Chapter Text
It’s a Tuesday evening and Lavender is at Harry Potter’s house.
They’re in his living room, watching television. Harry has a tanned, muscular arm swung over the back of the sofa. He’s wearing a thin, golden bracelet on his wrist. Lavender wonders who gave that to him, if it had been Ginny. Last she’d heard they were still together. But she hasn’t been paying a lot of attention, maybe he’s-
“You all right?” he asks, head thrown back lazily towards her.
She is and she isn’t. I don’t know why I’m here.
“Yeah.” It comes out incredulously, like she thinks he’s mad for asking. He doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe he didn’t even notice her tone. Maybe he doesn’t care about her tone. His head has already swivelled back to the TV. They’re watching something she doesn’t know the name of. It’s drawn on the screen. Lavender had never seen that before. She thought Muggles only had pictures on the TV, not drawings.
She’s folded herself into the corner of the sofa. Harry is all sprawled out before her. He’d be easy to reach for, if she wanted to. His hand is angled out towards her. The gold gleams on his beautifully bronzed skin. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think it wasn’t real.
“Do you fake tan?” It’s a stupid thing to ask, of course he bloody doesn’t, but Lavender gets chatty when she feels a little antsy. Her words stumble over each other to get out her mouth, Essex accent in tow. This is ridiculous, she thinks, why the fuck am I here?
Harry chuckles. He sits up. Lavender’s heart stops for a second, but all he does is reach for the little TV commander box on the coffee table. The TV goes silent. Harry sits back and looks at her. He’s smiling a little, looking at his arms. Flexing his muscles at her, she realises. She’s beginning to understand why she’s there, on his sofa on a Tuesday, multiple hours past her bedtime. She doesn’t know if she has the guts to believe it yet. Are he and Ginny…?
“Nah, it’s just from flying, I suppose.” He looks up at her. His eyes are so fucking green, it’s ridiculous.
“Are you eyes fake?”
Harry huffs a laugh at her. His green, green eyes have widened, and Lavender knows suddenly, she understands: this is an opportunity of a lifetime, and if she doesn’t stop being all nervous about it it’s going to slip right through her fucking fingers.
“Sorry. Sorry, that was fucking stupid. Don’t listen to me.”
“It is stupid, yeah.” He’s laughing heartily now, laughing at her, but Lavender feels in on the joke; she knows what’s going on here. This is familiar territory. She’s probably been here way more than him, in fact, if not on this specific sofa, then somewhere else. In a broom cupboard. In a shed. In Parvati’s cousin’s bed (horrible, terrible stupid stupid stupid idea).
“You and Ginny broken up, then?” He winces a little. This is good, she can use this. She can be exactly what he needs right now.
“Yeah. Like two weeks ago.” He says it sheepishly, and Lavender almost laughs. She doesn’t, of course, she just nods solemnly. Then, in an act of complete altruism, she puts her palm on his knee.
It’s August; her hands are sweaty. She feels the ridge of his kneecap through the scratchy fabric of his jeans, feels thick, corded muscle where her fingers rest on his thigh. Harry’s looking at her. His beautiful eyes are a bit lidded.
Lavender waits a beat, then softly squeezes. The room is quiet. Neither of them move. Has she miscalculated? Has she, stupidly, impossibly, misunderstood?
Harry reaches for her, grabs her by the wrist. When he pulls, she melts into him like butter. It takes only a second and then she’s on top of him, chest pressed to chest. She knows he can feel her tits on his ribcage, just as she feels his dick nestled tight in the space between her thigh and groin.
His mouth ghosts at her jaw, hot and insistent. It’s ridiculously easy to angle her face down and meet him there.
He has a soft, pliant mouth. He opens wide, licks into her; he’s hot, hot, hot, tongue slick and heavy where it meets hers. Lavender’s lost in it. He shifts under her, angles his hips just so, and she feels him better now. He’s so hard already, she feels the rigid line of him right up against her pubic bone. She grinds down on him, grabs fistful of his shirt and pulls his torso up towards her. He’s moaning a little, soft insistent sounds into her mouth. He smells good. Like pine needles and sunblock and fresh, salty sweat. She’s so far gone, she wants to lick it off him.
He’s shoving one hand down the back of her jeans as he grabs at her jaw with the other. Lavender just kisses him, lets herself be kissed. His mouth is so soft, so warm. Every swipe of his tongue sends a crisis alarm to her pussy, it feels like. She’s grinding on him, on his cock, trying to create some friction, trying to-
“Wait, wait. We should. Er.”
“Yeah. Yeah, alright.” Lavender’s breathless. Her voice is higher than she’s heard it in ages.
She sits up. Harry groans. They look at each other. He looks lost; his cheeks are pink, his mouth swollen and spit-slick. Green, green eyes round and wide, like a little bunny’s. He’s hard, still; she’s sitting down on him now and the pressure is fucking delicious.
“D’you wanna stay the night?” he asks, as if she’d ever even think of saying no. He furrows his brow, a faraway look in his eye.
“Do you think Ron would- should we-” Lavender laughs. He’s sweet, Harry Potter, trying to be good as her ass is on his dick like this. Lavender stretches, yawns. She feels languid. The heat and closeness and the slick, insistent feeling in her groin make her feel sleepy, already fucked-out, despite barely having gotten started.
“Seeing as it’s been about fifteen years and he’s actually, like, married now? I think he’ll be alright, love.” She bends down, steals a kiss. She stays for another. Harry moans again, low in his throat. His hand is in her neck, where she’s sweaty and gross. He doesn’t seem to mind.
“I haven’t- wait, wait.” Lavender sits up again. She’s nervous, suddenly; he hasn’t… what? He cannot be a virgin, that’s like, not possible at all. That would be fucking mental. Ginny Weasley would have to be tried before the Wizengamot.
“I haven’t had sex with anyone besides Ginny and I’m not taking any potions.” He tells her matter-of-factly. He’s so good, so lovely like this. Unbelievably handsome and being so earnest, telling her all his secrets like he owes her. Which he probably does. She had a fling with Cormac McLaggen once and he gave her a venereal disease and got her pregnant, all without uttering a word.
“The mechanics are the same, I think. Though I don’t know what her vagina’s like.” She giggles. He rolls his eyes. “No, but really, it’s all right. You were doing fine.” He rolls his eyes again. Lavender laughs and hides her face in the crook of his neck. His scent is strong there, it’s nice.
“And you can just,” she kisses his throat, unable to resist, “hmm,” another kiss, “pull out.”
“Yeah, okay.” He quickly agrees as he paws at her ass. He has a sensitive spot where his neck meets his shoulder. Lavender files that bit of information away for later.
Harry throws his arm around her back and sits up, pulling her with him. “C’mon.” he says. He slaps her ass as he says it.
Lavender squeals. She gets off him and lets him grab her hand and pull her in the direction of the hallway. His house is massive, and the furniture’s a little more bohemian than she’d expected of him; that’s probably Ginny’s influence. It sends a little thrill down her back, to be here in another woman’s territory. Lavender’s about to get fucked by a man that’s never been with anybody else before, in the bed he used to share with his ex. She likes it, likes that it makes her feel special.
They go up a flight of stairs, then another; Lavender’s out of breath by the time Harry shoulders open the door to his bedroom. The room itself is unassuming, a little disappointing compared to the rest of the building. The bed is shoved into the corner. It’s got blue sheets on it that have been made meticulously. She gingerly walks over and sits on the side of the bed. She crosses her legs. Looks at him. Harry isn’t specifically tall, but he’s large; muscular, athletic. When they were in Hogwarts he was a twig of a boy. It’s interesting to see what ‘growing up’ does to a body. She’s curious about what he’s hiding under his clothes.
“Are you gonna come here?”
He moves immediately, shoves her knees apart, kneels between them. He kisses her again and he’s as hot as before, fucking scorching. The kiss is frantic; Harry is thumbing at the button of her jeans, desperate to undress her.
Lavender lets him. He takes off her socks, her jeans; she leans back on her elbows and watches him. When he’s down to her knickers, he slides his large hands up her thighs and looks her in the eye intently. Slowly he bows forward and places a slow, open-mouthed kiss right where she’s burning for it. His tongue pushes forward, wets her pussy through the cotton of her underwear. Lavender moans and grabs at the sheets. They’re made so tightly that she can’t find anything to hold onto.
Harry grabs her hands, interlaces her fingers with his. He’s steady, focused; far removed from the doe-eyed boy she had under her before. He leans forward again, licks, covers her with his mouth; the feeling is sweet but too-soft, scant. Lavender moans and pushes her hips up into him. She feels Harry laugh between her thighs. He lets go of her hands, ghosts up her thighs again, grabs onto her knickers; Lavender dizzy with it, desperate for friction, for the feeling of his tongue on her, in her. When he grabs and pulls she feels the fabric of her underwear stick to the center of her vagina, wet as she is.
Harry wastes no time. Before she can register it he’s licking at her, his warm tongue parting her folds and going for her clit, where he presses flat against her and pushes, giving her all the pressure she’s been gagging for from the start. Lavender gasps and screams at the same time, her throat catches; with nothing to hold onto, she grabs onto her head. It’s no use; her hair’s braided tight against her scalp. All she can do is feel, and it’s almost ridiculous; she’s so wet for him, so ready, that she knows it’s going to take very little for him to make her come. She’s going to come on this perfectly made bed, as he’s kneeling before her with his mouth on her pussy.
Harry sucks and licks at her, hot and insistent. She’s making a mess, but he just keeps going; his tongue laps at her in a steady but unrelenting pace. Lavender has her arms over her face. It’s fucking electric. The sound of it, of him eating her out as she’s wet as ever, is loud and obscene in the room.
“Fuck, I can’t… Harry, nnhg...”
It seems to spur him on; he hoists her forward, so her ass is hanging off the bed. He has her locked tightly in his arms as he’s devouring her, her legs over his shoulders. He hums at her, taking her through it; she feels the low bass against her clit, and it’s game over.
Lavender’s whole body seizes up. The noise she makes is loud, unencumbered. She would be embarrassed, if she was able to. Harry’s still going, delivering soft licks to her center as she seizes through her orgasm. The world is far, far away; everything has been whittled down to this, to his warm mouth on her pussy, his tongue against her clit, his strong arms holding her down as she moves.
Slowly, softly, Lavender starts registering things. Harry’s mouth is gone from her center. He’s stroking her lower belly, as if she’s a spooked horse that needs calming. It’s almost ridiculous, if it wasn’t so fitting; she feels like a spooked horse, all loose in her limbs and shivery. She hasn’t felt this, ever. Not in the broom cupboard, not in the shed, certainly not in Parvati’s cousin’s bed.
“Fuck. Thanks. Sorry.” She looks at him; his eyes are soft, his smile crooked. The entire lower half of his face is covered in her. She reaches out and gently combs a hand through his hair.
“My pleasure.” He places a kiss on her hip bone, then shifts her so she’s back on the bed. Lavender pulls herself up, making space for him. She holds out her hand for him, but he doesn’t take it; instead, he pulls the sheets from under the mattress and wipes his face with them.
“Sorry.” She laughs. He’s taking his socks and his jeans off, before he climbs in bed with her. He gets under the covers. Lavender shifts so she’s under the sheets too. It’s ridiculous, way too warm to be comfortable, but it feels right. Cozy.
Lavender kisses him. It’s softer now, but he’s still eager; he pulls her close immediately, hoists her leg over his hip. Lavender hums. The tip of his cock catches against her vagina through his boxers. She gasps, the feeling of it intimate and pleasurable. She’s conflicted; wants nothing more than to suck him off, to taste him and bring him as far as she can with her mouth before she lets him fuck her, but the feeling of his dick against her like this is too good. It’s like it’s begging to be in her, and she doesn’t have the heart to resist.
They’re still kissing; Harry is trailing figures on her back with his nails. It’s nice, sweet, but Lavender needs more; she reaches down, into his boxers. Harry gasps and moans as she grabs his cock, thumbing at the head. He’s uncircumcised and fucking hard. Big, too; not ridiculously so, but sturdy enough to feel his size when he first pushes in.
“Wanna fuck you.” he murmurs soft against the side of her face. Lavender’s fully wanking him off now, moving her palm over the head. Harry grabs her hand, stilling it.
"Really wanna fuck you.” he sighs, before kissing her again. He’s pushing her onto her back, moving down her body to ruck up her T-shirt and get his mouth on her tits.
“Can I? Fuck you? Please?” he asks, finally, as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. He looks up at her, endless green, and Lavender’s gone; she’ll suck him off tomorrow morning. All she wants, needs, is for his big, uncircumcised penis to slide into her for the first time. The thought of it sends a spark to her lower belly. I can’t fucking believe this. I can’t believe that this is happening.
“Go on, then.” she says, and his eyes light up.
“Gonna fuck you so good. Promise.” he whispers, pushing his boxers off. He knees her legs apart until she’s spread open for him; he’s looking down at her pussy with a smile, like he’s a fucking psychopath. Lavender tells him as much, laughing. He grins at her, breaking the spell.
“Sorry, sorry. Just excited.” He drops forward, so he’s right above her. He kisses her, tongue in her mouth, territorial with it.
“Sure I can fuck you like this? Are you sure?” The head of his dick is against her clit. He’s rubbing it back and forth, putting pressure on it. It’s slippery and makes an obscene squelch. It’s enough to rob Lavender of her breath.
“Yeah, yeah, Merlin, Harry. Yes. Please, please.” He’s focused; keeps rubbing against her, back and forth, back and forth. Lavender can barely breathe. She can actually feel tears forming in her eyes. Her fingers are around his bicep, curled tight.
“Harry, Harry- oh please, please, please.” He’s nosing along her throat, her jaw; caging her in. Back and forth, back and forth. He’s closed his eyes, his jaw set. Lavender smells, sees, feels only him; he’s all around her, over her, on her. All she needs is a little more of this, this pressure…
“Yeah? Like this? Just like this?” he murmurs, insistent. Lavender’s beyond words. She vaguely registers her own voice going “ah ah ah” like some animal. Harry keeps going. She’s got her nails in his arm, tight enough to break the skin. Harry noses her hand, bites it playfully.
“C’mon, Lav. Go on.”
The dam breaks. Lavender comes with his name on her lips and his dick between her thighs. Harry’s kissing her shoulder, her chest, her tits. Then, while she’s still shaking with it, he pushes lower and slips inside.
She’s wet enough for there to be little resistance. Harry slides into her like a knife through butter; unerring, relentless.
Lavender gasps for breath. When he’s in her to his balls, Harry stills. He’s looking at her, eyes wide; he’s got his bottom lip caught between his teeth, as if he’s trying really hard to control himself. Lavender smiles, reaches out; she wipes some of his hair away from his forehead. Her hand curls behind his head, bringing him down. She kisses him. His tongue is in her mouth, his dick is in her pussy, his arms are caging her head. Lavender feels like she doesn’t exist anymore, not really; he’s all-encompassing to the point where all that was her has now morphed and shaped around him, until there’s just a big mass of them.
“Lav- Lavender. Can I move? Can I move?”
“Yes.”
He does. Immediately his thrusts are vigorous, strong; there’s a trust there, an I know you can take it, and she can. She wants it, needs it desperately. Lavender’s eyes roll into the back of her head. Every time he pushes in all the way the tip of his cock touches something in her, and it feels like licking the end of a battery. It’s far away, needs a just right, and Lavender knows he’s probably not going to last very long.
“Harry. Harry. Wait.” He stills immediately.
“What?”
“Let me turn over.” He nods, pulls out, lets up; Lavender flips over onto her belly. She takes her braids, lifts them over her shoulder. Harry sees an opportunity and takes it. He latches onto the back of her neck, sucking and licking at her.
“Like this?” he murmurs into her skin. He’s between her legs again, against her vagina, as if asking for passage.
“Yeah, yeah, like this.” He doesn’t wait; slides back into her, and this time it’s fucking pandemonium. Lavender lets out a high-pitched whine. He feels so big like this, with her flat on her belly. His body covers her entire torso. He’s holding her wrists for leverage as he fucks her, steady and accurate.
“You feel so fucking good, you know that? Fucking hell.” he whispers, breath warm against her ear. Lavender barely hears him anymore; he’s hitting that spot with every thrust, again, again, again, and she feels herself getting tight around him, again.
“Never felt this good. Never felt this fucking good.” He grunts it, and she knows he’s close; quickly she gets a hand under her, to thumb at her pussy as he fucks her hard. It’s right, just right, perfect pressure on her clit as he moves in and out of her at a relentless pace; it’s tight, and wet, and his dick is hard and warm inside her.
“Come in me. You should come in me.” she whispers, mind clearly gone; she’ll evanesco his come out of her if necessary, she’ll have a kid, raise it too, whatever; this feeling is too much, too good. He’s so thick inside her, he goes so deep in her pussy, he’s so perfect like this.
“Oh my God. Lavender, what the fuck.” he says, low, as he pushes into her, and again for good measure; he’s as deep as he can go, she feels his balls against her fingers where she’s rubbing her clit. Harry’s moaning loudly now, saying unintelligible words; his dick is jumping in her, getting her full of him.
He slumps on top of her, tucking his chin in her neck. He’s heavy, it’s perfect; Lavender feels him getting softer inside her but it’s still good, she’s still full, she’s still there; with a few more swipes of her fingers she comes again, a third time. Harry laughs into the back of her neck, drops a kiss on her shoulder, groans while she’s convulsing around him; he’s sensitive now.
They lay like that a while. It’s almost unbearably hot and sweaty, but it feels good to have his weight on her, pushing her down. After a few minutes, Harry rolls off of her, onto his back. Lavender feels a rush of wetness as he leaves her. That was stupid, she thinks. She really doesn’t care as much as she should.
“You all right?” he asks. He pushes some flyaways to the side where they got stuck on her forehead. Lavender opens her eyes lazily and smiles at him.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yeah, me too.” He looks good like this. His lips and cheeks are rosy, his eyes drooping, his hair wet with sweat.
Lavender knows exactly why she’s here.