getting very caught.

Words: TBD.

Here's part four! The moment of truth

Hope you enjoy it lovelies 💕

***

Part Four – "You're Fucking Harry?"

Description: what happens when you finally stop hiding? When the love feels too good, too dangerous—and the door flies open at the worst possible moment?

We thought we had more time. We didn’t. Now it’s all out, and I’m scared to lose everything. But he’s still here. And he’s not done loving me.

Warnings: 18+ only — explicit sex, caught mid-act, possessive!harry, wall sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, tension with family, angst, guilt, and choosing love even when it’s messy.

Word count: 5,850

***

[Y/N]

His hand moved slowly over my thigh, fingers slipping beneath the sheet like he already knew there was nothing else between us. His body was warm against mine, skin to skin, breath still lazy from sleep, but his eyes already had that look—dark, teasing, hungry.

“You’re not leaving this bed,” he murmured, pressing a kiss behind my ear, lips trailing down the side of my neck.

“Didn’t plan on it,” I whispered, shifting closer.

He grinned, sliding his leg between mine, one hand settling on my hip as he pulled me tighter. “Good.”

The light was soft through the blinds, sheets tangled, the air thick with leftover heat from last night. My fingers tangled in his curls as he leaned in, kissing me slow, deep, smiling into it when I sighed against his mouth.

“Round two?” he asked, voice low, playful, already moving over me.

I laughed, breath catching as he pressed me into the mattress, his weight perfect, his hands confident. “Didn’t we already do three?”

He shrugged, mouth brushing down my collarbone. “You make me lose count.”

His hand slipped between my legs, teasing, sliding easily through the heat he’d already left there hours ago. I gasped, arching into him, and he groaned, shifting so the length of him pressed against my thigh.

“Still sore?” he asked, eyes flicking up to mine.

“A little.”

He pushed my leg higher, fitting himself between, voice rough. “I’ll be gentle.” But he wasn’t.

He filled me with one slow thrust, both of us groaning, bodies falling into rhythm like we hadn’t stopped. His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he moved, not rushing, not careful—just him. My nails dug into his back, breath hot between us as he kissed me, deep and messy, breaking only to whisper, “You feel so good like this.”

I couldn’t speak, just held onto him, pulling him closer, needing more, needing all of it. The bed creaked softly beneath us, the room too warm, his skin everywhere. He shifted, hitting deeper, his breath stuttering as he groaned into my neck, fingers tightening on my waist.

“Can’t get enough of you.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Never.”

It built fast, but not frantic. Just constant. Steady. His mouth on my shoulder, my legs wrapped tight around him, bodies slick and moving until I couldn’t hold it anymore. I came with his name on my lips, shaking, clinging to him, and he didn’t let go—kept moving, kept whispering, until he fell with me, hips pressing deep, breath broken against my skin.

We didn’t stop.

The door flew open so fast it slammed against the wall.

“What the—”

We didn’t have time to move. Harry’s body stiffened above me, breath caught in his throat, his hands gripping my hips in that one frozen second before everything shattered. My head snapped toward the door, heart stopping cold, and there he was—my brother, standing in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth open, every muscle in his body pulled tight like he couldn’t even process what he was seeing.

“You’re fucking Harry?”

The words hit like a slap. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

I shoved at Harry’s chest, scrambling for the sheets, the pillows, anything to cover the bare skin that suddenly felt like fire. My pulse was in my throat, hands shaking as I grabbed the blanket and yanked it over me, heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else.

“Get out!” I gasped, voice sharp, cracking under the weight of panic.

Harry stumbled back, still tangled in the sheets, eyes wild, jaw slack like he’d been struck. He was still inside me, still caught in the wreck of that perfect, reckless moment we thought we could keep to ourselves. His hands flew to his waist, dragging the sheet down, pulling out, cursing under his breath as he tripped trying to stand.

“Shit—fuck—just give me a second—”

My brother’s face turned red, eyes darting between us like he was trying to erase it from his mind.

“Are you fucking serious?!” His voice was loud, too loud. “Harry? You? Of all people?!”

“Please—” I tried to say something, anything, but he was already backing out, hands in the air like we’d burned him.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “This is so fucked.” Then the door slammed shut, and the silence that followed was deafening.

The room stayed still for too long. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, head low, the sheet draped carelessly around his waist. His shoulders were tense, jaw clenched. I pulled his shirt from the floor, slipping it over my head, my hands fumbling with the fabric. The air was thick, every breath shallow, the quiet pressing in harder than anything either of us could say.

“This isn’t funny,” I said. He looked up, blinking like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right.

“I didn’t say it was,” he replied, voice low.

“You were going to.”

“No.” He stood, dragging the sheet with him as he moved. “I wasn’t.”

I bent to grab my shorts, pulling them on in a rush, needing to feel covered, needing to feel like I could control something.

“He’s going to hate me.”

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know him,” Harry said, stepping closer. “You’re his sister.”

“And you’re his best friend.” That landed hard. He looked away.

I sat down, trying to catch my breath, fingers tugging at the hem of the shirt. He stood there, just watching me, sheet slipping, his hands opening like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen like this,” he said.

“Yeah. Well, it did.”

He stood by the counter, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes locked on the floor like if he didn’t look at us, none of it would be real. The coffee cup next to him hadn’t moved, steam long gone, forgotten. Harry hovered behind me, his presence close but not quite enough. I stepped into the room, the silence thick around us.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

My brother didn’t move. “You’re already talking.”

Harry’s voice was quiet, measured. “It’s not what you think.”

That got a reaction—a small, sharp laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “No? Because it looked pretty clear from where I was standing.”

I glanced at Harry, then back at him. “Please. Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” he asked, voice low. “Be mad that my best friend’s been fucking my sister behind my back?”

Harry’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t flinch. “We didn’t sneak around like that.”

“You lied,” my brother snapped, stepping forward, closing the gap. “Both of you. You knew exactly how I’d feel, and you still did it.”

I kept my voice steady. “We didn’t plan this. It just happened.”

“Yeah? Well, it still happened.” His eyes flicked to Harry. “And he was supposed to know better.”

Harry took a breath, stepping closer, but not too close. “I love her.”

The words hung there, heavy.

“Don’t.” My brother’s voice dropped, harder. “Don’t throw that word around like it fixes this.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should.”

“I trusted you,” he said, quieter now, but the edge in his voice cut deeper. “I trusted you not to do this.”

Harry didn’t move, didn’t break. “I didn’t lie to her. I didn’t use her. This isn’t a fucking joke.”

“Then what is it?” He looked at me, eyes searching for something I couldn’t give him. “What the hell is this?”

I opened my mouth, but Harry spoke first. “It’s real.”

My brother stepped back, shaking his head. “I need space.”

He didn’t slam the door this time. He just walked out, leaving the room colder.

Harry’s eyes were still on me. “I’m sorry.” I nodded, but didn’t answer.

***

HARRY

The house was still. Too still. She hadn’t moved since he walked out, and I didn’t know what to say to her. I wanted to reach for her, to hold her, to tell her none of this would ruin us—but I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. My hands felt useless, my mouth dry, like anything I said now would only make it worse. She didn’t look at me, and I didn’t blame her.

I stepped out, the door clicking softly behind me, and sat down on the front steps, elbows on my knees, head down. The air was cooler than before, the sun slipping lower, shadows stretching long across the pavement. I dragged a hand through my hair, palms rough against my face, and tried to breathe past the ache in my chest.

I never meant for this to happen like that. Not this way. Not with him walking in, with her looking at me like she didn’t know what came next. I never wanted to be the thing that broke them. I just wanted her. I just wanted to love her and not feel like I was stealing something that wasn’t mine to take. But I couldn’t undo it now. She trusted me. And maybe that’s what scared me the most—because I didn’t know if I deserved it. Not after this. Not after the way he looked at me, like I was a stranger. Like I was the worst kind of betrayal.

If she asked me to let go, I would. I’d leave. I’d walk away. Because I loved her enough to want her to be whole, even if it wasn’t with me.

I stared at the street, waiting. For her. For the door. For the sound of her voice cutting through the quiet. Because if she didn’t come out, if she didn’t say anything—I wouldn’t know how to stay.

***

[Y/N]

The door creaked open behind him, and he didn’t move. His back was tense, shoulders high like he was holding in more than just breath. I stepped outside, closing the space between us quietly, the air cooler now, sharper against my skin.

He didn’t look up, but his voice was low. “I thought you’d need more time.”

I sat beside him, knees brushing his. “I don’t want space from you.”

He let out a shaky breath, finally turning. His eyes searched mine, like he was waiting for the part where I’d tell him it wasn’t enough. That this was too much.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No,” I admitted. “But I want you.”

His jaw clenched. “Even after that?”

“Especially after that.” I stood, reached for his hand, and pulled him inside without another word.

The door shut behind us, the air shifting, and suddenly he was on me—mouth on mine, hands in my hair, kissing me like he didn’t know if I’d let him again. I pushed him back, step by step, until his back hit the wall.

“Let me,” I whispered, pulling his shirt over his head, my palms flat against his chest, feeling every breath he took.

His hands slid under my top, fingers skating over my ribs. “I’m not sure I can go slow.”

“Then don’t.”

His mouth was on my neck before the words were gone, biting softly, sucking a mark into my skin like he needed proof that I was his. I pulled his sweatpants down, his cock already hard, heavy in my hand as I stroked him once, slow.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head falling forward. “You’re gonna kill me.”

I smiled, tugging him toward the couch, but he grabbed my hips, lifting me instead, pressing me against the nearest wall.

“You sure?” His voice was low, rough, like he’d fall apart if I changed my mind.

I wrapped my legs around him. “Please, Harry.”

He didn’t wait. One hand between us, he lined himself up, sliding into me with one long, deep thrust that knocked the breath from my lungs.

“God,” I gasped, clinging to him.

His hands gripped my thighs, holding me open, holding me still as he started to move. Each thrust slow at first, deliberate, his breath ragged in my ear.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled. “Always so wet for me.”

I moaned, nails dragging down his back. “Harder.”

He gave it to me. Driving into me with force, with focus, like he needed to fuck the fear out of both of us. The slap of skin filled the room, his name spilling from my mouth with every thrust.

“You like being fucked like this?” he panted. “Up against the wall, taking every inch?”

“Yes—Harry, yes—”

“Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

He pulled out suddenly, lowering me to the floor, spinning me to face the wall, pressing my hands flat against it.

“Keep them there,” he ordered, voice rough, body close behind. I felt him line up again, his cock sliding through my folds, teasing. “You want more?”

I nodded, breathless. “Please.”

He slammed into me hard, deeper, one hand gripping my hip, the other slipping between my legs, rubbing circles on my clit.

“Come for me, baby.” I fell fast, body shaking, moaning loud as I came, clenching around him, collapsing into his hold. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you,” he groaned, thrusts getting sloppy, desperate.

“Do it—Harry—want it—”

He came with a curse, spilling inside me, hips jerking as he held me tight, panting against my neck. He didn’t let me go. Just wrapped his arms around me, kissed my shoulder, and whispered, “Always you.”

I turned, pulling him into me, holding him just as tight. “I love you.”

***

@cloudyluun @gem1712 @dipmeinhoneyh @idk199o @harrrrystylesslut @sparxx27 @likea-silhouette @fangirl509east @starryhaze-crystal @mads3502 @run-for-the-hills @twinklaei @belgianblondee @pbandnutella @maudie-duan @cat-loves-music @harrystyleshotwife @angeldavis777 @matildasatellite