#Harry: I can talk to snakes :)

[solosolace]

Ok so I have come across a problem in my wonderful Bat-Potter Au (working on a title) sooo should I have just Dick, the three/four batboys or everyone.

'cause I like the dynamics that could happen with each option, but it would affect age and how it would happen.

timeline is trash in the dcu so them all existing in the 90's could happen. bats would just really ahead of his time if everyone's involved.

So far, I've come up with the idea that Bat's on a mission in England one his rouges is being extremely stupid, and they did something, somehow went to Surrey which is completely believable because Harry is just bad luck good luck personified sometimes. so batsy's shows up stops that harry is out and about running around because the D's couldn't care less and the big bat sees him asks him where family is. some explanations petunia is defensive because 'no mister weird bat boy we do take care of him he just dramatic go away'

Bats is a detective works some stuff out -Bla-Bla don't have details yet- and takes in the runty looking black-haired boy like he has done before.

chaos ensues where harry now -after a bit because we need angst in the middle of that but i don't know what flavor- has a bunch of accidental magic mishaps in his amazing American school or around Gotham and everyone just thinks some minor villain is messing with them and then bat is like 'holy shit this kid is a meta' and goes to find a league member to help this kid with his powers because he needs training now thank you very much.

Dumbledore shows up at some point because he gets alerted that harry hasn't been seen in a while and panics thinking death eaters somehow got him (Which could happen in the books ngl nothing prevents that.) and goes to find him in a manor with a few other kids just happy, he thinks about taking harry back because 'the power of family' and Bruce threatens to sue him for child endangerment -worse if harry is in Hogwarts when he gets picked up or Dumbledore showed up after- (He's a hypocrite but I love him)

I think he would a good relationship with most of them after a while but harry is a bit quiet an introverted so he would probably only hang around bats and who ever seeks him out themselves.

I don't think he should be a vigilantly just yet, but he does get the same training. mostly because there are only so many super names that i can think of and sparrow doesn't really make sense in context.

Bats would be extremely protective if Jason is already dead which I think if the three batboys are around would happen before his 2nd or 3rd year he might show back up in 4th or 5th for thematic reasons 'omg Voldemort was resurrected, shit so was my brother.'

should the girls be involved? I don't know much about Cass and Steph and Babs' cannon is weird sometimes, like sometimes Shes young sometimes Shes around bats age so idk.

They would show up during the tournament and maybe before so Bruce and/maybe tim could look at the legalities of the contract which they can't really dispute since they have no clue of the consequences except maybe Azkaban and dementors suck. like they're still giving harry Choclate after his 3rd year bad.

Harry would invite Ron over i think, like Bruce would pay to have a room just for floo travel so harry friends could come by from time to time. Ron would be jealous a bit but would still be run understanding.

Hermione would be trying to read every rare book Bruce has in collection and would constantly ask everyone questions about their lives.

Snape would still hate Harry only harry would be in Slytherin-because tbh I like S!Harry and Bruce would say something about how any traits that let you be a good detective or whatever were a good thing- so he doesn't really look at him and ignores him as often as possible. Harry is a silly guy and after hanging around the bat simply thinks that snape is cool and mysterious and is now his favorite teacher teach simply because he reminds him of a bat.

Harry like to dress in dark clothes and reads whatever he comes across if there happens to be darks arts in there oh well its not like he'll use them (he will) this is basically canon he immediately goes for the dark's arts Bruce does not care depending on age Jason would kinda proud.

Thats about all i have rn whatcha think?

[dark-elf-writes]

…. Look I know we already have the Clint dad for Harry in the MCU but consider

Loki as morally gray parent that radiates mischief and gender.

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part three of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. only, theo was starting to get reckless with your secret.

↬ sfw; angst + hurt/comfort; wc: 3.0k; cw: none; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader

thank you for all the supportive comments! wait for part four for the big showdown...

( masterlist )

The streets of Hogsmeade were blanketed in a soft layer of snow, the air filled with the mingling scents of spiced cider and chocolate wafting from the shops. You tugged your scarf tighter against the biting wind, walking beside Harry while Ron and Hermoine trailed just behind, arguing about the practicality of enchanted earmuffs. The (way too) early christmas decorations hung from every storefront, casting warm, golden light onto the snow-covered cobblestones, and the faint sounds of caroling witches and wizards drifted down from somewhere near the Three Broomsticks.

“Can we stop at Honeydukes before we head back?” Ron asked, cutting off a string of heated reasons for her argument by Hermoine who glared at him darkly. “Honestly, Ron, that is your biggest concern? Buying chocolate frogs?”

Sharing a glance, both you and Harry rolled your eyes at their bickering. You chose to defend Ron, partly because if he hadn't proposed the trip to Honeydukes, you’d have. “It’s a valid concern. Not everyone can survive on determination and revision schedules, Hermione.”

The only response you received was a long sigh, audible even over the whistling wind. When a particularly strong squall almost knocked him against a house front, Harry cursed, glowering at the restless sky. “If the weather stays the same ‘til tomorrow's game, we’ll be knocked off our brooms before we can make Malfoy lose.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Don't you mean, before we can win? Honestly, Harry, I think you’re approaching this very unproductively.” Ruffling a hand through his unruly hair, you smiled at his grim huff. “On the other hand, if petty hostility makes you fly better-”

“You’ve done this a lot lately,” Ron cut you off, earning another pissed look by Hermoine. “Defending them snakes.”

You had? Not that you had noticed, but yes, you may have subconsciously been a little defensive when your friends had badmouthed the Slytherins, seeing as you were dating one of the most sensitive and thoughtful people you knew, who happened to also be a Slytherin. “I am merely advocating for proportionality,” you mumbled, but your voice was picked up by a gust of wind, carried to the wrong ears.

You heard them before you saw them- a drawled out voice from behind, having the four of you turn on your heels. “Advocating for proportionality, are you, Potter? How very noble. I’m sure the world is thrilled to hear another Potter lecture.” A large group of Slytherins had been approaching from behind, unnoticed by all of you. Though shielded by green-bronze scarfs, you could make out the faces of your Slytherin classmates, as well as some sixth years. Flickering over the group, your eyes found Theo's and they locked in silent understanding. If you weren't mistaken, he gave you a little wink, but that might just as well have been a product of your imagination.

“That's rich,” Harry snarled back, ignoring your tugging at his robes to keep going. “Coming from you, Malfoy, who loves to hear himself talk so much he gets himself friends as silent listeners that applaud everything he says!”

Sensing an approaching conflict, you quickly counted the heads of the Slytherin group- you were looking at a four to ten ratio.

Red shot up into Malfoy’s cheeks and you caught a movement of his hand, sliding towards his wand. “Better be careful talking like that, Potter, didn't your parents ever reach you not to pick fights when you’re outmatched? Oh, wait,” he laughed gloatingly and you buried your hands in your brother’s robe in a preventive manner. “Guess they didn't have the chance before they were blown to bits!”

But your warning glare didn't only fix Harry, you had caught a dangerous look in Theo’s eyes as well. As if he had felt his eyes on you, he returned your gaze and his expression softened slightly. You breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

“LISTEN HERE, YOU TWAT!” Ron bellowed from next to you, shaking his clenched fists. Both you and Hermoine shot forward to hold him back, but you made the fatal mistake of letting go of your livid brother, who barged at Malfoy, not even bothering to pull out his wand. His fist collided with his face the moment Ron followed hot on his heels, tackling a surprised Zabini.

“Merlin,” Hermoine muttered and pulled out her wand. Neither of you got to join in the brawl, though, because a very exasperated Theo had strode forward, separated Blaise and Ron and jinxed both Drace and Harry in one move, making both of them jump back and stumble. Some of his friends groaned at him, deprived of the easy victory, but his infamous death glare brought upon them silence in an instant.

Before they could cause any more trouble, you ushered Ron and Harry back on their feet with Hermoine's help, hastily steering them away from the group.

“Hey, Potter!”

Both you and Harry turned around, but the Slytherin sixth year that had spoken was looking at you. “Spare us the moral superiority in the future. You’re as self-absorbed as your little Gryffindor gang. The way you talk, it’s no wonder you don’t have many friends outside Gryffindor. Who could stand you?”

Ouch.

The hurt must have been visible in your features for a second, because his friends howled and patted his shoulder in appreciation. Harry tensed under your grip, but you tightened it and pulled him along as you walked away, Hermoine and Ron hot on your heels.

The whistles and cackles of the group followed you all the way to Honeydukes. Neither of you spoke, Harry seemed to be fuming and you didn't dare say anything to set him off.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You weren't, and you looked at Hermoine apologetically. Instead of listening to whatever your friend had to say, your gaze had gotten lost somewhere at the Slytherin table. Particularly fixed on the dark haired boy in between Riddle and Malfoy, with the face of a brooding storm. Even from the far end of the great hall, you knew the expression as not simply his moodiness but simmering anger, meticulously controlled.

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely and fixed your attention on Hermoine. “What were you saying?”

Sighing, Hermoine flipped open the evening edition of the daily prophet. Some snowflakes were still caught up in her hair, relics of your visit to Hogsmeade. “You’re awfully distracted. Is it because of what that idiot Langley said?”

“Who?” you asked, even though you knew exactly who she meant. His comment had hurt you, but it was nothing you wouldn't get over. No, what held your attention in a vice-like grip that felt oh so gentle was your dear secret boyfriend who, at this exact moment, rose from his seat at the Slytherin table, undoubtedly going for a smoke to the astronomy tower.

Hermoine passed your question over, opting to pretend to read the newspaper as you could feel her careful eyes on you. “He’s in the hospital wing, you know? Langley, I mean.”

“Did he choke on his spite?” You asked absentmindedly, swirling your fork through your soup as your eyes followed Theo leaving the Great Hall. The elegance of his long strides, his upright posture, the bounce of his dark curls. It was probably as good a time as ever to realize that you were utterly and irreversibly in love with that man.

“He got hexed, nobody knows by whom. But they contemplated sending him to St. Mungos, seems like he was hexed within an inch of his life,” Hermoine explained and a realization dawned on you. An image flashed before your waking eye- Theo's expression when you had shoved Harry away. You did believe him capable of hexing Langley into St. Mungos. But you also believed him capable of a high level of intelligence that was missing from this situation.

“Was he?” you asked in a neutral voice and Hermoine nodded, no longer pretending to be interested in the newspaper. “Rumor has it that Nott hexed him, but no eye witnesses have confirmed it to the teachers. Too scared of him and his friends, probably.”

You gave up on your fruitless attempts to transport the soup to your mouth. Abruptly, you stood up and shouldered your bag with a little more force than necessary. “I think I’m going to head to the astronomy tower, I still need to finish some star charts for Professor Sinistra.”

The heavy wooden door of the astronomy tower slammed open when you marched through forcefully, the sound echoing through the chilly, starlit space. Theo didn't flinch as you slammed your bag onto the ground. He was, of course, already there, leaning against the stone wall, cigarette perched between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. It illuminated his face that was calm, almost indifferent. But the sharp line of his jaw gave him away. He’d been waiting for this.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” you snapped, marching toward him with a heaving chest, partly from your run up the stairs, partly of fury. “What were you thinking, hexing Langley in broad daylight, in front of half the school if you can believe the rumors? Are you trying to get us caught?”

Theo exhaled slowly, smoke curling around his face like a shield. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he said, voice low and infuriatingly composed. “That guy deserved worse for what he said to you.”

You’d be lying if his dangerous dark eyes and the gravely tone of his voice didn't do something for you, paired with the fact that he had sent someone to the Hospital wing for you. But that wasn't the point right now. “You were reckless, Theo. What will your friends think? That you just snapped on a whim and decided to hospitalize the guy you hung out with?”

“They’ll trust that I have my reasons,” Theo said smoothly, making not attempts to step closer to your heaving form or meet your eye.

“And what if they believe that reason is me?” you challenged him. When he looked up, your eyes locked and the intensity of his gaze knocked the breath right out of your lungs.

“Then they do,” he simply said, making you gasp in protest. With a flick of his wrist, golden embers rained from his cigarette. “It would not be the end of the world. You wouldn't care, would you?” His gaze grew sharper and you felt utterly disarmed. “You only care that your brother and your Griffindor friends don't find out you’re dating a Slytherin.”

“I know where you’re going with this,” you pressed through pursed lips. “And it's not fair. If you were ready to admit to everyone you’re seeing the Chosen One’s sister, you’d already have.”

The force with which Theo stepped forward caught you off guard. Stopping in front of you, he leaned down and a cloud of smoke pulled you in. “I’ll do it,” he whispered to you, watching your reaction closely. “I’ll go right now and shout it from the fucking rooftops.” Crooking his head, he took a step back. “But you wouldn't want that, would you?”

You didn't answer, because you knew he was right. It was you who was trying to keep this relationship quiet, but it wasn't like you didn't have your reasons. One of them being how your friends would react, sure, but since Theo’s father was a death eater, the Order could see you as a liability as well.

Theo called your name and as if on command, you looked up at him. The cigarette lay glowing on the floor, he hadn't even bothered to smother the embers with his boot. “Are you ashamed of me?” There was a guarded vulnerability in his voice. So rare that you could do nothing but stare at him for a few seconds. Theo waited patiently, but he watched every little change of expression.

“I’m not,” you finally managed to say after you found your voice. You took a pleading step towards him, but he took one back as if on chance. “Are you sure?” he asked and a hint of bitterness laced his composed voice. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re fine with me being your dirty little secret.”

“You’re- you’re not-,” you stammered, your insides were squeezing painfully with the look he gave you. “Theo, you have to understand my situation here! I mean, you didn't even attempt to! You don’t understand what it’s like, Theo. I can’t just… parade this around. Harry, Ron, Hermione-they’d never let it go. And don’t get me started on the rest of Gryffindor!”

A humorless laugh escaped his throat. “You’re an idiot.” Flinching at his tone, you took a step back, but he stalked towards you predatorily. “Do you think you’re the only one who is under pressure here? Last time I checked, the people you answer to aren't ruthless murderers.”

He was right, you knew he was right. But there was a small, defiant part of you that just didn't want to accept it. “Just because you’re ready to tell them doesn't mean I am. They all see me as this perfect girl. I don’t get to make mistakes.”

This goddamn raised eyebrow that managed to stun anyone to silence appeared on his beautiful face. “And I’m the mistake, is that it? Great to know where I stand, Potter.”

“I didn't say that!” you protested, running your hands through your hair in frustration. Theo smiled bitterly. “You didn’t have to. You’d rather keep this quiet, pretend it’s not happening, because being with me doesn’t fit your perfect Gryffindor image.”

Anger started to bubble up in your chest once more and you clenched your fists, infuriated by his seemingly indifferent calm. “You think this is easy for me? Sneaking around, lying to my friends? If they found out about us, they’d never trust me again!” Your breath got caught in your throat as your voice grew quiet. “You don’t get it, Theo. I can’t afford to mess this up. People expect me to be perfect, and being with you… it’s not the safe choice. But it’s my choice, okay? Doesn’t that mean something?”

With an abrupt turn, Theo walked towards the railing and turned his back to you. A ruffle, a click, a soft golden glow and finally, a cloud of smoke rising from his figure as if he was burning from the inside. His voice was so hushed you had trouble understanding it, drawing closer but still keeping your distance. “You know, for someone so stubborn, you’re really bad at fighting with me.”

“That’s because I don’t want to fight with you.” you said imploringly, taking tentative steps toward him. Though he most certainly noticed even the most quiet of sounds, he didn't turn around. A long sigh left Theo’s lips and a large puff of smoke rose up to the stars. “Neither do I.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” you asked, fiddling with your fingers. “I know I’m not handling this the way you deserve.”

Finally, Theo turned around to you and you were taken aback by the sudden vulnerability in his expression. Theo’s features were often closed off, hard to read, unmovable. But now, his eyes were heavy with emotion- a mix of regret and sadness, though a light smile played along his lips. “I’m not asking for perfect. I’m just asking for you to … trust me.”

You closed the distance between you and Theo exhaled the last puff of smoke into the chilly night air before he stepped on his cigarette. His arms reached for you and you almost threw yourself into them. You hated fighting. Once around you, his hold tightened and you felt your face pressed up against his warm chest. The tremble of an exhale left your lips as you closed your eyes and relaxed in his hold. “I do, Theo. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I wouldn’t be doing this- any of this- if I didn’t think you were worth it.”

You only got a soft rumble of his chest in response. His smell surrounded you, clouded you, and you thought to yourself you might get addicted to cigarettes if he kept smelling like them. “This might be a bad time for stuff like that, but… I've never felt like this about anyone.”

When you lifted your head from his chest, you found him already looking at you. And you had to appreciate how he must have turned down every wall he had so carefully constructed around himself to look at you with such a raw expression. “Me neither,” he almost breathed, locking your fingers. He shook his head disapprovingly. “Tesoro, your hands are ice bricks.”

“Why don't you kiss them better, then?” you asked hopefully, relieved to see a smile appear on his face. Theo brought your locked hands up to his lips and pressed slow, gentle kisses to the back of your hand. The soft tingle that followed his touch warmed your whole body.

“We’re going to have to actually talk about this, you know.” he said and you nodded slightly.

“I know. Just… not tonight.”

tag list: @annaisabookworm @empath-bunny @k0z3me @slutfordpr @aespaslut @kiarst @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @fakem0net @sammyreid @tulipsc @yasmin-oviedo @lazycrazyme

[tyrantisterror]

For whatever reason, I found myself thinking about the theme of heritage/inheritance in Harry Potter and how it's, like, catastrophically broken in the text.

The villains in Harry Potter are almost unanimously racist and classist - they believe they are entitled to behave however they wish and live at the top of the social hierarchy because they were born to rich, pureblooded families, and anyone who wasn't is filth to be exploited and/or purged. That's the philosophy of evil in the book - "I deserve everything because I was born in the right family with the right genes and the right social standing. My heritage makes me better than you."

All the injustice and evil in the books is rooted in this belief in entitlement by way of heritage. People are abused and die because of it. Inherited wealth and status, and more specifically the unfair priveleges it affords, is the root of evil in Harry Potter.

So you'd think the protagonist would present some sort of strong contrast to it, right? That they'd be born poor, or mixed race, etc. But no, Harry is from a rich pureblood family, with the vast wealth and social status that affords.

Well, that's OK, we can still make a contrast. Maybe Harry differs in how he acts with wealth - perhaps, realizing his inheritance is an unfair privilege, he gives it away? Maybe he works to give the underprivileged their due? Again, no, not really. He sometimes buys stuff for his poor friend Ron, and defends his "mudblood" friend Hermione from racist criticism, but he sees no reason to change the system that dehumanizes them in the first place, and by the end of the tale is pleased to exploit his privilege for his own gain.

The whole house elf subplot illustrates this failing well - we have a race of slaves who are frequently shown to suffer from abuse. One of them, the property of a rich racist, risks his life to save Harry, and Harry frees him in return. Oh, nice, finally fighting the system, eh? Except no, not really - while Harry frees that specific slave, he's content to leave the others in bondage, especially when he inherits a slave of his own.

The contrast Harry Potter puts up against its rich, racist, privileged villains is "Hey, being rich and higher in the hierarchy is awesome and just, but you can't be a dick about it." That slaves belong in the dirt, but masters should be polite while putting them in their place.

Voldemort posits himself as the heir of Slytherin - claiming his inheritance is vital to his rise to power and villainy. And Harry opposes him by... also claiming inheritance from a rich old dead guy. Hell, the final battle comes down to who rightfully inherits a specific rare Wand!

The fact that Harry and Voldemort have shit in common is not a flaw on its own - villains and heroes are often foils for each other. But in this specific tale, the relationship the villain has with inherited power is so central to the conflict that the hero having the exact same relationship is a major failing. The story is just shy of saying "Voldemort was basically right, but he shouldn't have been rude about it." It's bad from both a moral and a writing skill perspective.

(The only inheritance Harry fully rejects is parseltongue, i.e. the ability to talk to snakes, which was accidentally given to him by Voldemort, and could be argued to be a symbol of trauma rather than inherited wealth. Also I'm still salty about how that series turned on snakes so cruelly, but that's a whole other rant.)

[imagineweasley]

I Love You Deerly

Harry Potter x Reader

summary: after a DA meeting, you and your boyfriend harry take a second to be alone together.

y/n: your name

word count: 0.9k

submit requests here! | masterlist

author's note: basically no plot, just so much fluff! fluff here, fluff there, fluff everywhere!!

--

"Fantastic job tonight everyone! See you all next Tuesday, 8 pm sharp!" Harry claps his hands and grins at the DA.

The group disperses, happily chatting amongst themselves. Tonight's meeting was pretty successful, so the group is in a cheery mood. We'd been working on Expecto patronum for the past two weeks, and today, a few more students, including myself, had been able to conjure our patronuses. I weave my way through the crowd towards Harry, who's standing in the far corner of the room with Neville, who looks dejected. Poor Neville. I can't blame him, he's been trying really hard for the last two meetings with only a few wisps of his patronus to show for it.

"See ya later y/n!" Hermione smiles and waves at me as she passes.

Ron on the other hand salutes me and says, "Remember you promised to lend me your potions notes tonight y/n!" I call after him, "I did no such thing Ronald!" I laugh and shake my head before turning back around.

"... such a hard thing to achieve, most people our age can't even get what you got consistently. Trust me, by next month you'll be an expert. It takes time." I walk up to Harry and Neville and chime in, "Yeah, and look at Zacharius, I thought the vein in his forehead would pop today and he came nowhere near what you did." Neville jumps but then smiles sheepishly when he realizes it's me, even laughing under his breath. Harry also turns at my voice and his gaze softens when he meets my eyes. With a big grin on his face, he rubs Neville's shoulder one more time before patting his arm.

"Don't lose it just yet, mate. You're really, truly doing great."

"Thanks guys." Neville wipes his nose and smiles at the both of us, "I'll see you around!" In much better spirits, Neville grabs his sweater and heads out.

Once we're alone, Harry steps towards me and wraps me in a tight embrace, and my face ends up smushed in his chest

"Mmmph - hey, mm, can't breathe here!" Harry laughs and kisses the top of my head before loosening his grip.

"Sorry love, I'm sorry, I've just been waiting to do that since you walked into the room. It's hard to focus on everyone else here when you're right there, you know?"

I smile up at him before wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

"Maybe... I should... stop... coming... so you... can focus!" I peck his lips between every word and he snakes his arms around my waist.

"Little... do you know... that's... useless... because... you're... always... on... my... mind!" Harry plants big kisses on the top of my head, my forehead, my cheeks, each ear, and the rest on my lips, making me giggle like a little girl.

"By the way... a doe?" He's talking about my patronus that revealed itself today, a graceful doe. As soon as I had conjured it, it had pranced in a circle around Harry and his stag before returning to me. Everyone had paused in their own efforts to stare, jaws dropped. Hermione had gasped and grabbed onto Ron's arm and she gazed up at it with wide eyes and a huge smile.

"Mmm what a surprise, huh?" I look up at Harry and he looks back at me fondly, grinning so wide I think his face might crack in two.

"Maybe we can make our patronuses kiss in front of everyone."

I laugh before wriggling out of his grasp to retrieve my things. "You are ridiculous Mr. Potter, utterly ridiculous."

I don't make it far before Harry pounces and wraps himself around me from behind, "Where do you think you're going!"

"Hey!" I lose my balance and we both fall to the ground onto one of the mats, giggling. I roll onto my back so he's on top of me, our limbs entangled and our noses touching. He rubs our noses together before kissing me and I can't but melt into the it. Almost two years of dating and his kisses still never fail to make me all fluttery inside.

He pulls away, suddenly serious, and leans his forehead against mine.

"You know I couldn't have done this without you, you know?"

"Yes you absolutely could have, and you know it."

"Actually, I know that I wouldn't have been able to. You're my strength, my love. You were the one who encouraged me to take the risk. You were the one who believed that I could do it when I didn't."

I cup his cheek and he leans into it before continuing, "Even during meetings when I don't think I can, all I have to do is look for you and your smile tells me I can keep going. I have to keep going. For you. For us."

My heart swells with his words and all I can think about is how in love I am with this boy, with the Boy Who Lived And Captured My Heart. "Merlin, I love you so much, Harry." He lets his head rest on my chest and I snuggle into him.

"I love you, y/n."

I close my eyes and lean into my boyfriend while I mindlessly run my fingers through his hair. We lay in comfortable silence.

"Y/n?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we stay here for a second?"

"Of course, my love. Let's stay here forever."

[hollowed-theory-hall]

We don't talk enough about Ron's mean streak

Like, I saw a lot of people talk about how funny Ron is (which is true, he's genuinely one of the funnier characters in the series), how loyal he is when it counts, he's brave as hell, and he is really smart, just not book smart. But what I don't see talked about enough (maybe it's just me though), is Ron Weasley's mean streak.

I talked about how Harry most definitely has what it takes to be a Slytherin, can be scary, and is willing to kill when push comes to shove. I also mentioned Hermione's ruthlessness, but I didn't discuss Ron's mean streak which is a joy when I see it crop up in the book. When it comes up, it always reminds me of the twins, and I feel like that's where Ron got it from.

So I'm just going to bring up a few quotes I had in my notes showing Ron's mean streak, I'm sure I missed some from the earlier books, but I find it a fun aspect of his character.

Snape cried: “Expelliarmus!” There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. “Do you think he’s all right?” she squealed through her fingers. “Who cares?” said Harry and Ron together.

(CoS, 178)

This type of reaction is seen with Ron pretty often. He really doesn't care when someone he dislikes is hurt or injured and he is very vocal about it. He and Harry kinda share this trait, as seen above.

Later in the other quotes I bring up, I show that Hermione is the one usually playing morality police for Ron and Harry even if she herself isn't as innocent as she likes to act.

He raised Ron’s Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, “Obliviate!” The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock. “Ron!” he shouted. “Are you okay? Ron!” “I’m here!” came Ron’s muffled voice from behind the rockfall. “I’m okay — this git’s not, though — he got blasted by the wand —” There was a dull thud and a loud “ow!” It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

(CoS, 280)

I love this, Lockhart explodes the cave, obliviates himself, and Ron's reaction is to kick him in the shins. I don't know, I just find it hilarious.

“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened. “Why not?” said Hermione in surprise. “Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . .” Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates. “He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” she said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —” “Hermione!” said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, “you’re ruining the best moment of my life!”

(GoF, 207)

Here you see Hermione the morality police crop up, but I'm talking about Ron here.

Hermione is definitely right in that Draco could've been seriously hurt, but Ron is just glad he saw Malfoy suffering. Actually, in the scene before it, Ron was the one who wanted to curse Malfoy and was held back by Harry and Hermione (as well as in the eat slugs situation in CoS), like, with as much as Harry calls Draco his nemesis, it really feels like Ron is the one that hates Draco and thinks of him as his nemesis.

“She’s an awful woman [Umbridge],” said Hermione in a small voice. “Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we’ve got to do something about her.” “I suggested poison,” said Ron grimly.

(OotP, 324)

I love you, Ron.

This is one of my favorite quotes for him. Hermione shuts down the poison idea, but I think they should've given it a shot, I think it could've been fun.

It would've been cathartic for them at least.

“You take Remedial Potions?” asked Zacharias Smith superciliously, having cornered Harry in the entrance hall after lunch. “Good Lord, you must be terrible, Snape doesn’t usually give extra lessons, does he?” As Smith strode away in an annoyingly buoyant fashion, Ron glared after him. “Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here,” he said, raising his wand and taking aim between Smith’s shoulder blades. “Forget it,” said Harry dismally. “It’s what everyone’s going to think, isn’t it? That I’m really stup —”

(OotP, 528)

I love how Ron always has Harry's back and is ready to fight anyone (including Sirius who he thought was a mass murderer when he was 13 with a broken leg) for Harry's sake. It's a real vibe the Golden Trio has that they're just ready to drop everything and curse out anyone for each other's sake. They are just so protective of each other and I love this for them, how they are all just each other's people, yk.

It's also another example of how Ron is the one of the trio that offers violence as the answer the most often.

“Reparo!” said Hermione quickly, mending Ron’s cup with a wave of her wand. “That’s all very well, but what if Montague’s permanently injured?” “Who cares?” said Ron irritably, while his teacup stood drunkenly again, trembling violently at the knees. “Montague shouldn’t have tried to take all those points from Gryffindor, should he? If you want to worry about anyone, Hermione, worry about me!”

(OotP, 679)

Again Ron doesn't care for the injury of people who he considers deserving.

“Madam Pomfrey says she’s just in shock,” whispered Hermione. “Sulking, more like,” said Ginny. “Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this,” said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking wildly around.

(OotP, 849)

Like, regardless of whether Umbridge was SAed or not (for the record, I don't think she was) it's not a nice thing to do. Umbridge is awful, but this is Ron literally spreading salt on the wound. but like I mentioned above, she's in the "deserving it" category.

“will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you? She’s driving me mad as well.” “Oh,” said Ron, looking sheepish. “Yeah. All right.” “If you don’t want to go out with her anymore, just tell her,” said Harry.

(HBP, 411)

That is honestly so mean. Like, I'm not Lavender's biggest fan, I find her annoying, but she's a teenage girl in her maybe first relationship and she did nothing really wrong. I feel truly sorry for her for how Ron treated her, it wasn't really her fault. It's just mean that he pretends to sleep instead of talking to her.

“Same as he wanted at Christmas,” shrugged Harry. “Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry’s new poster boy.” Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, “Look, let me go back and hit Percy!” “No,” she said firmly, grabbing his arm. “It’ll make me feel better!”

(HBP, 650)

Like, this is peak sibling behavior, but as I mentioned earlier, Ron tends to want to resort to violence more often than Harry and Hermione do (especially in the earlier books, as Harry does grow angrier after Sirius' death). He is usually the one to bring violence up, and I find it an interesting aspect of his character.

And Ron is correct in the fact hitting Percy would make him feel better. Not saying if it's the right thing to do, but Ron really would experience it as satisfying because Percy would deserve it in his mind.

“What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.” Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head.

(DH, 167)

As I mentioned in one of the Harry posts, Harry is calling the shots, but Ron is the one who offered to kill the Death Eaters. He put that idea on the table. He was relieved when Harry said they shouldn't kill them, but if Harry said it'd be better if they killed them — Ron would've backed him up and done it, while Hermione might've preferred to pretend it wasn't happening.

“That treacherous old bleeder.” Ron panted, emerging from beneath the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it to Harry. “Hermione you’re a genius, a total genius. I can’t believe we got out of that.” “Cave Inimicum. . . Didn’t I say it was an Erumpent horn, didn’t I tell him? And now his house has been blown apart!” “Serves him right,” said Ron, examining his torn jeans and the cuts to his legs, “What’d you reckon they’ll do to him?” “Oh I hope they don’t kill him!” groaned Hermione, “That’s why I wanted the Death Eaters to get a glimpse of Harry before we left, so they knew Xenophilius hadn’t been lying!”

(DH, 424)

Again, Ron not caring/enjoying when people who deserve it suffer. Xenophilius wanted to help them, he tried to persuade them not to come into his home at first so he wouldn't give them in, he tried so hard even though the Death Eaters had his daughter! Harry rightly feels bad for Xenophilius and Luna, it's easy to understand why he did what he did.

Hermione and Harry hope he is fine, but Ron is the one who thinks he has it coming. That he deserves to have his house blown up for betraying them, regardless of his reasoning.

I think Ron is the most black-and-white in his thoughts about people among the trio. There are those who deserve anything that comes to them and those who don't. Specific circumstances and context don't really play a part in what bad people deserve coming to them.

I don't know, I just find this interesting.

Harry has the compassion to understand people, even ones who harmed him or the people he cares about, he is capable of forgiving Voldemort and never really hated Draco.

Hermione is pretty black-and-white in her view of people, having the people she trusts and those she doesn't. She trusts Snape because he's an authority figure trusted by Dumbledore (and Hermione is the one who is truly Dumbledore's woman true and true in the books). Her view on people has less to do with their actions, but who they are endorsed by. She is compassionate to Xenophilius because he's Luna's dad, and Luna is good, therefore, she wouldn't love someone who is bad.

Ron is black-and-white in how he sees people in a very different way than Hermione. He looks at actions, and if you do anything to try and harm him or people he cares about, you get on the shit list. Getting out of Ron's shit list is probably not easy, he doesn't strike me as one who forgives easily and readily the way Harry does, but he does forgive. Like actions can get you on his shit list, actions can get you out. But once a person is on the shit list, they deserve any harm that comes their way.

But Ron is really loyal, and there are people he loves who are basically immune from going on the shit list (like his family, yes, even Percy. While he wants to hit him, I don't believe Ron ever really wished death on Percy). And there is just something interesting about Ron, with his mean streak and everything, being the glue that holds the trio together. Like, in Deathly Hallows once he leaves, Harry and Hermione barely talk to each other, they are barely friends without Ron there.

I don't know, I just love Ron. I love how he is loyal, and friendship glue, but has just as much of a mean streak to him as Harry and Hermione can pull. I just feel like he's sometimes left out of the discussion of how ruthless Harry and Hermione could be. Like, it's true, both of them can be ruthless, but don't leave Ron out. He can be ruthless and actually offers violence as a solution more often than Harry or Hermione do.

[freedomfireflies]

Love Me*

Summary: The fifth and final part to Teach Me*

You and your best friend Harry have a few things to figure out.

So, why not figure them out while you're riding his face?

Word Count: 8.1k

*Contains Mature and Explicit Content. Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!*

“Watermelon.”

Instantly, you go deathly still, muscles straining as the word echoes around the walls of your mind. Repeating itself over, and over, and over.

You attempt to sit up, but he doesn’t let you. He keeps his arms around you like a vice, caging you against his chest as his heart races beneath your cheek.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, a certain ringing in your ears that won’t quiet. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

Somehow, his touch constricts even tighter, snaking around your ribcage as if to suffice as his reply.

“Harry?” you ask a bit louder, and you feel him stiffen at the sudden volume. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

He’s quiet. Far too quiet as his chin meets the crown of your head. 

“Harry,” you stress for a third time. “What happened? What is it? If you’re gonna use your safe word, you have to tell me—”

“Nothing,” he breathes, fingers digging into the skin on your side. Bracing himself from the truth. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Never mind?” you nearly gasp as he finally lets go, allowing you to scramble upright. “Harry…you can’t say that and then never mind—”

“I didn’t mean to say it,” he mumbles, meeting your eye for only a moment before his lashes flutter and he looks off into the bedroom. “I just…I forgot. It’s nothing. Everything’s fine, okay? Just forget it.”

He pushes himself up as you climb off the bed, but your attention never leaves him. Studying his expression closely to find the real answer. 

“Harry…” you venture cautiously, and again, you catch the way he hesitates. “If I did something—”

“No.” His answer is instantaneous, head shaking once before he looks up. “No. I told you, it’s fine. Really—”

“It can’t be fine if you said it—”

“Well, I didn’t mean to—”

“How can you not have meant to? What were you trying to say? Nothing else really sounds like watermelon—”

“Just…forget it, okay?” he sighs as he stands up and reaches for his boxers. “What’s the opposite of watermelon? I’ll say that.”

“Harry,” you huff for the hundredth time. “You…look, if there’s something we need to talk about—”

“There’s not.” The conviction in his voice is final as he proceeds to slip his shirt back on. 

You’re slow to do the same, shimmying back into your clothes while also trying to maintain his focus. “We agreed that this only worked if we talked to each other. If we trusted each other—”

“This has nothing to do with trust, Bee,” he insists as he glances over at you. “I told you, it’s fine—”

“It’s not fine.” You nearly want to whine at his stubbornness. You’ve known him long enough to understand his little tricks. His tells. The way he avoids confrontation.

The way he avoids how he really feels.

“It is,” he says again, now brushing past you toward the door. “Okay? So…please. Just forget it.”

“I can’t forget it,” you argue as you follow him to the kitchen. “It’s a safe word for a reason. It means that you can say it and feel safe. That you can tell me what’s wrong, and what you’re thinking—”

“I don’t—” he begins before his eyes squeeze together and his jaw clamps shut. “I’m thinking I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Okay? I just…I wanna drop it. So let’s drop it.”

You watch as he braces himself against the kitchen sink, hands gripping onto the tub as he leans back and aims his glare at the floor.

And it hurts. It hurts to go from happily content in his arms to anxiously dejected a few feet away.

It hurts to know that there’s clearly something wrong that he refuses to share. Hurts to know you can’t help. Even after everything.

You taught him how to touch you.

But not how to talk to you.

You straighten up. “Fine,” you agree. “Fine, we’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

The small space falls quiet as you do your best to ignore the ever-present ringing in your ears.

Dropping it doesn’t fix it.

But you don’t know what else to do.

“I think…I think I’m gonna go,” you whisper, already taking a step back.

His head lifts, lips parting as he watches you move away from him. “Oh…okay.”

Despite it all, you wish he’d ask you to stay.

After retrieving your things from his room, you head for the door to his apartment, your heart dragging behind you on the floor.

He doesn’t move from his spot. He doesn’t chase after you or try to explain. He watches you walk away from him as if he always expected you to.

You pause to glance over your shoulder and find him. To offer him one last chance. “Harry?”

“…yeah?”

You take a deep breath. “Do you regret it now?”

You half expected his answer to come as quickly as the others.

But this one doesn’t.

This one seems to catch in his throat as his expression falls. “…I don’t know.”

And that tells you everything.

You don’t hear from Harry for three days.

He doesn’t text you. You don’t text him.

He doesn’t call you. You don’t call him.

You’re not trying to be petty. You’re not even trying to punish him, you’re just…

Confused.

You and Harry don’t fight. Not once in the fifteen years that you’ve known each other.

Sometimes you’ll get into spats. Or heated arguments. But you don’t ice each other out. You don’t resort to games and the silent treatment.

If that’s even what this is.

You knew opening this door in your friendship would make it impossible to close.

And now, it’s letting in a draft.

And after everything you felt with him, after everything you realized…

Having him so far away, so distant…makes you feel empty.

Incomplete.

As if there’s a missing piece to your puzzle.

You allow yourself to wonder if he’s simply learned all that he’s needed to learn from you. If he’s ready to be a good partner for Tina, and ready to resume just a platonic, non-sexual friendship with you.

Which you’d be more than okay with.

Really.

You would.

You’d have to be.

Because you don’t want to know what happens…if you wouldn’t.

So, you shove all thoughts of Harry and his lessons away. You reject each memory of his hands, and his lips, and his body, and his cock.

And you continue on with your life. You revert back to the way it was before, when it was just you and your vibrator.

But nothing is ever that simple, and you should have anticipated that even before there was a frantic knock on your door.

Confused, you toss your throw blanket aside and stand from the couch.

And when you swing the door open, you find Harry. Standing in your hallway. Slightly out of breath and wearing a curious expression on his face.

Kind of like the day he asked to eat you out.

The rush of deja vu almost overwhelms you as you blink at him. “…uh, hi?”

“Hi.” His greeting is as rushed as his gasp for air, as if he ran all the way up the five flights of stairs. 

“What…are you doing here?” you ask hesitantly, letting your eyes trail down his body, cautiously looking for an explanation.

There’s a pause as he seems to study you back before he straightens up and takes a step forward.

“I’m finishing the list,” he exhales before seizing your face between his hands and kissing you.

You don’t have time to grasp onto the concept of his lips as he walks you backward toward the wall, kicking the door shut on his way in.

And he takes. Exactly the way he had before. He takes and he savors, and he owns. He says everything with this one kiss. Everything you know he can never say aloud.

Everything.

You don’t fight him on it. You probably should. Should probably stop him and ask him what he’s doing. Ask him what happened, what changed.

But maybe you don’t wanna know what’s changed. Maybe you’re just grateful it did.

So, you kiss him back. You kiss him, and you whisper his name, and you let your hands scratch down the back of his neck.

And you revel in the way he groans. In the way he drags his teeth down your throat to freshen up the already fading marks from the time before.

Then, his fingers trail down your arm to latch onto your wrist. And he tugs. Tugs you away from the wall he had pressed against so he can drag you toward your room.

“What are you doing?” you murmur as you scramble after him, an excited shiver traveling down your spine.

“You’re gonna sit on my face,” he declares, practically slinging you toward the bed. “Gonna sit on my fucking face and let me taste you.”

Your ass meets the mattress as he towers above. And despite how enthralled the idea has you…you pause. “Harry…I don’t know if that’s—”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he interrupts, leaning down to press his palms to the bed, caging you between his arms. “I don’t wanna talk, I don’t want to overthink…I just want you to sit on my face.”

Your lashes flutter. “Harry—”

“No,” he repeats. He offers a single shake of his head. “No. You said this is about trust, right?”

“Right, but—”

“So trust me,” he whispers, dipping closer until the tip of his nose brushes against yours. “Trust me when I say it’s fine. Trust me…when I say the only thing I want…is to have you ride my tongue.”

And right now as you stare at him, and feel him, and inhale him…you have no other choice but to trust him, too.

“Okay,” you breath, already desperate to have him touch you. Hold you. Remind you why it felt so right in the first place.

“Okay?” he checks, the corner of his mouth curling up in a pleased smile.

You nod. “Okay. I trust you.”

And he’s overcome with exhilaration as he grabs onto the back of your neck to bring your mouth to his.

It’s only been two minutes—tops. But you’d missed his kisses. Missed having his lips on yours. Missed the way he completely owned you. 

Missed the way he made you his.

He guides you onto your back, laying you against the mattress comfortably while allowing him the room to crawl on top of you.

And his frantic touches follow you all the way down, his nimble fingers dancing up your shirt until they can find your bare chest.

You gasp into his bottom lip as he takes you into his palm, effortlessly and expertly caressing you until you’re arching into his touch. 

He groans when he feels you. Takes pleasure in having you. Getting to hold you the way he is now. Explore you.

His knee makes a home against your cunt, pressing into you subtly, as if to jumpstart the process. And you squirm against it, lungs aching for air as you tangle your hands in his curls.

And for a moment, you both simply enjoy. Enjoy this rather innocent connection. This innocent sensation of your bodies finding a rhythm together. This harmonious link between your body and his.

Then, he scoops his arm beneath your hips and rolls you both over.

Your knees meet the bed, one on each side of his waist as you brace yourself against his chest.

He grins lazily but he’s far too focused on the task at hand. So, he curls his fingers around your sleep shorts and begins to pull them down. 

There’s a bit of awkward shifting and rearranging that follows as you help him toss them aside.

But once they’re off, his palms wrap around the backs of your thighs, and he brings you closer.

You’ve ridden a face before. Have quite enjoyed it, in fact.

But Harry…Harry isn’t just someone. Harry is…Harry.

And riding Harry’s face is a lot different than riding his thigh.

But he doesn’t give you a moment to think about that. And you’re almost positive he knows you are.

Because he shoots you this look of warning before tugging you closer to him, forcing your knees to scuffle a bit closer until you’re exactly where he wants you.

You take hold of the headboard to brace yourself, already tingling from where his fingertips are pressing into your skin.

And you can feel him breathing against you. Soft, chaste kisses being trailed along your inner thigh as he travels his way up. 

He might be new at this, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. At least when it comes to you, and you could almost smile at his attention to detail.

“Relax for me, Bee,” he instructs, nose bumping your clit as your breath hitches. “Come on, it’s all right. Just relax and let me taste you.”

You try to do as instructed, allowing yourself to sink down a bit closer. 

But the moment he drags his tongue through your arousal, you suck in a sharp breath and straighten up.

“Bee,” he growls, hands already pulling you back down. A bit harder than he had before.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, lids growing heavy as the lust-induced haze begins to wash over you. “M’sorry, just don’t…don’t wanna hurt you—”

“And what did I fucking say about that?” he nearly snaps. “Hurt me. Fucking suffocate me, if you have to. Sit on my goddamn face until I can’t breathe.”

“Harry,” you whisper, eyes screwing shut as he repeats his previous action. “I don’t…I can’t—”

The sharp smack to your ass makes your head drop back. It’s loud, and it’s firm, and it stings more than his previous spanking.

But it’s fucking amazing.

“I’m not gonna tell you again,” he warns. “You’re gonna ride my fucking tongue until I’ve had enough. Is that understood?”

You feel yourself clench around nothing from the dominant tone of voice. Nails already scratching down the wood of your headboard as you try to find the strength to speak.

There’s another zealous slap to your skin, his palm painting your body red with salacious intentions. “Answer me, baby girl.”

“Yes,” you whine. “Yes, I understand.”

“That’s my girl,” he hums, lips ghosting your cunt as he speaks. “You do what I say. Go where I tell you to go. Let me put you exactly where I fucking want you.”

And to prove this point, he tugs on your hips until your pussy meets his mouth.

And suddenly everything makes sense.

It’s fucking magic the way he treats you. The way he tastes you. The way he covers his tongue in your need for him. 

He sucks and he swallows, and he pulls you so far down onto him that you’re surprised you don’t disappear into him.

But it’s…

Everything.

The only concept you truly understand in this moment. Him and his mouth and this endless desire to take. To have.

And you let him. Let him have you. Let him roll you over his tongue as he laps at you like he’s an animal.

“Harry,” you breathe for a second time, legs shaking from beside his head. “Fuck…please—”

Another spank lands firmly against your outer thigh. You can’t tell if this is to please you or to punish you, but either way…you enjoy it.

You swallow another curse as you surrender to his instructions, allowing yourself to be guided even further down.

“That’s it,” he says before nipping at your clit with his teeth. “Knew you liked it. Knew you needed me to take care of you, didn’t you?”

Your whimper comes from deep in the back of your throat as you let one hand travel down to his hair.

And when you scratch at his scalp with bliss, he smiles.

“Oh, you did,” he answers for you. “Needed someone to make it better. Needed someone to do it right.”

And those stories you used to tell him about Eric come rushing back as you’re reminded of all the ways he’d never been able to get you off.

And the way Harry has done nothing but get you off since the moment you started.

 “Don’t you?” he pushes, clearly wanting to hear your confirmation, and you’re not surprised he has a praise kink. “Fucking needed me—”

“Yes,” you tell him. “Yes, always needed you—”

Another slap. “That’s right. Know you do. Know you need someone to make you feel so fucking good. Make you come the way you deserve. Make you see fucking stars—”

You cry out something resembling his name as his fingers begin to scrape down your legs. Forcing you impossibly closer. Forcing you to give him everything.

And he’s relentless. You truly cannot fathom anything besides the feel of his lips on your pussy or the way he holds you over his face or even the way he speaks to you. The low vibrations dancing right up the back of your spine.

Your mind is blank. Filled with nothing but images and feelings and ideas. Of the pleasure barreling toward you at an alarming rate. At the way he’s been working on you for only a few minutes but already you’re at the mercy of his objective. 

“Please, please, please.” The word drips from your mouth like falling rain. Over, and over, and over. You can’t do anything else but beg. Beg him to keep going, beg him to go harder, beg him to never stop.

“So fucking good,” he murmurs, tongue driving inside before curling. Beckoning your release closer. “Aren’t you, baby girl? So fucking good for me—”

You nod, lip between your teeth as you chew. 

“Make me so happy,” he says, nails clawing at the base of your spine. “Don’t you? Make Daddy so proud—”

“Shit—” Your forehead finds the headboard as you tug on his curls. It’s almost too much. Yet somehow not enough. “Harry—”

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, guiding you up as your chest just about caves in. “No. Try again.”

“Har—”

“Try again.”

Your eyes roll, half from the pleasure but mostly from the pain of his annoyance before you oblige. “Daddy…please.”

He doesn’t answer with words, instead forcing you back down to continue his ministrations. 

He knows you’re close. You know he knows. And his desire to get you there is power in itself. 

Because even after everything, even after fighting, even after years of friendship and dad jokes…he wants to take care of you.

Wants to give you exactly what you deserve.

So…he does.

The sound of his name on your tongue is dissolute and depraved. Needy and pathetic and filled with the kind of yearning you yourself don’t even understand.

But you welcome the relief with open arms. Welcome the way he holds onto you as he swallows the rush that follows.

And he fucking groans. In a similarly desperate way that nearly doubles the length of your orgasm. 

He’s never sounded so content. So satisfied and pleased. And you do feel good. Feel so good to have made him so proud. To have been the reason for this eager agreeance. 

But then…he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t stop, even after you’ve attempted to squirm up and away from his continued attempts. Even after you’ve whined, “Harry,” and scratched a little harder on his scalp.

He keeps going.

“Har,” you sigh, already too sensitive to form a cohesive thought. “Har…s’okay…I came—”

“I know,” he says simply, palms pressing into your side to keep you exactly where you are. “And you’re gonna come again.”

“Harry,” you gasp, almost as if shocked by the very idea. “Har, I…s’too—”

“What?” His tongue flattens against your cunt before dragging up toward your clit. “Overstimulation was on your list, right?”

Your lashes flutter rapidly as you rest one hand back on the headboard. “I’m…yes…yeah—"

“Then you’re gonna come for me again,” he informs you. “And again. And again, until I’ve decided you’re done.”

And you want to argue. Wanted to tell him that you’re exhausted but you can already feel the next one on its way.

Because he’s speaking to you in that familiarly aggressive way that makes your heart pound. That makes your skin erupt into goosebumps and your brain turn to mush.

God, his voice. His voice alone could do damage. Could tip you over the edge a hundred times. He could be whispering the fucking alphabet and you’d be putty in his hands.

And maybe it shouldn’t be so easy to turn you so submissive, but you’ll happily do as he asks as long as he keeps asking you in that voice.

As long as he keeps telling you that your pleasure is his. That you…are his.

Nobody else exists outside of this room. Not Eric. Not Tina. Not any future lovers or partners.

Not even any consequences.

Right now, in this room…it’s just you.

The second one doesn’t hit as hard as the first, but it still knocks you off-kilter, forcing you to shake within his hold.

But he keeps you steady. In more ways than one. He makes sure you don’t have the room or space to crawl off him, or even think about takingyour pussy away from his greedy search.

“Harry,” you mewl, pulling so hard on his curls that it has to hurt. “Please…please—”

You aren’t sure if you’re asking him to stop or let you come again, but either way, he pursues the third one. 

And this time…he adds his hand.

After repositioning you just so, he easily slips two fingers inside, meeting your g-spot almost instantly. 

You nearly go blind from how good it feels, how hard it hits you. From how happy you are to find relief in his arms.

The third is kinder to you. Shorter but much more intense. Like a burst of pure adrenaline and euphoria. 

It almost hurts when you finally begin to unwind, and his movements start to slow. He must be able to tell you don’t have too much left to offer and you appreciate the way he eases out of you with great care.

He helps shuffle you back until you can collapse onto the bed beside him. But he doesn’t let you go too far, one arm wrapping around your shoulders to help cement you into his side.

Your leg tangles between the two of his while your face buries into his neck. You’re spent. Physically and emotionally. But he allows you a moment to rest, fingers stroking your skin gently to help bring you back to him.

“You okay?” he murmurs, turning his head so his lips can meet your forehead. “S’it too much?”

“No,” you breathe, eyes falling closed as you inhale the comforting scent of his cologne. “No, it was good. A little confusing…but good.”

And you know he knows what you mean.

But still, he chooses not to respond. Chooses not to offer any sort of insight into what happened that day in his room.

Instead, his arm pulls you closer. “Well…did we cover everything? Is there anything left to check off?”

Your head rolls back so you can see him, the idea already taking root in your mind. “I can think of one more thing…if you’re up for it.”

His eyebrow raises.

You smile. “Pegging.”

He leans back, eyes growing wide. “Really?”

“Yeah. But…only if you were actually serious about that,” you correct as you begin to sit up. “Most guys are a little hesitant about it, and I guess I get why. So…if you don’t think that’s something you’d really be—”

“I’d be honored if you’d fuck me.”

You blink. “Really?”

“Really.” His hand comes up to brush a fallen hair behind your ear, touch lingering on your cheek as he studies you. “I know you’d do it right.”

You grin. “I’m flattered you have so much confidence in me.”

“I do,” he agrees softly, thumb sweeping across your jaw. “Of course I do. You should know that.”

But you don’t know that. Not after what he said last time.

And the reminder of your previous argument makes you hesitate. “You need to really think about what you’re agreeing to, Har. Because if you don’t like it, and you want to stop…I need to know that you’ll tell me. I need to know that you trust me enough to tell me what you need.”

His brows pull together, lips quickly falling into a frown as his hand drops to his chest. “You know I trust you—”

“Do I?”

His tongue comes out to run over his bottom lip. “I promise. I trust you. I want to do this. I want to try it. With you.”

“Har—”

“If I don’t like it, I’ll say something. I promise,” he continues. “But I won’t know if I like it or not until I try. And you should always try everything at least once, right?”

You huff. “Yeah, but—”

“Come on…don’t you wanna fuck me?” he teases, gingerly nudging you with his elbow. “I’ll be such a good boy, I swear.”

And you groan at the playful way he speaks, already feeling much better about the proposition. “God. See? This is why I think you’re annoying.”

“You love me,” he declares as you stand from the bed.

And for some reason, your stomach tightens. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You gonna sit there all day or are you gonna strip?”

Instantly, he perks up, watching you closely as you rummage through your nightstand. “What, I have to take my clothes off by myself? You’re not gonna help me?”

“Nope.” You glance over and nod your chin at him. “Go on. Be a good boy.”

This time, he rolls his eyes as he laughs and begins to undo his pants.

As he begins to undress, you begin to gather what you’ll need. You locate the bottle of lube and the dildo, heart in your throat as you allow yourself to imagine what’s about to happen.

You don’t know if he’ll truly like it or not. You want him to. Want to give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. As much pleasure as he deserves. 

But…guys are weird about this. And this kind of intimacy goes far behind missionary.

You know what you’re doing. This isn’t your first time exploring the pleasures of a strap-on with a guy. You know you’ll be able to take care of him for as long as he lets you. 

You just…don’t want it to change anything else. You don’t want him to retreat into himself the way he did last time.

You don’t want to lose him.

You can’t.

Once you’re ready, you return to the bed just as he’s peeling his shirt off his chest and tossing it toward the floor.

And you let yourself admire him. Let yourself drink in each tattoo, each scar, each dip of his muscles. 

He is beautiful.

You notice the way he smiles at your admiration before looking down at the items in your lap. “Where, uh…where do you want me?”

You glance over the mattress. “Hands and knees should be good. Just…anywhere you feel comfortable.”

He nods once, swallowing thickly as he steps forward and begins to crawl back onto the bed.

The room is eerily quiet as you both move into position. You hadn’t expected things to feel so…heavy. But you suppose they are. Suppose neither one of you anticipated your adventure leading you here.

But…you don’t exactly mind.

He stills when he’s gotten into position, head dropping as he stares at your duvet and waits for your next instruction.

You clear your throat and reach out to smooth your palm down his spine. He jolts when he feels you but relaxes quickly, exhaling an anxious sigh.

“You okay?” you call softly, continuing the gentle caress to loosen him up. 

He nods again. “Yeah. Promise. Just…nervous? I guess?”

“I know,” you whisper, settling onto your knees as you dip down to press a kiss to his bare hip. “You still trust me?”

And you can feel the way his entire body goes rigid from your mouth on his skin, his chin meeting his chest. “Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Fucking promise, Bee. Just…”

“Just what?” Your fingers dance toward his ass, ghosting over the curve as you move your kisses toward the middle. “Tell me.”

You’re happy to put him under the same duress he put you earlier, and the way his fists curl around the blanket beneath him makes you smile.

“Bee,” he attempts to warn, but you aren’t having it.

You simply trail your lips down the back of his thigh, and hum, “Come on, Daddy…wanna take care of you. But I can’t until you tell me what you want.”

You can see just how badly he wants to comply, his cock swollen and red. You know that’s mostly thanks to him eating you out and you feel your cheeks warm at the knowledge that it did that to him.

That you did that to him.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” you coo, reaching around to slide your palm down the tip as he hisses and lurches forward. “Poor Daddy…bet it’d feel so good to come, wouldn’t it?”

“Bee…please,” he respires. “Please, just…god, please touch me. M’gonna lose my fucking mind.”

You smile again as you straighten back up and reach for the lube. “See? Was that so hard?”

“Yes.”

Your head shakes. “Mhm. Okay…I’m gonna start with a finger. But I need you to really be—”

“I know,” he whispers. “I know, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you repeat, equally as soft before you squeeze the liquid into your hand. “Take a deep breath for me.”

He does, the muscles in his arms tensing as the tip of the bottle meets his ass. And when he feels the gel begin to drip down, he reels.

“That’s just the lube, Har,” you tell him, biting back a laugh.

“I know, but it’s cold,” he grumbles as you finish and toss the item aside. 

You give him another moment to unwind before you bring your pointer finger closer…and gingerly slide inside.

You’re more than careful, listening closely for his reaction. It sounds like…relief, but you can’t be sure.

“Har?” you call again, other hand smoothing along his hip to give it a squeeze. 

“M’fine,” he mumbles, once again fisting your duvet. “Promise. Go.”

“Are you—”

“Go,” he stresses before sucking in a quiet breath. “Please, baby. Go. Keep going.”

So, you do. You ease in a bit further until you’re about halfway in, pausing to let him adjust.

He seems to be doing pretty well, despite the way his stomach quivers and his cock twitches. 

And after pumping him once or twice with great care, you push in to the knuckle.

He likes this, a particular groan emitting from his throat as he subtly shifts back into your hand. “Shit, Bee.”

“How’s it feel?”

He takes a moment to think. To find the right words. “Good. Full…I guess.”

“Yeah, and that’s only my finger.”

You hear him make a noise that resembles a laugh before he groans again. “God…please don’t stop. Please…I promise, I’m fine. I just…I…”

“Need more, don’t you?” you answer for him, working the lube in and out as he nods quickly. 

“Yes. Yes…more.”

And who are you to say no?

You pump him a few more times before bringing a second finger into play. Again, you go slow. Making sure to gauge each sound and movement he makes so as to not hurt him. Or catch him off guard. 

But he’s growing desperate. Mindlessly following your thrusts as he grows accustomed to the feeling. As he becomes familiar with the pleasure it brings him.

His jaw drops, hand coming up to his cock to stroke it lazily, needing some sort of friction.

But you reach around and slap it away, tsking as you warn, “Not yet. Not until I’m ready—”

“Bee,” he whines, and the desperate waver in his voice almost guts you.

“Shh. Just one more minute, okay?”

“Please…"

“I know. M’almost ready. Promise.”

He does his best to comply, nodding weakly as he lets his hand drop back down to the bed.

And you feel bad for him, you do. But seeing him so unhinged just about ruins you, and you can feel the way your cunt aches. The way it practically yearns for him, dripping all down your thighs as you continue to work your fingers into him.

And once you’re sure he’s ready…you reach for the dildo.

You’re more than generous with the lube, making sure to keep the experience pleasurable and easy.

And the dildo itself isn’t all that intimidating. Not nearly as big as he is. Average, at best. Perfect for a beginner.

The lack of stimulation makes him restless, and your heart clenches for him as you secure the strap-on around your hips and finally bring the tip back to his glistening hole.

The faint brush of it makes him whimper, and the sound of this confident man coming undone by your hand is what changes everything.

Everything.

It’s music. A goddamn symphony, and you chase the sound by slowly easing the dildo in.

An easy enough task, exactly like you’d hoped.

But he loses it.

The moan is deep and vulgar, echoing off the walls of your bedroom as you squeeze your legs together and press your fingers further into his hip.

“Good,” you hum, dipping down to kiss the base of his spine. “So good, Har. Promise. You okay?”

“Fucking shit,” is his reply. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You smile. “Give me your hand.”

He sluggishly reaches back for you, fingers intertwining with yours when you find him. And it makes your stomach flip but it’s not what you had in mind.

You bring your hands over to his cock, guiding him along the swollen shaft as he instantly ruts into your palm.

“Bee,” he gasps, squeezing both your knuckles and his tip. “Please—”

“I know,” you say again, continuing to work the dildo into him. Slowly at first before you find a steadier rhythm. “I know, doing so good—”

“Shit—”

“That’s it. Just like that. Like when I play with you, don’t you?”

He nods as you both begin to pump him, now matching the pace you've set with your thrusts and the dildo. "Yes...yes. Please don't stop—"

"Won't. Promise," you whisper, kissing down his hip. 

His squirming increases, the one arm holding him up now shaking as he does his best to remain upright. 

But it feels too good. You can see the pleasure written all over the side of his face, and it does fucking wonders for you.

You've never felt more proud to be responsible for his pleasure. To be responsible for making him fall apart the way he is. For showing him exactly what he deserves.

And he takes it. Takes it so fucking well, clutching onto you as you continue to work him closer. 

And he feels so good. So good in your hand. So heavy, and needy, and ready for the release you've promised him.

You want to give him that release more than anything. Want to show him how good it can be. Want to show him the fucking stars.

He yells when he finds it. Your name and about a string of curses, all falling from his tongue one after the other.

He covers your hand, and your bed, and his stomach. And when he collapses, he takes you with him, pulling you down until your chest meets his back.

You imagine this can't be all that comfortable for him, especially with the dildo now halfway out, but he doesn't complain.

He continues to hold onto your wrist as he works to catch his breath.

And you don't fight it.

A minute or two passes before you gently ease the object out, unclip it from your body, and toss it aside.

He hisses at the loss of contact before settling once more, fingers still cemented to your hand.

You know you’ll need to clean up, but he doesn’t seem to have any future plans to do so.

It makes you smile, your cheek pressing into the space between his shoulder blades. His skin hot and slightly sweaty. 

For some reason…it feels good.

“Bee?” he calls quietly, as if not to disrupt the tender moment.

You hum.

“Thank you.”

You let your eyes flutter shut. “Hey, what are friends for?”

A beat.

He tenses. “Yeah…”

Then, the silence returns.

But this time, it’s different.

This time…it’s heavy.

And when he lets go of your hand, you realize it’s not just in your head. 

Things happen quickly. You barely get the chance to roll off of him before he’s sitting up and climbing off the bed. You don’t even have time to ask what changed as he begins reaching for his clothes to re-dress, your heart instantly dropping to your stomach.

“Har…?” you stammer as you awkwardly reach for your underwear. And this rush of deja vu is much more unpleasant than the last. “What…what’s—”

“I gotta go,” he mumbles under his breath, his back to you as he slips his hoodie on. “I forgot. I’ve got…something I’ve gotta do.”

“Oh…” Your chest deflates as you watch him step into his shoes. “What…um, what do you have to do?”

Once he straightens back up, he stills, and you wish you could see his face. “S’not important.”

With that, he heads for your living room, leaving you behind.

And you watch him go, a dumb founded look on your face as he makes his way for the front door.

A hundred and one things instantly run through your mind, from explanations to unpleasant realizations.

But the moment you watch him disappear into the hallway without so much as a glance back, you realize none of it fucking matters.

Just him.

You chase after him, scrambling toward the lobby in hot pursuit as he pushes through the double doors and disappears into the parking lot.

And you’re right behind, slipping out as well as he strides away from you, when you’re suddenly forced to a screeching halt the moment you’re met with a downpour of rain.

The sky is dark, the only smattering of light coming from the few street lamps placed along the sidewalk.

You hadn’t realized it was so late, or so rainy, but you don’t let it stop you.

Instead, you plant your feet onto the steps of the building, and shout, “Watermelon!”

It echoes across the parking lot until you see him freeze, his drenched back still to you.

Then…he turns.

Only about halfway, the hood on his head allowing just enough light to catch the side of his face.

But it’s enough.

“Watermelon,” you repeat as you take a step closer, water trickling down your hair, your body, your clothes. But you don’t care. “I call watermelon.”

He frowns. “The hell are you doing? Go back inside—”

“No.” Your teeth grit, fingers squeezing into fists by your side as a rumble of thunder rolls across the sky. “No. I want you to talk to me.”

His hands disappear into his pockets as he tosses a glare your way. “I told you, I don’t wanna talk—”

“Tough shit.” You take another step. “’Cause I do. And you owe me that.”

The frown deepens. “Bee…don’t.”

 “No, you don’t.” Another step. “After everything we’ve been through…you really think you can’t talk to me? You really think I’m not trustworthy enough to hear what’s going on?”

He scoffs and glances away. “God, you never fucking listen. I told you, it’s not—”

“No, you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me anything,” you remind him, volume raising ever-so-slightly as you continue closer. “Something is wrong, Harry. I know you. And I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me—”

“I don’t want you to fix it,” he seethes. “I want you to drop it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t do that. We work it out.”

“We can’t work this out.”

You hesitate as the first clue slips free. “So there is something to work out?”

He sighs, eyes falling shut. “Bee…please go back inside—”

“No.” Yet another step. “No. What is it? What happened? What did I do—”

“Nothing,” he nearly growls, whirling around to face you as if to really nail in his point. “I fucking told you. Nothing—”

“Then what?”

“Bee—”

“What? Is this about Tina—"

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Seriously, did she say something—"

“Bee—”

“Is she mad about this—”

“Can you just—”

“What? Do you feel guilty—”

“No, I just—”

“If you wanted to stop, all you had to do was say something—”

“I didn’t—that’s not—”

“Then what, Har? What happened? Why won’t you fucking—”

“I can’t do this.”

You stop.

He stops.

But nothing else stops. Not the rain. Not the lightning. Not the thunder. Not the racing in your chest as your heart beats against your ribcage like a goddamn drum.

I can’t do this.

You don’t think you heard him right. “…what?”

He scrapes his teeth together. “I can’t…I don’t wanna be friends with you. I don’t wanna be just friends with you, I don’t…fuck.”

He looks down at the wet cement as your lashes flutter and you work overtime to figure out what he’s saying.

“I—for fuck’s sake,” he hisses, almost more to himself before his eyes snap back to yours. “Look, I know that all of this was just…you helping me out. Okay? I know that. I know it meant nothing.”

A crack of lightning strikes the sky and somehow, it’s still not as intimidating as what he’s about to stay.

“But then…it did mean something,” he continues, a bit softer. “It meant everything.”

You don’t know what to say. Don’t know what he wants you to say.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” he grumbles, frowning once more. “I know, okay? I know. And that’s not…we agreed that it would just be…this. Just this. Nothing else. ’Cause we don’t do anything else. We don’t do…whatever, okay? I know.”

He looks back out into the dark city, leaving you to stare blankly at the side of his face. 

“But it’s you,” he says, hands nestling further into the hoodie. “It’s you, and it’s always been you. Fucking always, Bee. Ever since we were kids. And I didn’t…I didn’t know why. Didn’t even know what it was, but it’s never felt like this with anyone else. Only you.”

Only you.

“And I don’t wanna…fuck, I don’t wanna lose you,” he just about sighs. “I can’t fucking lose you, Bee. But it just…I don’t think I can do this and not fall in love with you.”

You suck in sharp breath, and he looks back.

“Because I will,” he whispers, despite the rain. But you hear it, clear as day. “I will fall in love with you, and I don’t know what I’ll do if you won’t have me.”

He stops now. Allowing the words to sink in. Allowing the truth to make a home in your mind.

And you work to understand. Work to find a response…but the only thing you manage is:

“What about Tina?”

After all, this started with her. It’s only fair that she play her part now.

His expression twists. You don’t know which way. “I like Tina. She’s nice. And she’d probably be really good for me.”

A pause.

“But she’s not you,” he finishes, and for some reason…you’re filled with relief. “It doesn’t feel like this with her. I don’t think it ever will.”

“You don’t mean that,” you blurt out, head shaking quickly. “No, it was just the sex. It’s throwing you off, it...it screws everything up and makes people think they feel one way…when they don’t.”

“Bee…” he begins, almost as if tired, but you barrel on.

“No, you said it yourself. Remember? Endorphins and shit?” You brush some wet hair from your face. “You just…it’s not me. It’s just the sex.”

“No.” He sounds so sure. So confident in his decision. “No, it’s not. It’s you. Always you, Bee—”

“Har—”

“You don’t have to like it. But that’s how it is—”

“Harry…you just…you don’t—”

“But I do.”

“Harry.” You want to stomp your foot. “You can’t…you don’t mean it. You’re confused.”

His eyes soften. “I’m not. I mean…I am, but not about why. Not about this—not about you.”

A pause settles between you as more thunder echoes across the dark sky.

And you look at him. Really look at him. Look for the truth, or the deception, or for anything that will help you make sense of all this.

“You said watermelon,” you remind him, blinking the droplets of rain from your eyes. “Why did you say watermelon?”

Another sigh as he glances back down at his sneakers. “’Cause…I knew. I knew I was starting to…need you. More than I should. And it fucking…it fucking scared me. It scared me how fucking…real it felt.”

Truthfully, you’re a little surprised that the man who has never once before admitted defeat would now confess his fear to you.

 But it makes your head spin.

“And I just…it was a lot,” he continues. “Seeing you. Seeing what I’d done. I mean…the marks. On your neck. I did that. I’ve never done that to someone before. But then I did. And I liked it. I liked getting to be that way with you, and it fucking terrified me. Because what if I hurt you? Actually hurt you somewhere down the line? I’d never fucking forgive myself.”

Your lips press into a quivering line. “…why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter,” he huffs, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters because you don’t feel that way, and we’re finished with the list anyhow.”

You instantly follow after him, bridging the gap he made. “Don’t. It always matters with us, Har. Always. I mean…do you really think I haven’t wondered the same thing? Do you think it’s been fucking easy to do this with you and then just go back to watching Schitt’s Creek? It’s killed me. Fucking ruined me from the inside out to watch you walk away from me.”

His teeth grit once again, as if steeling himself from the truth.

“You mean everything to me, you goddamn twat,” you just about shout. “Sex or no sex, it doesn’t change that. I agreed to do this with you because I knew it was us. I knew we would be okay. Because we had to be okay. I can’t lose you either, Har. So stop trying to make me—”

“Then, what do you want me to do, huh?” he bellows. “Just wait around for you to believe me?”

“I…I do believe you, I just…I—”

“You just don’t feel the same way—”

“No, I didn’t say that—”

“Then what—”

“I…I—”

“What? I have to tell you, but you don’t have to tell me—”

“That’s not…that’s—”

“What do you want, Bee? What do you want me to do, what do you expect me to—”

“I love you.”

He stops.

Suddenly, and all at once, his eyes going wide.

But you don’t stop. “I love you,” you repeat loudly. “And I’m fucking terrified, too. Because I don’t want it to be just about sex. I don’t want it to be just the endorphins and shit. I want it to be real. I want us to be real.”

The silence seems to span an eternity as the rain continues to beat down around you.

Then…he surges forward.

He grabs hold of your wet cheeks with his drenched hands and yanks you closer.

And he kisses you.

He kisses you until you’re more him than you. He kisses you until you no longer have the strength to stand or the power to fight him.

He kisses you until it makes sense.

After a moment, he pauses to allow you a minute to breathe. But he doesn’t go very far. He presses his forehead to yours and he keeps you.

And it’s fucking…everything.

“What if we’re not?” he whispers. “What if we’re not real? What if we aren’t…us?”

You shake your head. "We'll always be us."

He exhales a gentle laugh before brushing his thumbs across your skin. "What if it changes everything?"

You wish you could assure him that it won't. Or even that it will, but in the best way.

But you can’t.

So, instead, you squeeze your fingers around his wrists and smile. 

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Thank you so much to everyone for reading, following along, and offering me so much support on this series 😭 I will never be able to thank you enough for all the kind comments and wonderful feedback, but please know I appreciate you all endlessly ��💞💞💞💞

Also, I suppose I did kind of lie. This will probably be the last part of the “main” series but I’ve actually got a few more ideas for extra blurbs and parts about other kinks and situations they might get into. So, if you’d like to follow along, I would be so honored to have you back!

And if you’d rather leave their story here, that is absolutely okay, too! Thank you so much for being here!

Now…I’m gonna go cry HAHAHA ♥️

Next Part:

~ Find Me* (A Teach Me Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Feel Me* (Pt. 4)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tags: (I have no idea if you all wanted to be tagged in each additional part, and if not, please let me know and I am so sorry for dragging you here! And if you did...then welcome back!!)

@onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @indierockgirrl @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @harrysxcarolina @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @straightontilmornin @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @tiaamberxx @chubby-cheek-calum

[wisteria-lodge]

Re Snape and being a spy, I was always so so baffled that after Dumbledore exposed Snape as his spy, Voldemort was arrogant enough to take Snape back.

Because of course he would never. After Voldemort killed Lily, too? Lol. Lmao, even. Snape would have become the first name in the burn book. Undesirable №0.

And if it meant that Voldemort would never ask Snape to come back, that would mean that Dumbledore IS actually merciful, that he does actually understand how grooming works and for real saved Snape, and gave him his second chance. Which of course would make Dumbledore a fundamentally good person, and not like, whatever JKR writes.

I was always very... unsure on what JKR actually thinks good is. Because, well. Sometimes she writes someone being righteous, and doing very, very dubious shit. No one ever said "Hermione, kidnapping is bad" or "Hermione, erasing the memories of your parents is bad", or even "However bad Umbridge was, that scene is written as angry men kidnapping a woman and then her being returned traumatized from,,,,, SOMETHING".

It's fine when Hagrid makes fun of Dudley for being fat, but it's not fine when Draco makes fun of Mrs. Weasley for being fat. It's fine for Arthur to "get off" Ludo Bagman's brother after he gets in trouble, and get 10 expensive top-box tickets out of it. But Fudge doing "favors" for Lucius after he... donates money to St. Mungos... now that's unacceptable.

JKR's view of morality is that there are good people and bad people, and that if you're a good person your actions are by definition good. It's why she's so interested in mechanisms to sort out the good people - the Sorting Hat putting people into Gryffindor, and now the Qilin picking out the most worthy King Wizard. Occasionally a Good person will be tempted off the Good Path because of a Bad influence (ie - Snape falling under the thrall of his pureblood buddies and then snapping back to center, Dumbledore falling in with of Grindelwald and then repenting, Percy becoming enamored with the Ministry... etc.)

JKR also seems to really, really dislike arrogance. Lockhart, Lucius, Draco, Percy... and Voldemort is the most arrogant of them all. Him trusting Snape is definitely an example of him being extremely stupid... but his inflated sense of his own grandeur, his own importance, that's totally been set up. Also, clearly the guy does not have a great understanding of the intricacies of romantic relationships.

“He desired her, that was all,” sneered Voldemort, “but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him —”

If I wanted to get psychological about this, I'd say that Voldemort doesn't think about his relationships in terms of love (i mean, dumbledore thinks he loves the snake but that's neither here nor there) but in terms of whether people are WORTHY of him or not. Wormtail is objectively extremely effective... but he's not worthy, based on whatever set of criteria Voldemort has in his head. Voldemort/Bellatrix and Voldemort/Barty jr. (I see it) absolutely feature Bellatrix and Barty doing some very extreme things to prove themselves worthy of him. So it's not surprising that Voldemort lands on that word when talking about Snape's potential rebound.

Especially because Voldemort absolutely has experience with people desiring him, physically. (DEFINITELY Hepzibah Smith, and there's no way she was the first. Tom is playing the part of the Charmer on purpose.) So on some level, I'll buy that he just thinks that's what love is.

Where we get into potential plotholes is with legilimency. Dumbledore and Voldemort can still read minds, and still they both think Snape is working for them. Either Snape is able to construct false memories for them to look at... or maybe if a occulumens is good enough you just can't read their mind, even if they want you too. Except *Harry* can read Snape's mind? Is he just Anakin Skywalker levels of powerful? (I mean, maybe.) But then does that also means that DRACO'S occlumency is good enough to fool Voldemort?

(the biggest sign that JKR just did not really think the whole legilimency/occlumency thing through... is the detail that Bellatrix taught Draco occlumency. Why would she do that? (especially because at that point she's starting not to trust him.) Even if she did want to, why would Bellatrix - who is an enforcer/berserker type, not stealth, not a spy, not good at/inclined to conceal her emotions... why would she be able to conceal her thoughts? Why would she even WANT to, when her main thing is desperately seeking connection with Voldemort?

[narrycherries]

ivy: for moments that we stole

She was trying to figure out how to understand her own body, and he was attempting to help as much as he could..

(part 9)

masterlist // ivy series

word count: 29.7k

warnings/tags: harry x oc, fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, alcohol use, jealousy, (slight hints at smut but no smut yet)

[a/n:: hi sorry it took so, so long for this to come out, hope it’s worth the wait <3!! I’m never writing a part that’s this long ever again lol!]

It hadn’t been quite a week since Harry came over in the middle of the night. Ivy was walking through the door of Niall’s store Thursday afternoon solely to see Harry. Due to her work schedule and him picking up shifts at the store after his regular job, they haven’t been able to physically see each other. Harry was devastated that he couldn’t see her, but he understood that she was tired after work. Every night, though, they talk on the phone and catch each other up on their days. 

Niall gave her a wave as she walked past the register. She quickly returned the gesture but didn’t waste time stopping to talk to him. Her destination was the back room where Harry told her he’d be at. He didn’t have a shift today, but he had a few lessons scheduled. Niall conducted the sessions at the store. Ivy strolled to the back, excitement firing up her body. She was ready to see him. Looking at his face on a screen during a video call or hearing his voice over the phone wasn’t enough to hold her over anymore. When she reached the back, she slowed down in the doorway and peaked into the room. Harry was sitting with his back to her on a stool, his hands holding a guitar. There was a young boy, most likely in his early teen years, sitting on the small couch across from him. Harry was talking to him about their progress, saying how he was doing a good job. 

“I think in a few more sessions you’ll be playing confidently.” Harry said, resting the guitar he was using on a stand before standing up. 

The boy smiled and jumped up, grabbing the soft case he carried his instrument in with. 

“I hope so. See you next week.” 

Harry chuckled. “You will. Remember, practice those sheets.”

Once the boy zipped his case up and walked towards the door, Ivy stepped out of the way and waited for them to be alone. 

Harry told her he had about fifteen minutes in between his lessons today, so she was eager to get to him as quickly as possible. When she walked into the room, he turned around and met her with a bright smile. He didn’t expect to see her so soon. 

“Hi.” She said happily while practically running over to him. 

Harry grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her into a tight hug. “Hey, sweet girl.”

“I’ve missed you.” She grinned against his chest, her arms snaked around him. 

“I missed you more, love.”

Ivy grunted as he squeezed her extra tight. “You smell good.”

Harry let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to her temple. She pulled back, reaching up to grab his face with both hands. He gave her control, allowing her to pull him down for a kiss. They were both mindful of the fact they were in public, so their tongues stayed behind their lips. Harry hummed against her mouth, savoring the feeling of her thick lips mushed into his. When she pulled away, he furrowed his brows and let out a disapproving sigh. Ivy pinched his dimple and dropped her hands to his chest. 

“I don’t like being away from you for this long.” 

Harry smirked, licking his lips to soak up the flavor of her lip gloss that’s now mostly on his mouth and not hers. “It’s definitely not fun.”

“We can spend the weekend together.. if you want.” She offered, batting her long eyelashes at him.

He was easily enticed by the idea. “We can do that.”

Ivy was about to reach up for another kiss when Harry’s hands both moved to her waist, squeezing her on either side. He was staring deep into her eyes, a longing silence growing between them. She could tell he was thinking about something. 

Harry cleared his throat and dipped his head down, pressing a kiss to her ear. “Can I take you out on a date tomorrow?”

She let out a soft giggle, blush coating her face. “A date? Yeah, I guess so.”

“If you want to.”

“Of course, yeah.” Ivy turned her head so she could meet his lips. 

Harry laid a few kisses on her mouth before leaning back up. “We can get ice cream or something after, whatever you want. Maybe go back to my place for a movie.” 

She lifted an eyebrow. “Back to your place, hm?” 

“Yeah, take a turn in my bed.” He smirked back.

Her eyes rolled as her arms snaked around his torso. “Maybe.” 

“You can stay the night.. if you want to.” Harry kept his eyes on her despite her hiding her face. “My bed isn’t as comfortable as yours.. but m’sure you being in it would make it better.” 

Ivy shook her head, burying her face into his chest again. He didn’t have to look to know she was flushed and uncontrollably smiling. Even before they started doing all of this, Harry was well aware of the effect he had on her. His words, his glances, his touches - every little thing he did drove her mad. 

“I’d like to have a sleepover.” She finally mumbled back, a smile weaved into her words. 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

Harry could see through the doorway that there were a few customers walking around. As much as he wanted to hold on to her forever, until they morphed into one being and the world stopped spinning, he knew he couldn’t do that here. With a huff, he withdrew his arms and inched backwards, while keeping his hands on her waist. She frowned, trying to step closer, but Harry shook his head to stop her. 

“I have to get ready for my next lesson, love.” 

Ivy groaned, throwing her head back. “No, not yet.” 

“I don’t want to, believe me. I’d much rather be with you.” 

She understood that he had priorities and commitments that he couldn’t just abandon because she wanted to spend time with him. It was a struggle, especially with it being the first week they’ve been together, but she had to deal with it. Harry gave her waist a squeeze, trying his best to give her affection that was more appropriate for their setting. 

“Do you have any preferences for where you want to eat tomorrow?” 

She shook her head. “Whatever you want to do.” 

“I’ll text you later and let you know what time I’ll pick you up.” 

Ivy gave him a cute smile. “Call me.” 

“Alright, I’ll call you.” 

“I’m glad I got to see you for a little bit.” Her lips rolled to a pout, making his heart sink. 

“M’gonna spend every waking moment with you this weekend.” Harry wanted to wrap her in his arms and squeeze her tight, but he opted not to. 

“Guess I have to go now, hm?” She frowned, wishing he’d say no but aware that he wouldn’t. 

“Not before I kiss you goodbye.” His wink made her laugh, which eased his worry. 

It took so long for him to admit his feelings to her, and he hated having to be away from her now. But he had a job to do and she needed to get home and handle some chores. They couldn’t spend every day together.. Since he knew it would be an entire day until he saw her again, he wanted his goodbye hug to leave a good impression. Ivy laughed as he pulled her back into his body, squeezing her tight and placing several kisses on her temple. Her arms were squished between them, her hands pressed on his body as she giggled and squirmed, trying to get free. Ivy snuck her hand up to his face and grabbed his chin, angling his head down so she could kiss him. This time, she let her tongue slip out and he gladly lapped it up with his own. It was a long thirty seconds, a magical moment frozen in time. 

“Lovebirds, break it up.” Niall’s voice broke the trance and forced them apart. 

Harry groaned, his hands falling from her body, “What do you want?”

“I just got off the phone. They want us to do a show Saturday night. Their other booking fell through.” He explained, looking at his phone as he typed a message to send to the band’s group chat. 

“We just did a show.” Harry huffed out, not excited about the idea. 

“I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to do another.” Niall was obviously fine with the idea, and he thought the money would be worth it. Usually they did shows once a month, so extra income would be nice for everyone. 

“I just made plans for the weekend.” Harry glanced at Ivy, feeling her stare on him. 

“You can do the show. I can come watch.” She clasped her hands around his right hand, squeezing tight and pulled herself against him. 

“Ivy, I.. I wanted to be with you.” 

“You will be, technically. I love watching you sing.” The way she smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling as she gazed up at him, made him melt. He couldn’t tell her no. He couldn’t deny her of this, or anything if she used that adorable expression. 

Harry sighed and licked his lips. “Are you sure it’s not a big deal? 

“No, it’s fine. I promise.” She grinned back, visibly excited about the idea. 

He looked back to Niall, who was waiting for an answer. “I guess we can.”

“Good. Everyone else is on board.” Niall smirked, knowing that Harry would be the only difficult one to convince, especially now that he has someone else to occupy his time. 

“Have you told everyone about us?” Ivy asked curiously, her fingers crawling up his forearm.

Niall chuckled. “He hasn’t.”

“Niall.” Harry wasn’t pleased by that. “Can you go away?”

“Are you embarrassed of me?” Ivy had the biggest smile on her face. 

Harry shook his head, turning to face her. “M’not embarrassed. I haven’t seen any of them.”

“I know, I’m just picking.” Her smile dropped slightly. It was easy to notice the difference in his tone. 

Niall already walked off, leaving them alone. Harry avoided her gaze, choosing to stare off behind her. Ivy felt a familiar feeling creeping in. Whenever she used to talk to Harry, she would be afraid that something would happen and he’d get angry. Right now, that thought was threatening to take over. 

Harry didn’t say anything. He brought her into another hug, silence growing between them. She wasn’t sure if he was irritated or if he was just being quiet. She made sure to squeeze him tight. A minute passed before he finally let her go. He kissed her for just a moment, mumbling how he’d miss her. She returned the sweet words, trying to push away the worrying thought. Harry had a lesson and Ivy had to leave.. 

That night, just as she was getting under the covers to get comfortable, Harry called her. They talked for a while about random things, he told her about the lessons and she rambled about the grocery shopping she did after she left the music store. Harry listened to every word, enjoying the sound of her voice. He apologized for how he acted earlier in the day, but she assured him it was fine and she wasn’t upset in any way. 

After that, before they said their goodbyes, he told her he’d be there to get her at seven o’clock for their dinner date. He wouldn’t share the details of where they were going, just told her to trust him. Ivy was nervous about the date but she was excited, too. Harry could tell she was tired, so he eventually let her go with the promise to see her soon. 

—•—

Ivy had never breathed so hard before. Her eyes burned holes through the mirror as she looked her body up and down. She could feel her heart fluttering from anxiety as she contemplated how she felt about her appearance. Did she like this dress? Was it too much for a first date? If Harry was taking her somewhere that was casual, this would be considered over-dressed. Just as she was about to rip it off to try another one on, Emma walked into her bedroom. 

“Hi, getting ready for your date?” She grinned as she walked up behind Ivy in the mirror. 

She huffed back. “Yeah.”

“What’s wrong?”

Ivy shrugged, rotating to see how she looked from the side. “Can’t decide what I wanna wear.”

“This dress is gorgeous. Dark blue always looks good on you.” Emma adjusted a piece of her curled hair, putting it in place. “And your hair is gorgeous.”

Ivy chewed on her cheek for a few seconds as she stared at herself. She was confident with her emotions and feelings, yet she was confused about her outer appearance. Did she like this dress? Was it too nice? Was the color decent? Would Harry like this color? She shook her head. 

“What if Harry doesn’t like it?”

Emma met her eyes in the mirror. “If you wore a potato sack Harry would love it.”

“But.. what if he doesn’t?” Ivy’s lips fell to a frown. 

“He will, Ivy. He’s obsessed with you. He’ll love it.” Emma playfully grabbed her waist, keeping a smile on so Ivy would feel better. 

She shrugged, looking down at her heels. Maybe they were too tall for this kind of thing? They were very comfortable, the thick heel made them easy to balance in. Would Harry think it’s too much? 

“You look perfect, I promise.” Emma whispered out, trying her best to pump some positivity into Ivy. 

Although she didn’t believe it, she thanked Emma and said a quick goodbye. Niall was there to pick her up. They were going on a date themselves and planned to spend the night together here since Ivy will be going with Harry if all things go well. 

Ivy sprayed on her favorite perfume and adjusted the necklace around her neck, setting the pendant flush to her skin. She applied her favorite lipgloss, opting for a shade a bit of a deeper pink than her usual. The curls in her hair weren’t tight. They flowed down her back and over her shoulders, perfectly spiraled. Maybe he would like the dress and the shoes and the perfume and her hair and her.. Maybe he would really, really like her tonight. 

“Hello?” She answered as she put the phone to her ear. 

“Hey, sweet girl. I’ll be there in two minutes.” Harry’s deep voice made her stomach turn cartwheels. 

“Okay. Should I wait outside?”

“I’ll come to the door and get you.” His smile was laced perfectly through his words. “Have to be traditional.”

She laughed softly. “Okay, I’m excited to see you, but don’t call why you’re driving. Be safe.”

“Alright, I’ll see you soon. Bye, Ivy.”

“Bye, Harry.” 

Speaking to him didn’t ease her worry at all. The thoughts of not looking pretty enough and not dressing appropriately and not being what he wanted - everything was spiraling in her mind. Ivy sat down on the couch and glued her eyes to the door, waiting to hear a knock or two hit against the wood. She nearly held her breath the entire time. It was supposed to be easier now that they got along, that they admitted to caring about one another. It was supposed to be easy..

It had been a long time since she went out on any official dates with anyone. All those had failed her in the past, she was hopeful that this one would be different. There was that lingering fear that Harry would suddenly not want to be with her and that he’d disappear, but she was fighting hard to keep that out of her mind. Worrying about her appearance was enough to keep her mind occupied, unfortunately. Everything vanished and her heart froze as a sudden knock on the door echoed through the room. There was no turning back. She gulped down her fears and walked to the door. It was comforting to know that Harry was on the other side and soon they’d be reunited. 

Ivy opened the door and smiled brightly as she finally saw him. He looked incredibly handsome tonight. He was wearing a nice shirt, all but the top button were fastened, and a pair of trousers. It was unusual seeing him in something other than jeans, but she thought he looked wonderful. He smiled back, nervousness already seeping through his veins. In his hand was a bouquet of pretty pink tulips. 

“Hi.” 

Ivy’s cheeks flushed as he extended the flowers out to her. “Hi.” 

“I got you these.” He said, referring to the tulips. “I hope you like them.” 

She took the flowers from him and lifted the bouquet to her nose. The smell was beautiful and fresh, something she was relieved to experience. Ivy held the flowers in one hand as her other arm went around him, grunting as he embraced her tighter. 

“Thank you, I love them.” She grinned as her head fell back, her pretty eyes met his instantly. 

“You’re welcome. A little bird might’ve told me these are your favorite.” He winked, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He hoped he didn’t disturb her hair or makeup. 

“A little bird who splits the rent with me, I assume.” 

He shrugged. “That’s a secret.” 

Ivy teasingly rolled her eyes and looked down at the flowers. “Is it okay if I put them in a vase real quick? I don’t want them to die.” 

“Yeah, go ahead.” Harry nodded, following her inside as she turned on her heel and headed to the kitchen. 

He chose to stay by the door as he waited for her. All he could think about was how perfect she looked tonight. He thought the shade of blue was stunning on her and the dress was fitted perfectly. Her hair looked so soft and pretty, and the whiff he got when he hugged her was wondrous. She smelled, looked, sounded, and felt like heaven. He watched with an amused smile as she scrambled to find a vase in the lower cabinet and fill it with water. She was rushing so he wouldn’t have to wait too long, but little did she know he’d wait forever if she needed him to. Once she got the tulips in a vase and placed on the counter near the window, she rejoined him and took hold of both of his hands. 

“Thank you for being sweet.” She said in a soft voice, puckering her lips for him. 

He chuckled, placing a few soft pecks on her mouth. “Have to treat you like a princess.” 

“Well, this princess is hungry.” 

“C’mon, let’s get going.” He kept hold of one of her hands and walked her out to the car. 

“Oh, my bag.” She quickly walked to the couch to grab the small duffle bag she packed for the night. 

Ivy was surprised when Harry opened the car door for her, gesturing for her to get in. He waited until she was situated and her seatbelt was on before he shut the door. She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as she watched him walk around the front of the car. He looked so good, so put together and happy. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Harry smiled at her as he backed onto the street. 

“Thanks.” She rested her hands on top of each other on her lap, looking down at the fabric of her dress. “Not too dressed up, am I?”

“No, love. You’re perfectly dressed.” 

Ivy let her eyes trail over to his side of the car. She looked over his thigh and up his side, still surprised to see he had a long sleeve shirt on without pushing the sleeves up. He looked so nice. 

“So, are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll see when we get there.” 

“What about after?”

“Ivy, you have to be patient, sweetheart.” Harry glanced at her, already aware she was staring at him. “Trust me.”

“I do trust you.” 

Harry gripped the steering wheel with one hand and reached over with his other one. She didn’t hesitate to rest her palm on his, sliding their fingers together. She stayed quiet for the rest of the drive. Although he was worried that something was bothering her, he didn’t want to pry. If she wanted to tell him anything then she would. 

Ivy spaced out quickly, her eyes were fixed on their joined hands but her mind was lost. All she could think about was if Harry liked her dress or not. Did he like her hair like this, was her makeup too light, were her shoes ugly? She swallowed harshly, forcing down all the worry. She didn’t want the night to be ruined by her spiraling thoughts. 

She squeezed Harry’s hand as they pulled into a familiar place. When she looked at him, he chuckled and gave her a quick glance. 

“The first time we ate here together I was an asshole. I figured the second time should be better.” 

Ivy let out a shy laugh. “I.. I didn’t expect this.” 

“Good.” Harry grinned back. “That means I’m good at surprising you.” 

There was a rush of excitement flooding through her. For weeks on end, she replayed that night with him in her mind wondering what went wrong, what she could’ve done differently. It was one of those memories that haunted her. But now he’s giving her brain the chance to replace it with a much better experience, if all goes well. Once he parked and turned off the car, Ivy grabbed the door handle, but he stopped her. 

“Wait, stay there.” 

She hesitated at first, but lowered her hand to her lap. He practically flew out of the car, racing to her side. She giggled to herself as she watched him adjust his collar before opening the door for her. 

“Harry, you didn’t have to do that.” She sighed out as he offered his hand to her, she gladly took it. 

“But I should do it, and I’m going to.” Harry squeezed her hand as he waited for her to stand up. 

He looked down at her shoes, just now getting a good view of them. They reminded him of the other heels he’s seen her wear. He really liked the way she looked in them. He shut the door as she fixed her dress and swept her hair over her shoulders. He wanted to give her a kiss, but he was trying to wait until after dinner. 

They walked hand in hand to the door, Ivy was telling him about the muffin she ate for breakfast. He was amused by her excitement, finding it rather precious that she enjoyed such trivial things. It was good to know small things made her happy. She savored the details of life, and he admired that so much. 

They were guided to a table quickly, Harry had worried that they would have to wait. Blush coated her face as Harry pulled out the chair for her. She felt like she was being treated like a queen, like someone important. She was important to him.. 

“You’re being rather sweet tonight.” Ivy smiled when he sat down across from her. 

“Trying to make up for all the times I was a dick to you.” Harry only half smiled back. 

She licked her lips and looked down at the menu, scanning her eyes over the words. “You’re doing good, I promise. I’d tell you if you weren’t.” 

“I hope you’d give me absolute hell if I did that to you again.” 

Ivy glanced up at him. “Oh, I definitely would.”

For some reason, she felt like she didn’t want to bore him with random, meaningless conversation. She let herself get side tracked on a muffin just minutes ago. Surely that’s not something he wants to hear all the time. She absentmindedly started to pick at her nail polish. It would annoy her tomorrow when she sees the chipped paint. 

“What are you going to get?” Harry asked as he lifted the menu to read over it. 

Nervousness crept through her, threatening to ruin the entire night. “Um, I don’t know yet.” 

Harry peeked at her over the top of the menu, obviously hearing the uncertainty in her voice. He could tell something was on her mind. Maybe she was really just trying to decide what she wanted, and that worried look on her face that she wasn’t good at hiding meant nothing. Or maybe it meant something.. 

“Are you feeling okay, love?”

She lifted her head, expecting to catch his stare. “Yeah, just trying to pick something.”

“Take your time. It looks like we won’t get any service tonight.” 

Harry’s huff made her gulp. He sort of seemed irritated and she hoped he didn’t lose his control. Ivy decided to attempt to ease the tension he was clearly experiencing.

“We just got seated. I’m sure someone is coming soon.” 

He chose not to reply. Her heart began to beat faster than it had been, worry was spilling into her stomach. Keeping him calm would be the best thing, so she opted to try. 

“So, have you picked a movie for us to watch later?” 

He sighed. “No, I was going to let you pick.” 

“Oh.”

“Unless you don’t want to.. then I’ll just choose something.” His tone wasn’t what she wanted to hear. 

For a handful of minutes, they were both quiet. Ivy wasn’t quite sure how to approach him. If he was irritable, she didn’t want to set him off. It would be a dream for his mood to magically change. She worried his lack of control over his emotions would make this hard for them - and not just during dinner.. 

“Is.. is that a new ring?” Her voice broke out suddenly, grabbing his attention. 

Ivy was staring at his hand, her eyes fixated on the decorations littering his fingers. He looked down, the lion shaped ring was one he hadn’t worn in a while. He assumed that was the one she was referring to. It caught the light from above them. 

“Um, no. I just don’t wear it a lot.” Harry relaxed his brows and let his lips shape to a soft smile. “You notice my rings?”

Ivy grinned back, reaching across the table to touch him. He didn’t shy away, he let her take hold of his hand so she could examine the ring. 

“Yeah, of course. I notice everything about you. I spent a long time.. staring at you.” She said with a soft laugh, slightly embarrassed by her admission. 

“You’re so.. perfect.” He squinted his eyes as he stared at her. “Just everything about you is perfect.”

She shook her head. “To me, it sounds like I’m a creep.”

“You know I stared just as much.” He saw a waiter approaching them, his eyes shifting to stare the person down. “About fucking time.” 

Ivy sighed and quickly mumbled back to him. “Be patient, okay? Don’t.. don’t get so irritated over this.”

“Ivy.” He said through a breath. 

“Harry. Please.” 

He flicked his gaze back to her. “Alright. I’ll try.” 

“Try hard, for me, okay?” She got the words out just as the waiter got to the table. 

“Okay. For you.” 

Ivy paid close attention to Harry as he told the waiter what he wanted to drink. She watched the way his eyes held a cold glare and his lips were straight. He was annoyed and it was obvious to her, so it must be obvious to this other person, too. She squeezed his hand, glad he was still letting her hold it. He returned the squeeze, but didn’t let up on his expression. She asked for water, keeping a smile on her face to be polite. 

Once they were alone again, Ivy took a deep breath and started talking. As he heard her voice, he shifted his eyes to her and let his features soften. 

“I’m excited to stay the weekend.” 

“Yeah? I’m excited, too.” 

She felt a lump forming in her throat. He didn’t seem to be all that happy or joyful anymore. She dropped her eyes to their hands. Her skin appeared more pale than usual when compared to his sun kissed complexion. The cold metal of his rings stung her fingers, but she enjoyed the feeling. When she lifted her eyes, he gave her a slight frown. 

“M’sorry, I.. I’m acting like we’re strangers.” Harry’s voice was gentle, almost a whisper. 

Ivy licked her lips and gave him a sweet smile - maybe he deserved it, maybe he didn’t. “You’re fine. It’s our first.. date, so it's okay to be nervous.” 

He nodded slowly, but his stare fell down to the table. “I’ve never done this before.” 

“What? A date?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

She was surprised by his words, it was almost unbelievable. Harry was so attractive and confident. She’s witnessed him flirt with women and show off his charisma. From what she’s heard, he’s well versed in sexual relationships, was that the extent of it? 

“You’ve never been on a date?”

He shook his head, his stare still fixed elsewhere. She wanted him to look at her, wanted to hold eye contact as they spoke. But she knew that was probably not going to happen. 

“That’s kind of.. shocking. You seem like.. you could get a date easily.”

Harry laughed for a moment. “It’s not that I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.”

When Ivy adjusted in her chair, a piece of her hair fell forward. She sighed softly, wrapping her finger around the strand to twist it. Harry wondered if she was bothered by what he said. Was it too forward? Honesty was supposed to be the best thing. Maybe he was too rough. 

“Why not?” She slightly lifted her brows. “Never.. never found anyone worth the trouble?” 

He smirked, but it wasn’t malicious. “The whole.. being someone’s boyfriend thing never really.. intrigued me. Kinda felt stupid and pointless.” 

She moved her eyes to stare at the piece of hair she was handling. “I hope, um, your perspective has changed.”

Harry rubbed his thumb over her skin, her small hand encased by his hold. “I promise, you’re the only one who can change that for me. You’re worth everything. Every risk, every fear, everything.”

Her stare moved back to him and she let go of the curl. It fell back to the place it was before she messed with it. Harry wanted to reach over and fix it, put it with the rest of the curls and make everything perfect, but he didn’t. 

“M’trying my best to.. to do this right with you. To be a boyfriend and be.. be good to you.” He was afraid that her silence meant he was scaring her off. 

Ivy let out a soft laugh and lifted her lips to a smile. “Boyfriend, hm? You never asked me if you could be my boyfriend.” 

“Well, can I be your boyfriend?” He smiled back, lifting his brows in question. 

“I suppose so.” She lifted her shoulders nonchalantly, trying to play as a tease. 

He watched her closely, picking up on her cheeky grin and gentle giggle. “You’re so funny and.. and cute. Just makes me want to try even harder.” 

She parted her lips to speak, but they were interrupted by the same waiter that came by earlier. Ivy let go of his hand and carefully placed both of hers in her lap. She didn’t want to knock the glass over and make a mess on the table. Harry breathed out heavily, nervousness crawling into his body. Did he mess up? No, it was just going so well. Maybe she was tired of holding his hand? Maybe her arm was sore from the position? He wasn’t sure, and not knowing why was bothering him. 

“Thank you.” Ivy said with a kind tone, thanking the waiter. 

Harry bit down on his cheek as he witnessed it. It shouldn’t be such an annoying thing for him, but something about the way the man looked at her was irritating. There was a high possibility he was just being dramatic and jealous. He tried to shake the thoughts out of his mind as she gave her food order. 

Once they were alone, Ivy thought it would be a good idea to continue their conversation. She wanted to know more about him, more about his past and why he didn’t do certain things. Were relationships really such a bad idea in his mind? Or was he just being stubborn and not willing to give himself to someone in that way? She hoped he’d tell her everything without her having to ask. 

“So, I’m your first real date.” 

He let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, you are.” 

“And your first real girlfriend.” 

“My first and only, hopefully.” 

Ivy cocked a brow at him, but didn’t say anything. She hadn’t noticed he didn’t move his hand off the table until just now, when she glanced down and saw it still laying in the same spot. As much as she wanted to give him that affection, she knew she needed to focus and have a serious conversation with him. 

“I hope you.. take this really seriously with me. I.. I don’t want us to.. to be like we were before.” 

His smile dropped to a frown and his brows furrowed. “I promise, we don’t have to be that way ever again.”

“I don't want to be.” 

“Ivy, I swear.. I’ll never treat you that way again. You mean so much to me.. and I have so much to make up to you.” Harry turned his hand over, his palm to the ceiling. 

She looked at it for a long moment, considering everything in her mind before making a decision. It was obvious to her that he struggled talking about his feelings, but whenever he was with her he seemed to do it better. He liked to touch her, liked to squeeze her, liked to feel her body cruve against his hands, liked to push his lips into hers and all over her face.. he loved touching her. She would be cruel and evil to deny him of that physical touch that he craved and needed so much. 

“As long as you remember to be patient and calm and.. and nice.” 

“I’ll never treat you wrong again.” 

She smiled a little, finally moving her hand into his. This time, their fingers didn’t lock up. She rested her palm in his and let her fingers carefully drape over his wrist. When their eyes met, Harry felt his stomach churn. Was she not believing him? Was he not saying the right things? He’s trying so hard. 

“I mean.. with everyone, not just me. I want you to be nice.. and funny.. and sweet.. to everyone.” Ivy licked her lips, glancing away from him for just a split second. “Well, maybe save the sweetness for me.” 

His frown turned up. “Only for you. But, yeah, I will. I’m.. trying not to be such an.. ass.” 

“I can help you if you need me to. I want to do what I can.” 

He shook his head lightly. “You don’t have to fix me, Ivy. It’s not your job. I.. I did this on my own.” 

“But I’m not going to leave you alone. I want you to get better. If you have a better outlook on everything around you then you’ll be so much happier and positive.” She explained, hoping her words held meaning to him. 

“I know. I.. I feel better with you. You sorta.. do fix it, I guess.” 

She smiled a bit bigger. “I know, Harry. I can see how much better you are with me.” 

He swallowed gently. “You’re saving me, love.” 

Ivy smiled back, sinking her nails into her skin. “You’re letting me.” 

While waiting for their food to arrive, they kept up small talk about random little things. Ivy was the one doing most of the talking, while Harry listened and smiled at her expressive words. He thought the way she described things and told stories was incredible. Of course, he couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous she was and how her eyes sparkled when she laughed. Everything about her was captivating, he was lost in her existence. 

She spoke so much because she was nervous. This was really only the second time they were actually alone together while not being mortal enemies. She felt as though it could be messed up at any second. She feared that he would get tired of her or find her boring and he’d leave, or never come back after the date was over. Maybe she should’ve stayed away from him after he avoided her - no, that was insane. That would’ve driven her mad, made her lose her mind. 

Harry was so fixated on her details and words that he didn’t realize she was rambling because she was nervous. He just thought she wanted to tell him these things to fill their silence. He didn’t mind it, he quite enjoyed it. She was paying attention to him, making a point to conversate and interact. There had been many times when they were in the same room that she ignored him, that she hated him. It was because of his own behavior, of course. He cherished every second with her now, appreciated every ounce of attention she gave. 

They ate their food while mumbling about the next night’s show. Harry told her he wasn’t really thrilled about doing it, but she convinced him it would be fine. She was excited to attend a show as his girlfriend instead of a person he couldn’t stand to be around. Although he said he didn’t have an issue with anyone knowing about them, he told her, after she asked, that he wasn’t sure who knew about their new found relationship. As far as he was aware, Niall and Emma were the only two people who knew. Whether they told everyone else or not wasn’t something he knew. Ivy wanted to ask why he didn’t tell his friends, but she refrained. Perhaps it was just a private thing that he didn’t want to spread around like a teenage boy. 

After they ate and Harry insisted he’d cover the bill, he walked her to the car and opened the door for her. She felt special, yet undeserving. He drove them back to his place, glad that Niall wouldn’t be home tonight. When they arrived, he rushed to her door and opened it yet again before grabbing her bag to carry it in for her. She brought a change of clothes for the night, but told him that she’d need to go home to change tomorrow before the show. 

“We’ve got the place to ourselves tonight, Dad is out.” He chuckled as he shut the door behind her, turning the locks. 

Ivy laughed, imagining how intense Niall might be at times. She looked around the space, somewhat remembering what it looked like. She only came by once, the night that Harry came out of the bathroom and ran into her. Unfortunately, every place they go together seems to hold bad memories for her. She pushed it aside and turned to face him. 

“Is it okay if I change?” 

“Yeah. Um, you can go up to my room or the bathroom.” 

“Okay.” She took the bag from his hand and excused herself up the stairs. 

Harry went to the kitchen to gather a few items. He wasn’t sure what she would want as a sweet snack. They decided not to get ice cream, she was full after their meal and wanted to get out of her dress. He knew Niall had a candy stash in the back of the pantry, so he stole some of that. He grabbed her a bottle of water and sat a bag of popcorn on the counter, intending to ask her when she returned if she wanted any. 

Upstairs, Ivy hesitated at first on which room to go into. She didn’t want to feel like an intruder, so she chose the bathroom. She would eventually end up in his bedroom tonight anyway, so she’ll just wait to see what hides behind the door. Changing into a pair of yoga pants, although she didn’t do yoga at all, and a t-shirt was a relief. Her feet weren’t really tired from her shoes since she didn’t have to walk or stand a lot, but it was nice to get them off and slip on a pair of socks. She was glad she packed some makeup wipes. Once her skin was cleaned and her teeth were brushed, she packed her items into the bag and zipped it up. 

When she walked out, her eyes moved over to the door she knew led to Harry’s bedroom. She thought about dropping her bag in there, but she still had that intruder feeling burning in her gut. So, she left it in the hall outside of his room, intending to pick it up later. As she came down the stairs, she saw him adjusting the hem of a t-shirt he changed into. He snuck down the hallway to the laundry room to change while she was gone. Sweatpants covered his lower half. 

“Hope I don’t scare you.” Ivy said with a laugh as he looked over and saw her. 

“Scare me?” He held his hands out, waiting for her to join him. 

She crossed the room to where he stood in front of the couch. She saw the arrangement of candies and the water he laid out, it made her heart swell. Ivy wrapped her arms around his torso and giggled as he embraced her, squeezing her tight. 

“My makeup is gone.” 

He huffed. “You’re gorgeous.” 

She didn’t say anything back, just bolted her eyes shut as she savored the feeling of being against him. He could tell she was tired, but he hoped she at least wanted to start a movie with him. As he pulled back, she grunted and yanked him back against her. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her head as he gently rocked them from side to side. Ivy had dreamed of this moment, of just being close to him and holding on tight. She never wanted it to end. 

“Thank you for going with me tonight.” Harry sighed out, being patient with her. 

“Thank you for asking me to.” She mumbled into his chest, not caring how long she was holding their hug. 

One of his hands fell down her back, he missed being this close to her. “Maybe we can go out once a week. Do different things.” 

“I’d like that.” 

He hummed, kissing her head again. “Or more than once. I just want to see you as much as possible.” 

“Sorry, this week was just busy.. I’ll have more time soon.”

“Don’t apologize.” He grunted, sliding his hand to her hip. 

“I want to say sorry for apologizing.”

The laugh Ivy let out made him smile. He thought she was the funniest, cutest person on the planet. Harry pulled back, touching his palm to her jaw. She naturally leaned into his touch, moving her eyes up to look at him. The sight was marvelous, he loved to see her smiling at him. 

“You’re something else, y’know.”

Ivy grinned back, then puckered her lips for a kiss. He would be a fool to pass up the opportunity. It was gentle and sweet at first, just a series of pecks and soft laughs. But like the previous times, it quickly turned into something more. The gentleness went away as the hunger and desire to have each other took over. Harry shoved his tongue into her mouth, being greedy with the taste of her.  

Her hands went wild, running up his front to his neck, holding onto him on either side. He could feel her nails digging into his skin, leaving indents in what belonged to her. The feeling of her skin against his just made his hunger grow. He gripped her waist as tight as he could, shaping his hand perfectly to her body. He wanted to melt onto her, wanted to soak her up inch by inch. She didn’t once hesitate as he started to move. Harry backed up until he reached the couch. She grunted as he broke the kiss, but he didn’t let her slip away. He sat down on the couch and pulled her onto his lap. Instinctively, her legs fell on either side of his and she grabbed his neck, holding onto him as they reconnected their mouths. 

Her small hands held onto his jaws now, tilting his head back as she shoved her tongue into his mouth. She wanted the control, and he so easily gave it to her. Harry’s mind was long gone down a path it probably shouldn’t have ventured on, and his judgement was clouded by his own desires. While Ivy was just as lost in the bliss, she was becoming more aware of what he was doing with his hands. She grunted as he let one fall further down than it ever had. At first, she thought she was being dramatic, it wasn’t so bad. But his touch turned into kneading and she was becoming anxious about what he was going to do next. It felt nice, so she didn’t stop him. 

Harry’s kissing quickly became sloppier, spit pooling in the corners of their mouths, dripping down onto their skin. He was swiping up as much as her taste as he could, wanting to savor the flavor forever. 

Ivy was fine with everything. She was enjoying the kissing and how dirty it turned, she liked how he gripped her ass cheek and her waist at the same time, his heavy hands putting pressure against her body. She loved the way his face fit into her palms, how her hair fell over her shoulders onto him as she held him back. But it all started to fade when she realized something was happening. 

Harry was lifting his hips into her crotch, groaning as he pressed his growing bulge against her. She had never kissed someone so intensely before, especially in this position. She had never sat on anyone’s lap and let her body move against theirs before. It was new and it frightened her more than it probably should. She reached down to grab his wrist, pulling his hand off her ass. He furrowed his brows, not sure what she was doing. 

“Baby.” He grumbled out as she suddenly turned her head, ripping their lips apart. 

“No, Harry.” Ivy’s heavy breathing fanned over his skin. 

She shifted her head back, but her mouth stayed away from his. Her forehead pressed on his, her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. So much had happened in such a short time, she wasn't even sure how they ended up on the couch. Harry was good at giving her that affection she never knew she needed, so good at making her stomach drop and her heart flutter. He made her feel things nobody else had. He made her toes curl and wet spots form on her panties. She was afraid his sexual advances were too strong for her. What if she couldn’t keep up with him? What if he wanted something now and she refused, would he leave her? It must be tiring having to wait, and must be irritating getting denied. 

“Not here.” She whispered out, not quite sure how to turn him down. 

“Do you wanna go to my bedroom?” He reached for her lips, but she didn’t allow it. 

“No.. I.. No, I don’t want to do anything.” Her words came out in a sigh, her eyes squeezing shut as she mentally screamed at herself. 

She wanted this with him more than anything, more than with anyone before. Why was she being so hesitant, so afraid? Her mind began swirling, her heart still racing. There was no way he would put up with his for much longer. He was going to grow sick of her games, of her leading him on and going along with his actions just to deny him. Of course, it had only happened twice.. surely it wasn’t that irritating. Her mind was too busy to consider any other possibility. 

He felt a pinch in his heart, only because he was embarrassed he took it so far again. “Oh, m’sorry.” 

Her lip was quivering, tears threatened to build up in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I.. I can’t right now.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” He calmly spoke. 

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head and leaned back, giving him a bit of space. 

At first, he wasn’t going to move his hands from her body, but when she looked over at the cushion next to him and started to move, he let her go. She fell on her butt next to him, her hand sweeping her hair over her shoulder. A heavy sigh fell from her lips, he could see how sad she was. 

“Baby, it’s alright. I promise.” He carefully touched her thigh, hoping not to frighten her. 

“I didn’t mean to.. to lead you on again.” Her voice was frail, almost like she was going to cry. 

“Ivy, it’s fine. We got a bit heated again, that’s all. No worries, okay?” Harry didn’t know how else to say it. He didn’t want to get her riled up over nothing. 

“Are you sure it’s okay?” 

He splayed his fingers on her leg. “It’s perfectly okay.”

“You’re gonna get tired of waiting.” She whined softly, her head turning towards him. 

Instantly, his heart fell to the bottom of his stomach. A single tear slipped down her cheek, her skin was flushed as her emotions raged inside of her. He shook his head and leaned against her, wanting to put his arm around her but he didn’t want to scare her off. 

“No, I won’t. I’d wait forever for you, Ivy.” Harry pressed a kiss to her temple. 

Her eyes fell down to his hand, she wanted to hold it so bad. She’s come to realize recently that holding his hand might be her favorite thing. He does so much with his hands. He plays the guitar, holds a microphone, runs them through his hair, grips the handles of his motorcycle.. She’s seen his fists clench in anger, felt how comforting his warm palm is on her skin, watched how he taps them on his leg absentmindedly. She loved his hands.. and she wanted them all over her body, but not tonight. 

“Do you want to.. keep kissing?” He was still leaning into her, his voice soft as he spoke next to her ear. “We don’t have to.. to do anything else.” 

The idea was intriguing, but she was unsure about it. What if it happened again? They were quick to go off the deep end. It wasn’t possible to just softly kiss and carefully touch each other.

She shrugged. “I.. I dunno.”

Harry stared at the side of her face for a moment, thinking of what he could do to fix her mood. Maybe she was just anxious and needed to calm down. She didnt appear to be tired, but maybe she’d rather go lay down than risk anything else happening on the couch. He took a deep breath and bit on his cheek as he thought about what to say. Ivy picked at her fingernail, not wanting to rip it but fighting the instinct to. 

After a few seconds, he finally spoke. “Do you want to watch a movie or.. or go to bed? Either is fine with me.” 

She already knew the answer she was going to pick. Carefully, she placed her hand on top of his, copying the positioning of his fingers. He let a smile come to his lips, seeing her do that was more magical than he could ever explain. There was a time when he never imagined this could be real, yet here they are now. 

“Can we go to bed? I’m tired.” She looked over at him, a resting pout on her lips. 

“Yeah, of course.” 

She swallowed. “Sorry, I keep changing the.. the plans you made.” 

“What do you mean?” His brows furrowed slightly. 

“First, no ice cream now this.. no movie.” 

Harry let out a light laugh, shaking his head at her. “Oh, love, that’s fine. It’s not a problem, I promise.” 

She gave him a sad look, not believing what he was telling her. He closed the space between them and placed a kiss on her lips. It was nothing too crazy, just a gentle peck. She wanted to beg him for more, but she didn’t open her mouth as he leaned back. 

“Any time I get to spend with you is special.. no matter what we do.” 

Even though she felt bad for her decision, she was ready to be next to him under his covers. Harry took a minute to clean up the stuff he got out for them, with Ivy apologizing several times for making him do all this work. He told her it wasn’t a worry and they could easily make up their movie date some other time. She wasn’t convinced he was actually okay with her decision, but she tried to ignore it. He didn’t appear irritated on the outside, so maybe he wasn’t. 

Harry guided her upstairs, letting her go in front of him. She grabbed her bag that she left outside of his door. He gestured her to go in first, so she did. It was dark when they walked in, but Harry flicked on the light before shutting the door behind himself. Ivy looked around the room, curiosity consuming her. Harry leaned against the door as he watched her. His room was interesting to her. The walls were an off white shade, she wondered if he was allowed to paint with his rental agreement or not. Of course he had the usual pieces of furniture like a dresser, a desk, and a short bookcase, but her attention went straight to the details. There was a band poster in a frame on one wall, but the rest of the walls were nearly bare. He had a collection of vinyl records resting in the bottom slots of the bookcase. The rest of the shelves were filled with CDs. A turntable sat on top of the case. She thought the collection was impressive, and she was wondering what all it entailed. His desk caught her eye. It was plain as far as the build went, but what sat on top of it was interesting. He had a metal cup full of pens and other writing utensils, plus a pair of scissors. There was a short stack of books sitting there neatly, and beneath the desk on its shelf sat a bigger assortment of books. She could tell they weren’t regular books, but rather journals or notebooks. It was hard not to think about what was inside those books. Did he keep a diary similar to how she did, or was it more of a creative outlet? 

She wondered if this was how he felt in her room, curiosity bubbling and her mind taking in every single detail. It was like she was getting to know him even more by just looking at his belongings. Of course, in the corner he had a guitar resting on a stand and another one hanging on the wall near it. There was a loose piece of paper resting on the desk, a pen next to it. She wasn’t even aware of her movements until her fingers gently pressed on the paper and slid it on the desk. She turned it so she could read the jotted down note. 

pick up Ivy’s flowers at 5 shop closes at 5:30

A sweet smile covered her lips as she read over the words he wrote. She thought it was adorable that he put down a reminder for himself. Harry pushed himself off the door and crossed the room. He took the bag out of her hand and sat it on his desk chair. 

“My curious little cat, hm?” 

Blush appeared on her face and she let out a gentle laugh. “You have a lot of journals. Do you write?” 

He lifted a shoulder, trying not to be too serious about it. “Just.. stuff. Like.. notes, poems, lyrics.”

“Poems and lyrics?” She lifted a brow, that curiosity was just eating her alive. 

Harry chuckled, a smile shaping to his lips. “Yeah.” 

“You write songs?”

“I mean, sorta, I guess. Nothing serious.. M’not pursuing it. Just do it for fun and to get stuff off my mind.” He explained. 

She slowly nodded as she looked around the rest of the room. For the most part, he was neat and tidy. She noted the stark difference between his bed and hers. His was a size smaller and covered only by the usual blankets and pillows, while hers was littered with plush animals. She definitely didn’t expect him to have those sort of things, though, it was just notable. 

“What do you write about?” 

Her question made his chest tighten. Although he wanted to be completely honest with her, he’d be lying if he thought it wasn’t nerve wracking. What if she thought his answer was strange, what if it made her mad? He licked his lips and pushed down a gulp. 

“Lots of stuff.. including you.” 

Her head turned towards him, her sparkling eyes went wide. “Me?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, sometimes about you.” 

Without saying anything, she turned her attention back to what she had been gazing at. But there was a smile stuck to her lips and a warmth in her heart that pulsed hard. He wrote about her? He didn’t specify if he wrote poems or songs or notes about her, but something in her mind told her it was all three. Of course, it was all three. 

“Not too weird, am I?” He said with a laugh. 

Ivy turned to face him, a smile on her face. “I think I’m the weird one between the two of us.”

He took a few steps closer, reaching out to touch her waist. “You’re adorable, not weird.”

One thing he loved doing was watching her as she trailed her eyes over his body. She was a curious girl after all, it was in her nature to explore. Her eyes fell to his arm as she wrapped her hand over his elbow. His tattoos caught her attention so easily. It was like it was the first time she'd seen them. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

“Mhm.. just looking.” Her fingers started tracing down his arm, slowly and steadily. 

Harry had an idea lurking in his mind. It was something he wanted to do the last time her eyes scanned over his tattoos, but he was too nervous to bring it up. Now, things were different. He felt more confident with her. 

“I can show you all of them.. if you want.” 

Her eyes flicked up to his. “Really?”

“Yeah. There’s some you haven’t seen.”

“I’d love to look.”

He took a breath and clenched his jaw as he waited to ask her a question. His eyes poured into hers, his focus so sharp and intense. She felt her cheeks blushing red hot, her eyes stuck to his despite wanting to look away in shyness. 

“Is it alright if I take my shirt off and change into some shorts?” He gently lifted his brows. 

She nodded, not saying anything, just putting on a cute smile for him. He squeezed her waist once before letting her go. She watched as he went to his dresser and pulled out a drawer. Did he want her to leave the room while he changed? She didn’t know what to do. Her stomach started to churn as she contemplated how to react. Maybe he didn’t care. Just as she started walking to the door, he turned around. 

“Running off already?”

She froze, looking back at him. “I didn’t want to be in the way.”

Harry smirked. “You can stay, love. I’ll turn away from you.” 

She felt embarrassed. He could see she wasn’t completely comfortable with her own behavior, so he made it simple for her. He turned back around and dropped the sweatpants to the floor. A pair of gym shorts replaced them. He normally slept in just his underwear, but he knew it was too much for her right now. He wanted her to be comfortable and relaxed, not stressed or tense over his clothes or lack thereof. She didn’t watch him, despite not twisting around to avoid getting a glimpse. When he let out a sigh and his footsteps filled the room, she thought he was done. She looked up in time to witness him pull his shirt over his head. Their eyes met as he tossed it on the desk, intending to put it away later. She had never seen him with his shirt completely off, and it was an incredible sight. 

Her throat began to close in as her mind drifted. He was so toned, his muscles built and his physique was perfect. He was stunning, she felt as though her physical appearance would never compliment his. He held out his hand and nodded his head towards the bed. She took it with ease and followed behind him. 

Harry sat down on the foot of his bed, parting his knees to drag her between them. She held her breath as he carefully moved her closer, his eyes locked on her face to make sure she was comfortable. He wanted to catch every expression, whether major or subtle. Ivy ran her eyes over his collarbones. She’s seen those birds peak out from beneath his shirt before, but she hadn’t seen them in full. With more confidence than she had all night, she lifted her hand and pressed her fingertips to the bird inked on the right side of his chest. 

“Yours are.. a lot more detailed than mine.” She mumbled softly, her gaze shifting to the other bird. 

“Hiding yours, hm?” He smirked as her eyes shot to his. 

Ivy chose to ignore him, and instead just return to her exploration. Even though she had seen most of them, she was still intrigued to get a better look. She ran her hand over the butterfly on his stomach, that was still her favorite one, then carefully down to the laurels resting dangerously low on his abdomen. He chuckled slightly as her delicate touch tickled his skin. She grinned back, amused by his innocent reactions. It was hard to believe at times that such a hardened soul like his could express such simple reactions. She knew it was possible, though, she just had to work hard to get it out of him. 

“You got this the first time we met.. well, sort of met.” She said with a sigh as she traced her fingers over his right arm, the snake curling around his bones and muscles was something she could never forget. 

“I remember. We should’ve met for real, but I was a dick.” He frowned when her eyes moved back to his. 

“Maybe so.” 

He dropped his gaze down to his leg. He knew she was more familiar with his arms, especially the usual exposed areas, so he wanted to make sure she saw the other things he had. Harry gently took hold of her wrist and moved her hand to his thigh, letting her touch the tiger sunk into his skin. She felt as though this was the most intimate spot she had touched him. Something about it was intense, bone rattling even. She gulped softly, wondering what this one meant to him. She didn’t want to intrude, perhaps it meant nothing or maybe it meant more than he was willing to tell her. That went for each of them. She just admired them, she didn’t ask. 

The gulp she pushed down was audible, her voice was as light as a feather. “Do you want to see? Mine aren’t as impressive.” 

“If you want me to see them.” Harry smiled sweetly as she sucked on her cheek and let her face go red.

For a split second, she screamed internally begging herself to stop before it even started. But it was quickly silenced as she grabbed his index and middle fingers, bringing his hand up to her hip. She smiled gently as she placed his fingers on her body. He rubbed his thumb over the waistband of her pants, his eyes locked on her. She pushed his hand down, forcing his fingers to move the fabric. He took over, but didn’t dare go too far. He slid the side of her pants down until he exposed the fabric of her powder blue colored cotton underwear. She bit down on her cheek as he carefully pulled the fabric down until he saw the little tattoo, a four leaf clover. It was a simple design, thin lines and no shading. 

“A lot of people don’t get to experience a full life. I’m lucky to be where I am.. even if it’s not forever.” She explained without him asking her to, but she figured he wouldn’t mind. 

He didn’t, of course. He thought the meaning was nice, it meant something special to her. She’s lost two very important people in her life, so reminding herself of the luxury of being alive was extremely meaningful. He pressed his thumb over the clover, the surrounding skin turning pale as he pushed into her. He let up the pressure and gently tapped it. He hoped he’d get to rediscover it soon, get to press his lips to it and make sure she knew how lucky he was to have her. 

“Some of that luck must’ve rubbed off on me. How else do I explain how I won you over?” His cheeky smile made her playfully roll her eyes. 

She pinched his cheek, going straight for his dimple. “Well, you do touch me there more than I think you realize.” 

Harry stared at her hip as he adjusted her pants back, covering the tattoo and her skin. He wished he could’ve seen more of her, but he was well aware that wasn't what she wanted right now. 

She sucked in a deep breath as she debated whether or not to show him her other one. He was literally in the room with her when she got the flowers on the back of her arm, and the one in the bend of her elbow, the small star, was clearly visible - but there was one more he didn’t know about. Ivy pushed away her fears and anxiety as she lifted her shirt. The second the cool air hit her skin, she felt her stomach churn. The waistband of her pants was thick and it came up high. She was thankful the part of her body she was the most insecure about was mostly covered by the fabric. Harry smiled gently as she grabbed his hand and brought it up to her torso, placing it beneath the edge of her bra. Her boobs were covered by her shirt, she didn’t want him to see anything beyond the tattoo. He moved his eyes to the spot and shifted his thumb, revealing the small tattoo. The style of the butterfly matched the clover, and the flowers on her arm - fine line, delicate, thin. 

“That’s all.” She mumbled quietly, biting her cheek as she watched him stare at her skin. 

He wondered what was beneath her shirt, tucked into her bra.. but he had to force that thought out of his brain. It would be insensitive and disrespectful for him to sit there and think those sort of things when she plainly told him she wasn’t interested in any of that right now. Instead, his arms slid around her, locking her in place. She grabbed his face with both hands, placing a kiss on his puckered lips. 

“Are you ready to cuddle, little bug?” 

“Mhm.” Ivy was blushing, per usual. She tried to slip out of his grip but he wouldn’t let her go. She sunk her nails into his shoulder, almost forgetting he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Harry.”

“Fine.” He let out a huff as he loosened his arms and pulled back. 

“Which side is mine?” She asked with a soft laugh as she crawled on the bed. 

“Whichever side you want.” He stood up in time to see her plop down on the bed. 

Unlike hers, his bed wasn’t in the corner of the room so both sides were open. She claimed the spot he normally favored at night, which made his heart skip a beat. Seeing her in his spot, her hair spread out over his pillow, was like a dream. 

He didn’t want to leave her waiting long, so he turned out the light and joined her. There was a street light that offered them a glow, peeping in through the space between the curtains. She watched him slide under the covers and roll over towards her, his greedy hands reaching out for her. 

“C’mere.” He muttered, dragging her closer. 

She sighed in content as she relaxed into his body, her face nestled in the crook of his neck. She liked the feeling of his warm bare skin, it gave her comfort she couldn’t describe, 

“Did you enjoy tonight?” He asked through a heavy exhale. “I know we didn’t do everything we planned.”

“It was lovely. I had a good time.” 

Harry pressed a kiss to her head. “Even though I was a bit of an ass at the restaurant.”

Ivy pulled her hand up, tucking it between their bodies. “You just have to be more patient, but yes, everything was great.” 

He could tell she was comfortable by the steady, slow breathing she was doing. It wouldn’t be much longer before she fell asleep. With one arm around her back and the other hand resting on her waist, he kept her close. His thumb rubbed slowly back and forth, soothing her so easily. 

“We can watch a movie in the morning before Niall gets back.. have the living room to ourselves.” He kept his voice low. 

She hummed. “That sounds good, yeah. Get more cuddles.”

He kissed her again, just to give her as much affection and attention as he could. She must’ve been more worn out than he thought, because she grew silent quickly. He wasn’t necessarily tired, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. And he sure wasn’t about to leave her in the bed alone. He’d lie awake next to her for the rest of his life if he meant he could hold her while she slept. 

There was a lurking thought in his mind, though, that was attributing to him staying awake. He thought he did something wrong during their date, that maybe he didn’t make it perfect. If he did make a mistake, he believed that she would tell him. She’s good at letting him know when he’s acting a certain way or when he’s in the wrong. But she seemed to enjoy everything, even the change of plans. Maybe he was just overthinking it. Disappointing her in any way was something he feared. 

“Harry..” Her soft voice broke the silence. 

“Yeah?” 

She shifted slightly, returning her hand to his waist. His stomach twisted as she gently rubbed her fingertips over his skin. 

“If I ask you something, will you be honest?” 

He licked his lips. “Of course.”

Her lips brushed his skin as she spoke, creating goosebumps and sending chills through him. “Are you mad that I.. stopped us earlier?”

“No, Ivy. I told you it’s fine.” He tightened his hold on her waist. 

“I don’t want you to leave me if I.. take too long to try.” 

He grunted, bringing his hand up to her head. He gently grabbed her jaw and tilted her head back so he could see her. She had a frown on her lips and a sadness in her eyes that made his heart drop.

“Baby, I wouldn’t do that.”

Hearing that pet name made her feel a little better, but that worry was still so intense. She pouted her lips out, her eyes closing to avoid his stare. His thumb rubbed slow circles into her cheek in an attempt to calm her. 

“I want to.. just not right now.”

Being open with people was something he struggled with, but he’s trying hard to be different with her. He wanted to ask her questions and get to the bottom of the issue or of her worry, not just assure her everything is fine. He had to open himself to be there for her. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

Ivy shifted her head back into his neck, wanting to be comfortable. “Yeah.” 

He waited a long moment before saying anything. The topic shouldn’t be one they avoid or are ashamed to talk about. It should be a normal, respectful thing. It was in both of their best interests if they knew certain things about each other. 

“Are you.. are you a virgin?” He asked with a light voice, not wanting to make too big of a fuss over it. 

Ivy let out a shaky breath that hit his skin. It was an inevitable topic that she couldn’t escape. If Harry wanted to know something about her, then she wanted to tell him. Clearly, it’s on his mind - for a reason she’s yet to know. 

“Um, no. Technically, no.” She replied with a gentle sigh. 

“Technically?” 

She dropped her hand to the small of his back, curling her fingers into her palm. “Just did it once.. and it was a while ago.” 

Harry thought maybe he went far enough. What if she thought he was being inappropriate? Despite having doubts, he kept on. 

“Was it.. was it bad?” 

She swallowed, pushing her face further into his neck. “Yeah, kinda.” 

“M’not trying to be.. invasive, just want to understand your mind. Why you might be unsure about it.” Harry was quick to explain. 

She nodded, relaxing her fingers against his back now. “I’m not unsure.. I just know I’m not ready. I want to, trust me, but it’s only been a week.”

“I know, and I don’t want you to feel rushed at all. It’s fine with me.” Harry gave her waist another squeeze. “And I definitely don’t want you to think I’m just trying to get in your pants.”

She let out a soft laugh that eased his nerves. “I know.” 

He tightened his arm around her back as she yawned, sleep threatening to fall over her. She hid her face in his neck, trying her best to bury herself in him. It wasn’t long before she yawned again, causing a smile to shape to his lips. She was even more adorable when she was tired. He wanted to snuggle her closer, but they were as close as humanly possibly already. When Ivy yawned for the third time, he knew she was tired and needed to rest. He didn’t want her to stay up late and worry with him. They could talk in the morning. 

“Go to sleep, baby.” He smiled as he kissed her forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” Her words came out in a gentle murmur. 

Another kiss was placed on her skin before he closed his eyes, soon joining her in a slumber. 

—•—

Ivy wasn’t sure what was going on as she started to wake up. Her eyes slowly opened, the sun was shining bright through the window. She grunted and turned her face back down where it had been resting, right against Harry’s shoulder. He heard her little noises and felt her stirring. He dropped his phone and reached over to grab onto her. Sometime during the night they ended up like this - him laying on his back with her body draped over his. Her arm was tucked under him and the other around his torso. 

“Finally waking up, love?” He said in a groggy voice as she 

“Hmm.. what time is it?” She mumbled back, lifting her head to get a better look at him. 

He chuckled as he saw her messy hair, her bangs all over the place. “Little past eleven.”

She groaned, letting her face fall back on him. “Why did I sleep so long? We weren’t even up late.”

Harry smiled as her hand moved from his side to the butterfly inked onto his skin. He wasn’t sure if she purposely did that or if her hand just so happened to land there. 

“You slept like an angel, only moved a few times.” 

Her breaths were still slow and heavy. “You’re just comfortable and good at cuddles.”

“Who would’ve known?” He playfully pinched her hip, making her hum. 

“M’glad I just know.. nobody else.” 

There was a certain feeling of pride and triumph that lived in her when it came to knowing she was Harry’s first real relationship, the first person he’s held intimately. It made her feel like a queen, like she had some weird kind of power. Nobody could know him in that way - maybe with other things, but not in this way.

“Jealous, huh?” He teased. 

“Maybe.” She picked her head up again, her pretty eyes finding his. “How long have you been up?”

He shrugged. “Since nine, I think.”

“You could’ve woke me up.. didn’t have to stay here with me.” 

He scoffed, putting on a dramatic expression. “Are you kidding? I wasn’t gonna pass up the opportunity to be next to you, baby.” 

Ivy rolled her eyes and pushed her lips on to his. They shared a few sweet pecks, both laughing as she started to plant a trail down his jaw. His fingers dug into her hip as he tried to drag her closer, but she was already molded onto him. When she caught his gaze again, she gave him a cheeky smile. 

“What movie are we going to watch?” She curiously asked. 

“Whatever you want.”

She sighed, but kept her smile. “Always that answer, hm?”

“You get whatever you want, princess.” He winked, spending her cheeks into a blazing fire. The simplest things drove her wild. 

It wasn’t long before he guided her down the stairs to the kitchen. He offered to make her a quick late breakfast and since she was starving, she didn’t pass on it. It was a nice meal consisting of fried eggs and a few pancakes he mixed from a box. It filled her up so good that she was yawning when Harry joined her on the couch. 

It took a few minutes for her to decide on a movie, but once she did, she got comfortable against him. Her legs were pulled up on the couch, her arm tucked around him. He held onto her shoulders like she was going to slip away if he didn’t. He was less focused with the movie and more concerned with Ivy. There wasn’t anything specific that he could pick up on, but he just had a worry in his gut. Maybe this was normal for people who are in relationships, maybe it was something that just happened. Worry, concern, care, caution - he wasn’t quite sure what to call it.

When he draped his arm over her shoulder, she didn’t hesitate to reach for his hand. He smiled as she started playing with his fingers. Her eyes were glued to the television screen, but her mind was going fuzzy. She wasn’t tired, but rather she was content. It was hard to think of a time when she’d been this relaxed before - there wasn’t a time to reminisce about. He made her calm, happy, and comfortable. He was just sitting next to her with his hand around her, yet it felt like her world was exploding with euphoria and butterflies and rainbows and everything happy. Was it love? She couldn’t determine that just yet. 

Harry didn’t realize he had dozed off until the sound of keys rattling in the door woke him. He grunted, trying to move his hand but Ivy’s grip was too strong. He stopped attempting and let her keep hold of him. She was awake, despite feeling so peaceful she never fell asleep. The movie wasn’t long from its end. 

“You alright?” He mumbled just as Niall opened the door. 

“Mhm.” She squeezed his fingers. 

Niall appeared next to them, an amused look on his face as he saw Harry’s expression. “Look like you just woke up.”

“I’ve been up.” Harry sighed back. 

“He was just snoring.” Ivy chimed in with a laugh, tugging on his hand. 

Harry smiled, amused by her comeback. He didn’t defend himself, only because he knew it was true. Niall didn’t bother them anymore, he waved them off as he mentioned going to his room. Before he exited, though, he reminded Harry that he needed to practice one of the songs they would be playing later on that night. 

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked her, a deep exhale following his question. 

“No, I’m okay.” 

“Guess I need to go mess around on the guitar.” He didn’t seem excited. 

Ivy sat up, letting go of his fingers so he could stretch his arms out. “Do you need me to go home?”

He furrowed his brows and reached up to grab her waist. “What? No.”

“Don’t you need to be alone?”

“Who said I needed to be alone?” He said with a chuckle, sitting up to join her on the edge of the couch. “You can stay, babe.”

Every time he used one of those sweet names her heart would swell and butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She smiled as she felt her cheeks warm up. 

“I don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be.” He closed the space they shared and gently pushed his lips on her. “I promise.”

Ivy let him kiss her for a few moments, humming as he grabbed her jaw to hold her still. As much as he wanted to swallow her whole, he knew he had to get upstairs. He let her go and took her hand to lead her upstairs. 

She was quite curious about his ability to play the guitar, something about it was so interesting and intriguing. She wasn’t opposed to watching him, in fact she was excited to. The possibility of him wanting her to leave almost felt like a fear. She didn’t want to miss out on the experience of watching him. 

When they got to his room, he told her she could do whatever she wanted while he got the guitar off of the stand. He pulled out an amp and set everything up. Ivy chose to stand in the middle of his room on his rug, her hands folded behind her back as she observed his every move. As he turned around, he didn't expect to see her standing still. She grinned at him, pulling a chuckle out of his mouth. He thought she was just the most adorable thing ever. 

“Can I sit here?” She asked. 

Harry sat down in his desk chair after he turned it to face the amp. He gave her a nod and a smile, not sure why she was so giddy about this. Maybe she thought it was cool that he could play the guitar? It wasn’t a revolutionary thing in his mind, but maybe she thought so. 

Ivy sat down on the rug, just a few feet from him, with her eyes stuck on his hands as he rested his fingers over the strings. He glanced around at everything to make sure it was all set up properly. When he was sure that he did everything right, he ran his fingers down the strings, the sound spilling from the amplifier.

Although he was very familiar and comfortable with the song he was about to practice, he had never had such an intense audience before. He’s played plenty of shows, done many band practices, had Niall’s hard stare watching every move of his finger when he first learned to play - but nobody was as intimidating as Ivy. He was feeling anxiety pour into his veins. What if he messed up and she thought he was stupid? The thoughts were endless all of a sudden. 

Harry was trying not to look directly at her, but it was hard to resist her. She was sitting with her legs crossed and her hands resting in her lap. Those sparkling eyes were fixed on him as she waited patiently for him to start. He took a deep breath and slowly pushed it out, not sure how this was going to go. If he thought about her any longer, his heart was going to explode. 

He didn’t tell her what song he had to work on, but she knew what it was the moment he started the opening chords. She smiled big as he played the riff so confidently. He seemed very sure of himself. While she had only been to a few shows, she knew she’d never heard them play this song before. Niall wanted to add it last time but they didn’t end up doing it, so he told everyone yesterday after confirming they’d do the show tonight that he wanted to perform it. Ivy quite enjoyed the Def Leppard song and she was excited to see them do it live later on. 

It had been a long time since they last did the song, so Harry was trying to loosen up his memory of it. He didn’t do the lead singing during the song, Niall preferred to do it instead. Right now it was almost like he suddenly forgot what he was supposed to be doing. His fingers slid off the strings, making him groan and shake his head. He should’ve grabbed a pick but he forgot to. He looked down at Ivy, whose eyes were just as wide as when he started. She smiled sweetly, hoping to give him some silent encouragement. 

He started over from the start. Everything was going well, he even got further than he did in his first attempt. But that all came crashing down when his eyes fell down on her and she was biting down on her lip, still smiling like she was witnessing a miracle. She was so happy to be in the room with him, and to be able to watch him do this just made her even more excited. Ivy was just as obsessed with him as he was of her, and right now that was obvious. 

“Fuck.” He uttered under his breath as he missed a few chords. He tried to keep going, but it messed up his momentum. 

Harry shook his hand, trying to loosen up his fingers. Maybe he was a bit rusty. He picked up where he messed up, getting it correct this time. He kept going, tapping his foot to keep his pace right. He tried to keep his eyes glued to his guitar, but Ivy being in the room was forcing him to think about her and not the song. He shot his eyes to her again, her cheeks were rosy and her hands were clasped together. She was so entertained and content with this, yet he was struggling to keep ahold of himself. 

“Damn it.” His curse was a bit louder than the last one. 

Her smile fell down to a subtle frown. Harry pushed his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. He wasn’t sure why he was fucking up so much - well, he knew, he just didn’t want to admit it or seem like he was blaming her. She wasn’t doing anything. She’s literally just sitting there watching him, her lips sealed. There were no audible distractions, she wasn’t walking around or calling his name. She was just there. He thought it would almost be better and easier if she were jumping around or messing with stuff in his room or doing anything other than putting her pretty eyes on him. 

“Am I distracting you?” Ivy asked in a soft voice, fearful of the answer. 

“No.” He quickly replied. 

“You keep messing up.” 

A laugh slipped out with his breath. “Yeah, thanks, love. I know.” 

“Sorry.” She mumbled back, her eyes falling down to her own hands. 

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He sighed, disappointed in himself for making her suddenly uncomfortable and nervous. He had a way of doing that, unfortunately. 

Ivy’s hair fell over her shoulder as she hung her head. She wasn’t trying to be in his way, she even offered to leave before he ever started. Perhaps he was just being too nice to her. He should’ve told her to go home. She felt an uneasy feeling building in her stomach. 

Of course, seeing her like that made him feel like shit. He propped his guitar against his desk and got into the floor with her. She huffed as he got closer, slipping his hand onto her neck to get her to look up. She didn’t at first, though, she didn’t want to be in the way. 

“You’re a great distraction, babe. Just so pretty.. can’t stop looking at you.” He tilted her head up and pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Don’t be sad, Ivy.” 

The way he said her name made her heart drop. She frowned harder, a confusing sadness filling her up. Harry pressed another kiss to the spot, not moving his lips away at all. 

“What’s the matter, sweet girl? You were just smiling so big f’me.” 

She let out a whimper as she curled her fingers around his wrist. “I’m in the way.” 

“No, you aren’t.” 

“I should go home for a while.” 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t want you to go home yet.” 

“I’m making you mess up. I.. I don’t want you to get mad.” She kept her voice so light and gentle, it broke his heart to hear her speak that way - almost like she was afraid. “Don’t like it when you get mad.” 

He was upset with his own actions now. He had a tendency to lose his control and unfortunately Ivy was too familiar with it. But he didn’t feel that way right now, he wouldn’t do that to her over this simple situation. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. 

“M’not gonna get mad at you, baby. You just make me a little nervous, s’all.” 

She closed her eyes. “Is it okay if I go home?” 

Had he done too much? Had he messed up again? Maybe he was making an expression that made her feel this way, something he didn’t notice he was doing. Or perhaps she was just nervous about a potential blow up from him? There had to be a reason she was so upset with him, but he had no clue what he did. Was it too complicated for her to explain and for him to understand? 

“I.. I really don’t want you to go.” He leaned back some to give her space, but he kept his hand where it was and she didn’t try to let it go. 

“We’ll be together later, though.” 

“Ivy, what’s wrong? I.. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did.” Harry’s brows fell as worry sank into him. “Why do you wanna go?” 

It was hard for her to tame her wandering mind, and it was disappointing to know that she had failed to control it yet again. She dropped her gaze down to her own legs, trying to vanish into thin air. She didn’t want to confront her fears and admit to Harry what was on her mind, but there was no escape. 

“Because, I’m in the way and you won’t tell me that. You don’t wanna hurt my feelings and that’s okay, but.. I know I’m in the way and you need to practice.” Her explanation was heartbreaking for him. 

Maybe it was true in some sense. She wasn’t literally in the way or doing something to purposely distract or annoy him, but her presence made it hard for him to focus on anything else. There was nothing done to put blame on. She didn’t purposely do anything to him. It was his fault, if anything. He can’t focus on anything else when Ivy is around. She took up every inch of his mind, filled in every space. She meant everything to him, how could he try to put his attention on something else? Maybe her being here would make things difficult. Was it safer for their relationship and his mood to let her go for a while? 

“I guess if you want to go, you can. I can’t make you stay.” He exhaled slowly, wishing this was happening another way. 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” 

He smiled, shaking his head lightly in disbelief. “You always apologize when you don’t need to.” 

“I can’t help it.” She grinned back, glad to see that he was at least appearing to be okay with this. 

“I, um, I can drive you home and.. you can have the afternoon to yourself until tonight. I’ll pick you up.” He offered, not sure of what else to say. 

“I can get Emma to come get me, so you can keep practicing.” 

He thought about debating it with her and offering his services over and over until she agreed, but he chose not to. There was no point in adding any fuel to this small, simmered down fire. 

“I’ll text her.” She grabbed her phone from the spot on the rug where she abandoned it earlier. 

Harry watched as her fingers tapped on the screen. Although it bothered him to know she was wanting to leave, he completely understood why. He just hated it. He didn’t want her to go so soon. They hadn’t been able to spend much time together and this weekend was supposed to make up for it. He felt a bit of irritation towards Niall for pressuring him to practice the song. He had sent Harry multiple texts the past two days insisting and reminding him to practice. It was his own fault that he waited until the day of the show to do it. 

“Okay, she said she’ll be here in about twenty minutes.” Ivy tossed the phone back down and turned her attention back to Harry. 

“Hey, m’not mad at you, okay?” 

She felt a lump start to form in her throat. “I know.” 

“I promise. I don’t want you to think you did something wrong.” 

Ivy didn’t really want to discuss it, in fear that it would lead to a disagreement or a misunderstanding, so she just reached down and took hold of his other hand. She leaned into him, her lips pushing into his. He hummed gently as she held the kiss for a few long seconds. 

“Can we kiss until it’s time for me to go?” She asked it so innocently. 

He smirked, releasing her hand to grab onto her waist. “Definitely.” 

She moved onto her knees, giggling as she grabbed his face on either side to pull his head back. He groaned into her mouth when she shoved her tongue past his lips. He was starting to believe that she was getting more comfortable and confident with him, that she was doing what she wanted to do rather than waiting for him to do it. 

There was a desire to relax into her, to lay her down on the floor and show her how special she was to him - but he couldn't do that. She didn’t want that yet. So, he let his hands move up and down her waist, toying with her hips without going too far. While he was hesitant with his placement, Ivy was running her hands all over him. She kept coming back to his neck to hold him on either side, her thumbs pushing up under his ears. She loved to feel him in her hold, loved to know she had him all to herself. There was a sense of possession she felt. Harry had no issue with whatever she wanted to do. She was in control. 

“Mm, Harry.” She gasped as she pulled back from his mouth. “I.. I wanna try something.” 

He lifted his brows as his eyes opened. “Whatever you want.” 

She nodded gently, a smile shaping to her lips as she pictured the idea in her mind. It was something she wanted to do so badly, something that was becoming irresistible. He waited quietly for her to tell him, figuring she would since she mentioned it. 

“Promise, anything?” 

Harry smirked and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Anything is fine with me, promise.” 

Ivy took that as permission and approval. She grabbed his face by his jaw again and yanked him back to her. His hand slid to the small of her back as she started the kissing back. He was confused at first because nothing seemed to be different. He was leading the kiss, his tongue sweeping through her mouth so easily. It wasn’t until she moved her hand to the side of his head did he realize what she wanted to do. 

She slid her fingers into his hair, scraping her nails against his scalp as she guided her touch to the back of his head. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and gave him a light tug. He let out a light moan, the feeling of her fingers in his hair was doing incredible things to him. He squeezed her waist tight and spread his fingers out on her back, hoping to send her a sign that he was enjoying it. Ivy couldn’t stop herself from pulling harder after a few minutes. At first, she was only going to use one hand, but as she realized how much she liked doing it, she added her other one. Harry let out a groan as she raked her fingers through his hair and tugged at his roots. 

There was a strange feeling she was experiencing as she did it. Her brain interpreted it as some kind of comfort, like doing this was giving her a boost of serotonin. Harry’s long, curled hair was one of favorite things about this physical appearance, and being able to do whatever she wanted with it felt surreal. Neither of them were certain or aware of how long it went on, but eventually Ivy had to take a break to wipe the corners of her mouth off. Harry chuckled as she carefully slid her hands out of his hair. 

“Was.. was that too much?” She asked as she relaxed her hands on his shoulders. 

“No, that was pretty nice.” He licked his lips, flicking his eyes down to her mouth. 

She took a deep breath and slowly pushed it out. “I really like your hair.” 

“Yeah? It’s all yours to pull on, baby.” He wasn’t shocked to see her cheeks flush up and her eyes dart away from his. 

“I wish I wasn’t so scared.” Her lips pouted out. 

Harry gripped either side of her waist. “You don’t have to be, Ivy, but it’s okay to be.” 

She pushed out a huff and rested her temple against his. “Soon.. but not now.” 

It was unfortunate that Emma drove a bit faster than Ivy expected she would. When she called to say she was outside, Harry mustered up his courage to fake a smile and assure Ivy he would be fine. They shared a tight hug, swaying from side to side for a few long, drug out moments. Harry kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, then all over her face until she was giggling and trying to fight him off. It ended with a kiss to her lips, one that he wished would’ve lasted forever. Before he knew it, she went out the door with her bag and headed home. 

Niall had stepped outside to talk to Emma while she waited for Ivy, so he joined Harry in the kitchen once the girls drove off. He could tell Harry wasn’t happy and that his mood from this morning had greatly shifted. He had a straight line on his lips and no expression on his face. He was back to his usual self, who he was when he wasn’t with Ivy. Niall didn’t bother him, instead he went back to his room to give him as much space as he needed. The last thing Niall wanted to deal with tonight was Harry’s sour mood at their show. If he let him be, maybe he’ll get over it. 

“So, how was your date?” Emma grinned as she quickly glanced over at Ivy. 

“It was nice. We had a good time.” 

She hummed back, then brought up something she had been curious about. “Did you guys.. do anything after?” 

Ivy shrugged. “Just went home and talked.”

“Talked? That’s all?” Emma laughed a little. “No like.. kissing or anything?” 

There was a pinch in her stomach as she replayed the memories of her time with Harry in her mind. It didn’t last long enough and it was her fault. Sure, they’d be together in a few hours and will be able to spend another night together in his bed, but he wasn't here now. It hurt her more than she was willing to admit. She shouldn’t have let her anxiety get to her. She could still be sitting in his floor watching him play his guitar. 

“Yeah, just that. I don’t really want to talk about it right now.” 

“Did you have a fight?”

Ivy shook her head. “No.. we didn’t.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Emma about it, it was more so she was hoping to forget it all happened. Not the date or the cuddling and kissing, but the disagreement they had. No matter how good things seemed to be with him, she couldn’t shake her worry off. 

“Okay, sorry.” 

She was battling the thoughts. She knew it would do no good to bottle it up. Emma was her best friend, she knew how to help her if she needed it. Maybe she could just vent and Emma would listen without offering any advice. Ivy didn’t want advice, she just needed someone to know what was going on. She opted to stay silent. 

When she got back home, she decided it would be a good idea to take a shower and handle all of her personal business before it was time to get ready for tonight’s show. She had a few hours, Harry had reminded her of what time he’d pick her up before she left, but she wanted to make sure she got everything done with plenty of time to spare. That extra time would definitely be spent on an internal freak out. She would worry about her hair, her outfit, her makeup, her skin, every single thing. Not only that, but she’d get anxious about being around Harry. It was almost like he was still that person that hated to be around her, or pretended to hate it. She had to constantly remind herself that he wasn’t that way anymore, and neither was she. 

Her shower was incredibly relaxing. The steaming hot water washed away all of the tension she held in her body. It was like a refreshing start for the evening. She would be lying if she told someone she wasn’t thinking about Harry every second since being apart from him. She hated herself for being so stubborn, for wanting to leave him when it would’ve just been so easy to stay there. She could’ve gone downstairs and watched something or went to his bed and laid down on her phone while he practiced. There was no need to run away, yet she did. 

That horrible cycle of anxiety and worry was unstoppable. As she combed the conditioner through her hair, she reminded herself of how her fingers wrapped into Harry’s hair. She wondered what he was up to, if he was still practicing or if he even started back once she left. As she ran the razor up her legs, she thought about how Harry had gripped her through her pants, kneaded her flesh hard. She had really liked the way it felt when he touched her that way, touch her like she was all his - because she was, of course. She was all his and she wanted him to know that.. 

When she washed herself in a certain place, her mind started to drift off. She imagined how it would play out, how Harry would coax her into it, how he’d guide her to the bed and slowly start the whole process. Maybe he would be gentle with her, or perhaps he preferred it rougher? She didn’t know for sure, but she pictured him being more gentle at first, easing into it since he knew she had very little experience. Harry was very possessive with his hands. She thought about how he’d grab her and squeeze her all over. And his lips, she couldn’t ever stop thinking about kissing him. What would it be like to have his lips trail below her chin, to her neck and under her collarbones? It was an intriguing idea, would he tend to each of her breasts before kissing down her stomach? How would it feel to have his lips linger around her pelvis? 

Ivy snapped out of her trance as she realized her fingers were circling her clit. She blinked a few times, trying to bring herself back to reality. She withdrew her hand and picked up on where she left off with bathing herself. She wasn’t intending on doing that now, she had to get this shower over soon. That brought back memories of the handful of times she found herself thinking about him and slipping her hand into her panties. Most of the instances occurred before they made things official, before he even spent that time with her that night. No matter when it happened, she quite enjoyed it each time. 

Figuring out what to wear was more of a challenge than it had ever been, even more than last night when she had to choose a dress for their date. Currently, she was trying on a square cut top, the hem lined with tiny lace and a pair of light denim shorts. There was a thin cardigan she paired with it just for coverage. The straps of the top were short, they didn’t come down her arms very far at all. She wondered if her cleavage was too much. She posed in the mirror, bending forward to see if too much would show. It was definitely more than she usually put on display, but the thought of Harry actually liking it was making her lean more towards it. She had to remember she wasn’t dressing for everyone else, just for herself and Harry. If she liked it, or if he liked it, then she’d be fine. 

“Do you think a skirt would look better with this?” She turned to face Emma, who was seated on her bed with her eyes glued to Ivy. She wanted to be as much help as possible. 

“You can try one. Maybe one of those faux leather ones you have, those are always cute on you.” Emma suggested, trying to picture the combination in her hand. “Aren’t you wanting to wear heels? I think they’ll go better with a skirt.”

Ivy walked to her closet, sighing heavily as she realized Emma was right. She had been so worried about her top that she forgot about the shoes she planned on wearing. Her favorite part of any outfit was her shoes, and tonight she had picked a pair of tall, chunky black heels with skinny ankle straps and closed toes. They would make her significantly taller than her normal height, like most of her heels did. She loved the way she looked in them, and how comfortable it was walking in a thicker heel. Shoes were never something she was unsure about. 

She came back to the middle of the room with a few options in her hands. She tossed them down on her vanity chair and looked over at Emma. 

“A flared or a tight one?” 

“Try a tight one first.” Emma smirked, prepared to convince her to chose that one. 

Ivy was her best friend, and she had finally gotten herself into a relationship. She wanted Ivy to be the hottest she possibly could for Harry, especially while going out. She knew that if Ivy walked out of the house in a garbage bag Harry would still be in love with her, but she wanted her to wear something eye catching. Emma was trying her best to encourage Ivy’s sexual exploration, without actually saying anything about it, so maybe she could channel it though the clothing. If she felt confident, felt hot, and knew Harry thought she looked stunning, then maybe she’d ease up on her worry and go there with him. Emma wasn’t going to pressure her or make fun of her for not trying, but she knew she’d love it - especially with Harry - if she gave herself the chance to try. 

Ivy rolled her eyes with a smile as she caught on to Emma’s intentions. She knew Emma was going to push for her to wear the hottest items, she always did that whenever Ivy asked for advice or assistance. She picked the black skirt with a small slit on each thigh. She knew black would look the best with her shoes and her light purple shirt. An excited cheer and clap came from Emma as Ivy pulled the skirt up her legs, adjusting it on her waist. 

“It’s definitely tight.” She frowned slightly when she turned towards the mirror. 

In actuality, she looked perfectly fine. But to her, it looked like a mess. She gulped quietly and just stared at her stomach. Was it too unflattering? She felt like it was definitely drawing a lot of attention to a place she didn't want it. 

“You look great! I love it.” Emma said with a hopeful tone, wishing that Ivy would stop being so insecure. 

“Harry’s going to think I’ve gained twenty pounds since this morning.” She lowered her eyes down to her thighs. The rest of her body was fine, she didn’t have any bad thoughts about anything. It was just her stomach. “I don’t like this.” 

“Ivy, c’mon, you look beautiful.” Emma jumped up and quickly ran over to her the second Ivy started to pull down the skirt. 

Emma stopped her and fixed it back to where it was. She grabbed Ivy by her hips and rotated her back to face the mirror. Her hands gripped Ivy’s waist as she stared into the mirror. 

“You look stunning. You always look stunning.” 

Ivy shook her head. “I look fat.” 

When she pressed her hand over her stomach, Emma grabbed her wrist and pulled it back down. “Stop, you look perfectly fine.” 

“Harry’s not gonna want to have sex with me.” Her words were soft, barely audible. 

Emma felt her own heart sink as she saw the sadness coat Ivy’s features - the same ones she knew Harry adored more than anything. It was obvious to see that Ivy was no longer feeling any sort of confidence. She was starting to consider not even going tonight. Everything was going wrong. 

“Did something happen with him?” Emma kept her voice just as light, in case Ivy was close to breaking down. She didn’t want her to ruin her makeup. 

“What do you mean?” 

Emma licked her lips and stepped between the mirror and Ivy, who’s eyes were fighting back tears at this point. “Did you try.. something and he.. didn’t want to?” 

Ivy dropped her eyes to the floor. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she tried to occupy her mind by picking at her nail polish. She had just freshly painted them today after her shower, but she didn’t care. Emma thought of the worse possible answers that could come from Ivy’s mouth, and it was all making her very angry. She furrowed her brows and carefully grabbed both of Ivy’s elbows to get her attention. When her eyes lifted, Emma saw how watery they had become. She shook her head gently, silently telling her not to get upset. 

“I’ll fucking kill him myself if he said something about your body.” Emma was serious. 

Ivy frowned again. “No, it wasn’t that.”

“Ivy.” 

She didn’t believe her. Emma was sure that something must have been said to make Ivy feel this way. She had been anxious about her outfits before, but this felt different. Emma was afraid of what had happened.  

“He didn’t say anything.” Ivy defended him, because he had truly done nothing wrong. “He wanted to. I stopped him.. again.” 

“Again?” 

She looked away from Emma, too embarrassed to face her. “He wanted to.. the night he came over here. He.. he wants to, so bad, Emma.” 

“It doesn't matter if he does. You have to want to, too.” 

Ivy let out a humorous laugh that resembled more of a sigh. “I do.” 

“So what happened then? If you want to and he wants to.. then what? Are you just trying to wait a bit longer?” 

Ivy shrugged, she really didn’t know how to explain it. “It’s only been a week. I.. I would feel like a whore if I tried to do it this fast.”

Emma sighed. “That’s not what a whore is, Ivy. You aren’t going out and hooking up every night. If you want to do that with him, then you can. He’s your boyfriend.” 

Her lip was quivering but she was fighting so hard to stop it. She spent so long trying to finalize her makeup look, she didn’t want to have to do any touch ups to it. 

“When he tried.. what was he doing? Just kissing you?” Emma wasn’t asking to be nosy, unlike earlier in the day when she wanted all the details. 

Ivy nodded. “Just.. kissing and touching. We were on the couch and.. I was on his lap. It.. it was perfect. I stopped him.” 

Emma was familiar with Ivy’s small amount of experience, and she easily remembers how upset Ivy was after her first time. They didn’t know each other then, but the story had been told to her. She was extremely insecure and afraid, and the fact that it sucked from the start to the end didn’t help. Why put so much effort into doing it again if it’s just going to be a bad experience? 

“When he touched you.. did you feel bad? Like, did you feel insecure?” 

Ivy felt her heart flutter as she recalled how it made her feel. There was nothing wrong with what Harry did. She loved every second of it. There was just something inside of her that made her stop, that made her afraid. 

“No, I actually didn’t. He touched me like.. like he loved everything about me. He always does.” 

Emma smiled genuinely. “That’s because he does, Ivy.”

Ivy pulled back from her grip and walked to her vanity. She sat down, pushing aside the skirts to rest her arms. She wanted to fall apart and sob, but she knew Harry would be here in less than half an hour and she couldn’t fix her makeup that quick. She had to pull it together. 

“Listen to me.” Emma started with a gentle sigh, she stayed put. “I understand that you think it’s too soon.. and there’s nothing wrong with that. But don’t let that ruin it for you. You spent a long time trying to figure out if you liked him or not. And I know you do, so much.” 

Ivy rolled her lips in, fully aware that she’d have to reapply her lip gloss before she left. It was frustrating to feel this way. She was so close to being dressed, to being ready to go have fun. Her brain got in the way, her mind took over and spiraled again. 

“Just.. don’t be scared. Harry’s in love with you.. he’s not going to care about how you look in the skirt. You don’t have to have sex with him tonight, but don’t be so nervous to let him do things with you. And, I know you get shy, but.. talk to him. Tell him what you want, how you feel.” 

All she could do was sit there. She couldn’t come up with anything to say or even an expression to put on. Emma grabbed the pair of heels she had sat out for the night and brought them to her. She dropped them on the vanity and huffed. 

“You look sexy. Stop being so sad. Harry’s going to explode when he sees you.” 

With those encouraging words, Emma left her room to give her some space. It was difficult to gather her thoughts, but she had no other choice. She took a few slow, deep breaths while staring at the heels. If anything, she was perfectly confident in her choice of shoes. Perhaps she could use that to boost her mood and give her the confidence back. A wild thought popped in her mind. If she was so worried, she could always call Harry to get his thoughts on her outfit. Surely he’d be honest, right? Ivy groaned to herself, her own thoughts were beginning to irritate her. She didn't need his approval, or Emma’s, or anyone’s. She snatched the tube of lipgloss out of her makeup bag and applied a new layer. 

She returned in front of the mirror after slipping and securing the heels on her feet. She flipped her long, slightly curled hair over her shoulders and smiled at her reflection. Harry loved her hair - he thought it was just so pretty and soft and shiny. She looked at her lips, smirking to herself. Harry loved kissing her - god, he loved it more than anything. Her lips were so thick and soft, her tongue so warm and the taste of her mouth was like heaven. The more she looked at each part of herself, the more she thought about Harry and how much he seemed to adore everything about her. Slowly, but surely, that confidence was building back up. 

It wasn’t her first time pacing at the door waiting for Harry to show up, but it seemed to get harder with each time. Ivy was alone in the house, Emma had already left with Niall. She would be coming back here, while Ivy would return to Harry’s place after the night was over. Her duffle bag was packed with similar things that it was full of the night before. She was trying to control her breathing before she got in the car with him. The last thing she wanted was for him to ask her if she was okay. She didn’t want to relive what happened earlier in her bedroom, she just wanted to have a good night. The ding of her phone made her heart jump. She looked down at the screen, a nervous feeling sinking into her bones. 

Harry: coming to the door now 

Not even thirty seconds had passed before Harry knocked on the door. Ivy composed herself the best she could and opened the door for him. She was met with his grin, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from how handsome he looked. He wasn’t wearing his usual dark t-shirt, instead he was wearing one the shirts he never buttons all the way up and pushes the sleeves to his elbows. She smiled nervously as he looked down her body slowly, then drug his eyes back up. 

“Damn, you look incredible.” He told her with a gentle smirk, reaching for her body. 

She let him grab her and yank her closer. The feeling of his warm body against hers made her worries fade. Her hand gripped his waist on either side as he mumbled another compliment in her ear before pressing a kiss to her jaw. 

“I missed you.” He added, pulling back to look at her. 

“I missed you.” She smiled a bit bigger this time. “Sorry I left so soon.” 

He shook his head and pushed his lips onto hers. She moaned softly into the kiss, wishing it would’ve lasted longer. She barely got a taste of him before he leaned back. 

“Don’t worry about all that. I’ve got you now, hm.” 

Ivy let out a breath as she checked the time on her phone. “We should probably go.” 

“Do you have everything?” He asked, glancing down at the duffle bag that was discarded on the floor. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” 

Once she closed the door, Harry carried her bag to the car and tossed it in the back seat. He made sure to open her door and help her in, telling her yet again how good she looked. It was hard to resist her face turning to a blushing mess, his words just did that to her. 

The ride there was peaceful. She held onto his hand as he drove, his eyes staying on the road for the most part. He let her mess with the radio until she found something for them to listen to. Ivy would give him a glance every now and then, just making sure that he was okay. He didn’t appear to be in any bad mood, he was rather pleasant. She was glad, because there was that worry in the back of her mind that he was upset about what happened earlier. There was no way she was going to let something ruin her night, so she ignored all that and just gave him quick glances. 

At one point, she found herself staring at him for longer than just a moment. She admired his profile, how perfect he looked with the street lights and the moon glowing on his face. She thought he was just the most gorgeous thing ever. He didn’t have a hair out of place. His cologne filled the car - she loved it so much she’d be willing to drown in it. 

When they arrived, Harry told her he needed to get inside within a few minutes to set up everything and do a quick sound check. Ivy was willing to let him go whenever he had, but it seemed like he didn’t want to. He helped her out of the car and immediately grabbed onto her waist. He pushed her against the car, his height towering over her despite the heels she had on her feet. She pressed her hand to his chest, smiling sweetly as he stared down at her. 

“I thought you had to get inside?” She said with a soft laugh as he leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

“I can’t leave you yet.” He muttered back, playfully pecking her cheek a few times. 

“You said everyone was waiting on you.” 

He rolled his eyes and let a smirk cover his mouth. “They can wait a bit longer.” 

The softest moan slipped out of her mouth as he slotted his lips with hers. Within a second, they were swallowing each other whole. Harry’s hand fell down to her hip and he gripped her tight, pushing himself against her. There were sparks flying around them as they got lost in the kiss. Ivy was fighting her thoughts, and quickly losing because it wasn’t long until she was dizzy and mindless. The sounds of their mouths meeting and moving together always made her stomach fill with butterflies. It was so intimate, so special to hear it each time. Harry grunted when she reached up to grab onto his hair. Her fingers scraped his skin as she got a handful in the back, tugging hard. He wanted her to grab it all and do whatever she desired. It was taking every ounce of control he had to prevent himself from growing in his pants. He didn’t know it, but Ivy was creating a small damp spot in her underwear - something that happened so easily when he did certain things to her. 

Harry grunted when she finally slowed the kiss and pulled her lips away. A light gasp came from her as she realized she could breathe better now. He pecked her cheek again, sighing gently as he realized they needed to get inside soon. As much as he’d rather spend every second with her, he couldn’t do that yet. 

“M’gonna have a hard time keeping my hands off you later.” He said with a chuckle as she rubbed her hand back down his chest, stopping so she could settle it on his waist. She loved touching him there. 

“I don’t want you to keep your hands off me.” She bit down on her lip as she smiled, a redness covering her face. 

“Well, I.. I don’t want to do too much, y’know.” 

Ivy gave him a small shake of her head. “I want you to do whatever you think I’d like. I don’t.. wanna be scared anymore.” 

He licked his lips, tasting a bit of her gloss that he stole off her mouth. “As long as you’re honest with me. Tell me what you like, stop me when you don’t want it, all that, okay?” 

“I will.”

He pushed out a big exhale and gestured his head towards the building. “Guess we should go in?” 

Ivy replied with a nod, but when he took hold of her hand to walk her across the parking lot, she stopped him by grabbing his wrist and tugging on his arm. He looked back at her, not sure what she was doing. 

“Wait.” 

Harry turned back to face her, a concerned look on his face. “What is it?” 

All she could think about was the speech Emma gave her in her room earlier. There was no need to be so shy with Harry anymore. He wasn’t some stranger she didn’t like or a person who wasn’t considered her friend. He was way more than she ever imagined he would be. Harry had become her world, he had taken up every inch of space in her mind and in her heart. She could talk to him if something was on her mind, he’d listen with no hesitation. 

“Do you think I look alright?” She blurted the question out before ensuring herself she wanted to say it. 

He furrowed his brows and squeezed her tight. “You’re gorgeous.” 

She swallowed loud enough for him to hear. “Do.. do you like my outfit?” 

Harry moved one hand up to her face, cupping her jaw to keep her head steady. “Your outfit is perfect. I love it. You look incredible, as always.” 

“Okay.” She nodded lightly, not sure if she believed it or not. Maybe he was telling her the truth, but she didn’t agree with it. “I.. I was worried you wouldn’t.” 

Harry frowned. “Baby, why wouldn’t I?” 

“I dunno.” She uttered back. 

He planted a kiss on the center of her forehead, pushing her bangs into her skin. “Don’t ever worry about something like that, alright? I don’t want you to think that ever again.” 

Hearing that was a relief. A weight lifted from her shoulders. His calm, low tone was comforting to her worried nerves. It was no lie, he would never think bad of anything she decided to wear. Ivy felt better now, and she hoped her happy feeling carried on throughout the night. 

The taste of the alcohol slipping down her throat made her hum. Her eyes closed as she savored the sweet pineapple flavor accompanied by the burn of the liquor. Emma was standing next to her, talking about her recent date with Niall, as they waited for the show to start. Ivy was doing her best to listen, but she was spiraling in her own mind. For once, it wasn't anything bad or frustrating on her mind. Instead, it was all good things. She was thinking about the kiss they shared in the parking lot and how she’d get to see Harry on the stage soon. She thought about the promise they made, that alone was making all the good chemicals ramp up and rush through her body. The feeling of his hands on her body would return soon, and she was beyond ready. 

“I see you’re feeling better.” Emma said with a lift of her brow as Ivy opened her eyes. 

“Yeah, me and Harry talked.” She nodded, glancing down at the ice swirling in her plastic cup. “He likes what I’m wearing.” 

Emma dramatically sighed and threw her hand up. “Of course he does! You’re hot!” 

Ivy rolled her eyes and smiled. “Whatever you say.” 

“Whatever Harry says.” She grinned back, teasing Ivy was kind of fun but she’d never mean it in a bad way. 

“I told him I.. I want him to touch me more, like, um, he did last night.” 

Emma sipped her drink then put on a proud smile. “You’re being brave. I’m proud.” 

“I just want him to.. to do what he thinks I might like. Maybe that way it’ll be easier for me to realize or decide when I’m ready.” 

Emma nodded as she listened, completely agreeing with what Ivy was saying. She was rather glad that Ivy had come around to this idea. She knew that her lack of experience was hard to handle, but if Ivy would let herself open up, she might enjoy what could come from it. 

“So you don’t think you’re ready right now?” 

Ivy let out a sigh as she thought about that. She wasn't really sure because she had no idea what to expect. How can you know if you're ready? Do you just have some sort of feeling or little voice in your head screaming that it was time? How do you figure out that sort of thing if you’ve only had one bad experience? 

“I don’t know. What am I supposed to feel? How can I tell?” 

Emma swallowed the rest of her drink and took a deep breath, prepared to help Ivy out as much as she could. “Well, for me with Niall.. it was like I was comfortable and relaxed. I knew I wanted to share that with him. The best way I can put it is.. my body told me.” 

“See, I don’t understand that. I keep getting these feelings but then I get scared.” 

“What feelings?” 

She knew she could only tell Emma this and not Harry. She was open to talking about things with Harry, but this specific thing was not going to be one of them. It was very embarrassing for her to admit to herself, let alone say out loud to him. She was intending on keeping this between her and Emma only. 

“I get.. y’know.. wet, or whatever.” She shrugged, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible. 

Emma smirked, cocking a brow at her. “Wet? So.. just when he touches you or what?” 

“Even when he just gives me a quick kiss. I.. My stomach drops and.. I have this burning feeling.” 

“Hate to say it to you, girl, but.. I think your body is trying to tell you that it’s time.” Emma was being honest. 

“It’s only been a week!” 

“But you’ve known him for a while.” Emma reminded her, making her eyes widen as she emphasized it. “You’ve been wanting him. Admit it to yourself.” 

Ivy’s eyes rolled, a gentle shake of her head followed. “It’s too soon.” 

“Then relax! Just kiss the boy and have fun with him until you’re ready.” Emma gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Trust me, he’s too obsessed with you to go anywhere. You have plenty of time.” 

Maybe Emma was right and Ivy was just overthinking everything. Harry definitely had a possessive nature when it came to her. He wasn't going to just let her slip away or disappear himself. She had time.. 

Experiencing the show was much different for her tonight than it ever had been. She wasn’t a newcomer to the group, she wasn’t trying to avoid Harry’s stare, and she wasn't angry with his existence. Tonight, she was able to enjoy herself fully. She sang and danced with Emma like the world wouldn’t be there tomorrow when she woke up. Harry watched her for most of the show, smiling and shaking his head at her performance. She was confident and comfortable and definitely drunk. 

He had to remind himself to stay focused when he played his guitar, though, so he made sure he looked out at the crowd, too. Niall reminded him before they got on the stage to remain focused on his job and then he could give Ivy all his attention after. Since he knew she loved the shows and was excited to hear him perform, he agreed with Niall and kept himself on track with everything. Ivy was dancing like nobody else was in the room, and that alone was motivation for him to put on a good show. She wasn't dancing to music coming from the speakers, she was dancing to his voice singing the songs she loves. It meant something to him, it was special this time. 

When they reached the slower portion of the show, Harry used his minute long break to chug some water before kneeling on the edge of the stage to talk to her. It was still loud in the bar, but he was able to hear her. 

“You’re so good!” She grinned ear to ear, her voice loud as the alcohol increased her mood. 

“Gonna sing one for you next.” He winked, causing a blush to rise to her cheeks. 

“Can I give you a good luck kiss?” She asked sweetly, fluttering her thick lashes at him and making the cutest face. 

“I’d be sad if you didn’t.” He leaned down, chuckling as she reached up to grab his neck. 

She barely reached him, but when she did her lips connected to his. He wanted to pull her on the stage and handle it, but he couldn’t. The kiss was short, but sweet. She smacked her lips on his chin for an extra bit of luck before letting him go, knowing he had to get back to his microphone. 

Harry was sure he’d never been in such a great mood while performing before. He had something to really look forward to after like everyone else, aside from just wanting to drink the night away. He had someone waiting for him to get off that stage and join her.

Niall started the first of the slower songs by picking up his guitar. Harry had abandoned his for this portion of the show, not wanting to get distracted by Ivy. He knew he could sing perfectly fine while looking at her, but playing the guitar was another story. Her heart swelled as she heard the lyrics coming from Harry’s mouth. She loved this song so much, and he had promised her he’d sing it the next time she was there. She will always hold some regret in her heart for missing that show, but she had a feeling that things wouldn’t be the way they are now if she hadn’t missed it. 

“Lips of an Angel” was one of her favorite songs, she considered it a classic that everyone should know. She’d play it in her room or in the car and sing every word. Hearing Harry sing it was breathtaking. He made all of her favorite songs even more special than they already were. And of course, his eyes were pouring straight into hers as he sang. There was nothing quite like getting his intense stare in such a meaningful moment. 

For the remainder of the show, Ivy cheered him on and continued to dance with Emma. They were both worn out by the time it came to an end. Emma told Ivy that everyone would be out to join them within a few minutes, and the best place to wait for Harry would be at their usual reserved table. So, they headed that way once everyone walked off the stage. She pushed the beaded curtain out of the way and sighed as she entered the familiar section of the building. They went straight to their table and each claimed a spot. Emma sat next to her, instantly sparking up a conversation. 

“Harry’s so cute with you. I saw you guys kissing.” She giggled excitedly, her mind a little boggled from her drinks. 

Ivy couldn’t do anything but grin. “He’s so sweet. He’s the sweetest thing ever.”

They shared a laugh, both very giddy about the topic. Emma leaned in closer, her finger moving to lure Ivy in. She moved further in until their heads almost touched. 

“He’s gon’ be all over you.” She said with a cheeky laugh. 

“I hope so!” Ivy was just as happy about the idea. 

“Can’t believe you turned Harry into a sweetheart!”

Ivy let out a laugh and shook her head. She didn’t say anything though because she was easily distracted by Harry, who appeared from the crowd with a smile on his handsome face. She completely ignored Emma and stood up to greet him. He grunted as her arms wrapped around his neck, one set of fingers going to the back of his head. He snaked his arms around her body, so glad to finally be with her again. This time, he wouldn’t have to leave her. They could stay together the rest of the night. 

“Missed you.” Ivy said in a quiet voice as her arms slowly fell from his neck. She drug one down his chest, touching his exposed skin. “You did so good.”

“Thanks, love. You had a good time, didn’t you?” Harry chuckled as she looked up at him with red eyes and a sleepy look. “Someone’s a bit drunk, yeah?” 

She shook her head. “No, not yet.”

“M’not too sure about that, babe.”

“Sit down with me! Wanna be close.” She begged with the pout of her lip. 

He nodded, which immediately prompted her to sit down and pull on his hand, wanting him right next to her. He laughed as she manueved his arm around her shoulders and positioned him so his hand was dangling over her. She took hold of it and turned her head to see him. She had the most precious look on her face, stars in her pretty eyes, 

“Thank you for singing the song for me.” 

“You’re welcome, babe.”

“Baby.” She corrected him with the lift of her brows. 

He smirked back, leaning forward to kiss her temple. “M’sorry, baby.” 

“So, I heard it’s official!” Michelle yelled with joy as she approached the table. 

Ivy leaned into Harry’s shoulder, hiding her bashful face as he laughed and replied to Michelle. He knew that having this kind of attention would make Ivy feel shy, but he hoped she would be okay with it once everyone got their initial reactions out. She tapped his hand, trying to get his attention. 

He looked back at her. “Hmm?”

“Just wanna see you.” She bit down on her lip, her eyes fixated on him.

He furrowed his brows gently. “Everything okay?”

Ivy didn’t say anything, just nodded and smiled. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he assumed the alcohol had a lot to do with it. He told her earlier she could drink as much as she wanted and he’d drive them home. He didn’t feel the need to get drunk tonight. She was with him now, so there were no feelings to fight against. 

Unlike previous times, Cory and Niall were the ones to bring the free trays of beer gifted by the owner to their shared table. Ivy instantly received a look from Michelle, a smirk plastered over her red painted lips as she lifted a brow. Ivy shook her head, already knowing what she was going to say. Harry laughed as everyone started to chant Ivy’s name, expecting at least one chugging battle. She was trying to ignore them, but even Harry was encouraging it.

“Just do one, c’mon.” He said with a laugh, finding it hard to believe all of this was real. 

For once, there was no awkward tension amongst the group. He wasn’t trying to sneak glances at her or avoid her gaze. Nobody was expecting an outburst from him. It felt really good to not have to worry about any of that anymore.

“Okay, fine, just one.” She sighed as she took the cup of beer from Niall, who started the countdown. 

Michelle was quick to bring the cup to her lips, but she wasn’t quite fast enough to keep up with or outdo Ivy. It didn’t take long for her to finish. The empty cup fell to the table and a proud smile covered her lips. Niall offered her another cup, and she took it with hopes of actually enjoying this one. 

Harry eyed her, wondering if she’d accept anyone’s competition, but she shook her head at Zayn who was trying to get her to cave in again. When Ivy leaned up to talk to Emma, Harry’s arm fell to her back, his hand sliding to her waist. He kept a hold on her, not wanting her to get too far. He stayed quiet, which was somewhat part of his usual behavior, and just listened to her talk. They were talking about something Niall said to Emma the night before that made Ivy blush. Emma had always been open with her about certain things, and even though it embarrassed her, she always listened to the stories. Harry wasn’t necessarily listening to them, mainly because he couldn’t hear over the music, but his focus was starting to shift elsewhere. 

Across the table was Cory, and his eyes seemed to be placed on something that didn’t belong to him. If Harry couldn’t hear the girls clearly, there’s no way Cory could. So he wasn’t listening to them talk, he was just staring at Ivy. Harry slid his tongue over his teeth as he tried to relax himself. He could feel a fire lighting in his gut. He couldn’t stand when Cory looked at Ivy like that before they were together, and now that they were he was even more annoyed. There should be some respect shown now. It was obvious they were together, and it should be understood that Cory had no chance. He tightened his hand on her waist, his fingers digging into her body. She noticed how the pressure changed, but she didn’t check on him. Maybe he was just giving her some affection. 

“I told him I’d try.” Emma said with a squeal, shooting her eyes over at Niall who was standing up talking to Zayn.

Ivy grinned back, grabbing her leg to squeeze it excitedly. “You’re insane.”

“It’s just a position, Ivy. You’d probably like it.”

Her eyes widened and she gave Emma a stern look. “No! We’re not making this about me.”

Emma giggled, covering Ivy’s hand with her own. “You have no idea what’s coming for you, honey.”

“I know what I’m not going to do.”

Emma was amused by the redness covering her face, it wasn’t just the alcohol that had her flustered. Her eyes dropped to Ivy’s waist where Harry’s hand was glued to her body. 

“The way he touches you.. you’re gonna have the time of your life.” 

Ivy shoved her gently, bringing her hand back to her own lap. “Shh, I don’t want him to hear this.”

Emma leaned slightly to peek around her. She lifted a brow as she saw Harry’s hardened expression. While his touch was clearly on Ivy, his attention was not. He looked as if he would rip someone’s head off if they spoke to him. His jaw was clenched and his brows were low. Emma followed his eyes and instantly saw what he was staring at. 

She hit Ivy with her knee, her eyes shooting back to her. “He’s pissed.”

Ivy leaned in closer to hear her whisper. “What?”

“Harry’s not happy.” Emma gave her a slightly concerned look. “Someone’s got his eyes on you and it’s not Harry.” 

Ivy looked from the corner of her eye, even though she already knew who Emma was referring to. “Ugh, why?”

Emma shook her head and pursed her lips. “He’s stupid if he thinks nobody notices.”

“He always does this.” Ivy sighed out, wishing it was different. 

She didn’t want Harry to get upset with his friend, but she knew it would happen if Cory didn’t stop. He shouldn’t want to stare at her, especially now that things have changed between her and Harry. It didn’t make any sense. She’s expressed several times that she’s not interested and that definitely hasn’t suddenly changed. 

“We’ll finish this later.. you better tend to Harry.” Emma warned, nodding her head towards him. 

It was unfortunate that she had to pause her conversation to deal with this, but she had no choice. If she didn’t intervene now, there’s no telling what could happen. Harry’s emotions are very sensitive, and when it came to Ivy he could be a ticking time bomb. Ivy shifted so she was facing him now, fully surprised when he didn’t immediately look at her. She placed her hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze, still not getting his attention. 

“Harry.” She said his name in a sweet tone, widening her eyes and putting on a soft expression. That didn’t work. 

She sighed, tired of her failed attempts already. She reached up and grabbed his jaw, angling his head towards her. He didn’t stop her, of course. He wasn’t going to ignore her for too long. When his eyes met hers, she gave him a smile. She expected his hard features to soften, but they didn’t. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked with a pout, pretending to not be aware of the issue.

“M’about to go off.” 

Ivy leaned up so she was blocking Cory from his view. “It’s okay.”

“It’s fucking not.” 

She chewed on her cheek as she looked over his expression. He was still clenching his jaw and furrowing his brows. His eyes were full of anger but she knew it wasn’t directed towards her. She wanted to sweeten him up, wanted to make him chuckle and grin. It didn’t seem like he was willing to do that now. 

“Are you mad?”

“What do you think?” He snapped back, his anger getting the best of him.

Ivy gulped softly, her hand falling to his chest. “I think.. you’re being mean to me for no reason.”

“There is a fucking reason.” Once again, he was quick with his remark. 

“I didn’t do anything.” She couldn’t stop her lips from dropping to a frown.

The moment he saw her do that, he felt a blow to his gut. He closed his eyes and tried to compose himself. His hand loosened on her waist as he moved it to the small of her back. She wasn’t sure what to expect, part of her was extremely nervous. As his eyes opened, she was somewhat relieved to see he wasn’t as angry looking. 

“I know you didn’t, m’sorry.” 

Ivy grabbed his other hand and guided it to her thigh, letting him decide where it should go. He moved it to her hip and smirked as he pulled her closer. 

“Don’t be shy.” He said with a laugh as she looked down at his lap. 

“If we were alone, I would.” 

Harry leaned into her, his lips heading straight for hers. She turned her head in time for him to hit her cheek, making him smirk against her skin. 

“You’re being a tease, hm?”

She put her hand on his elbow, wishing she could do more but the fact they were in public made her nervous. She didn’t say anything, just moved her lips to his dimple. He felt the slickness of her lipgloss on his skin. 

“We could always sneak away.” He suggested, smiling as she pinched his skin. 

“Harry.” A nervous breath followed. 

Before he could say anything else, Michelle tapped on Ivy’s shoulder and interrupted them. Ivy pulled back from Harry to look up at her, kind of irritated that she was getting in the way. 

“We’re going to dance. Are you guys joining us?” 

Ivy saw everyone getting up and heading towards the crowd. She looked back at Harry and he lifted his brows lightly, silently letting her know it was her decision to make. She gently shook her head before replying to Michelle. 

“Not right now.”

Michelle smirked, giving them both a suspicious look. “Alright, have fun.”

It was a relief to know they were going elsewhere. Ivy didn’t have an issue with everyone but she was glad to be alone with Harry, or so she thought she was alone. She realized quickly when everyone else filed away that someone stayed behind. Cory was still in his seat, his eyes on his phone. Harry noticed, too, and rolled his eyes. Ivy caught his look and gently sighed. 

“It’s okay.”

“He’s fucking obsessed with you.” Harry grumbled out, his eyes narrowing and his lips fell to a straight line. 

It hurt her to see how quick his mood could shift. It wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed it, but it was still hard to deal with. She didn’t want Harry to be so consumed by anger or frustration. They were supposed to have fun tonight and be together, not worry about someone else. 

“Hey, don’t get mad.” 

“It’s hard not to, Ivy.” He huffed back.

“Don’t look at him. Just look at me.” 

Harry grunted, the control he had on his mood wasn’t very stable. “If he starts staring at you again m’gonna break his face.”

Ivy took hold of his jaw again and gave him a serious look. “No, you aren’t.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips before reaching down to pick up the cup of beer she sat on the floor. Harry let her move away, but not because he wanted her to. She brought the cup to her lips and took a long drink. Harry shot his eyes in Cory’s direction, making sure he wasn’t watching. Ivy moved back to where she had been sitting, Harry’s arm wrapped around her waist to keep her next to him. 

“Next weekend, I want you to stay with me at my place.” She said with a smile, the idea had been in her mind all day. 

“Alright. Any plans for us?” 

“Not sure yet. Just wanna be with you.” 

Harry couldn’t stop his gaze from moving back to Cory, and this time he was staring back. He leaned into Ivy, his hand tight on her waist. She held back a giggle when he rubbed his nose against her temple. 

“I really need you closer, baby.” He tickled his fingers against her waist, making her laugh and fall into him. 

“Do you want me to sit?” She asked innocently, her hand tapping his thigh. 

“If you want to, yeah. I’d like that.” 

“I’m sure you would.” 

Harry gripped her waist before she started to climb on his lap. He made sure to grab the outside of her thigh to keep her legs together. She rested the side of her body against his chest, laughing as he started kissing her cheek over and over. Ivy adjusted her skirt and made sure her knees were touching, in case someone tried to catch a peek between her legs. She feared Harry would be uncontrollable if something like that happened. 

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, furrowing his brows as he watched her. 

“Mhm, I’m okay. Are you? Not squishing you, am I?” Ivy was way more concerned with his comfort than her own. 

“M’fine, babe.” He assured her with a soft peck to her jaw. 

“Not the best way, but it’ll do for now.” She said, glancing at her legs as they laid propped up on the bench. 

“Sit how you want.” 

“I.. I can’t.”

Harry licked his lips. “How do you wanna sit?”

Ivy took a deep breath and leaned into him, her mouth next to his ear. He tightened his grip on her body, not sure what to expect from her. She was just as easy to get heated as he was. 

“Like we did on your couch.” Her whisper made his skin crawl in the best way possible. 

“We can do that.”

“Not here.”

He smiled, pushing his face into her neck. “Said who?”

Ivy tried her best to stand her ground, but Harry’s touch on her body was more than enough to change her mind. His heavy hand moved to the dip in her back, almost touching her butt. The way that his warmth pushed through the fabric covering her body was comforting. She felt completely safe with him, like nothing could ruin this moment. With a shake of her head and a blushing grin, she decided to sit on him the way she actually wanted to. He guided her by her waist as she got up, not letting her get too far away. She threw one leg over him then the next, sitting on his lap like she did on the couch. 

“There we go, that’s better.” He said with a devious smirk as she got comfortable, pulling at her skirt to keep it down. 

He plastered his hands on her hips, securing the fabric of the skirt against her skin, it wasn’t going anywhere as long as he was holding it. Ivy emptied the cup of beer into her mouth, her head falling back as she filled her mouth. Harry nearly busted as he saw her neck stretch, her hair fall over her shoulders, and the small drops of beer that escaped her lips. When she tossed the cup next to them, he leaned up to clean up her mess. 

“Harry!” She shrieked as he swiped his tongue up her chin, clearing the beer residue from her face. 

“Just cleaning you up, babe.” He chuckled out, unable to resist a grin as she hid her face against his. 

Her cheek was hot as it burned into his skin. “You’re so crazy.” 

Ivy put her arm around his neck, her fingers instantly locking around his hair. He held her close, humming in her ear as she took slow, deep breaths. He wondered if she was starting to get tired. Maybe all the alcohol she had consumed while he was singing had caught up to her. She was quiet for a few long minutes, just stayed like that with his arms around her and her hand in his hair. It was perfect, for a while. Harry figured it couldn’t get much better than this. He had the girl he adored sitting on his lap, her body molding into his as he held her close. She was content, nothing was bothering her. It was almost like a dream. He was afraid one wrong move would interrupt it and he’d wake up. Ivy couldn’t really believe it was real either, it was quite hard to comprehend. She never pictured herself as the type of person to do this much display of affection in public, yet here she was doing it. When she was with Harry, it was like the rest of the world froze around them and they were the only two people. 

Harry thought he was imagining it at first, but Ivy started to gently press her lips into the side of his neck, just below his ear. He moved one hand up to the small of her back and gently slid a few of his fingers under her shirt. Her skin was on fire, yet it felt like heaven touching it bare. 

“Being sweet, hm?” He said in a deep voice, his breath rolling over her in a rather tempting way. 

She led her lips a bit lower, leaving behind a trail of lip gloss. Marking her territory felt incredibly powerful. The part she liked the most was the fact Harry was letting her do it. When she was around, and only when it came to her, he let his control go. He let her do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. 

“Can we kiss?” She lifted her head, her eyelashes fluttering as she gave him a sweet look. 

“Don’t have to ask me.” He told her, leaning into her mouth. 

As they started to kiss again, she was sure that nothing could ruin this. Harry’s tongue poked in her mouth to explore, and his lips moved in perfect sync with hers. Her fingers danced on his neck, curling around his nape and dropping to his collarbones every now and then. She wanted to touch every inch of him that she could, but she was keeping herself somewhat tame. With each shove of her tongue into his mouth, her body rocked on his lap. The movement and the friction was getting intense on his crotch, so much so that he considered stopping her for a while. All he could imagine was her getting upset, so he chose to ignore his growing bulge and just let the girl get all the kissing she wanted. 

Harry quite enjoyed it when Ivy went off the deep end with him. Her version of it was different than most people’s, but that didn’t matter. He loved when she was greedy with her hands, scratching and clawing at his skin. There was her newly explored liking of running her fingers through his long hair and tugging on it that sent chills down his spine and pulses of pleasure straight to his crotch. And her lips, god her lips were his favorite thing. She was so good with them, knew exactly how to use them. The more he thought about her and the kiss deepened, the closer he was to a full boner growing in his pants. 

“Mm, Ivy.” He grunted as his lips ripped from hers.

“No, more.” She muttered into his cheek, trying to get his lips back. 

“Give me a few minutes, baby.” He said with a nervous laugh, glancing down at his crotch. 

She followed his eyes without thinking, and as she saw what he was concerned about, her stomach started to churn. Did he want her to move? Was she hurting him? There were so many things flooding her mind all of a sudden, but Harry didn’t say anything about it. He put his hand on her jaw, his thumb rubbing soft circles into her cheek. She easily leaned into his touch, admiring how his big hand was capable of such a delicate touch. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled, her pretty eyes held such an innocent look. 

“Don’t be sorry.” He licked his lips. “Just need a minute to calm down ‘fore I explode.” 

Ivy took the time he needed to observe him. She looked down at his forearm, his tattoos deep into tanned skin. Her mind began to drift as she imagined what it would feel like to have that same skin pressed against her own, no clothing between them. She could very clearly picture herself kissing and sucking marks over his tattoos, tracing the lines with her tongue and biting into his flesh. She knew he’d let her do whatever she wanted, and that was starting to become a thought she wanted to make a reality. She didn’t realize her eyes had closed until his thumb was toying with the corner of her mouth. She softly pushed out a breath, lifting her eyelids to get a look at him. Harry gave her that signature smirk, that up to no good look that made her panties dampen. 

The way he looked at her was like nothing else she had ever experienced. Her hand grabbed his forearm and she slowly brought her touch up his arm. He watched her movements, always liking when she touched him like that. She would hold on to him like she owned him, and that was something that made his heart melt. This girl had his heart in a way no other ever could. 

As her fingers curled around his wrist, she shifted her sultry gaze back to him. She smiled, the blush pretty much permanent on her cheeks by now. Harry was curious about her intentions as she grabbed his thumb with her fingers, moving it across her skin until the tip sat on her bottom lip. The thoughts entering his mind were far from pure. He held his breath, his eyes locked with hers. Without saying a word, or even blinking, Ivy pushed the tip of his thumb past her lips. 

A jolt of excitement shot through his body as she closed her lips around his thumb and gave it a soft suck. If he thought any harder about this, he would bust in his pants. Her tongue swirled around his digit a few slow, taunting times. Harry couldn’t do anything other than stare at her with lust pooling in his eyes. She placed his thumb between her teeth and bit down slightly, making his subtle smirk grow. 

“Naughty little kitten, hm?” The low tone of his voice mixed with the words he used made her tingle in all the right places. `

He swore her eyes lit up with stars at the use of the new name. She seemed to enjoy it more than he expected. He was pushing her limits, trying to see what she would like or what was too much. That was something she liked. 

Harry sat up, his body closer to hers without disturbing her position. He closed the space they shared, his lips next to her ear as he spoke in low, deep whispers. Every word he let out made her toes curl and the wetness between her legs grew. 

“Y’like using that pretty mouth on me, yeah?” 

She bit down harder on his thumb as a response, pulling a heavy chuckle from his throat. Ivy couldn’t stop thinking about his body, about sharing that experience with him. She was sure that if they had been at home doing this, she would’ve caved in to him. She would’ve allowed him to explore her body and show her things she never knew she could experience. But they weren’t at home.. 

“Like poking your tongue out on me.. biting down on me.” 

She nodded lightly, not even sure if he could tell. He was deep in the side of her neck, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her scent. He could die in this very spot and be a happy man. 

“Gonna be so good with your mouth, I just know it.” That time, her stomach dropped and she felt a familiar feeling come over her. 

It happened when she was in the shower earlier, that intense desire to touch herself at the thought of him. Well, now it wasn’t so much the thought of him as it was actually him. She considered disappearing into the bathroom to handle it, pull her skirt up and just rub herself until she came. But the thought of leaving him, of stopping this very moment was enough to keep her still. She could deal with it later. 

“Tell me something, baby.” He put his lips on her ear, speaking as soft as he could. “Tell me what you wanna do with your mouth.” 

Ivy let a nervous breath escape her mouth, the warmth of the air coated his thumb. “Harry.” 

He lightly chuckled back. “Don’t be shy, angel.” 

She shifted his thumb to the inside of her cheek so she could talk. Her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to gather the courage to say what he wanted her to, to admit what she desired to do with him. When her eyes opened, she was met with the wall behind them. The strobing lights from the ceiling and the colorful flashes reflected off the wall reminded her of where they were. 

“Hm? I know you wanna tell me.” He added, kissing the shell of her ear. 

“Wanna.. wanna kiss you all over.” She started with a nervous laugh, keeping his thumb pressed into her cheek. “And.. and make little bites.” 

“Little bites.” He copied her. “Sink those pretty teeth in me, baby.” 

“Harry, I..” 

She could feel his smirk against her skin. “What is it, baby?” 

Ivy had a pounding thought in her mind. She wanted to tell him how she felt, she wanted him to know how wet she had become between her legs and how hard her nipples were behind her bra. She wanted to tell him she would invite him in to explore her body if he asked her. Was she having that feeling Emma tried to describe? It couldn’t possibly be that, it was too soon.. She pushed the thoughts away and decided to just give his thumb another bite, making him smile. 

“Torturing you, aren’t I?” He said as he finally leaned himself up, his eyes meeting hers to find they were wide and as sparkly as ever. 

“A bit.” She nodded, an anxious laugh following her words. 

“I’ll give you a break.. before you explode.” 

She pulled his thumb out of her mouth. “M’close to it, I think.” 

“You don’t have to stop doing that.” He said, tapping his damp thumb against her chin. 

“For right now.. maybe I can do it again later, if you want me to.” 

He shook his head in disbelief at how adorable and innocent she was, despite what she was just doing and saying to him. “You know I want you to.” 

Ivy grabbed his wrist and placed his hand back on her waist. She loved how it felt to have him hold her there, so she wanted it back. He immediately tightened his grip and gave her a subtle smirk. He had to go easy on her before she really did lose her control and mess up her panties. He wasn’t aware of how intense it was for her, but he could see she wasn’t alright. 

They stayed quiet for a little bit, just looking at each other with hungry eyes. Harry was refraining himself from doing too much while Ivy was trying to encourage herself to do more. Maybe if she chewed on his thumb when they got home he’d say more filthy things to her. She kind of liked the dirty statements and teasing words he said. It turned her on more than she ever thought it could. Perhaps that’s why people have sex so easily - they get turned on and fall deep into the lust. It was possible, and she was starting to think she could achieve that special feeling Emma talked about. 

Harry watched her with a soft smile on his lips as she occupied herself with messing with his necklace. She had pulled the pendant out of his shirt and started rubbing her finger over it. She was engrossed in the moment, letting the way it glimmered in the lights distract her from everything else. It was peaceful, until something caught Harry’s attention. He could feel a stare coming towards him, and he just knew who it was coming from. Ivy wasn't paying him any attention, so he looked past her shoulder and snarled as he saw Cory’s eyes peering their way. It was no secret that he was focused on Ivy. It made Harry’s chest turn to stone, anger began to boil in his gut. He sat up, securing his grip on Ivy so she wouldn’t fall backwards. She instinctively grabbed his shoulder to catch herself, even though he had her stable. 

“Get your fucking eyes off her.” Harry raised his voice so it would be clearly heard over the distance they shared. 

Ivy snapped her head around, huffing as she saw Cory give Harry an annoyed look back. She was about to interrupt when Cory decided to take a stab back at him. 

“Get a fucking room.” He gave him a disgusted expression that just irritated Harry even more. “Practically screwing her.” 

“Don’t fucking worry about what I do with my girl. Fuck off.” He got louder, and of course it made her anxiety shoot through the roof. 

Ivy grabbed his face gently, keeping her touch soft to remind him that she was right here. “Harry, shh.” 

He was stronger than her, and he easily moved his head in her weak grip. “If I catch you staring at her again, I’ll beat your fucking face in.” 

“No, you won’t, stop.” Ivy let out a soft whine as she tried to tame him. 

It was a harder task than anything else. Harry was angry now, and he was beyond controllable. He had this raging look in his eyes that scared her. Not long ago, she would’ve backed away in fear of him hurting her. But now, as she sat on his lap with his hands stuck to her body, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. 

To their surprise, Cory got up and left the table. Harry didn’t give a damn about his feelings. He shouldn’t have been staring at Ivy that way, like he was jealous or like he wanted her to himself. Over Harry’s dead body would that ever happen. Ivy pressed a soft kiss to his lips, hoping that would help but he was still pouting as the anger lingered on his face. 

“You don’t have to get so upset, Harry. M’not worried about him.” She told him, kissing him again despite not getting anything in return. That really wasn’t her point anyway, she just wanted to give him some affection to calm him down. “He does it because he knows it bothers you.” 

“It bothers me a fucking lot.” 

She bit down on her cheek for a moment as she looked at him. His eyes were back on hers, and the longer she stared at him, the softer his gaze became. He wanted to apologize to her for being so reactive, but he couldn’t find the words. It was embarrassing for him to see how quick he could get angry. He has always been very aware of it, but now that Ivy was more involved in his life, it made him feel worse. They had been having such a nice, private time together. He let someone barge in and ruin it, even if Cory never actually got in the way. 

“What can I do to help? Kisses?” She asked seriously, furrowing her brows as her hand pressed into his chest. He was breathing very hard, like he was going to blow up. “Wanna make you feel better.” 

At first, he was just going to accept the offer of kissing, but as he sat there and looked at her gorgeous face, he couldn't stop thinking about her mouth. Having her bite on his thumb made him completely forget about everything else. It was like that was her magic cure for him. Perhaps it could be that.. He hesitated at first, but as she batted her lashes and rolled her lips out to silently beg him for a reply, he became putty in her hands. 

“Take my thumb.” He pressed his digit against her lip, smirking as she parted her mouth for him. He slipped it in and sucked in a breath as she closed her lips around him. “There you go, kitten.” 

The rest of the night was enjoyable for them. They weren’t alone very long after Cory made an exit. Everyone returned to take a break and have some drinks. Ivy had another beer, but Harry declined the alcohol. He had to be sober to drive her home. He opted to just watch her chug the beer in competition with Emma. It was amusing, just like all the other times. 

Ivy did end up slipping away to go dance with Emma and Michelle, while Harry stayed behind to give her some space. He wasn’t irritated at all, he actually encouraged her to go have some fun. Niall had asked him about Cory, and he explained what happened. Niall was surprised that it didn’t get any worse than it did, but he knew Ivy had a lot to do with that. When she got done dancing, they sat around the table for a while longer before finally calling it a night. Ivy ended up having two more drinks while she was dancing, so she was stumbling around as Harry took her to the car. He held onto her waist, trying to keep her upright. She was giggling, the feeling of his fingers was tickling her. Usually she wasn’t so sensitive there, but right now she was being silly. 

It took a bit of coercing to get her in the car. She didn’t want to do anything other than wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him in the parking lot, but he promised her they could save that for when they got home. She was whiny at first, claiming that he was being mean to her, but he knew she didn’t mean it. She was just being difficult. Eventually, he got her in the car and buckled her in.

When they got back to his place, he had to help her inside. She was a giggling mess, trying to grab him and kiss him before he could get her to the door. He knew she’d crash out as soon as she landed on the bed. He stayed behind her as she went up the stairs, in case she tripped or lost her balance and went tumbling backwards. He pushed his hand on her back, encouraging her to go up. As they got to the top, she practically ran into his bedroom, rambling about wanting to take her shoes off and lay down. 

Harry followed her, laughing as he watched her plop down on the end of his bed and start messing with her shoes. She was struggling to get the ankle straps undone. After a short time of trying, she became frustrated. Ivy let out a groan and looked Harry’s way. 

“Please, help me.” She said softly, her lips in a pout. 

He shut the door behind him before walking over to her. She was waiting patiently for him. Harry got on his knees in front of her, lifting one foot at a time to unbuckle the straps. Ivy chewed on her bottom lip as she watched him. She was rather ticklish on her feet, so as he pulled the shoe off, his skin brushed hers and she giggled. He glanced up at her, once again amused by her behavior. She was cute, even when she was drunk. 

“Thank you.” She said sweetly as he took off the other one. 

He sat them up side by side, coming to his feet as she hopped up. Ivy didn’t even realize he had carried her bag up when she started digging through it. He figured she wanted to change her clothes, so he told her he’d step out and go to the bathroom before he joined her in the bed. 

Harry didn’t take too long in the bathroom. He got rid of his shirt in there, but kept his pants on until he got back to his room. He found Ivy in the bed, her eyes already closed as she yawned. She was beneath his covers, waiting for him to get next to her. She wasn’t paying him any mind, so he quickly got rid of his pants and chose a pair of gym shorts. 

Ivy hummed in satisfaction as he finally laid next to her, his warm body lighting a fire she was ready to get cozy with. He grabbed her, pulling her into him like he knew she liked. 

“Goodnight.” He muttered out as he pressed a kiss to her lips. 

She returned it, but ultimately wanted more. She grunted, slipping her tongue between his lips. He let her do what she wanted for a few long moments, then pulled back to tell her to go to sleep. She furrowed her brows and gave him a funny look. 

“Mm, kiss me more.” 

He let a light smile coat his lips. “You’re sleepy, angel.”

“Want kisses, please.” She begged in the sweetest tone she’d ever used on him. He melted quickly for her. 

“Okay, sweet girl.” He leaned forward to give her another, but she spoke before he could start it. 

“Love when you say cute names.”

“Yeah? C’mere, baby.” He reached up to grab her jaw, leading her into a kiss he knew would make her even more tired. 

As he predicted, she kissed him for about two minutes before finally breaking away and closing her lips. She curled up next to him, her hands on his body and her face nuzzled in his neck. Although he didn’t drink tonight, he was exhausted. From singing on stage to wrangling her - it was a long night. He wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Maybe he was on the right track with his sneaky attempts at opening her up, or maybe it was just all the drinks she had. He wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. Slowly, day by day, she was getting more comfortable with him. Before he knew it, he’d probably have to peel her off himself every time they’re together. He could handle it though. Ivy fell asleep almost instantly, and Harry wasn’t far behind her. 

[a/n: omg I enjoyed writing this one so much! the more comfortable she gets the better this will be :) hope u like! also realized that I gave myself way too much work with this insane word count.. I could have made this 2 parts but I didn’t want to lol. Reblog, comment, like all that good stuff!! see u soon .. xx]

taglist:

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@ariiscringe

@harlowsgirl

@lomllover r

@haniaaa04

@sideboobrry11

@tenaciousperfectionunknown

@fangirl509east

@fruity-harry

@sassamanda77

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@prettygurl-2009

@sincerely-yours-marsbar

@mypolicemanharryyy

@angelbunny222

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((to join the list, comment or send me a message + specify what you want to be added to (all posts, ivy series only, etc)))

[wolftarotcrafts]

What is coming towards you in love? Let's find out! Soon I will post another tarot reading on how your relationship may deepen for those in relationships already.

I also just want to say thank you for the support on my other tarot readings I have posted on here. It means a lot to see that my readings have resonated with people. And if you missed those readings and want to check them out, you can go to my page, and I will link them at the end.

I also have started setting up my Ko-Fi, so I will make a separate post on that if anyone is curious about personal readings. Please enjoy the readings.

Pile One:

Oooooooh, pile one. You have got some good things coming in. In terms of what you can expect, I see you meeting the one who you will get married to and start a life with. This is the person who is going to commit to you. I see you guys have kissed frogs and have been patiently waiting for your person. I see that the patience is finally going to pay off because on the horizon I see them arriving. I see you have been focused on yourself and really taking time for you. You are ready to receive what you want. I see it's just within reach. I see some of you are powerful manifesters and may have manifested your person with a spell or vision board. I say refresh the manifestation and make another little list of the qualities and traits you want your person to have and be specific. Use your power pile one and get ready because they are coming. 

Signs: Colored hair, Pink, Red, Purple, Black hair, Straight hair, Ocean, boats, Port, Fall, Seattle, Movie-10 Things I Hate About You, Seattle, Sunrise, Tomorrow-Annie, sunshine, light-hearted, Manifestation, Vision board, Songs, Winter, Dec, 18, In a few months, In a few days, Cancer, Virgo, Sagittarius, 1212, Leap of faith, Jack, Fernanda, Ashly, Laura.

Pile Two:

Hey pile two. I feel you guys are kind of in your own world. Many of you are young, like in high school, or just really carefree and youthful. I see you guys are just having fun and living the best life you can. I see there are two possible situations. I see that some people may have a crush on you, and you don't even know it. I see them admiring from afar. I see them finally gaining the courage to talk to you and ask you out. I also see another situation where some of you like someone, and you are observing them, and they are mirroring you and doing the same with another person. I then see you guys somehow come together and start liking each other. 

Signs: 6, 12, 19, 22, 26, 29, Aries, Aquarius, Brown hair, Orange, Tattoos, Smart, May, Asia, "Hi," Isaac, Swimming, Messages, hanging out with friends, Daylight Harry Styles, Hold On, We're Going Home- Drake,

Pile Three:

Hey pile three. I am sending you good vibes and all the love. Pile three I am not going to lie. There are some bad vibes here. Make sure you are careful with who you surround yourself with and who you tell your secrets to. I see there are some snakes around you. I see there is going to be some conflict, and you might get heartbroken, and there might be some deception going on. Some of you might know who I am talking about and just ignore the red flags, but listen, it's only going to hurt you in the end. Do not ignore the red flags. Pay attention to your surroundings and who you are with. Not everyone has your best interest at heart. Just guard yourself a little pile three. I know this was supposed to be about love, so one of your friends may take your crush or something like that to hurt you, but again be on the lookout. I'm sending you hugs, pile three.🫂❤️‍🩹

Signs: 18, C, A, I Sneaky, Secrets, Drama, Backstabber, Gossip, Gemini, Sagittarius, "Friends," Alex, Alexander, Adam, Andrea, Cassandra, Cassie, July, Sad songs Wildflower-Billie Eilish

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I have started working on my Ko-Fi, so more news on that is coming. Disregard the Etsy link.

Other Tarot Readings

Future Spouse PAC (Appearance)

Future Spouse PAC (Personality)

Advice-What you need to hear

Spirit Guide Reading

Again, thank you for the support!

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Can you please write a fic for the prompt “late night chats”?

The sound of Ron’s footsteps treading up the stairs to the dormitory slowly fades, and they’re finally alone in the Common Room. 

Ginny makes a show of checking to make sure the coast is clear, and then she burrows happily into Harry’s side, snuggling deeper into the squashy sofa by the fire. His arm snakes around her waist to pull her in closer. They should probably go to bed, too, but it seems wasteful not to eke out every moment she can, to wring this weekend completely dry of moments with him. 

“Thought he’d never leave,” Ginny says with a sly grin. “I was ready to sit on your lap just so he’d get the hint.”

“Were you?” Harry says with interest. Then, he turns his head toward the stairs, and calls, “Ron?” as though to summon him back. 

Ginny snorts and pokes him in the side, and he turns that devastating smirk back at her - flashing green eyes, crooked lips, the hint of a dimple - the one that’s had her slowly losing her mind for months. 

She still can’t quite believe she’s allowed to kiss the smirk off his lips, now. She does, just to prove it’s real. 

Every moment alone they’ve stolen has taken on this oxymoronic tone: bodily tangible, like she can reach out and grasp their growing tangle of feelings as easily as a Quaffle, but wholly surreal, like they’re some elaborate daydream snatched from her subconscious. Both, and neither. 

She pulls back and smiles at him, and he does too, something wry creeping into their expressions, something that seems to say, we’re nauseating but I can’t help it. 

He’s made her so quickly greedy for more, the git. It’s been two days of kissing and banter and touches, overwhelming and not enough. 

“Tell me something,” she says, suddenly, “that you haven’t told anyone before.”

His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, and Ginny’s plunged immediately into the vulnerability of her question, the implication of it. I want to be closer, she’s asking, do you? But, she’s not in Gryffindor for nothing, and so she holds his gaze and withstands his onslaught of silence. 

“Hm,” he says, looking thoughtful. “About what?”

“Anything,” she shrugs. “Whatever.”

Harry furrows his brow, stares ahead into the middle distance, and Ginny holds her breath, waiting to find out whether he’ll hand her a key or if she’ll have to keep knocking, knowing already she’s succumbed to knocking at his door until her knuckles bruise. 

“I dunno if my dad was a good person,” Harry says without preamble. 

Ginny doesn’t know what she’d expected him to tell her, but it hadn’t been that. “What makes you say that?”

He stares at his knees and explains about the Occlumency lessons with Snape. The memory he was never supposed to see. His father, every bit the bully Snape had always claimed. 

“--that’s why I wanted to talk to Sirius, last year,” Harry admits. “When you helped distract Umbridge. Stupid, I know–”

“It’s not stupid,” Ginny says fiercely. She feels the weight of it, what he’s told her. Wondering about someone who isn’t around to ask. Grieving someone and the idea of them at once. “What did Sirius say?”

“He said he grew out of it,” Harry says, though his tone says loud and clear that this explanation hadn’t been satisfactory to him. “But, I dunno. Means he was still a git before, doesn't it?”

“Maybe,” Ginny agrees. “Or maybe that was his worst moment.”

“Pretty shit moment.”

“Yeah,” Ginny admits, leaning her head on her hand, propped up on the back of the sofa so that she’s turned to face him. “Pretty shit. But I’d hate it if my future children only got to see me… oh, I dunno. Hex Zacharias Smith. Or slip that itching powder into Romilda Vane’s pumpkin juice.”

Harry shoots her a look. “When did you do that?”

“She tried to give you a love potion and got my brother poisoned, Harry.”

Harry snorts. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Well, that’s what I mean. We’ve all had shit moments that’d look terrible without proper context. My future children wouldn’t have any idea what Romilda had done to get on my bad side, would they?”

“I suppose,” Harry says, though he still sounds unconvinced. “But I don’t reckon there’s any context that’d make him look much better. I’m not saying Snape was a saint, I’m sure he gave as good as he got. But it… my dad was humiliating him. On purpose.”

“Mm,” Ginny hums slowly, mulling it over. “Do you reckon Sirius was right? That he did grow out of it?”

Harry swipes a hand through his messy hair. “He must’ve. My mum married him. Sirius and Lupin said he was better. But, I dunno. Maybe he did. I’ll never know, anyway.”

Ginny reckons that’s the real problem - the never knowing. Forgiveness is a difficult thing to offer when the person isn’t around to ask for or receive it. 

“I wish,” she says wistfully, “you’d got to see more. People can’t be all bad, I don’t think. I’m sure Sirius and Lupin have hundreds of memories that you would’ve liked him in. Makes it easier not to like him in that one.”

Harry’s lips part, and then he nods. “Yeah. Me too.”

She’s still thinking about it when Harry shocks her. “What about you, then?”

“Hmm?” she asks, confused. 

Harry jerks his head at her and nudges her knee with his own. “Your turn. Something you’ve never said to anyone.”

Ginny meets his eye, the warmth billowing through her chest like a cloud of candyfloss. He wants to know her, too. The thought - I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone - threatens to spill from her lips, but she holds her tongue, wanting to offer him something of equal weight. 

“I use the bathroom on the second floor whenever I can,” she says, knowing he’ll understand which one she means. “Just to prove I’m not bothered by it. Only, it does bother me. Maybe that’s why I keep using it.”

He looks stricken. “Do you still think about it a lot? The Chamber?”

Ginny shrugs, perhaps a bit more nonchalant than she actually feels. “A bit. Still get nightmares sometimes, but not as often as I used to.”

“Yeah,” he says, and she’s struck for a moment by the fact that they might be haunted by the same ghost. “Me, too.”

She shoots him a commiserating look, and continues. “But it’s not about… about Riddle, really. I mean, it is. But it’s more about… me.”

“What do you mean?” His stare is so piercing, like he’s trying to see straight through to her soul. She imagines he can. 

“I dunno. It was awful, obviously, what happened. But when I think back on it, what actually bothers me…” she chews on her words, trying to articulate the vague shame that always clings to these memories, “is that I was so stupid.”

“What?” Harry says sharply. “You were eleven. That diary… it’s… you weren’t stupid.” His words are so firm that it steals her breath. “That was a powerful bit of Dark Magic, you couldn’t have done anything.”

“No, I know that. Logically, I know that. But, I dunno. I wrote so many pathetic things in that diary.” She tries to laugh, but it comes out a bit scratchy. “I was so lonely, after Ron left for school. So desperate to go off to Hogwarts and have mad adventures and play Quidditch and… meet you.” She stares down at her hands, the embarrassment threatening to overwhelm her. “I just hate that he knows all that, that I was this pathetic, desperate little girl–”

“He doesn’t,” Harry says. “The version of him you wrote to is gone. The real one doesn’t know any of it.”

“Oh,” she replies, coming up short. “How do you…? Well, never mind, you haven’t got to answer that, I suppose–”

“It’s not that I don’t want to–”

“No, I know,” Ginny says quickly, unable to bear some platitude, not from him, “Really, you haven’t–”

“Whatever you wrote in that diary died with it,” Harry says firmly. “I promise.”

Ginny nods, and lets the words sink in. Ever since Riddle had come back, she’d wondered whether pathetic little Ginny Weasley was somewhere in the back of his mind. Weak. Stupid. An easy target, close to Harry. The relief that she might just be anyone – no one, even – to this version of Riddle, is palpable. 

“Thanks,” Ginny breathes. “That makes me feel a bit… better.”

“You weren’t pathetic,” Harry says, like the thought is so absurd he’d never considered she might feel that way. “It’s quite impressive you managed to resist it for so long, actually.”

Everything that had happened with that diary has been so tinted with shame, with weakness, that Harry might consider her brave for it… it feels so antithetical to everything she’d ever thought, she nearly laughs. 

“Right,” Ginny says, deflecting away with a joke. “I’m sure all those roosters thought I was very impressive.”

To his credit, Harry doesn’t laugh. “That wasn’t you. It was him.”

Easy to say, harder to feel. “The Department of Mysteries wasn’t you, either.”

Harry stares at her, and she holds his gaze unwaveringly. She can see she’s made her point, can read in the pull of his brow that Harry understands exactly the weight of a guilt so heavy that words can’t lighten it. Just as plainly, though, she can see that he hates that she’s carrying it at all. 

Fair enough, really. She hates that he is, too. 

She breaks eye contact and nestles back into his side. She lifts up his hand with hers, plays absently with his fingers. “Why haven’t you ever told Ron and Hermione about your dad?”

He considers for a long moment, letting her play with his hand and pulling her in closer with the other. “Dunno, really. Just felt… defensive, I suppose. Like whatever they’d said, it would’ve bothered me.”

“I get that.” She winces. “Did I upset you?”

“No,” Harry says quickly. “It’s not like that, with you.”

The words melt in her heart like honey, covering everything in sweet, sticky warmth. She ceases her mindless fiddling with his fingers and looks up at him, knowing her face must be an open book, knowing it must be apparent that he’s got her whole honey-coated heart in his hands. “It’s not like that with you, either.”

He stares back at her, deep into her eyes, and for the first time it occurs to her to check her own palm for his.

He leans down and kisses her deeply, and she pulls herself up and snakes her arms around his neck. This thing has always been irritatingly there, for Ginny - the way she can read exactly what he’s thinking without even trying, the way she trusts him absolutely, the way he makes her heart skitter like she’s in a free fall. 

It’d never honestly occurred to her how powerful it would be to have it reciprocated. To have him understand what she’s saying so completely, to have him offer her something vulnerable just because she asked, to feel his heart hammering against her own. 

It’s been two bloody days, and yet she’s slipped past the point of no return with him already. Perhaps she’d started there. 

She pulls back from the kiss, feeling breathless. Harry looks a bit winded, himself. 

“We should probably go to bed,” he mutters, eyes still locked with hers. 

They should, probably. 

And they will. Eventually.

[oceanicwriting]

new year.

part one. part two.

summary: the music, alcohol, and darkness. everything at that party felt a lot riskier, especially when the tension has been building for weeks now.

pairing(s): mattheo riddle x gryffindor!fem!reader

a/n: happy new year to everyone! here in chile it is two in the morning and this post is being published automatically, i will upload part two tomorrow at noon :-).

mention of sex, tension, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤyou look at your body in the bedroom mirror. the white dress was tight in the right areas, highlighting your curves and good shape from quidditch practices. you put on the shoes you had chosen earlier, fix your hair a little more, and touch up the red lipstick. you were so ready.

ㅤㅤㅤ—are you going dressed like that? —hermione granger, your sister one year older, studies your shape from head to toe. you knew she would disapprove, but you wanted to have fun that night regardless of what anyone says—. wouldn’t you rather wear something less revealing?

ㅤㅤㅤif there were two different sisters in the world, you were twice as much. your sister was always worried about getting good grades while you were worried about getting along with people. you weren’t a bad student because you have exceptional grades, but you cared about that world of vanity as much as the academic one.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what? —you ask, looking at his casual clothes. she didn’t look bad, but you get the feeling that she wore those same clothes to study the whole weekend before—. hermione...

ㅤㅤㅤ—don’t you dare judge me, young lady. —even though she was only a year older than you, she always treated you as if you were much smaller and naive—. we’re going with you to take care of you. nothing more.

ㅤㅤㅤyou smile and put on your best puppy eyes to convince her to change clothes.

ㅤㅤㅤ—don't do that.

ㅤㅤㅤeven though she laughs in your face, you know that hermione's weakness is your big, bright eyes begging for something. and this time was no exception, allowing you to dress her like a rag doll in whatever clothes you wanted. she had refused some clothes that were too revealing to get out of her comfort zone, but you know your job was done when your friends come to pick you up in the dorm.

ㅤㅤㅤ—bloody hell! —exclaims ronald weasley, your sister's boyfriend and friend.

ㅤㅤㅤ—hermione... —harry potter, the other boy friend of both, looks at her perplexed by the change of style.

ㅤㅤㅤhermione is wearing a skirt and a tank top. actually, you think the surprise for the boys is the makeup that perfectly matches the jewelry you had lent her. she looks so different.

ㅤㅤㅤ—don't make a scene —she says, exasperated. none of the boys seem to react to your sister's walk down the hall—. are you guys coming or what?

ㅤㅤㅤyou laugh, patting the shoulders of the boys who were still mumbling in perplexity.

ㅤㅤㅤ—beautiful, isn't she? —both boys look at you, then you hit ron's face—. what a lucky man.

ㅤㅤㅤthe walk to the slytherin house, where the party had been organized for students who did not travel to their homes for the holidays, is done in complete silence. everyone is on alert in case the guards on duty find you wandering around. when you arrive, there is a boy leaning on one side of the wall that faces the snakes room, looking at you with a bad face.

ㅤㅤㅤ—invitations. —harry, who had been in charge of keeping them, shows them—. no one followed you?

ㅤㅤㅤyou deny.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen the boy at the door lets you in and you go down to the common room, you can feel a combination of smells accumulate at the tip of your nose. cigarette smoke, candle wax, beer and men's cologne are the ones that stand out the most. people were grouped in different places, some talking or sharing bottles of alcohol. everything looked a little greenish because of the candles burning flames of the same color.

ㅤㅤㅤas you walk with your friends, many of your classmates greet you, stopping you more than once to chat too much, causing hermione to drag you along to keep walking.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i told you not to get separated! —she shouts, getting closer to your ear so you can hear her. you hadn't noticed how loud the music was until that moment—. you can't get lost!

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod, following the path to an area where ron had set aside seats.

ㅤㅤㅤthe truth is, with the music so loud and the discomfort of the moment, no one seemed to enjoy the night. harry hated having to shout over the music, hermione wasn't enjoying the way you didn't seem to hear anything from her and ron was sick of seeing everyone turn to look at his girlfriend.

ㅤㅤㅤ—can we go dancing? —you ask, leaning in close to your sister’s ear. hermione makes a face—. please.

ㅤㅤㅤshe looks at the small crowd of people in the center, moving against each other to the sound of the music.

ㅤㅤㅤ—come on, i didn’t come to sit. let’s go together or i’ll go alone.

ㅤㅤㅤ—fine, —she says, rolling her eyes and standing with you—. try to stay close, okay?

ㅤㅤㅤyou jump and follow the group into the tired bodies on the improvised dance floor. people never stop moving, accidentally bumping into each other and mixing their energies. your body just follows the rhythm, shaking shamelessly.

ㅤㅤㅤa few minutes later, a group of girls from your year approach to invite you to dance with them. hermione signals for you to do so, but you can still see her following you with her gaze while dancing with the boys. when she wasn't looking at you, you accepted the shots of alcohol that ran through your body like an instant energy boost. shortly after, when you try to look over your shoulder, you can't identify your friends among the people, but you don't go looking for them either because of the hands that stop at your waist.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what the...? —as you turn around, you can see those familiar eyes—. mattheo.

ㅤㅤㅤhis lips curve into a sideways smile.

ㅤㅤㅤ—good night. —he doesn't have to shout for the thud of his robust voice to be heard over the music—. beautiful.

ㅤㅤㅤmattheo riddle, with his hands tight on your waist, burning through the fine fabric of your dress, is devouring you no matter what. his lips curve the thin smile even more, gently pushing you against the crowd that makes its way into his presence. you could have said something, but there has always been that air between you that prevents you from protesting at the force of his walk.

ㅤㅤㅤ—come with me —he says, when you have left her and turn to look over your shoulder—. what is it, little granger?

ㅤㅤㅤyou wrinkle your nose at the nickname he has used since you two met.

ㅤㅤㅤ—don't call me that.

ㅤㅤㅤhe laughs, sending a shiver through your entire body.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'll bring you back safe and sound, you know that. —his hand grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him—. when have i not?

ㅤㅤㅤyou look at him, feeling his hand grab yours and pull it into a dark corner. your eyes can only define his dark silhouette, bright eyes, and scent. the feeling of his hands squeezing your hip again makes you jump.

ㅤㅤㅤ—will you repeat what you said last time?

ㅤㅤㅤhis hands travel to your thighs, picking you up and pinning your back to the wall. the guttural sound that comes out of his throat at your proximity makes you tremble.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what did i say? —you ask, smiling at the power of your voice in his breath.

ㅤㅤㅤ—didn't you say that next time you weren't going to make it so easy for me? —his face moves closer to your neck, pulling it aside to softly kiss some parts of your skin—. or wasn't that it?

ㅤㅤㅤmattheo and you weren't strangers sharing a crazy night of partying, although you weren't friends or lovers either. either of those sounded completely crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i was talking about studying, mattheo —you answer, sighing at the feeling of his wet lips against your neck—. in any case, can't a girl just change her mind?

ㅤㅤㅤfor weeks, you had been helping mattheo with his subjects by order of dumbledore. it had been a secret you had to keep because your friends would have forced you to refuse, and the snake itself had asked for it. as time went by, mattheo began to caress you, look at you, and praise you, making you lower your guard against his charms. so those desperate kissing sessions had not been a surprise to anyone.

ㅤㅤㅤ—is that why you follow me here as if nothing happened? —your hands squeeze the end of his hair, making him laugh—. desperate, right?

ㅤㅤㅤ—mattheo...

ㅤㅤㅤhis wet tongue collides with your hot flesh, going up from your collarbone to your cheek, forcing you to move your face in the middle of a smile. then, mattheo settles down, holding all your weight on his right arm and raising his other hand to direct your face towards his.

ㅤㅤㅤthe feeling of his lips pressing against yours, forcing his tongue inside and biting your lips like gum made you moan softly against him. in your ears, you could only hear the rubbing of clothes, lips smacking, and agitated breathing from both of you, stimulating every part of your body getting hotter and hotter.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i missed you so much, babe —he says against your lips, making you whimper when his hard cock hits your center—. so much... shit.

ㅤㅤㅤhis hand holding you squeezes your ass, making you move against his pelvis supporting part of your weight. a quick tickle runs through your body, but mattheo growls and stops holding you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'm going to fuck you right here if you keep doing that shit —he says, making you laugh and catching your bottom lip between his teeth.

ㅤㅤㅤyou grab his neck, pulling him closer and slowly running your hands down his breasts. mattheo, thanks to the light coming from somewhere in your direction, can notice the way your whole face begs to be touched, and that drives him completely crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you don't...

ㅤㅤㅤand from one moment to the next, the boy disappears from your sight, being replaced by hermione's murderous gaze in the light.

ㅤㅤㅤ—are you fucking kidding me? —mattheo questions, being pushed by ron weasley himself.

ㅤㅤㅤalthough you think his disappointed face is because his greatest enemies are pushing him so easily, mattheo can only have that face because you can't finish what you had started seconds ago.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what the fuck! —he exclaims, just as your sister grabs your arm—. what are you going to do?

ㅤㅤㅤ—what do you think you're doing?! —ron shouts, angry as if you were his own sister.

ㅤㅤㅤmattheo is pushed once again by harry, causing him to stumble against a table. the sound of bottles breaking against the floor makes you jump in your place.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what do you think i was doing? kissing the prettiest girls in the place. —and her laughter, filling the place without music, makes you smile at the compliment—. now if she gives me permission, i'll kick your fucking butts.

ㅤㅤㅤand everyone looks at you. hermione can't have a more angry expression because she would tear the muscles on her face. on mattheo you can notice your lipstick staining his mouth, funny eyes, and the way his lips gesture the number five three times.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'm sorry... —you says, denying the idea of ​​him defending himself.

ㅤㅤㅤyou expected his expression to change, but it doesn't because he keeps looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i pay the price —he says, just before receiving two fists in his face.

ㅤㅤㅤand you knew that a long night of scolding awaited you. although, if everything went well, you could escape as mattheo pointed out to you before leaving the place.

[mockingjaysnakes]

some facts about tom blyth:

did therapy.

he has a motorcycle.

he used to draw, learning how to use oil colors and mixing paint would be a feasible hobby to fit in between concerts.

in an interview he said: "i like the idea of doing something that scares me because that's where you learn the most."

his teenage (and ironic) fear of snakes derived from Indiana Jones and the unknown terrors that lurk in deep waters were conquered through exposure therapy.

he is studying and learning to speak Italian for his next film.

the mix of teenage angst, self-loathing and mischief has been processed in therapy. Now that you have competent knowledge, confidence and experience, acting has become more of something you can experiment with, learn from and expand on.

for Tom, acting used to be a form of escape. In an interview he talked about it: "i love accents, costumes, anything that takes me further away from myself because before I simply wanted to be anything but myself."

Donald Sutherland was actually one of his favorite characters in the original films of 'the hunger games'. In an interview he spoke about him and said: "i think he is one of the best villains in modern cinema."

Maya Hawke and Tom met at the Juilliard audition, the first time they started talking was at a school question and answer session.

he always creates a playlist for each character he's playing.

he gets a little camera shy when playing himself.

his passion for acting was influenced by his father, although he did not spend much time with him because he died when he was young.

during the pandemic, Tom was living in a cabin in the woods upstate, and he got up at 8 a.m. every day to chop wood for the wood stove to stay warm. "I was living this kind of lonely life and auditioning every day and just looking for the right job."

he loved western movies when he was a child.

at the premiere of The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, in Los Angeles. After he took off his oversized jacket, exposing his arms, Rachel Zegler spent the next day sending him messages about the "thirst trap."

his favorite rom-com movie is 'When Harry Met Sally'.

[nettedtangible]

You know what's wild to me is Hinny actually had the potential to be a really good ship and missed the mark so fucking hard bc Harry could never stop staring at Draco.

No one else Harry's age besides Ginny has had any interactions with Tom Riddle/Voldemort on a personal level. And then she spends an ENTIRE YEAR with the guy and Harry never asks her one question about it? not a one?

And I cannot remember a single interaction between the two of them in POA, there's about a million with Draco, but from memory, all I can recall is something like "Ginny was even more shy than ever around him now after he'd saved her life last year" which doesn't really make much sense because he's the only one who could even come close to understand what she's feeling and vice versa. And there's not even 1 scene. One! when they're all chillin in Diagon alley and Ginny comes up to him and they talk about the chamber, not one. It could've so easily been slotted in there at Florean Fortescues while Ron and Hermione look at books or something. But no.

Ginny and Harry could've had a deep bond over 1. knowing tom riddle personally. 2. their fears about losing their own autonomy and sense of self in the face of such a powerful enemy and 3. almost dying together at the hands of said enemy.

But they literally never do. Draco gets scratched up by Buckbeack tho and we hear about 6 renditions of Harry teeth-grittingly mad that he's playing it up for attention.

Like consider this! Harry is walking down the corridor and he hears Parseltongue. He freaks out bc WTF?! the basilisk is alive?! He bursts into Myrtle's bathroom to find Ginny, broom in hand, trying to open the Chamber with the only phrase she remembers from her possession. And he's like wtf are you doing? And she's like, I can't let this control me forever! I'm going down there and I'm going to bury this whole thing once and for all. She's a Gryffindor and essentially Fred and George's prodigal heir to mischief. OF COURSE she would try to go back down there. And Harry would hate it bc he's definitely a ignore your problems until they go awayer

But he would take her down there because he would feel guilty, and protective, and curious as well. And they could actually explore and look around and he would realise that she's actually quite fearless.

(total aside but why the fuck was Harry never pulled out of class in POA by McGonagall like "come with me Potter, you need to open the Chamber of Secrets for us so the professors can go down there and make sure it's all copasetic." Like yeah, sure, just leave a potentially dead? potentially alive? Carcass of a Basilisk to rot down there why not?)

And what if Ginny has a really hard time with recklessness after Chamber. What if she starts doing kinda crazy things that put herself in danger because she refuses to be afraid. What if she develops a "saving people thing" that forces Harry to confront what his crazy brand of throwing his whole ass self at the problem looks like to people who care about him.

What if she won't stop talking to him about Riddle, and it's making him uncomfortable bc hey, that's the guy who killed my parents. and she's like yeah but you talked about his cheekbones for at least 10 mins the other day? and he's like... ok yes but have you seen his cheekbones?!

In Philosophers, Harry says you can't go through some things with another person without becoming friends (referring to Hermione and the troll) but I guess you can almost get murdered by a giant snake and your mutual weird soul bond enemy at the bottom of a giant well and that's not a bonding moment.

The entire sequence of events served to bring Harry closer to 1. Dumbledore 2. Riddle 3. Fawkes the Phoenix 4. The Sorting Hat 5. The Sword of Gryffindor

And not Ginny in the slightest.

Hinny could've been great but Drarry just came in with a chair and fucking bodied Harry so hard that nothing else could ever even catch his attention.

[soullumii]

this is trouble | joel miller x f!reader

part 2

summary: it's been three weeks since joel last fucked you. tonight he finally has the time.

warnings/tags: 18+ smut mdni, filth. was meant to be plotless but sort of has plot now oops. fem!afab!reader, fwb, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, secret fwb, dirty talk, bratty!reader, grumpy!reader, dom!joel, soft!joel as fucking always (i’m a romantic, what can i say?) little bit of feelings oops, some angst at the end oops, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 4.6k-ish

a/n: couldn’t find a gif of joel stroking that damn guitar so i made one. lowkey hate this but i needed to upload something so here i hope u enjoy

so when you give that look to me,

i better look back carefully cuz this is trouble, yeah this is trouble

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

It’s been a good few weeks since you last fucked Joel.

Since this whole friends with benefits thing started between you. 

And tonight you’re kind of set on getting his dick back inside you again. Since, y’know, it’s been so long.

You’ve been craving it for a while, but tonight it’s kind of all encompassing. Kind of been the only thing on your mind since Tommy and Maria invited you out tonight. You and Joel, the latter who for the past three weeks has been busy with god knows what. 

You’re kind of pissed at him. Kind of really pissed. And your horny, pent up brain doesn’t help much with keeping your cool. 

At least you’re a few drinks in now, which has cooled your temper down some (though has spiked your libido quite a bit). Maria and Tommy are totally not picking up on your bad mood, though, thank god.

You swirl the last few dregs of wine in your glass, hardly listening to what Maria is practically shouting to you from the other side of the booth, since it’s so fucking loud in here. Your mind is caught on Joel standing at the other end of the Tipsy Bison.

You’ve been eyeing the way his hands curl around his glass of whiskey. The way his flannel stretches over his broad chest. The way his mouth moves as he talks to one of the stable hands named Harry. 

You remember the feeling of that mouth between your thighs.

Fuck, how much longer is he gonna make you wait? Another damn week?

He looks over at your table, eyes catching yours from across the room. You glare at him, trying to convey the frustration and lust and want you feel.  

His lip twitches in a smirk, seemingly having received your message. He pats Harry on the back, and then he’s sauntering back over to you and your little group of friends.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He slides into his seat next to you in the booth. His scent of pine and sandalwood envelops you, a silent torture in and of itself. “Harold doesn’t know when to stop talkin’.”

Tommy laughs boisterously. When he’s had one too many drinks, he’s impossibly loud. “Man, I remember when he kept me at the greenhouse for an hour talkin’ about some bullshit.”

“He's a good guy. Just likes to talk." Maria glances at the radio perched in the corner, a new song playing through the speakers sprinkled throughout the bar. “Oh I love this song! Let’s go dance!”

Joel looks over at you, and you’re still kind of out of it, eyes fixated on the way the sleeves of his flannel are rolled up above his forearms, showing off the veins that snake across his skin, the muscles that shift with each drum of his fingers on the table top.

You’re not in any condition to dance at the moment, and Joel is certainly aware of it.

“I think we’ll stay here,” he says. “Y’all go enjoy yourselves.”

“Suit yourself.” Maria drags Tommy out to the dance floor, leaving you and Joel at this little booth tucked in the corner all by yourselves. 

Alone. 

In the dark. 

And you’re drunk. Joel, probably on his way there.

This is not going to end well. Or maybe it will. For you, at least. Just…not for any poor suckers who might stumble across whatever is about to take place. 

Joel lazes in his seat, casually stretching an arm over the back of the booth, pressing in close to you.

“Howdy,” he says.

“Hi,” you say.

“…You doin’ alright?” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice rather than any real concern, and you know he knows exactly what’s wrong with you.

“I’m fine,” you respond coolly.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“I’m havin’ some trouble believin’ that, since you’re poutin’ like crazy right now, sweetheart.”

“I am not pouting-“

He laughs, full on fucking laughs at you. “Uh yeah, ya are. You’re actin’ like a lil brat. Givin’ me those goddamn eyes from across the room.” 

“Eyes? What eyes?”

His voice dips into something dangerously low, only for you to hear. “The ones practically beggin’ me to eat your pussy. Those ones.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel!” you hiss, turning your head to hide your embarrassment. You drain the rest of your drink and immediately wish you had more. Or some water, at least, to cool down the warmth settling high in your cheeks. 

“That’s what you want, ain’t it?” 

“I don’t fucking know. Are you actually going to do it? Or are you just gonna leave me high and dry again?”

He sighs heavily, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose and why is he the frustrated one here?

You’ve gone three fucking weeks without his dick in you! After he and you made a deal! You should be mad. Not him!

But maybe…maybe that’s just it. Maybe he isn’t fucking you because he just doesn’t want to anymore. And that, scarily enough, makes your chest ache and your eyes get all teary and wow you are so drunk right now. 

“Listen—“ he starts.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, Joel,” you snap, folding your napkin into little squares to distract yourself from how upset you are. 

He pulls back, and you think he might just get up and leave you to stew angrily again. You could afford to throw yourself another pity party. There’s a bunch more napkins on this table that need folding.

He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, his hand settles warm on your thigh. Your fingers stall around the napkin. 

“I know I’ve been busy, but I intend to keep my promise this time,” he says softly, his hand squeezing your bare flesh, your sundress already having ridden up your thigh. “Don’t think you’ve been the only one cravin’ this.” 

His hand caresses down your inner thigh until his palm is cupping you through your panties, his knuckles brushing over your clothed entrance, and you’re grateful that the booth is angled the way it is, that you’re tucked on the inside, because it makes it a lot harder for anyone to see what he’s doing.

And it makes it a lot easier for you to give into it.

Your legs fall open, providing him more access to where you’re slick and ready for him, your knee pressing into his jean-clad thigh.

“Mm, there we go,” he smirks, stroking you through the fabric, and a tiny whimper escapes you. He leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your ear when he murmurs, “You’re such a drama queen when you’re horny.” 

Motherfucker…

Okay, yes. You can be a bit dramatic. But it’s not only your body that’s horny for him…your heart is kind of horny too. Joel is your best friend and to not see or talk to your best friend for three weeks is practically torture, especially when they’ve been giving you the good dicking down that you deserve. You have a right to be dramatic. 

You send him a scathing glare but it melts the moment his fingers pull your panties to the side and slip beneath the fabric.

You’re wet as hell. You know it. He knows it. But you’re still mad at him, and kind of drunk, so…

“Don’t you say fucking shit.”

“I wasn’t goin’ to.”

It’s a damn lie. He loves commenting on how wet you get for him. While it’s a bit humiliating for you, it only boosts his ego. Like hell he needs an ego boost, though.

His finger lightly swipes up your folds, and he bites down on his lip to try and hide the arrogant grin on his face at the way you thrust your hips forward needily with a breathy pant, but he’s failing. It’s practically impossible for The Joel Miller not to make things about himself.

“How often did you touch yourself thinkin’ about me while I was gone?”

Case in point. 

“Hmm…I don’t think I ever did.”

He circles the pad of his finger around your entrance, and stares you down with dark eyes, looking straight through your core, his voice dipping into something sultry and ragged and downright criminal. “You’re such a damn liar.” 

You feel like you might melt into the faux leather booth. Your thighs are already sticking to it, why not just become part of it at this point?

He slowly sinks his finger inside you, his thumb stroking your outer lips as he does so, and you’re boneless against the cushioned back of the booth.

“I’ll be honest for the both of us. Practically came to the thought of you every night,” he mumbles against your ear and lightly bites your earlobe. “Was thinkin’ ‘bout how much I missed you… ‘bout your body… ‘bout this perfect pussy.” He emphasizes each word with a pulse of his thick finger inside you. 

You shudder, your body lighting up at the thought of him lying in his bed, his hand closed around his cock as he came with a moan of your name on his lips. 

“Why didn’t you just come see me?” You huff, choking on a breath when he crooks his finger inside you, stroking your walls.

“Too much was goin’ on. Maria had me on patrol every morning, then I had guard duty to watch the folks that just left town. I wanted to see you, but I didn’t have enough time. You know I like takin’ my time with you, sweetheart.”

His excuse is valid enough, and he really does like taking his time with you. Content to just plant himself between your legs for hours to coax you through orgasm after orgasm. Or fuck you slow and deep, pulling back just when you’re on the crest to watch you squirm before he builds you up again, over and over until you’re practically screaming at him to let you cum. 

Still…he couldn’t have stopped by once to explain his situation? 

He slides in another finger, and you vaguely register that the song Maria and Tommy sauntered out to the dance floor to is coming to an end and another is starting in its place. They’ll be back soon.

“We can’t do this here,” you hiss, attempting to pull his hand out from under your panties, but it’s half hearted. You don’t want him to stop.

But he pulls back anyway, “If that’s what you want.”

It’s sweet, it’s considerate.. But he’s a damn jerk, because he knows how long you’ve been waiting for this. He knows you want him to keep going. Especially judging by the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark and hooded, the corner of wicked his lips twisting up…

He just wants you to fucking say it.

“Joel…” you grumble.

“What? You change your mind?”

Your fingers curl around his hand, tugging it down again, pressing it up against your throbbing core. That’s gotta be answer enough.

He’s not having it. “C’mon baby. Use your words…”

You scowl at him, muttering, “Don’t stop.”

“Speak up, sweetheart. Can’t hear ya. It’s loud in here.” 

Ughhhh! “Please touch me, Joel. Please don’t stop.”

He smirks. “As you wish.” 

Princess Bride reference. Cute. Makes your heart flop a little in your chest.

Joel eases his fingers back inside you agonizingly slow. He strokes the pads of his fingers inside you. A tingle unfurls in your chest, starts in your toes and spreads up your calves, and a low moan tumbles from your lips.

Thankfully, from anyone passing by, it would look like you two are just deep in a private conversation. Joel, pressed against you, leaning in close, and you, shielded from view by his broad shoulders, listening intently to whatever he’s saying.

They just don’t know that he’s breaking you down, brick by brick. That he’s making you leak all over this fucking booth. That it’s pure filth he’s muttering in your ear and not a juicy secret.

“God, you look so pretty takin’ my fingers, like you were made for 'em. Such a good girl."

“Joel, oh my god…”

Your breaths are coming out hotter, heavier, especially when Joel’s fingers slip out only to glide up through your folds to run delicious patterns over your clit.

“Fuck…” You whimper, the heat in your lap pooling thick and abundant. Your hips chase after his fingers, grinding against his hand.

You’re dangerously close.

“That feel good, baby…?” He eggs you on, his voice a rough rumble of thunder against your ear. 

It’s embarrassing how quickly, how enthusiastically you’re nodding, and Joel slips his fingers back inside you, his thumb coming down to rub circles on your clit as he fucks his digits up and into you.

The music is loud, but beneath it, you can hear the wet sounds of your pussy as Joel takes you apart, stroke by stroke, a steady metronome. 

You grasp onto his forearm desperately, your nails digging into the muscles there with a gasp of his name. “Joel-“

Shit. You’re seriously going to cum in this shitty little moth-eaten booth in the only bar in this entire town. You won’t be able to live it down. But you can’t bring yourself to care–you’re close, on the precipice, and you meet Joel’s dark, dangerous eyes, urging you to cum on his hand with a C’mon baby, you can do it, give it to me and you might, it’s right there it’s—

“…-ere did you learn to do that?”

The unexpected sound of Tommy’s voice has you frantically ripping Joel’s hand out from beneath your dress and scrabbling for a napkin to wipe up the mess on your thighs, on the fucking booth, your orgasm rearing back angrily and setting into a dull buzz in your limbs.

The wicked man beside you scoots himself further under the booth, likely to hide the hard-on he’s sporting. He wipes his hand on his thigh. You think you can hear him grumbling angrily under his breath at the interruption, but you’re not sure, ears instead trained on the sound of your friends getting closer. 

You reach for the drink menu, pretending to read it.

“I took dance classes in my free time before the outbreak,” Maria says as the couple closes back in on the booth you and Joel were totally not defiling. She shimmies at the both of you. “You guys really missed out on some of my great moves while you were moping.”

“We weren’t moping,” Joel defends.

“Sure…” Maria drawls.

If she only knew.

“I’m just not really feeling well,” you say. 

Maria’s playful grin falls into a look of concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired. Need to go lay down, I think. It’s been a long day.”

“Let me walk you home,” Joel says, grabbing his coat he had slung over the booth and strategically positioning it over his pants when he stands.

“Thanks.”

“Feel better!” Tommy says, and you give him a grateful nod as Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back and he steers you out of the stuffy bar and into the cool summer night.

Katydids sing in the dark as you and Joel stroll down the street to your house tucked at the end of the cul-de-sac. Fireflies light the asphalt. An owl hoots overhead. 

“You really feelin' bad?” He asks quietly, once you’ve reached your front porch. 

"No. I just wanted to get out of there."

He hums. "Are you still mad at me?"

“I dunno.” Not really. You’re just pissed you were interrupted. Still, he needs to feel some remorse for his radio silence, so you don’t elaborate.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely as you unlock your door. “Really I am. There’s no excuse. I should’a made the time to at least tell you what was goin’ on. I’m sorry.” 

You open your door and pause in the warm light from the foyer. “You can make it up to me by fucking me.” 

“As good as that sounds, I wanna make sure you’re okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh. Ugh. Usually Joel’s fine with pushing things to the side. Bottling things up. He does it a lot. You sort of wish he would just drop it right now. You don't want to deal with the weird feeling in your chest that's been here all night. But he’s looking at you, waiting.

"I just thought...Maybe you were done with this. With me."

He frowns. “Hell no. I like what we have. I don’t want it to stop anytime soon." He steps forward, wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in.

"Me too..." You murmur, hands drifting up his back, pressing him in close for a hug. "I'm glad you're safe."

He chuckles. “Course I'm safe. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you say into his shoulder. "I just worry about you.”

"Yeah? You worry 'bout me a lot?"

You pinch his stomach playfully. "You're my best friend. Of course I do."

He pulls away a bit, huffs a tiny laugh. But it's not like his usual laughs. It's forced. Quiet. "Right."

You're a little too drunk to ask about it, and still horny enough to want to get things back on track, so you look into his dark eyes, smiling coyly, lip tucked between your teeth as you roll your hips into him. "Now that I forgive you…think you can fuck me now? Cuz it’s been way too fucking long.”

He groans softly, yes ma'am, and presses his lips against yours.

Okay, yes, he’s your friend but you also kind of kiss sometimes.

You tug him inside the house and shut the door, your mouth still latched to his. The moment the door snicks into the frame, he’s got you pressed against it, his hand rucking up your dress to bunch it around your hips while his tongue dips into your mouth.

You swiftly unbutton his flannel, sliding it down his arms. Your hands find his chest, fingernails scraping over his pecs, through his dark chest hair that thins out the further south it goes, but thickens again into a happy trail that disappears below his waistband.

Fuck, he’s so…

His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, a repeat of earlier, and you break the kiss to drop your head against the door with a thump when his fingers find your clit again.

“Jesus, you’re so wet.”

…And there he goes.

“Three fucking weeks, Joel,” you bite, though the end of his name melts into a moan when his fingers sink inside you again. 

“Didn’t know you were keepin’ count.” 

“Fuck—“ He quirks a finger. “S-shut up.”

He huffs out an amused chuckle into your cheek, trailing kisses from your jaw down your throat. His teeth sink in, and his mouth suctions over your skin, delivering a beautiful little mark on your flesh that he kisses gently after. It drives you fucking crazy.

“I’ll shut up if you let me taste you,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice vibrating pleasantly through you.

Your pussy pulses around his fingers, your clit honest to god throbbing against his palm, and now he knows you really want him to eat you out, especially when you follow up with an enthusiastic nod.

Joel slips his hand out from beneath your panties to lift you up around his hips and carry you to your bedroom. He plops you on the edge of your mattress and immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, eye level with your cunt.

“God, been thinkin’ about you for weeks. Missed this pussy so goddamn much,” he says, leaning in to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips trail down your leg as he pulls your panties off and stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Let’s see how good I did,” he says, pulling your legs apart to get a good look at what a mess he’s made of you. He hums appreciatively at the sight of your glistening folds, licking his lips. That enough has you clenching around nothing, fingers tightening in the bed covers. 

“You seein’ what I do to you? No one else can make you this wet, ain’t that right?”

“You’re such an arrogant ass,” you growl.

He just smirks as he lowers himself again between your legs. He puffs a breath of cool air along your slit before listing over to kiss your other inner thigh, grinning when you groan in frustration.

“Joel, please.”

“So impatient.”

“I’ve waited thr—“

“Three weeks, yeah I know.”

He presses forward to lick a hot stripe up your folds with the flat of his tongue, and your hand flies to his hair, anchoring him closer to your pussy.

“S-shit,” you whimper. 

He lightly drags a finger along your slit, the slight pressure fucking agonizing. 

“Joel.” You sort of want to scream at him. He’s been teasing you all fucking night. 

“Alright,” he laughs and allows you to guide his head back down until the bridge of his scarred nose is pressed into your folds and his tongue is prodding at your entrance. 

He takes his sweet time unraveling you, alternating between licking into you and sucking your sensitive clit into his mouth. You can’t say much, reduced to wordless cries with each movement of his mouth. 

It’s messy, sloppy, but you like it. You like seeing the wetness on his face when he pulls back for air. You like the way his hair is pulled in all different directions, all because of your greedy hands. You like the way he has to push one of his hands down to palm himself in his jeans, just to relieve some of that pressure.

He clearly loves eating you out. And you very much love that he loves it.

But you’re getting kind of desperate. Kind of really want to cum. So…

Your hips begin to grind against his face as he sucks on your clit, and he seems to receive the message because he slides two thick fingers into you and starts to eat you out in earnest, delighting with a low moan when your legs clench around his head, the scruffy hairs of his beard tickling your inner thighs. 

“Holy shit, Joel.”

“Mm—“ He moans.

Your foot keeps slipping off the bed, so Joel’s large, warm hand curls around your calves to situate your legs over his shoulders. This new position grants you more leverage to chase after your orgasm with steady rolls of your hips into his hungry mouth.

He sucks your clit as he thrusts his fingers into you at a brutal pace, hitting your g-spot that has you jerking against him with each stroke. His hand plants on your abdomen to hold you down, stilling your desperate movements.

You’re getting close, the pressure building and magnifying as Joel moans against your pussy, the vibrations driving you insane.

“Fuck, Joel—hah-“

“Mm.”

“Jesus, Joel—fuck—oh my—hnhh—”

“Mhm.” He encourages.

It shatters in you, white hot and falling over you, a waterfall of warmth. Your body straightens stiff as a board, back arching off the bed, quivering as you cum against Joel’s mouth, your slick running down his chin and catching in his beard.

You try to push him away, your orgasm overwhelming on its own, but Joel hates it when you do that, wants to make sure you really feel it, so he presses himself back in to lick and guide you through it. Drawing it out.

It has your head falling back, eyes rolling into your skull, mouth dropping open on a satisfied moan. 

He only gives you a short amount of time to recover while he pulls his jeans and briefs off. You tug your sundress over your head. And then he’s rising up to meet you again, scooting you back until your head almost brushes the headboard. He sinks his thick cock into you as he presses his lips against yours, muffling your surprised and needy moan.

And then he reaches up, his large hand gripping the headboard as your legs wrap around his waist, and then he’s fucking you in earnest, each snap of his hips sheathing his cock fully inside you in a desperate rhythm.

And all you can do is lay there and take it and fall apart.

“S-shit, baby,” he grunts. “That’s it.”

“Oh God…” You whine. 

Your hands scrabble for purchase on his back, your blunt nails scratching up his sun-freckled skin, feeling the muscles bunch and shift as he holds the thumping headboard steady, his knuckles turning white as he grips it. His other hand finds its spot next to your head, holding himself up as he obliterates your pussy. 

He prepared you well for him, but you’re still stretched so full, the breaths knocked from your lungs with each thrust of his cock into you. His pelvic bone brushes your clit with the roll of his hips, the uneven pressure dragging you closer and closer to that metaphoric cliff.

And his moans certainly help, too. He’s not quiet, between strings of praises are ragged moans and tiny whimpers. It only turns you on more.

“Fuck, Joel, can’t leave me without this again.”

“Trust me baby,” he groans. “Another damn week and I wouldn’t’ve survived.”

His hand releases the headboard, slides down to tangle in your hair. He tugs your head back, and molds your lips to his. Teeth nipping your bottom lip before his tongue dives into your mouth. You moan appreciatively.

You can hardly breathe, but god it’s perfect. This moment is so fucking perfect. You want to take a picture of it. Frame it on your damn wall. 

You’re sure it looks like he’s fucking eating you right now, but you like it. You want him to consume you. Want him to be yours… Want to be his.

Stop. He’s your best friend.

He pulls back to lick a stripe from the corner of your lips along your jaw before sucking marks and kisses down your throat, his hips still thrusting into you steadily. His hand squeezes your breast, rolls your nipple between his index and thumb.

“Oh…oh—“ God… 

“You close baby girl?”

“Fuck, ye-yes… Yes need you…”

“N-need me to help you cum?”

He’s losing it. You’re losing it. Fuck please!

“Please, Joel—“

He pulls back enough to watch you, lips pink and puffy and kissed the fuck out. His eyes drift to where he’s thrusting inside you, dick slick with your arousal, sheathing itself inside you with wet, fucking nasty sounds.

“God, you're perfect. So fuckin' perfect...” 

His hand drifts down and you tremble, brows screwing together as his thumb fiddles with your clit.

White hot arousal pools in your core, unrelenting. Unstoppable. You feel like a damn metamorphic rock. Becoming something new under all this heat and pressure. 

It crests, crashing, filling your insides with hot magma as your mouth drops open on a silent scream, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy clamps down on Joel’s cock repeatedly.

He follows right behind you, painting your insides with thick, hot cum, leaking out of your entrance over his cock and down your ass cheeks.

You hiss when he pulls out, feeling empty. He gathers the cum that leaked out with his thumb and pushes it back into your quivering hole. 

“So goddamn pretty…” he murmurs. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you…”

Friends. You’re friends. 

So why the hell does this feel like so much more? Why is it that you’re so turned on by him practically claiming you?

You’re still trying to catch your breath when he lays down beside you, brushing your hair out of your sweaty face. “Feel better now? Not so mad anymore?”

“Mhm,” you hum happily.

He leans in, presses his lips against yours softer, slower…meaningfully. You kiss him back, tugging him close. His arm snakes around your waist, tugging you into him. You're pretty sure normal friends with benefits don't do this. But you and Joel have never been normal.

In those long three weeks you had started to worry maybe he'd never come back. It fucking scared you. Now, you're unsure you ever want to let go.

When he pulls back his eyebrows are furrowed, lips drawn in a frown. He looks concerned. "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"You're cryin'..." He wipes your teary eyes with his thumb.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You scramble to wipe your eyes, sniff. Smile at him. Reassure. Act normal. "Oh, no-I'm fine. Just... think I'm still drunk."

"Somethin' going on? You looked like you were gonna cry back at the Bison, too. Did I do somethin'?"

You shake your head, squeeze his arm. "No, of course not. I'm just being weird. Tired, I think.”

"You sure?"

"Mhm.”

"You can tell me anythin’, y'know?"

What? Like I think I'm in love with you? Fat chance.

"I know. Everything's fine."

You’re such a damn liar.

He can see right through you, but he lets it go. "Okay. If you're sure." He leans in to press a kiss to your jaw. Friend. Friend friend friend. "I'd love to stay but I gotta go. Ellie's probably wonderin' where I'm at."

Joel sits up, swings his legs over the edge and stands. Grabs his jeans, pulls them up. His belt buckle jangles as he slides it through the loops.

“I really did miss you, by the way,” he says, looking down at you. “You. Not just the sex.”

His words warm your cool, exposed body. Fuel the burning the realization, I love you. “I missed you, too.”

He turns to leave, and you see the fabric poking out of his back pocket.

"You still have my panties."

He smirks. "Guess you'll hav'ta come over to get them back."

You smile back, blushing. “Looking forward to it.”

He leans down to kiss your head, "Night, angel."

"Night," you say faintly.

Only when your front door slams shut do you allow yourself to give into the fantasies. To imagine what it’d be like to call him yours. To not keep things a secret. To tell people you're together. To be his.

Damnit, you’re in trouble.

[insomniac4000]

ChrisMD- Wedding Woes

The problem with being two internet-famous people in love was the internet part.

There was ChrisMD; The Youtuber. Known for football, free kicks, chaos with his mates, and his occasional vulnerable chatty videos about his mental health, and of course his short stature had somehow managed to keep his engagement to Y/N two million subscribers on Tiktok superstar, travel vlogger, and Instagram queen almost entirely under wraps for eight months.

That was a miracle in itself.

They had told their friends in phases: George Clarke first, who accidentally threw a cushion across the room and screamed when Y/N held up the ring during a game night. Then WillNE and Harry Lewis, who immediately began placing bets on who would cry more during the ceremony (odds were on Chris). Reev had cried when he found out. Theo Baker filmed a vlog that never aired where he just talked about how happy he was for them for ten minutes straight.

But they had kept it tight. Incredibly, miraculously tight.

Except now, three weeks away from the wedding, the pressure was mounting and they were both worried about fans catching on. Certain corners of the internet had ears sharper than any dog, eyes sharper than any owl, more cunning than any fox. They knew things, they found out things, they could be relentless. They were watching them. Always. And Y/N was exhausted.

She stood in the kitchen, steaming cup of coffee in her hands as she was deep in thought. She felt Chris’s arms snake gently around her waist from behind, his voice low. “Still thinking about it?”

Y/N didn’t answer for a beat. Then: “It’s like we’re fugitives.”

He chuckled into her shoulder. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’ve always wanted to be in a spy movie.”

“Chris.”

“I’m serious. We’ve got code names. Secret locations. George almost booked his flight under ‘Mr. Clarksworth’ like he was in Mission Impossible.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back against him. “It’s just not fun anymore. I didn’t think I’d care, but… they don’t know when to stop. I hate hiding. I hate lying.”

Chris turned her around, his expression gentler now. “We’re not lying. We’re just protecting it, protecting us.”

“They think we don’t trust them they’re still our fans.”

“Do you trust seven million strangers with knowing the time and place of our wedding?”

Y/N frowned. “…Fair point.”

Chris pulled her into a hug. “We’re doing the right thing.”

She let herself be wrapped in it for a moment. “I just wanted one thing… one thing that was just ours. But it’s like even when I’m not filming, I’m still being watched.” People often argued as she was a public figure that she wasn’t entitled to any privacy but she disagreed. Just because there were some aspects of her life that she felt comfortable about sharing that didn’t mean her whole life should be an open book.

Chris didn’t argue, in fact he wholeheartedly agreed with her. They only soft launched their relationship after four months because someone found out by studying Instagram backgrounds and recognising they were in the same place, twice. That was all it took. One of the main reasons why they fell in love was because they were on the same page, they understood each other. She knew him beyond free kicks and being short. He knew the Y/N who cried when she was overwhelmed, the one who needed quiet walks with no cameras, the one who didn’t want to feel like her entire life was up for review in the comments.

“Hey,” he said softly. “If it gets worse, we can cut more people. Smaller wedding. We can even just elope. Seriously. I’ll marry you in a shack on the beach if you want.”

Y/N looked up at him, amused despite herself. “A shack.”

“With a dog as a witness.”

“A dog?”

“A goat, then. Whatever Cabo Verde’s got.”

She finally smiled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me.”

“I do.”

He kissed her forehead, and for a moment, it all melted away.

Despite the tension, the operation was going surprisingly well. Their friends were incredibly supportive; George had filmed three weeks worth of his Podcast in advance, Arthur and Bach announced a season break for a month so no suspicions would be raised there. Will had a plan to set his Instagram location to constantly bounce between London and Madrid to throw people off. Her best friend and fellow content creator had a bunch of grid posts ready, some from the hen which had already taken place in Malta a few weeks before which would hopefully throw people off the scent, but even so the pressure was bubbling.

Two weeks until the big day, Y/N had a proper meltdown.

It was 1 a.m., and they were packing in their bedroom, surrounded by suitcases and crumpled lists. Chris was folding shirts. Y/N was staring at a list of last-minute confirmations from the wedding planner. And then, without warning, she burst into tears.

Chris was beside her in a second. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

“I just…” she sobbed, “I can’t; what if someone leaks it? What if it pisses it down?What if the flowers don’t arrive and the cake melts and I trip walking down the aisle and some idiot with a drone films it and I end up on MailOnline as ‘Influencer Bride FAILS Wedding’?”

Chris bit back a laugh and instead pulled her into a hug. “First of all, you could fall face-first into the cake and I’d still marry you. Second, we’ve got this. Everyone’s been so amazing. We’ve made it this far. And third—what if it’s perfect?”

She sniffled against his chest.

“What if the flowers are beautiful, and the sun sets at the perfect moment, and you walk down the aisle and I’m crying like a mug and everyone’s just... really, truly happy for us. And no one ruins it. Because we didn’t let them. But most of all, it will be perfect because I’m marrying you.”

Y/N pulled back, her eyes glassy. “That was disgustingly sweet.”

“Thank you, I try.”

She exhaled shakily. “I just hate this side of it. The guessing. The pressure. People thinking they’re owed every part of us.”

Chris nodded. “We owe them great content. We don’t owe them this.” He kissed her head, it was her absolute favourite kiss and always calmed her down.

The flight out was like a covert operation

All guests were told to stagger their flights where possible and arrive through different airports. Everyone was instructed not to post until after the wedding.

George, Bach and both Arthur’s arrived together and pretended they were shooting a platform roulette when the recording had actually taken place a few days beforehand. The Sidemen had an airtight excuse; they just posted that JJ and Tobi were in Dubai, a planned diversion. Even Freezy played along, posting photos of him “in Italy” while sipping cocktails on a veranda in Santa Maria.

Y/N and Chris flew separately, Chris going through Frankfurt, Y/N via Lisbon, meeting secretly in a quiet corner of the Cabo Verde airport before being whisked away in a blacked-out van.

“This is insane,” Y/N muttered, laughing despite herself as she flopped into the seat. “Feels like we’re in a spy movie.”

Chris leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Worth it though. Hi I’m Bond. Chris Bond.”

“You’re so corny,” she giggled, he sent her a cheeky grin in return, the type that made her heart melt.

The villa they were staying in the night before was everything they’d dreamed of.

Perched on a cliff with whitewashed walls and bright bougainvillaea, it had gorgeous views of the sea, warm breezes, and an air of tranquil privacy. Local chefs were preparing fresh food. The planner had delivered everything on time. The cake was perfect. The dress was here.

No one had leaked a thing.

The night before the wedding, Y/N stood barefoot on the balcony, her curls bouncing in the breeze. Below, fairy lights twinkled in the garden where guests were laughing over cocktails.

Chris joined her quietly. “Hey.”

She turned, smiling softly. “Hi.”

He reached for her hand. “Tomorrow’s the day.”

“Tomorrow, I’m going to marry you.”

They stood in silence for a while, just holding hands and watching the waves crash.

“I’m glad we did it this way. Despite all the stress. Y/N whispered. “We did it. We really kept it quiet.”

Chris pressed a kiss to her temple. “Tomorrow, we get to celebrate. Not for them. For us.” They toasted glasses of champagne.

The wedding was perfect.

No drones. No paparazzi. No fans screaming. Just laughter, family, friends, elegance, sunlight, and the sound of waves in the background.

Y/N walked down the aisle barefoot, veil trailing in the breeze. Chris’s hands shook as she approached, eyes already glassy. George tried not to cry. Reev failed miserably.

Their vows were quiet, private things. Promises made not for content, not for cameras, but for each other although Chris couldn’t help but add a little joke about the number of subscribers he had.

At the reception, they danced under string lights while the sea sparkled behind them. The food was phenomenal. Harry got too drunk and gave a speech about true love that ended in tears. Liv gave them matching friendship bracelets “to commemorate your ultimate collab.” Becky forced everyone to do a shot, even Chris’s nan, who was a little bit too willing to comply.

No one checked their phones. No one streamed. No one leaked a thing. It would be posted soon, in their own time. When they were ready, maybe after the honeymoon but for now it was their little secret.