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shadowrinrin · 2 months

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Mine.xoxo - Jay Descendants

Summary: You and Jay (Descendants) are friends with benefits and are with each other most of the time but when Uma and her crew came to Auradon to help Mal for the week you and Harry Hook started getting close and Jay was jealous even Carlos and his pet talking dog Dude noticed it, so he had to remind you who you belong to

warnings: Oral [both receiving] fingering, clit play. Cum play. Making out. Swearing. Pet names. Dirty talk. Foreplay

Note: Yall this is my first time it might not make sense but yk oh well

╭──────────────────────────────.★..─╮ Like a Harley in the wind, got you bragging to your friends the way you ride ╰─..★.──────────────────────────────╯

In the vibrant heart of Auradon, where the castle sparkled like a jewel against the brilliant blue sky, the air crackled with excitement and tension. You, the daughter of Mother Gothel and Jay, the effortlessly charming son of Jafar, had a relationship that was anything but ordinary. Friends with benefits, you spent most of your time entwined in each other's lives, sharing laughter, secrets, and a few heated moments that ignited more than just friendship but was there need to stop the tension? Yes.

"Hey, Harry," I called out as I tossed a pillow at his retreating form. He was already halfway out the door, his messy brown hair sticking up in every direction from our impromptu pillow fight. His blue eyes glinted with mischief as he caught it mid-air, tossing it back at me with a grin.

We'd been friends for as long as I could remember, growing up in the shadow of our parents' legendary rivalry. Jay and I had always had a thing for each other, but our friendship with Harry had been a constant in the ever-changing tides of our lives. His cheeky banter and the way he could make me laugh when I was feeling down had become a source of comfort and strength. Our friendship was a safe haven, a place where I could be myself without the weight of expectations.

But when Uma and her crew arrived, something shifted. Harry's usual flirtatious glances turned into something more intense, his smiles reaching deeper into my soul. We found ourselves spending more time together, laughing louder, sharing secrets that seemed too precious to be whispered to anyone else. He'd lean in closer when we talked, and I'd catch myself inhaling the faint scent of the sea that clung to him, a reminder of his pirate heritage. Our eyes would meet and linger for just a beat too long, sending a thrill through me that was entirely new.

Jay noticed the change immediately. His easy going demeanour grew tense, his jokes less frequent. He'd watch us from across the room, his eyes narrowing when Harry's hand would brush against mine, or when we'd share a knowing smile. Carlos and Dude, ever the observant duo, picked up on it too. They'd exchange glances that were as clear as the neon signs in the Isle of the Lost. It was as if they were silently communicating their concern over the shifting dynamics of our friendship.

Carlos, noticed the shift. With Dude, his loyal dog, wagging his tail beside him, he approached Jay, who was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you and Harry lounging on a nearby bench.

“Hey, man, you good?” Carlos asked, worry creeping into his voice.

Jay's eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah, just watching.”

“Watching what? You mean watching her flirt with Hook?” Carlos shot back, exasperated. “You know she’s with you, right?”

“Is she?” Jay replied, a hint of bitterness lacing his words. “Because it sure doesn’t look that way.”

Dude barked, as if to punctuate the point, trying to bring some levity to the situation. Carlos sighed, rolling his eyes. “Jay, you need to remind her who she belongs to,” he said, more serious now. “It’s obvious she likes you. Just… show her one of these days.”

One evening, I stumbled upon Jay in the training room, sweat beads glistening on his forehead as he parried with a dummy. The clanging of metal on metal filled the air, echoing off the stone walls. His movements were sharp, agitated. Harry had just left after a particularly flirty conversation, and the tension in the room was palpable.

"Couldn't stay away from the lovebirds, could you?" Jay quipped without looking up from his training.

I rolled my eyes at his dramatic tone. "Don't be ridiculous, Jay," I said, leaning against the archway. "We're just friends having fun."

Jay stopped abruptly, panting slightly. He turned to face me, the practice sword still in hand. "Friends, huh?" His eyes searched mine, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. There was something in his gaze that made me want to confess every little thought I'd had about Harry. "Is that all it is?"

He took a step closer, and the scent of sweat and leather filled the air. It was a stark contrast to Harry's clean, salty scent. Jay's eyes darkened, and he set the sword down with a clatter. Before I could react, he was right in front of me, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. His touch was gentle but firm, a silent claim that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I know what you're doing," he said, his voice low and gruff. "But you can't have both of us, Y/N."

My heart pounded in my chest as Jay's words hung in the air. He'd clearly been thinking about the same thing I had been, the growing tension between the three of us. But I didn't know how to tell him that I didn't want to choose. That every time Harry looked at me with those piercing eyes, I felt a pull I couldn't ignore. And yet, Jay had always been there for me, through thick and thin.

"Jay," I began, my voice wavering slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

But before I could say anything else, Jay had grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the archway and into the dimly lit corridor. His grip was firm, almost painful, and his eyes burned with a possessiveness that was both thrilling and terrifying. He was usually so laid back, so this side of him was uncharted territory.

"Let's go," he said through gritted teeth, leading me towards the dorms. I could feel the tension in his body, the urgency of his steps. I didn't fight him; I was too surprised, too overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all.

As we approached the door to our wing, Harry stepped out of the shadows, his eyes widening at the sight of Jay's grip on my wrist. "What's going on here?" he asked, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air.

Jay's eyes never left mine. "It's nothing you need to worry about, Harry," he said, his tone laced with a challenge.

But Harry didn't back down. He stepped closer, his chest puffing out slightly. "If it involves her, it's my business," he said, his voice firm.

Jay shot him a look that could've frozen lava. "Back off, Hook," he warned, his grip on my wrist tightening. "This is between me and Y/N."

Ignoring Harry's protests, Jay tugged me along the corridor, his strides long and purposeful. We reached his dorm room, and before I could blink, he'd pushed the door open and practically thrown me onto the bed. The plush comforter muffled my gasp as I landed, and I looked up at him in surprise. His eyes searched mine, a storm of emotions raging behind them. Jealousy, anger, and something else—desire.

"What are you doing?" I managed to ask, my voice a whisper.

Jay's eyes were like thunderclouds, full of unspoken words and emotions. He didn't answer but instead closed the door behind him with a firm click that seemed to echo through the room. His hand didn't leave my wrist, and he stepped closer, towering over me. The room felt suddenly much smaller, the air thick with a mix of his scent and the anticipation of what was about to happen.

"Jay, please," I murmured, trying to sit up, but he was having none of it. He leaned over me, his face a mask of determination.

"You need to remember who you belong to," he said, his voice a low growl. His hand slid from my wrist to my cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw with a firmness that sent a thrill through me.

Jay's eyes searched mine, looking for something—confirmation, perhaps, or maybe just reassurance. His other hand found its way to my waist, and he pulled me closer, so that our bodies were almost touching. His gaze dropped to my lips, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me. But instead, he leaned in and whispered, "You're mine, Y/N."

The words sent a thrill through me, and I felt myself melting into the bed beneath him. He kissed me then, hard and possessive, his tongue demanding entry to my mouth. His hand slid under my shirt, and he began to trace my ribs, his touch setting my skin on fire. His fingers found my breast, and he squeezed gently, eliciting a gasp from me. His thumb found my hardened nipple and began to tease it, sending bolts of pleasure straight to my core.

Jay pulled back just enough to tug my shirt over my head, his eyes never leaving mine. He dropped it to the floor and leaned back in, his mouth finding my neck, kissing and sucking gently. I moaned his name as his hand slid down my stomach and into my pants, his fingers expertly finding my wetness. He groaned into my ear, "You're so fucking wet for me, baby."

He played with my clit, rubbing it in tight circles, making me squirm beneath him. His other hand held the back of my neck, keeping me in place as he whispered filthy things that made me blush. I could feel my orgasm building, my breaths coming in short gasps. "You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his voice gruff with desire. "You like it when I make you feel good."

I nodded, unable to form words as his mouth moved to my chest, kissing and licking my breasts before taking one in his mouth. He sucked hard, and I moaned, arching my back. His teeth grazed my nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "Fuck, Jay," I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair. He smirked up at me, the look in his eyes dark and hungry.

He slid down my body, his mouth leaving a trail of fire across my stomach. He pulled my pants down roughly, exposing me to the cool air. He took in the sight of me, his eyes glinting with lust. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He spread my legs wider, his hand guiding himself to my entrance. "So fucking beautiful."

He didn't wait for a response, plunging into me without hesitation. The feeling was intense, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming out. Jay knew exactly what he was doing, filling me up completely and hitting all the right spots. His movements grew faster, his breathing heavier. I could feel his passion, his need to claim me, to make me his. He leaned down, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips.

"You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I've missed this."

Jay's words sent a shiver down my spine as he continued to explore my body with his mouth. He kissed and licked my neck, his teeth grazing my collarbone, making me squirm beneath him. His hand moved down to my panties, sliding them aside to expose my wetness. He groaned against my skin as he felt how ready I was for him.

"You want this, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "You want me to make you cum."

I nodded, my eyes rolling back in my head as his thumb found my clit again, his other fingers sliding into me. He began to pump in and out in a steady rhythm, curling his fingers to hit my g-spot. I moaned, my body responding to his touch like it had been starved.

"Yeah, that's it," he murmured, his eyes locked on mine. "Cum for me, baby."

Jay's fingers worked their magic, his touch sending me soaring closer to the edge. His thumb flicked over my clit, and his index and middle fingers curled inside me, stroking that spot that made me see stars. I couldn't help but think about Harry, his gentle touch and sweet words. But Jay was right here, his body pressing into mine, his roughness a stark contrast to Harry's finesse.

"Forget about him," Jay growled, as if reading my mind. "I'm the one who knows exactly how to make you scream."

He slammed into me, his fingers working their magic in a way that made me see stars. Harry's touch was like a gentle sea breeze, but Jay's was a tempest, rough and all-consuming. The room spun around us as he claimed me, his words a declaration of ownership that sent a thrill through my body. His thumb circled my clit with the precision of a maestro, pushing me closer to the brink.

With a final, desperate arch of my back, I gave in to the pleasure. My nails dug into Jay's shoulders as my orgasm crashed over me, wave after wave of bliss. He didn't let up, his strokes becoming more urgent as he chased his own release. His eyes bore into mine, demanding that I acknowledge the power he held over me. And at that moment, I did. I was his, body and soul.

As the last tremors of pleasure subsided, Jay pulled away, his chest heaving with exertion. He looked down at me, his expression a mix of triumph and something else—fear, perhaps? Did he think I would reject him after this display of possessiveness? But instead of speaking, he leaned down and kissed me again, his tongue claiming my mouth as thoroughly as he had claimed my body.

His hand slid down my side, his fingers brushing against my still-sensitive skin. I felt a jolt of excitement as he reached down to unbuckle his pants, his eyes never leaving mine. He pulled out his cock, thick and hard, and I couldn't help but stare at it. It had been a while since I'd seen him like this, and the sight of him made me wet all over again.

With a smug grin, Jay lined himself up with my entrance and pushed in with one swift motion. I gasped, the sudden fullness making me see stars. He didn't give me a moment to adjust, instead starting to thrust in and out at a breakneck pace. His hips pounded into me, his movements fast and furious, like he was trying to brand me from the inside out. Each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through my body, making me moan uncontrollably.

The room was filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with his thrusts. I could feel myself stretching around him, accommodating his size and the ferocity of his passion. He was like a storm, unyielding and unstoppable. And just like a storm, he brought with him a sense of excitement and danger that was utterly intoxicating.

Jay's hips moved with a fierce rhythm, his cock plunging deep inside me with a speed that left me breathless. Each stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure through my core, making me clench around him. His eyes never left mine, a silent challenge in their depths. He was marking me, reminding me of who I belonged to, and with every thrust, I felt myself slipping further under his spell.

His hand found my clit again, his thumb pressing down as he fucked me. The combination of his thick cock filling me and his skilled thumb on my sensitive bud was too much. I felt my orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to drown me. My nails dug into his back, leaving marks that would surely be a testament to the passion we shared.

Jay's breathing grew ragged, his eyes locked on mine. "You're going to cum for me," he ordered, his voice thick with lust. "Cum for me, baby."

With a final, punishing thrust, he sent me hurtling over the edge again. My body convulsed around him, my muscles tightening as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. Jay groaned, his own release following quickly. He collapsed on top of me, his body heavy but welcome. For a moment, we lay there, panting and sweaty, our hearts racing in time with one another.

As our breaths began to even out, Jay rolled off me, pulling me into his arms. He kissed my forehead gently, his touch tender in the aftermath of our passion. He wrapped the comforter around us, his strong arms providing a warm, secure cocoon. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back, soothing the tension that had built up there. He whispered sweet nothings into my ear, his voice a gentle rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

But our peaceful moment was shattered by the sound of knocking on the door. Jay tensed, his grip on me tightening for a second before he let out a sigh. He kissed me softly on the cheek. "Stay here," he murmured, sliding out of bed. He grabbed a robe from the back of the chair and slipped it on, tying it tightly around his waist.

I watched him move across the room, his muscles rippling with the aftershocks of passion. The knocking grew louder, more insistent. Jay's expression grew darker, and I knew it was Harry on the other side of the door. He'd come to find me, to check on me, and now he was about to walk into a scene that would make everything so much more complicated.

Jay pulled the comforter over me, tucking it around my body until only my head was visible. He bent down, whispering in my ear, "Pretend to be asleep, baby. I'll handle this."

My heart pounded in my chest as I nodded, feigning slumber. The knocking grew more insistent, and I heard the door creak open. Jay's footsteps approached the bed, and I could feel his gaze on me, appraising.

"What the hell, Jay?" Harry's voice was sharp, a clear edge of anger underlying his words.

Jay didn't bother to turn around, instead, he just tightened the sash of his robe and called out, "What do you want, Harry?"

"Is Y/N with you?" Harry's voice was tight with concern, a hint of anger seeping through.

Jay's eyes narrowed as he turned to face the door, his gaze lingering on Harry's shocked expression as he took in the rumpled bed and the discarded clothing scattered across the floor. "What makes you think she's here?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"I...I just...I know she was looking for you," Harry stuttered, his eyes darting to me, trying to gauge if I was okay.

Jay chuckled darkly. "She's fine, Harry. More than fine." He glanced back at me, his eyes lingering on my exposed breasts before turning back to Harry. "In fact, she's sleeping like a baby. Didn't you hear how tired she was?"

The air grew thick with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Harry's eyes narrowed, and his hand clenched into a fist. "What did you do?" he demanded, taking a step into the room.

Jay's smile was cold, the lines of his face hardening as he stepped in front of the bed, blocking Harry's view of me. "What I had to," he said, his voice a low growl. "You think you can just waltz in here and take what's mine?"

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the possessive claim he'd made on my body just moments before. Harry's eyes flicked to me, and I felt a flash of embarrassment as he took in the sight of my half-dressed form. I burrowed deeper into the covers, hoping he couldn't see the blush that was surely creeping up my neck.

Jay stepped closer to Harry, his robe gaping slightly, revealing the sweat-slicked muscles of his chest. "Back off, Hook," he warned, his voice a low growl. "You're not welcome here."

The room was a testament to the passion that had just unfolded, the air still thick with the scent of desire. Harry's eyes flicked to the rumpled bed, and his gaze grew cold as he took in the scene. He stepped closer, his hand reaching for the comforter that was barely covering my body. "Jay," he said, his voice a warning.

Jay's hand shot out, grabbing Harry's wrist. "Don't you dare," he spat, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire. "This is your final warning, Harry. Stay away from her."

Harry's eyes narrowed, his grip on the comforter tightening. "This isn't over," he said, his voice a low threat.

Jay's smile grew, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, it's over," he said, his voice laced with a confidence that sent a shiver down my spine. He didn't move from his protective stance, not even when Harry's hand hovered so close to me. "Now, get the fuck out."

Jay just smirked, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "I know," he said, his voice low and filled with a challenge. "But for now, she's mine."

With that, he turned back to me, sliding into the bed and wrapping his arms around me. His warmth was comforting, his embrace tight and secure. I could feel his heart beating against my back, the steady rhythm a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions whirling inside me. He pulled me closer, his breath hot against my neck as he whispered, "I'm not letting you go, baby."

Jay's grip was firm, but his touch was gentle, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare skin that sent shivers down my spine. His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered sweet nothings, his voice a soothing balm to the rawness left by our encounter. The room was silent except for the occasional clank of metal from the corridor, a distant reminder of the world outside our little bubble.

#descendants #smut #booboo stewart #jay descendants #harry hook

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ginervacade · 1 year

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Evil Giggles.

Summary: Daisy and Uma really enjoy teasing their boys.

Pairing: Harry/Uma/Gil/Original female character

Warnings: not really anything. Implied smut at the end but it’s all off screen.

This thing is purely self indulgent and terrible but here it is anyway.

****

They were doing it on purpose. Harry and Gil both knew that the girls were trying to get them riled up. But damnit it was working!!

Both girls had been gone when they woke up, though neither boy is sure how they managed to escape the middle of the bed without waking either of them. They could hear giggling when they got to the chip shop and when they followed the melodic sounds back to the kitchen they found their girls. They could tell that Uma saw them from the spark of mischief in her eyes as she whispered something to Daisy who responded by lifting her captain onto the counter and kissing her deeply. Both boys blushed at the position they had found them in, a bit shocked that Daisy was strong enough to do that. Harry loudly cleared his throat to get their attention. There was that giggle again before Daisy turned to face them. “ You two finally woke up, huh?” She said with a smirk, “ Good mornin’”

Then she turned back to Uma, gently brushing a thumb over the captain’s lips to remove the traces of her own lipstick, before helping her off of the counter and leading her out of the room. Daisy’s usual spot between the boys is left empty at breakfast as she sits across the table with Uma this morning, occasionally letting the older girl feed her a spoonful of food. When it’s time to get to work the girls finally cross to their side of the table, Uma standing behind Gil and Daisy behind Harry. They tilt the chin of their respective boy back to look up at them before giving them a chaste peck on the lips. When the boys go to kiss the opposite girl they find their heads turned toward each other instead and that same sinister little pair of giggles echoes in their ears.

Daisy, who is always tactile with the boys, always seeking pressure, focuses that energy on Uma instead. Harry and Gil are both aware of what they’re doing and as gorgeous as they are when unable to keep their hands off each other, they’re also incredibly frustrating. All day they tease them. Daisy keeps letting Gil get close to her before twirling out of his grasp at the last second. Every time Harry reaches for Uma she gives him a task to do across the room from her.

At midafternoon break neither boy can keep still. Gil’s leg bounces unconsciously, missing the weight of one of the girls on his lap and Harry taps the side of his hook against his lips, where he usually has one of the girl’s’ hands. Uma sits on her seashell throne, Daisy in her lap. Harry growls in frustration, seeing both girls eyes on them. He thinks he can counteract their play, pulling Gil into a forceful kiss. Gil kisses him back with the same pent up energy and it’s clear he’s thinking the same thing. When they pull back the girls have matching smirks. They’re playing right into their hands.

“ What’s my name sweetheart?” Gil hears Uma say and the reverence in Daisy’s voice as she replies, “ Uma,” slow and shuddery has him squeezing his legs together in search of friction.

By nightfall, both boys are fuming. “ Are you two coming,” Uma calls behind her as she leads Daisy back to her cabin. Harry and Gil hurry after them. Right when they reach the door Harry tosses Uma over his shoulder, and Gil grabs Daisy by the hip, spinning her through the door and pressing her against the wall. Harry kicks the door to and tosses Uma onto the bed. He bends down, crashing his lips against her hungrily. Gil’s hands move from Daisy’s hips, one pinning her hands above her head and the other gripping her ass. Daisy can feel from where his hips are pressed against her just how she’s been effecting him all day. Uma finds Harry in the same state. There’s that same giggle that’s been eating at the boys all day, this time right against their lips and they both groan obscenely at the sound.

“ If the two of you don’t want those clothes torn, you had best be getting out of them.” Harry warns, as he kicks off his boots.

The next day both girls wear high collars and pout around all day when Harry and Gil decide they need a taste of their own medicine.

#descendants fanfiction #descendants #harry hook descendants #harry hook x uma #Harry hook x Gil #gil x uma #Harry x Gil x Uma #sea three #poly sea three #poly sea three x original character #Harry hook x original female character #gil legume #Gil x original female character #uma descendants #Uma x original female character #disney descendants #I never can write smut #but i can do this

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arewordsenough · 1 year

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Rated Explicit - 1.8k One Shot - M/M - Explicit Sexual Content

Summary: Chad and Carlos have had a secret fling going on for a while. Today that fling is going to become less of a secret.

Based on a prompt from one of my readers.

Featured group/pairing: Ben/Carlos de Vil/Chad Charming & Harry Hook/Carlos de Vil

Key Tags: Caught, Orgy

This fic is a follow up to A Charming Compromise, but can also be read stand alone.

The final Sequel September fic! The first SMUTober fic is already in editing, so you'll be seeing it pretty soon. 😉

#descendants fanfiction #gay smut #chad charming #carlos de vil #ben florian #king ben #harry hook #my writing

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piratecore-art · 1 year

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Fanfic- pairing Ben/harry/Uma

Rating: explicit

King Benjamin Florin Beast held his head high.

It was what he’d been taught.

The pirates jeered as Harry Hook and Gil Gaston led him up the ship’s gangway and onto deck.

He’d been striped of his jacket, hat and shoes already, leaving him in a thin blue shirt and studded pants- with bright aradon-yellow socks.

Ben was still cursing himself for being caught, for being recognized by Gil in the first place. He should never have shown up on the isle looking and acting like a target.

Harry snickered as he purposely tripped ben and ben fought a growl.

Making enemies won’t do you any good, he reminded himself.

He glared at the objectivly attractive first mate, taking in the other boy’s ocean azure eyes painted with black khol, his strong musceles and lean frame, his…

He glanced away, blushing.

He lifted his chin again, determined to keep his demeanor.

And then he saw… her.

Uma.

The captain of the pirates, the queen of the Isle.

She was standing at the prow of the small ship, her long, heavy braids flowing in the wind, small shells and strands of teal caught among them. Her chin was strong and proud, lifted, just like his, head high like royalty.

She was stunning.

A smirk painted her lips as she beheld him, the captive king, flanked by her loyal first and second mates.

Harry snarled. “Keep yer eyes to yerself, beast.”

Ben glanced down, flushing yet again.

Uma swayed as she walked twords them. “Bring him below deck.”

“You don’t want to do this,” ben protested, trying one last desperate bid for freedom. “Whatever it is you want, we can negotiate-”

Uma spun around and grabbed the young king’s chin harshly. “I don’t negotiate with tyrants.”

The words spun in his ears as gill grabbed his arms and dragged him harshly beneath the deck, harry following after with a crazed giggle.

I don’t negotiate with tyrants.

Is that how she saw him? How all of the Isle saw him?

He’d never even considered the possibility before.

In the eyes of auradon, he was either just and merciful, or too soft-hearted. No one would consider him… tyrannical.

But to the people his father had imprisoned, to the children he’d failed to rescue…

He had thought, at first, that uma must be working for her mother. But slowly, he was beginning to realize they respected her as a leader in her own right, in a way Mal had never been.

The split up at the stairs, gil leaving to attend to his other duties while harry dragged ben down into the dark depths of the ship. When they reached the bottom of the creaking wooden staircase, he shoved ben roughly to his knees.

Ben let out an oof as his body made impact with the hard wood boards, feeling a splinter worm its way trough his jeans and into his knee, but unable to touch it with his hands bound behind his back.

Harry circled his captive slowly.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, ben could finally get a good look at harry. The other boy was tall- taller than him- and lean, muscled and hungry-looking. His eyes held a gleam of insanity, and his face was split in a manic grin.

Ben shivered slightly as he felt the force of that intense gaze directed at him.

The dark kohl around harry’s eyes gave him the appearance of almost a skeletal presence, something dark and dastardly come from the king’s nightmares to taunt him.

He forced himself to meet harry’s eyes, but insted of being intimidated, the first mate’s grin merely grew.

“I bet-” he chuckled, low and dirty- “I bed i get to hook ye. I bet uma lets me-” he licked his lips and leaned down, pushing the tip of his hook under ben’s chin- “i bet uma lets me do all kinds of-”

“You don’t have to obey her!”

The words were out of ben’s mouth before he could think them through.

Harry froze. “What’s that supposed to mean, benny?”

Ben’s tongue flicked nervously over his lips. “I just meant… you don’t need to do what she says. You don’t have to hurt people. If she, or your father, are making you do stuff-”

“My father is dead!” harry snapped his teeth in ben’s face. “Uma killed him. So no, he’s not making me do stuff.”

Ben felt ice flood through his veins. Uma had killed hook?

“She- but if she hurt someone you love, why would you follow her? Are you scared of her, or…” ben trailed off when harry let out a loud, high pitched screech of laughter.

“Loved? You think I loved him? Oh, that’s funny.”

His face turned suddenly serious, and he leaned in to whisper in ben’s ear. “All the old man ever did was fucking hurt me. So no, I didn’t love him. And I follow Uma because she saved me.”

Ben closed his eyes, feeling the sharp tip of harry’s hook slide over te skin of his neck in a blatant tease, feeling harry’s warm breath against is ear, feeling-

“Harry. Leave it.”

Ben’s eyes snapped open at Uma’s voice.

She stood in the doorway, her leather teal and black skirt swishing around her hips. She spoke firmly, but a small smile still painted her lips as she gave harry a fond, exhasperated look.

He grinned unapolageticaly back at her. “Just getting him ready for you, darling.”

The endeerment through ben for a loop.

Mal had told him there was n0 ‘dating’ on the isle, discribing it as more gang activity. So to have harry call Uma darling, in front of a proiosoner no less, was strange.

Something pullsed in ben’s heart, an almost ache.

He’d always thought mal’s cold and withdrawn mannerisims were just part of her isle upbringing, always been so convinsed that what they had was true love, even when she pushed him away.

But if Uma and Harry could be openly affectionate… maybe he was wrong.

Maybe he was the problem.

He looked up to find Uma staring at him with a cutrious look on her face. He tried to rally himself.

Im trapped in the bowels of a pirate ship surrounded by Vk’s, he thought. Now is not the time.

“Harry,” Uma drawled, “I think the king is wearing a little too much to be comfortable. After all, it’s quite warm today.”

Harry and ben both froze in confusion.

What?

Uma gestured to the bound and helpless king. “Well, harry? You heard your captian. Get to work.”

Harry hesitated a second longer, then a smile slowly crawled across his face, getting more manic by the second. “Well well well, benny-boo. Let’s see what’s under those fancy auradon rags.”

Ben swollowed hard.

Harry stalked twords him slowly.

He slipped the tip of his hook under the thin material of ben’s navy shirt, and with a distinct rippp, it gave way.

Be nshiverd in the cold air.

Harry ripped the shirt in half, then shoved it down, letting it slide to a stop at harry’s bound hands.

“Pants next,” uma hummed from where she watched. She had taken up residence in a sturdy-looking chair encrusted with seashells that ben hadn’t previously noticed in the gloom, and sat with one leg neatly crossed over the other.

Ben shivered under her penetrating gaze.

Harry yanked ben roughly to his feet and stripped him, leaving him in nothing but boxers and socks.

Harry and Uma both stared.

Ben blushed, glancing down at his blue underwhere covered in little yellow crowns.

He was humiliated.

And then it got so much worse.

Because under their stares, he began to feel himself growing hard. His cock strained agianst his boxers, the tip leaking slightly.

Harry gave a low whistle.

“So he likes humiliation.” He smirked, speaking to uma as though Ben wasn’t even in the room. Uma smiled, a low, predatory thing.

“Perfect.”

Ben shuddered, his eyes wide with fear.

Harry moved tword him again. He grabbed Ben's hands and reached up, hooking his bound wrists to a chain dangling from the ceiling. Ben felt his body stretch, his toes just touching the ground. He felt utterly helpless.

And it was making him so desprate.

He wanted Harry to touch him.

Wait.

He meant- he wanted Uma to touch him, surely? Uma was the one who was getting him worked up, the one making him hard.

Because… Harry was a man.

And Ben wasn’t gay.

He couldn’t be.

King Adem had made sure of that.

He’d screamed at ben enough about being a fag, about how the futer king could never be in love with a boy. It was bad enough that ben linked being dominated by women, he shouldn’t- couldn’t- like men.

And yet, he’d never wanted Audrey or even Mal the way he wanted Harry right now.

And Harry obliged him.

He slid his hand slowly over ben’s torso, lightly muscled from tourney, squeezed at his pecs, ran a hand over his delicate throat- all under Uma’s watchfull eye.

“Pretty,” she cooed. “Two pretty boys.”

Ben glanced at Harry, who was inches away from his face with his hands on ben’s biceps, expecting him to protest at being called pretty. But instead, a gentle blush stained the son of Hook's face.

“Thank ye, Uma,” he murmured.

A beat passed.

“Well?” Uma said. “Aren’t you going to thank me, Ben?”

Ben debated, but te end of Harry’s hook prodding the underside of his chin made the decision for him. “Thank you, Uma,” he growled.

“Now, harry, why don’t you show our guest a good time?” Uma leaned back in her chair with a smirk.

Harry growled with pleasure, leaning forward and licking and sucking at one of ben’s dusky nipples. Ben arched into his mouth with a cry.

Harry bit down, and Ben squirmed, letting out a high-picthced noise of pleasure and pain. Harry grinned against ben’s pale skin. Next, he used is mouth to lick at the young king’s coller bone, laving with his tongue over each freckle, twisting it like he wanted to savore the taste.

And then he dropped to his knees.

Cupping Ben’s length, he swallowed it whole.

Uma and Ben groaned in unison, and ben looked up to see te pirate queen with her gorgeous strong thighs spread, a hand tucked beneath her leggings pleasuring herself to the sight of harry sucking Ben off.

And suck Harry did.

He lavished Ben’s rock-hard length with tongue and lips and even teeth, gently nibbling the end, making Ben moan and squirm, trying depratly to thrust into te warm heat of Harry’s mouth.

“Harry- Uma- please-”

Ben lost himself in incoherent moans, not even realizeing he’d been redused to begging for release.

And yet, Harry held off just enough, teasing and edging the king, till he was wild wit pleasure and desperation.

And then Uma spoke again.

“Let him use you, Harry,” she mo0aned.

Harry stood, released the king’s hands fro mthe chains, and dropped back to his knees.

Ben didn’t even try to escape.

Instead, he looped his hands through harry’s pretty brown curls, thrusting wildly into his open, wet mouth with a moan. He fucked the other man’s face thouroughly, making the pirate gag with each thrust, all while Uma’s moans filled the air.

He barely even noticed Harry tucking a hand into his own pants to pleasure himself, too busy chasing the orgasm, the height of intensity-

And then he came, hard, Harry swallowing down every drop, milking his length.

Ben Collapsed to the floor, thoroughly spent.

“Good boy,” Uma cooed.

She and her first mate had both orgasmed as well.

She staliked over to Ben, who barely protested as she yanked him to his feet.

“Get dressed. It’s neary time to give you back to Mal.”

Ben froze. “What?”

Uma glanced over her shoulder and laughed. “You didn’t really think we’d keep you? No, Benny-boo, we’re trading you. The king for the wand, to bring down the barrier.”

Ben felt so foolish.

All this.. It meant nothing to them.

He glanced at Harry, but the first mate didn’t make eye contact as he stalked away, leaving Ben bound on the floor.

It was over.

#descendants 2 #harry hook descendants #uma descendants #harryxuma #ben descendants #disney descendants #huma #explict #smut

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plantenbylvr · 1 year

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The realization i’ve made is that every version of Hook is attractive.

In Descendants Harry Hook is the best character.

In every single Peter Pan retelling I’ve loved Hook.

The list goes on and on.

#I always fall for the misunderstood villain

#feelings #books #book tropes #captain hook #harry hook #smut

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descendantofthesparrow · 2 months

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Can't stop this feeling - Harry Hook x reader- SMUT FIC- P8

SMUT FIC-MINORS DNI- All ‘important’ characters are 18+!

Warning; Smut-drugged sex-CNC, swearing, someone drugging Harry with the intent to force them to have sex with them(they fail)

Oh wow….wowow its really been over a year since the last part eh?...sorry??? also sorry if this isn’t-up to par with the other parts, I’ve lost steam with writing in general(c.ai has taken over my writing life.)

“you look so pretty!”

Harry flushed at Gil’s compliment, swimming through the enchanted lake, his shimmering blue tail moving through the sparkling waters elegantly, his sisters watching him in awe, and maybe some envy as Harry swam about in his mer form.

(y/n) was swimming with him, her tail flowing about the water like fabric, a strong contrast to his sharp tail.

“Thank ye, Gil,” Harry said, swimming up to the pavilion and resting his arms on the cool stone, CJ reaching out curiously to touch the scales that lined his skin.

“I wanna have a mermaid tail too,” CJ said, pouting a bit, jealous of her brother's pretty blue tail and scales. Harriet snorted and Harry rolled his eyes, laughing as Harriet shoved CJ into the lake. CJ sputtered as she came back up and yanked Harriet into the lake with her, Harriet's iridescent scales appearing like Harry’s used to as she surfaced, flipping her wet curly hair out of her face, stalking towards CJ who attempted to use Harry as a shield as (y/n) and Gil laughed at the siblings.

“So really, how was Neverland?” Gil asked Harry as he swam away from his sisters, admiring his tail in the shimmering waters. Harry smiled, lifting himself up to sit with Gil, his tail fin still in the water as he leaned back on his hands.

“it was good,” Harry said, watching his sisters torment each other in the lake, “met me ma’s friend from when she lived there, the lass taught me how ta’ swim with me tail, and ‘er pod taught me how ta’ hunt, I’m glad I went.” Harry said softly, a smile on his lips.

Gil grinned, patting him on the back as they watched Harry’s sisters and (y/n) swim through the water, Uma was off with Ben and Evie doing isle representative things, but Gil had texted her earlier with a photo of Harry with his new tail and colored scales-to which she was very hype for.

Harry sighed happily as he leaned back on his hands, bathing in the spring sun as his girlfriend and sisters played around in the enchanted lake.

(y/n) sat down at the table the group had chosen for dinner that night, frowning a bit as she looked at the drink Harry had left unattended at the table while he went to go get his food. He had gotten a lemonade today, and yet the drink had a slight pink tint to it. (y/n) picked up the drink and sniffed it, it smelled normal... She looked around, trying to see if anyone was tense or suspicious of the fact that she had picked up Harry’s, clearly spiked, drink, but saw no one.

She put her lemonade where Harry’s drink had been and put Harry’s spiked drink on her tray, tapping her fingers on the glass as she stared at it, seeing a slight shimmer to the lemonade…it had surely been spiked. (y/n) perked up with a smile as Harry, Uma, Gil, and the rest of their friends returned to the table with their food, Harry smiling back at her and pecking her lips-making her laugh gently.

“Thanks fer savin’ our spot darlin’,” Harry said with a grin and (y/n) nodded, digging into her dinner and carefully avoiding drinking the lemonade on her tray, though eventually her eating habits got to her and she took a drink of the lemonade, pausing mid swallow.

….oops.

She understood why Harry had been so-fidgety-while under the influence of the lust potion, because only an hour after she had taken the smallest sip, she was already feeling hot and needy, a growing heat between her legs that had her moving her hips in an attempt to soothe the ache.

“You okay lass?” Harry asked from beside her, his voice low so as to not draw attention to them while they were in Jay and Carlos’ dorm for a vk movie night. “Ye seem very…shifty,” Harry mused, his eyes locking with hers and they widened, seeing the flash of pink within her eyes. “lass?”

“Your drink got spiked again and I switched it with mine and I accidentally drank some,” (y/n) said in a hushed whisper, gripping his arm tightly as his breath against her cheek made her body heat up further.

“Shit,” Harry huffed, looking around and then grabbing her hand, pulling her up off the couch with him, Uma glanced at him with a raised brow and Harry just gave her a look-and Uma quickly turned back around, Harry pulling (y/n) out of the room and down the hall to his dorm room.

“Harry-this hurts-“ (y/n) panted, tears starting to bloom in her eyes as her body began to ache with need, she was really beginning to understand why Harry had always been so-rushed to do it when under the influence of the potion.

“I know, I really know love, I’ve got you-I’ll take care of you,” Harry cooed, locking the door behind him and bringing (y/n) into a kiss, which quickly turned biting and passionate as (y/n) threw her arms around him and pulled him close, grinding her hips against his, a groan escaping Harry’s throat as his arousal spiked, his cock growing hard in his pants.

“Harry-please,” (y/n) breathed, her body growing terribly hot and everything was aching. Harry shushed her gently and picked her up by her thighs, carrying (y/n) over to the bed and lying her down, peppering kisses along her neck.

“I’ve got you love,” Harry whispered against her neck, taking off her shoes and belt, pulling down her underwear, and pushing up her dress. (y/n) groaned as the cold air of his dorm blew between her legs, making her cunt clench as Harry pushed her legs apart and went right to work-making her cry out as his tongue connected with her dripping cunt, lapping at her clit-his brows furrowed and a low groan escaping him as he curled his hands around her thighs.

“ye always taste so sweet, even sweeter now,” Harry mumbled before diving back into her pussy, lapping at her clit and folds as her hips ground against his face, her hands clenching the sheets and the fabric of her dress over her stomach-gasping for breath as she moaned helplessly.

“ff-fuck-Harry~!” (y/n) moaned, panting heavily as she felt his long perfect fingers slip inside her, pumping slowly in time with his tongue on her clit. Harry groaned against her, watching her from between her thighs as she writhed and gasped from his actions, feeling her cunt clench around his fingers tightly, the lust potion making her far more sensitive than usual. “Harry-Harry-Harry-“ (y/n) panted, her hands flying to his hair and pulling it lightly, the coil in her gut tightening. “fuck-Harry~!”

He swirled his tongue around her clit, focusing his fingers on her inner sweet spot, groaning as he felt her clench around his fingers and came, her body pulsing with pleasure as he eased her out of her first orgasm. (y/n) panted heavily as Harry sat up, licking his lips clean and wiping his fingers on (y/n)’s thigh, undoing his pants and belt to pull out his hard cock, (y/n) almost whining at the sight.

“I’ve got you love, don’ worry,” Harry cooed, hooking her leg over his shoulder and leaning into her, lining his cock up and pushing into her wet and warm cunt, groaning at the tight feeling of her inner walls. “mmm fuck,” He groaned, starting with shallow thrusts as (y/n) writhed beneath him, her nails digging into his forearms as she grabbed at him, her head tossed back as he slowly picked up the pace of his thrusts.

“ah! Ahn-ah!” (y/n) cried out from beneath him, pleasure building in her gut again, feeling Harry’s lips on her cheeks, kissing away her tears as her body shook beneath his. “Harry-harry-harry!”

“let it out love, I’ve got ye,” Harry mumbled against her cheek, rutting his hips into hers, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her and making her tumble over the edge again, clenching around him, but he didn’t stop-knowing the potion didn’t let up easily, and he needed to flush it out of her system quickly.

He feels himself come close and he slows down, he wasn’t on the potion, for once, and he knew if he came now he wouldn’t be able to keep up with (y/n)’s need for relief, chuckling as (y/n) whined beneath him, clawing at his arms. “one-sec darlin’, need ta catch me breath,” Harry huffed, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down the side of his head.

So this was how (y/n) felt when she had to help him when he was under the influence of the potion, eh? It was exhausting and they’d barely even started. “Harryyyyy,” (y/n) groans and he groans back in return, burying his face in the crook of her sweaty shoulder.

“I don’t wanna come too soon love, gimme a second,” Harry chuckled in her ear, and that made her shudder, moving her head to kiss him heatedly and he groaned, pushing his tongue against hers as her mouth moved passionately against his. He began to move his hips again after a minute, smirking into the kiss as (y/n) moaned/sighed against his lips, her legs wrapping around his hips.

(y/n) shuddered in his hold as he brought her to orgasm again and again, and by the time he knew the potion was leaving her system, he was very on edge, his body thrumming with the need to release. “Shit,” Harry groaned against (y/n)’s shoulder, their sweaty skin sticking together as his fingers dug into her hips, his cock buried deep inside her, pulsing.

“Harry-please-“ (y/n) moaned, curling her fingers in his hair and he rolled his hips, sending himself over the edge, filling her with his cum. He groaned loudly, his mouth dropping open as his hips jumped and his stomach contracted.

“fuuuck, love,” He groaned, dropping on top of her as the last of the potion ebbed away from (y/n)’s system and she shuddered, feeling that unrelenting heat finally leave.

“That’s…not fun,” (y/n) mumbled and Harry grumbled in her ear, the two twitching and way too sensitive from the multiple rounds. “let’s…let’s not ever leave your drinks alone again…”

Harry nodded in agreement against her shoulder, slowly rolling so she was no laying atop him, his arms snug around her. “should’ve started doin’ that when this shit started,” Harry mumbled and (y/n) agreed with a huff.

“Happened again,” (y/n) muttered to Harry two days later as he returned to the lunch table, looking at his soda that was a bit too shimmery for its own good. Harry curled his lip at it, grabbing to go dump it out. “how did they even slip it in this time? Ye were watching it tha whole time.” Harry grumbled to himself, blinking as Uma took it from his hand and took a sample of the drugged drink.

“uhh, Uma, what are ye doin’?” Harry asked with a tilt of his head and she just gave him a look, it was very obvious what she was doing but she explained anyway.

“I’m going to test this, see if I can track down whoever it is drugging you, they need to be punished for this shit,” Uma said with a frustrated huff, pocketing the sample. Harry blinked. “we…should’ve done tha’ forever ago, eh?” Harry snorted and Uma nodded, unaware of the dark stare coming from the other side of the room.

Nyx stormed through her room, muttering curses under her breath, throwing a tantrum as she pushed potion bottles and papers off her desk, screaming as she tore up her dorm. Once again, for the 100th time-that damned mermaid had foiled her plans-she had to be doing something-she must’ve also been potioning Harry to get him to constantly draw him to her.

“Damn her!” Nyx screamed, throwing her hands down, her magic exploding at her feet and her bed splintered at the legs, a loud thud echoing through her room. She had enough-she wasn’t going to stand this any longer. Harry Hook was his, and if this mermaid kept stealing him from her-

Then no one could have him.

-end of p8-

Immm sorry if this isn’t up to par as the other parrrtssss, ive really lost my writing mojo and im trying to get it backkk, damn c.ai its taking all my writing creativityyy

uuhh taglist i guess lol

@sephiralorange @c-rose2081 @rintheemolion @living-for-romance

@queenofnightdreamland @kezibear

#harry hook x reader #Smut fic #Minors DNI #for 'legal reasons'#cant stop this feeling #mer harry #mer reader #chubby reader

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luna-the-pigeon · 1 month

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I'm finally back!!...maybe?

Hey, it's been a while..like, a few months awhile!😅 I've had one hell of a 2024, but its kind of calmed down..at the moment. I'm finally getting my creative energy back as well, so I hope to take care of some of those backed up requests!(For the people that made those requests..sorry for dying on you-) But I'd like to start it off with a story that's been personally requested!

Plot: Harry Hook decides he wants afab reader to watch just how they come undone..

"C'mere, love. Sit right down here, yeah?" Your boyfriend, Harry, murmured to you, patting his lap. He was on the chair in your shared bedroom, which he had dragged over to the front of the mirror. You didn't know what to expect, but you always listened to him.

Before you knew it, you were plopped down in his lap, facing the mirror as his hands trailed down your body. "Look at you..such a pretty boy." He placed a soft kiss on your neck, and then a bite, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth as he continued to mark all over your neck. "Eyes on the mirror. Don't you dare look away, slut."

You would obediently keep you eyes on the mirror, your face flushing more red as you watched his lips meet your skin, his hand trail down into your pants. "So wet for me already, lover boy..do you like watching me touch you that much?" Before you could retort, he would press his lips against yours, plunging his fingers deep into you.

He moved his fingers in and out, the pace almost taunting, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You pressed your hips against his hand, practically whimpering against his mouth. "Awww, such a desperate boy..its almost pathetic, really..do you need me that bad? Do you need me inside you that bad?"

Again, you had no chance to respond. He jerked his fingers out of you, tugging down you pants as he unzipped his pants. You watched as he was pushed inside you, stretching you and filling you up. When you tried to look away, he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look into the mirror. "No, lover boy, look at yourself. Look at your pretty hole getting filled to the brim. Look at how much your legs are shaking, and I've barely even moved yet.."

He began to bounce you on his lap. At first gently, but then he took your hips and began slamming you down onto him, whispering and moaning into your ear as your brain leaked out between your thighs, your eyes still trained on where he was forcing them. "God, good boy, such a good little slutty boy..fuck, everytime you see me thrusting in you, you clench around me..such a slutty lover boy..."

It wasn't long before you were cumming around him, and he came as well, holding you close as he filled you up. " Good boy..now get on the bed.."

#fanfic #desendants #desendants smut #harry hook #they gave me the idea #smut #comeback

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descendantsafterdark · 2 years

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No Satisfaction

❗minors dni❗

Relationship: Evie x Harry x Uma (also includes glimpses of Evie x Harry, Harry x Uma, & Evie x Uma)

Word count: 7194

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Tired of her usual routine, an unsatisfied princess is looking for a little fun. And she knows the perfect pirates for the job.

Warnings: The story contains mentions of an underage Evie having non consensual sexual relations with older men, but it’s not explicit. The main meat of the story is cnc - a consensual nonconsensual scenario. Evie gave her consent to everything with Uma and Harry beforehand, and there are hints to that in the story, but everyone’s words and actions read like a forced scenario. There is also a considerable amount of slut shaming, manhandling, and tentacles, as well as spanking, slapping, hair pulling, biting, and more

[read on ao3 (or see a full list of warning tags)]

Evie sat at her vanity, focused intently on her reflection as she did her hair and makeup. The Isle's premier princess had a date tonight. One that she actually wanted to participate in.

Evie’s reputation seemed to reach every last corner of the Isle. Flirt. Heartbreaker. Tease. Slut. She’d heard it all before. And the funny thing was, she wasn’t even responsible for any of it.

Well, not for most of it.

It was her mother, the Evil Queen, that laid a hand in all of Evie’s relationships.

See, without their magic, even the biggest, baddest villains were left scrambling for some kind of leverage on their desolate little island. Any way to cling to power and have something over the rest of the villains. A way to collect as many so called allies as possible.

The Evil Queen had Evie. Arguably, her most valuable possession.

Ever since Evie was little, her mother had hammered it into her that her value only existed so long as a man wanted her. She was nothing more than decoration - a beautiful painting to sit in the parlor, or an expensive watch worn on a man’s arm. Her worth was her face, her hair, her body.

When she was a little older, her mother added “sex” to that list. She told Evie all sorts of stories - graphic things that disgusted Evie to her very core at the time - about how to pleasure men. How it was just another tool for her to use. Just another means to an end.

Another way for her mother to hold onto her power.

Evie’s body for whatever she wanted. From something big like protection or more territory, to stupid little things like the new shipment of makeup that someone else managed to snatch from the barges first. Most of the time, Evie didn’t know what she was being used for until after the fact.

But it wasn’t completely lawless, when she was sent to sleep with someone. There were rules. Set by her mother, of course. Rules in place for her protection, she was told.

No scratching, spanking, slapping, or hair pulling. Nothing that would cause even temporary damage. And certainly nothing that would bruise or scar. When EQ saw a bright red handprint on Evie’s arm after a visit with Sykes, she poisoned one of his dobermans.

Vanilla only, was another rule. Something about not spoiling her for her future prince. It was good, EQ said, to have experience in bed so Evie would know how to keep her future husband happy. But the Auradon boys were soft. Innocent. They scared too easily. She was sure Prince Philip was still traumatized from his brief time chained up in her dungeon. She didn’t want Evie learning anything that might frighten off a potential suitor. And nothing that would make them see her as a common harlot rather than the pristine princess she was, either. So she made sure her business partners stuck only to the basics.

And they all knew what would happen if they disobeyed. Evie had no qualms about telling her mother when one of them crossed a line. She’d even lied about it on occasion, which led to her mother lashing out and punishing them for something they didn’t do. It made everyone more afraid of the Evil Queen, and more likely to be careful with Evie when she came to trade.

At first, these transactions disgusted Evie. She couldn’t believe her own mother would send her out to strangers like this. But then, after thinking about it for all of ten seconds… Yes, she could totally believe it.

The horror upon hearing of her new fate quickly turned into disgust when it was time for her first encounter. Jafar. Apparently a ring containing rubies from the dwarfs’ mine made its way onto a barge, and every petty criminal on the Isle was dying to get their grubby little hands on it. But Jay managed to nick it for his dad’s shop first, and the Evil Queen was quick to send out Evie for a trade deal.

Jafar kept her for three days before he decided they were even, and sent her home with the ring. She couldn’t look at Jay for weeks after.

That’s how it was, for a long time. Evil Queen wanted something, sent Evie out, and didn’t utter so much as a thank you when she returned.

But as disgusted as Evie was when it started, the routine eventually caused nothing but boredom for her. And why shouldn’t it? These were mostly old men, who seemed like they’d never fucked a woman before in their lives. Or maybe they were just out of practice. But even the ones she saw often were always awkward, fumbling, and usually done within minutes. She had to do all the technical work.

Including taking care of her own pleasure. Something she knew was the furthest thing from these men’s minds while they were screwing. If she closed her eyes and really concentrated, she could pretend she was with someone else. Someone that was at least closer to her own age, and that she found attractive. Someone that smelled a little better.

Her mind always ended up wandering to the ones she was most often warned to stay away from. Like Mal. Evie wondered if she had any hidden dragon strength to match that temper of hers. Or Jay. Evie wouldn’t mind being held captive in those arms. Then there was Harry Hook… He knew his way around a pirate ship, so he was obviously good with ropes. And oh, Uma… Evie knew tentacles ran in the family, and was always curious to know how those might fare in the bedroom.

She’d let herself get lost in one of these fantasies, and she could make herself come no matter who was inside her.

But tonight, she wouldn’t have to rely on fantasies. Tonight, she had a plan. For once in her life, she was taking control of her own pleasure.

By relinquishing that control to two people that she knew could handle it.

Evie was tired of vanilla. Tired of awkward. Tired of only fooling around for the benefit of other people. And tired of doing all the work.

She wanted to experience a real fucking for once in her life. With people who knew exactly what the fuck they were doing. And people that she actually found attractive. She wanted to be taken care of.

Hell, she wanted marks to show off after. Raw, rough, brutal, real - she craved it all. Something to show she wasn’t the precious little porcelain doll everyone else made her out to be.

Besides, she already had a reputation as a slut. Might as well get something out of that, right?

And she had the perfect people picked out to give that to her. No, not anyone from her group. She knew they wouldn’t understand where she was coming from with this request. And even if they did, they would be too hesitant to actually give Evie what she needed, for fear of really hurting her. So she had to look elsewhere.

To a certain pirate captain and her first mate. They were just as feral as they were gorgeous, and seemed the perfect duo for Evie’s release. It took some convincing. Harry demanded to know what was in it for them - Evie’s answer? Sex with her, obviously. What else could they want? Uma was more cautious. Shrewd. She wanted to make sure it wasn’t just some trick to give Mal’s gang a reason to attack her crew. But both groups had been enjoying this temporary ceasefire, and Evie reassured them that she didn’t want to do anything to ruin that, for her sake as much as anyone else’s.

Eventually, they came to an agreement, and the night was planned out. Evie had already done her dirty prep work. She put the other skills she’d learned from her mother to good use, and brewed up a sleeping draught to slip into her wine at dinner.

Getting up from her vanity, Evie crossed her room to the door and poked her head out into the hallway.

“Mooom?” she called as loudly as she could. No response. “Mom, I’m about to go to bed without washing my makeup off first!” she cried down the hall. Still nothing. If that didn’t rouse her mother up to come lecture her about proper skin care, then she must really be out. Still, it was a large castle. Evie knew her mother probably couldn’t hear her from her room on a normal night. So she walked out into the hall, creeping tentatively closer to her mother’s chambers.

She screamed at the top of her lungs. Then waited. And waited. And waited. Even still, nothing.

Satisfied with her work, Evie hurried back to her own bedroom and pushed her door to, leaving a small crack so it would be easier to open later. She was confident there would be no interruptions tonight. She and her “friends” could get as loud as they wanted.

She sat back down at her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her look. She wore her hair down, loosely curled but combed out, and no braids in sight. And her face was adorned with plenty of makeup. Heavy focus on the eyes, and her red lips.

On her body, she wore nothing but a thin midnight blue nightie and matching panties. She could imagine how lovely they’d looked when they were new. But now they sported several holes, and the lace was tearing away. But that was perfect for tonight. Harry had told her to wear something she wouldn’t be upset about getting torn.

Evie felt a shiver run down her spine as she remembered that part of the conversation. Her mind raced as she thought about what that meant. There were so many options, and each one got her more excited than the last. But she was getting ahead of herself, and her guests would be here soon. She had to be ready.

She finished her makeup and rushed over to her bed, turning on the lamp on the nightstand for a little extra light, and laid down on top of the covers. Settling down on her back, making sure her hair was fanned out elegantly on the pillows behind her, and gently tugging the nightie down as though trying to protect her modesty. She folded her hands together over her stomach and closed her eyes.

Her heart hammered in her chest, anticipation already making her excited for what was to come. All she had to do now was wait.

Fortunately, she wasn’t waiting for long.

Only a few minutes later, her ears picked up on the sound of boots scuffling across the stone floor of the hallway. Inching closer, ever so closer, until…

The door creaked, then slowly swung open. She kept her eyes shut, but could feel the presence of other people in the room. She heard the door shut again, and the lock latch into place, before the footsteps approached her bed.

“Well, well, what do we have here, Harry?” Evie heard Uma ask in a hushed tone.

“Mm, a wee princess that’s all ours for the taking,” Harry responded. Evie could just hear the desire dripping in his voice, and she knew he was as excited for this as she was. Another shiver of anticipation ran through her body, and she wondered if the other two noticed.

“Harry, give her a wakeup call. I bet she’ll be real happy to see us,” Uma said, still keeping her voice low.

“My pleasure, captain…”

Evie’s eyes flew open as Harry’s hand covered her mouth. The bed dipped beside her and before she knew it, Harry Hook was straddling her, his legs bracketing her body and keeping her in place. His other hand shot out to grab her wrists when she started squirming underneath him.

“Hiya, princess,” Harry greeted cheerfully, baring his teeth at Evie in the way that Evie was sure was supposed to be a grin. She stared up into Harry’s icy, black rimmed eyes with a wide, frantic gaze of her own. She kicked her legs uselessly, twisting back and forth on the bed like she was trying to buck Harry off.

“Better settle down there, princess,” Uma said, coming around to the other side of the bed, her gaze fixed steadily on Evie’s face. “Might make Harry think you don’t like him… You don’t wanna hurt his feelings, do you?”

Evie tried to respond, only for her words to come out muffled against Harry’s palm.

“Sorry, lass, what was that?” Harry asked, removing his hand from Evie’s mouth.

“Help!” Evie cried out, thrashing underneath Harry to no avail. “Someone, please, help-” Harry covered her mouth again.

“Aww, captain, I don’t think she wants to play with us,” Harry said, looking over at Uma with a pout on his face.

Uma just laughed - cold and unamused. “I don’t think she has a choice…” she replied, kneeling beside Evie and Harry, and looking down to meet the blue haired girl’s eyes. “Look at me, princess, so I know you’re hearing me…” Evie’s eyes darted between Uma and Harry before settling on Uma. “Good girl… Now, Harry is going to take his hand away again. And you’re not going to scream. Because if you scream, you’re getting the hook. And you’re going to wish it was just our hands on you. Is that clear?”

Evie nodded her head.

Uma smiled.

“Good girl,” she said again. Uma looked at Harry, nodded, and Harry drew his hand back.

“Why are you doing this?” Evie asked, her voice small as she looked up at Uma with wet, tear filled eyes. “If - if this is because of Mal, then-”

Uma cut her off with another laugh, rolling her eyes at the mention of Mal. “It’s not always all about your precious little leader, you know?” she sneered.

“Then - then what?” Evie asked desperately. “Gold? Jewels? Potions? Whatever you want, I can give you, I just-” She tried her best to sit up underneath Harry, but his free hand caught her shoulder and forced her back down to the mattress, pinning her there.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Uma asked.

“We’re not interested in money or magic, princess…” Harry replied, leaning down closer to Evie. Evie turned her head all the way to the side to avoid being face to face with the crazed pirate. “Not when you’re the shiniest bit of treasure on this miserable rock…” He darted his tongue out and licked a stripe along Evie’s neck, causing her to squeal and try to push him off again.

Harry didn’t slip, just repositioned himself so his legs were pinning Evie’s down, and forced her arms up, pinning her hands to the bed above her head. Leaving her stretched out and exposed underneath him.

“We want you, princess,” Uma said. She reached a hand out, and Evie gasped as it came in contact with one of her breasts. Even through the thin fabric, Uma’s touch felt electric. “And we’re going to have you…” She squeezed, and Evie bit back a moan. “Any way we fucking want you.” She pinched Evie’s nipple harshly between her thumb and forefinger, and Evie couldn’t hold back her cry of pleasure this time. “And by the time we’re done with you, you aren’t going to want to be with anyone else ever again…”

“And you’ll be begging us for more, princess,” Harry grinned, rocking his hips down to grind against Evie. “Mm, you’ve already got me at half mast, and we haven’t even had any real fun yet…”

“Harry, up,” Uma ordered. “I’ve got her.”

Harry frowned, but was quick to follow his captain’s orders. He released Evie’s arms and climbed off of her, standing to the side of the bed to await further instructions.

With her newfound freedom, Evie tried to seize the opportunity to escape. She scurried down towards the foot of the bed since there were no pirates in that direction, wondering how far she could get before she was stopped.

Not far.

She didn’t even get off the bed before something was yanking her back in. Not hands, either. Something cold, and wet, slithered their way around her arms and forced them behind her back.

“Aw, where do you think you’re going, princess?” Uma cooed, coming up behind Evie on the bed. Evie craned her head back to look at Uma, only to see four tentacles protruding from around Uma’s waist. Two of which ended encircled around her wrists. “Now you can play with Harry all you want. He knows his own strength, and knows how to follow orders. But I’m still getting the hang of these babies. Sometimes it’s like they have a mind of their own. I’d hate for you to struggle too much and get yourself hurt. But you won’t let that happen, will you?”

“You two are fucking sick…” Evie whispered, glaring back at Uma.

“You knew that already, didn’t you, lass?” Harry laughed.

Uma pushed Evie forward, and she had to quickly swing a leg out in front of herself to step onto the floor and not just faceplant off the edge of the bed. Her arms were folded together behind her back, Uma’s tentacles wrapped tightly around them. Then they were tugging downward, and Evie was forced onto her knees on the floor in front of the pirate.

“Now this is a pretty sight, to be sure…” Harry purred, reaching out towards Evie. She flinched away, but all he did was brush the backs of his fingers over her blush pink cheek. “Don’t be so jumpy, princess… You’re in good hands. We’re gonna take care of you. Promise. But I’ve just been dying to have those ruby red lips wrapped around my cock…”

Evie couldn’t help herself. She glanced back towards Harry’s crotch when she heard him unzip. Her eyes went wide when he pulled his cock out. Even half hard, he looked bigger than any of the old men Evie had been with before. She wondered what she was in store for once he was fully erect.

“Like what you see?” Harry asked with a smirk, languidly stroking himself as he looked down at Evie.

Evie didn’t respond.

Harry stroked his fingers over Evie’s cheek again, then pressed two of his fingertips against her bottom lip. When she didn’t open up automatically, Harry forced his fingers into her mouth.

Evie decided to have a little fun of her own. She held her mouth open for a few seconds before nipping sharply at Harry’s fingers, causing him to shriek in surprise and yank them back out.

“Why you fucking brat!” he growled, drawing his hand back and bringing it down sharply across Evie’s cheek. Her head snapped to the side, before Uma grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at Harry, who now stood looming over her, hook in hand. He brought the hook up to her face, letting the tip just barely press against her pouty bottom lip. She felt Uma lean in closer, and her hand come up to grab her chin.

“We’re trying to be patient with you, princess…” Uma said, her face right beside Evie’s. “But you only get so many chances. You try to take a bite of either of us again, and the only thing you’re gonna be sucking on is that hook. Is that what you want?”

Evie shook her head as best as she could in Uma’s tight hold.

“Didn’t think so.” Uma released Evie, sitting back on the edge of the bed where she’d been. “She won’t give you any more trouble, Harry.”

Harry nodded his head, setting his hook back on the nightstand. He grabbed his cock again, stroking himself as he moved closer to Evie. Evie tried to lean back, but he grabbed her by the hair and kept her in place.

He stilled his hand on his shaft, positioning himself right in front of Evie’s lips. Again, she didn’t open, so he pressed the head of his cock firmly against her lips.

“Come on, princess, you know the deal…” he murmured. “My cock or my hook. What’ll it be?”

Evie looked up, locking eyes with Harry before slowly parting her lips for him.

“Good choice…” Harry replied with a satisfied grin. He kept his grip firm in Evie’s hair, guiding her down around his cock and moaning as she took more of him in.

Evie let Harry guide her movements, keeping her throat relaxed and breathing through her nose as Harry filled her mouth. She never had a problem with this before, but no guy she’d been with before could compete with Harry. It was more than she was used to, but she still did her best to take it all. Until there were only a couple inches left to go, and her gag reflex got the better of her.

Evie sputtered on Harry’s cock, her body convulsing as she gagged around him. She was pulled back by Uma’s tentacles, giving her a break and letting her catch her breath.

“More than you’re used to, princess?” Uma asked. “Not surprised… Harry’s pretty well endowed, huh?”

“Too big…” Evie whispered, licking her lips as she looked up at Harry.

“Aw, you’re making me blush,” Harry laughed, stroking his fingers through Evie’s hair and pulling her back in. “You just need a little practice, princess. And we plan on giving you that.”

Evie took in a deep breath, then parted her lips again.

“See? You’re already learning…” Uma smiled. She reached past Evie to point out the red smear of lipstick on Harry’s cock. “That’s your personal best so far, princess. That’s what you need to get past to make Harry happy. Think you can do that?”

Evie nodded her head. As soon as Uma dropped her hand, Evie was back on Harry’s cock, taking him down as far as she did before, and still gagging when she reached that same spot.

“Whoa there, lass, don’t make yourself throw up now…” Harry said, taking a small step back. He held Evie’s head in place and started to fuck her mouth instead. Shallow thrusts, only a few inches in and out at a time. And sinking in a little more with every forward thrust, until they reached the same spot. Evie tensed up, expecting to gag again, but Harry slid in another half inch without a problem. She was sure she could take the whole thing now, but Harry pulled his hips back.

Evie let out a muffled whine, shuffling forward on her knees, desperate to keep him inside. Harry and Uma both laughed.

“I think she wants more, Harry…” Uma mused. “Stay where you are. Let her do the work.”

Evie steadied herself, taking a deep breath in through her nose before starting to bob her head on Harry’s cock again. Going at a faster pace than Harry had been, determined to do what the two pirates asked of her. As she sank down closer to the base of Harry’s cock, she felt something on the back of her head. Uma’s hand? No, Uma’s boot. Evie moaned around Harry’s length, causing him to make a similar noise in response.

“That’s it, girlie…” Harry whispered, watching with rapt fascination as Uma pushed Evie in further. Until her lips reached the base of Harry’s shaft, and her nose pressed against his lower abdomen. Evie didn’t gag this time, keeping her composure. And feeling rather proud of herself for swallowing down her biggest cock yet.

She thought they would let her go now, but neither pirate pulled back. And when Harry did move, it was to reach up and pinch her nose shut, cutting off her one source of oxygen at the moment. Evie stared up at Harry with wide eyes, but tried her best to stay calm.

But even as Evie’s lungs started to ache for air, Harry didn’t let up. She tried her best to pull back from his cock, just to be stopped by Uma’s firm hold. She squirmed between the two of them, her face turning red as real tears streamed down her face.

Just as Evie started to see stars and feel her head swimming, she was released. She fell back against Uma, gulping in as big a breath as she could manage. A thick rope of drool fell from the corner of her mouth, dripping down to her chest.

“You didn’t think we were gonna go easy on you, did you?” Uma asked. She reached around Evie, running her hand through the mess of saliva on her body and bringing it up to smear over her face, smudging her lipstick and eye makeup even more. “Not so pretty now, are you, princess?”

Evie didn’t respond, but cried out as Uma yanked her hair to make her look up at Harry again. Harry rested a hand atop her head, holding her steady as he jerked himself to completion. He came with a low, guttural moan, spilling out over Evie’s face. She parted her lips for him again, but barely any of his seed made it into her mouth. He seemed to be trying his best to get it over as much of her face as possible.

When Harry finished, Uma reached up to run her fingers through the mess on Evie’s cheek, then held it up to her mouth so she could lick them clean. Evie easily obliged, humming at the taste of Harry on her tongue.

“How’s he taste, princess?” Uma asked. She pulled her tentacles back, leaving Evie on the floor.

“Salty…” Evie whispered, turning to look up at the pirate queen.

Uma laughed at that, leaning down over Evie so their faces were only inches apart. “Mind if I see for myself?” Without waiting for a response, she darted her tongue out and licked over Evie’s other cheek. Lapping up whatever she could of the mess Harry left, leaving a few kisses here and there as well. When she arrived at Evie’s lips, she kissed her hungrily and let her tongue delve deep into her mouth, sharing the taste of Harry between them before Uma pulled back.

“Harry, get her back on the bed,” Uma instructed. Harry leaned down and easily scooped Evie up in his arms, laying her back on the bed as Uma scooted back to give them room.

Evie let out a soft breath when her back hit the mattress, letting her eyes slip shut.

“You’re not trying to tap out now, are you, princess?” Uma asked, settling down next to her. “You think Harry is the only one that gets to come tonight?”

“Uma, please…” Evie rasped, blinking her eyes open to look at the pirate next to her. “You’ve made your point… You can tell everyone you conquered the princess. You can even throw it in Mal’s face if you want. Just, please, leave me be now…”

“You’re wasting your breath, lassie,” Harry chuckled, laying on Evie’s other side and essentially trapping her in the middle. “Once Uma’s set her mind on something, she won’t stop til she gets what she wants. She’s real hard headed that way.”

“Watch it,” Uma warned, fixing Harry with a pointed gaze before turning her attention back to Evie. “We aren’t monsters, you know?” She lazily ran the tip of her index finger up along Evie’s thigh, skipping over her underwear and drawing it up over her tight abdomen, pulling her nightie up with it. “We plan on playing fair here. You do something for us, we do something for you…”

Evie could feel goosebumps rising on her skin at Uma’s delicate touch, and the sound of her voice right in her ear. She did her best to push down any feelings of pleasure she had at the moment, focused on playing her role for the two pirates. She turned to Uma, narrowing her eyes in the best glare she could manage. “I don’t want anything from you,” she spat.

Uma’s expression hardened. She climbed on top of Evie, grabbing at the hem of her nightie in both hands and yanking hard, causing it to rip right up the middle. Another sharp pull and the worn fabric came apart at the top, exposing Evie’s breasts.

Evie squealed, quickly reaching up to cover herself.

“Getting shy, princess?” Uma asked, arching a brow at Evie. “That’s not like you.”

“Nah, we see the way you parade around the Isle like you own the place…” Harry whispered, leaning closer and kissing Evie’s neck. “Twirling around in those short skirts, showing off in those high heels…” He bit down rough on her earlobe, making Evie squeak. “Practically begging for some poor depraved soul to drag you into the nearest alleyway and have their way with you.”

“And then we come along, bringing the fun to you, and you wanna say no?” Uma asked. “You don’t wanna show us what you show off to everyone else? Fine. Harry, I bet your hook will pry her hands up without a problem. Just try not to scratch up her tits too much. I wanna keep them pretty.”

“No!” Evie cried, stopping Harry midreach for his hook. She dropped her hands, letting them rest by her sides and exposing herself fully for the pirates.

“Mm, no. Hands up. Hold onto the headboard,” Uma instructed. Evie obeyed, raising her hands up and gripping onto the wrought iron above her.

“There, now, that’s a good lass…” Harry whispered, laying back down beside her.

“Told you we wouldn’t need rope for this, Harry,” Uma said with a smirk towards Evie. “I knew it wouldn’t take much for you to follow orders. You want to be our good girl, don’t you?”

Evie nodded her head.

“Let me hear you say it.”

“I - I want to be your good girl…” she whispered.

“Does that mean you’re gonna stop fighting us?” Uma asked. Evie nodded again.

Satisfied with her answer, Uma leaned down over Evie’s body, rewarding her with kisses - over her neck, her collarbones, her chest, her breasts. She kissed, nipped, and sucked at every inch of Evie’s skin she could easily reach in this potion, leaving several marks in her wake.

Claiming Evie for her own.

When Uma’s focus shifted to Evie’s nipples, the princess let out a sigh of relief. The drafty castle air had them at full attention, and Evie had been silently begging Uma to give them some love this whole time.

Uma flicked the tip of her tongue over one, and Evie gasped sharply. She repeated the action, reaching her hand up to Evie’s other breast to give it similar attention. Evie writhed beneath her, letting out soft little cries and mewls of pleasure with every action Uma administered. She’d almost completely forgotten about Harry, who was practically drooling as he watched the girls play.

All too quickly, Uma pulled away, and Evie couldn’t help the little whine of disappointment that escaped from her mouth.

“Harry,” was all Uma had to say before her first mate dove in, eagerly fondling and licking Evie’s breasts like he’d been dying to do. He was much more erratic than Uma, not as precise, but it still drove Evie crazy all the same. He suckled hard on one nipple, pinching the other firmly between his fingers. When he finally let up, he immediately sank his teeth in the soft flesh of her breast, starting to suck a mark of his own onto her.

Evie didn’t even register the fact that he’d stopped groping her other breast, until she realized she could feel his hand creeping down lower and lower on her abdomen.

Uma noticed as well. A tentacle circled around Harry’s wrist and jerked his hand away. He pulled back from Evie with a groan. “C’mon, captain, please…” he begged, looking at Uma with pleading eyes. “I’m dying to get inside her treasure chest.”

“Settle down, Harry…” Uma warned. “You try to get ahead of me again, and you’ll be pulling up a chair to watch the rest of the show from the sidelines. Got it?”

Harry clenched his jaw, nodded his head.

��Good…” Uma went back to work, kissing her way down Evie’s body, stopping once she reached her panties. She hooked her fingers in the waistband, sliding them down Evie’s legs. “Fuck, Harry, these are soaked…” she chuckled, handing the tiny garment off to him. “Here. Your souvenir for the night.”

Harry happily took the prize from Uma, raising them up to his nose to smell them before starting to stroke his cock with Evie’s underwear in his hand.

Evie stared in awe at the pirate, wondering if it was all for show or if he was really into her like that. She didn’t have too much time to think though, as she felt Uma’s hands on her legs to spread them open. But, wanting to play their game a little longer, she did her best to keep them closed.

“Aww, baby, I thought we were past this…” Uma said. Faux sweetness dripping from her voice as she spoke. “Your body already gave you away… You’re soaking wet. You’re not just following orders anymore. You want this as bad as we do.”

Uma’s tentacles danced excitedly around her before two of them started circling around Evie’s legs. Slowly working their way up, ensnaring her in their clutches and tightening around her.

Evie cried out when her legs were forced apart. She struggled against them, but the tentacles held tight, preventing her from moving even an inch. She was completely exposed to Uma.

“You just love wriggling like a worm on a hook, don’t you?” Uma asked in an amused tone. “But, like I said…” She brought her hand up to Evie, running her finger through her wetness. She then held her finger out to Harry, letting him suck it clean. “You can’t lie to us, princess. You can’t pretend like you aren’t enjoying this. If you really hated what we were doing, you wouldn’t be this wet, would you?”

“Uma…” Evie couldn’t manage much more than that.

Uma decided to be nice, to stop teasing.

She plunged her tongue as deep into Evie as she could manage, wanting to taste her. Fucking her on her tongue, listening as Evie cried out with every move she made. She licked over Evie’s folds, working her way up to her clit. Taking a moment to catch her breath before darting her tongue out and flicking over it, causing Evie to arch halfway up off the bed. Uma reached up to pin her hips down, holding her firmly in place as she ate her out.

“Uma, I - I’m gonna - !” Evie couldn’t even finish her sentence before her orgasm hit. She’d been soaking wet and on edge this whole time, since before Harry and Uma even set foot in her room. Of course she wasn’t going to last long with Uma working her over so expertly.

Uma eagerly lapped up Evie’s juices as they came flooding out, pulling back when Evie relaxed and going in for another kiss. Letting Evie taste herself on her tongue.

Evie kissed back lazily, a small smile on her face when Uma pulled back.

“Thank you, captain…” she whispered.

“Mm, captain, huh? That’s nice to hear from you…” Uma smirked. “You’re welcome, princess. I told you we weren’t totally selfish. Every princess deserves to be pampered, doesn’t she?”

Evie nodded her head.

“Good. Because now it’s Harry’s turn to pamper you,” Uma informed her. She shifted to lay by Evie’s left side, while Harry moved down in between her legs.

“What - another? Already?” Evie asked, genuinely surprised by that.

“Not what you’re used to, huh?” Uma asked.

Evie shook her head.

“She told you we were gonna ruin you for anyone else,” Harry said, winking at Evie. He gripped her thighs, his nails biting into the soft flesh as he spread her legs open. He started lapping at her wet cunt, his face buried in the nest of soft blue curls that circled her. Just like with her breasts, Harry’s technique was wild and erratic. And just like before, Evie didn’t care. She still felt on edge despite the fact that she already came moments before. Everything Harry did felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

She was about to beg for more - Harry’s cock, his tongue, Uma’s fingers, just something inside her to make her feel whole. But before she could even form the words, she felt something circling her entrance. Something that didn’t feel like any of the above.

She looked over at Uma, following one of her tentacles to where it disappeared between her legs. She tried to look past Harry, watching as the tentacle seemed to give her a little wave before delving deep into her pussy.

“Fuck!” she screamed, her head falling back against the pillows. She bucked her hips wildly, doing her best to fuck herself on the strange new appendage. She could feel that thing writhing inside of her, moving around and curling in on itself, stretching her out in ways she never could’ve imagined before. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped onto the headboard for dear life.

Harry pulled back just to watch the show, and another tentacle came up to replace his mouth. The more pointed tip traced over her folds, then flicked over her clit, before one of the little suckers attached itself to the sensitive nub and sent a whole new shockwave of pleasure coursing throughout Evie’s body.

“Oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods!” Evie shrieked, clenching tight around Uma’s tentacle as her second orgasm hit.

Uma worked her through it, fucking her pussy and teasing her clit until Evie started to come down. She pulled her tentacles back, and a whole new flood of juices came rushing out of Evie. Harry leaned in to lick up what he could, still desperate for a taste of her.

Evie reached down between her legs, placing a hand on his head and weakly pushing him back. Harry took the hint, licking his lips and leaning over to kiss Uma, sharing Evie’s taste between them.

“Delicious, isn’t she, captain?” Harry asked with a grin. “The most delectable forbidden fruit…”

“Our sweet little poisoned apple,” Uma smirked. She looked back down at Evie, who was laying completely still, limp, and watching them with heavy lidded eyes. “Harry, I think our princess needs a real break. What do you think?”

“Aye, I think so, captain…” he replied, nodding his head.

Both pirates were still fully clothed, but that quickly changed. Uma pulled Harry in close, kissing him hungrily and starting to strip him out of his clothes. Harry did the same for Uma, the two of them easily shedding their various layers until they were left as naked as Evie.

Evie watched as Harry laid back on the bed and Uma climbed on top of him. She thought Uma was going to ride his cock, but she ended up straddling his face instead. Evie couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pair. Uma looked sexier than Evie had ever seen her, the soft golden lamplight dancing off her body as she rolled her hips down and fucked herself on Harry’s tongue in the way that felt best for her.

Harry held onto Uma’s thighs like they were his lifeline, letting her use him for her pleasure. Evie looked down, seeing his cock fully erect again and bobbing against his stomach as he moved under Uma. She sat up slowly, crawling down the bed to take Harry’s cock in her hand. Harry moaned into Uma as Evie started to stroke him, and again when she took him in his mouth.

Uma got herself off twice before dismounting, pulling Evie off of Harry as well. “Glad to see you’re finally embracing your role, princess,” she murmured, laying back against the pillows and pulling Evie on top of her. “But I promised Harry he’d get to come inside that royal cunt before the night was over. You don’t want me to break my promise, do you?”

Evie rapidly shook her head, licking her lips as she looked down at Uma. “But I haven’t gotten to taste you yet, captain…” she whispered.

“You’re a smart lass,” Harry said from behind her. “You can figure it out.” She felt his strong hands gripping her waist, and before she knew it she was being yanked back on the bed and closer to Harry. Putting her face to face with Uma’s soaked pussy.

Evie didn’t need to be told before diving in, exploring Uma’s grotto with her tongue. Uma’s hand tangled in her hair to hold her in place, letting her know she was doing a good job. She felt Harry move behind her, felt the dull head of his cock tracing over her slick cunt. She had no trouble taking him inside. She was so wet, even his impressive length slid in with ease.

He fucked her wildly from behind, alternating between scratching down her back and spanking her ass. Both actions caused Evie to clench tight around him, and made her little pussy feel that much more delectable to Harry.

Uma added her own sensation to the mix, letting a tentacle come down to play with Evie’s clit again. It all worked together to drive Evie crazy. She came twice more from their actions, and managed to make Uma come one more time. She felt exhausted, and was sure she wouldn’t even be able to keep her ass in the air if it weren’t for Harry’s firm grip on her hips.

Harry’s own orgasm hit him a few moments later, and he grunted as he emptied himself deep inside of Evie. She whimpered at the sensation of his cock twitching inside her, and when he pulled out, she could feel his cum slowly trickling out and down her leg.

Harry and Uma pretty much had to manhandle Evie’s pliant body, to help her lay down comfortably on the bed. She didn’t protest - she barely even registered it was happening. Uma laid down beside her, while Harry retrieved a rag from his pants pocket to wipe off Evie’s face, then between her legs. Evie whined as the rough cloth rubbed over her sensitive skin, closing her legs tight when Harry finished and turning to curl up against Uma.

“Stay the night?” she asked quietly, looking up at Uma with pleading eyes.

“Think the crew can survive a night without us?” Harry asked, laying back down on the bed and spooning Evie from behind.

“Probably not,” Uma replied. “But I can’t say no to our princess.” She reached over to turn out the light, pulling the covers up over the three of them and hugging Evie close. “How do you feel, princess?”

Evie smiled at the question, not used to hearing it after something like this.

“Completely satisfied.”

#descendants #disney descendants #descendants fic #evie grimhilde #evie descendants #harry hook #uma triskelion #uma descendants #uma #evie x uma #evie x harry #evie x harry x uma #harry x uma #my stuff #my fics #minors dni #my first experiment with smut #hopefully will be posting more in the future

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impishtubist · 2 years

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Wolfstar raising Harry this and Wolfstar raising Harry that well what about Wolfstar raising Neville 👀

#catie is off the hook because they already wrote this #but the rest of you are on thin ice #bonus: wolfstar raising harry AND neville #bonus bonus: jegulus raising harry and wolfstar raising neville #also i'm kidding about there being too much wolfstar raising harry because there ISN'T #and 90% of it is wolfstar smut and then 10% is actually raising harry #so disappointing

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humaforever · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Descendants (Disney Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Hook/Uma Characters: Harry Hook, Uma (Disney) Additional Tags: Fluff, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Implied Sexual Content, No Smut, Implied/Referenced Sex Summary:

Harry and Uma have discovered a new part of their relationship

#This might be considered like mild smut #but also not really #idk #huma #Harry Hook #Uma #fanfiction

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arewordsenough · 7 months

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Rated Explicit - One Shot (2.6k) - M/M - Explicit Sexual Content

Summary: Chad's sneaking around gives him the chance to play with all kinds of swords.

Based on a prompt from one of my readers.

Featured groups & pairings: Chad Charming/Harry Hook/Gil

Key Tags: Threesome, Cum as Lube, Ass to Mouth

#descendants fanfiction #chad charming #harry hook #gil descendants #my edit #my writing #gay smut

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finelinefae · 4 months

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the final [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n and harry reach the final in the academy slam

word count: 12.2k

contains: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, tennis rivals, smut (oral f-receiving, first time for h and yn, size kink, mostly just soft), travel anxiety, brief medical talk

a/n: extremely sorry for the wait but i hope this is worth it. thank you for being here and reading this little series. it means the world and I'm obsessed with all of u <33

this is the final part of the game, read part 3 here

. . .

In any relationship, Y/N had always believed she was the dominant, reliable, independent partner. In all of her friendships, family dynamics and even teamwork, the people around her looked to her for something that sometimes she couldn’t even give. Y/N was constantly pulling pieces of herself apart to give to those around her and at the end of the day she found herself with nothing left for herself. She was constantly burnt out, running on little energy to make it through to the end of the week.

But with Harry, her whole world felt like a sanctuary, a blue sky hidden from everybody else by grey clouds.

When she thought she knew all there was to know about herself, she was learning so much more through her relationship.

She learnt that it was important to share things, that just because Harry could read her face better than most people doesn’t mean he could read her mind. She hadn’t realised how closed off she was about her problems until Harry had found her panicking outside her classroom before an exam. It was that moment when he told her he needed her to communicate these things so he could help her in any way he could.

She learnt to accept that her love language was physical touch. She couldn’t keep her hands off of her boyfriend. No matter what they were doing or where they were standing, she was desperate to touch Harry in some way and he was obsessed with it. He loved how much she wanted him to hold her and how often she’d gravitate towards him to put her hand on his arm or hook their pinkies together. It was probably the reason why her lips were constantly chapped because she was always desperate to kiss him whenever they were near each other. Harry had told her once that our love languages developed from what we didn’t receive so much of as children, which made sense because Y/N couldn’t remember the first or last time her parents had held her.

She learned that arguments were healthy, even when they didn't feel like it in the moment. Just because Harry was her boyfriend and their feelings for each other were strong, they still ended up bickering over little things. It usually happened when one of them was having a bad day; they were both people who felt things very strongly, and sometimes that clashed. But they made a promise that, no matter what they were arguing about, big or small, they'd never go to bed angry with each other.

The biggest lesson Y/N was learning was something that she had yet to come to terms with. Having feelings for somebody was already a new thing for her, especially feelings as strong as the ones she had for Harry. She’d never been so attached to somebody in her whole life. Sometimes when she looked at him she felt like her heart was going to explode from how much it ached to be right by him. Y/N had always believed that she couldn’t feel much more than what she felt already, that this was how good it would get- and she was okay with that. But with every passing day, Y/N found herself floating higher and higher above ground as her heart began to inflate with such an intense emotion. Every morning, she felt like she was levitating right out of bed at the thought of seeing Harry.

It wasn’t until one particular day that she realised she was in love with her boyfriend.

She had woken up before him for once. Harry had always been an early bird, and so was she before him, but she loved staying in bed with him, basking in his warmth as he cradled her to him like he was cocooning her from the rest of the world and keeping her to himself for those brief few hours in the early morning.

She was going to wake him up to get ready for school but she stopped herself. Y/N had seen many versions of Harry her entire life but this was the first time when she looked at him and saw the person who had carved a nook into her heart for himself looking so peaceful and relaxed. She’d never really thought too hard into it before, willing to let herself fall into this relationship and see where she ended up, but that morning when she looked at him - really looked at him- she realised there was only one person in this entire world who could make her feel like she was still dreaming and that was the person she loved.

Of course, she hadn’t told him that. Never. Y/N felt genuine fear at the thought of having to tell him how she felt because everything she had ever truly loved she’d had to either work for or it had never loved her back as much. Surely loving someone as much as she loved Harry couldn’t be this easy.

“Hey,” Sarah beamed, leaning against the lockers as Y/N replaced her books for her next classes.

“Hey,” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced at her shirt, “What are you wearing?”

“Do you like them?” Sarah grinned, proudly.

It was a white t-shirt with a tennis racket and a cut out of Y/N’s head plastered onto a tennis ball. The words ‘Y/N 4 court queen’ were written in red.

“Please tell me you only got one of these?” Y/N begged, feeling embarrassed.

“Well they’re prototypes so there’s only four,” Sarah explained and as she did Mitch walked towards them wearing the exact same shirt.

He put a hand around Sarah’s shoulders and kissed the side of her head before looking at Y/N, “How do you like the shirts? Me and Sarah spent all week designing them?”

“You designed these together? Aren’t you meant to be like horny teenagers or something?” Y/N tried not to laugh at their matching shirts as they stood side by side.

“We can be both,” Mitch shrugs.

“Who else is wearing these?” A throat cleared from behind them and Y/N turned around to find her boyfriend wearing his white school shirt unbuttoned to reveal the same t-shirt underneath.

“Hi baby,” Harry grinned, walking towards her and kissing her lips. Y/N’s hands went to his waist as he pushed her up against the lockers.

“And I thought we were bad,” Mitch said, “C’mon babe, I’ve got a few ideas for some more items we could sell.”

Harry pulled away as Mitch and Sarah walked away. Y/N looked up at him as he loomed over her, he was just so goddamn tall. “Missed you,” He murmured, kissing her quickly.

“You saw me this morning,” Y/N giggled.

“Hmmm,” He hooked his finger around her necklace and pulled her closer, “Do y’ like my shirt?”

Y/N laughed, “I can’t believe you actually wore it.”

“Anything to support my girlfriend,” He winks. She’d never get tired of hearing him call her that. “Did you hear anything about the Academy?”

Y/N shook her head. After winning against Astrid, she was now onto the final where she would play Courtney Avalon the only girl in the competition who had been picked to compete in a Junior Slam at fourteen. Y/N wondered who thought it fair for her to compete but she wouldn’t let it ruin her chances of winning, she’d just train even harder than she already was.

Unlike the previous games, the final wouldn’t be hosted at one of the academies instead it would be hosted elsewhere at a tennis club where professionals would play. There was no way of knowing where they’d be going, it could be in a different country for all they knew, but the final was a little under a month away and she still hadn’t heard anything about it.

“S okay,” Harry knew she was overthinking the situation as he traced his thumb over her pulse the way he always did when she was nervous about something, “We just train the way we always have,”

“Do you think I’ll win?” Y/N asked.

“I know you will,” Harry replied.

That same afternoon, Y/N was sitting in the library after school to finish her English essay on her computer when a notification appeared in her email. Her heartbeat hastened as she clicked on the email with ‘Academy Slam Final Location’ written in big bold letters as the subject headline.

She clicked on it and her eyes flicked through the long-winded introduction before they landed on the location.

Paris, France.

She was going to Paris.

With Harry.

She tried to keep her excitement at bay as she threw all her belongings into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She made a quick exit out of the library and ran towards the parking lot where she knew Harry would be.

Her eyes landed on him and she couldn’t help but laugh before running over to him and leaping into his open arms. “Paris,” She said and his eyes lit up.

“We’re going to Paris?” Harry asked, seeking confirmation.

Y/N nodded, “The same place they play the French Open.”

Realisation dawned on both of their faces as they understood the significance of this moment. Y/N would be playing at the same club where Harry was supposed to play before his injury. She waited to see his reaction, and a small grin formed on his face before he leaned in to kiss her.

“You are going to win this,” He says like a promise.

She nods, the weight of the moment sinking in deeper. The pressure now felt even greater than before, driven by a desire to win not just for herself, but for Harry too.

. . .

Y/N sat on the bonnet of her boyfriend’s Audi with her boyfriend standing between her dangling legs as they made out, “Are you actually going to teach me anything?” Y/N laughed, pushing him away.

Harry pretended to check the invisible watch on his wrist before shrugging, “We have time,” He leaned in to kiss her again but she playfully pushed his face away and slid off the bonnet.

They walked hand in hand to the court where Y/N put her bag down on the ground and pulled out her racket. Her eyes caught sight of Harry taking a bucket of tennis balls out of the storage shed. He looked particularly cosy today in his navy sweater and white shorts he was wearing, his hair was a little dishevelled mainly due to the fact that she had run her fingers through them for the past thirty minutes.

“Okay, so should we do a few drills?” Harry posed the question.

Y/N shook her head, “I wanna try something different today,” Harry frowned as she passed him a racket, “I want to play against you.”

She could tell Harry seemed unsettled as soon as the words left her mouth, “Y/N, you already know about my injury,”

“Just a little back and forth, if it hurts too much we can stop straight away,” She tried, hoping he would say yes.

Harry took one look at his girlfriend, seeing the pleading look on her face. Even though he knew she wasn’t forcing him, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. “Fine, one game.”

Y/N squealed and ran to the end of the court she always played on, getting into position. She watched as Harry rolled his ankles and bounced up and down to get used to the feeling of his feet on the court. He took a tennis ball out of his pocket and bounced it on the ground.

With a playful chuckle, Harry tossed the ball into the air and served. Y/N lunged for it, returning it with a swift swing of her racket. The rally began, and each shot was met with cheers and laughter from them both.

Despite Harry's injury, he moved across the court with surprising agility, his competitive spirit shining through. Y/N knew he was at a disadvantage but still, she was in awe of how quickly he responded to her hits. Every time Harry would run for the ball, she’d find herself distracted by the muscles in his calves and thighs and the concentration on his face when the ball would go to her end of the court.

In the end, Y/N came out on top with one score above Harry’s when they decided on the last round as Harry could tell the pain was beginning to stir in his leg. She walked over to him and put out his hand to shake his, “Great game,”

Harry rolled his eyes, taking her hand and pulling her into him, “You’re too pretty, you distracted me.”

“I’ve heard that one too many times before,” Y/N smirked.

“From who?” Harry frowned.

“Oh just people,” She began to walk away but Harry quickly ran up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around.

“Harry,” Y/N laughed, loudly, both of them ignoring the watchful eyes of passing students leaving school late.

He placed her back down on the ground and she looked up at him again, biting her lip, “Get back to those drills,” He shook his head.

“Yes sir,” She saluted but Harry stilled.

“I didn’t know you were into that,”

“What?” Y/N frowned before realising, “Ew don’t be so gross Harry,” She hit him on the arm and stormed away.

“What else am I supposed to think?” Harry threw his arms up in the air, biting back a laugh. She turned around and threw a tennis ball at him before grabbing another one and doing the same again, “Oh c’mon baby, I can live out your coach/student fantasies if that’s what you're asking,”

“You’re an animal!” She hissed.

Harry laughed and jogged towards her, kissing her quickly and running through their usual training.

. . .

Two weeks had passed until Y/N and Harry were finally on their way to Paris. Mitch and Sarah had dropped them off at the airport in the early hours of the morning with sleep still in their eyes. Y/N would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t nervous about playing without her best friend cheering for her in the stands. But Sarah promised she would watch every second of the live stream from their dorm room and cheer her on from there.

She’d also tried to call and text her parents to tell them she had made it to the final and she’d be going to Paris, inviting them to come along even though she already knew they would decide not to. She hadn’t spoken to them since the dinner and even though she was the happiest she’d ever been, part of her ached, wishing her parents cared enough to see her that way.

Harry stood beside her as they waited in line to board the aeroplane. They had originally booked economy flights but Harry was insistent they upgrade even though the flight was only an hour long.

They were both dressed rather comfortably for the flight. It was Y/N’s first time wearing a piece of his clothing, a brown knitted sweatshirt he offered her to wear this morning. She couldn’t deny the rush of excitement she felt when he tugged it over her head and kissed her forehead, “Pretty,” He said and smiled.

But despite their comfy attire, Y/N couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with Harry’s fingers as they stood in line. She was nervous, biting the inside of her cheek and trying to ignore the sounds of the planes taking off outside. It was her first time flying and even though she was excited about going away to Paris, she hadn’t considered the prospect of flying and how nerve-wracking it would be.

“Harry,” Y/N tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him. He was holding both of their carry-ons, his black bag in his hand and her duffle on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sensing her nerves.

“Will we be okay?” She blushes, feeling embarrassed at her question, “On the plane I mean?”

Harry’s eyes soften, “Of course,” He assures, “It’s the safest way to travel.”

“Okay,” She nods, before saying his name again, “Harry?”

“Yes baby?”

“You promise we’ll be okay?”

He smiles, putting their bags on the floor and taking both of her hands in his. He squeezes her fingers when he feels how cold they are, “Promise, promise.”

“Okay well if you’re lying I’ll probably never speak to you again.”

Harry chuckles, “I mean if I’m lying and the plan crashes then that’s probably true.”

Y/N frowns, “Don’t talk about crashing,”

“What? You bought it up.”

When they finally board the plane, Y/N immediately feels claustrophobic when she realises how small it is, “They’re loading us into a sardine can,” She mutters to herself and hears Harry laugh as he walks in front of her.

They finally reach their seats with Y/N right by the window and Harry in the seat next to her. Harry places their bags under the seats in front and moves to buckle his belt. “Harry?” Y/N says his name again. He glances at her and sees how pale her face is, “I’m really nervous.”

He felt his heart clench, it wasn’t often that Y/N admitted to feeling nervous or afraid of something. Hearing the shake in her voice made him consider getting off the plane and taking her back home again.

“Hey,” Harry cupped the side of her cheek, “Y’ got nothing to be afraid of sweet girl, everything’s gonna be fine. Might feel a little strange when the plane takes off but we’re safe and I’m right here with you.”

“I don’t know about this Harry,” Her eyes dart around and he knows she’s getting into a panic the more she thinks about it too much.

“Y/N,” Harry says her name gently, “Look at me baby,” His thumb rubs the skin under her eye and her eyes dart to him, “Can you feel this?” He gently wraps his fingers around her wrist and moves her hand to wrap around his own wrist until the pads of her fingers find his pulse.

Y/N nods, her eyes glistening, “Can you feel that?” He hopes the feel of his pulse will calm her down, “That’s it, just breathe and calm down everything’s gonna be fine.”

“It’s going to be fine,” She echoes his words as though trying to inscribe them into her own mind.

“M right here,” He comforts her, “You think I’d let anything happen to you after I just got you?”

Y/N smiles at that, “No,” She whispers, “You’re too stubborn.”

Harry grins, “Only when it comes to you.”

Y/N’s nerves were overwhelming as the plane began to move. She glanced out the window, watching the ground blur as they gained speed. Harry noticed her unease and reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“What the fuck!” Y/N blurted when the plane lifted off the ground, loud enough for everyone to hear, “This is so not normal.”

Harry snorted a laugh, “Y’ doing just fine baby,” He rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand.

Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as the plane tilted, a whimper escaping past her lips when she took one peek out the window to see the clouds in the sky. “Isn’t it pretty?” Harry asked, ignoring how tightly she was squeezing his fingers until the point of turning blue.

“It’s a lot prettier with my feet on the ground,” Y/N responds, refusing to relax until the plane landed.

. . .

Y/N was in awe as they stood in the hotel lobby of the hotel they would be staying in for the next week or so. Harry had insisted he be in charge of choosing where they were staying as he had been to Paris plenty of times and knew all the best spots. Y/N didn’t argue with him, it gave her one less thing to stress about and she was never any good at making decisions anyway.

The receptionist handed him two key cards and Harry rolled both of their suitcases into the elevator as Y/N followed closely behind. “Are our rooms next to each other?” Y/N wondered, admiring the lights in the elevator as they went up to the seventh floor.

Harry’s eyes widened for a second but then they twinkled with mischief. She noticed him biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to laugh. “Is that what you want two rooms?” He asked and Y/N’s cheeks flushed.

“W-well I d-didn’t want to assume,” She stuttered, feeling embarrassed.

Harry handed her both room keys, “Room 764,” He motioned her out of the elevator when it reached their floor and she walked ahead, scanning the numbers on the doors as she did.

Eventually, she got to room 764 and stopped. Harry was still rounding the corner with both of their suitcases so she waved the key over the scanner and saw the light turn green but instead of opening the door, she waited for it to lock again. Switching to the other key, she repeated the action of waving it over the lock only to see it flash green again.

This time she did walk through the door, putting both their bags on the ground as soon as she stepped inside. Her mouth fell open when she saw the room they’d be staying in.

Y/N had stayed in fancy hotels before thanks to her parents but this was something she had never seen before in her life. It had a high ceiling and a chandelier hanging in the middle. White curtains hung from the windows with a view of Paris right outside their window. She walked into the bathroom to see marble countertops and a deep bathtub with a separate glass-enclosed shower.

After taking everything in, she walked back into the bedroom where her eyes landed on the king-sized bed - one bed for two people.

The sight of it made Y/N’s mouth dry. It was her first time sharing a space with any boy, let alone her boyfriend, for longer than one night. Although she’d been spending a lot of time together, this was the first time Y/N would be sleeping beside him, waking up next to him, and getting ready with him. In fact, this whole trip they were all each other had.

“Do you like it?” Harry came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.

Y/N spun round and clung to him, “Thank you,” She whispered, hoping he couldn’t feel the nerves radiating from her.

“I was thinking we go out and get something to eat and then maybe walk by the river. We’ll be training for the next few days so,” She sighed, longing to just stay in the room with him holding her the entire time.

“I’d like that,” She sighs, eyes closing.

Harry chuckles lowly, she feels the vibrations from his chest, “Y sure?”

“Mhm,”

Harry smiles even though she can’t see, “Or we can order room service and stay here?”

Y/N seems to melt against him as he rubs circles on her back, “I like that idea a lot more.”

She was pretty sure Harry had ordered everything off the menu in the time it took her to unpack her suitcase. She smiled to herself when she saw their shoes side by side at the door when she went to put her trainers beside them.

It wasn’t long before hours passed and Y/N was wrapped up in a plush, white bathrobe with Harry’s shirt and her pyjama shirt on underneath. A cart with empty plates of what once was full of an array of desserts and sides was cast off to one side as Y/N lay on top of Harry with a full belly. The TV played lowly in the back, Harry's hands playing with the ends of her long, loose hair. The sky had turned dark with the lights of Paris lighting the city.

“Y’ sleepy baby?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek and lifting her head like she was a little kitten so he could see her face.

Y/N hummed, nuzzling her cheek against his hand and curling into his side. Her hand slid up his torso to fiddle with the cross necklace around her neck. “Go to sleep,” He kisses the top of her head, “Got a long day tomorrow.”

Tomorrow they’d be off to the tennis club to train for the final at the end of the week. Harry had picked a hotel that was a ten-minute drive away just in case they ended up spending long hours into the night working on Y/N’s technique like they did when they were at Crestwood.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry rubbed soothing circles on her hip to try and lull her to sleep. The outside world seemed irrelevant in that moment, he felt as though he could lay there forever in this comforting bubble they had created together.

“Goodnight Harry,” Y/N mumbled, clutching his t-shirt.

“Goodnight baby,” He whispered, feeling the happiest he had ever been.

. . .

“Somebody pinch me, I feel like I’m dreaming,” Y/N gaped as they walked through the tennis club. She felt Harry pinch the skin above her elbow, “Not literally,” She huffed.

After a blissful night's sleep, Y/N awoke to her face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck as both of his arms held her tightly to him throughout the night. Sleep had always been Y/N’s worst enemy but she genuinely considered calling off today and just laying there with him.

They booked a cab before getting ready which would take them to the tennis club. They had planned a morning session of training so they could spend the remainder of the afternoon exploring Paris properly this time instead of looking out the window of the back of a taxi or from their hotel room where they had spent yesterday afternoon lounging around.

Harry smirked, “You haven’t even seen the best part yet,” He leads her to a big glass window in the lobby.

Y/N immediately gasps, pressing her nose against the glass wanting it to disappear so she could walk straight through it and across to the Roland Garros which just so happened to be right next door.

“I’m going to be there one day Harry,” Y/N says with the upmost determination in her voice.

Harry nods in agreement, “You will,” He says and that makes her believe it even more.

They walk hand in hand to the courts, Y/N in a white tennis dress and matching visor and Harry wearing a white polo shirt and white shorts. They were both wearing black sunglasses to cover their eyes, Harry snaked his arm around her shoulders, Y/N’s fingers automatically threading through his, as they walked outside.

They seemed to pause at the same time when they saw one of the courts already occupied. The sound of the ball speeding through the air and hitting the racket of the girl running to hit it in time broke through the air.

Y/N watched as the girl moved with such agility and force, meeting every hit made by her coach with her own. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, no one she had ever played against.

With one final hit across, the ball landed somewhere past her opponent and the game ended. The girl grabbed a towel and wiped it across her forehead, smiling as she took a waterbottle from the cooler. Her head raised, Y/N’s eyes casting away in hopes she wouldn’t come over but it was too late and she was already walking towards them.

Harry gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze as if to say "be nice," already familiar with her temper. However, she had put up a guard, uncertain whether to trust this girl or not.

“Hi,” She said, “I’m Courtney,” She held a hand out to which Y/N slowly responded, “You must be Y/N, I’ve been watching your games. You’re good.”

Y/N felt her jaw tick at the tone she used in trying to compliment her like she didn’t think she was a good player at all but she was trying to be nice about it.

“Thank you,” Y/N decided to not act out and instead remained civil.

Courtney flashed a pearly white grin, “Yes well my coach thought this whole Academy competition would be good training for the Junior Slam next year. It’s not often something I would participate in but no one can deny the glory of winning something no matter how easy it is.”

Y/N forced a smile, “You’re right, it seems every game just gets easier and easier. I’m sure this next one will be a walk in the park.”

Courtney smirked, her eyes drifting up to see Harry, “Harry,” She acknowledged, “I haven’t seen you since your injury? How is it?”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “Besides the fact I can’t play anymore, I’d say it’s going pretty well.”

Courtney’s smirk deepens, “Is that why you’re doing this? Since you can’t play you’ve got a little pitbull to carry the torch for you.”

Y/N’s fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms, “You know, I’ve been watching you too Courtney.”

Courtney’s expression turned smug as she crossed her arms, “Oh really?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her nose like she was inspecting it, “Your nose is looking a little crooked after last season. My mother knows a doctor who can fix that if you want their number?”

Courtney scowled and spun on her heel to storm away from them after being reminded of her embarrassing moment from last season where she hit herself in the face with her tennis racket and broke her nose.

Harry chuckled from beside her, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not meant to but she pissed me off when she started talking about your injury like that.”

“It’s okay, if I didn’t think you had it covered I would have said something myself.” Harry began to walk to their side of the courts, “Now c’mon my little pitbull, let’s get to work.”

Y/N scowled at his choice of words but followed him anyway.

. . .

Throughout the entire week whenever they weren’t training - which was less often than they had hoped for but also the reason they were here in the first place - Y/N and Harry spent their evenings exploring the city.

Y/N was thankful Harry had been to Paris plenty of times before, enough to show her around and take her to some of his favourite spots.

Together they went to Harry’s favourite cafe each morning to pick up croissants and pastries to eat outside on the little tables and chairs. They visited the Eiffel Tower where they attempted to take photographs of each other holding it in the palms of their hands. They walked over to the Louvre where Harry paid for them to have a private tour in the evening and they would spend most of their evenings walking hand in hand as they strolled along the Seine.

This must be what being a kid feels like. Y/N thought to herself as Harry lay in between her legs as they sat on the grass right in front of the Eiffel Tower. He was reading a book he had bought from a small, indie bookstore they had come across as they walked through the streets.

Everything in her life had always been meticulously planned or she had to work hard for it, even at the age of eighteen. Both Y/N and Harry had been made to grow up quickly because their parents had raised them that way but together it felt like they had regressed back into their simplest forms. Life felt easy and colourful and magical. Each day, Y/N felt like her heart was shedding hardened skin and was slowly turning into this beautiful ball of light that weighed hardly anything inside of her chest.

She paused her train of thought when she felt Harry’s lips press a kiss to her arm, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” He murmured.

Tomorrow was the final and Y/N had been a nervous wreck all day hence why they had attempted to do things that might help her relax. Harry had woken her up with breakfast already carried in by one of the housekeepers and had offered to take her to the spa in the hotel but Y/N was desperate to escape the indoors and go outside so they ended up walking through the streets and stumbling into different shops on multiple street corners. Harry had even bought a baguette to put in his tote bag that they had been nibbling on all day.

“I don’t know if I can handle eating right now,” Y/N admitted, the nerves getting the best of her.

Harry shifted and turned around so he was lying on his stomach, his chin resting on her belly, “You’ll regret it if you don’t eat baby,” He kissed her exposed stomach from where her shirt had risen, “Even if it’s just a little something, y’ can’t go to bed hungry.”

Y/N knew he was right which is how they ended up in one of the fanciest restaurants Harry could have possibly picked from the many Paris had to offer with two plates of pasta and a shared basket of garlic bread between them.

At one point, midway through making her laugh, Harry pulled out his phone to quickly take her picture. Y/N's cheeks tinged pink as she asked, "What did you do that for?"

Harry bit back a grin, “Because you’re my girlfriend and sometimes I take photos of you to make sure this is real,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “What? Do you want to see the whole album I’ve made for you too?”

“A whole album? Ew weirdo,” She teased.

“Not a weirdo, ‘m just obsessed with you,” He says, “Wait until you’ve seen all the playlists I’ve made over the years I’ve been pining for you behind closed doors.”

Y/N’s lips part, “You’re lying,”

“I’m not, I swear,” Harry chuckles, “Remember that box of chocolates you found in your cubby in fifth year on Valentine’s Day?”

“That was not you,” Y/N refused to believe it, “Sarah and I sat in the park after school eating them on the swings after she broke up with Byron.”

“It was,” Harry nodded, his cheeks turning rosy but he carried on, “The day you asked me to teach you to play tennis I felt like I was floating on a cloud at the big old age of eight.”

“But you said no,”

“Yeah because I figured you’d never leave me alone until I did and low and behold here we are today.” He says like he’s been planning this exact moment in time all his teenage life.

“Ah so you’ve been scheming ever since,” Y/N joked.

Harry shrugged, “I may have put things into motion but I think you were always meant to be a part of my life, Y/N.”

Y/N’s heart warmed like he was holding a candle beneath it, “I don’t think I remember anything good that you weren’t a part of.”

He reached for her hand across the table and kissed the inside of her wrist, “You are my good.”

. . .

Harry leaned against the doorframe of the hotel bathroom as he brushed his teeth whilst Y/N lay on the bed in just a towel and underwear having just finished showering. Both their gazes were fixed on the television with re-runs of previous tennis matches playing with the volume down.

Harry’s eyes softened when they looked at Y/N who watched the TV with so much awe on her face. He felt a sense of pride wash over him for both his girlfriend and for himself. After his injury, he thought himself damned and that nothing would give him the rush of playing tennis against big names like he did before but now he had Y/N and life before today seemed non-existent - maybe he hadn’t really been living at all.

He spat out his toothpaste and turned the bathroom light off. He stopped in the doorway in just his boxers when Y/N switched the TV off and there was nothing but the soft, warm glow of the lamp lighting the room.

Her eyes looked up at him, vulnerability shining from them, “If I lose tomorrow will you still look at me the same?” She asked.

Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”

She sighed heavily, sitting up and pulling the towel closer to her to hide her naked chest, “Will you still like me?”

Harry’s eyes softened. It wasn’t often she shared such a vulnerable side with people so whenever he got a glimpse of it, he felt himself spiralling out of control like he was completely at her mercy, “No,” He starts and walks towards her squatting down before the bed and reaching a hand out to hold her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbones, “But I’ll love you a little harder than I do right now,”

A breath escaped from Y/N’s lips as they parted, her heart pounding, “What?” She breathed.

Harry’s lips curved, “I love you.”

She still couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, “You do?”

Harry said nothing other than a small nod as he waited for her to respond, “I love you too,” She whispered, her eyes glistening, “More than anything in this world.”

Harry didn’t need to hear anything else as he surged forward to kiss her, his bottom lip sliding between hers. Y/N held his face in her hands as she kissed him as hard as she could whilst he crawled onto the bed.

She fell back, feeling the soft sheets beneath her as Harry held himself up above her. The towel around her had loosened her pulse racing as she realised what was happening. “We don’t have to-” Harry started but Y/N kissed him quickly to shut him up.

“I want to,” She murmured against his lips.

Harry nodded, his curls falling around his face as his cheeks tinged pink, “I-I can’t promise I’ll be good,” Y/N immediately shook her head, pushing his curls back and looking him straight in the eye.

“I love you, Harry,” She saw the way his eyes twinkled as she spoke those words, “Whatever we do will be perfect because it’s with you and nobody else. Just us.”

Harry smiles, “The way it’s always been. You and me,”

Y/N mirrors his smile before kissing him again, running her hands up and down his back with nothing but the sound of their lips connecting and their heavy exhales filling the silence of the room.

As Harry kissed down her neck, Y/N felt her nerves escalating as an idea formed in her mind. The towel around her was the only barrier preventing their skin from touching, and she yearned to feel the warmth of his bare chest against hers.

Before getting lost in a spiral of self-doubt, Y/N loosened her grip on the towel. Harry paused his assault on her neck and they both froze, “Holy shit,” Harry whispered maybe to himelf but she wasn’t quite sure, “Okay give me a second,” His eyes squeezed shut and Y/N waited.

Suddenly, Harry’s head glimpsed down at her naked form lying beneath him. The only piece of fabric left on her was a pair of red, lace panties, “Fuck,” Harry cursed, “This isn’t real, pinch me so I can wake up,”

“Harry,” Y/N laughed.

“I’m sorry baby but you’re just gonna have to give me a moment because- Holy shit.” He exclaimed, “This is way better than I imagined,” He muttered, loud enough for her to hear.

Harry was in awe of the girl that lay beneath him, every curve of her body and inch of her soft skin looked as thought it was sculpted by tender hands. His hands gripped the bottoms of her thighs and he felt the hard muscle from months and months of playing tennis and yet, despite all that, her skin was still so damn soft.

Harry couldn’t think up enough words to praise the temple that was her body so he sealed his lips with hers, his tongue darting out filled with lust and need. His fingers slid up her thigh to grip her ass and when his hips rolled against hers she felt him - all of him.

Y/N let out a moan as he kissed down her body, he pulled her into him until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her arms looped around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering shut, as Harry kissed and touched every inch of skin. She felt like all the heavy parts of her were being taken out of her body and only her heart remained. He cupped her breasts in his hand and squeezed, her nipples hardening despite the warmth of his touch. She felt like dough, fluffy and light, and no matter what he did to her they would somehow mould together perfectly.

She felt Harry’s thumb hook the waistband of her panties when he kissed the inside of her thigh, “Harry,” Y/N gasped. It seemed to be the only word she had left inside of her empty head.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, his green eyes peering up at her.

“No,” She said, too quickly, “You can do anything y’ want to me.” She trusted him that much.

Harry shuddered at her words, his heart expanding three sizes inside of his chest. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about somebody, to feel like all his calloused skin was peeling off of his body and now he was someone completely new.

With shaky hands, he removed Y/N’s underwear, seeing the way her chest rose and fell. His hands gently pushed her plush thighs apart, “Fuck baby,” He groaned.

“Please Harry,” Y/N mewled, her hips wriggling in hopes the action would propel him to do something.

“Calm down lovie, jus’ admiring how pretty y’ are,” He smirks, his thumb trailing up her slit until it reached her clit. He stopped, hearing her weighted breaths before he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles. He caught the stutter in her breath, watching when her hands fisted the blanket.

Without warning, Y/N feels his warm, wet tongue run between her folds. The sensation feels foreign but she’s overcome by intense pleasure as he begins lapping her through her folds. She feels her lungs deflate as the air escapes her, unable to breathe when he teases her clenching open. Her toes curl as his other hand travels to her hip to hold her down and nuzzle his face harder against her.

Hearing her whines and feeling her writing beneath him, Harry feels his cock throbbing in his boxers, he could feel the damp fabric against his skin as he pressed himself into the mattress with his head still in between her thighs.

“So good,” Y/N babbles, her body shivering when she felt the coil begin to tighten in the pit of her belly, “So, so good Harry.”

Before she could find her release, Harry pulled away his chin glistening with her juices. Y/N’s hands grapple for him but she can barely reach him and feels too floaty to try any harder. Harry’s hair is a mess as he crawls up her bare body and kisses her. She tastes herself on his tongue when they brush against each other, “I need to be inside of you,” He slurs against her lips, “I need you so bad Y/N, I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t.”

Harry’s head hangs, his curls falling in front of his face. Y/N automatically pushes them back, her hips rolling against his. She can feel the damp spot against his boxers despite her own wetness covering her thighs, “I’m on birth control,” She tells him.

Harry groans, his forehead pressing against her collarbones, “Of course you are,” He says, “Always so fucking prepared, aren’t you?” He drawls, “My best girl,”

Y/N’s heart flips and spins at his words, but the reality of the situation sets in when she feels him removing his boxers. She gasps as she feels his hardened length against the inside of her thigh. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Harry was big; she had no clue whether it was normal for someone to be as thick as he was, and she wondered how she was meant to fit it all inside of her.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs and Y/N nods, “I feel like we should high-five or something,”

Y/N can’t help but laugh, “What?”

“Well we’re both virgins about to lose our virginity, shouldn’t we like boost morale or something?” He jokes and Y/N laughs so hard her cheeks ache.

After they both settle, Harry kisses her quickly as he lines his cock up to her pussy, “Harry?” He hums a reponse, “It’ll fit right?”

Harry groaned, his mind still picturing her small, wet glistening pussy that he had just had his first taste of, “Yes baby, it’s your first time so it’ll hurt a little but if you want to stop we’ll stop and if you say go we’ll go and if you want me to leave you alone for ten minutes, I’ll leave for five. Whatever you want.”

“Okay,” She nods, fully determined, “I love you,”

Harry’s eyes soften, “I love you too, lovie.”

Y/N smiles, “I like that name,”

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curve.

“Yeah,” Y/N loops her arms around his neck and tries her best to relax when she feels the tip of his cock brush through her folds.

Harry kisses her forehead, “Take a deep breath,” He says and as she does, she feels him push his hips down and his tip gently ease into her. She gasps, feeling her pussy throb as he moves achingly slow, inch by inch inside of her. A thin layer of sweat covers Harry’s forehead, his jaw clenching as he feels her walls squeezing him tightly.

She feels a sting of pain as his thick length pushes through her, her pussy stretching to accommodate his size.

“Baby,” He murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing over her cheek, “If you keep clenching around me I’m gonna cum before I’m all the way inside of you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You’re not all the way in yet?”

Harry cringed, “M sorry, do you want to stop?”

Y/N immediately shook her head, pulling him closer to her, “Keep going,” She whispered despite the fact she was wondering if she even had enough room to fit him inside of her when she already felt so full.

Harry eased into her a little quicker this time, kissing her soothingly and whispering sweet, encouraging nothings into her ear. He even began to rub his thumb against her clit in hopes it would ease some of her discomfort.

Eventually, he found himself all the way, deep inside of her, her walls squeezing him tightly with his hips pressed against her own. “Are you okay?” He murmured.

“Mhm,” Y/N could barely keep her eyes open from how blissful she felt. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, her entire body was just full up of him in ever sense of the word, “Can we stay like this for a moment,”

He kissed her shoulder and along her collarbones, “Whatever you want lovie, doing so well,”

Although he was trying to remain calm for her, Harry couldn’t believe he was buried deep inside of the girl he had loved for so long. He couldn’t feel any part of his body apart from where they were both connected, slotted together so perfectly like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

Her hair splayed out around her on the pillow, her lips were plushy and swollen, and her cheeks were red, the colour of two, crisp apples picked right off a tree. She was a dream, the love of his life.

“Okay,” She murmured, “Y’ can move now.”

“Are you sure?” He would hate himself if he caused her any more pain but she nodded.

A hiss escaped her lips as Harry began to slowly move out of her. He paused, “I just need to get used to it is all,” She assured.

Harry nods, waiting for her to tell him to move again and when she does, he moves gently out of her before carefully thrusting back into her again. Now that she was getting used to the feeling of him inside of her, Y/N could feel the ridges and veins of his cock brush her walls, the tip of his cock pressing into her g-spot as he moved inside of her.

“God Harry,” Y/N whines.

“You’re m’ dream girl,” Harry slurs, biting his lip when he takes in how tight she is as she clenches around him. He grabs one of the hands still placed around his neck and kisses her wrist. He intertwines their fingers and settles their hands beside her head needing to feel her touch, “M’ best girl, I love y’ so much.” He whispers.

“Love you,” She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut as he thrusts over and over again, each one more perfect than the last.

“Y’ pussy is so perfect baby, made for each other, aren’t we? Hmm? Y’ my perfect, dream girl.” He groans, his head falling forward.

Harry pulled his hand away from hers to smear his thumb over her clit. Y/N whimpers and writhes beneath him at the added pleasure, “Faster,” She whispers, “Please.”

Harry presses messy kisses along her jawline, “Don’t have to beg baby,” He hastens his rhythmic thrusts, their moans filling the air.

“Can feel y’ clenching baby?” Harry seemed to already have an idea of when Y/N was about to cum from the way her body shivered beneath him, “Y’ gonna cum?”

“Yes Harry,” She gasps, “Please Harry, it feels so good,” Her eyes pinched with tears at the overwhelming pleasure that filled every part of her.

“Cum round my cock baby, make a mess hmm, need y’ to cum so I can cum too yeah?” He was almost pleading, words tumbling from his mouth as his thrusts began to speed up the closer he got to his release.

Y/N could feel that same coil begin to tighten in her belly, she could see her vision start to blur and all her muscles tighten until it snapped and her back arched into him. He swooped one arm beneath her, pulling her into him and burying his face into her neck as he groaned into her, “Fuck,” He heaved, releasing into her.

Y/N could barely get any words out as he collapsed on top of her. Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling, her lips parting with small puffs of air escaping her. She felt like she was floating, levitating off the bed and leaving her body behind, “Y’ okay baby,” Harry murmured, kissing her cheek, “Come down for me yeah?” He presses a hand to her forehead.

“Harry,” She whimpers, the first word to leave her lips after coming down from her high. She loops her arms around him and he scoops her up into his.

“You did such a good job, m’love,” He coos, moving her matted hair out of her forehead and admiring how beautiful she looked under the soft light of the lampshade.

“Was so perfect,” She whispers, meeting his soft, green eyes and lifting a hand to brush his hair out of his face.

“Yeah?” He smiled, holding her to him like she was something so fragile he was afraid he might break her.

“Mhm,” She hums, curling into him. “I love you,” She kissed his chest and felt his heart thudding against her hand.

“I’ve loved you for a long time,” Harry replied.

They lay tangled together amongst the sheets, waiting to float back down into their bodies but basking in every second they had in that moment where their hearts were the same.

. . .

Y/N lay in bed that same night with Harry’s t-shirt now covering her bare form. Harry laughed as he re-entered the bedroom having just taken his second shower of the evening.

She was watching a tennis match on the TV again.

“You’re watching tennis?” He smiled, falling on the bed beside her, clad only in his boxers. “Is this your version of cigarettes after sex?”

Y/N grins, “What can I say? It’s my addiction.”

He reaches for her hand and mindlessly plays with her fingers but his ears prick when he hears his name from one of the commentators, “This is my game from last year,” Harry speaks, seeing his face appear on the screen.

They watched as Harry walked onto the court exuding confidence as he shook hands with his opponent before the match started. He then pointed his racket at the middle of the stands where the audience was watching.

“Why do you do that?” Y/N wonders, “Before every game, you’d always point your racket at the middle of the audience.” “Every game?” Harry poked her side.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve watched every single one of your games so what?”

Harry smiled, kissing her bare shoulder and answering, “Because you used to sit there.”

Y/N stilled turning her head to look at him, “What?”

“Whenever I would play at any of my tennis matches, I always looked out for you in the crowd and I’d always find you sitting right in the middle of the bleachers to watch. Eventually, it just became a thing, before I even set foot onto the court, I’d find you sitting in the exact same spot with the exact same expression on your face. I thought you were a good luck charm because whenever you weren’t sat there I’d lose. When I went to matches that you weren’t going to be watching, I just started pointing down the centre courts like my own superstition or something.”

“Is that really the reason?” Y/N’s eyes glistened.

Harry nodded, his eyes casting downward, “S embarrassing I know,”

Y/N shook her head, cupping his face in her hands, “You’re so perfect,” She mumbled, the both of them falling back onto the mattress, getting lost in each other all over again.

. . .

Y/N couldn’t focus on anything other than the crowd gathering in the stands as she sat in her plastic chair on the left-hand side of the umpire’s seat. Harry stood next to her, barely saying a word but offering her his presence to ease her nerves.

Today was the final, the day Y/N had been working towards all these months and it didn’t feel real. The air was hot and humid, Y/N could already feel her skin sticking to the chair as the sun beat down on her.

After waking up this morning, Y/N felt a blissful ache between her legs from her night with Harry. In some ways, she was thankful for it because for a moment it helped her forget what events lay ahead. Their night together had been magical, there was no other way she could describe it. She had no idea what could happen to a person after being so vulnerable with another but she felt lighter and even more in love with Harry than she had ever been before.

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, “We’ll be starting soon,” He murmured, squatting in front of her to meet her eyes.

They had gone to the gym first thing in the morning to warm up for the day's big event. Harry had tried to distract her mind from the doubts that consumed her by playing bad music or challenging her strength on the bel bars but Y/N’s mind constantly drifted.

“Right,” Y/N felt the pit in her stomach cave inwards, consuming all her insides and mushing them altogether. She felt a wave of nausea as Courtney walked onto the court and everyone applauded her.

“Y/N,” Harry grasped her hand in her lap and squeezed, “You are going to win this. I wholeheartedly believe in you.”

Her shoulders drop, “If I don’t-”

“There’s no ‘if’,” Harry interrupted her before she could finish her negative train of thought, “You can and you will. Courtney may be a good tennis player but her ego outweighs all of that.”

Y/N nods, “Okay,” She says.

Harry stands, his hand cupping her left cheek to lift her head. He grins, “I love you.”

Y/N knows her heart is still intact at least from the way it flips and spins inside her chest at his words, “I love you too.”

A twinkle shines in his eyes until they drift over to the stands. His lips curve, “I think there are some other people here who love you too,” He motions his head towards the crowd and Y/N casts her gaze over in that direction.

She feels her eyes prick with tears when she sees Sarah, Mitch and Adam in the front row of the stands all wearing t-shirts with her name and face plastered onto them. Sarah immediately spots her and waves, pointing to her shirt with excitement and pride for her best friend.

“Did you bring them here?” Y/N asked, looking up at Harry.

He shrugged, “Sarah was insisting she came,”

Y/N squeezes his hand, “Thank you,” She whispers, “For all of this. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Harry holds her feeling her heart hammering against her chest as too many emotions consume them both.

Unfortunately for her, Harry couldn’t stay at her side for the entire game but he was in the front row of the stands, directly in the middle exactly where she would sit whenever she would watch any of his games back home.

When the umpire announced the game would begin, Y/N walked over to Courtney and shook her hand, “Good luck,” She said.

Courtney scoffed, “Yeah, thanks.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

As the match began, Y/N and Courtney faced off on the court. The crowd hushed, watching intently. Y/N felt jittery as she waited for Courtney's first serve.

Courtney tossed the ball and swung her racket, sending the ball flying towards Y/N who responded quickly, hitting the ball back with a loud smack.

The game was on. Y/N and Courtney traded shots back and forth, each trying to outplay the other. Y/N felt confident with each move she made, pushing away her earlier doubts until she noticed Courtney begin to counteract her moves when she took in how Y/N responded to each shot.

With one hard-hitting strike, Courtney sent the ball straight past Y/N’s shoulder.

Courtney had the first point.

Y/N glanced over at Harry, seeing him watching with intense focus but his eyes were glued onto her as if she were the only person on the court.

Ignoring Courtney’s smug expression, Y/N served the ball sending it straight into the air and hitting it back with all the force and aggression she could muster. The rally started up again, each stroke a testament to Y/N’s hard work over the past few months. Except this time, the winning prize was closer than it had ever been before.

Y/N aimed the ball and landed it in the corner, Country struggling to reach it in time before it bounced off.

“Fifteen all.” The umpire speaks.

Her ears caught the cheers of her best friend in the crowd, Harry stood and clapped for her but she could still see how tense he was since the game had only just begun.

This back-and-forth continued for the next few rounds. Every time Y/N would move, Courtney would match it. The scores were inching closer and closer to the end. Y/N watched when Courtney served the ball once more and aimed to respond, wrapping both her hands tightly around her racket and running towards the ball as it flung through the air but then she felt it.

An intense pain travelled through her entire body coming from her shoulder and travelling down her arm.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, the ball landing right by her as she dropped to her knees and her racket fell from her hands. Y/N let out a pained scream as she clutched her shoulder.

Medics ran onto the court, people gasping in their seats as they watched the events unfold. “Harry,” Y/N whimpered, “Harry,” She was saying his name like he was looking out for him.

“Stop moving,” One of the medics urged when Y/N tried to stand up.

“Harry,” Y/N sobbed, tears falling from her eyes.

She wasn’t sure what hurt more - her shoulder or her heart breaking from the thought of all this being over.

“Y/N,” Harry was out of breath as he approached her, pushing the security out of the way when they tried to stop him. He collapsed to his knees beside her, searching for the damage.

“Harry,” Y/N cried, the only word she could possibly seem to say in a moment like this.

Harry didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless as he waited for the medics to finish checking out her arm. He held her head to his chest, covering her ears as though it would be enough to shelter her from all that was going on around them. “It’s okay baby,” He whispered, trying to remain calm despite the panic he was feeling.

He felt as though this was all some kind of nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from. Flashbacks from his own injury came to the forefront of his mind as he sat beside her, his shirt dampening as her tears seeped through. “You’re going to be fine,” He told her, repeatedly like he was trying to make himself believe it too.

“It’s ruined, I failed.” Y/N sobbed.

“Hey,” He held her face, trying to smooth some of the tears away, “You’re not a failure and you didn’t ruin anything. You played so well, the best I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s over,” She couldn’t take in anything he was saying and he knew that.

He knew what she was feeling - how the pain of losing everything outweighed the physical pain of an injury. “I love you Y/N, you’re going to be okay.” Was all he could say.

“Y/N, it's a mild dislocation,” one of the medics explained.

“What?” Y/N tried not to scream as they moved her arm.

“We need to take you to the hospital to get it reset,” they advised, but Y/N shook her head immediately.

“No,” she whispered urgently, “Do it now.”

“Y/N—” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Ignoring him, Y/N locked eyes with him and insisted, “Put it back in now, and I can finish the game.”

“Y/N, this is crazy,” Harry protested, shaking his head, “I won’t let you go out there in this much pain.”

“You’ve done it before,” she reminded him, “I watched you dislocate your shoulder and keep playing.”

“This is different,” Harry argued, remembering his own injury.

“If I don’t finish this, I would hate myself,” Y/N insisted earnestly, “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ll be at a disadvantage. You’d have to play the entire game with one hand.”

“I know, and I know how to do it,” Y/N reassured him, her eyes softening, “Because you taught me.”

Harry struggled with a gut feeling that this was a terrible idea. “Okay,” he relented, brushing her hair back gently, “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” the medic asked, clearly apprehensive.

“Just do it,” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth.

Harry held the back of her head as she buried her face in his neck, clinging onto his hands tightly. “I’m gonna be so mad at you for this later,” he whispered into her ear.

“That’s okay,” Y/N attempted a smile, but it quickly faded as the medics reset her shoulder. She wailed and squeezed Harry’s hand so tightly he thought it might fall off.

As the medics stepped back, Y/N raised her arm, feeling the pain subside but still present. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

“No,” Y/N said, “But I have to do this.”

The crowd gasped when Y/N stood, picking up her racket with one hand and flipping it in her hand. Harry stood, glancing over at Courtney who was equally as shocked as everybody else.

He stood in front of Y/N, “I’m so pissed at you right now,” He huffs, “But you better win this.”

Y/N shot him a sad smile, “I’ll try my best.”

He hastily kissed her lips before she could walk away to carry on playing, “That’s all I ask,” He murmured against her. He walks back to his place in the stands, Y/N watching as he goes.

She pushed away the pain that was shooting down her arm and stood on her end of the court to finish the game. Courtney seemed unsure, scanning the way she stood and seeing her limp arm beside her.

Y/N glanced at the academy trophy, feeling like it was now out of reach.

The umpire announced the final round and the tension fell thick in the air. Y/N inhaled a shaky breath and got into position, watching as Courtney threw the ball into the air and hit it with her racket.

Even though one of her arms wasn’t exactly working, her legs worked just fine as she ran for the ball, hitting it with her racket in her one hand. She gritted her teeth when the pain increased with her movements and met Coutrney’s rallies as best as she could. The match raged on, each swing of the racket echoing with the intensity of her cries as Y/N hit the ball.

With each shot, Y/N poured her heart and soul into the game, her movements fueled by sheer determination. The crowd held its breath, watching in awe as she defied the odds with every stroke.

As the pain intensified, Y/N's desperation for the game to end grew. She couldn't understand why Courtney hadn't already sealed the win with one final move. However, Y/N was slowly wondering whether Courtney was using her pain as a way of satisfying her own ego. Y/N noticed whenever she winced or faltered in her movements, Courtney's smirk widened as if she was intentionally prolonging the game to relish in Y/N's discomfort.

A surge of anger ignited within Y/N at the realisation. Harry had been right about Courtney's ego, and now Y/N was determined to turn it against her.

With gritted teeth and a steely determination in her eyes, Y/N squared her shoulders and focused solely on the game. She blocked out the pain, channeling every ounce of her strength and skill into each swing of her racket.

Courtney's smirk faltered as Y/N's resolve became palpable. The crowd sensed a shift in momentum, their cheers growing louder. With each stroke, Y/N felt herself gaining ground, her movements becoming more fluid and precise.

And then, with one final, decisive shot, she sent the ball sailing past Courtney, landing squarely within the boundaries of the court.

Y/N fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes as she realised she had won the entire game.

Harry, Sarah, Mitch and Adam all leapt from the stands and ran towards her, embracing her carefully so to avoid her aching shoulder.

Harry picked her up, holding her tightly and kissing her face, “You did it,” He grinned, “You won.”

“I did it,” Y/N sobbed in disbelief and then a smile took over her entire face as realisation hit her.

She had won.

. . .

Y/N stood by her locker with Sarah, her arm wrapped in a sling whilst wearing her school uniform. Banners littered the walls of the hallway with ‘congratulations’ written in golden handwriting across them.

“I can’t believe you won’t be coming with me to UCL next year,” Sarah huffed, “How am I meant to do anything without you?”

Y/N smiled at her best friend, “The tennis academy is a twenty minute walk away from UCL so it’s not like we’ll be away from each other.”

“I know but who am I going to roomie with next year?” Sarah sighed, “It won’t be the same. We’ve been roommates since we were five, I can’t trust anybody like I do with you. I mean, you even accept my white noise machine.”

Y/N hadn’t accepted it, she hated that thing, but Sarah was her best friend so she put up with it, “Well how about we get an apartment together?”

Sarah almost gasps, “Seriously?”

Y/N nods, “I was thinking maybe me, you, Mitch and Harry could all move in together since we’re going to be living in the same city.”

Sarah’s entire face lights up at the idea, “Have you told Harry about it?”

“We spoke about it last night.” Last night when she stayed the night at his apartment and spent most of the night tangled up in one another.

Sarah squealed, “I have to tell Mitch, he is going to love that idea. Don’t tell Harry this but the other day he started crying at the thought of having to leave him when the year ends.”

They walked out of the school building together, Sarah rambling about how she wanted to decorate their non-existing apartment as Y/N nodded intently to each of her ideas.

Since the Academy Slam, not much had changed other than the fact that Y/N was now going to be spending the next two years at the Tennis Academy in London. The school newspaper had done another interview with her but this time she didn’t mind so much that Harry shared the front cover with her, pride on his face as he looked down at her.

Even though she was achieving her dreams, nothing compared to the relationship she had with Harry. Everyday Y/N felt like she was floating whenever she woke up in Harry’s arms in his apartment or in her tiny dorm bed whenever Sarah wasn’t around.

A smile covered her entire face when she saw Harry looking like every girl’s wet dream, leaning up against the bonnet of his audi as he waited for her. When he did, his own smile mirrored hers, “Hi baby,” He spoke, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Hi Harry,” Y/N stood toe to toe in front of him, clutching her books in one arm.

He wrapped one arm around her waist beneath her blazer and pulled her into his chest, kissing her lips softly, his breath tasting like mint chewing gum, “How’s m’ girl?”

Y/N bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling so much, “Good, I had a test today.”

“Did you smash it?” He smirked.

“Yes but I probably could have done better if somebody hadn’t kept me up all last night.” She rolled her eyes.

His lips went to her neck, “Don’t lie, you loved what I did,” He mumbled against her skin as he suckled on her neck, surely leaving a mark.

“These late nights are getting out of hand,” Y/N made a feeble attempt to push him away.

“Mmm,” He hummed, pulling away, “Need I remind you that you were the one to initiate it,”

“I did not,” Y/N gaped.

“Uh huh,” Harry smirked, “Whatever you want to believe.”

“No you were the one who-”

Harry’s smirk deepened, “Who what?” He watched as Y/N’s cheeks turned pink and her mouth open and closed as she struggled to say something.

“Shut up,” She huffed, walking to the passenger seat of his car, “Take me home please,”

“Whatever you want,” He beamed, loving the way she called his apartment her home.

He drove away from the tennis courts, a spark of joy igniting within her every time they came into view. Harry held her hand over the console as they drove down the streets to his apartment, feeling more at peace than she had ever been before. Not only was she going to be going to her dream school but she’d also be with Harry and her best friend too.

For a long time, Y/N believed that tennis was the only love of her life but now she had Harry and if she had to choose between the two, she would pick him every single time.

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1800titz · 8 months

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HI FRIENDS. WOOOOOOOOOOO. Camprry. Aimed for 5K or less and managed to get wordy again. Reader insert and basically pure smut. This one was supposed to be vanilla with some praise kink (and exhibitionism if you SQUINT since it’s in a tent) but….. hahahahaha….. WEEEELLLLLLL.

CONTENT WARNINGS: oral sex, face fucking, exhibitionism-ish if you squint, choking-ish if you squint, light dom/sub, praise kink, daddy kink, intercourse

WC: 7.5K (whoops)

There is nothing remotely sexy about a camping trip.

In fact, Y/N thinks that if she were to deduce a list of words upon first thought when it came to camping, sexy would be the furthest one from qualifying.

There’s nothing sexy about reverting to caveman-ism, sleeping on the ground, sheathed by some paper-thin layer of nylon and polyester and plastic support beams. There’s nothing sexy about pit stains from the lack of air conditioning or its antithetical twin sister, the bumps that rise over chilly skin and trembling bones without the luxury of an electric heater. There’s nothing innately erotic about kindling fire like electricity doesn’t exist, and cooking hot dogs on skewers over the flame, and perpetually swatting at insects that incessantly stick to shins and calves like the flesh there is coated in sugar.

There is something sexy, though, when it comes to the way Harry’s arms work as he pitches a tent, bi’s and tri’s intermingling in an alluring duet, pumping and settling with each motion. The sleeves of his tee ride up when he raises the limbs, and sunlight catches shadow in ridge and sinew of muscle. There’s something sexy in the way his back ripples, in the way that thin fabric does nothing to cover what she imagines — no, what she’s well aware lies underneath. The same traps and lats she’s scraped her nails over and dug into. The same shoulders she’s sunk her teeth into to bridle cries of bliss.

There’s something hot about the cinch in his brow when he works, something alluring in the curl at the plush of his mouth when he turns his head and beams lopsidedly at something that their friend has said, too low for Y/N to catch. There’s something sexy in the way that his eyes skim her frame when she’s sitting in a fold-out chair with sunglasses. When his eyes glide over his shoulder. It’s in the most subtle way. There’s something sexy in the way he tears that gaze away.

There’s something sexy in the way that no one around them knows she spends nights bouncing on his cock.

This lustrous affair — this sneaky fling. This filthy, dirty secret that only the two of them share, slinking and sidling through the shadows.

Really, it’s nothing more than a raunchy circumstance of friends-with-benefits, only kept on the down-low to evade prying questions from friends and the sickly confrontation of …feelings. Because it’d be easy to admit they’re fucking, that they’ve been hooking up for months after an impromptu, late night of drinking. But then it’s sort of cementing, right? At least, in a way.

There’s a status that floats about when you confess you’re sleeping with somebody — when you admit that you’ve entangled them into your routine beyond one mishap of sex. In the eyes of your friends, admitting that you’ve upkept a sex buddy through the roll of the seasons is, like. Well, it’s basically admitting some form of something sentimental.

They’re just fucking. They’re just friends that fuck. And the way that nobody around them has any sort of suspicion that he’ll most likely be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night for that...

That’s sexy, the young woman thinks.

They’re coiled around the campfire once the sun has ducked out and simmered off behind the trees, and Y/N thinks about it. She watches the shape of his features glow beyond the crackle of the flame, and she thinks about the way his nose bumps over her clit when he licks into her. She watches his mouth move when he talks, a muted strawberry that’s dimmed in the night, and she thinks about the cushion of it pressing open-mouthed kisses to her flesh. She’s in his sweatshirt, because she had to borrow one, and it smells like him. She’s coated in it — his scent. Warm, pleasant musk and remnants of tantalizing cologne. It reminds her of the way the same sweatshirt had been discarded and draped over the foot of her bed haphazardly one night, as he kneed his way onto the mattress and clambered over her, fingertips exploring and tongue trailing. It reminds her of the way he smells when he brushes past her in the company of others, just solid weight and warmth. He does it nonchalantly, but the green of his eyes is knowing and flirtatious. That’s when the same scent teases her senses. It reminds her of the way he smells when he’s up close and personal, when he’s rocking against her and groaning softly into the nook between her shoulder and her neck.

She stares at his hands — the way they lay over the armrests of his fold-out, the way lengthy digits adorned with chunky rings cradle a can of beer. She imagines the same fingers wrapped over her throat, squeezing lightly, in that way that he does.

Y/N isn’t panting into the chill of the air. The white of her exhales just surface …quicker. His hands, and his smell, and his mouth are entirely irrelevant to the matter.

By the time they all retire to their respective tents, the young woman is pleased to get a breather from his hands and his …ludicrously plush, smiley mouth. At least in a public circumstance, so she can’t be caught fawning over his mannerisms from a distance. The smell …she can’t escape that. In all honesty, it should be shameful, basking in the scent of a sweatshirt. Instead, she coils up in it under the covers.

She’s turned on her side with gritty rock coursing through wire, chords of guitar and drums rippling out from the little speakers in her ears, entirely engrossed as she scrolls through what little apps can manage access without a durable station of wifi.

Y/N nearly squeals when an arm slinks over her chest, when a palm nudges over her mouth. And then another hand is plucking at one of the earbuds, giving her leeway into the crinkle of the sleeping bag, crickets, and the sound of bated breaths behind her.

A low baritone, hushed and teasing against the same ear where the earbud’s been removed, “Easy, baby.”

The gentle murmur that his lips shape does, frankly, little to soothe the hammer of her heart. In fact, if anything, the muscle soars in pace behind bone with the way cushiony pink grazes her jaw, the way his warm weight presses up behind her.

“Easy.”

She’d sit up and turn over her shoulder if she had the opportunity, but the same inky, muscly arm she’d admired hours earlier cradles over, preventing the motion. Harry can tell too, evidently, based on his soft snicker. He’s pleased from the way her head juts to steal a peer back. He’s pleased when she doesn’t succeed.

Instead of letting up, he takes the same earbud he’d pulled out and presses it into his own ear so that they’re sharing the set, crooning, “What are you listening to? Hm?”

He sponges another kiss to the side of her throat, a stray tendril flopping over his forehead. Y/N knows that he’s listening to it, too, then. She knows from the playful, little nudge of his head with the rhythm, from the way the cord of the earbuds grows taut, from the sound of mirth he muzzles to her skin when he drives his mouth over the side of her neck. The young woman wriggles her arm, just enough for his grip to loosen, and then uses the opportunity to raise her head to take her own earbud out. The motion jostles Harry from the nook he’s seemingly made homage in, and he nips at her earlobe in protest. Anyways, the whole thing sends a chill wracking down her shoulders.

When he lets up, Y/N twists in his grasp to her back. The earbuds splay over her chest, his own discarded, too. There’s still music seeping softly. She blinks, gaze tracing over his features, basked in shadow and soft amusement.

“Hey,” she croaks, her voice catching on a crack with the effort to keep quiet.

And Harry drags a thumb down her stomach, fingers meddling where the fabric of her (no, his) hoodie has rucked up. The ticklish sensation makes her shift a little. His mouth quirks, and he smooths over the same spot again.

“Hey, you.”

Her lips part and her tummy jolts when he slips the chilly pad of his thumb back over the line he’d run for a third time. She wants to bring her own hand up and trace the contours of his cocky mouth with her fingertips. It shapes the words, like baritone bathed in honey, “Ticklish?”

When he brushes over a fourth time, her arm twitches, and her hand shoots for his wrist, squeezing lightly. Corners of muted pink spring up, dimples scoring softly.

“Yes,” she gripes in a whisper, but the gripe doesn’t come out very gripey at all. Instead, it’s sort of small — that’s on account of his warm weight shifting onto her. Which is a new development, and it’s one that stirs something familiar and warm below the sleeping bag she’s nestled into, half-zipped and mostly just thrown over.

His sturdy thigh slips in the empty gap between her own, and Harry ducks his head, the dimples deepening and the glint of white teeth escaping through the part of his lips. And then he dips lower until his face is nearly tucked into her hair.

“I missed you,” his admission is soft-spoken. It’d be sort of tender if it didn’t come out so …hungry.

Y/N takes in a little, shuddery breath. The same hand that's settled over her hipbone comes up to brush hair away from her throat, and a mouth stipples kisses over her pulse. His voice is a raspy, desirous tease, “Did you miss me?”

Christ. She thinks that maybe if he were telepathic and had even a brief glimpse into the filthy things that’d cycled behind her skull for the duration of the day, then he’d only be more smug.

That’s dangerous.

She’s glad he isn’t.

The young woman hums — an apathetic sound that feigns contemplation, like his touch doesn’t light every nerve ending in her system on fire, like she hasn’t spent hours staring at his arms, his mouth, his hands. Like she hasn’t been picturing expanses of muscle and skin hidden under his tee, imagining her tongue tracing through the vales of his v-line and her fingertips following the trail of hair below his belly button, slipping lower and lower…

“No?” Harry murmurs, lips bumping wetly over her flesh. What follows is a gentle exhale, and then his mouth is sponging another open-mouthed kiss, and his tongue brushes warmth against her, like he’s petting with it over her pulse. He caresses all the way back to her ear. Something dirty and thrilling slinks down the knobs of her spine when he mumbles, unconvinced, “I think you’re lying to me, little miss.”

Her breath stutters.

“I think,” Harry muses, fingers dipping beneath the shroud of the sleeping bag and smoothing back over her waist testingly, “that if I had a look right now, you’d be a drippy mess.”

Her throat bobs on a swallow. Petulantly, and so obviously feigning, Y/N tips her chin back and tells him, “…Not at all.”

Instead of smoothing tips of digits back over the naked, little expanse of skin again, they venture lower, teasing at the waistband of her sleep shorts. “I think your sweet, little pussy would tell me otherwise, wouldn’t it, pet?”

Another deep breath rolls her chest under the cushioned sheet of fabric when fingertips dwell in. Just centimeters, practically. They retreat. Harry presses another kiss just below her ear.

“Hm? It’s been so empty all day long. Achy, I bet.” Chills rise awake all over when he murmurs, purely condescending pity painting every syllable, “Poor baby.”

He’s always had it — this gift of filthy, dirty gab. This ability to render her craving and wanting with his words like it’s innate, practically. She shouldn’t be surprised when he shifts over her, just enough for her to feel how hard he is, tips of his curls tickling at her cheek, “Could stuff it full. Make it all better.”

Y/N sighs. Finally. Like it’s a release of the whole act, and the seams of it come apart to bliss when he nips with his teeth. She cranes her neck to give him more room to work.

“Would you like that?”

And she would, she thinks. Very, very much, and his lingering fingers — when they pull out and he hooks a thumb in and just tugs down a smidge — remind her of how hot she suddenly is. How hot everything is, despite the chill in the air. Instead of answering, the young woman nudges with her chin — a nod. An unsatisfactory one, evidently.

“Words,” Harry mutters. It’s gentle, and quiet, and she hopes the polar opposite of the way he’s going to fuck her.

She cranes her neck more and splays her thighs what little she can under his weight. It’s kind of a plea. It’s also sort of pathetic. “Yes.”

But it makes his mouth crook. His palm draws away. No. That wasn’t the intended effect. She curbs her sound of protest, but he can tell that it’s bridled in the chamber — she knows because the curl of mirth grows wider. He sits up a bit, bracing on his arms until he hovers over her, and then he sighs, jade sliding to the sector of the bag that’s zipped. Slowly, like he’s teasing, he grips over the notch and tugs.

“What d’you do if you want me to stop?” Harry beckons, nearly a whisper but not quite, fingers skimming up under his hoodie. The same hoodie clings to her flesh, and every nerve sparks alive at the touch, striking her lungs to expand heavier. The air catches when the pads of his fingers graze up the vale of her sides and siphon a flinch.

“Teacup,” Y/N breathes the safeword in response, and the fingertips climb her ribs like a staircase, pleased.

“Good girl,” He tells her, and the pads sink back over, bumping over the ridges, and he tugs the fabric up over her chest.

Her bra is red. It’s a nice detail, all lacy cupped over her chest. He draws the tip of an index over the edge and says, “Cheeky,” like his comment isn’t, “…Did you wear this to get fucked?”

The young woman gnaws at her lip. Innately, it’s not an accurate statement. She didn’t wear it to get fucked — not when she knew he’d be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night and fucking into her regardless of the state of her underthings. But it’s a nice touch when he ducks, palm squeezing over one of her tits, and tacks on all low against her ear, like it’s praise, “Because you know I love you in red, pet.”

The satisfaction of pleasing him buds in her chest, right at the core of her ribcage, warmth pitted deep, and it slinks out like beams of gooey sunshine, winding and seeping through the cavity until her veins practically thrum yellow. She’s buzzing beneath him, pulse thumping and fibers of muscle twitching. It makes his mouth curve — the way he feels her trembling under him like she’s a taut string, and he traces a thumb over her mouth.

Then jade flits to her chest, and Harry takes the thumb away to hook fingers under the cups and tug. They settle under her tits, perking them, and the way the wire settles over her ribcage isn’t particularly comfortable, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when he shimmies down her body and draws a stripe down with his tongue, all the way from the hollow of her throat to the edge of the bra, settling in between. He kisses down her stomach, green salacious and twinkling up through shadow at her, and his tongue draws a circle around her belly button. His mouth quirks there, too, because it makes her flinch. Because he knew it would. Harry brushes with wet taste buds lower, settles on a side, low on her tummy, and sucks a pressing kiss. Her whole spine wrings and writhes, arching when he pairs the sensation with a dull graze of his hand over a nipple. It’s barely anything, but it’s a touch she longs for. And she doesn’t know why, but it always lights her on fire when the pleasure entwines with something that makes her want to squirm out of her own skin.

Because when he turns the graze into a pinch and a roll, when he hones on the drag of his tongue and the suckling of his mouth, when he skirts featherlight fingertips up her side like he’s plucking invisible strings, the yellow thrums red, and hot, and hungry. When his mouth lets up and he drags wet lips to curl over the opposite nipple and the featherlight turns more purposeful, squeezing at sensitive flesh, this knocked-out unph escapes her, like a bridled grunt he’s punched from her. Like a half-laugh, like a moan, like a mottled gasp, like discomfort and please-don’t-stop enmeshed, curbed out of desperation. It makes the red fucking neon.

Harry withdraws with a pop from the bud, and the air bites onto the wet to replace his mouth. The ambiance of rickets and cold reminds her that they’re kind of, sort of, definitely in public, only really shielded from said public (and the intrusive presence of their friend group) by thin sheets of nylon erected with plastic poles. Her eyes say it all then — this hesitation sparking, lashes bouncing and bounding from the nervous shift of her pupils, working from his eyes to his plush mouth and back as he rises to settle over her more.

“They’re asleep,” he promises, a hushed murmur he seals to her own mouth in a sloppy half-kiss. His top lip ghosts over her cupid's bow, and he smooths a hand back over the vale of her waist where he’d squeezed a second ago. Her chest rolls under him, and her mouth parts, just a little to let a mottled little sound escape, like a wheezing gasp she’s muffled.

And he muffles it more with his own lips, pressing against her. The sleeping bag rustles, and it’s quiet beyond the stilted sheets barring the wilderness. Harry’s hand skims down.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Harry murmurs into her mouth, palm trailing until it stills at the waistband of her shorts, fingertip lingering over an expanse of skin below her belly button that he’s well aware will have her squirming. Y/N jerks. “Here? Or… maybe…”

The young woman practically does a squished, weighted version of a body roll beneath him when he moves his hand to her inner thigh, dragging the pad of his index over the sensitive skin higher up. “Maybe …here? …No, I don’t think so…”

His tongue licks into her mouth when she opens wider for him, desperate for the taste of him on her tongue, and she nearly gasps over that same tongue — loudly — when his palm cups unceremoniously between her legs. “…I think you want me here. That’s about right, isn’t it?”

Y/N makes a little noise — it’s something between desperation and wordless agreement, and it quirks the corners of Harry’s mouth, carving dimples in beside his smug beam. The hand withdraws so suddenly she wants to melt into the hungry soil.

“Yeah, that’s it, sweet thing,” he declares, voice hushed, a bass-deep admission soft-spoken and colored with teasing.

Instead, he presses up until he’s hovering over her and then knees his way back, and then his fingers tuck up under the waistband of her shorts. When he discards them into the beginnings of a pile of clothing beside them, coaxing her hips to rise up enough with a soft word, blood teems into her cheekbones, like it’s all new and foreign.

It’s not.

It’s the most comforting and familiar when he traces a fingertip over the cleft at the crotch of her panties, the most familiar when he shimmies his fingertips under the sides of the fabric at her hips and tugs those off, too. It’s familiar when he holds a leg up, fingers gentle at her calf, and sponges kisses up her leg from her ankle to her inner thigh. It’s familiar when his tongue dances over hot, slick, flesh in craving, when it rolls around her clit and circles back. When he’s amused by the proof that he was right, that she is soaked, and his ego inflates like a hot air balloon. It’s familiar in the draw of his tongue, in the brush of his lips, in the way his fingers brush over her thighs, over her hole, over the sensitive areas in between. It’s familiar in the way that she watches stars speckle in the darkness behind her clenched eyelids, in the way that Harry doesn’t let up even as she pants and wrings her own fingers into his curls. In the way that he only responds with a moan against her at the rough treatment of his scalp.

It’s somewhere between heaven and hell, teetering on the wire, when he laps over her pulsing cunt. His irises flicker up when she shudders, when Y/N makes a futile attempt to clasp her thighs over his head and prevent the light drag of his tongue over her oversensitive button. Instead, he tucks a palm against one of her legs and holds it down, plush lips curling around an ‘o’ and sucking. Every muscle seizes, her fingers twitching and struggling to curl into the thinly stuffed fabric of the sleeping bag. She bridles a whole-body thrash, neck straining as her breath stutters.

“Please— plea— it’s too much—“ Y/N swallows midway her begging to avoid choking on her own spit, and that’s cute, Harry thinks.

Aw, Y/N thinks he’d coo up at her from between her thighs, if his mouth wasn’t occupied at her core, those are pretty words. They don’t sound like a safeword, though.

He doesn’t say that, though. He doesn’t say anything, humming quietly over her clit (honestly, she can’t tell if it’s in protest or agreement) and rolling a slow circle over nerves that are spent and nearly raw post his caress.

Her chest is still rolling when he clambers his way up onto her, kneeing around her sides and then coaxing her arms up into a stretch. Harry cages those with firm thighs at the roots of the limbs, kneeing his way higher until he’s hovering over her chest and admiring her, all pliant and worn out and obedient beneath him. He sniffs, head cocked and eyes glimmering, and then sighs when he tucks fingers into the waistband of his shorts. Her fingers twitch, outstretched above her. And he’s weightless, and steady, and careful over her, but despite that, filth from his tongue punches her breath out like he’s sat directly over her lungs.

“Gonna suck my cock, baby.”

It’s not really a question — not in tone. It’s a coo, a declaration, insight before Harry digs his fingers further past elastic and discards two layers of fabric with one tug, and his cock bobs free, glistening with a bead of precum at the head.

Y/N swipes out over her lips with her tongue, and the sheen of spit over pink nearly matches the glimmer on the pink of his tip. The man cradles his free hand over his base and tucks the waistband lower on his hips, just until it rests under his balls and a glimpse of inked laurels and milky expanses of a bare tan line are on show. Bracing himself with a hand planted on the ground, Harry leans over her and aims his shaft, daubing over the plush of her mouth. When her tongue peeks out to swipe over the silky skin, she thinks he’s going to chastise her for her lack of patience. He doesn’t. Instead, he ogles down at the motion like she’s a goddess, cracks in otherwise apathy morphing; a light crease between his brows, a twitch in his lips. The same lips part for a shuddery breath like he’s trying to reign in his composure. And with every drag of his head over her slippery, hungry taste buds, a slow, side-to-side swipe that seems to lose precision with each motion, those cracks in his control give more. His jaw sets and he takes a long breath in through flared nostrils, and then shifts the palm that’d settled on the ground to rest over her wrists.

“M’gonna fuck your mouth,” Harry tells her, pupils scoping carefully from her lips to her own eyes in finality. “What do you do if you want me to stop?”

Y/N blinks. Her fingers twitch. She bends the digits over his grip and squeezes, flexing and unflexing over his own fingers like code in a tempo of frenzy. His gaze doesn’t even flicker from the aim of his tip, and he draws it over her mouth like he’s in awe of the sight.

“Good girl.”

The young woman takes in a breath, mouth parting over his head slightly, all doe-eyed. He smushes his cockhead to the open seam.

“Open up for me,” the soft croon is accompanied by the tilt of his head, and a stray curl dangles over his forehead when he swipes the tip over her lips, “Nice and wide. Show me that pretty tongue.”

And it slinks from her mouth as if on mindless command. Harry smears his tip over it like a filthy greeting, and then he feeds his fat cock in, guiding it up until the point to where he’s able to shift his weight onto the hand that doesn’t coat her wrists, careful not to cause the confined joints any discomfort.

“That’s it,” his praise seeps out all breathy, barely over an awed whisper as he sinks in and her tongue flexes to encompass the drag towards her gag reflex, “That’s a good girl.”

The pointed little end grazes over his balls.

“Eyes up here, pretty thing,” Harry encourages, ducking his own chin. There’s something pretty in the dance of her lash line, in the way her pupils flit up to his shadowy face, the way her lips tuck over her teeth to cushion his shaft. The way her tongue stays stuck out, flexing under the welcomed intrusion, “…Wanna watch them get all teary.”

It’s like she tries to appease him. It’s as if on instinct to his words, that her lashes flutter as she tries to peer up, the beginnings of a ready sheen glazing the pretty color there as her tongue twitches and her throat bobs in an attempted swallow.

And Christ, does it feel good when she does that.

Harry’s own neck cranes, the muscles there flexing and veins swelling there like little ropes pulled taut under his skin. He groans, and it makes her do it again. His brows are furrowed when he risks a glance down at the picture-perfect view, and his hips nudge forward a smidge, only for him to bask in the sight of her irises lolling back and her lashes batting. A hiss lips through gritted teeth like rain through a gutter, and his head cocks further as he smooths an index to rest over her palm. She doesn’t have her digits balled — not all the way — not until his forefinger rests in her reach. She squeezes over that, almost like it’s an anchor. Something grounding to tether her.

“Shit,” he manages out, barely over a whisper to bite back a throaty groan, hips rolling and brows furrowed in pleasure, “Shit — you’re good. You’re so good—“

And it makes the twitch of her lashes melt into a flitting bat, the color there rolling back and hiding behind the flutter. She can’t exactly hum in acknowledgment, but Y/N makes this garbled sound around him — this desperate kind she’d only make with his shaft stuffed down her throat, and it’s loud. Too loud. He squeezes over her wrists with his thumb, hips slowing until he’s wedged in to the hilt, stilled with the tip of her nose pressed to the light dusting of his pubic hair.

And Y/N thinks she’s going to implode. She’s going to implode if she doesn’t suffocate over his cock first.

“Shh, shh,” Harry wriggles the index she’s gripping until her touch loosens enough, and he’s able to stroke the tip over her palm, “Shh.”

Her pupils flit up to him in this deliciously delirious way for air. Harry tips his head down, the shadow of another curl flopping over his forehead. His cock twitches. Y/N makes another sound over him, this one lower. More pleading. More distressed. Her lashes flutter, cheeks puffing. Just when she’s about to clench and unclench over his fingers, he pulls out. It’s nearly all the way, but not quite, and she wheezes oxygen into her deprived lungs, muffling a fit of coughing. When she turns her head to take in more air, his tip slips out and draws a wet streak of saliva from the corner of her mouth across her cheek.

“So pretty,” Harry murmurs. His tone sounds distant, and absentminded, and awed, like her mouth is divine and his voice is sort of full of worship, “You take me so well.”

Y/N blinks up at him, lips swollen post his ministrations and parted, slick with spit. Harry adjusts his grip, balancing his weight, and curls his lengthy digits over the base of his cock, aiming it back to that pretty, pretty mouth.

Her jaw practically unhinges at the implication, tongue sticking out to daub at his cockhead when he croons, “And you’ll take a little more for me, sweetheart. Won’t you?”

The sultry plush of his mouth curls up, all smug like when the tip of her tongue prods at his head, and then he feeds himself back into the warmth of her mouth.

“Yeah,” Harry grunts, hips rolling slow and cautious as he guides himself in, “Yeah, you will.”

He settles back into a pace of shallow, jutting thrusts, slow, and calculated, and testing. But then those melt and meld into something smoother, something deeper that brushes the back of her throat. Her fingers stretch wide and open and curl helplessly, never quite squeezing over his own digits, and Harry basks in the wet, pornographic sounds that envelop his shaft. Even as she tries to dim their volume, the sound of her sputtering around his cock isn’t something she can exactly mask when he brushes her gag reflex, again, and again. With every prod forward, every second she spends with her jaw wide open for him, that flame in her core kindles higher and higher. When he pulls out, jaw clenched and tummy flexing, ridges of his abs caught in the shadows, it’s like he pours kerosene.

“Suck,” her friend tells her, soft-spoken as he nudges with his hips. His palm cradles his cock, fingers curled under the base. But her range of motion is limited, and Harry tips it up from her wanton, slick lips. Almost like it’s purposeful, because it definitely is.

A tentative tongue slips out to draw over his balls, and the way his front teeth lodge against the plush of his bottom lip, head cocked to indulge in the innocuous peer of her eyes beneath him — that’s a pretty sight she can make out even through the lack of light. She takes a million mental snapshots with her pupils, all of him in his all, curls dangling from the angle and the sharp line of his nose, his panting mouth as her tastebuds drag, sinew of muscle at his abdomen flexing, a rise and fall. The barest shape of the dark anchor etched into his wrist, his long, ring-clad fingers, the way they curl over his cock. The shape of it hovering over her face.

A low groan squeezes past the door he’s made with his teeth, and then he says, “Yeah. There. Go on.”

Her tongue morphs to her mouth, lips latching over lightly and sucking, just as he’d directed, and parting teases paste to him like doting kisses. Her lashline bounces as her eyes attempt to make his responses out through the rough angle and the dark that coats them. His head craned back there, his tummy rising and falling in pants there, his face tipped down over her to watch. The most insightful — and frankly, the most satisfying — are the sounds.

The hisses of air he sucks in through his teeth, the way huffs fall out from between his open lips. They’re slow, and they come out like he’s trying to control them for the sake of the decibel, but they shake as they escape, and that’s a telltale. And then there’s the moans.

There aren’t many of those to indulge in, but there’s a couple, one that Harry can’t seem to curb, despite his seemingly best efforts, when Y/N rolls her tongue over him all slow-like and comes off with a pop. And then another, later, that has him hanging his head when she stipples kisses to the sensitive skin there.

“Christ, you’re gonna kill me.”

The young woman hums, maybe in agreement or maybe goading, lashes batting innocently beneath him as she draws her lips over his sac aimlessly.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and then he stifles and clams up like he’s contemplating. When her tongue drags over him again he seems to make a decision, tearing himself away and kneeing his way back until he’s hovering over her thighs, his cock bobbing and wet with spit, “Sit up. Take this off.”

Do this, do that. A shudder climbs up the knobs of her spine, slithering its way up the bone as she basks in the dominating note plucking at his tone. The sweatshirt catches on her hair and tugs strands, but it’s frenzied, somehow fond, the way his hands rove up her sides and slip up her back, roaming over hot skin to toggle at the back of her bra.

Then it’s, “Roll over,” with the last of her clothing discarded into the darkness, somewhere beside them in the same, sloppy pile with her shorts and her underwear. “Gonna—“ she thinks he sheds his t-shirt then, imagines his muscles rippling and flexing as he pulls it off, over his head from the back, “—fuck you like I want your snug cunt wrapped around me forever.”

And then go his shorts, judging by the way his weight dips and balances, the shuffling from behind as he kicks them off and they’re flung somewhere by his ankle. He presses up onto her, grappling her by the hip, all warm weight and everything brushing together.

“You wanna bounce on my cock, baby?” Harry murmurs, pink lips grazing her temple. A curl tickles at her cheekbones when he ducks to skim his teeth over her earlobe, to ghost a breath of promise — of foreshadowing against her neck when he tells her, sultry low and smooth like honey, “Be a good girl and ask Daddy nicely. Maybe then I’ll let you.”

Shit. Fucking Shit. That little word teems down her ears and hikes all the way down her nervous system and back up, lighting everything in her alive.

Quietly, barely over a whisper, Y/N beckons, “Please.” And when Harry doesn’t immediately move, she licks out at her slips, swallows, and pleads, “Daddy. I need you. Need you inside.”

In response, her friend cups a hand over a love handle and guides his cock to press against her. But he doesn’t breach.

“Better, but not quite,” he sighs. There’s leaves rustling outside in the gentle breeze, but Y/N doesn’t hear anything besides the rush of blood in her ears when she begs more, and it doesn’t get any quieter when Harry rewards her by tucking himself inside and pumping forward, just about halfway.

It’s a crying shame when he doesn’t make any motion to keep going. And then it’s quiet besides their panting breaths intermingling. Eventually, though, he does talk.

“Fuck yourself on it,” Harry instructs, cadence ludicrously controlled given that half of his cock is tucked into her. Y/N peers over her shoulder to catch glimpses of his furrowed brows — the rip in the stitch of semblance. She can only manage to see so much. He ducks his head and nips at the shell of her ear, coaxing tingles down her neck, her shoulders, all the way from her nape. “Go on. Don’t pretend to be shy about it.”

Fucking fuck. How can she not be, she thinks, when he talks like that?

There’s a heat that seeps over her the crest of her cheekbones where he can’t see, and she squeezes over him in response to the filth. Harry settles back up. From the corner of her eye, Y/N notes lines of muscle shaping his arms as he hovers over her. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she arches her hips up a tad and nudges back. It’s not enough — it’s maybe an inch, and she rocks forward by pressing her hips down and then repeats the motion. Just as there was a lack of control over her shame when he spewed dirty, brazen, filth, there’s also a lack of motion when she’s rolled forward with her tummy pressed to the ground. There’s only so much — so many inches she can ride back on when she’s rendered immobile.

He knows it, too — it’s obvious by the poorly muffled note of mirth in his tone from behind, “Good girl. But you can do better than that, can’t you?”

Helplessly, Y/N grits her teeth, fingers tangling into the fabric of her sleeping bag as she rolls her hips back in another attempt. It’s stuttery, and awkward, and not really a seamless, Shakira-esque roll at all. It’s a poor shuffle, hips raising more than traveling back.

“Come on,” Harry goads, tutting like her tries are half-assed and she’s not currently exerting her body into creating motions that are simply unrealistic, “Take it proper. You want it? Then take it. Show me.”

Camping is supposed to be wholesome. Camping is supposed to be laughter, and deep, pure breaths of air that scrub out the tainted glaze of city life from the walls of your lungs, sticky like cigarette smoke residue on the walls of a house. It’s hiking boots stuffed with the thickest socks. It’s marshmallows on twigs over curdling flames that lick up, it’s flashlights, and spooky myths and legends verbalized, and more laughter.

Instead, Y/N is camping, and she’s currently barely grinding over inches of Harry’s cock.

“I can’t,” she grits out, frustrated, but it sounds more like a whine than anything with bite.

“You can’t? Sure you can, pet,” Harry grapples over her hip, bracing on one arm in, honestly, an impressive showcase of athleticism, and manually rakes her hips back over him. It allows for more — more of him, more of his cock, more of his touch. More of him splitting her open and spreading her apart over him. “Just like this, right?”

She’s sure he must be meeting her at least a quarter, if not halfway, though. It all feels like a devious ploy. Y/N whines. He makes this amused sound then, one of those puffs expelled through his nostrils like a half-laugh, accompanied by a hum. And then he pulls out and pumps his hips forward, until he’s flush to her backside, and then reverses and repeats. Three times. He gives her three, good, long, full thrusts, smoothing out to the tip and in to the root until she’s stuffed, just like he’d promised. Then, he presses in all the way and just basks in her heat.

“Better?” Harry asks, but his tone catches on a quiet grunt and wavers in its prior composure. She squeezes over him, really squeezes, and he muffles a groan with the seal of his mouth. For a second, he doesn’t say anything at all, and then the filth spills again. It’s odd how patronizing he can sound, despite the way her cunt so obviously affects him, “Need Daddy to do all the work, is that it?”

Y/N hums. There isn’t much she can say to disagree because it’s good. At some point, his slow rolls morph into sharp juts, and the brace of his arms bends and gives until his chest is flush to her back.

“Please, please, please, please,” Y/N croaks out the mantra, muzzled by the smush of her cheek to the ground with the pressure of his hand palming at the side of her skull.

“Shh,” Harry rocks forward, fingertips twitching into her roots like a meld of petting and admonishment. He rocks into her until he’s flush against her backside, splitting her over him to the hilt, “Shh …don’t need to beg, sweetheart. You can have it. Have it all.”

He’s warm weight over her, hard muscle like hot, sticky stone as he works into her from behind. He’s a welcome stretch, a pleasant burn, inches of bliss that her spongy walls cling to in a warm hug. He’s tips of curls brushing over her cheeks, filthy words in a murmur flush to the shell of her ear, little, repressed grunts and shuddery exhales as his hips rock. He’s a headlock that squeezes over her throat deliciously and keeps her neck craned back. It’s in this perfect way that almost has her gasping for breath.

The young woman practically bites into her tongue to curb a nearly animalistic groan that climbs from the depths of her chest and squeezes out past her detained windpipe. She doesn’t need to try as hard when his opposite arm shimmies up over the poorly-cushioned sleeping bag, when his hand clamps against her mouth, palm smushing over her lips. Instead, her high whimper catches on his skin and muffles out. Her nostrils flare over his digits when Harry shushes and chastises through grunts.

“I know, baby. I know. Need you to be — shit — a good, quiet girl for me, though.”

Her irises nearly loll back into her skull, fluttery for the ceiling of fabric in their sockets at the dominating tone of his cadence.

“Gonna be good for me? Make me—“ his words taper off when he muzzles a groan with the seal of his own lips, and what comes out is hushed, and masculine, and obviously bridled. But it doesn’t make her as hungry as when he beckons, “—Make me pleased with you?”

Because she wants to please him, wants to be good, wants his digits to press harder over her tongue when he slinks them into her mouth. It’s not her fault when the motion siphons a whimper. So Harry does — press harder that is, an inclination for her lips to wrap over his fingers, his chin tucked over her shoulder. His mouth presses to her temple, gracing her with puffs of air through his nose as he rocks into her.

“There we go,” Harry coos, soft and barely over a whisper when her mouth seals over the intrusive digits, “There’s a good girl. Let’s keep those pretty sounds to ourselves.”

He rocks into her until she’s whining into his hand, until they’re really slick with sweat, and he’s grazing at his own peak, working until it unravels him from the inside out. She’s still making hushed sounds against his palm when he groans all low into her hair and his motions melt into something stuttery, when he empties ribbon after ribbon as she clenches over him and milks him through it.

He’s probably going to rifle through the dark for some discarded fragment of fabric to clean the mess. It’ll be haphazard on account of the night, and she’ll still feel the sticky remnants, dried up at the peaks of her inner thighs in the morning. But it won’t really be gross. Sort of a sordid, morning-after keepsake, sort of a dirty thrill as they pack their stuff among the others in their cohort. Sort of, probably, an excuse to fuck later in the day when they have a moment alone to themselves, reminiscing on the night before.

But before that, he’ll probably clean his mess and run a hand down the vale of her side in a praising caress, like he normally does. Probably lay next to her for a bit before sneaking off to his own tent because, even though they’re just friends that fuck, he’s never been weird about cuddling — aftercare is sort of a must. He’ll probably say goodnight with another searing kiss, the kind that burns deep inside, because every time he leaves is kerosene actively poured into the pit of a bonfire. Because every time he leaves, she wants him more.

Tomorrow they’ll still be friends.

Just friends that fuck.

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