Werewolf!Harry blurb (Patreon)

I already know that y'all want a continuation of the smut so I will get to writing that! I just wanted to post this bit sooner since I haven't posted anything and I'm sorry for that! This week really just flew right on by, schools been slamming me but I'm gonna have the rest of this out by Friday I'm pretty sure! Hope you're all doing well :)

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Harry had dealt with his fair share of whiny pups in his day. 

Hell, most of the time he was the whiney pup himself. Despite being the Alpha, and for the most part being sturdy and phlegmatic, when it was just him and Y/N in a room together then he could be the absolute whiniest thing. Only because she allows him to get away with it, petting at his curls, grazing her fingertips up the skin of his sinewy back while simultaneously teasing and soothing him with gentle words spoken often just loud enough for him to hear. 

This mostly occurred when she’d have been caught up in her school work or at the bakery and Harry can’t help but begin to feel neglected, especially when he’s been banished to the otherside of the couch so she can focusing on writing her essay during his impromptu visits to her flat. That’s when he was the most abhorrent, he’d reckon, quietly sulky and whiney as to give her the chance to finish, but their bond makes it almost impossible for her not to feel his downtrodden mood shift. He figures she feels guilty then, beckoning him over with a soft call of his name and Harry all but scrambles for the opportunity to curl their bodies within one another. 

It’s in those moments the notions of her being his true mate are only reaffirmed, coaxing him to nothing but a muddle of purrs and endearment towards her. Very seldom is she the whiny pup -- she’s lovey and warm and soft but never a complaint or a grumble at her lips when he’s busy or tending to other things. 

So now, when she’s in a state such as this one, Harry isn’t sure what to do.

The beginnings of it had been that morning, when he’d woken to the strips of sunlight cascading against the walls and the dark sheets of his bed. Normally he might wake up to Y/N already stretching out her body, or curled nicely against his body, her back to his chest snuggled close. However, now her arm was wrapped around him tightly, and her leg had been positioned over his own almost possessively. The apple of her cheek was pressed to his chest and he could just barely feel her lips brush against his nipple, pebbled from the damp warmth of her breath. He had attempted to untangle her from him so that he could position them in a way he could wake her with kisses before venturing down to the dining hall for brekkie, but she wouldn’t budge. Grumbled in her sleep and stubbornly latched on tighter to him. 

“Pet,” he’d murmured -- his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, how it does every morning, but he forces it to move, “Wake up f’r me.” He’d given her a shake or two before she was properly roused, and there had been something different in her eyes this morning. Something needier almost. She appeared cute as ever, and soft as ever, she smelled sweeter than normal as well which urged his cock awake some, and when he’d tried untangling them once more she groaned aloud and shook her head.

“Don’ move,” she had attempted to order, “Want to cuddle more. Love you.” 

Harry had felt mushy of course, and he thinks he would’ve even considered skipping breakfast if it meant just letting her cling onto him how she was -- to revel in that sleepy possessiveness that she’d otherwise be too embarrassed to show -- but her stomach rumbled to life, demanding to be heard and catered to. So he’d mustered the strength he knows he has to overpower her, and just brings her along with him as he sits upward, ignoring the long whine that stretched from her throat.  

He’d imagined it had just been some post-sleep snuggles that she’d been working out of her system but that was far from the case. When Harry moved, she moved; if he walked to the dresser, she would tail behind him, and when he was brushing his teeth after she’d finish brushing hers, her forehead was pressed to his back, between his shoulder blades, just resting. He’d been concerned at first, feeling her forehead, “Are you feeling well, my love?” He had asked and she nodded, brows furrowed deep. 

“What, I can’t want to be close to you?” She had replied defensively, though her arms were still locked around him as she’d placed them when he turned from the sink, “If it’s annoying then I’ll jus’ see if Niall wants my affection.” 

Harry’s own brows furrowed, “No,” he grumbled shaking his head, “It’s not annoying, not at all -- you’re just more cuddly than usual, with me. Didn’t know if something was wrong.” 

Y/N shakes her head, the irritation that he’d questioned her having left as she only hugs to him tighter when his own arms reciprocate around her body, “Just love you, s’all,” she’d replied with a soft sigh, and Harry thinks his heart may just burst from his chest when she continues, “Love you lots.” 

“I love you too, baby,” he’d murmured, “Now let’s go get something  to eat.” 

It’d continued throughout breakfast, during their morning walk around the grounds flourishing with springtime, when he’d read to her from his father’s old journals (he didn’t think she’d much care for them, but she loved it -- hearing his father’s recounting of events across the world and within the pack was so enthralling to her, she often requested he even bring one when he came to visit her flat), and carrying on into lunch, and to now, as he’d just had to negotiate his way out of bed with her so he could coordinate their food orders by promising twenty five kisses minimum when he returned. Y/N wanted to be near him at all times, warm on his body, holding onto him in someway, and if humans had the capability of purring he’s sure she would be. 

Harry’s a little worried. Don’t get him wrong, he’s reveling in this sudden burst of love and affection, but its at a caliber she’d never expressed before. If he didn’t know any better, he would say Y/N was on the cusp of her heat, but that. . .but that couldn’t --

Oh. 

Oh.

The sudden spark of the thought as Harry reaching into the desk in his office, tearing open the drawer on the top right side and pushing past the dagger that had linked him and Y/N’s blood together, for the book the Swedish woman sent him. It was full of information about their situation, which he had thumbed through quite often in the beginning, before they were together, but he’d recognized he’d always skipped over a chunk of pages. He can’t remember his exact reasoning but it had been along the lines of not wanting to get his hopes up and not wanting to form a knot at the thought of it. 

When he finds the page, his eyes first flit over it quickly, searching for keywords that might clue him in on what he thinks may be happening and when he sees words like heat and possible and needy it prompts him to go back and read more carefully. Realization pooling around him, allowing him to plunge deep within it’s depths, and awakening his cock. 

Y/N was in what the Swedish woman called, a “false heat”. Obviously, she can’t have one given she is a human, but since she is bonded with a werewolf -- an Alpha, no less -- her body has shifted into a state of this needing and wanting in order to accommodate him. Though his rut had already past, it was just her body trying to figure itself out; regulating so that she could match up with his rut, only to make the two of them a mass of insatiable desires until they’re both run dry. 

And at the understanding that the reason she smelled much sweeter than usual was because she was wet and begging to be filled but didn’t know how to formulate it. His poor girl was so needy for him and he’d run off without a thought -- he can’t help but shake his head at himself. 

So he all but runs back to his room, finding her flopped over on his bed, phone in hand above her face until she hears him and she turns to face him, lighting up once he enters, “You’re back sooner than expected,” she pushed herself up from her lying position, waving him over with both hands, “Sooner the bed, more of you to myself then.” 

He climbed onto the bed and didn’t waste a moment, leaning forward and capturing her lips within his own. They were tender and warm, like she might have been nibbling on them in his absence, frustrated with the way she feels and not understanding why, and this only fuels him further. His hand slides up her back, palm flat between her shoulder blades as he levels her back down to the mattress. His whole body bristles when she moans, a longing, pretty little noise that makes him draw back. Fingers curling into the waistband of her pants, he wiggles them down her legs, and she’s more than compliant, her legs falling open for him to get in between.

“My sweet little puppy,” he murmured, more to himself than to her as he looks down, seeing that the fabric between her legs was nothing but a piece of soaked cotton. So soaked in fact, he could practically see through them, “Why didn’t you tell me your pussy was this wet, hmm? I knew I smelled something sweet,” he shook his head some, overwhelmed with the suddenness of her arousal hitting the air around them. His cock was filling quickly, even more so as he uses two fingers to merely pull the damp fabric to the side to take a peek at her weepy hole. He thinks he may pass out, eyes drinking her in to see her wet lips parted, clit engorged and begging for his mouth and he was more than ready and willing to give it to her, but first he pulls a little harder on her panties.  The fabric splits apart, and she squeaks, “Still waiting for an answer.” He reminded her. 

“I didn’t wanna bother you -- thought I was pushing it with the cuddles,” she struggled to get out as the pads of his fingers carefully graze over her lower lips, spreading her wetness around, slipping ever so carefully around all her sensitive spots, “Was happy just to -- just to cuddle.”

A smile pulls at his mouth, “You’re never pushing anything ever -- I love holding you and I love taking care of you in anyway you need me to,” and he takes mercy on her begging little pussy by sinking two fingers into her hole easily. He shivers some at how both tight and welcoming her hole is for him, curling his fingers up against the soft, spongy bump that makes her whole body tremble. Harry’s mouth waters when the whimpery little moan that leaves her mouth, enters his ears, and his heart swells when she grapples for him. Reaching out for his shoulder, she pulls him down so that he’s close, his arm between them as he begins slowly fucking his fingers in and out of her, while she decides to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him close again. 

“Love you,” she murmurs, “Love you, love you, love you,” she repeats it like a mantra and Harry is soaking it in. Who would have ever thought his sweet little human would have any semblance of a heat? And one that just absolutely turns her into a mess of pure, unfiltered affection. 

“I love you too, Darling,” he hums in response, pecking a kiss to her temple, “So much.”