#there’s something particularly bad about Harry to me.

[hawkogurl]

Anyways. Once again thinking about how ableist and saneist TASM and TASM2 are.

[moonchildstyles]

pomegranate

pomegrante part one: harry and y/n are roommates and she doesn't want him to feel lonely

wordcount: 14.2k+

—————

Harry's brows knitted together as he lifted his eyes from the avocado he was slicing, eyes flitting to the television from where he stood at his kitchen island. Truthfully, he didn't know why he kept watching this show when he never agreed with any of the contestants' decisions. More often than not, he came away frustrated when he watched these singles fumble budding relationships in favor of the near-mythical 'something better' they were convinced was out there. He couldn't understand why they prioritized sex with someone they didn't even know existed yet over someone right in front of them, that was more than enough. 

Shaking his head when he saw another shirtless, spray-tanned man with a head of permed curls on the top of his head pull a beautiful girl to the side for a "chat",  Harry directed his attention back to the strokes of the knife under his hand. His sushi bake would be out of the oven soon and he needed to get all of his fix-ins in order before the timer ran out. 

Just as he stowed away his slices of avocado and started on the edamame pods he planned on salting and marinating, the humming of the garage door rolling up rumbled through the house. A slight smile touched at his cheeks, already anticipating the clicking of heels he would no doubt hear before the door leading from the garage to the kitchen would be swung open with a huff. 

(Y/N) had been on a date tonight, and there was no way it had gone well if she was already home. Only an hour away didn't make for a particularly fun night. 

As expected, only moments after the garage had been closed and he heard the slam of her car door, (Y/N) trudged in from the extension with a tired expression on her face. 

"Hey, H," she sighed, already bending over to take her shoes off despite barely making it onto the tile of the kitchen floor.

"Hi, (Y/N)," he greeted, turning around with his avocado slices left behind, "Bad night?" 

He didn't have to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes. 

"The worst." She stood up to her full height—sans high heels, of course—with a flick of her hair. "I should've just stayed home with you. I wouldn't have been bored to near tears with you." 

For a second, Harry felt his heart sitting in his throat. Did she have any idea what it did to him when she talked like that—joked like that? Years into this friendship with no shortage of her sweetened comments, he doubted she did. He just hoped that she didn't notice his cheeks reddening and the way his hands suddenly didn't know what to do. 

"'M sorry," he murmured, "Was he nice at least?" 

(Y/N) shrugged, the silk straps of her top shifting over her smooth shoulders. "Nice enough—he just likes talking about himself, I think." 

Harry's lips thinned at her comment. He couldn't imagine being anything but the best listener for (Y/N); who wouldn't want to hear everything that was going on in her head and the piles of stories, however mundane, she could share? 

"Well, unless you're too tired, we could watch our show? Dinner will be ready soon if y'were still hungry." 

It was the way she seemingly inflated, light in her eyes with her hands brought to her chest all to match the bubbly smile on her lips, that had his heart springing in his chest. 

"You'd share your dinner with me?" 

You can have everything of mine, as long as you keep looking at me like that.

A mild smile curled his lips in hopes of concealing everything bubbling underneath his skin. "Of course. 'S a salmon sushi bake, if that sounds any good to you." 

"That sounds so good, H. You're the best, thank you." 

Her smile was dazzling when she turned it on him. Thank god he had set his knife down, or he would have lost a couple of fingers at this point. 

This time, he couldn't shake the smile that bloomed over his lips, however sheepish it was. "Of course—um, thank you." 

A peal of laughter left her lips as she traipsed out of the kitchen, heels in hand. "You're so sweet. I'm gonna change, but I'll be right back!" 

As if in a swirl of cherry blossoms and white lace, (Y/N) was gone. Along with her went the sparks that flooded his bloodstream and tremors in his fingers. 

God, he'd have thought knowing her since university days he would be used to her at this point. It was as if becoming roommates those couple of months ago did the opposite of acclimating him to her presence. He wasn't sure there was anything about her—the way she looked, the way she acted, the way she talked—that didn't hold even a bit of magic in his eyes. 

The sound of the oven timer going off brought Harry back to real life. Now that he was planning on sharing this dinner with (Y/N), he wanted to ensure everything was perfect. One of his favorite things about living with her was being able to take care of her through simple things like cooking dinner or making coffee in the morning. Every night she went out on a date or took a night off to go out for a girls night, he was there to get the rundown of her time away and feed her toast and water to lessen the blow of the morning hangover as much as he could. He was there for any and everything—even if he wasn't necessarily in the mood to hear about her feelings for another. He would rather be on her side even if she was on someone else's arm, than not be there at all. 

All while (Y/N) was readying herself for a night in with Harry, he was focusing on his knife strokes and mixing the different sauces to be drizzled over the bake. By the time she emerged with a set of pajamas on and her hair twisted out of her face, Harry had crafted the perfect dinner to be shared over an episode of their tropic reality dating show. 

He didn't wait for her before he was putting together her plate, dressed the way he knew she liked, sheets of nori off to the side along with a pair of chopsticks he taught her how to use years ago. 

"There's extra in the kitchen if y'want more," he murmured as he passed the plate to her hands, taking the spot on the couch at her side. 

"This looks so good, H," she beamed, looking at him with something he liked to think of as affection in her eyes, "Thank you again, really. You're already making my night so much better." 

"Good," he swallowed, dropping his eyes to the tip of her nose, "'M glad I could—um—make y'happy."

He could have cringed at the sound of his fumbling words, but that was only cut off when (Y/N) shot him a beaming smile and gave him a hug in the form of wrapping her arm around his own and resting her head on his shoulder for a lingering moment. 

"Wait! Wasn't he paired with Amber an episode ago?"

(Y/N)'s bubbled outrage was the perfect cover to the way his heart had landed in his throat. This way, he could concentrate on anything but himself and the reactions he was having over someone who was supposed to be just his friend.

"Yeah," Harry murmured, wrapping a bite of crispy rice and marinated salmon on a sheet of nori, "He pulled Lissa over for a chat at the start of this one." 

"Of course, he did," (Y/N) grumbled. 

While he would never wish anything but pure joy on her, Harry couldn't help the way his own happiness sprouted in his chest. He would never pass on a night like this.

—————

"Can I lay on you?" 

Harry blinked back to earth at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice over the familiar episode of a long ended reality show they'd already watched hundreds of times. Looking to her end of the couch, she was already slouched into the corner cushion, eyes heavy and hair tucked not a mess away from her face. 

He didn't think before he nodded his head, uncurling his legs to allow her space to lay her head. She murmured her gratitude in a sleepy voice as she stretched across the cushions to rest her head on his thighs. 

It was a familiar move, something that (Y/N) had done many times even prior to their roommate situation coming to fruition. She'd spilled to him more than once that she was a cuddly person—touchy-feely, was the way she put it—taking and loving all of the physical affection she was able to collect. Including from Harry, who always seemed to take the whole thing entirely too seriously. It was cute, she'd said, cute enough she couldn't help but to laugh. 

Tonight, she was already heavy-eyed and loose-limbed by the time she settled against his legs. Her hands were tucked under her cheek, a small barrier between his thigh and her cheek though he could still feel every ray of her warmth no matter what. 

He did his absolute best to stay relaxed despite the instinct to straighten his spine and tense his muscles at the affectionate way she laid over him. He wanted to be the best pillow he could be for her, and that wouldn't be possible if he resembled a wooden plank more than a fluffed case of feathers. 

Harry's win came in the form of a languid sigh that left her lips, (Y/N) practically going boneless against him. 

"You're the best, H," she murmured, just barely audible over the club music sounding from the television. "Thank you." 

Swallowing, he allowed his eyes to glaze over her form without her own watchful gaze on him. Hearing those words attached to that mouth from this gorgeous girl, was going to make him burst. 

"You're welcome," he whispered, urging his eyes to move on from the sliver of her midriff on display from the ruched hem of her top. 

As expected, a breathy laugh came from (Y/N). "You can touch me, you know," she said, twisting just enough to look up at him through flared lashes, "You don't have to keep your hands up like that." 

He hadn't even realized he froze with his limbs hovering over her, resting away as if there were a barrier holding him back. "Oh," he sounded, blood burning behind his cheeks, "Sorry." 

Could he be any more pathetic? Embarrassment surged through his veins. Was there any other way he could make it that much more obvious just how nervous (Y/N) made him? 

In a set of cautious movements, his hands floated back down to her form. He gently settled his palm on the cuff of her shoulder while the other rested near her head, where strands of hair brushed the stretch of his fingers. 

"It's okay," she said, the smile evident in her voice despite Harry not seeing the curl, "You're so silly, H." 

It was the way her voice trailed off, taking on a deeper octave than before, that showed him just how close she was to finding the other side of her eyelids. He instinctively began running his thumb along the ball of her shoulder, a circuit that had him skimming her soft skin with the sleeve of her top pushed out of the way. 

There was something about seeing her skin being dented by his touch, a touch that wasn't particularly strong or even rough at all. She wondered if she was able to feel the whorls of his print, the creasing of his knuckle. It was an innocent enough feeling, his hand upon her arm, but he felt his heart beginning to thump. His throat was thick enough he felt his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

This was another facet that only took on a life of its own, the casual intimacy that had been sparked between them now that they shared a home. Laying her head on his shoulder in a passing hug, resting her head on his lap, practically asking him to put his hands on her as she was lulled to sleep. Logically, he was sure this was supposed to get easier as it went, the more it happened the magic was supposed to lessen. But, that just didn't happen.

His heart still thumped heavily. His stomach tightened and pitted and warmed. His...  well, other parts of him appreciate the touching too, even if he resented focusing on those parts of himself.

It felt more than wrong to acknowledge his baser interests in her, not when she was such a kind and loving friend to him. If that boundary between them was meant to be crossed, there were plenty of times both during their university days and the years that followed, that gave perfect opportunities for that line to be wiped away and crossed in favor of something new. Instead, they were still just friends—best friends, even. 

You're not supposed to get hard over your best friend. Not when she was doing nothing but falling asleep in his lap. Not when she was relaxing in her own home in comfortable pajamas—even if they were comprised of a soft t-shirt and pair of shorts just a touch too small that rolled up at the hem, giving more and more skin for his eyes to feast upon. Without a bra, of course. A fact evident in the way her nipples would peak against the material. 

No, he was not supposed to be hard over that. Not to mention the glaring fact that she spent nearly every weekend on a date with someone or going out with the express purpose of having fun and meeting other people. 

There was also, of course, the most prominent issue: he's a virgin. Even if he somehow managed to see more than just a friendship in him, he would have no idea how to take care of her. (Y/N) was someone who had experienced enough physical affection that she no doubt knew what she enjoyed and what she didn't; there was little to no appeal to teaching the one you're in bed with how to do the most basic of acts.

So he would keep his distance, even if the rest of his body refused to get on the same page. 

"Are you okay?" 

(Y/N)'s mumbled voice shook Harry from his thoughts. Blinking back to the real world, she was tipping her head up to look at him with sleepy eyes. 

"Hm?" he hummed, aware of the way his hand had gone still on her arm and his bones had grown stiff. 

"Do you want me to move or something?" she murmured, "So you can get comfortable? Sorry if I made your leg fall asleep." 

Harry's skin warmed to a flushing red. Of course, he would grow restless when she was on his mind. Taking stock of his body, at least he knew he wasn't that hard; any longer in his mind and he may have had a problem. 

"'S alright, 'm alright," he rushed out, "Jus' think 'm getting tired. Sorry." 

She smiled up at him, her hair haloing around her head in his lap. "It's okay," she laughed, "Do you want to go to bed? We can keep watching tomorrow instead." 

That was what he needed at the moment: distance. Some peace and quiet and a moment to get his head on straight. "Let's go to bed," he affirmed, mimicking her soft smile. 

Her movements were lethargic as she moved off of his lap. A curling stretch had her raising her arms above her head, the hem of her top lifting just enough to show a sliver of skin above the waistline of her shorts. Harry quickly retracted his eyes, settling his gaze to his feet instead. 

Turning to him, with eyes slightly hooded and limbs languid, (Y/N) gave him a smile. "Goodnight, H," she mumbled, "Thanks for making my night better."

Collecting him in her arms, Harry didn't have to think before he was reciprocating her hug. The scent of her perfume twisted around him, stray hairs tickling the tip of his nose. Her words echoed in his head. 

He made her night. She made his life. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," he crooned, melting into her hug for just a moment longer before unwrapping himself from her hold. "'M happy I could help." 

Her smile was sweet as she turned on her socked feet towards her bedroom. "See you in the morning." 

He watched as she pushed open her bedroom door, her eyes glanced over her shoulder at him. Her pretty, pretty eyes. 

"See you in the morning." 

With that, the night ended as she closed her bedroom door behind her. 

Though she stayed just where she was on Harry's mind. 

—————

Harry wiped his hands clean now that the sink was cleared of all dirty dishes. The clock on the stove detailed the time as eleven thirty-two, a half an hour longer than he meant to stay up tonight. But, he supposed that's what happened when he decided to take a nap instead of cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. 

Quiet voices sounded through the living room from the show running on the television though Harry didn't pay it any mind as he swept through the space. (Y/N) was out for a girls night, leaving it Harry's turn to take care of the common spaces to ensure neither of them would have to tidy anything in the morning. Plus, he didn't think it would be very nice of him to leave her stumbling over his pile of shoes when she came home after a night of drinking and crashing on a friend's couch. 

He could still see traces of her scattered about the space in the form of stray glitters from her outfit, a pair of loose hair ties left on the table by the door, right next to her usual handbag ransacked with only a few random items left in it from the essentials she pulled from it to take out on the town with her. He hoped she was having a fun night—she deserved it. 

After cleaning up and turning off the television and lights, Harry retired to his bedroom upstairs. Turning on some music through his headphones, he started on his nighttime routine. It was definitely less extensive than the one he'd seen (Y/N) do night after night, but there were a few serums and techniques he'd stolen from her—including the lavender room spray he was addicted to misting through his room before laying his head down. It turned his dreams decadently sweet, he thought. (Or it could be because he always fell asleep with (Y/N) on his mind, the lavender scent reminding him of her every night without fail).

But, this time, when he laid his head on his fluffed pillow, delicate music filtering through the space from his bluetooth speaker, Harry wasn't ready to go to bed. He had known the evening nap he took wasn't the smartest idea, leaving his limbs restless and eyes wide open. As soon as he knew (Y/N) was home safe in the morning, Harry planned on running all of the errands he'd pushed off this weekend, and a late wakeup time wasn't going to be the most productive move. 

There were only so many things he could think of doing to tire himself out. Scrolling on his phone was a no-go considering how he knew the blue-light would only urge him to stay awake, his book was too riveting to be a useful bedtime story, and going for a run this late wasn't the best option. He just needed to tire himself out. 

Fitting his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry figured there was another option. 

He wasn't quite in the mood at the moment, he could put himself there he figured. He doubted it would take much work, really. 

As if this were a laborious task, Harry kicked his comforter from his hips with a sigh. He reached for his phone on instinct, opening up a familiar application to help color his imagination. Without much ceremony, he pushed his sweats down just enough to fit his hand down his underwear. He would do this quickly, he decided; fast and hard, to put him to sleep sooner rather than later. 

It didn't take long to feel himself harden in his grasp, photos and videos of various couples wrapped around one another and those in solo situations fueling his head. His breathing grew heavy in his chest, mouth falling open as a particularly titillating video of a woman with her hands between her legs filled his screen. 

With the audio still playing, Harry's head fell back against the pillows. His eyes fell closed, a sigh leaving his lips. Pulling his hand from his length, he brought the appendage to his mouth before spitting against his palm. With his hand now slick, the wet pumps of his fist along his cock now filled the air. His toes curled in his sheets, free hand tightly gripping his phone. 

While it wasn't something he wanted to do, it was terribly easy to let his mind wander to the pretty girl that had left him home alone tonight. The fit of her dress had been hard enough to process when he was clear minded, now that was a nearly impossible task. 

The dress was new, a silky piece with embroidered flowers and thick straps cuffing her shoulders. It was tight along the bodice, cupping her breasts and curve of her waist before flaring out along her hips. The hem cut off at the mid of her thigh, leaving the length of her legs on display down to the comfortable shoes she chose for the night. (The high heels from the weekend prior had been shoved to the back of her closet for the time being, the blisters on her feet enough to have her avoiding them at the moment). 

It was a terrible, horrible, repulsive thought to have about his roommate, but Harry knew that all it would have taken was a bend of her hips and he would have seen the curve of her bottom. If he had been bold enough to look, he was sure he would have caught a glance down the bodice of her dress when she came to him to say goodbye for the night. 

His cock twitched at the reminder of her body pressed against him when she hugged him goodbye. If he was a different man and they were in a different situation, he would have grabbed her hips and held her close. He would have found the line of her panties through her dress, felt the curve of her bottom over the silk. 

He liked to imagine she would hold him back, that she would lean into the angles and muscles of his body. He could see her tipping her head, leaving him the room to drop his lips over the curve of her neck and shelf of her collarbone. 

He liked to imagine her wanting him back. That he would be able to satisfy her and take her expertly, tying her to him as he pushed his hand between her legs—or, god, his head—and brought her to the edge. What he wouldn't give to know what the melody of her voice sounded like when steeped in pleasure.

Harry pumped his hand that much harder along his length, the put of his stomach growing tight like the thick bands of muscles on his thighs. His breathing was harsh, wheezing out against his clenched teeth. 

"Fuck," he panted, hips bucking against his hand when he thought of what could have happened had he pushed (Y/N)'s dress up to her middle. Precum dribbled from his tip, streaking down to his shaft and mixing with the slick of his spit. 

He was going to cum, he could feel it. His muscles were bunched tight, eyes screwed shut with his own personal pornography projected against his eyelids. 

"Harry, are you awa—Oh! Oh my god, bye!" 

In a second, Harry snapped from the throes of pleasure just to see the tail-end of (Y/N)'s silken dress flashing out of his doorway. Behind her, his door slammed shut, cutting her words in half. 

She wasn't supposed to be home. She was supposed to be spending the night at Rue's house. What was she doing here? 

Oh, god—fuck—she's home. (Y/N) came home and saw him jerking himself off to the thought of her. Shit, fuck, shit.

His movements were fumbling and disjointed as he pulled his pants back up and attempted to wipe his hand of the evidence against a dirty t-shirt that should have been in his hamper. Jesus Christ, what the fuck was he thinking? He was so lost in his head, he didn't even hear the door open? Didn't hear her footsteps stomping up the stairs?

Was he supposed to talk to her? Or were they supposed to avoid each other until someone inevitably broke the lease and they never spoke to one another ever again? 

The latter option hurt his chest, but the former cast his body in a sweat. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, eyes trained on the floor beneath his feet. 

Why couldn't he have just gone to sleep? Why did he have to take that nap and leave him thinking he needed to tire himself out? Why did this have to happen?

Did she know he was thinking of her? He wasn't entirely mindful of his words, had he let out a call of her name? How long had she been home before she barged in?

Harry hung his head, shaking his head as he attempted to spool himself back in. If not for the fact that he was concerned about the fact she'd made her way home instead of staying with her friends, he's sure he would have spent the entire night hiding in his home. But, unfortunately, his heart still beat for her and he needed to know that she was okay, at the very least. 

Summoning the courage, Harry stood from his seat at the edge of her bed, his hands shaking before curling into fists. They were best friends—she'd seen him with his head hung over the toilet with chunks being hurled from his mouth, with greasy limp hair until he figured out the right products for his strands, the puffy-eyed, snot-nosed sobs he let out when he failed his first mid-term their entry year of university. There were few more embarrassing situations to be found in.

He was telling himself that, anyway. 

Steeling himself, Harry moved to push open his door and seek out (Y/N) only to be stopped in his tracks when he ran right into her. 

"Harry!" she bubbled, wobbling in her spot as she reached out to grab his arms. She steadied herself with the grip. "Are you okay? Sorry, I didn't know you were there." 

It was then that he noticed the slur to her words. Her eyes, ever pretty and with only remnants of mascara remaining, were glassy. More than being startled as she ran into him, she had reached for him to keep her steady on her feet. She smelled of perfume, a dark bar's worth of smoke and cologne, and the sting of alcohol. 

"'M alright," he mumbled, reaching for her arm across his chest as he scrutinized "Are you?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, blinking up at him, "Are you?" 

A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. She almost made it easy for him to forget what had happened just moments earlier. "'M alright," he repeated, "I didn't know y'were coming home tonight." 

"Oh yeah. I was supposed to," she sighed as if there was a length of story behind her words, "But, Rue got busy, so Kim said I could stay at hers, but honestly I just wanted to come back to you. I felt bad leaving you to have dinner by yourself, and I missed you so I just had her boyfriend drop me off here." 

God, had his blunder even happened? Hearing her say I missed you so flippantly all while clutching his arms and blinking right up at him was enough to bring him to his knees. She wasn't acting at all like she'd just walked in on his private moment. 

"Oh," he sounded, finding his words, "I hope I didn't make y'feel like y'needed to come back." 

She shook her head before he even finished talking. "No, no, no. I wanted to come home—I wanted to be with you. I wish you'd come out with us sometime, you'd have so much fun." 

While Harry was reeling over her words, the sentiments she was sharing so freely, (Y/N) traipsed past him. The ghost of her grip on his arms stuck around in the moments after she left him behind to approach his bed. He turned to face her with his lips rolled between his teeth in an effort to keep anything embarrassing from spilling off his tongue, only to see her slipping off her shoes. 

She left them in an unceremonious pile by his bed when she caught him looking. "What?" 

"What—um—what are you doing?" He hoped he didn't sound as rude as he did in his head. Truly, he didn't know what she was doing, beginning to shed the night while in his room.

Unabashedly, she looked up at him with a flutter of her lashes. "Can I stay here with you? Like a sleepover?" 

His heart stopped in his chest only to leap up to the base of his throat. "A sleepover?" 

"Yeah," she sighed, pulling at the hem of her dress, "Is that okay?" 

Logically, with how intoxicated she was, it was the safer option to keep her with him tonight. In case anything were to happen, of course. 

(There was everything else bubbling in his stomach, too. All the bubbles popping with whispers urging him on to keep her just where she was amongst all of his things, where he can take care of her.)

"Y'can stay," he murmured, offering a soft smile as he gazed at her. "Do y'want me to grab some clothes for you?" 

"Sure," she chirped, already blindly dealing with her hair, "Thank you, Harry." 

He gave her another smile before he left towards her bedroom a floor below. Somehow, within the confines of his home, fresh air entered his lungs and cleared his middled head. Being around her right now was making Harry feel just as drunk as she actually was. 

Maybe she hadn't seen what he was doing when she walked in? While he couldn't imagine he wasn't being completely obvious with his hand at his groin and head thrown back, she may have been too drunk to realize what he was doing. Otherwise, Harry just couldn't fathom how he was being so normal afterwards—asking if she could have a sleepover in his room, even. 

Pulling out a set of pajamas from the stack of laundry on the end of her bed, Harry tried not to dwell as he started back up the stairs to his bedroom. If she didn't want to talk about it, neither would he. (If he had any luck on his side, she might not even remember what she may or may not have seen. The memory might be one of the few that went fuzzy for her). 

Heading back into his bedroom, (Y/N) was sat crossed legged on his bed, eyes decidedly much heavier than when he had left her. Her hair was now tied up and out of the way of her face, shoes and socks in a messy pile on his floor. She perked up when he entered, eyes brightening though still glassy and tired. 

"You're back! You were gone for so long, I was scared you forgot I was home." 

Harry could only laugh at her declaration. How could he ever forget about her, let alone when she was asking to spend the night in his bed? 

"Couldn't forget about you," he admitted, his smile soft as he dropped his eyes from hers, "I hope these are alright to sleep in." 

He passed off the sleep clothes he picked for her, watching as she unfurled the pieces without even looking at them. "They're perfect, H. Thank you so much." 

Standing up from her spot on his bed, she didn't hesitate before wrapping him in a hug. Harry stood motionless for a brief moment, attempting to process the affection. All while clad in the tiny dress he had just been fantasizing about barely twenty minutes prior, the full of her soft body was pressed against his. 

Would he ever not react like a teenager with a crush when it came to her? How much longer would he feel with the racing heart and sweaty palms until his instincts caught up with the reality of her disinterest in him in that way?

Reciprocating her hold, Harry hugged (Y/N) to his chest. She all but melted into him, the effect of the alcohol in her system weighing her down (though he would like to imagine it was because she liked holding him as much as he did her). He was sure she could feel the rapid beat of his heart under her cheek—hopefully a distraction from the touch of his unsure hands hovering across her back. 

"You're so warm," she mumbled against the material of his shirt, the words slurred and nearly unintelligible. "You should've come out with me tonight; I forgot my jacket but I would have at least had you." 

Harry's fingers tensed over her back. The pumps of his heart throbbed down to his fingertips, his lashes fluttering in a blink. She had to stop talking like that; he was already well into losing his mind over her, there was no need to keep piling it on. 

"Sorry," he breathed, the word feeling lame as it fell from his tongue. 

He made no move to recoil from her until she did, making the first move to unwrap her arms from around his middle. His eyes followed her as she focused then on trudging to his bathroom and dressing for the night. She tossed a noncommittal promise to be right back over her shoulder before disappearing behind his bathroom door. 

Left alone, Harry sat on the edge of his bed. He looked at the floor to where her mess of discarded accessories lay in a rumpled pile, a visible cue of her presence. 

She'd never asked to stay in his bedroom like this before. Even on other nights where she clamored home with alcohol in her blood, she'd never stumbled into his room with the intention of having a "sleepover" with him. 

But, of course, the one night she does, is when she walks in on him with his hand down his pants.

The reminder of the moment had a heavy sigh heaving his chest. He wished he was just as drunk as (Y/N), that way he had a chance of possibly forgetting the incident in the morning. Instead, he had a feeling he was going to be dwelling on it for at least another week, if not more. On the plus side, it didn't appear she had any intention of talking to him about it. 

In a clumsy string of movements, (Y/N) made her entrance back into his bedroom with a strong swing of the door. Her clothing was rumpled as she padded across the floor on bare feet. She only barely acknowledged him before she threw herself onto his bed. 

Harry let out a breathy laugh. "Do y'want anything to drink or eat before y'fall asleep?" 

"No," she moaned, wriggling her way into his bedding. "Tired." 

"Do y'need to take off your makeup?" he pressed, standing to help her adjust the layers of sheets and comforter over her form.

"I already did," she countered, tugging the bedding up to her chin as she gazed up at him. Truthfully, he couldn't tell if she really did remove her makeup given the shadows still around her eyes, but if that's the story she was going with, he wasn't arguing. 

"Alright," he sighed, knotting his hands together as he stood beside his bed as if it wasn't his own, "Y'really want to have a sleepover tonight?" 

(Y/N) didn't even blink before she was nodding her head. "Yeah. Your bed is bigger than mine." 

Harry hummed, now seeing the root of her new fascination with spending the night with him. "And y'want me to stay with you?" he asked, wanting to ensure they were both on the same page. 

"Duh," she laughed, turning until she was comfortable with her head on the pillow he'd just been laying against. "Lay down, we're supposed to talk before we fall asleep like a real sleepover." 

While he found humor in the whole situation, his hands still held a slight tremor as he turned down his side—his side—of the bed. 

Was this how he was supposed to do this? How did one share a bed? Other than true sleepovers as a kid, where he and friends would squeeze into beds too small after staying up way too late, there was never a time he'd shared a bed with another. Especially not so with someone he held... extra feelings for. Feelings that he hadn't quite shaken if the way his briefs were just a touch tighter than they should be was anything to go by. 

Working on autopilot, Harry slid into bed. He could feel the dip in the mattress from (Y/N)'s body, a certain warmth spreading across his sheets he'd never experienced before. The scent of her night still clung to her, though now the fragrance of fresh sheets and Harry's own cologne swirled between them. Sleepy blinks were offered to him as he stiffly laid among his bedding, (Y/N)'s tired eyes trained on him.

He swallowed, feeling the weight of her attention on him. "What are y'th—" 

His line of questioning was cut off when (Y/N) sloppily rolled towards him, lying flush against the line of his body. She molded herself to him with a sigh, her head snuggled into the cove underneath his chin. 

"What did you do tonight?" were her mumbled words, slurred and fuzzy against his neck. 

Harry, stunned for the moment, laid still. Those moments with her head laying on his lap or a press of their shoulders together could do nothing to prepare him for this. (Y/N)'s slight shuffle against him was enough to knock him back to earth, his limbs carefully laying around her in a delicate hold. 

"Um, what?" Harry asked, mind having been wiped of the last handful of minutes. 

"What did you do while I was gone?" 

"Oh," he sounded, aware of the way his arm fell across the curve of her waist and smooth planes of her back he could feel through her top, "Nothing really; jus' took a nap and cleaned the kitchen. Nothing exciting—not like you, it sounds like." 

(Y/N) hummed from her hiding place in his neck. "Nothing exciting at all?" she sang, a teasing lilt to her drunken voice. 

Harry swallowed. She wasn't hinting at anything in particular, right? 

"I mean, I started a new book before I took m'nap," he hedged, eyes stuck on the concert poster he had pasted to his wall. "But that's really it." 

She shifted in his hold, pulling out of his arms just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were still swimming and glossy, but she didn't shy away from his gaze. There was a small tick at the corner of her lips.

"Are we not going to talk about it? Because we don't have to, I just want to know." 

His muscles wound tight as he listened to her. She kept her voice decidedly quiet, as if there was anyone else around that could overhear. 

Were they going to talk about it? That wasn't really a decision Harry wanted to make, but he couldn't turn away the option now that it was served up to him. 

"Um," he fumbled, his mouth lagging behind his racing mind, "I—Uh—I... 'M sorry." 

Canting her head, (Y/N) blinked at him. "Sorry?" 

His throat bobbed, tongue suddenly too thick in his mouth. "'M sorry, I... I didn't know y'were coming home, I wouldn't have... you know. I didn't mean for you to see or... hear." 

Please god, he hoped she hadn't heard a thing—that he said or thought. 

(Y/N)'s features cracked into a smile when she finally processed what he'd said. It only took a moment for that smile to bloom into a peal of laughter. 

"Harry, it's not that serious," she got out in-between giggles, "You didn't do anything wrong—it's not like I don't think you do that kind of stuff. I just didn't know if we were going to ignore that I walked in or if we were going to laugh about it. You're not supposed to be sorry for anything; I should have knocked, anyway." 

Harry's mouth went dry. He wasn't sure what kind of reaction this was. Was this only because of the vodka in her system? Or was she really this comfortable with the events of the evening? If it were the other way around, Harry didn't think he would be able to speak let alone laugh at the situation for at least a whole week. 

(Though that could be entirely attributed to the fact that he had that thorny crush on her stuck to the chambers of his heart). 

The lump in his throat cracked and allowed a breathy laugh to come through after a heartbeat. Maybe she was right, it wasn't that serious. It's not like she could have known he was thinking about her. They were both adults, people who were more than able and accustomed to pleasuring their bodies—there was no reason to be weird about it if she wasn't going to be. 

"Jus', should have locked m'door at least," he laughed, joining her as he sagged into the mattress. 

"Yeah," she pressed, settling against him once more now that the seal was broken between them, "I always lock my door, you're too brave." 

He hoped she didn't notice the way his hands pulsed when she so casually brought up her own moments in her bedroom. He wasn't strong enough to broach that subject just yet. 

"Maybe," he agreed, "Sorry, anyway. Not the nicest thing to come home to, that's for sure." 

"I mean," (Y/N) started, her voice breathy as she sunk into his arms, "It wasn't that bad. More embarrassing for you than anything else, I bet." 

The laughter from his chest died down then. His brain caught on her words. "Not that bad?" he parroted, unsure of what or why he was even asking. 

"I mean, you're cute, H. You know that," she said oh-so casually. "I feel bad I walked in and scared you, but I can't act like it was the absolute worst moment of my life or something." She spoke with amusement, a touch of laughter carrying out her words as if this was all so easy. 

"Oh," Harry started, swallowing around his dry throat, "Y'think 'm cute?" 

She rolled into him, tucking herself against him once more. Harry didn't doubt that she was well acquainted with the pounding of his pulse at this point. "Of course I do, you know that. You're, like, the cutest guy I know. I mean," she sighed, voice slurring even more with the dredges of sleep tugging at her words, "you didn't have to stop earlier, if you didn't want to. I could've helped." 

Harry's body stopped working in that moment. Time was moving too fast around him while he was seemingly stuck in that moment. 

What? Is that a normal thing to say? Is this what happens when you share a bed with someone, even if they were only a friend?

His palms grew clammy. "What do you mean?" 

"You know," she yawned, "Just... I know you don't go on dates or bring anyone home or anything, so I could help you if you ever wanted. You're too cute to be by yourself, H." 

What the fuck? What was even happening at the moment? Was he delusional? Or dreaming so intensely he couldn't be sure if it was real or not? But he swore, crossing his heart and all, that this was real and completely happening all while (Y/N) was tucked in his arms with her mouth hovering by his throat. 

And she was offering to jerk him off sometime. Because he was too cute to do it by himself. 

What the fuck? 

"(Y/N)?" 

Harry received no answer. Her chest pressed against his and receded in even paces, puffs of air fanning across the slope of his neck. 

Staring once more at the poster on his wall, Harry didn't feel a single sleepy bone in his body. If he had thought he was restless before, there was no way he was getting any sleep tonight. 

—————

Exhaustion shackled his limbs as Harry moved through the kitchen. Just as he figured, there wasn't more than an hour of sleep in his system, his mind running too fast to allow him any kind of relaxation. Not when there was the extra presence in his bed. 

By the time the sun cracked through his curtains and (Y/N) had rolled to show her back to him, Harry forced himself out of bed. He doubted she was going to have an easy wakeup after the night she'd had, and he was already in shambles, making breakfast essential for the both of them to get through the morning hours. 

That didn't make it any easier, though. A large part of him wanted to stay tucked amongst his sheets, cozy and warm with the best view he could imagine available just before him. Despite that urge, a smaller part of him was still drenched in the complication that came with the slurred words she offered just before dozing off. 

First of all, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be embarrassed that she noticed he'd never really dated before and definitely never brought home anyone. It was bad enough that he was well aware of his lack of dating and sex life, he wasn't comforted at the idea of (Y/N) taking note. Second, what did it even mean to be too cute to be by himself? It brought a flush to his cheeks, the implication. But, was it really a compliment to be cute? He'd never heard (Y/N) describe any of the people she was interested in as cute; they were always pretty, and glowing, and handsome, and—of course—hot as fuck. 

Harry didn't want to know where he placed on her scale of attractiveness. 

Then, lest he forget, there was the whole offer of her taking care of him. If he ever wanted, of course. 

Even just the memory of her words was enough to have his limbs going robotic as he moved through the kitchen. He was going to burn his croissant if he wasn't careful. It was enough to even overshadow the moment she had walked in on him, it was that monumental to him.

But, Harry had a feeling that she wasn't going to remember much of the night before, let alone a throwaway comment right before falling asleep. And that was going to be better for the both of them.

Once he had twin plates of scrambled eggs with cheese, buttery croissants, and cut up fruit, he was daring to step back up the stairs to his bedroom. He felt like an intruder, knowing (Y/N) was still asleep, wrapped up in his bedding. Even if it was to wake her for breakfast, he felt reluctant to pull her from much needed rest.

Though, as soon as he pushed open the door, Harry realized he wasn't going to have to worry about waking her up. Not when she was already looking at him, blinking the sleep out of her eyes with the creases of his pillow etched in her cheek.

"Harry," she sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at her eye, "You're awake." 

"You're awake," he parroted, "I didn't think I'd see y'until this afternoon." 

She nodded absently, missing the amusement in his voice. "Me neither. Where did you go? I thought you'd left me here." 

It was the pout on her face and the downward lilting of her voice that had him taking a step towards his bed. "'M sorry," he murmured, feeling guilt pinch at his heart, "I was jus' downstairs making dinner. I was about to come get you and see if y'were hungry." 

"Breakfast?" she chirped, waking up that much more at the offer of food. 

"Eggs and those croissants," he confirmed, words coming out in a song as he tempted her with the offer. 

"That sounds so good, thank you," she muttered, voice genuinely warm as her gaze wrapped around him from across the room, "Will you come lay with me for a few more minutes, though? I don't want to get up yet." 

"I can bring your plate up here, if y'want," Harry offered, though they both saw him taking those quiet steps towards her.

(Y/N) simply shook her head. "Just you." 

Those two syllables launched him back to the night prior, where she couldn't continue her night without telling him just how much she had wanted only him through her night of bar hopping. Just him—the one on her mind, supposedly. He was too cute to be by himself.

Harry didn't respond before he was slipping into bed beside her, taking up the dented spot where his body had laid stiffly the night before. She took her spot against his form wordlessly, as if it were a part of the norm to snuggle up to him in the morning. 

"Thank you for letting me sleep in here last night," (Y/N) murmured, her chest expanding against his as she peered up at him through her lashes, "I know I was kind of a mess."

"No, no," he shook his head, "Y'were jus' fine. 'M happy y'came home instead of staying somewhere y'didn't want to." 

A small peal of laughter fanned across his skin. "I think everyone was getting annoyed anyway," she started, "I kept telling them that I shouldn't have left you home alone, so I think they were ready for me to just go back." 

Harry could feel his skin going warm. With his eyes closed, he attempted to keep his breathing from hitching. She was going to kill him one of these days. 

"Y'dont' have to worry about me when y'go out, (Y/N)," he insisted, voice as quiet as the grazing of his hands across her back. "'M fine, you go have fun." 

If not for the fact he was hyper aware of her body and just how close she was, he doubted he would have noticed the small shift she made across the sheets to land further in his arms. 

"You're just," she sighed, pausing between her words, "I don't want you to feel left behind or lonely. You're a good friend and you deserve to have fun and feel good." 

Her proposition that he had pushed to the back of his mind was suddenly roped right to the front. Of course, there was the damper of being such a good friend to her that she felt this way, but there was the rest of the statement to contend with first. 

"I—um—'M fine, (Y/N). Really. 'M actually pretty good company, if y'ask me." He had hoped she would join him when he let out a breathy laugh, but he made the only sound in the room. 

The pause lasted just long enough Harry wondered if (Y/N) had fallen asleep again before he heard her voice: 

"Like last night?" His heart all but stopped in his chest. For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, time seemed to stand still while everything in his body went into overdrive. 

She wasn't supposed to remember that. She was supposed to be too plastered to remember anything, let alone the one moment with her he's ever regretted. What was he supposed to say to her? Was she teasing him, was he disgusted now that she was sober enough to have an opinion, was this one big joke that he was going to hav—

"(Y/N), I—" He started unraveling himself from her before she popped up with wide eyes. 

"No, no, I'm sorry," she rushed out, "That wasn't—I'm not trying to—I'm not making fun of you or, I don't know. I just mean..." She looked at him with uncertain crinkles by her eyes, her lips pursed as if she wanted to speak but had to hold back. 

"'M fine," he started again, sitting up amongst the rumpled bedding, "'M sorry if I ma—" 

"Do you remember what I said last night?" 

As soon as the question tumbled from her lips, Harry swore the room became five degrees hotter. 

"Do you remember?" he attempted to joke, though neither of them cracked a smile. 

She gave a nod. "About... you know. I could... help, if you wanted. So you're not by yourself." 

His mouth ran dry. There was much more power to the offer in the light of the morning with (Y/N)'s clear eyes directed to him. There was no slur of alcohol to her voice or liquid to her bones. 

She was entirely serious. So serious, she was asking him again. 

"You don't have to do that, (Y/N)," he murmured, dropping his gaze from hers. This was too much, to have to decline her—decline her pity offer after walking in on him with his hand down his pants the night before. "Really, 'm alright. I have no problem being... by myself." 

(Y/N) looked away with her lips rolled between her teeth. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. You deserve someone to look after you the way you look after me." 

"I don't think I look after you quite like that, though," he tired again, his light-hearted tone attempting to ease the tension. (Y/N) didn't grab the lifeline. 

"At least let me set you up with someone then?" (Y/N) offered this time, "I want you to meet someone you care about, then. At the very least, then we could double date." 

"I really... I don't want anyone. I'm okay." Anyone, but her was the right thing to say, but that wasn't something he was willing to admit at the moment. 

"There's this girl I know, though," she chattered off, suddenly coming to life, "You would really get along with her, H. She's super pretty, she's tall, and I don't think she likes Italian food, but we could work on—"

 "'M really okay, ser—" 

"No, H, she always loves reading—it's actually kind of funny how much she talks about all these books and—" 

Harry felt his stomach beginning to twist and turn. She could be the nicest woman in the world, this friend of hers. But there were many reasons why he was never going to take (Y/N) up on this offer. 

Starting with the fact that the one girl he had his eye on was right in front of him, and ending with the glaring truth of his virginity. He doubted (Y/N) or any of her friends like her were going to be very invested in that.

"And, not to get gross, but she's super hot. Like her body, H, you have to see her—"

"I'm a virgin." 

A flush ran up his skin, blooming his veins and reddening his skin. Why did he say that? Why did he share that? Is he suddenly an idiot? Was he now lacking a verbal filter and had to say everything that came to mind?

At the very least, (Y/N) finally stopped. The many wonderful and hot attributes of her friend had stopped. There was only a blanket of silence floating between them now. 

His heartbeat sounded in his ears before (Y/N) had any kind of reaction

"Oh," was all that fell from her lips. 

Peeking through his lashes, he was waiting for her to recoil. To look at him a little funny—the way the few that had learned that information looked at him. That moment of questioning how someone could have avoided sex (as if that was what he was up to), then wondering if there was something wrong with him, if there was something hiding under his skin that he was unwilling to share. Most people tried to recover as quickly as they could, brightening and telling him that it was alright. Plenty of people were waiting until marriage, they couldn't blame him of course! 

It was an uncomfortable conversation, one Harry let the other party lead. He never really felt like getting into the why's and the moments that he decided to turn down a potential warm bed. Or why it wasn't within his capabilities to have sex outside of a relationship with trust in the mix, or the fact that he'd never been in a relationship that met those qualifications. 

But, (Y/N) didn't do that. She looked at him with appraising eyes, not in search of something wrong. She looked at him like there was so much to be seen, to the point she couldn't believe it just because he was... him. 

"I didn't know that," she muttered, canting her head, "I always just kind of figured that you weren't." Her eyes widened then. "Wait, I've said so many things, why did you never correct me?"

Harry shrugged, the sheets rustling around him. "I know 's not... normal, so I jus' don't really talk about it. 'S easier if I jus' let y'assume." 

Her expression fell a little then. "I hope I never made you feel like you couldn't tell me," her eyes were soft as she gazed at him, "You know it didn't change anything to me, right?" 

A small smile cracked his lips. "Thanks."

She relaxed a touch then, her muscles untensing from the tension he injected with his admission. "Is it weird to ask you why? Like, why you've waited and everything?" 

"I wouldn't really say I've waited," he clarified, "I jus'... I've met people I wanted to be with and all of that, and I've had opportunities but I didn't take them." He paused, rolling his lips between his teeth; this was one of the harder bits to admit. It sounded silly even to his own ears, even if it was something he believed in. "I've never had anyone I trusted enough to share that... experience with. So I've just never." 

(Y/N) listened intently, eyes clear with a cant to her head. God, even with the harsh beating of his heart as he exhumed his secrets, she really was the absolute prettiest. 

"I get it," she muttered, "It's easier to wait than to spend the rest of your life regretting it." 

"Exactly," he exaggeratedly murmured, "'S like y'live in m'head, (Y/N)." 

His attempt at joking was enough to pull a small laugh from her chest. (Y/N) relaxed further into his bed, carving a dent into his mattress just at his side. Finally, that comfortable silence he lived in with her returned. 

He couldn't believe he'd been so flighty about this whole thing. This wasn't one of the things he needed to be nervous about, not compared to what she had walked into last night. And even that incident was less earth shattering than he made it out to be. 

(Y/N)'s tone was much less trepidatious when she spoke again, a decided difference than even a moment before. "Have you done anything else, though? Or have you waited for the whole thing?" 

"Haven't done anything," he responded, with a heaving sigh, "'M waiting on the whole experience I guess." 

"With someone you trust." 

A small smile bloomed over his features. "With someone I trust." 

A beat of silence passed between them. (Y/N) fiddled with the comforter tangled at her waist. "Can I ask you one more thing?" 

Harry hummed an acknowledgement. He should have agreed to get back into bed with her, he was beginning to consider leaving breakfast for this afternoon in favor of a quick nap. 

"Do you trust me?" 

It was the way she said it less than the actual words she said that had a pang echoing through Harry's chest. Of course, he trusted her; she was his best friend. Though, Harry doubted that was what she was trying to get at.

He gave a small confirmation in the form of a quiet yes. 

(Y/N) twisted in the sheets, looking up at him with clear eyes. Her lips glistened, the tip of her tongue having grazed over the pillows. "I know you said you're waiting and everything, but if you wanted to... change that, and you trust me...we could do whatever you wanted." 

As startling as the proposition was last night, this one inspired a twist in his stomach. This wasn't a drunken idea gone rogue. She was looking at him with a steady gaze and lips worried between her teeth. She was serious. She wanted to "do whatever" he wanted. With him. 

Despite there being no visible traces of pity on (Y/N)'s face, he truly could barely fathom the idea of her offering herself up to him so willingly. Especially after learning that there would be little he could offer in return—his skills were more than lacking. 

"(Y/N), you don't want to do that," he started, "'M alright, I d—" 

"I do," she cut him off, the words tumbling from her mouth without thought, "I do want to, I mean. You know I care about you right, Harry?" 

His mouth ran dry. "I know." 

A small smile touched her mouth. "You don't have to, obviously. I just wanted you to know that if you ever don't want to wait or kind of just want to get the pressure out of the way, I'm here."

 Was Harry going to explode? Was he going to flick through the room like a balloon deflating of helium? Or was his stomach going to swallow him whole and leave behind only the sticky tar of his feelings? 

And she was being so casual about it. She offered it as if there was no gravity to her words. 

"You don't have to say anything, though. Just remember that," she said with a soft smile, sitting up in bed with eyes on the door, "You said break—" 

"I want to." 

As soon as the declaration choked out of his throat, Harry wanted to cringe. He wanted to retract every breath, every thought, every twist of his tongue against his teeth that brought him here. Sure, she was offering, but there was such a thing as being over eager.

(Y/N) paused, glancing back to him. A light graced the hue of her irises. 

"Really?" 

He didn't trust himself to say another word. Harry only nodded. 

"You don't want to wait, anymore?" she prodded, forgetting the cracked door and the food downstairs. 

Now wasn't the time to give her the full list of why this exact moment was a dream come true (just short of having her as his girlfriend and holding her hand as they went to the movies), but she had offered a few good points. 

"I mean," he started, swallowing as his eyes dropped to the tip of her nose in avoidance of her eyes, "I do trust you. If there's anyone I know I wouldn't regret sharing this with, 's you." 

"I suppose we are best friends," (Y/N) added, layering her voice with a smile, "But, you're sure?" 

"I am," he said without a moment of hesitation, "Maybe jus' not... everything? I think that might be a bit much for me." 

"Of course, of course," she rushed out, waving her hands as if to wipe the pressure out of the air, "We'll only do what you want." 

Maybe Harry was a bit too much of an open book, unable to truly hide whatever it was that was running through his head, but he couldn't help the way his eyes immediately dropped to her hands. 

Harry knew just how soft her hands were. He'd seen the hand creams she used every night, and felt the plush skin every time they grazed hands or she made the dangerous decision of just laying a hand on his arm every time he made her laugh just a little too much. There was even once, way back when they'd first started becoming friends, that she had him to compare hand sizes. Even now, he vividly remembered just how soft her palm was against his, the stretch of her fingers that didn't reach up to the tips of his own. It was a memory he held onto and one he couldn't get out of his head at that moment. 

He'd thought more than once what it would be like to have her hand on him instead of his own between the sheets. What the visual of her pretty manicured nails, digits of her fingers, the softness of her palm would look like fisted around his length. He didn't have to know to be certain he wouldn't last very long if he ever had the chance to find out. 

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the wide smile mold (Y/N)'s features. 

"Really?" she coyly asked, stretching out her fingers from the cover of her sleeves. 

"Hm?" he hummed, forcing his eyes back to her own. 

A peal of laughter fell from her lips as she crawled back to her spot at his side. "My hands. That's all you want?" 

His skin felt flush as he nodded, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth. "Only if you want." 

She hovered above him, the tips of her hair hanging around them like a curtain. She looked like a dream there, only slats of light working across her face. Shadows sliced over her cheekbones and the length of her lashes with the pretty color of her eyes gleaming in the sun and the curve of her lips highlighted. 

He must be dreaming, but he was never this anxious in his dreams. Especially not one so lovely. 

"No one's ever done that for you before?" she asked, taking up a spot on the mattress at his side with her eyes grazing over his features. 

"Never," he confirmed, feeling his stomach stir at the feel of the heat of her body at his side. 

God was this really about to happen? 

"You're okay with me being the first?" Her voice suddenly had dropped a few octaves, a murmur in the air between them. 

He didn't have to think before he nodded. "I want you to be the first." 

Her eyes were bright, sparkling in the slat of light shining through her hair. "Right now?"

"Right now." 

She looked entirely too gorgeous to be normal when she smiled at him. "Just show me what you like, then. I'm all yours." 

His stiffening cock jumped at her words. She needed to stop talking like that if she didn't want him to embarrass himself. 

With that, (Y/N) wiggled her hand under his own on his abdomen, amusement in her eyes. Harry felt his breathing hitch at the simple touch. Just as soft as he thought. 

In an effort to preserve some semblance of his sanity, he closed his eyes before wrapping the length of his fingers around her hand. It was a moment, a full heartbeat pounding through his ears, before he pulsed his hand around hers in an affectionate squeeze and traced her hand down his middle. 

He could feel the tense of his muscles under his shirt, his legs spreading just that much wider. The ghost of her touch was a stark reminder that he never finished the job last night. 

Amongst his rumpled bed sheets, Harry couldn't be sure that this was even real life. Not that he spent any specific amount of time picturing what this first time would be like, but he could admit that he never really thought it would be like this. Not in sweatpants that had a stain from the eggs he had scrambled only twenty minutes prior. Not with his hand being the guiding force down to the waist of his bottoms. Not with (Y/N).

His cock stirred when their joined hands reached the elastic band of his sweatpants. Despite not even feeling her bare skin on his, goosebumps were raised. Was he going to embarrass himself by finishing within seconds? Harry had a feeling that was going to be the scenario at hand. 

(Y/N) wiggled her hand out from under his, hooking her fingers in the waist under her own volition. "You're still alright? With all of this?" 

"Yeah," Harry breathed out, his voice a hair above a whisper in hopes of disguising the tremor. 

"Okay," she said, looking up at him for a brief moment with a reassuring smile, "If you don't want to anymore, though, just let me know. We'll have breakfast and pretend nothing happened." 

His heartbeat sped up at her declaration. He knew he could trust her—with his body, with his delicate feelings, with his life, even. 

Harry didn't move his eyes from her even when she directed her attention to her hand. He watched her as she pushed his sweatpants down, the band falling just far enough down to hit the end of his boxer-briefs. His mouth fell open as he attempted to gain any insight into what she might be thinking, this being the first time he'd ever been this exposed to anyone before. Even with the layer of his underwear on, he'd never been in front of anyone in an undergarment like this. 

(Y/N) didn't give much away, only the cautious pace of her movements indicated the gravity of this moment. She skated her palm over the jut of his hip, easing him into the feel of her touch; he doubted she missed the way his cock jumped. His body reacted readily to each of her touches: goosebumps on his skin, bunched muscles in his abdomen, lungs squeezing in his chest, and the bruising hold of his teeth over his bottom lip. 

His hip was only the first step before she continued her path. She grazed the top of his thigh, nails denting into his skin in gentle pressures. His breath caught when she touched the lump of his cock, enough so that his chest shuddered. She lingered there, going so far as to give a slight squeeze, only causing him to harden more in her grip.

"I'm going to put my hand underneath, okay?" (Y/N) shared, voice quiet before he felt the first touch of her fingertips. 

"Okay," he answered involuntarily, tongue thick in his mouth. He was so gone for her in the moment, it was hard to think straight.

Harry lifted his hips to help her pull down his briefs, leaving them bunched at the mid of his thighs. His cock bobbed free, flushed and ruddy already. He doubted any other person in the world would have gained a reaction like this one. 

This time, he caught (Y/N)'s first real reaction. Her eyes widened, grazing over the length of him as she pulled her bottom lip between his teeth. She laid her hand on his abdomen for a beat, absently curling her fingers in the hem of his shirt she'd only pushed up and out of the way.  

Suddenly, she seemingly shook herself out of her head, looking up at Harry with a blink of her eyes. 

"Is it alright if I move a little?" she murmured, "I want to get more comfortable, if that's okay." 

She asked as if he had the power to deny her of anything, especially something so inconsequential. 

As soon as Harry nodded, she shifted at his side. Kicking the comforter off of her legs, she rolled to lay on her side next to him. He instinctively wrapped an arm underneath her, his palm landing just between her shoulder blades. The cuddling felt a little more inconsequential now that she had a hand traveling down his form, even if the feel of her chest pressed against him was enough to have his blood pumping faster. 

Now that she was settled, (Y/N) resumed her ministrations with both of their eyes trained on the movement of her hand. Harry swore it was just the fact that she was looking at him at all that had the blurt of precum seeping from his head, a pearl glistening in the morning light. 

"Just—um—if I do something you like, tell me and I'll try to keep doing it," she spoke distractedly, a slight rasp to her voice he hadn't anticipated in his fantasies. 

His mumble of okay was lost as soon as he saw her bring her hand to her mouth. He watched on as she dragged her tongue across her palm, slicking the skin before wrapping her fist around his base. 

"Oh, fuck," he let out, barely audible over the heavy sigh that carried out the words. He fought to keep his eyes open, spying the way (Y/N)'s features curled into a smile with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

She did a precursory drag of her hand over his length, the pacing slow and aching. Harry could feel every crease and pillow of her palm. God, she was just as soft as he imagined. 

His chest shuddered as he watched her pretty nails sparkling in the light. The pink polish seemingly mimicked the flush of his head, glimmering and sparkling like the slick of her spit over his shaft. If that wasn't bad enough, seeing the fact that her fingers didn't even connect around the girth of him was going to kill him. Were her hands that small or was he bigger than he thought? 

As if hearing his thoughts, a mutter came from (Y/N), "You're so big, H. I had no idea." 

He wanted to say something (was it corny to say "thank you" to something like that?), instead only a rumbling groan came from his chest. The pillows under his head were the perfect cushions when he couldn't handle keeping it up anymore. He was already flushed and warm, muscles too tight for comfort, and stomach tightening into a burn. And she'd barely even started. 

Hearing his reaction was enough to spur her on, dragging her fist over and over his length. Periodically, she swiped her thumb over his crown, spreading the pearls of precum he let out. The slick passes of her hand rang out through his bedroom, competing with the puffs of his heavy breathing as the most erotic sound filtering through his bedroom. 

"Ti-Tighter," he choked out, his arm around her back holding her flush to his side. 

(Y/N) didn't respond, but he immediately felt the vice of her hand tighten that much more around his length. Another string of curses fell from his lips, his throat thick. 

"Is this good?" she asked, turning until she was looking up at him with wide eyes. Her pupils were dilated, darkening the hue of her irises. 

Harry wasn't able to think as he looked at her. She was his dream, the ultimate fantasy. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, her manicured hand squeezing around his cock. And for the first time, he noticed she was rubbing her thighs together as she took care of him. His free hand clutched the mess of his sheets; he wouldn't be surprised if he found holes in the fabric later. 

"So good," Harry breathed, the words broken on his tongue, "So, so good, (Y/N)." 

The smile she gave him was devastating.

Was she crazy? Was she trying to send him over the edge this quickly? He was starting to think so. 

"I was going to ask if you wanted it tighter, but I think we've found it," she teased, entirely too light-hearted for one of the most monumental moments of his life. 

"Y-Yeah," he answered, feeling delirious, "(Y/N), I-I'm close. 'M sorry." 

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, a pinch appearing between her brows, "This is about you, you don't have to be sorry. Cum whenever you want—as long as you feel good, I don't care." 

Her pace was unrelenting, the slap of her hand hitting his base mimicking the beat of his heart. 

"Fuck, (Y/N)," he muttered, voice strained, "Let me—I don't want to make a m-mess on you, I can grab—" 

She shushed him, shaking her head against his chest. "I can handle a little mess, H, it's okay. Stop thinking about me, this is about you." 

Stop thinking about me, as if that were ever an option for him. 

Still the sentiment stuck the same, especially her willingness to allow him to leave any kind of mark on her, including one so primitive. 

He spared a glance down at her. Her features were mostly hidden give the angle and the wisps of her hair in the way, but he could still see the flutter of her lashes as she watched herself getting him off, he could see the pinch of her nose and the gape of her lips. He could see her thighs squeezed tightly together, the shirts covering her modesty turning tight and especially short around her hips. 

God, this was (Y/N) on him. That was her pretty, soft hand on his length. That was her chest pressed to his ribs, only layers away from feeling the heavy beating of his heart. That was her wrapped up in the sheets holding his scent and so eagerly and happily fisting his cock. 

"Shit," he moaned, his voice rumbling and deep as he threw his head back, "(Y/N), 'm cumming, love." 

There was a void in the pit of his stomach that tightened and popped in that moment, unraveling him from the inside out. His balls tightened at his base just before the first rope off is cum spurted from his tip. The mess he'd worried about came to life then, white ribbons projecting as far up to the chest of his top, others dripping down his length and further wetting (Y/N)'s hand. 

Guileless moans echoed from his chest, filling the room as he came for the first time at the hand of another. His body urged him to close his eyes, the visuals before him being too much for his fragile psyche. But Harry fought the instinct. There was no way he was missing even a single frame of this; there was likely never going to be another time he had the privilege of laying with (Y/N) like this, he wasn't going to let anything get in the way. Including his eyelids. 

She didn't slow down as she helped him through the throes, her own breathing turning rough and off-kilter. Her toes curled in her socks, thighs pressed tightly together. 

Harry could have been up in the stratosphere for hours with the way he slumped against the bed exhausted by the time the final drop of his release slithered down his cock. (Y/N) slowed, though she kept going until the final aftershock left his spine and Harry had to pull her hand away before he burst into flames. 

His breathing came in heavy puffs, lips parted and swollen. He didn't need to see himself to know that his cheeks were cherry red with a nose to match, his curls pasted to his temples with sweat, and his eyes just a bit wild. 

Despite pushing her hand out of the way, (Y/N) didn't think before she laced their fingers together. Her touch was a bit sticky now, but there was no way Harry was going to complain. He kept his arm aprons her back tight, fingers denting the soft plane between her shoulder blades. 

He could have laid there for days, feeling the warmth of (Y/N)'s body and her soft hand in his. If not for the fact his cum had begun to dry and go cold. At the very least he needed to clean (Y/N) up—he doubted it was good bedroom etiquette to leave her to clean up after his mess. 

Forcing his eyes open, Harry blindly reached for the tissue box he kept on his bedside table (truthfully, it was for the hay fever he always seemed to have, but the sheets definitely had their convenient uses. Uses he would never admit to, of course). Reluctantly, he peeled (Y/N)'s hand out of his, wiping the streak of his cum marring her palm. 

A breathy giggle fell from her lips. 

"What?" he asked, his voice bubbled and cracked. 

"Nothing," she smiled, "You're just sweet." 

For some odd reason, he flushed harder than he should at something so mundane. 

"Thank you," he peeped, cleaning the stray strings that reached up to her wrist. 

As soon as (Y/N) was free from the traces of him, he took care of his own thighs and the streaks that hit his shirt. The pile of tissues he had to take to the trash made a little mountain on his bedside table by the time he had himself tucked away and sweatpants laying against his hips once more. 

"Um," he started, unsure of what to say after an experience like that. What even qualified as pillow talk, and how did one start it with someone that was just his roommate? "I'll be right back," he settled on, reaching for the mess of tissues, "'M going to cl—" 

"Harry." 

He didn't think before he looked at her. Her eyes were still full of dilated pupils with swollen lips, but the way she looked at him held more tenderness than he thought capable in a moment like this. 

"Stay with me for a second," she requested, her voice a soft coo. 

There wasn't a second thought to be had as he listened to her command. If he thought he was gone for her before, that was nothing compared to the endorphins coursing through him every time she looked at him in that moment. 

(Y/N) didn't wait before she was rolling to wrap him in a hug. It was a bit awkward, the way she had to stretch up to loop her arms around his neck and the way their legs tangled in the sheets. But it was more than worth it. 

Harry had always pictured himself to be the kind of guy that would want a cuddle after sex, but he never could have imagined just how vital this kind of contact would be after something so intense. Despite this being levels below the real act, Harry still clung to her. 

Every time his chest inflated with a whiff of her hair and sullied perfume, she deflated with a breath that fanned across his neck. Kicking free of the sheets, (Y/N) opted instead to curl her legs between his in a welcome tangle. Her warmth radiated through the material of her shirt, a soothing heat that brought him back down to earth. 

He didn't think before the words were being whispered into her hair: "Thank you." 

The smile on her face was audible when she spoke, "You're welcome, Harry." 

He couldn't help but squeeze her that much harder. "I'm sorry I can't offer anything in return," he admitted, a frown etching its way onto her lips, "I-I could try, I jus' don't think I'll be very good or—" 

She shushed him with a press of her lips to his cheek. It was an act that took his already fragile breathing out of pace once more. The tip of her nose grazed his skin, the plush of her lips hitting right where he knew his dimple to be when he smiled. 

"Stop talking," she laughed when she finally—regretfully—pulled away. "This was all about you, Harry. I'm just happy that you felt good, and trusted me enough to let me do this with you. That's all I need." 

He could only hug her harder. 

Harry would have laid there for hours, happily so, even when he could feel the strength returning to his muscles and the beat of his heart leveling out, but (Y/N) was the first to pull away. She pressed another soft kiss to his cheek before she untangled herself from him. 

Her eyes practically glimmered as she looked down at him. "You said there was breakfast downstairs, right?" 

That was enough to get a full laugh echoing from his chest, his lungs squeezing in the best way possible. 

He was never, ever going to be free of this crush on her. Not now. 

—————

pomegranates, an ancient roman wedding gift; the fruit hades offered to persephone to keep her in the underworld. with him.

ahhhhhhh thanl u sm for reading! so sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas or anything please send them in!

[jarofstyles]

Blurb idea: Harry fucking y/n from behind as her boyfriend calls and he fucks her hard through the call

STOP!!! Ok I’ll do it. 💅

Check out our Patreon!

warnings- cheating w h, toxic relationship, anal play, spitting, unprotected sex… Oopsies

——

Y/N knew she shouldn’t be doing it, but she couldn’t resist him.

Whenever Harry came back into town… she ended up in his bed. The curse of how rare good dick actually was and the fact that he was her longest hookup, she melted like butter the second he texted her that he had touched down at the airport.

The last few times had been… particularly interesting. She’d tried to cut it off, she really had. She’d said no, said she couldn’t because her new relationship was still in its seedling stage, but somehow she ended up in the hotel bed with him plowing into her regardless.

Sweat beading on her forehead, she gripped the pillow and moaned into it as she felt him spreading her ass open, watching his cock slide in and out of her. He hated condoms and Y/N hated not feeling him, so as risky as it was… she didn’t ask him to wear one. She knew it could make her a bad person, she hated the guilt she felt afterwards but there was something so explosive and hot about their sex, how he kissed like he was devouring her, that she couldn’t stop herself from taking it.

“There it is. Missed this pussy.” He mumbled. “Creaming all over my cock. Think she missed me too, hm?” His low chuckle had her shuddering, the curve of his cock pressing against her g-spot over and over again. It was hard to speak when he gave it to her, the pure primal need of getting back to one another making them both impatient.

It was only when her phone rang with the contact photo of her current boyfriend on the screen that he slowed his thrusts, a wicked laugh leaving his throat. “Answer it.” He lowered himself down to kiss her shoulder. When she didn’t respond, he bit down on the skin to make her jolt. “Said answer it. Talk to him.”

Y/N was making a mistake, she knew, but in the depth of pleasure she listened. Grabbing her phone and scrambled to answer, putting it against her ear as he pumped shallowly into her.

“H-Hello?” She tried to sound normal but failed. Harry felt his cock pulse as she let her eyes fall closed, the phone resting against the mattress as she pressed her cheek down onto it.

“No, I’m on my run. Remember?” There was no hiding the panting as Harry was cruel, holding on her hip as he pulled her back to fuck herself on his cock. It was a glorious sight, in his opinion, her sweaty hair all over, bare body on display, slick all over his cock from how much she loved him inside of her. It was fucked up to feel this sort of thrill, but it felt like a win. A victory.

He may think he had her, but at the end of the day she would belong to Harry. He got to fuck her bare, she came when he called. Ran to him and got on her knees, loved every second of it. It didn’t matter who she dated- she’d give into him every time.

“I’ll be back…. Um.” It was hard for her to talk considering she felt like all thoughts other than how good Harry’s prick felt balls deep inside of her had escaped her head since he had gotten her naked. “I’ll be back later. I may go see my parents tonight, so we may have to um.. reschedule.”

Harry fucked into her harder, leaning his face down to whisper into her ear. “Good girl. You’re not goin’ anywhere.” It had been a bit too long for him to be satisfied by one simple round. Besides… he liked to get his cuddles in with her. Regardless of them not being together, he knew no one would be better than her.

He could hear Y/N rattle off some day she could see him next, but he wasn’t a fan of her attention being elsewhere for too long. Spreading her ass apart again, he spit thickly over her ass and slicked his thumb over it. She couldn’t help the squeal that left her mouth, wide eyes shooting back at him as she brought her hand to her mouth to gather herself as he pushed it inside. The muffled talking and asking if she was okay could be heard on the other line but Harry didn’t particularly care, pulsing his thumb into the tight hole as her poor cunt wept over his cock. This was the fuck he had been desperately needed. “Say goodbye, baby.” He whispered, squeezing her ass.

“I’m okay!! Just twisted my ankle. Let me c-call you back.” As soon as the call was dropped, she let out a desperate moan and let him give it to her how he wanted.

“Naughty fuckin’ girl. Talking to that poor boy… all while you’re getting this slutty cunt fucked and your ass played with. But you love it.” Releasing his grip, he grabbed a handful of hair to lead her up, arching her back. “You love being a filthy whore f’me. So you’re gonna let me fuck you full of my cum in each one of your holes before I send you back to that pathetic excuse of a man. You get me?”

[writtenwhalien]

jump then fall (into you) | part 3

banner by the talented @jimilter​ 💖

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut

word count ↠ 52k (pt 3. 14k)

18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., protected sex etc.

summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

note. asdkjlfdsgh it's the final part, i hope you're enjoying! 🥰 don't forget to interact please xo

part 3 (final)

“Black or red?” Sophia held the two dresses against herself in turn, eyes scrunched as she considered each carefully. 

“I vote red.”

“No, black.”

Elisa and Shay, two of Sophia’s closest friends looked at each other in disapproval after both giving their choice. 

“Wait, what are you wearing again, Y/N?” No answer prompts her to turn around. “Y/N?”

“Huh?” You look up, slightly confused. “Sorry, dress, yes, I like both but I think the black will go with the Harry Winston your dad just got you.” The answer rolls off your tongue and you’re grateful that you already had this conversation with Thalia a few weeks back before you’d left for the cruise. 

She narrows her eyes at you and you can’t blame her. You’ve been zoning out on her all day.

“Sorry,” you wince, giving her a smile. 

“Something on your mind?” Sophia asks, having witnessed this earlier too. 

“Not really,” you answer. “Just tired.” It’s not true but you don’t particularly fancy sharing your current dilemmas with the girls despite how great they are at advice. Besides, it’s less than two days till the wedding and you’re not trying to make your problems everyone else’s problems. 

Sophia just gives you that look before carrying on as though nothing happened. “What dress are you wearing again? Wasn’t it the same red as this?”

You nod. Your dress for Thalia’s dinner tonight is a simple wine red dress with a tie up back. 

“Alright, I’m going for the black one then.” Sophia throws the red one on the bed and hangs the black one up on her mirror. 

“Now heels,��� she says excitedly. The girls follow her into her closet and you get up too but not to follow. 

“I’m gonna go get some water,” you tell them, sticking your head into the door of the closet. 

“Can you get me some too?” Sophia asks, eyes scaling the shelves for the perfect heels. 

“Sure.” 

You walk away from the girls and towards the closest back staircase which would take you directly to the kitchen. It’s on the opposite side of the house, past many of the bedrooms on the third floor, one of which belongs to Alias. A part of you hopes to hear voices in the room, one voice in particular, but you’re only met with silence as you pass. 

Deflating a little, you go downstairs to the kitchen. As you approach, you hear voices, Thalia and Alex. They’re standing by the fridge, talking softly to each other as Thalia takes a few drinks from the shelves and Alex places them on a tray behind them on the island. 

Alex looks up and smiles when he sees you. “Hey, Y/N.” 

Thalia turns around, placing the last of the bottles on the tray. “Finally managed to escape Sophia?” 

You laugh, approaching the fridge. “Not yet. I’m just here for some water.” 

“She’s still choosing her outfits?” Alex asks, brows raised.

“Yep.”

“But she took forever when she was buying them, why is she still choosing?”

Thalia laughs. “She’s your sister, surely you know better than that by now. She’s got at least three new buys for one event, then she’s got to choose between them and don’t forget about the jewellery, shoes and hair choices that go with them.”

Alex puts his arm around Thalia’s waist. “I think you’re just as bad though.”

“Well why not?” Thalia answers smugly. “It’s just self love.”

“And that’s why I love you.”

You don’t cringe as they smile at each other all smitten, but surprisingly feel a small pang of pain in your chest. Looking away, you take three bottles of water from the fridge. 

“Are you going back up there?” Alex asks. 

You nod. “She’s almost done.”

Just as Alex nods, another voice enters the conversation.

“Need any help guys?” Jungkook pauses in the doorway the moment he sees you, meanwhile Alex and Thalia exchange sly glances. 

“Actually, yes.” Thalia puts down the drinks she’s holding. “Bring the drinks please,” she says, pulling Alex by the hand. “As bride and groom we don’t want to risk any injuries from all the heavy lifting,” she adds, with an air of humour and absurdity which her fiance shares and they don’t wait another second before disappearing from the kitchen. Just like that, you’re left alone with Jungkook.

He looks at you from across the island. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile, feeling your lips purse awkwardly.

For a moment, neither of you move and the air is ripe with hesitation. A hundred thoughts cross your mind but not one leaves your mouth. If Jungkook’s mirrored expression is anything to go off of, he’s feeling the same.

Eventually, it’s Sophia’s voice coming from somewhere in the house that snaps you out of it. “Y/N, we’re doing hair now!” she calls, followed by a faint giggle from the girls.

“I’ll just…” you dumbly don’t finish your sentence, instead opting to just point towards the staircase as you turn around and head back towards them.

“Your water.”

Turning around, you see Jungkook is pointing at the three bottles Thalia was taking out for you, left on the corner of the island.

“Oh, right.” You feel your cheeks warming up as you take the bottles, that was silly of you.

Jungkook steps around the island. “Need a hand? I can take them for you.”

“No, I’m good,” you answer, noticing the way he stops immediately in his tracks. 

When you look at him, his lips are pursed and he just nods, looking down. You realise he was probably just looking for an excuse to talk and you just shot it down. 

Stupidly, you hesitate, and just when Jungkook looks up at you, one of the chefs walks in, greeting you both as she places down a big basket of freshly picked tomatoes right on the island.

Without another word, Jungkook starts placing the drinks on the tray and you turn and retreat back upstairs.

That was so stupid, you think, trudging your way up. Since when has it ever been this awkward between you both? Sure, the last time you spoke wasn’t a good conversation but this is the first time you guys haven’t been able to get past it and it’s becoming almost agonising.

“Worst headache ever.” Alias just manages to raise his head from the table to have a sip of his coffee. 

“Take some anadin,” you say, just about managing to sip on your own iced coffee. 

“Here.” Elisa puts a blister pack in front of him and Alias groans as he swallows two together. 

The whole room around you is a similar scene. Kelce and a few of the other guys are knocked out on the lounge, while you, Alias, Thalia and a few of the other guys are holding strong and knocking back some coffee to help with the hangover. Last night got a little crazy for both parties involved. As expected, Sophia called in the strippers and when the last stripper finally lost his clothes, it was straight tequila shots for the rest of the evening and even Thalia got wasted. 

“This is exactly why I don’t drink,” she moans, resting her head on your shoulder.

You laugh, remembering just how many shots she took last night. It’s true that she barely drinks as much as she did, but when Thalia gets drunk, she gets drunk. 

“A hen night only happens once.” You remind her of her words and she groans in regret. 

“Maybe we should all go dry for a month,” Alias says. 

“Oh come on,” Dillon says, taking the Anadin and nudging Alias. “Give it a few hours and you’ll be ready for another round tonight.” 

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“Whatever.”

Thalia laughs from beside you. It’s true, he’ll definitely be knocking back the rounds again tonight. After years of friendship, you know that all it’ll take is a coffee, a balanced meal, a cold shower and two to three hours for the anadin to kick in and Alias will be right as rain for tonight. The same goes for yourself and ideally you’d like to be your best tonight. 

This evening is the rehearsal dinner before the big day tomorrow. The house is full of excitement and jittering nerves from some but for the most part it’s just the excitement. 

“My sunshines,” comes Alex’s voice from around the corner before he appears. Honestly, all the excitement could be coming solely from him, you haven’t seen him so happy and carefree like you’re experiencing now. 

A wide smile plastered across his face, his eyes meet his finances as soon as he comes into view. They share a lingering glance, one full of adoration and content. Since arriving at the house, it was the job of the bride and groom parties to try to keep the bride and groom apart as is the Cirillo family tradition, but it hasn’t been going so great. For starters, the bride and groom parties should’ve been separate since arriving at the house and although none of you have been hanging out together much, you probably shouldn’t all be mingling together right now. No one’s really keeping check though, and Alex and Thalia seem to be doing well to keep to themselves. 

“You’re all finally awake,” Alex continues just as Jungkook joins him from around the corner. 

He catches your gaze just as Alias replies. 

“You actually drank the most last night, why are you so cheerful?” Alias asks in disbelief. 

“Maybe because he’s getting married tomorrow,” Elisa laughs. 

“Oh, yeah.”

“And I know how to hold my liquor, big brother.”

“And who taught you, little brother?” Alias sasses back. 

You’re not paying much attention, still looking at Jungkook. 

He smiles at you, a timid smile and he looks away before you can even smile back. 

Forcing yourself to look away, you rejoin the conversation that follows but Jungkook takes a seat on the futon on the far end of the room where your back is turned to him.

The next half hour passes in conversation about the plans for tonight; what everyone’s wearing and the weather for tomorrow. With it being summer, the sun is really sun-ing and it’s been perfect. A bit unbearable at times but it’s nothing a portable fan and some shade couldn’t help. 

Soon, the clock turns closer to 2pm and you know you ought to start getting ready, as does everyone else since dinner is at 7 sharp tonight. The room starts to empty and you decide to head up too. This way, you can squeeze in a nice nap and have enough time to get ready too. 

As you get up from the table, you notice that Jungkook is no longer in the room but you don’t think about it. Maybe after the wedding, you’ll get a chance to speak to him about everything that’s happened between you guys but for now at least, you decide to focus your efforts on Alex and Thalia. 

Sophia is still conked out when you get upstairs to her room but you wake her up knowing she’ll want time to freshen up before she needs to start getting ready. Groggily, she sits up in bed and frowns when she sees you back in your pyjamas. 

“I’m taking a nap,” you say, answering her question prematurely. “Wake me up in an hour please.”

“Sure,” she croaks, reaching for her stanley. 

As she sips on the water slowly, still sitting up in a sleepy haze, you get comfortable beside her and ask Alexa to play some white noise to help drown out everything else. As always, it works like a charm and you’re fast asleep after only a few moments. 

“Wine.” Mrs Cirillo glances around, eyes narrowing as she looks at the tables. “We need wine.”

“Are you sure, mom?” Sophia asks, looking around. “There’s plenty to serve already.”

“Sweetheart, have you forgotten what guests we’re serving? There’s lots of family coming too.”

“Oh, right,” Sophia nods. “It’s been a slow day, mom.”

Mr Cirillo isn’t paying attention though, still looking around and she counts something under her breath before releasing a sigh with a frown. “I definitely ordered wine too, where is it?” She pulls out her phone. “Have either of you seen Charlie?”

“Charlie?” you ask. 

“He’s the guy in charge of the catering,” Sophia answers for you before answering her mom. “Last I saw he was in the kitchen checking on the canapés, and mom I saw some crates when I was coming down earlier, maybe they’re still there?”

“Would you mind checking, darling? And please ask someone to bring them over if they are?” Mrs Cirillo says, still scrolling through her phone and looking concerned. 

You’re sure there’s still 101 other things she’s worried about right now since guests are supposed to be arriving any moment and the wine is just one of those problems. It probably would have been easier if this was a more traditional rehearsal dinner but considering the majority of the guests are from out-of-town, the families thought it discourteous not to invite them tonight.

“We can bring them,” you offer, getting up from your seat. 

“Oh, thank you, Y/N. Yes girls, if you could please it would be amazing.” She looks around once more but you can only see the house guests scattered around and no catering or even decor staff in sight. “Actually, find Alias” she says, looking back with a nod. “He can do it, I’m sure he’s in the kitchen stuffing his face anyway.”

“Sure, mom,” Sophia says, getting up with you. “Let us know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you girls,” she answers, attention returning to her phone as you both walk back towards the path that goes around the house to the front. 

“I’m calling Alias,” Sophia says, pulling her phone out of her purse. “That doofus is around her somewhere.”

“I think the kitchen probably is our best shot but let’s find the wine first.”

“I’m gonna kill him when I see him though, he should be here already.”

“I’m sure he is,” you laugh, “he was down here two hours ago helping with everything.”

“Still, he knows how stressed mom gets.”

Just as you come around the corner towards the driveway, you spot Alias, sleeves rolled up and helping some of the caterers already. 

“Yep, he does,” you answer as you and Sophia come to a pause. 

Sophia just shrugs. “It’s the least that’s expected of him.”

“Fair enough,” you shrug too. 

You know if Alias was getting married, Alex certainly would’ve been front and centre making sure everything was prepared and perfect for his brother's big day and Alias doing the same is, as Sophia put it, the least that’s expected of him.

Taking a crate of wine from one of the caterers unloading the van, Alias turns and smiles when he sees you both approaching. “Hey, Y/N, and hello princess,” he greets his sister as you both approach. “You finally decided to help.”

“It takes time to look this good,” Sophia says with a tut. 

“This is supposed to be good?” Alias teases his little sister. 

She simply rolls her eyes, taking a crate herself and you take one too being extra careful with the fairly heavy load. “Just take that inside. The guests are supposed to be here and mom is gonna freak if the wine isn’t sorted.”

“Yeah, caterers were running late but I’ve got some of the guys helping out here and there.”

Right on cue, Jungkook comes strolling out of the house and just like Alias, his sleeves are rolled up too. Why is he so damn good looking? You must really miss him because seeing him now has you feeling a desperate longing to at least just speak to him. 

He gives a small smile as he comes out but he could just as easily be looking at Sophia or Alias who are both standing right in front of you. 

“Good,” Sophia nods before glancing back at you. She purses her lips and looks back at Alias. “Come on then,” she says, brows raised. I’ll go check on the kitchen if they were all late.”

Without a word, Alias follows and suddenly it’s just you and Jungkook standing still in between the rush of a few panicked catering staff. 

Now you’re certain he’s looking right at you and just like that, you can hear your heart beating in your chest. It’s that cursed Jungkook Effect again but this time it feels worse.

“Hey,” he steps forward, smiling hesitantly.

“Hi,” you answer. Consciously, you try to smile but your nerves seem to be running high. Gosh, you hate this. Jungkook is your best friend, it shouldn’t feel like this. 

Jungkook steps forward again, walking until all that separates you is the crate you’re holding. You don’t miss the way his gaze skims your figure, looking back at your face by the time he’s in front of you. “Let me take that?” He asks it as a question but takes the heavy wooden box from you anyway, it’s one effortless motion and you feel his fingers brush yours as he does. 

He’s looking at you carefully, searching for any clues he can use to dissect how you’re feeling. It makes you self-conscious even though you know Jungkook never has a bad word to say about you, but still, you have so much more to lose now and you’re already at a loss. 

“Thanks,” you smile, unable to look away from him despite how you’re feeling. You really have missed him and the past few days have proven to you just how much. 

For a moment, neither of you say anything – a thousand unspoken words pass your mind and you feel your pulse rising, ushering you to say something but what? You wouldn’t know where to start, even though you know you want to say something. Anything.

“You look beautiful.” Jungkook’s gaze remains rooted on you as he says it, soft and sure.

Releasing a small breath – perhaps one of relief – you smile. “Thank you.” And just like that, your pulse slows down, your nerves subside and you’re calm. 

Focused entirely on you, Jungkook notices the change and reciprocates. His lips curl into a smile, not so big but enough for it to reach his eyes but it’s familiar to you and it’s unexpectedly comforting.“You’re welcome,” he says.

The train of thought in your mind slows down and something about the way Jungkook is looking at you now tells you everything is going to be okay. This must be why, you think, feeling all your worries melt away – it’s no surprise that you’re in love with him, with the way he’s looking at you now, you wonder if he’s always looked at you with this much care and adoration.

For the first time, you see Alex’s point and now you think, was he right?

As though he can read your thoughts, Jungkook’s expression changes and he says your name, pausing with bated breath.

“Yes?”

“Can we talk?”

Suddenly, you’re flustered. “Well, yes, I–now?”

“Um…” Jungkook turns around, looking at the hurried staff and back at the house. “Later,” he says, looking back at you. “After dinner?”

You nod. “Sure.”

“Okay.” He nods too, smiling. “I should probably take this inside now,” he says, still not looking away from you. “But I’ll see you later.”

Again, you nod, and this time you can’t help but laugh, feeling so relieved that things feel more normal than before. His smile grows when he hears you laugh, and he nods once more before turning away and walking back into the house.

“Thank you all for coming tonight and please enjoy the rest of the evening!”

A loud echo of cheers and conversation follows after Mr Cirillo closes off the final speech, with you and your friends included, all raising your glasses before taking a sip of your champagne.

“I can’t believe my baby brother’s getting married,” Alias says, having already emptied his glass. A flute of champagne is a mere two sips to him at most. 

“Feeling sentimental big brother?” Sophia asks, smiling.

“You know what? I think I am,” he says, turning to her with a smile. “You better not be next, I’m not ready for you, okay?”

She laughs. “I’m not even dating anyone.”

“Good, keep it that way.” He looks ahead again but puts his arm around his little sister and kisses her forehead. 

Neither of them say a word but Sophia lets him pull her in, a grimacing smile on her face. As siblings, the Cirillo’s are rarely physically affectionate with each other, especially these two, so it warms your heart to see it. 

“Seems you're not the only one feeling sentimental.” Sophia points at their mom who is hugging Thalia and wiping away a few tears as Alex laughs, no doubt teasing his mom. 

“Alright, they're not married yet so no tears tonight guys…” Alias looks at you guys and you all agree. 

You look around the table and at Jungkook who sits a few seats away from you on the round table, noticing how he seems so much brighter than before. He looks your way too and you exchange smiles, still timid but no longer anxious.

Just then, ABBA plays loud on the speakers and Alias is ushering everyone up and to the dance floor. 

“Okay, hang on,” you laugh as he drags you out. “I need to pee!”

You feel a little bit tipsy having had a few to drink now but Alias holds you and pulls you onto the dance floor. Sophia and Jungkook are right there behind you, as well as Kelce, Shay, Elisa and some of the others. Sophia takes your hand as the pre chorus starts and you all belt out the lines in unison.

There’s not a soul out there, no one to hear my prayers! Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?!

You get carried away with the chorus, dancing and spinning along as you always do, and just when the chorus plays, Alias takes a hold of you as you dance, swaying you together left and right while you laugh gleefully. Laughing with you, he then not so subtly twirls you in the direction of Jungkook and with a little push, you end up bumping into his chest.

He looks down at you, smiling wide. Still mid-sentence of the song, you laugh and he joins you as you finish the chorus. As the music slows into the next verse, Your friends are still singing and dancing but now, you can only focus on the feeling of Jungkook holding you, one hand on your lower back and the other on your arm. 

You know it must be the lights around you but the way his eyes twinkle have you feeling weak in the knees. With a smile still gracing his lips, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ears and that’s all it takes for you to feel shy. It would feel silly if the context were different but then his gaze drops to your lips for a second and you suddenly feel butterflies in your tummy as he locks eyes with you again. 

The moment is brief and from next to you, your friends start to shout out the lines again and Jungkook and you join in. You feel his hand let go of your arm and as you step to the side, one stays on your lower back but only for a moment.

Sophia catches your eye immediately and grins knowingly before she nods in the direction of the house. You know what she means and as the song comes to an end and the next one starts, you excuse yourself. 

“Hey!” Alias calls over the loud music. ”This is your favourite, where are you going?!” 

“It’s not mine, it’s my dads,” you laugh.

“Ah, yeah.” Alias, nods, undoubtedly remembering your dad’s 45th birthday party. “Let me find him,” he grins, walking off in the opposite direction.

Jungkook is looking your way as he dances with Dillon and Shay, and you smile before following Sophia as she tugs your hand again.

Many people have had more than a few glasses of wine so you have to excuse yourself as lots of guests bump into you, no doubt enjoying the evening as much as you are.

“What was that?!” Sophia asks excitedly as you both walk up towards the house.

“I don't even know,” you say. Still giddy from all the excitement. 

“Has he spoken to you yet?”

“Not yet. He said he would after the party, so I guess I'll just wait for him to come to me.”

“Well, he totally looked like he was gonna kiss you.”

“Sophia!”

“What?” She laughs. “We all know he wants to.”

“Actually we don’t,” you say, somewhat soberly. 

It’s true, he said he wants to talk to you but he didn’t say what about. It feels easy to be hopeful that he's going to say what you want him to say and Sophia isn’t wrong – he did look like he wanted to kiss you back there, but still, there’s something stopping you from feeling hopeful.

“Oh, come on, this is the moment we've all been waiting for,” she says excitedly, squeezing your arm.

“Maybe,” you laugh, trying your best to push it to the back of your mind. “But let’s just focus on tonight and make sure you drink some water please.”

‘Oh yeah,” she nods, “can’t be looking glum for tomorrow!” 

“No, you can’t.”

She sighs, stopping outside the main bathroom on the ground floor, one of many in the grand estate. “Okay, go, I’m gonna go upstairs.”

“Okay.”

After a moment, you’re drying your hands and stepping out of the bathroom. Sophia’s still not here so you walk towards the staircase just around the corner. Just as you do, she comes down, adjusting her dress as she walks. 

“You look lovely,” you reassure her.

“Thanks, boo,” she says, jumping down the last two steps now that she's exchanged her heels for flats.

“Ooh, wait.” You hold her still as you fix her hair parting for her, carefully moving it back to where she initially styled it… 

“She’s not here tonight but she’ll be here tomorrow, of course.” Two quiet voices grow louder as they probably walk in the direction of the loo.

“I wonder if they’ll announce themselves as a couple. Jungkook has always seemed to be the more private type.”

Hearing Jungkook’s name makes you pause and Sophia frowns at you but her question is answered as the conversation outside is continued, and she too, goes still as she listens.

“Well, yes, Jungkook is private, but Valentina? She would announce it to everyone if she could.”

What?

“Ah, yes, it’ll probably be all over their social media pages, whatever it is they’re using today.”

“Instagram I believe. In fact, she’s probably already published something. With the way they were kissing for all the world to see as she took him up to her room.”

Your heart drops.

“Oh, I heard, Josepehine said she walked past them as they went into her room and she had no shame, even laughing in front of her as pulled his tie off.”

Now you start to feel sick and the anxiety comes rushing in.

“Kids these days, so different from us.”

“I remember I had to hide it from my parents for months!”

“And they still caught you, ha!”

Together, whoever they are laugh and their voices grow more distant as they pass by.

Sophia’s expression has dropped and she whispers your name.

You stare at her blankly, still processing what you’ve just heard. 

“Hey,” Sophia says hushedly, taking your arms, “they don’t know what they’re talking about.” She looks around the corner before looking back at you. “It was just Mrs Morgan and her friend, they’re stupid and love to gossip about anything.”

You can tell she’s trying her best to make you feel better but it won’t work.

“You know what they’re like, they get a tiny hint at anything and they run with it, it’s not true–”

“It is.” Your voice sounds hopeless, even to you.

Sophia pauses, confusion written all over her face. “What?”

“I’m sure of it.” You look up at her, the memory coming back to you. 

You were at the party and Alias told you Jungkook was downstairs at the lounge where you'd seen Valentina kissing some guy in the elevator. When Alias told you Jungkook was last at the lounge around the same time, you thought of the possibility then but stopped yourself because how could it be? You could almost laugh at yourself now you’ve heard it from someone else – it must've been true because Jungkook didn't show up once that night, nor did Valentina after you saw her.

Relaying the memory of the night to Sophia in somewhat of a haze thanks to the drinks you’ve had, she simply stares at you for a few seconds before shaking her head.

“No, that doesn't mean anything, Y/N.” She says it so surely and you want to believe her.

“But it would make sense.”

“No, well yes, but even then, actually no,” she says, conflicted, before taking your hands again. “Look, it can't make sense because there is no way Jungkook slept with Val, he’s in love with you.”

You wish you could believe it, especially because you want to. She’s right that it makes no sense and that's considering Jungkook’s character alone – he wouldn’t do that, not to himself and not to you. But right now, tonight of all nights, you don’t want to think about it.

“Let’s get a drink,” you mumble, taking her hand and walking back towards the party.

She follows but her concern remains. “I’ll go talk to him, I know it’s not true–”

“No, not tonight,” you say, shaking your head. “Let’s just focus on the wedding, okay?”

She hesitates before giving in. “Okay, fine.” 

It’s a quiet walk back to the garden but Sophia takes you through the house towards the kitchen to get you a drink and then to the path that leads to the poolhouse, avoiding the party. You can still see everything as you walk and you catch a sight of Jungkoook and Alias dancing together. There’s a happy smile on Jungkook’s face that makes you feel a deep sense of longing and just like that, everything hurts again.

Tearing your eyes away from the scene, you keep walking and stop with Sophia by the sunbeds. You sit down, putting your purse next to you as you take a big sip of your drink and she sits in front of you, watching you. “I don’t want to believe it,” you say quietly, after a moment.

“Then don’t. I know I don’t.”

You look at her and see she means it. Tears well unbidden in your eyes and you have to take a deep breath and look up at the night sky to compose yourself. You absolutely refuse to cry any more – it’s stupid and annoying that things keep going in circles like this.

“Oh, Y/N, babe. “ Sophia pulls out some tissue from her purse to give to you and you use them to carefully get rid of the tears.

With another deep breath, you look back at her. “I’m fine, this is all just stupid.”

Just as she’s about to comfort you again, two giggling voices come out of the pool house and you look up to see Alex and Thalia, holding arms and cooing each other as smitten as ever as they walk out.

“Heeey!” Alex calls happily as he sees you both but he halts almost immediately, noticing that you’re not okay. “Hey,” he says again, now with much worry and confusion in his voice as he comes and sits next to you.

Thalia shares the same expression as her fiance and she sits on your other side. “What happened?”

You feel stupid and annoyed at yourself now. The last thing you want is to worry the bride and groom the night before their big day but you also know that they won’t let up now that they’ve seen you. Wordlessly, you look at Sophia and she tells them in a short summary what you just heard.

“I don’t believe it,” Alex says as surely as his sister did.

Thalia takes your hand. “Neither do I. Do you?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.

They all stay quiet for a moment and all you can hear is the music closeby, with your favourite song now playing. You wonder if Jungkook is looking for you, having always known you love to dance when it comes on.

Then Alex gets up. “I’m gonna ask him.”

You get up straight away. “No, please don’t.” You look back at Thalia too. “It’s the night before your wedding, I don’t want to think about it, we can deal with it after.” You look back at Alex. “Please.”

He sighs and Thalia squeezes your hand. “Of course,” she says, reassuring you as you sit back down. In doing so, you miss the look that Alex gives Sophia and the silent exchange that the two siblings share as she nods her head in the direction of the party.

“Alright, but I’ll get you another drink,” he says.

Mindlessly, you nod, too distracted to realise that your glass is still half full. As he walks off, Sophia moves next to you too.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Thalia asks, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Not really,” you say. “I don’t think I should even be upset over it, it’s completely one-sided and he never said anything for me to believe otherwise.”

Thalia is about to say something and you’re sure she’s about to use the same argument that Sophia gave earlier – he’s in love with you so he wouldn’t sleep with someone else – but she stops herself and you’re kinda grateful for it. You don’t need to hear that he loves you when he hasn’t even said it to himself. 

The look on his face when you danced together returns to your mind and you feel your chest tighten. You really thought that was the look of someone in love but you must’ve been wrong.

“You’re allowed to be upset,” Sophia says, “but don’t be until you know what actually happened.”

Quietly, you sigh.

“She’s right,” Thalia agrees. “I know what you heard makes sense to you but it’s not something Jungkook would do.”

“I know,” you exhale, confused and now tired. “But how could I know for sure? He’s barely been talking to me since that night with Lawrence.”

“True,” Sophia nods. “That’s kind of silly of him.”

“Right?” you say, feeling a multitude of emotions now. “And even then, I did try to make things okay but he wasn’t listening to me.”

“You mean when he kept saying you should go out with Lawrence?”

“Yeah, like, why would he not just listen to me?!” you ask, now adding irritated and exasperated to your exhaustive list of emotions.

“True,” Sophia agrees. “Honestly, guys are just dumb.”

“They are,” Thalia agrees. “And truthfully,” she adds, glancing at you. “They’re even more dumb when they’re in love.”

You look at her as Sophia just hums in approval. “Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head. “Thanks guys but I’m just not gonna think about it until after tomorrow.” You smile at them.

Although they can see right through you, they don’t press it further.

“You still wanna dance?” Sophia asks, a playful lilt to her voice as she nudges you.

You’re about to say no but the last thing you wanna do is be the reason your friends don’t have fun tonight. Sophia is the groom’s sister but she’s also your best friend and you know if you choose to retire she would join you so you don’t have to be alone, and Thalia would worry about you all night too.

“Sure,” you nod with a bigger smile. “But another drink first,” you say, downing what’s left in your glass now that the blissful effects of your previous drinks seem to have worn off.

Sophia laughs, getting up. “Of course.” 

Together, you walk back up the path, Sophia changing the subject to what Thalia was doing with Alex in the pool house.

“We didn’t do anything,” she laughs. “We just wanted some alone time.”

“You’re about to marry the guy, that’s the rest of your life with him.”

Thalia smiles. “Still couldn’t be enough.”

Sophia laughs. “Okay, I don’t know whether to be cringed out because that was actually cute.”

“It is cute. I’ve put it in my vows too actually,” Thalia says, proud.

“I can’t wait to hear them,” you tell her. “I’ll probably cry too.”

“Not more than my brother,” Sophia says. “Alex almost cried seeing you today, Thalia.”

“He told me, but honestly I think I’ll be crying myself, I just hope I don’t ruin my makeup.”

“Who did you book for it?” you ask.

The conversation shifts to makeup artists and hair stylists as you all take a few more drinks and together make your way over to the dessert table. You don’t have much of an appetite so you’re about to reapply some lip gloss only to realise you left your purse on the sunbed.

“You want some, Y/N?” Thalia holds out a plate for you but you decline.

“I’m alright, I’m just gonna go get my purse, guys, I left it on the sunbed.”

Sophia looks back at you as she takes a macaron. “Want me to come with?”

“No, all good, I’ll be back in a minute,” you say, already walking off in the opposite direction, past the crowd surrounding the desserts table and onto the path that leads away from the party.

“Tell me it’s not true.”

Alex’s voice is the first thing Jungkook hears before he even turns around.

“Hey,” he smiles, holding out the drink he’d just picked up for himself, only to frown when he sees his friend's expression.

“Please.”

Jungkook has only seen Alex annoyed a handful of times over their decade long friendship and right now, Alex looks pretty close to being annoyed. “What are you talking about?” he asks, concerned.

Alex glances around. There’s no one nearby who could overhear since they’re standing at a drinks table close to the house with only servers around, but Jungkook moves himself anyway.

Putting his glass down, he walks away from the table and Alex walks with him. After a few yards when there’s definitely no one in earshot, Alex stops.

“On the cruise,” he starts, looking straight at his friend. “Did you sleep with Valentina?”

Jungkook looks startled and equally offended. “What? Of course not!” he answers immediately, now with increasing concern.

Alex shares the same concern, evident in his tone. “Then why do people think you did?!”

“I don’t know! Where is this coming from?!”

“Some of the other guests were talking about it.”

“Which guests? How would they know anything and why would they lie?!”

“I don’t know,” Alex sighs, shaking his head. “They must be confused.”

“How did you hear it? Who said it? I can talk to them,” Jungkoook says, already looking around at the people scattered across the expanse of the garden.  

Alex pauses, biting his lip. “Sophia overheard them.”

Jungkook goes still. That means… “And… has Y/N…?”

Alex nods, lips pursed before Jungkook even finishes his sentence. “They were together.”

Jungkook stares at his friend completely confused as a hundred thoughts race through his mind – all of them stop at you. “Fuck,” he sighs. “Did she believe it?”

“I’m not sure, but she said she saw Valentina in the lounge, kissing someone going into the elevator. She couldn't see their face and then a few hours later, she was looking for you and some of the guys told her you were in the lounge… the same time–”

“The same time she saw Valentina,” Jungkook exhales slowly, feeling deflated. “I keep fucking up,” he says quietly after a moment. “I should’ve just told her the truth.”

“Which is?” Alex asks, despite already knowing the answer.

Jungkook finds a small smile on his lips even given the direness of the situation. “I love her.” He says it once and then smiles a bit wider.

Alex finds himself suddenly grinning. “I knew it.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Was I that obvious?”

“To everyone but her, my friend.” Alex looks at Jungkook, brows raised.

Just like that, Jungkook knows what he needs to do. “Help me find her.”

You’re grateful you’re only wearing kitten heels as you walk along the path but it would’ve been a better idea to change into flats like Sophia did, especially since tomorrow you’ll be in high heels for the better portion of the day. 

“Y/N!” 

Someone calls your name and you pause, turning around.

It’s Jungkook. He’s jogging to catch up with you from the rest of the party. He must be coming to talk to you now that the night is coming to an end soon. Given how fast he is, it’s only a few short seconds before he’s in front of you, breathing a bit faster but not out of breath thanks to his perfect stamina.

You don’t know how you should be feeling right now. A part of you is angry at him for everything that has happened – you didn’t ask to start a fake relationship with him only for him to be the one to tell the truth about it because he thought you should be talking to Lawrence instead. And sure, you agreed to the fake relationship, but you’re not the reason for everything that came after and even though Jungkook had good intentions, he did disregard your feelings when you told him multiple times that you don’t like Lawrence romantically at all anymore. Sure, he couldn’t know it was because you have feelings for him instead, but that doesn't mean it was justified.

Another part of you just wants to have things go back to how they were because you really do miss your best friend and there’s nothing more you want than to have him back.

Then there’s the part of you that wonders if he really slept with Valentina. You could believe it, it all adds up and despite how unreliable the source is, you did see Valentina with someone, who now when you think about it, looked very much like Jungkook. The thought of it makes your stomach churn.

“Jungkook, I don’t wanna talk right now,” you mutter, turning away. 

“Wait, I really–”

“What?” you say, turning abruptly and stopping Jungkook from reaching for you. Immediately, you recoil, feeling bad. “Sorry.” You didn’t mean for it to come out like that.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook says, now hesitating.

The look on his face makes you feel even worse than before and you swallow hard. You’re still mad at him so without another word, you turn and walk away, and this time, Jungkook doesn’t stop you. With every step you take a deep breath and calm yourself down, and then–

“Do you honestly believe it?”

You stop in your tracks. Slowly, you turn around. “What?”

He watches you carefully. “Do you really believe it? That I–,” he pauses, sighing. “That I slept with Valentina?” 

You notice that he sounds hurt that it’s something he even has to ask you, and still, hearing it from him hurts far more. “What else am I supposed to believe?” you ask, feeling your walls crumbling but your tone remains rather defensive. “You never said anything otherwise.”

After your many years of friendship, Jungkook knows you and he knows that right now, you’re mad at him but you just need an answer. He knows you have every right to be annoyed at him because he hasn’t been honest with you about anything and it’s because of him that all of this happened in the first place.

“I’m telling you now,” he says, taking a step forward. “It’s not true.” He sees your expression flicker but nothing more. “Nothing happened, I literally spoke with her for five minutes that night before she went back to her room with some other guy.”

Relief — that’s the first thing you feel as you exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “Okay?” You shrug, suddenly not sure what to say or do now he’s revealed the truth – you didn’t think this far ahead, having only thought of the worst. “Good for you,” you carry on, crossing your arms. “I don’t care anyway.”

“Yes you do,” Jungkook says, plain as day.

You flare, albeit lightly. 

Traces of a smile appear on his face and he carries on. “You do care,” he says, stepping forward slowly, this time without stopping. “And I’m sorry you had to hear it how you did, I know I’d feel shit if I heard the same thing about you.”

What? You’re trying to figure it out – does he know?

Jungkook sighs, smile growing and he stops close to you. You almost step back but stop yourself. He looks down at you with a familiar adoration in his expression.

Softly, he says your name. “You’ve been my best friend for years now, how long has it been since I’ve even looked at anyone else, yet alone slept with them?”

Saying nothing, you shake your head with a small shrug. A long time.

“Heck, I don’t even know myself,” Jungkook laughs softly. “All I know is that for me, my attention was always somewhere else.” 

Your head tilts, brows creasing just slightly. “What are you saying?” you ask, feeling your heart rate speed up as you wait for the answer you want more than anything to hear.

Jungkook’s eyes roam your face for a second, the smile still carved on his lips and he exhales. “I’m in love with you.” You feel his fingers curl around your palms as he takes your hands. “I’m in love with you and I have been for a long time, longer than I even know.”

You say nothing, lips parted as though you want to but nothing comes out as no complete thoughts form in your head. You just feel your heart hammering in your chest and a fuzzy wave of warmth rushes ripples through you.

“I…”

“You don’t have to say anything now,” he says, “I just had to tell you, and again, I'm sorry.”

You’re grateful that you’re standing close enough to the dance floor because if it weren't for the music playing you're sure he would be able to hear how loud your heart is beating in your chest.

“Y/N!” Another voice calls your name from close by. It’s your mom. 

Jungkook turns around, letting go of your hands and she waves when she sees you, smiling as she approaches. “Darling, come take a photo with your father and I,” she grins, completely unaware she’s interrupting anything. “Jungkook, you look dashing,” she smiles at him as she takes your hand. “Nice to see you two have made up from whatever you were arguing about too,” she says, looking at you in question but she doesn't wait for a response from him. Her giddiness tells you she’s had more than her usual liquor intake.

Still reeling from what Jungkook just told you, you just nod and follow wordlessly as she pulls you towards your dad.

“Ah, there she is, my beautiful daughter,” he beams, “come here.”

You wish you could be more present as your parents share a sweet moment of appreciation for you, but you just smile and nod, hugging and kissing them in return as you all take a bunch of selfies together. Your smile is genuine enough though, Jungkook’s confession replaying over and over in your head as it becomes more real.

He loves me.

“Mom, dad,” you say, interrupting them both as they play around with some filters. 

“Yes, honey,” they respond in unison, still slightly distracted.

“Um… Jungkook told me he loves me.”

Both your parents' heads snap up together and you see the biggest smile on your moms face and a look of pure surprise on your dads.

“That kid finally did it,” you hear him say quietly to himself as his expression changes to a smile.

“He did?” your mom cries excitedly, squeezing your arm. “What did you say?”

“Well, you called me then to come here–”

“What?” your dad interrupts, disappointed. “Oh, honey, we’re sorry.”

“It’s okay, I can find him now, but dad…” you frown, thinking about what he just said to himself. “Did you know?”

Your dad shrugs with a smirk. “I had a feeling. A strong one.” He nods in your moms direction and she smiles proudly. “Your mom did too.”

You can't help but laugh. “Everyone apart from me it seems.”

“Well go find him now then,” your mom ushers.”Want me to help you?”

“It’s okay.” Getting up, you kiss both of their cheeks before turning away to go and find Jungkook.

Many of the guests have returned to their hotels or homes now and it’s much easier to find someone from across the garden. As you get closer to the house, you see Thalia and Sophia sitting on the veranda and they grin when they see you coming.

“So,” Thalia says as they sit on the seats in front of you. “Jungkook found you?”

You look at her and Sophia, unable to contain your happiness. “He said loves me,” you say out loud.

They look surprised for a split second before squealing in excitement.

“He finally told you?” 

“This is so exciting”

“Mhm,” you nod, laughing. You’re sure they must’ve already heard it from Jungkook first, given their expressions when you approached, but you appreciate their excitement nonetheless.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t.” I should have. “My mom came.” 

“Oh.” Their expressions have dropped ever so slightly and you feel it.

“I should have, right?”

“Well, maybe something but your mom came so it's fine,” Sophia says. “Find him now.”

You’re just about to spring into action when THalia stops you.

“The guys have all gone upstairs, Jungkook too,” she says, frowning apologetically. “We’re not supposed to see any of them until the ceremony tomorrow.”

“That's a family tradition,” Sophia says, waving her hand. “But we have an exception here.” 

You wish more than anything to see Jungkook now but you also don't want to disrespect their family – you know the kids won't mind but perhaps Mr and Mrs Cirillo, and Thalia’s parents.

“No, it's fine,” you say, smiling reassuringly. “It's just one day, and at least I know the truth now.”

“Fair enough,” they agree.

“Wow, we might have another wedding again next year now,” Sophia grins, winking at you.

You laugh, feeling a wave of joy as you lean back into the cushions and tell the girls exactly how your conversation with Jungkook went. 

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Laughter and cheer erupts around you as Alex ever so sweetly kisses his bride, cheeks cupped in his hands. It’s a lingering kiss, a sweet one and it has your heart about to burst with joy. 

Across from you, Jungkook is laughing too, cheering for his best friend and he catches your eye for the nth time now and grins, making you smile even wider.

As the bride and groom depart for their photographs, Sophia drags you to the bar and you both get a drink while recapping the events of the morning and then she gets summoned away for the family photos which must mean that the groomsmen are done with their pictures too.

“I’ll come with you.”

“Of course you will,” she laughs, knowingly. “Does this mean you're finally gonna tell him you love him too?”

“I think so,” you grin. “As long as I don't chicken out.”

“You better not, otherwise I’ll tell him for you.”

“Don't worry. I don't think I will.”

“Well definitely not, I know you're so gonna get laid tonight.”

“Hey” you laugh. “I mean it would be nice but I don't care either way.”

“That's sweet, she says, “but please, don't be coy. After all this waiting it would be an injustice to not get laid.”

Suppressing a laugh, you nod. “Okay, noted.”

As you approach the quiet gardens, you spot some of the other groomsmen, Alias included, but not Jungkook. Alias sees you and answers your question before you can even ask it. “He went to look for you.”

Ah,” you nod. “Thanks.”

Saying a temporary goodbye, you walk in the opposite direction away from the gardens and back towards the venue. It's so beautiful here with tall oak trees spread across the lush and perfectly manicured grounds surrounding the elegant mansion. You’re momentarily distracted by the views that you don't notice jungkook as he walks out from around the mansion, smiling as he approaches. 

When you do spot him, he’s stopped in the path ahead of the fountain, holding his own bouquet of flowers in front of his chest. Smiling, you approach him slowly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, unable to fight back his smile.

You stop in front of him, as close as he was to you yesterday and gaze at him.

“You look beautiful,” he says quietly. “Again. You look beautiful everyday,” he adds with a shake of his head.

“Thank you. You look pretty handsome today too.”

“Thanks.” He looks down shyly, lowering the bouquet. “These are for you.”

Looking down at the bouquet, it’s full and in bloom of all your favourite flowers and you know that’s not a coincidence. “They’re lovely.” Taking them from him, you admire them a little longer before looking back up. 

“I'm glad you like them. He takes them back from you and places them on the bench beside you. 

You’re confused for a second but when he turns back, he wraps both arms around your waist and pulls you into him, head burying into your neck. Muscle memory serves you well as you melt into his embrace, his scent engulfing you as your arms wrap around his neck as his chest presses flush against you.

He hums softly and you reckon you could stay here forever. Now you wonder, how did you never realise you were in love with him? Why did it take all of this unnecessary awkwardness and distance for you to know why you’ve always been so unavailable to others? Jungkook has always been the one person whose company you've craved when no matter what the occasion and the only one who really feels like home.

“I missed you,” you murmur, fingers gently moving across his neck as you move.

He keeps you close, arms tight around you. “I know, me too.” His eyes dip to your lips.

“Let's never do that again.”

“Agreed,” he nods, smiling with a wince. “Even though I know it was really my fault.”

“Oh, 100%” you say, feeling the space between you grow smaller and smaller. “All your fault.”

Now, you're looking at his lips.

Jungkook notices and he moves his hand up, slowly sweeping your neck until he’s cupping your cheek in his broad palm, the other arm still holding you tight. He smiles ever so slightly, and when you look up, you can see he’s waiting for something for you. So you nod, and that's all he needs.

He closes the space between you, lips meeting yours in a gentle brush once. Lips parted, you pull away briefly, moving your hand up to cradle his jaw before leaning in again for a more deliberate kiss. He hums, softly, and returns for more, one by one getting longer and more keen. The seconds melt away into minutes and you don't quite know how long you were standing here for, you only know that it feels perfect.

“I love you,” Jungkook murmurs, pecking your lips once more, then your nose and forehead.

You squeeze your arms around his waist. “Say it again.”

He chuckles, sweeping your hair back to kiss your cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs low into your ear, hot breath warming your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you so much, princess.”

Biting your lip, you find yourself suddenly feeling something you haven't felt in a long time, except recently that night in bed with him on the cruise – a feverish desire for more.

Holding his face in front of you, you kiss his lips. “I love you too.” 

He blinks, endearingly. “I was waiting for that.”

You sigh with an air of amused disappointment. “Why couldn't we have just realised sooner? It would have made our lives so much easier.”

“I think I always knew actually.” He takes your hand and you sit down at the bench. “At least for a long time, I knew there was something.”

“Really?”

He hums, putting his arm around you and you lean into him. “I just didn't really let myself think about it much though, I didn’t wanna change things in case you didn't feel the same, which Ii don't think you did.” he thinks out loud, honestly.

For a moment, you're quiet. “I did.”

He looks at you.

“I don't know from when, but I think I just didn't realise.” Playing with the ring on his finger, you smile. “I probably should have just listened to Alex from the start.”

“Alex?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “He’d been telling me for months that you were into me, I just didn't see it.”

“Ah,'' Jungkook nods, pink tingeing his cheeks as he looks down.

“But now we’re good,” you say, cocking your head and smiling.

“Now we’re good,” he repeats, sealing his sentence with a kiss.

The evening reception goes on late into the night, later than you expect it to. It’s 8pm by the time all the guests turn up and within the next two hours, you've gone through all the emotions thanks to a round of heartfelt speeches from all the family and friends. Alias and Sophia’s speech made you tear up the most and you didn't even dare look in a mirror knowing your makeup is probably already so far beyond repair but luckily Sophia has magic hands and has a technique to apply concealer over powder, so not all was lost.

Except now you can feel yourself tearing up again as Alex and Thalia have their first dance, gazing lovingly at each other while Etta James’ At Last plays in the background with a live band. 

“They’re so perfect together,” you murmur, leaning your head back against Jungkook’s shoulder as you watch them from a raised platform close to the band.

He wraps his arms a little tighter around your waist. “Are we perfect together?”

“Of course,” you grin, looking up at him.

He wrinkles his nose, about to lean in to kiss you when someone coughs quietly next to you. Turning around, you see Valentina with a drink in her hand, coughing again as though she was just choking.

“Are you okay?” You take her drink from her.

“Fine,” she says, waving a hand as she clears her throat and straightens up. “I was actually coming over here to congratulate you since you’ve evidently made up now and have finally realised you’re both stupid in love with each other.” 

Jungkook and you smile sheepishly.

“Then I heard you talking and gosh…” Valentina winces, although her eyes twinkle with amusement as she looks back and forth between you. “You really are disgustingly cute together.”

You let out a snort of laughter. “Thanks, Val.”

You feel Jungkook caress the small of your back. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” She swiftly retrieves her drink from you. . “I’m glad you worked it out. See you later, guys.” She struts off, as perfect as she always is and disappears into the crowd.

The band closes off the song and everyone applauds, cheering for the happy couple.Then, the familiar melody of Elvis Presley Can't Help Falling In Love starts to play.

“Wanna dance?”

Scanning the crowd, you consider it. Mrs Cirillo is going around, inviting people to the dance floor, pulling some too. 

“I feel kinda shy.”

“What?” Jungkook steps next to you, taking your hand. “Why?”

“I don't know,” you laugh. “It’s fine, lets go.”

“You sure?” Jungkook furrows his brows. “We don't have to.”

“No, I want to,” you reassure him.

Just then, someone approaches from behind Jungkook. “Just who I wanted to see.” Mrs Cirillo is beaming as she approaches you. “I knew you two would fall in love eventually.” She takes your hands and pulls you to the centre of the dance floor. “I just don’t know why it took you so long,” she says before kissing your cheek, then Jungkook’s. “Bless you both,” she grins, before she’s off again.

“I guess we have no choice now.” You step closer to Jungkook and he pulls you in by the waist as your arms hang loosely over his neck. Neither of you say anything as the song plays, the words speaking volumes for you instead – as cheesy as it may seem.

Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you

Fittingly, Jungkook breaks out into a cheesy smile and you both laugh. He pulls you in and together, you share your first dance as a couple. “So,” Jungkook clears his throat, “just to clarify, in case it wasn’t clear, you’re my girlfriend now.”

You feign surprise. “I am?”

Jungkook pouts his lips, his expression a mix of amusement and mock annoyance. “Don’t be mean.”

Giggling, you kiss his cheek.”Ask me nicely.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically but plays along with a smirk. “Princess, would you please do me the honour of being my girlfriend? So I can love you and spoil you forever?”

With a smug grin, you nod. “Of course.”

“Just don’t be that annoying couple who do everything together,” Alias’s voice comes from behind you. Turning around, you see Alex, Thalia and Sophia having gathered too, all wearing knowing smiles. 

“Weren’t they always that annoying couple?” Alex says, brows arching as he smiles as smug as when he first saw you and Jungkook walking into the hall together holding hands. Being the groom on his wedding day, he never got to say anything to you then, but you knew he knew as he nudged Thalia and gestured to your direction. She looked like she was about to cry when she saw you together, though you suppose she was already feeling emotional from the ceremony prior. Still, it was heartwarming to see your friends so happy for you.

“That’s true,” Thalia agrees. 

“At least this time they won’t be sulking around and pining over each other,” Sophia banters.

Alias cringes in jest. “No, instead they’ll be wearing matching pyjamas, or worse yet, slippers.”

He’s definitely referring to the matching sweaters you got for Jungkook and yourself last year – and that was before you were a couple.

“Can’t forget the His and Hers mugs,” Jungkook amuses them as they all groan playfully.

Entertained, you join in. “Oh and the keychains,” you add. “Jewellery too.”

“I’ve already ordered matching charm bracelets,” Jungkook winks.

“Alright, we’ve heard enough,” Sophia laughs.

Alias clicks his tongue. “I definitely know what you two are getting for Christmas this year.”

“But–” Sophia wags her finger between you both, “–just give us a heads up if there’s any proposals on the horizon, I can’t do another wedding cruise single.”

Alias raises a finger. “I second that.”

Jungkook takes the lead as he responds. “Will do, but don’t take too long.” He has a mischievous glint in his eye and squeezes your hand. ‘I know I’m not.”

The fact that you’re not surprised by his answer is what actually surprises you. Smiling, dazed, you simply close your eyes as he pecks your cheek.

Meanwhile, Thalia squeals, excited, as Alex pats Jungkook’s arm, laughing as he encourages him. 

His brother on the other hand, groans, though there’s a heavy tone of cheerfulness in his voice as he pretends to complain, “they’ve already started.” 

Sophia blinks, “I wish I could be grossed out but damn it, I’m not.”

If it weren't for you being on cloud nine right now, you might actually feel sorry for making your friends put up with all of this cringeness, but as it so happens, you're revelling in it. “You might wanna get used to it, guys.” You pull Jungkook in closer, returning to a slow dance as the next song plays. After exchanging a few more playful words, Jungkook and you are left alone again, dancing to the music. 

“You meant that?” you ask.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes. If you’re sure you want it too.”

Gaze locked on him, you nod. “How could I not?”

As Jungkook's smile lights up, he places a soft kiss on your lips, so soft that it barely feels like it happened. Hand on the back of his neck, you push down and keep him three for another. He obliges, letting you kiss him freely for all the world to see and quite frankly, you probably forget about your surroundings a bit too soon.

“Mm, wait.” You pull back, taking a deep breath. “Let’s pause,” you say, continuing to dance along with everyone else.

Jungkook’s eyes go round. “Why? You okay?”

“Yeah, I just… um…” You press your fingers into your palm, exhaling as you look down. “I’ll want more if we keep going.” You feel slightly embarrassed as you mumble out your response but Jungkook’s immediate reply makes you look up, surprised.

“Me too.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling in his lower lip with his teeth as he comes to a slow stop and looks at you.

“What?”

“Let's get a drink,” he says, not even waiting for you to respond. There are more people dancing now so he weaves you through them, over to the mostly empty tables. Then towards the double doors leading into the rest of the mansion.

Huffing, you try your best to keep up. “I thought we were getting a drink.”

“No, I just said that.” He continues leading you as he walks through the corridors you hadn’t previously seen.

“Where are you going, Koo?”

“I went past it somewhere,” he says, talking more to himself as he keeps walking past a few doors, peering in each one as he does.

“Where?”

“Ah.” He stops, pulling you through a door. He lets go of your hand as he goes to close the door behind him.

Looking around the dimly lit room with only a small window on the far right, you narrow your eyes in confusion. There’s tall racks with coats and hats and other items, lined up along the walls and two others in the centre of the room. A single desk and chair is in one corner, multiple tags arranged in a box amongst a few other neatly placed items of stationary. “A cloak room?” you ask, dubiously, turning around. “Why are we–”

Jungkook kisses you – hard. Hands circling your waist, he’s stepping forward until you're backed up into a wall. One hand finds your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek sweetly while he tugs on your lower lip between his teeth. 

“Oh,” you sigh out loud, now realising. “Cloak room,” you say, dumbly.

“Uh-huh,” he purrs, lips moving to your jaw. “Couldn’t help myself.”

His hot breath sends shivers down your spine, hips arching against the wall. “That-that’s totally okay.”

“You sure?” His tongue swipes just under your jaw, close to your ear, oh so delicately.

“Absolutely.” Grabbing his face, you kiss him hard again, taking pleasure in every second that passes with his lips on yours. 

Opening wider, his tongue darts across yours, the salacious act leaving you desperate for more. You deepen the kiss, fingers curling in his hair as your hips involuntarily push forward again and this time, Jungkook reciprocates, pressing hard against you so you can physically feel just how bad he wants this. His bulge gets you right where it feels good and you falter, knees going weak as one gives way.

Jungkook holds you tight, laughing softly, “That good, huh?” 

“Duh.”

He kneels down, taking your ankle and lifting your heel to his thigh. “You're so pretty,” he says, more to himself than you. He takes your shoes off, right one first, then the left. With your foot still resting on his thigh, he looks up at you, hand slowly caressing your skin as he moves towards your inner thigh.

Even without the heels, you still feel your knees going weak but it feels so good. He watches your lips part, breaths picking up as you try your best to stay patient. “Please do something, Koo.”

“Patience, princess,” he teases and you whine, prompting him to laugh. “Okay.” Acquiescing, he turns his head, placing a rousing kiss on your skin. “So soft,” he murmurs, between kisses. “So perfect.” You want him so bad. “All mine.” With every touch of his lips, his mouth inches closer to where you want him, slowly but surely. Goosebumps prickling your skin, you release short soft breaths and will yourself to be patient.

Jungkook hums, nipping you with light force. “Feel good?” His tone tells you he’s tortured by his own pace as much as you are.

“Yes.”

He looks up, eyes glazed over with a hunger for more. “Tell me what you want.” His fingers brush your sex, barely. 

“Touch me, please.” 

He brushes you again, fingers working their way over your damp underwear. “Like this?” He revels in your soft whimpers.

“More.”

In one swift motion, he pulls your underwear down and reveals everything. You don’t feel shy in the slightest, especially not with the way he’s looking at you. “So pretty.” Fingers sliding over your wet lips, he exhales before he smacks you lightly. “And all mine.”

You whine, moving your hips again to remind him of your needs and he doesn’t make you wait this time. Collecting your slick on his fingers as he moves them back and forth, he then uses his thumb to stroke your clit, the contact making your knees buckle again.

Jungkoook grabs your left leg and places it over your shoulder as he repositions himself for better access. “Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs. “Bet you taste so good as well.”

“Why don't you find out?”

“Mm, I will,” Jungkook chuckles, sliding one finger inside you. “Not just yet.”

“Oh.” Your hand falls to his shoulder, digging in hard.

He stretches you,  watching as you react. Once he’s sure you're good, he adds a second finger, stroking exactly where it feels good.

“Please don’t stop.”

He grips your thigh, holding you up well. “I won’t.” Leaning in, his mouth makes contact with your clit and you mewl under his touch. He’s slow with it first, sucking and circling lightly and you want more. Under the soft silk of your dress, your nipples harden and you reach for one, toying with yourself. Seeing this, Jungkook groans. “That's it baby, touch yourself more.”

Obeying, you pull the straps off your shoulder and let the top of your dress fall, gathering around your waist where you hold it out of Jungkook’s way. His soft moan as you touch yourself tells you he’s enjoying it and as his fingers grip you harder, he starts to flick your clit.

“Oh, that’s it.” It's all you need to feel yourself reaching an orgasm, teetering on the edge as he adjusts his pace. “Please, I’m so close.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“I wanna hear you.” He fingers you harder as his tongue works overtime to get you to come and it works — in a rippling wave, your orgasm washes over you and all you can do is moan as pleasure courses through you. Jungkook keeps you up, slowing down once the peak has passed. He withdraws his fingers and you make sure to steady your legs as he stands. “You're so hot,” he says, looking at you in complete adoration and lust.

Feeling flushed, you manage to smile. “Thanks. Now my turn, please?”

Jungkook chuckles, stepping forward. “I don't think I can be that patient, princess.” As he presses against you, you can feel him a lot more than you could before.

“Oh.”

He tilts his head, hand brushing your chin as he pulls your lips to his. You can taste yourself as he kisses you, tongue stroking yours in tandem motion while he uses his other hand to caress your breasts, moulding the soft flesh before pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. It rallies up arousal for more but your first priority is him. 

“Why are your clothes still on?” You question out loud, having just now realised.

Jungkook suppresses a chuckle, lips quirking into a smile as you make quick work of his tie and shirt.

Your hands roam the expanse of his broad, muscular chest. “Much better.” You only take a moment to appreciate the tattooed eye candy before pulling him back in for another sensual kiss, driven by your desire to make him feel good now, Fingers deftly undo his zipper and within seconds, your hand is slipping past his boxers and gripping his length. The girth alone has your pussy throbbing again. Jungkook releases a low sigh, his kisses becoming more insistent as you pull his cock out of his pants and play with him. 

With a slow swipe of your thumb over his head, Jungkook moans, teeth tugging on your lips and you drag your hand up and down his length, faster each time.

“Let me have a taste, please.”

“Fuck,” he sighs. Looking at your pleading face, he agrees.

You drop to your knees in an instant, letting your dress fall entirely as you go. Without wasting any time, your mouth is on his cock, tongue swirling his red, leaking tip before you move your head. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, voice strained as he looks down at your naked form below him.

Focused on his cock and eager to please, you just hum in response and keep going while he gently moves your hair back, gripping it behind you and you have to squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to ease yourself to the sound of his soft grunts and groans. As they get louder, you grip his thighs and take him as deep as you can. Despite trying not to choke, you cough a little and Jungkook moves back, pulling himself out of your mouth. 

“You good?”

“Great,” you nod, trying to go back in.

Jungkook chuckles, pulling you up before you can get there. “I can’t wait any longer.” His pupils are blown out with carnal desire but his tone is otherwise gentle and affectionate. “Can I please fuck you?”

“You don't have to ask me twice.”

He pulls a condom out of his pocket, tearing the wrapper with his teeth.

Seeing this, your brow arches. “How do you have that?”

Jungkook pauses, looking slightly embarrassed. “Alias,” he says, more in a hushed whisper.

Pursing your lips together, you refrain from laughing. “Alias?”

Jungkook nods, placing the condom on while he explains. “He gave it to me just when we got here before you guys did. He said, and I quote, if there was ever a good time to declare my love for you in its physical form, it's a wedding.”

Shaking your head, you laugh again. “He would know.”

“Oh I know,” Jungkook nods. Alias has a bit of a reputation for being a womaniser on steroids when it comes to weddings.

“I’m glad he gave it though,” you shrug, pulling Jungkook closer. 

“Me too.” His lips find yours again, starting off sweet and slow. Hands circling your waist, he lifts you and your legs wrap around him instinctively. He takes his shirt from the rack you’d flung it towards earlier and walks you towards the desk in the corner and you use the chance to tease him, breaking away to kiss his ear and nibble his lobe.

“You sure you wanna do that?” he chuckles darkly.

“Very.”

He throws his shirt down on the desk before placing you on top. “You sure?” His fingers find your sex, gliding through your cum.

Dazed, you nod.

He takes his cock in one hand and spreads your legs with the other. With a small step forward, he pushes his head into your clit and you whine, wanting more. Deliberately, he slides himself down your pussy, coating his length in your cum. 

“Koo, do something,” you plead, fingers gripping the edge of the table hard.

Unable to resist any longer, Jungkook swears under his breath, pushing himself into you in one steady motion. You gasp, feeling the entirety of him fill you up so good. Jungkook doesn't move, eyes pressed shut as he acclimatises himself to the feeling of being inside you. 

The gratifying burn from being stretched out makes you tense in anticipation. As a result, Jungkook inhales, fingers gripping your thighs harder. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see both of you joined and slowly pulls out, watching his cock glisten with your wetness. Back and forth he goes, moaning at the sight of it.

“Fuck me, properly,” you huff, growing impatient with need.

He rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek and smirks. In one quick motion, Jungkook shoves his dick back inside of you. “Done.”

You brace yourself, moving your hands back behind you on the table and you’re right to do so. Jungkook fucks you with no inhibition, hammering your sweet spot every single time. You always knew he was good at everything — cooking, golf, rugby, gardening, fixing things, running, heck any sport, singing, even poetry when he tries — but the way he fucks you goes beyond any expectation you could’ve had. 

You can do nothing but sit there and take it, jaw slack as your legs spread wide for him. Crying out for more, he gives you what you want and takes you to orgasm. A blissful sensation ensues, heightened by the fact that you’re with Jungkook and you cry his name as you climax. Holding your trembling frame secure, he follows closely himself, coming hard and hot into the condom. 

Heavy breathing is the only sound that fills the room for a moment. You’re basking in all of Jungkook’s post-sex glory, his chest glistening with a sheen of sweat as a few strands of hair now stick to his forehead. He lowers your legs to the desk, kissing you lazily on the forehead before he pulls out and disposes the condom in the trash can under the desk. 

He takes some tissues from the box behind you and attempts to clean himself before zipping up. “You okay?”

Exhaling, you push yourself off the desk. “Never been better.” Your legs wobble as you stand and Jungkook holds you still.

“Best sex I ever had,” he says as a passing comment, helping you clean up.

And you agree. “We’re definitely doing that again.” it’s just now, you realise you’re completely naked in the middle of the cloakroom.

Jungkook is already crossing the room, picking up your dress and heels. Together, you make sure you both look presentable enough to rejoin the wedding. 

Running your fingers through his hair, a smile graces his lips involuntarily. His happiness is infectious and you grin. “Happy?”

“Words can’t even describe it. Especially with you messing my hair up like that.” His eyes twinkle with mischief.

You laugh, swatting his arm gently. "Hey, I'm going for the tousled look. It's called fashion, Jeon, look it up.

"Of course," he says, nodding sagely. "My mistake. You're clearly ahead of your time.

"Exactly!" you say, with mock seriousness. "Now, are you going to kiss me or keep critiquing my hairstyling?"

Leaning in, he places a tender kiss on your lips before his expression shifts, carrying a hint of solemnity. “I am sorry for everything that happened before though.”

“It’s fine. You already apologised. Besides, so am I.”

“You didn't do anything wrong.”

“I could’ve been more honest with you.”

“I should have been first. It’s because of me everything happened that way. If I’d been honest, you wouldn’t have been hurt in the process.”

Sighing softly, you grasp his chin with your thumb and forefinger. “But we’re here now, it happened for a reason. And honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.”

He smiles and nods. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

6 months later.

“Finally!” Pushing the back of your earrings in, you step onto the landing. “We need to leave soon.”

Jungkook puts down his carry bag by the door, a wide grin on his face. “Are those the earrings I got you last week?”

You nod, smiling. “I’ve been so excited to wear them, they’re so perfect.”

“They’re perfect on you.” He kisses your cheek, still admiring you.

“Alright, I’ll be ready in 15 minutes.” Your dad steps in the front door, putting his own carry bag down next to Jungkook’s as he catches sight of you. “Oh, Y/N, dear, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks, dad,” you grin. “How was golf?”

“Your dad doesn’t like to lose, I’ll tell you that,” Jungkook chuckled, glancing at your dad with a playful smirk. “Although he almost beat me this time.”

“Almost being the operative word," your dad retorted with a grin, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah, He's definitely got some tricks up his sleeve.”

“Coming from you.” Your dad looks at Jungkook, definitely impressed. “You really surprised me today.”

Jungkook shrugs, a quirk to his lips. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” 

Their cryptic conversation goes unnoticed by you as you check you’ve got everything in your purse. “That’s fab, guys, now hurry up. We need to leave or Alex will never invite us to another party again.” 

“Alright, I’ll just put these away.” Jungkook picks up the carry bags while you rush back upstairs, having remembered to put perfume on. Watching you go, Jungkook feels a wave of nervous anticipation washing over him. He hears footsteps behind him and turns to see your mom come through the kitchen.

“Ah, there’s my beautiful wife,” your dad beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

She smiles and turns to Jungkook. "Excited for tonight?" she whispers, her voice filled with barely contained excitement.

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat as he nods. “She still has no idea right?” 

“Not a clue.”

“Good.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re all gathered by the front door, ready to leave as your dad sets the alarm. You step out into the driveway, met by a gust of warm evening breeze. Looking at the horizon, the warm glow of the setting sun paints the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a serene ambiance and you feel a wave of contentment. 

Jungkook appears at your side, looking at you like he’s falling in love for the first time all over again. Smiling, you lean in and give him a kiss.

“What was that for?”

“I just love you… lots.”

Something in Jungkook’s expression shifts. “Me too.

Your hand finds his and your fingers intertwine. “Ready?”

Jungkook nods, thumb circling your bare ring finger, which, unbeknownst to you, will soon be holding the most perfect princess cut diamond as a promise of forever with him.

“Ready.”

note. thank you for reading! i really hope you liked it! ✨ please share + let me know your thoughts <3 more fics coming soon ;)

[avatar-anna]

I have a requeeestt. Would you write something where ice skater y/n has her period and she has practice and it’s just NOT her day. And she doesn’t feel super comfortable telling Harry but he figures it out and just like pure fluff 🙊💗

Grumpy

part one, part two, bonus, bonus, bonus

Harry's girlfriend was a delight. An absolute ray of sunshine. The sweetest human on the plan—

"Fuck off, Niall. I bet your 'superior athleticism' wouldn't last you one ballet class."

Most of the time. She was a ray of sunshine most of the time.

Harry looked up from his phone and saw Y/n talking to a few of his teammates. They were all snickering and laughing as if what she said was funny, which only made her fists curl at her sides, and while he would've found it rather entertaining for her to take a swing at one of them, he would rather not have his friends and girlfriend be on bad terms.

"You ready to go?" Harry asked, sliding his hand over Y/n's and unfurling her fist.

Her face was set in a scowl as she looked over at the boys she'd been speaking to. For the most part they got along great, Niall specifically. They had a sibling-like relationship and often teased one another, but Niall must've said something about figure skating, and that was one thing that would make you public enemy number one in Y/n's eyes. And if she was already grumpy? Harry met his friend's gaze and tried to send a clear message with his eyes: Cut it out.

Because Y/n could throw a punch, and while she was significantly smaller than his teammates, she had a mean right hook.

Y/n gave Harry a nonverbal grunt that she was ready to leave the rink. But she did lean into the tiny kiss he placed on her cheek, which was something.

"Yeah, Harry, take your girl home. I think she's on her period or something."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay, time to go," Harry said quickly, pulling Y/n away from his teammates and sending one final look at Niall.

As they walked to the car, Y/n handed her keys to Harry unceremoniously and slipped her hand out of his to cross her arms over her chest. He could practically see the steam coming out of her ears, so he let her stew in her bad mood for a little while. She must've had a rough training session, which could mean she messed up a lot or hardly at all, but Y/n was an extremely tough critic, so it was hard to be sure of which one if he wasn't there to watch.

Y/n's arms stayed crossed as they drove back to his apartment. Harry was fine with it, knowing the grumpiness wouldn't last. It normally didn't with Harry, a fact that he was extremely proud of. Except when he rested his hand on her thigh—close to her knee, he wasn't trying to start anything—she shook it off and shifted so her body faced the window.

"What was that for?"

"For being friends with neanderthals," she muttered. "Especially that one."

"'That one' is your friend, bub," Harry said, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. "And wait—does that make me a neanderthal?"

"He was out of line. And no," she said, still facing the window, the last part almost an afterthought.

"I'll make sure he apologizes," he promised.

Harry leaned over at a stop light to kiss Y/n's temple. She didn't shrug him off or push him away, which was a good sign, though Harry now had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on. He didn't say anything the rest of the drive, happy to let his girlfriend be grumpy for the rest of the drive. As long as it wasn't directed at him, he was fine.

When they arrived, Harry shouldered both of their bags and handed her the keys to his apartment. "Go ahead and get in the shower. I'll meet you in there in a few minutes."

At that, he could practically see Y/n's grumpy facade start to crumble, but she nodded wordlessly and trudged up the stairs. Harry followed suit, setting their bags down and rustling through his small kitchen, trying to remember where he kept the emergency stash of her favorite snacks.

He realized that it was probably Y/n's time of the month. She became particularly moody around then, and it only took a couple minutes for Harry to put the pieces together. Should Niall have said anything? No, but the fact that he was right probably pissed Y/n off even more.

Harry grabbed a few things before heading down the hallway, the sound of water running growing louder as he got closer to the bathroom. He headed to his room first, setting Y/n's snacks and a couple other things down before kicking off his shoes and leaving to join Y/n like he promised.

"Need some help?"

Y/n was just standing beneath the spray coming from the shower head, not washing her hair or her face, the first steps in a detailed routine. She shrugged as he stepped into the shower, his hands smoothing over her shoulders before kissing the top of one gently.

"What's hurting?" he asked, continuing to snake his arms around her to hold her close.

"My boobs, my back, my ego, and I have the worst cramps," she huffed, but Harry detected the slight shift in her voice. Now that they were alone, she was trying not to cry. "He should try playing his precious sport while his uterine lining is shedding."

"I know," Harry said, reaching for the shampoo she used and squirting some in his hand. "Scalp only, right?"

Y/n nodded, some of the tension leaving her body when he started massaging the shampoo into her scalp. He worked slowly, trying to let the day wash off of her, murmuring to her and kissing parts of her body occasionally. When the actual bathing part of the shower was over, Harry turned Y/n around to face him, his kisses becoming more drawn out, sensual. His hands were soft, but firm, trying to knead away the soreness in her breasts and back.

Y/n sighed, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch. Both of them could feel him growing hard, it was hard not to give the circumstances, but neither of them said anything about it. Harry wasn't really focused on himself at the moment.

"Want me to use the shower head?" he asked.

Y/n shook her head. "I want you."

"Yeah?"

Peeking one eye open, she said, "Don't be so smug about it."

Harry chuckled softly and reached a hand up to hold one side of her face. "Me? Never."

For the first time all afternoon, Y/n grinned, but it quickly turned into a frown. "We can't."

"Baby, we're in the shower."

"Still, I think it's gross." But even as she said it, she moaned when he began to kiss her again.

They had this debate every time Y/n was on her period, but Harry always managed to find some way around it. For her sake, not his. He knew they both wanted to, but Y/n never believed him when he insisted he didn't mind if she was on her period. His solution was usually the detachable showerhead, but she didn't seem to want that this time.

"Here," Harry said, an idea sparking. He sat down, the tiles cold against his skin as he brought Y/n down with him. She didn't follow though, staying standing, her arms crossed over her body. "Would you get down here? I promise I won't even look. See?"

Harry covered his eyes with one hand, then raised them to show that his eyes were closed underneath.

"You promise you won't look?"

"Won't even watch you come, which is arguably my favorite part," Harry said, only half teasing.

He kept his promise to keep his eyes closed, so he couldn't tell if or when Y/n decided, though when he felt her settle over his lap, he had a pretty good idea. She draped herself over him, tucking herself close to him when he was fully settled inside her. Harry couldn't tell if she just wanted to sit like this or if she wanted more, but all he got was a contented sigh in his ear, which didn't really help.

"Okay, you can go now," Y/n said after a few minutes had passed, voice soft and a little slow as if she'd just woken up from a long nap.

Harry couldn't help but laugh a little. "I have to keep my eyes closed and do all the work?"

Y/n only nodded, not moving from where she was tightly hugging him. Harry was amused, but not all that surprised. She despised the term, but Y/n was without a doubt the textbook definition of a pillow princess. She had a pretty tough exterior, but once they were alone, she melted, becoming more needy and letting Harry take control. She liked being praised for taking all of him and behaving for him. His good girl, Harry once called her, and after she lit up from it, he called her that anytime they were intimate. He thrived off of it, Y/n's eagerness to please and the way she let him have his way with her.

Harry maneuvered himself a little, earning a few gasps and whimpers from Y/n. When he finally found a good enough position to hold her while not slipping on the slick tiles, he nudged the side of her cheek with his nose.

"I need at least a kiss first." He was keeping his word, so his eyes were still shut, but when Y/n slotted her lips over his and gripped the wet curls that were pressed to the nape of his neck, he grinned, focusing on the sensation of her kiss. With his eyes closed, Harry felt everything. Every shift of her hips, every clench she made around him, it was almost torturous, but he held off driving into her until he thought she was ready. "Thank you, bub. Be as loud as you want, okay?"

That only made her squeeze him tighter, and Harry took that as his signal to get started. It was slow as he tried to find the right rhythm, listening closely to how Y/n was reacting. Usually he was able to tell by the little faces she made, but he went off her sounds and how hard she squeezed her arms around his neck.

Harry murmured in Y/n's ear the whole time, letting her know how good she felt around him and to touch herself however she wanted. By the end of it, she was all molten limbs and tired, satisfied eyes, kissing all over his face as he smoothed back her hair. Harry gave her a couple minutes to come back down from her high before he helped her stand back up and let her get dressed while he showered properly.

Later that night, Y/n was sleeping in Harry's bed, a heating pad strapped to her back while she stayed tucked into his chest. They'd watched a couple movies and eaten her favorite snacks, and at one point Y/n crawled into his lap to ride his thigh when she claimed she needed another orgasm. Harry was happy to give her one, happy to let her use him how she liked, though he had to help her hips along after a couple minutes.

All the grumpiness from earlier was gone. She had nothing but kind words and sweet nothings and little jokes she mumbled to him as they continued watching a show they started together, which was when she promptly fell asleep. Harry was right behind her, he just had to send a text first.

Y/n's ballet training is at 8am on Wednesday. Be there.

Harry had promised Y/n Niall would apologize, and he couldn't think of a better way than his friend struggling to plié. He didn't need to add or else or any other kind of threat. It was unnecessary. Niall had pissed off Y/n, and he knew Harry would make him pay if he didn't make it right.

After sending the text he set his phone down and settled deeper into the pillows. Y/n shuffled around a little, then murmured, "Little spoon."

Harry understood immediately, turning over so she could wrap her arms around him and rest her cheek on his back. With that, Y/n fell back asleep, and Harry gave one last kiss to her knuckles before following suit.

[vivwritesfics]

Dreaming Of It All

One particularly bad crash lands her in hospital, out for the count. Max, Lando and Charles visit her every single day. While she's out the reader lives several different lives. The one thing they all have in common? Her boys

Max Verstappen x Reader, Lando Norris x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader

The First Part The Second Part

"We've tried Harry Potter and Marvel. What's next?" Lando asked as he sat on the end of the hospital bed.

Charles shrugged his shoulders. He had read all of the Harry potter books and, as far as he was aware, she hadn't had any reaction to them. He didn't know what was happening in her head, the delusions she was living out.

"What was that book series she was always reading while we were karting?" Max said suddenly. "She was obsessed. She'd start reading it as soon as we were off the track," he said.

Charles's eyebrows were furrowed as he thought. "Wait," he muttered. "You mean Percy Jackson?"

He and Lando were out searching for copies of the Percy Jackson books that afternoon.

***

"What're we doing here?" She asked as she walked with Lando and Charles, her arm linked through Max's. "And, where are we?"

Max chuckled. "What do you mean? We're at the track," he said.

Nothing was very clear. Team names and logos were a blur. "Wait, Max," she called softly and he stopped walking, allowing her a chance to look around. But it was as if as soon as she looked away from something, she forgot about all of the details.

There was a car, a red one. She couldn't see much more than the colours. It didn't look like a regular car, but it was incredibly familiar as it came racing towards them at impossible speeds. "Max!" She cried and tried to pull him out of the path.

But he stayed where he was and held her tight, keeping her in the path of the speeding race car. Suddenly it wasn't a car. it was transformed into a bull. The Cretan Bull.

She reached for her sword, disguised as a pen (creative i know, forgive me) and uncapped it. But it was just a regular pen. Her sword didn't appear like it should have, leaving them at the mercy of the Cretan Bull.

She woke with a start in the darkness of the Athena cabin. Her siblings around her were still asleep as she climbed out of bed and pulled her boots onto her feet. Her siblings stayed asleep while she crept her way out of the cabin.

There was one place she knew to go. In the furthest cabin, the darkest cabin of them all, was her best friend, the person she had been dreaming about. Max was alone in the Hades cabin, a cabin that had only become his a few months prior.

Before that Max was an unclaimed kid in the Hermes cabin. It was only when a young camper, the son of Poseidon, went to Tartarus, that Max found himself claimed. He hadn't wanted to move to the Hades cabin, hadn't wanted to be alone.

Maybe that was why Y/N found herself going to see him whenever she could.

It was rare that Max was sleeping. He had managed to get gaming consoles into his cabin as soon as he moved out of the Hermes cabin. It was one way to cure loneliness, she supposed.

Y/N knocked on the cabin door. There was a little wait before Max pulled it open and welcomed her in. "What's up?" He asked as he led her back over to his gaming console. Of course, he was playing a football game and he looked to be winning. "Can't sleep again."

"You know it," she said and sat on the sofa behind him.

The Hades cabin was admittedly creepy. She didn't understand how Max lived in such a place. But he himself was warmth and she could stomach the Hades cabin if it meant being around him.

"Wanna talk about it?" He offered, turning in his chair. He hadn't yet unpaused his game, all of his attention on her.

She shook her head and Max scooted back in his chair. He patted her thighs and she stood from the sofa, walking over to him.

They weren't together, but they most of the campers thought they were. They didn't do much to dispel the rumours, though. This much was clear when she climbed into his lap and laid her head against her chest.

Max made sure she was comfortable before he resumed playing his game. She fell asleep like that, warm and safe from the nightmares that came with being a demigod in his arms.

When the kids in the Athena cabin couldn't find her the next morning, they knew exactly where she would be. With Max Verstappen, son of Hades. He had just two friends: Charles Leclerc, son of Aphrodite, and Lando Norris, son of Hermes.

They knocked on the door of the Hermes cabin, startling Y/N and Max awake. She jumped out of Max's arms and sat on the sofa as he went to open the door. "What do you want?" He asked, half asleep.

Sleep hadn't been very comfortable for either of them. But they hadn't minded, not when they were pressed together.

Lando pushed past him, leading Charles into the cabin. He stopped when he saw Y/N, tipped his head to the side, but shook it off and sat beside her. "We were thinking of sneaking out," Lando said as he placed his arm over Y/N's shoulder.

"Call me the brains of the operation, but why would we go outside of the camp where the monsters are waiting or us?" Y/N asked as she leaned against Lando, making herself comfortable again.

Lando shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Boredom, glory, attention from our parents," he said and Charles nodded in agreement.

"C'mon guys," he said to her and Max. "Please can we go?"

Suddenly they couldn't say no time him. Charles didn't know about the power he had. He didn't use it often, and didn't realise when he was.

Y/N returned to her cabin. She and Max got themselves ready. They dressed in the orange camp shirt and grabbed what weapons they had. Once ready the two of them met back up with Charles and Lando and they set off, sneaking their way out of camp.

Turns out, they were actively seeking out Monsters. Y/N hadn't expected it, but they really were walking around, looking for something they could kill. She supposed practicing on something alive, able to fight back, was better than the repetitive training they did at camp.

It wasn't long before they found one. Charles, Y/N and Max sat back as Lando took care of it, wearing a grin on his face.

The next monster Y/N and Max took down together. They always worked well as a team. The monster disappeared into dust before their very eyes.

"Do you guys remember the way back to camp?" Asked Y/N as they trekked through the woods. They had gone this way and that, and the way back to camp was no longer clear.

Suddenly she was thrown against the tree, the wind knocked out of her. "Y/N!" Max shouted as he ran after her. Lando and Charles jumped into action as Max helped her to her feet. Fucking minotaurs.

"I'm fine," she said as she grabbed her sword from the floor.

She and Max charged, swords brandished. The minotaur was no easy opponent, but the four of them worked hard. Sweat was on their brows as they swung their swords. Y/N and Max worked side by side until it was no more than dust on the floor.

Max dropped his sword. "Fuck," he breathed out as he walked over to her. Max grabbed a gentle hold of her head and checked her over for any injuries. "You're okay," he said to himself. "You're okay."

He cradled her head against his chest, his eyes falling shut.

Suddenly they were no longer in the woods. Again they were on the track, the cars out of focus, team names and sponsors unidentifiable. Max was in a blue suit and she herself was in a red one. "Max. What the fuck is going on?" She whispered as she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. "I..."

Still he held her head and kissed her forehead. "It's okay, lieveling," he said. "You just need to wake up."

Suddenly they were back in the woods, all four of them in their Camp shirts. "Guys, please. I'm so scared."

"Wake up," the three of them said together as she fell to the floor. "Wake up."

***

After weeks of nothing, her eyes flew open.

"Y/N!" The three boys cried as they rushed over to her bed, her hospital bed. Shit, it all came flooding back. The car hadn't been right for the entire day, but she pushed on. The team needed points and she needed her first championship. That was such a big mistake.

She looked at all four boys. "I dreamt of all of you," she said as she looked at Max, Lando and Charles. "We were superheroes, and then we were wizards, and then we were demigods."

The boys smiled to each other. Those were what they were using to keep her entertained while she was out. It only made sense that her subconscious would do something like this.

"In each new dream I was dating at least one of you."

"That makes sense," Lando said as he took her hand and squeezed. She squeezed back. He'd wanted this and nothing else every day for the last few weeks. "We are your boyfriends, after all."

She looked at them all, at the way they smiled at her. "Oh yeah. You are."

Max and Charles leaned in to kiss her, but she held her hand up, blocking them. "I don't think I've brushed my teeth in weeks. I love you guys but I'm not kissing you."

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[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

hinny prompts??? ooooh um maybe write something where harry is being a bit protective of ginny? hbp, post dh, whichever point in time you feel most inclined to write about!! thanks 😍😍😍

“You were right about Vanishing spells,” Ginny declares irritably, dumping her school bag onto the table Harry has secured for their study date in the library. “They’re a pain in my arse.”

“Ah,” Harry says, looking up from his essay with an expression of sympathy. “Bad lesson?”

Ginny throws herself into the chair opposite and scrunches her nose in distaste. “Awful. Might as well have been using one of Fred and George’s trick wands for all the good mine did, at least then I’d have had a laugh.”

“Did McGonagall set you extra homework?”

Ginny sits up rim-rod straight in her seat, makes her lips as thin as they can go, and adopts a lofty Scottish accent, “Miss Weasley,” she chides, in a passable impression of McGonagall. “An essay on the proper wand motion and theory behind Vanishing vertebrates to me by Tuesday.”

“Brutal,” Harry winces. “How many inches?”

“Two hundred and four. And once you’ve finished that, please use your newfound knowledge to Vanish the Chudley Cannons abysmal goal scoring problems, Fleur Delacour’s superiority complex, and Harry Potter’s penchant for danger. And then you can fling yourself from the Astronomy Tower for your trouble.”

Harry snorts loudly. “Oh, is that all?”

“I might just skip straight to the Astronomy Tower.”

“Efficient. Please don’t, though.”

“Honestly,” Ginny grumbles. “She set me fourteen inches. Fourteen! I’ve already got loads of Charms to do this weekend, I’m going to be in the library all–”

Ginny trails off, for Harry had turned in the middle of her rant to scowl rather hatefully at a group of fourth year Ravenclaw girls whispering at a nearby table. “Er, Harry?”

Harry turns back to her, but the scowl remains. “Sorry. Fourteen inches?”

“What’d they do to you?” Ginny jokes, jerking her head toward the girls’ table. They aren’t being particularly loud, and Harry isn’t typically one to become enraged by library volume etiquette.

“What?” Harry says quickly. “Nothing.”

Ginny grins. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“It’s nothing, honestly.”

“C’mon,” Ginny goads. “Were they trying to ask you about the Chosen One rubbish, or something?”

Harry shakes his head. “No. They… before you arrived, they were talking about you,” he says in a tone of combined incredulity and disgust.

“Ah.” Ginny sits back in her chair, utterly unsurprised. “What was it this time? That I’m spiking you with a Love Potion? Or that you’re only interested in me because I’m a tart? Or – ooh, my favorite is that I’m using you to usurp your position as Quidditch Captain. I think they might be onto something with that one, actually…”

Harry doesn’t even laugh at her joke as his expression approaches the realm of horror. “The Love Potion one but… People have been saying that other stuff about you? To you?”

Ginny shrugs unconcernedly. “Not to my face, but I’ve heard it, yeah. Dunno if you’ve noticed, Harry, but a lot of girls fancy you.”

Harry shrugs this off so quickly that Ginny can’t help the feeling of satisfaction and smug glee that sparks in her chest. “But that’s… that’s so fucked.”

“Well, yeah,” Ginny says, slightly amused by his naivety to the Hogwarts gossip mill. “I suppose. But honestly it’s all rubbish anyway, I don’t give a rat’s arse. Let them say what they want, they don’t know the real reason I’m with you - all your gold.”

Harry laughs despite himself, but the concern quickly returns. “But I don’t understand. Why would anyone think you’re spiking me with Love Potion?”

Ginny grins wickedly. “Dunno. Might want to tone down your infatuation with me. It’s very suspicious.”

Harry shakes his head as he lets out another reluctant laugh. “No, but I mean it. It’s… it’s mental,” Harry makes a gesture to her general person, like she’s meant to agree with something. 

“Yeah, I mean, obviously I’d never do that to anyone, let alone you–”

“No,” Harry interrupts. “Well, yeah. I bloody hope not, you’re not Romilda Vane,” he adds darkly. “But that’s not what– I just meant, why would anyone even assume that? Half the blokes at this school fancy you.” He gestures to her again, as though his point should be self-evident.

A heat blossoms over Ginny’s cheeks. “Half the blokes in this school do not fancy me,” she laughs. “You’ve been listening to my brothers.”

Harry stares at her like she’s the one who’s lost her gobstones. “No, I haven’t. But that’s beside the point. It’s just… insulting.”

“Doesn’t paint me in a particularly good light, no,” Ginny agrees, feeling like she’s missing something. “Rather creepy.”

Harry exhales in frustration. “I just meant, how can they honestly think that’s the only reason I’d fancy you? I mean… you’re…” He gestures to her again. 

If she’s meant to fill in those blanks, Harry is going to be disappointed. “I’m… what?”

Harry stares at her incredulously. “You’re… brilliant! You’re the best in the school at Quidditch, you’re always making everyone laugh, and well, you look like,” he gestures to her again, helplessly, “that.”

The heat has spread from her cheeks down to her chest. She might be on fire, actually. “Harry–”

“No, it’s… how can anyone honestly think that I wouldn’t fancy you? It’s really rude, actually, I don’t know why you’re not bothered.”

Ginny is struck quite dumb by this proclamation. A tingly, glowing warmth is radiating out from her glowing cheeks. Ginny supposes it shouldn’t feel so surprising - they’re together, and Ginny doesn’t think she’s alone in how quickly her feelings are escalating; on some level it comes with the territory that he’d think these things of her. But she had been totally unprepared for him to be so indignant – not about being the subject of baseless gossip yet again – but about the insinuation that Ginny would need any help in attracting his attention. 

“I don’t–” Ginny splutters. “Well, that’s– you really think all that?”

“That you’re brilliant at Quidditch?” Harry asks in disbelief. “That you’re funny and beautiful? I mean – yeah? You are.”

“I think you might’ve overdosed on that Love Potion I’ve been slipping you–”

Harry barks out a laugh again. “Come on. Honestly. Of course I think that. You must know that.”

She supposes she did know, but it’s quite a different matter to have him state it so baldly like this, like her brilliance is so wildly self-evident. Harry’s gone and released a jar of snitches in her stomach. 

“Well, clearly the rest of the school’s got a different opinion,” Ginny says, trying to disguise the way his words have impacted her. “Or perhaps you’re underselling your own appeal.”

Harry smirks, and Ginny might die. “Find me appealing, do you?”

“Obviously.”

“Glad my Love Potion’s worked.”

They grin stupidly at each other, and Ginny’s heart is thrumming in her chest. 

“I am sorry, though,” Harry says, his grin fading. “That people have been saying all that about you. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine,” Ginny says, waving her hand. “Honestly, they’ve done me a favor. Got you to admit how obsessed with me you are, didn’t they?”

“Didn’t realize I was hiding it,” Harry replies, casually delivering the fatal blow to Ginny’s composure. 

“That’s it,” Ginny announces, stuffing her Transfiguration book into her bag. “We’re done with the library.”

“But you haven’t even started–”

“Don’t tell McGonagall, then. Come on.”

Harry doesn’t need telling twice, as he packs up his things with admirable speed. 

They make their way to the Library exit, still grinning soppily at one another, and their path takes them past the table of Ravenclaws. As they’re passing, Ginny thinks she catches a snippet of their conversation, sees a tightening in Harry's jaw: “--so obvious, I bet she gets them from her brother’s joke shop–”

Suddenly, Ginny is being spun around on her heel. Before she has time to react, Harry kisses her, boldly, smack in the middle of the library. His hands come up to cup her face, and Ginny’s heart is hammering in her chest. After several moments, he pulls away, leaving Ginny feeling rather gobsmacked. 

She watches as he shoots a nasty scowl at the Ravenclaw girls, who are all staring in blatant shock. Satisfied, he takes Ginny’s hand again and continues their meandering path from the library, as though they’d experienced no interruption. 

“Er, Harry?” Ginny says, thoroughly gleeful. “Not complaining, or anything, but I’m not sure that helped with the whole Love Potion narrative. And it’s definitely not going to help me beat the tart allegations…”

Harry shoots her a sheepish look. “Fuck. Sorry. We’re both tarts, then.”

Ginny’s grin widens. “Oh really? I wish you’d told me sooner…”

[thecuriousbeauty]

You're on your period- Harry Styles Blurb

Word count: 1178

Synopsis: Periods really suck. But not so much when you have a sweet boyfriend to take care of you. (FLUFF!)

You felt like you were going to cry as you opened the freezer and saw that you were out of ice cream. You were looking forward to binge eating that ice cream and watching your favorite show when you get back from work. You had a particularly long day, or maybe you just felt like that because of the piercing pain from your period cramps and your hormones being all over the place. 

You shut the door of the freezer with a sigh, dragging yourself to bed. You curled up, clutching your stomach as another bad wave of pain hits you. You forgot to take some pain meds when you were downstairs, and you were just too tired so you just layed there.Your boyfriend, who you now remember, had helped you finish the last of the ice cream when you had a movie night last week wasn’t home yet, so you phoned him.

“Hey baby! You back home?”, Harry answers and you pout, just wanting to crawl into his arms. “Harry..”

“What’s wrong, darling? Are you okay?” He doesn’t like it when your voice isn’t sounding peppy.

“Nooo..”, you draw out, making Harry frown  as he gets in his car, being done with the studio for the day. “Why is that, baby? Anything I can help with?”

“We ran out of ice cream..can you get some for me please?”, you ask softly, making Harry’s heart melt. He loved when you asked him to get things for you, even if it was something small. 

“Of course, love. You aren’t feeling too good, are you?”, he coos, joining the dots as he remembers the date. He keeps track of your periods too. 

“Nuh uh. I’m having a war with my uterus right now.”, you tell him, making him chuckle softly. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. Anything else you need, baby? Stocked up for the week?”

You really have the sweetest boyfriend. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need you.”

“Aw, I’ll be home soon, my love. You get some rest, yeah?”

You hummed, closing your eyes already. “Love you.”

“I love you too. Oh, what flavor did you want?”

“Flavor?”, you smirk, and Harry laughs. “The ice cream flavor, silly.”

___________________________________

Harry didn’t just buy you ice cream. He got you your favorite packet of chips, some chocolate and some other snacks you liked. He kept it all in the kitchen and went upstairs to find you. You had dozed off while waiting for him, and he smiled as he took you in, walking to you quietly. He leaned down, gently brushing his fingers across your forehead, brushing away strands of your hair that fell onto your face. 

He thought not to wake you up and just slide into bed so he could give you a cuddle, but he spotted a stain on your shorts that would leak into the sheets soon. He didn’t mind, but he knew you would, so he gently kisses you awake with some kisses. 

You wake up to his feather soft kisses on your skin, a contrast to your aching stomach. You open your eyes and Harry gives you a smile. “How’re you doing, love?”

“Not good, it hurts.”, you mumble, sighing as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Oh, baby. You wanna take a warm shower, maybe? You’ve uh, got a bit of blood on your shorts.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly looked down to your shorts and around the bed. “Shit..I’m sorry babe, I fell asleep and didn’t realize-”

“-Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”, he says, giving you his hand to help you out of bed. Thankfully, the blood hadn’t seeped into your sheets yet. “See, the sheets are fine. If it wasn’t, I’d change them, nothing to be sorry about.”, Harry tells you, and you smile softly, leaning to his side carefully, giving him a side hug. 

“I’ve got you some snacks too. After you’re feeling all fresh, we can cuddle up on the couch with a movie, hm?”

You nod, pressing your lips to his, giving him a kiss. “That sounds good.”

Harry lets you take care of your business and shower. He also got changed and set up all the food with a movie, bringing your fuzzy blanket to the couch. He got your heating pad and your pain meds ready as well.

You slouched over downstairs in one of Harry’s shirts and another pair of your shorts, making him smile at how cute you looked. Your hair was up in a messy bun, and you had no makeup on your face, but to him, you were gorgeous.

He opens his arms, and you fall into them, crawling onto his lap. “How was your day?”

“Good, good. Got some recording done, but I’ll probably do the same part again tomorrow. I missed you.”, he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, holding you close to him with arm as he leans over to grab the pain meds. “Here, take these, love.”

You swallowed them down with the water he gave you and rested your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warmth. 

While you tell him about your day, he slides the heating pad under your shirt to keep it over your tummy, before adjusting you on his lap and bringing the fuzzy blanket around you. One of his hands slips inside to rub your lower back in firm circles, with just the right amount of pressure, making you feel relaxed. When you told him about your ice cream craving, he immediately grabbed the tub and gave you the spoon so you can start digging in. 

“Thanks for all this, you’re the best.” You kiss him. 

“Only the best for you.”, he says, smiling as he watches you scoop some of the ice cream into your mouth and hum as the cold desert with the luscious chocolate hits just the right spots. “That good, huh?” Harry laughs.

“Yes! Here, I’m willing to share.”, You fed him some too. “Mm, that’s good.”, he agrees. You watch the movie for some time.

“Is the pain going away?”, he asks, pressing kisses to your hair and you smile, kissing his jaw. One of his hands still stayed on your back, and the other was playing with your hair. “Mhmm. You make it better.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Hate to see my baby in pain.” You blush, looking up at your handsome boyfriend. “I really like you, you know?”

He scoffs out a laugh, pinching your cheek. “You really like me? Give that ice cream back.” He moves his hand to your side, his fingertips dancing over your skin as he looks at with a glint in his eyes. He adores you. 

You giggle, going to grab his hand as it threatens to tickle you. “Correction! I really love you.”

“Hm, you better.” Harry nudges his nose against your cheek, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You laugh, and he takes your chin, giving you a kiss. “Cause I really love you too.”

_______________________________________________

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[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

When Harry came running into his study one bright October day, the first thing Voldemort thought was, Didn’t I lock that door? Years of living with the boy – well, man now – hadn’t yet inured Voldemort to him constantly being underfoot and getting into places where he shouldn’t be.

His second thought was that the flush of exertion colouring Harry’s cheeks was rather fetching. Even if his hair was more of a windswept bird’s nest than usual and the knees of his jeans were dirty.

“Vee, you gotta come with me,” Harry said. His breathing was just a little heavy, likely from running about like an excitable child.

“Oh, I ‘gotta,’ do I?” Voldemort teased in a deadpan tone, arching his brows as he watched Harry shift in place in the doorway.

“C’mon, don’t be pedantic; follow me,” Harry insisted. When he began walking over with a determined light in his eyes, Voldemort accepted his fate with a sigh, setting down his book and rising from his seat. Capitulation was better for his pride than losing, after all.

“Very well, lead the way.”

He pretended not to see Harry’s victorious fist-pump.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

When they reached their apparent destination, as indicated by Harry throwing his arms wide to present… something, Voldemort said, “What am I meant to be looking at?”

He couldn’t help but feel that Harry’s exasperated sigh was undeserved. “Leaves!” the man exclaimed, gesturing in front of them again.

“Yes, there are a lot of leaves,” Voldemort agreed slowly, wondering if the other man may have been caught with a stray confundus in the past hour.

“No, you–” Harry said, huffing out a laugh. “I raked some of the leaves into a pile. We’re going to jump into it.”

“We are not.”

“Uh, yeah, we definitely are.”

“Correction: I am not. You can do whatever foolish thing you like.”

“Vee, don’t be a spoilsport. Didn’t you ever want to play in the leaves when you were a kid?”

Tilting his head to the side, Voldemort gave it a moment of thought. “Not particularly, no. There weren’t enough trees around Wool’s to create an adequate pile, and the ground was too full of stones. I’ve never been fond of being dirty, either.”

“That is both sad and far too practical,” Harry said. “C’mon, a little dirt won’t hurt you, Mr. Big, Bad Dark Lord.”

“I’m going to remember you said that,” Voldemort threatened absently, glancing away from the leaf pile to watch the other man. “Is there a particular reason why you’re goading me?” 

Harry ducked his head, kicking one foot back and forth through the leaves and scattering them, though there were enough that it barely made a difference. “I dunno,” he said quietly. “When I was younger, I’d see some of the neighbourhood kids playing with each other in the leaves. I always had to rake them up and bin them immediately at the Dursleys'. It seemed like such a waste.”

And Voldemort was more than capable of filling in the bits that Harry wasn’t saying by this point. Sighing his defeat yet again, he turned away from the leaf pile, ignoring Harry’s disappointed sound. Then he let himself fall backwards, landing with a flump and sending leaves fluttering into the air around him.

Harry’s joyous shout preceded his flop into the leaf pile next to Voldemort by mere moments. Rolling back and forth and flailing his arms about with a smile practically splitting his face in half, Harry looked ecstatic. 

Reaching over, Voldemort plucked a leaf from Harry’s hair, letting it fall between them. Harry’s surprised eyes peered back at him, before they crinkled into happy half-moons behind his ridiculous glasses.

“Thanks, Vee,” he said far too sincerely for something so simple.

So Voldemort sat up, grabbed a handful of leaves and pitched it into Harry’s face, eliciting an indignant squawk. Before he could fully extricate himself, Voldemort was tackled back into the leaf pile, spitting out fallen foliage and rolling a cackling Harry off of him to pin the giddy man to the ground and stuff fistfuls of leaves down his shirt.

They both ended up flushed and dirty, but Voldemort couldn’t find it in him to complain.

[arliedraws]

All this anti-Remus talk is making me like him even more 😂

I love that he’s a character who is so fixated on image and how he comes off. He’s such a cold person! Detached! Won’t form close bonds! Like…his loving parents fucked him up by keeping him away from all other children until Hogwarts. I love how this plays into his character again and again and again.

I put the rest under the cut because it gets a bit tangential, but whatever, I was feeling a bit heated.

I feel like Remus doesn’t actually know how to make friends—he has let everyone come to him. James and Sirius formed their little group, and Remus has always been in awe of what friends will do FOR him. What did Remus do for his friends? Maybe Remus learns how to accept love, but he is not very good at giving it back.

It’s so interesting to me that Remus doesn’t become Harry’s go-to even after they spent hours together. Harry allows Remus to see his most vulnerable side, and Remus doesn’t reciprocate even after the truth comes out. At the very least, he could write Harry. He could visit Harry in the summer.

But I actually LOVE this about Remus. I love that he’s written as a warm, inviting sort of person when he’s actually someone who is terrified of forming close bonds. No one is allowed to see the real Lupin, and once someone has seen a part of himself he doesn’t like, he immediately detaches himself and disappears. Remus wants to appear in control of himself because he is concerned more about his image than doing the right thing. At the end of PoA, I’m sure he’s upset that he nearly killed Harry and co, obviously, but more importantly, he’s embarrassed that he lost control. If he really cared about the safety of students, he would have revealed Sirius’s disguise to Dumbledore as soon as Sirius escaped Azkaban.

The point of his character is “what you see on the surface is not necessarily what lies below.” It’s one of the most salient themes of PoA.

Anyway, it’s uncomfortable! So many people want to make Remus a “model of marginalization” - who, depending on the fanon, falls on one end of the spectrum which is “ohhhh poor disabled guy :((( he can’t do anything because he’s a pathetic baby” or “look how hot and tall and rational and intelligent he is despite his poverty/disability!!!!”

It’s SO INFANTILIZING. I don’t think Remus is a bad guy or a good guy—I think that his particularly negative character traits are a result of prejudice towards his condition, his upbringing, and his internalized prejudice towards werewolves. So I am not saying he’s a complete asshole. Obviously. My point, though, is that he has friends who support him in school, particularly James, who break the law and risk torture prison (and bodily harm from a werewolf) to support him.* And Remus…he does not do much to reciprocate that sort of love. The very least he can do for James is to check in on Harry (he doesn’t even need to say hi—just literally see that he’s ok!). James risked his life for Remus, and Remus won’t risk Dumbledore’s disapproval to reciprocate.

He continually does the LEAST for Harry. Harry has to beg him to teach him the Patronus Charm. And when Harry is clearly craving his parents’ voices as they’re dying, Remus doesn’t even offer a nugget of “ohhhh, gosh, Harry, let’s give you some good stories about your dad, ok?”

This is a cold, broken man who has convinced himself that being alone is safe because you can never be rejected. This is Remus’s greatest fear. He’s the teacher that needs to be liked but he hides behind professionalism when it suits him. His “nice guy” traits are a fucking ACT. I want people to explore more about his negative traits! He blames his condition when people get too close, and when people manage to climb his walls to try to get close to him, he pushes them away.

Chronic illness does not make you a good person—it just makes life harder. Remus accepts love and support from his friends—and yes, they SHOULD give him love and support because this is what we owe each other, but Remus also owes his friends love and support. It’ll look different from how James, Sirius, and Peter can support him, but you don’t get to just take from your friends without giving back. Your friends are not there to be your mommy. Sometimes, you’ll go through periods where your friends are holding you up and you just need to accept that they don’t resent you for it, but if you’re willing to accept help, you’d better be willing to return it later. As someone who has a few people in their life who take and take and give little in return, I can tell you, it starts to feel like your only purpose is to carry them on your shoulders. And man, it’s fucking exhausting. Sometimes I need to be carried too.

I have no idea how Remus behaved at Hogwarts regarding his friends on a day to day basis because Harry never sees evidence of this, but we see him as an adult who is unwilling to support his friend’s orphaned kid in ANY meaningful way…unless Harry begs him. In the end, Remus is still an autonomous adult and Harry is a child in need. In this situation, at the bare minimum, Remus has the power to pick up a pen and write.

So why don’t we see this more in fic? You all know I’m a Sirius stan, but I am CONSTANTLY critiquing Sirius’s relationship with masculinity. Sirius is my favorite character, and I LOVE exploring the uncomfortable parts of him—he’s cold when he perceives that he has been emasculated, even belittling Harry when he’s insulted. He’ll put himself in danger to protect Harry when all Harry really wants is for Sirius to be there for him (which Sirius can’t do in OotP). These are the bits that make me queasy—and I love exploring them!

Why not explore the ugly parts of Remus? You say you want interesting, well-rounded characters with chronic illness/disabilities/neurodivergence? Then let them be interesting. Make them complicated and embrace the icky parts of them. If you want, explore how society has created a cold, sad, wet noodle Remus and then GIVE HIM A PATH TO GROWTH. Like… if you don’t like these parts, give him scenarios so he can grow and become a better person.

Anyway, stop fucking throwing around words like “ableism” when you hear something you don’t like about a character. You don’t know the real person behind their username. Most of us here have some sort of disability/neurodivergence/chronic illness, etc, so stop fucking assuming we’re Chad Abled-Bodied or Karen Neurotypical, ffs.

It’s fucking insulting and infantilizing that we can’t discuss complexity in characters who are marginalized in their society. By excusing all of their less than cute actions, you’re essentially saying, “This is not a full human being with a full range of emotion and flaws—they are a perfect little baby who doesn’t deserve reproach, who can do whatever he wants!”

But that’s just me, I guess.

—

* (Also, side note, Moony the werewolf could have very well killed any one of them. Additionally, the theory that Moony couldn’t hurt them in Animagus form was ONLY A THEORY. It might not have worked at ALL and they risked their lives to test it.)

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

What Did You Take?

A One For The Road Bonus Chapter

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 9: Sex Pollen

Summary: Cecil took... something.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing!

Warnings: kissing, swearing, talk of drunks, sex pollen, flesh lights, jacking off, p in v sex, oral (afab! receiving), please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1556

You answer Cecil’s call almost instantly. He was one of the few people who preferred calling (or video chatting) over messaging, always said he liked to hear your voice. 

You liked to tease him that really it was because then he could make sure he was speaking to the correct person, and hadn’t accidentally sent a saucy pic (his dick) to the wrong contact (poor Harry one too many times).

“Hey Cec,” you lean down, grabbing a tin of soup and putting it into your trolley. 

“Hey,” He draws out the word, his voice soft and breathy. He was definitely jerking off. 

“I’m food shopping.” You say with a smile on your face, “Literally grabbing tins.”

“Uh huh,” he swallows, the sound clicking. 

You frown a little, sure Cecil had a big libido, but you were sure even he couldn’t find you picking up ingredients that interesting. 

“What you doing Cec?” You tease.

“Jerking off.” 

“I got that.” 

He whines, a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. “I got the fleshlight between the sofa cushions and I’m…” he moans, “Fuck, it feels really good.” 

“Yeah?” You grin. “Had to call and tell me about it?” 

He hums an affirmative. “I… I can’t…”

You wait a beat, listening to his heavy breathing. 

“I can’t get off.” 

“What?” 

“It’s not working, like, it feels good, so good, but I can’t get to the end.” He whimpers. “I, I took…”

“What did you take Cecil?” Worry spikes into your chest. 

“It’s this… thing,” he always was so helpful with descriptions. “It’s, so it’s meant to make you super horny and keep going,” he groans and you hear a particularly wet thrust in the background, “and I thought because we’re hanging out later that it would be good for you if I was… if I could just keep fucking you and so I took it and fuck.” He sobs.

“Cecil?” 

“It worked so quickly and I feel so hot, and I wanted to just come and take the edge off and I can’t.” His voice breaks at the end.

You’re already at the self-checkout, quickly paying for your items so you can get the hell out of there and over to him. “When did you take it?”

“Ummm,” he groans, the sound of his thrusts growing louder, “about an hour ago.”

“An hour?” 

“And twenty.”

“Cecil! Fuck,” you grab your shopping and head to your car, how long could someone have an erection before they needed to go to the hospital. “So this is like super Viagra?” You say as you sit down and fasten your seatbelt. 

“Sort of.” He groans, “God, talking to you helps actually,” he whines, “Feel so close.” 

“Where did you get this anyway?” You pull out of the parking lot. 

“Benny.”

“Benny?” You swear. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Noo,” Cecil whines, “He’s not that bad, he always gives me good deals, a friend discount.” 

“Cecil, he sold you that weed that had roofies in it.”

“That was an accident-”

“And that ritalin and-”

“Can we not talk about him,” Cecil gasps, “please, I was really close.” 

You pause, “My voice helps?” 

“Oh god, so much.” He whimpers, swallowing thickly. 

“I’m on my way over.” 

He moans loudly, shivering. “Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, need to see you so bad.”

“Can’t leave you alone for a second can I?” You drive through the light on amber. 

“You can’t.”

“Or you’ll go and take weird drugs that could put you in the hospital.”

“You could, um,” he groans deeply, “put me in you or something, I’m sorry, there’s an innuendo there somewhere, I can’t get to it.” 

“Okay, now I know something’s wrong.” You tease, trying to make light of the situation and ease your slowly building tension. 

He snorts through moans, and then whines pitifully. “I can’t come.” A little sob shakes through him. “I need to so, so, so bad. It hurts.”

 “Fuck Cec.” 

You make it to his house in record time, using your key to open the front door and practically throwing yourself inside. 

Cecil is on you before you even get a chance to call out a greeting. 

“You came,” he sobs, he’s naked, his skin flushed and feverish. His heavy cock bobs between his legs as he moves, slick from the lube he’s been using.

“Of course I did,” you stroke his cheeks, looking into his dilated eyes. “I told you I was on the way.” You say soothingly, he still hasn’t become used to you not stringing him along. 

“Thank youuu,” He groans, leaning forward and kissing you messily, slipping his tongue into your mouth eagerly. Drinking in your air like it was his only source. 

“Cec, Cec,” You manage to pull back, your hands on his cheeks.

He whines pitifully as your lips leave his. 

“We should go to the hospital.”

“No, please,” He shakes his head rapidly, “Please, let’s, please, I need you so bad, let’s just fuck and try.”

“Fuck and try,” you snort despite your worry and he grins, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes, yes, try.” He drags you into the living room, yanking at your clothing and kissing your neck. 

“Cec, maybe we shouldn’t in the living room, I mean, Harry’ll-”

He lets out a whine of frustration, taking his mouth off your skin only so that he can pull off your top and undo your bra. He licks your chest eagerly, focusing on one and then the other, his eyes rolling back as he sucks.

You gasp, your fingers instinctively sliding through his hair as he works.

He slips his hands down to your hips, hastily undoing your trousers and pulling them down to your knees. 

“Cec,” you bite your lip, unsure if you should really be doing this and not taking him to the emergency room. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he mutters, but doesn’t stop what he’s doing. He drags you onto the floor, finishes stripping you bare in a matter of seconds. 

He’s everywhere, all over, licking and sucking and moaning in your ear as he squeezes and pinches and impatiently pushes his fingers inside. 

You shiver at the intrusion, a little gulp escaping your lips. You shouldn’t be enjoying this quite so much, having him so desperate and needy for you. 

Cecil whines, gasping and rutting against your leg as he curls his fingers and strokes your walls. “Fuck, oh god, oh god, oh god.”

You don’t even think he realises he’s speaking anymore, just letting whatever thoughts he has fall from his lips. 

Pleasure cracks up his spine, makes his vision spin. He groans, bucking his hips faster as he buries his head between your thighs and sucks your clit into his mouth greedily. 

You swallow, desperately grabbing at him as your body moves with his, chasing after the sensation he’s lavishing upon you. 

He whines, whimpers, so, so close he can almost taste it, but still not close enough. He pulls away from you quickly, muttering apologies at your huff of frustration at the loss. 

“Can I? Can I? Can I?” He kneels, taking himself in hand and notches himself at your core, the words fluttering out of his mouth in such a wanton mess they are nearly indistinguishable from each other. 

You barely get a chance to nod before he’s pushing in, trying to slow the rapid buck of his hips by squeezing the base of his cock. 

“Ohhhh fuuuuuuck.” He sobs, sounding even whinier than usual. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, feels so nice.” He rocks further in, pressing so wonderfully as he stretches you wide. 

“Cecil,” you bite your lip as he just sinks down, thrusting shallowly as he bottoms out and presses his chest to yours. 

“Yeah?” He sounds floaty, lost in the sensation as he rolls and rocks, keeping his length as deep inside as possible while he rubs the base of his cock against your bundle of nerves in a way that has your mind short-circuiting. 

He feels so good like his body was made to fit inside and please you. You grab at his biceps, his curls, moaning against his lips as his fingers dig into your skin in desperation. 

“Fuck, baby, please, ah, please can you squeeze my neck, please,” he splutters, his eyes screwed up so tight. “Gonna come, please, need to, I’ll take care of you after, I promise, I promise, I-”

You put your hand on his throat, a warm strong pressure, barely squeezing, more there to ground him than anything. And he sobs. 

He ruts twice, frantic. His voice rises to an impressive pitch as he comes deep, his orgasm washing over him and robbing him of all other thoughts. 

You expect him to collapse on top of you, nuzzle into your chest. 

But he doesn’t.

He keeps moving, keeps bucking, causing pleasure to race along your nerves.

“Cec?” You bite back a moan, pushing his sweaty curls from his forehead. 

“Fuck, that was so good, so good, fuck.” He grinds his hips, picking up the pace as he fucks his still very erect cock into you. 

“Still hard, gonna come again,” he whines, all high pitched and breathless. “Gonna make you come with me this time.” He bites his lip, looking down at you with hazy, lust filled eyes. 

It was going to be a long night.

Thank you for reading!

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[hollowed-theory-hall]

i have a thought about hinny

so Ginny is obviously pick me (i don't think is bad or good but it's a clear fact in books). so in 5 book she introduces Luna to Harry and Neville and laughs at her. later we see several of their interactions

Luna and Harry become somewhat friends(?) and Harry even invites her to Slughorns' party. in book 7 Ginny tells Harry to go with Luna instead of Cho because she's obviously jealous. i think L is safe-girl for G bc H won't fall in love with her and even more - next to her weirdly behaviour G looks cooler (i love Luna and called her weird from G prospective) and i don't think L and G actually friends, G doesn't seem to have friends or H doesn't really pay attention to so didn't really know her (projecting and obsession whooo)

what do you think about Luna and Ginny so-called friendship and possibly ship?

I'm not a big fan of Linny because I think Luna deserves better.

Again, anyone can ship whatever and this is just how I see the characters and their interactions + my own personal taste.

Like, Ginny definitely thinks there is no chance Harry would like Luna, she doesn't see her as a romantic threat the way she sees Cho. And this leads me to believe Ginny doesn't particularly respect Luna. I mean, Ginny thinks Cho is pretty, good and Quidditch and she likely knows Harry liked her. Luna, on the other hand, even though Harry took her to Slughorn's Party is not seen as a threat because she isn't good at Quidditch or as pretty (probably).

(I mean, Harry tends to be very judgmental of people's looks and he doesn't imply Luna looks bad, just odd due to her accessories mostly. So she probably looks fine. That being said, Harry never calls Ginny "pretty" either, so...

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waistlength, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look.

(OotP, 185))

Ginny does introduce Luna as weird and calls her Loony, so, I definitely don't think they were friends pre-OotP.

“What are you talking about?” said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. “There’s room in this one, there’s only Loony Lovegood in here —” Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone. “Don’t be silly,” said Ginny, laughing, “she’s all right.”

(OotP, 185)

Like, how Ginny talks about her doesn't sound friendly. It sounds demining. Like, she makes polite conversation with her, but she seems to think of Luna as lesser. Like, oh, she's alright, she's just there, like an odd accessory. Idk, their conversations never felt anything other than polite to me.

We do see Ginny, Neville, and Luna hang out later in OotP when they stumble on Harry and Co when they're about to head to the ministry, so I think there is some comradery there that grows throughout OotP.

Additionally, Luna does paint Ginny in her mural, but Luna's friend's mural is actually really sad to me. Like, these friendships are more important to her than to the people she drew. Like, out of Hary, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville, Harry is the one who has the most respect for Luna. even at the beginning when he thinks she's kinda weird, his thoughts are oddly not judgmental. He thinks she's odd, but it isn't attached to judgmental sass (which Harry's the master of). He doesn't mind she says weird shit and actually references it in other conversations, without really thinking anything negative about Luna. Like, I don't see Ginny ever looking up in a Misoltoe and saying there are probably Nargals in it, something Harry does:

“Mistletoe,” said Luna dreamily, pointing at a large clump of white berries placed almost over Harry’s head. He jumped out from under it. “Good thinking,” said Luna very seriously. “It’s often infested with nargles.” Harry was saved the necessity of asking what nargles were by the arrival of Angelina, Katie, and Alicia. All three of them were breathless and looked very cold.

(OotP, 453)

“Mistletoe,” said Cho quietly, pointing at the ceiling over his head. “Yeah,” said Harry. His mouth was very dry. “It’s probably full of nargles, though.”

(OotP, 456)

Harry doesn't know what Nagrals are, but he doesn't care. He wants to ask Luna what they are and doesn't immediately claim they don't exist the way Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville do. Ginny is just not open-minded enough to truly respect Luna and how she sees things and the world.

I think the main reason we think of them as friends is that they don't really hang out enough to blow this image. I mean, in book 7 they do lead what remains of the DA together:

“Well, it got more difficult as time went on,” said Neville. “We lost Luna at Christmas, and Ginny never came back after Easter, and the three of us were sort of the leaders.

(DH, 488)

However, because Ginny doesn't see Luna as a real threat to her relationship with Harry, I think it shows that some of that lack of respect is still there. Like, I believe Ginny, Neville, and Luna grow closer over book 7 due to the circumstances, but I don't see any signs Ginny actually respects Luna as an equal. I think she's alright with her, but looks down on her, and Luna doesn't notice it much due to how desperate she is to have friends.

So, I'm not a fan of Linny because I don't see Ginny really getting Luna, nor does she seem to see her as an equal. And Luna deserves someone who'd be willing to look at the world the way she sees it, or at least be open-minded enough to not think negatively of her for that — neither are things Ginny is.

As for whether Ginny has other friends Harry doesn't notice, I'd say yes and no. Like, she probably has 'friends' of her own she hangs out with and talks to in classes, does homework with and such, but I don't think she has any close friends that she really trusts. I mean, in HBP, when Harry mentions she doesn't usually hang out with them at school, she goes to sit with Dean:

“Fancy trying to find a compartment?” “I can’t, Harry, I said I’d meet Dean,” said Ginny brightly. “See you later.”

(HBP, 136)

Not any friends she hangs out with in classes or does homework with. Her relationship with Dean is relatively new, so he can't be her usual friends.

We also see that when she has real things that concern her and she wants advice for (like getting together with Harry) she asks Hermione:

“I never really gave up on you,” she said. “Not really. I always hoped. . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember?

(HBP, 647)

You could say it's because Hermione is Harry's friend and therefore would know how to answer best about Harry, but I think she really does lack close friends of her own. I think she gets along well enough with most of Gryffindor, but I wouldn't call most or any of her friendships close. At least, not from what we see.

So, I don't think Ginny and Luna are as close as fanon makes them out to be. I think they only really started hanging out in book 5 (their 4th year) and that Ginny never (at least in the books) really saw Luna as an equal to her (or Hermione for that matter, who she seems to respect more). Like, I can't imagine Ginny ever asking Luna for advice. So I can't really see them as a pairing that works without changing either Ginny's or Luna's personality.

[moonchildstyles]

have you thought about revisiting that anon concept about asterry and his girlfriend watching p*rn? I'm asking for a friend hehe

wordcount: 9.8k+

—————

(Y/N) blinked, staying silent as she took in the conversation around her. This was definitely not the avenue she saw the night taking when Charlotte had opened the second bottle of wine between the few of them. 

"I asked him if he still watched it a lot, like as much as he did before we started dating, but he wouldn't really say no," Emily shared before taking a pull from her wine glass, "He didn't say yes, but all he said was that its different now, don't worry. What is that even supposed to mean? Like, do you watch porn when I go to sleep, yes or no?" 

Charlotte and Sarah both laughed, joining Emily as she smiled around the rim of her wine glass. (Y/N) wanted to laugh along, but she was honestly still a bit thrown off by the topic. 

Truthfully, she didn't know really much about anything that had to do with... pornography. The closest she had were the scenes some of her romantic novels had, and movies that had her adverting her eyes.

Not only was the act of sex demonized growing up—especially before marriage—but anything else that had to do with it. There was no way she was going to risk doing any of her own research should her parents' close monitoring catch even a stray google search. 

After getting out from under their thumb, she didn't have much desire to go looking on that corner of the internet—she had done fine enough up to this point, she figured. Then, of course, she met Harry and there really seemed to be no need for any kind of video when she had him in the flesh.

(Y/N) honestly wondered if she had ever even spoken the word porn aloud, let alone discussed it with anyone else. This conversation was especially jarring given all of the giggling and the unfiltered language. 

"Em," Charlotte piped up, bringing her wine glass to her mouth to cover the wry grin growing on her face, "Have you ever tried watching it with him, though?" 

Feeling her cheeks warming, (Y/N) practically sunk into her skin as if to hide from the conversation. Sarah had mimicked her surprise some, though she was decidedly less shocked into silence. 

"Charlotte!" Sarah bubbled, dark brows raised, "Is that what you do?" 

Another peal of laughter came from the wine-soaked group, though (Y/N)'s reaction was more to fit in with the theatrics. (When it came to topics like these, she didn't want to be quiet even if she wasn't necessarily talkative—being too silent left people wondering if she was uninterested, judging them, and invited questions she wasn't looking to answer). 

She had always figured the viewing of those kinds of videos to be something that was done alone. She couldn't fathom anyone joining in and watching alongside what should be a particularly intimate moment. (Besides, if you had someone to watch them with, why watch them at all when you could be with that person?). 

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, opening her mouth before closing it. Emily nudged her at her side, a mischievous smile on her face. 

"C'mon, spit it out." 

Finally, Charlotte threw her hands up in surrender. "It's honestly not that bad, and I think you should try it." 

"So, you have done it!" Sarah called, bouncing in her spot on the couch, "With Elijah or?" 

"With Elijah, yeah," she settled, the wine getting to her tongue as she didn't mind sharing more details, "I walked in on him one time, and I wanted to be grossed out, but I just wasn't. It ended up working out, and now it's just a thing sometimes." 

Charlotte's ending shrug before taking down a gulp of wine showed the end of her story, though Emily still nudged her as if there was more she could shake out. 

"I don't know if I could do that," Sarah admitted, crossing her legs underneath herself, "I think it would annoy me too much, that Mitch was watching a video like that when he could have just called me or something." 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as the conversation then changed, some debate on if videos like that were allowed in relationships. 

She didn't know what she would do if she walked in on Harry watching something like that. While she couldn't really deny that she enjoyed the sight of him playing with himself (something she's shyly learned every time Harry passed his fist over himself before sinking into one of her holes), she wasn't sure what she would think about the inspiration behind the act. There was a part of her that would be offended, she thought, that she was right there and he picked a video over the real thing. Another part of her understood that maybe he wouldn't want to have sex right then, instead opting to take care of himself before moving on. Besides, it wasn't like he had photos of her to look at in the heat of the moment, so she figured she would have to understand. 

There was no use in being jealous of girls in movies anyway. Even if it did kind of hurt her stomach thinking about Harry reacting to them the same way he did to her. 

Around her the conversation had floated elsewhere leaving behind the illicit subject matter for something lighter (a movie Emily had gone to the theater to hate watch only to end up liking it some, and now she was questioning her taste level). She was able to plug into this one much better, that much was evident in the way Sarah had quit giving her small glances as if she knew that (Y/N)'s comfort was twisting. 

Despite now adding her own takes to the conversation and actively engaging outside of a few well placed laughs and head nods, the back of her mind was lagging behind. 

There were questions rattling around that she was sure she wasn't going to be able to keep completely under wraps the next time she saw Harry. 

—————

(Y/N) watched as Harry climbed into bed beside her, comforter pulled up to her chin as she sunk into the warm mattress. He gave her a lopsided smile when he caught her following gaze, her skin warming as she averted her eyes. 

Cuddling in beside her, Harry pulled her close with an arm around her waist, his ankle hooking around hers. She could feel his eyes on her, but when she didn't immediately match his gaze she heard a plume of laughter fall from him, 

"Why won't y'look at me, love?" he smiled, reaching his hand on her waist through the duvet to brush her hair out of her face. 

She shyly kept her eyes on the column of his tattooed throat, following the thorny roses. "You caught me." 

(Y/N) could feel the fan of his laughter as much as she heard it. His hand settled on her cheek then, his fingertips venturing into the baby hairs bordering her hairline. "Yeah, but y'catch me looking at you all the time," he countered, "Jus' lets me know y'like what y'see." 

Using his hand on her cheek, he angled her face towards him once more, forcing her eyes to meet his own. A small smile graced his features, his eyes light with amusement. Tipping his chin just right, he pressed his lips to hers in a delicate kiss. 

When he pulled away his smile had grown, dimples now touching his cheeks as he ran the pad of his thumb over the height of her cheekbone. "Did you have fun tonight, baby?" 

Their dinner date splashed through her head, along with all of the warm feelings she went through while under the dimmed lights. They swapped bites of food, shared a cocktail (Y/N) really wanted to try but was worried it would be too strong, and Harry pulled out any joke he could in hopes of hearing her bubbling laughter through the restaurant. 

Nodding her head against the pillow, her own smile took her features, leaving her cheeks mushed between Harry's hand and the soft of her pillow. "A lot of fun. Thank you for taking me." 

His hand slipped down the slope of her form, settling on the sup of her waist before he gave a gentle squeeze. When (Y/N) reacted with a bubble of laughter, Harry's eyes swam with adoration. 

"I had fun too, baby," he crooned, "Thank you for coming with me." 

With the low lights and the gentle way he spoke to her, (Y/N) felt like she was supposed to be tired. It was kind of her thing, anyway—being sleepy and decidedly ready to pass out whenever. But, that just didn't seem to be the case tonight, her head was too full.

When she had come to his place after class, Harry greeting her at the door, there was a pinging question in the back of her mind that made an abrupt return from the previous night. As much as she wanted to blurt it out, get the curiosity out of the way, it didn't feel entirely appropriate to ask her boyfriend about his porn habits just after walking through the door. That much was made even more apparent given the fact that Mitch greeted her a few minutes later, trekking from his room to the kitchen with a small wave. Then, Harry had told her he had plans to take her out to dinner that night, and there was no way she was asking such a question in the middle of a restaurant. 

There was never good time it seemed, to sate her curiosity and learn her own perspective on what her friends had been talking about. No time better than right now, anyway.

She just had to find some kind of courage to go along with the timing. 

Shuffling closer, the sheets shifting around them, Harry pressed a small kiss to her forehead, right over a crease she hadn't realized was scrunching the skin. "What's going on in here?" he cooed, "You're thinking too hard before bedtime, love." 

"I just—" she bubbled off before stopping her tongue. She swallowed, a pinch appearing between her brows. "There was something... I don't know." 

There were no words that felt comfortable in her mouth, nothing that she could feasibly hear herself saying when it came to the questions she had. (Honestly, she couldn't understand how she was able to utter some of the things she did for Harry between the sheets and now shy away over pornography). 

His hand on her waist was a stern anchor, the grip just tight enough to remind her that he was there. "'S alright, y'can tell me. What is it?" 

Gone was the amusement and the soft teasing he had offered up to her before, instead his voice growing soft and forgiving. Patience now settled in his eyes as he waited on her. 

Dropping her own gaze to dance around his features, she distracted herself with the spray of fine freckles on his nose. "The girls last night, they said something that I've just been... thinking about I guess." 

The warmth of his gaze traced over her own features. "What was it? It wasn't anything rude, right?" 

"No, no, no," (Y/N) rushed out, matching his gaze to show her sincerity. All of those girls were her friends, and Sarah would also never let anything like that happen around her. "It was—I don't know, it feels weird to say it." 

Harry's expression relaxed now that he knew he wasn't there to be nursing any wounds. "We've said a lot of weird stuff to one another, baby. I think I can handle it." 

She couldn't look him in the eye when she tried to speak again, instead dropping back to the tattooed skin of his neck. Her hands between them reached to take his shirt between her fingers, the faded graphic on the material distracting her just enough. 

"They were talking about porn." Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. "With their boyfriends." 

There was a pause, though (Y/N) could feel his unwavering eyes on her face. 

"Okay," he finally shared, the syllable slow as it dropped from his tongue, "That's what's been on your mind?" 

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried to find the next set of words that made sense. "I-I have questions. I think." 

Harry's expression broke into a soft smile she could hear through the delicate huff of laughter he let out. "You think?" 

Peeking up at him through her lashes, she saw his eyes bare of liner, the planes of his face relaxed and rounded, and his hair pushed away from his face leaving it all on display. He didn't look at all bothered by her avenue of conversation, leaving him to be the always open book he was for her, willing and ready to answer anything she needed. 

"Yeah," she said, settling into her skin some, "I knew what they were talking about, but I don't think I really understand it all. I thought I could ask you, if it wasn't weird." 

"Never weird, love," Harry shared, "You know 'm always here to answer anything y'need help with." 

(Y/N) blinked, tipping her chin in a short nod. "Okay, but if there's anything you don't want to answer, you don't have to." 

"'M sure I can answer ever—" 

"Do you watch porn?"

Practically cringing at the sound of her voice wrapped around that question and the fact she spoke it aloud right to Harry, (Y/N) wanted to curl up in hopes of disappearing. 

"Sorry," she started, her voice barely a peep, "I didn't mean to cut you off." 

Harry looked at her for a lingering moment, his brows raised high over his eyes before he melted some. An amused smile sat on his lips, a small puff of laughter exhaling from his lungs. "'S alright," he offered, his hand on her waist squeezing just enough, "Not what I was expecting, but 's okay.

"To answer your question," he drawled, "No, I don't—not since you, really. No need to when I've got my own pretty star, huh?" 

His lips molded into a teasing smile, but lopsided as he pressed forward hoping to catch a small grin from her. 

Keeping her shy gaze dropped, (Y/N) couldn't keep her lips from curling. There was a bit of pride from the flattery; he didn't need any videos when he had her instead. She was enough to satisfy him, and that was a nice thought even if it was a bit in the gutter. 

Spotting her shy smile, Harry let out a plume of laughter before he dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. Knowing him, he probably already knew what was going on in her head, even if she didn't say it aloud. 

"Is that all y'wanted to know, my love?" 

Her fingers in his shirt curled just a bit more, as if she were bracing herself for this next string. "One of the girls, she said something about her and her boyfriend... watching it together," (Y/N) prattled, her voice growing smaller the more she went on, "Is that normal?"

Harry lagged in his response, taking his time with his fingers fiddling with a pulsing pattern on her waist. "It can be," he offered, "but, 's not for everyone. I've never really talked about that with anyone, but I would imagine it could make people feel closer—sharing something that's usually only done by yourself."

(Y/N) silently nodded her head, taking in his offered information. Truthfully, she wanted to stall, find another inconsequential question to stall him before she was left with the last curiosity she'd had burning in the back of her head. 

The avenue she landed on was barely any less humiliating, but it was easy to fall from her tongue than the other she'd had on deck. She still couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke, bubbling off the question before she could second guess herself. 

"Is that something you would want to try? Like, watching it together and all." 

Skating his hand over the curves of her form, Harry tipped her chin up. Their eyes matching, (Y/N) could see the way he scanned over her features the way he always did when he was attempting to decipher where she was coming from. The lines of his features were softened, rounding into soft curves and gentling the longer her gazed at her.

"Is that something you want to try?" 

Flounder under his pressing, (Y/N) understood what he was going for—she was too shy to explicitly voice all of her wants, so he had to fill in the gaps at times—but was still taken aback none the less. Of course the thought had crossed her mind since the previous night, about what it would be like to sit with Harry and watch a different kind of movie than she usually watched with him, but the idea wasn't exactly the most compelling. 

She wasn't sure if she could really handle watching him watch someone else, and potentially become more turned on than he had even been with her. Nonetheless, she had never actually watched any porn herself, and she wasn't sure if she really had any real inclination to change that. 

But, there was something to be said about the way Harry had described the act: sharing someone to vulnerable, that is usually kept private, with someone you trust. He had a way of making these scenes sound much more romantic than the semantics did. 

"I don't know," she settled on, aware of the intensity in his eyes as he watched her, "I've never really watched anything like that, so I don't think I really understand what that would mean." 

Almost imperceptible, (Y/N) was able to catch the way his brows raised just enough. "Really?" 

Tipping her head in an almost shrug between the sheets, (Y/N) pursed her lips. "It was one of those things, you know." 

That was enough of an explanation to Harry; he knew her growing years and the drilled in obedience that followed her even after leaving home. Despite curiosity, there was no way she would have had the confidence to even make a search, that he knew.

A small curve settled on his lips, patience and understanding sitting in his eyes. "Guess that makes sense then, hm?" 

"Just add it to the list," (Y/N) joked back, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. 

His hand on her jawline that he had used to tip her face towards him now angled itself towards the curve of her throat. His palm was warm and agnate over her skin, the pad of his thumb stretching to rest on the hinge of her jaw. "Is it something you want to know more about?" 

"Kind of," she answered honestly, sinking into the fluff of the pillow under her head, "But...Really, I think I only care about what y-you like and all of that." 

It was one of the harder admissions, (Y/N) feeling as if she were asking a bit too much into his personal thoughts. If he wanted to share that part of himself, he would have already, she figured. 

The warmth of his thumb on her cheek expanded as he pet a small trail down to the line of her jaw. "I don't really watch it anymore, love, remember?" 

"Yeah, but," she started, resisting the urge to pin her bottom lip between her teeth, "What about before?" 

When Harry paused, (Y/N)'s fingers in her shirt pulsed in an anxious curl. 

"But, you don't have to answer if you don't want to," she quickly attempted to recover, replaying her words and just how pushy they may have come off.

The amused laughter that fell from his lips was enough to reassure her that she hadn't bothered him too much. "'S alright, baby," he murmured, "I was jus' thinking." 

When he didn't immediately offer any extra information, she couldn't help herself—her curiosity was so close to gaining all the answers she needed, she didn't want it to stop now. 

"About what?" she mumbled, watching intently as he just kept thinking.

Only one side of his mouth curled upwards, his smile going lopsided. "If I should tell you, or show you." 

Now, (Y/N) had no choice but to fall silent around her dry throat. Show her?

Harry let out a small laugh at her reaction, unable to hold himself back before he was pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose between her wide eyes. 

"I take it that I should probably jus' tell you, huh?" he joked, pulling away with a brilliant smile on his lips to match the bright lilypad of his irises. 

Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) spoke up, "Y-You could show me. If you think that would be easier." 

Though the request itself wasn't made with much confidence, she still was surprised it even made its way out of her mouth. Two birds with one stone, she figured, she'd finally see what it—porn—was all about, and learn something new about Harry. 

That was what she was telling herself anyway. 

Raising a single brow over his intense gaze, Harry took in her reaction. "We could do that," he mused, "But, I don't want to do that if it would make y'uncomfortable, love. It can be a bit... much, especially if you have nothing to compare it to." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she allowed her gaze to trace along the line of the single stray curl that rested against his temple. "I think I can handle it," she told him, her voice small as she avoided his eyes. 

Shifting his hand on her neck, Harry brought his palm to rest on her cheek. The pad of his thumb ran along the fragile skin under her eyes. "You are brave, aren't you." 

"I try," she murmured, shy smile evident in her voice. 

She could practically see the gears turning in Harry's head, his eyes flashing with just a glint of something she couldn't name. She was hyper aware of his hand once again gliding over her skin until he was carding his fingers through her hair to rest his palm on the back of her head. She matched her gaze to his bashfully. 

"Are you tired, or do y'think y'can stay up a little while longer with me?"

With a flutter of her lashes, and her heart mimicking the act, (Y/N) tugged herself that much closer to him between the sheets. 

"I can stay awake."  His lips turned into a lopsided smile, a single dimple denting his cheek as he gazed at her. (Y/N) could only tip her chin just so when he surged forward, pressing their lips together in a warming kiss. While it was chaste, there was an urgency behind it that she could feel before he pulled away. 

"Lay the other way for me, baby," he instructed with a jerk of his chin, "I need to grab m'phone." When (Y/N) didn't immediately turn to press her back to his chest, Harry lagged, keeping from reaching for his phone on the bedside. "What's wrong, hm?" 

"I don't get to see you?" (Y/N) murmured, barely keeping the whine out of her voice. She preferred seeing his eyes over everything else, knowing that it was him that was touching her. 

A soft hum of laughter fell from his lips. "'S just gonna be a little bit easier this way, love, that's all. I'll still be right here." 

"'Kay," she answered, though she didn't follow his instruction until he pressed another kiss to her puckered lips. 

With that, Harry reached to the bedside table where his phone was resting while (Y/N) twisted in the sheets to lay on her side with her back to his chest. The duvet folded, leaving her arm and back exposed to the chill while Harry took longer than a few moments to do whatever it is he was doing on his phone. 

She could hear the faint taps of his finger against the screen, scrolling and typing before he eventually curled around her. Harry conformed to the shape of her, his sweatpants-clad legs tangling with her bare ones with his arm hooking around her waist to position his phone before the two of them. He shifted the pillow under his head until she could feel the plume of his breath grazing the column of her throat, warm though it still elicited goosebumps to erupt over her skin. 

(Y/N) could feel her heart bubbling in her chest when she dared to peek at what was on his bright screen. Though there was nothing explicit or exposing on the screen, she was sure they weren't too far off with the dark color scheme of the site he had brought up. 

"Are you sure, love?" he murmured, his lips close to her ear, "We don't have to do this if y'don't want to. It can be a lot right away, and I don't want to scare you." 

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) allowed his words to roll around her head. She wasn't completely naive—she could imagine what the videos would look like, though she doubted it would look or feel the same as it did when she was underneath Harry. But, his earlier definition still stuck with her: this was a small vulnerability he was sharing with her. This is something he would normally have kept so private, but he was willing to bring her in and share something so different with her. 

She could be brave—she could keep her curiosity burning enough to keep from feeling any kind of anxiety. 

"I'm sure," she mumbled, "Thank you." 

Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, Harry hugged her to his chest for a lingering moment. "You tell me if y'change your mind, darling." 

"I will," she assured, despite his words being more of a statement than request. 

Reaching over her, Harry grabbed for his phone and began tapping at the screen. The brightness had lowered from disuse, but was brought back to life from his touch, leaving every frame illuminated once more. Snuggled against his back, (Y/N) watched, her eyes widened once the reality of the site was scrolled through. 

There was already a video pulled up on screen, showing what exactly took him so long to tap through his phone before. (Y/N) blinked, trying to decipher what was in the thumbnail before her. 

From the small snippet she could see—along with the attention grabbing, all caps title—this was a loving couple having morning sex on a Saturday to the sunrise. Very romantic and loving, supposedly. In the picture, she could see the beginnings of a sunrise through a conveniently, perfectly lit bedroom. There were gauzy drapes over their open windows and pristine white linens on their bed—even the creases and folds were artfully tufted around their bodies. (Y/N) couldn't be sure if they were just that perfect, or this was an expertly produced video. She couldn't tell the difference. 

The pair was barely clothed, their faces cut out of frame, leaving their bodies to be the star of the show. The man had tattoos—no where near as many as Harry, but still quite an array. He was undressed down his briefs, where there was a bulge that could be clearly seen against the woman's stomach. She was made of smooth swathes of skin, the ends of her hair visible as it brushed her bare skin before disappearing out of frame, and her chest bare. All (Y/N) could see that was distinctive about her form, was a small tattoo on her thigh in the shape of a red heart outline, contrasting against the white cotton panties sitting on her hips. Their limbs were in a tangle with one another, legs crossed and arms holding one another.

From behind, she could feel the brush of Harry's lips against her throat. "Does this look okay?" 

(Y/N) gave her approval in a small nod of her head, her hair brushing against her pillow. "Have you watched this before?" 

She could hear the curl of his lips in his voice as his words swept across the back of her neck. "A few times, yeah." 

As he spoke, Harry's thumb tapped on the video, pressing play and starting it up. She watched as the frames took over the screen, showing the humble beginnings of the film with the woman crawling over the bedsheets to reach her lover where he was laid back against the pillows. The soft sound of their lips meeting could be heard off screen. 

"W-When?" she asked, her line of questioning a safe distraction from what was going on in front of her. 

The soft sounds of their mouths coming together and parting filtered quietly from his phone. Were they that loud when they kissed too? 

"Not for a while," he reminded her, though his voice dropped lower into a whisper just for her when he spoke again, "Watched it for the first time after that night in my office at the shop though, I remember that." 

"You do?" Her skin warmed at the reminder of that first night—all of the things she learned that night while sprawled out on that couch. 

On video, the man had gripped the woman's hips and settled her atop him from the position she had previously held on all fours. The length of their bodies were pressed together, their faces still just perfectly out of frame to keep everything anonymous. Their kissing had turned rougher, a bit noisier as they sunk into one another. The sun outside their window was casting luminous glares over the scene, giving buttery warmth to their escalating acts. 

Harry's hand on her waist squeezed as he watched. "Yeah," Harry breathed, a heavy kiss landing on the back of her neck, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I saw this video and... she kind of looks like you, doesn't she?"

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat. There was a moment as the woman moved, her body on display against the heavy tattoos of her partner that had her seeing them in just the right light. 

Cotton panties, bare skin, delicate tattoo, all wrapped in white with the slow sharing of kisses between she and her lover. (Y/N) could see herself in that. 

It was an exhilarating feeling knowing that Harry saw someone so effortlessly sexy, and could see (Y/N) in them. 

She pressed herself against him that much more, her back against his chest. His hand on her waist tightened, as if preparing to keep her just where she was should someone try to steal her away. She could feel the fan of his breath fluttering over her skin as she watched his phone. 

The acts between the couple escalated until the camera caught the way the woman ran her hand down the man's body until she had reached his cock. Her palm was pressed against the bulge, rubbing against it through the fabric of his underwear. He moaned unabashedly off screen, whispering something for only his lover to hear. (Y/N)'s lungs squeezed when she saw the way the dots of wetness seeped over the grey underwear covering him. 

"Wh-What else do you like about this video?" (Y/N) murmured, shifting so her hand was laid over his own on her waist, their fingers tangling together. 

A breathy laugh could be heard from behind her. Harry's voice was just as low as he spoke, "Do y'really want me to talk through the whole thing?" 

"I like hearing you more," she admitted, squeezing his hand in hers. 

A delicate kiss was dropped to her shoulder, the curl of his smile evident in the small contact. "Well, other than her reminding me of my angel," he drawled, a tease to his tone, "'S different than some of the things I used to watch. I liked seeing something gentle." 

(Y/N)'s throat bobbed as she swallowed around her dry throat. Before her, the videoed couple had now moved on to sliding their hands into each other's underwear. The man's face was buried in his lover's neck, showing off a head of dark hair as his moans filtering through the small speakers. The woman's whimpering noises could be heard in tandem with the slick sounds of their hands roaming each other's bodies. 

"What was the other stuff you watched?" Absently, (Y/N) was aware of the way her hips shifted some, rubbing her backside against Harry's front. Behind her, against the curve of her bottom, she could feel something much more rigid than the blocks of his muscle beginning to press into her.

He paused before he spoke, mulling over her question while she watched on screen as the few pieces of clothing covering the couple's bodies were shed. Harry's hand on her waist shifted, leaving her own behind as he pressed his palm into the soft of her stomach. She could feel the pressure of his fingertips on her plush skin just as much as she could see the man on screen press against his lover's thigh in the same way. 

"'Member m'birthday?" he murmured into her skin, his mouth beginning a blazing trail over her shoulder. The tip of his nose caught on the neck of her top, pulling it along with him as he kissed the cuff of her shoulder. 

For a split moment, there was a different movie playing for (Y/N). This one featured she and Harry as the stars, celebrating his birthday between the sheets with his cock sinking into her throat, his palm smacking over her center, and his cum painting over her face. She wondered if he could feel the way her stomach tightened under his hand at the memories. 

"Yeah," she answered simply, the word carried on a warm breath. 

He hummed from behind her, a smug curl on his lips pressing into her shoulder. "Things like that, baby," he explained, "But I started watching things like this after I met you." 

The couple on screen was beginning to find the throes of their passion, now both bare bodied and reaching for one another. There was a part of (Y/N) that wanted to shy away at the sight of two strangers and their naked bodies, their recording of an intimate moment not sitting right in her stomach. There was another part of her that imagined Harry sitting down, pants to his thighs and his hand in his lap, picturing she and him in these spots instead as he fisted his cock. That part of her kept her from drawing her eyes away, urging her to see what he did—see what held his attention while waiting for her to be ready for more than easy touching and kisses in his bedroom.

Her mouth felt dry when she tried to speak again, only to be cut off when Harry's palm grazed the waist of her panties. Though she was still only feeling his touch through her shirt, she was sure he could feel the extra groove of fabric and the tightening of her abdomen. Only that much further, and he could fit his hand between her legs just like the man on screen was doing to his own lover. 

"Wh-Why?" she asked, building off of his previous response to keep herself from melting and begging for him to touch her when they had barely just started. 

Hooking his ankle around hers, Harry started pulling her that much more into his embrace. The sheets around them hissed over their bodies, his phone wobbling from its upright position against the pillow though it didn't fall. He pushed his thigh between her own, opening up her legs with the hem of her oversized shirt being pushed up and over her thighs. 

"I liked the idea of going slow, after I met you, love," he detailed, no longer playing around when he finally slid his hand over her form and slipped it under the end of her top, "Didn't really get off on the thought of fucking you as much as I did to kissing you and making y'happy." 

(Y/N) all but melted at his explanation. She reveled in the sound of his voice, mixing with the soft sound of the couple on screen finding their own bliss within one another. Through her hooded gaze, it was easy to see the lovers on his phone as she and Harry, the daydream building around her. 

In a tug back down to earth, (Y/N)'s breath caught when Harry fit his hand between her thighs. His wandering touch had finally reached her, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit and the length of his fingers down her center. She was sure he could feel the heat that had collected there, though she hoped she hadn't completely soaked through her underwear that quickly. 

"Y'like it so far?" he asked, pressing his palm that much harder against her clit. 

"Uh-huh," she breathlessly replied. Her hooded eyes were glued to the sight of the way the man positioned himself above her, thighs open for him to fit between. She could hear him murmur something to her, passing a hand over her form with fingertips skating across her breasts and down to the round of her hips. Every touch was careful and clinging, the sound of their kissing soundtracking the moment. "He reminds me of you." 

He hummed from behind her, his hand beginning to shift over her core in a delicate press to draw away her breath. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," she answered, eyes stitched to the video as the man sunk his cock into his lover, a shrill whine leaving her lips while he settled against her hips. His tattoos quivered as his muscles flexed under his skin, making the stars and constellations inked over his skin dance. "You're better, but," (Y/N) swallowed, hearing the quiet slap of his skin against the woman's as he thrusted against her, "He touches her like you touch me." 

Harry's response came in the form of languid touches that warmed her skin and kept her breathless even when her eyes closed and the video was an afterthought. Underneath her, he fit his free arm to coil around her form. His thigh between her two tensed, lifting just enough so he could spread her own legs enough to give her what she wanted. 

Hooking his fingers into her panties, he pulled them to the side, a cool shiver going up (Y/N)'s spine now that she was exposed to his touch. He dragged his fingertips through her slit, collecting the drops of slick until he circled around her clit in languorous pulls. 

She had never been so thankful for the stretched out neckline of her top as she was then, when she felt Harry's heavy kisses searing into her bare skin. There was so much of him all over, pressing into her back with his cock hard against her, his kiss on her shoulder, and his hand on her core, pulling more and more air out of her lungs. 

"You know how many times I thought about doing that to you, baby?" he drawled into her skin, syrupy and thick into her pores, "Before y'were ready, this was all I had. Had to picture you letting me spread you out like that, feel how wet you were jus' for me." 

With his hand between her thighs, slick fingertips on her clit before they traveled down towards her pulsing opening, she could have cried for him. She had been depriving him of this, leaving him to only watch videos and imagine, when they could have been doing this so much sooner. She wasn't sure at times—especially at one like this—how she had even made it through without his touch. 

"I'm sorry," she stuttered out for him, her hand grasping at sheets, "Yo-You should have told me." 

A rumble of laughter was felt against her back as much as she heard the sound fan to her ears. "Don't be sorry, lovebug, y'jus' weren't ready yet, that's all. I think we're making up for it jus' fine, don't you?" 

She could only nod her head, forcing her eyes to blink open. It was a task given the fact that she was still luxuriating in the tease of his fingers passing over her entrance before smearing her clit and restarting the circuit. Looking ahead, she had seen that the couple on film was thick in their session, breathless, the man straining himself as he set a controlled pace while thrusting into his partner with the woman grasping and reaching for any part of him she could reach. Watching the way the man's skin turned pink in the wake of her nails made (Y/N) want to do the same to Harry—what would the roses on his chest and the butterfly on his torso look like filled in with a bit of color? 

"I want to see you," she blurted out, unable to hold back anymore. She didn't care much for the movie anymore anyway, he was what she wanted. This video would probably still be there later, they could explore more later, if she really wanted. 

A teasing smile could be heard in his voice, the notion making (Y/N) want to feel embarrassed through she didn't have much room for that given the way she was rutting into his hand. "Y'don't want to keep watching? I thought y'liked it, love? Liked him?" 

"I like you," she countered, already turning in his arms despite the coil of his hold around her, "I want to see you now. You're better." 

He didn't put up any more teasing argument, instead helping her as she twisted and turned in his arms until his phone was forgotten in the tufts of the duvet and she had her lips pressed to his. His and that had been between her legs was now stationed at her hip, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as she melted into him. A sigh of something that felt like relief to (Y/N) slipped from her throat.

Harry parted his lips, swiping his tongue across the seam of her mouth, tasting her noises. Reaching for his bare shoulders, (Y/N) wasn't even thinking before she had the blunt of her nails pressing to his skin, just like the woman in the video. (Who must have been having a good time given the faint noises (Y/N) could still hear among the folds of their bedding). 

She readily opened her mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, eager to get a state of him. He led her through the kiss, pressing his tongue to hers and tasting through every delicate moan and breathy exhale she gave. 

This was definitely better than watching a video. 

"Harry," she mumbled into his kiss, barely enunciating before she was urging to press her lips to his once more. 

He smiled against her mouth, allowing a small slew of her excited kisses to hit him before he pulled away enough to meet her eyes. His pupils were wide and dark, leaving only slices of murky green to ring around them. There was a flush over his cheeks, warm and red that matched the hue of his kiss-swollen lips. She couldn't help her eyes but to follow the tip of his tongue as it peeked out to wet his lips. 

"What do y'want from me love?" 

Her answer was automatic: "You." 

(Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the dimple that was thumbed into his cheek as a lopsided curl took his lips. "I know," he said, much too smug, "But do y'want me to keep touching you? Or do y'want more, love? Gotta tell me or I can't help you."

Her mind flashed to the vision of the man fitting his hips against his lover's like a puzzle piece, sinking inside her and straining his muscles to making the best pace for her. That was what (Y/N) wanted. 

"I want more," she told him, her voice a whisper between just the two of them, "Like the video."

Harry drew closer towards he, his smile fading as the blunt of his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. "I can do that for you, baby. Do you think you're ready for me, or do y'need a little more?" 

She shook her head on instinct. "I'm ready." 

Tipping his chin, Harry pulled her into another languid kiss with his tongue touching over her lips. His kiss was a welcome distraction while his hand reached for the waist of her panties underneath the hem of her top. He pushed them down her thighs as far as he could before he was forced to break their kiss to help ease them off the rest of the way. (Y/N) felt clingy for him in that moment, already missing his touch and warmth. It wasn't much longer that he pulled his own underwear off, everything landing into a pile on the floor, before he was laying himself atop her. 

Much like the movie, she swore their hips fit like puzzle pieces together, the bones cushioned by plush skin. She reached for his arms reflexively, though she hadn't meant to grip him so tightly until she felt the head of his cock nudge against her clit. Her lungs squeezed with a coiled ribbon cinching around her stomach. 

Above her, Harry was like an angel. His eyes were bare from his usual liner, though there were still the stark black additions of his nose and lip rings pierced through his face. His skin was flushed and warm, cheeks matching his bright eyes. Around his features, his curls hung around in waved strands and curled ringlets. It wasn't the first time she had seen him like this and wondered if he was the true angel between the two. 

"Still feel good, love?" he asked, his hands fisted into anchors on either side of her head. 

Matching the intensity of his eye contact, (Y/N) kept herself from shrugging her hips against his own, wanting of feel along heavy brush of his cock against her center. "Uh-huh," she sounded, throat dry, "Please."

 Only a glimpse of his smile could be seen before he was dipping down to draw her in for another kiss. He sealed his mouth to hers, kissing her top lip delicately with the soft sounds of their lips parting and coming together to fill the room. 

For a moment, (Y/N) wondered if they would look like that couple if they were on film. If their love, and the gentle touches, and the shared heartspace could be seen just as easily. She liked to think they would do it even better. 

One of his hands on the bed disappeared, the mattress shifting without the weight, before she felt it again over the small of her stomach. It was nothing more than a soft brush before he had his fist wrapped around his cock, guiding himself inside her. The head brushed against her clit in a heavy press; she couldn't tell if she was more wet than she thought or if he had been pearling dots of precum from his tip while she was preoccupied. 

He slid his tip through her folds until he hit the pulsing entrance nestled inside. (Y/N) shivered, letting out small noise into his mouth. She could tell her was becoming distracted, his kiss slowing until he was doing nothing other than focusing on the slid of his cock through her wetness, socking in her until he finally pressed forward. 

It was a familiar stretch, the head fitting inside her, but it still took her breath away. Especially now that their box of condoms was pushed to the back of his bedside drawer, barely used unless she asked, she was able to feel every ridge and vein on his cock. She felt more and more full with every inch pushed inside her, her walls pulling him in while she attempted to keep kissing him before giving up on the act in favor of simply resting her parted lips against his own.

Harry's guiding hand had shifted to lay on her hip, his touch a bit slick though neither of them minded. He was just as lost in the feeling as he was with the way he let out shuddering breaths with stilted lungs, his hand on the other side of her head now holding a tremor. His breath came out in warm fans over her features, heating her that much further. 

He bottomed out with a wet sound of his cock sliding through her walls, his base resting heavy against her clit. (Y/N)'s hold on his arms tightened at the feeling, nails leaving imprints on his skin. 

Her heartbeat bubbled in her ears as she got her bearings, coming to with a flutter of her eyes only to see harry already looking at her with his own hooded gaze. 

"You alright?" he breathed, dilated eyes scanning over her features, "Do y'need me to wait?" 

"No, no," she bubbled off, "Please, daddy." 

That was all he seemingly needed to hear—the whine of her voice and his title so lovingly mentioned—before Harry was rearing his hips back and pressing into her once more. He split her open, her walls stretching and opening for him to fit inside with every languid thrust. The first few took her breath away, getting used to the feeling of the friction and every part of her body being fulfilled by him. 

"Daddy," she helplessly called out, her voice a shared secret for just the two of them. The sheets hissed around them, matching her volume. 

Harry watched her form above as she struggled to keep her eyes from closing. She wanted to see him; this is what she had been wanting when she decided to ditch the movie. She wanted to watch him the way they had watched the couple. 

"'M here, baby. 'M here," he murmured, his voice dropping low as his mouth fell into a gape. "Feel so good, love—fuck." 

Spurred on by his praise, (Y/N) hiked her this over his hip, the heel of her foot pressing into the back of his thigh. Her plush skin gave way to the angles of his body, cushioning him as he drove his hips into hers in lingering passes. His hand on her hip shifted then, dragging her sleep shirt the rest of the way up until her bare breasts were exposed to the heat of the room. 

His palm dragged over the swell, her nipple catching on the creases of his skin. Goosebumps erupted over her form, her lashes fluttering at the touch. Harry dipped his head down, pressing his lips to her other breast, the tip of his nose skimming across before he wrapped his mouth around her nipple. His tongue touched over the bud, warming her though she could feel the skin tightening in response. He matched the pace of his wandering touch on her other breast, allowing her to feel him in every place she needed. 

Almost. 

Feeling the base of his cock press against her clit wasn't enough. She needed more than that fleeting touch against her, more than just the harsh smear over her weeping center. 

"Daddy, I—" she cried out, her words evaporating when she felt him twitch inside her. 

"'S okay," he shushed her, his mouth popping off of her nipple before he dragged his kisses towards her collarbone, "'M here, baby. I'll give y'anything y'want." 

His words were nothing more than smeared rambles, but they sank perfectly into her brain. He was here—he had her. He wasn't a silly video, he was real and she could feel his weight and his touch and even his heartbeat. 

"I want—" she stumbled, her words failing her in the heat of the moment, "I need—Please, touch me." 

"I am touching you, baby," he countered, looking up at her through his lashes before finally leveling his gaze with hers. He hovered above her, his eyes still finding hers even as he jostled her with every thrust into her. "Y'need to tell me what y'want, and then I can help."

"My—It's—"

(Y/N) almost felt panicked, instead reaching for his hand on her breast to push it down to the apex of her thighs. His wrist strained under her hand when he realized when she was directing him towards. That was all the cue he needed before his thumb was smearing over her clit, circling and patting the bud just as she had wanted. 

All but melting into the mattress, the beginnings of a cocky curl fell on his lips. "This was what y'wanted, my love? Coulda jus' told daddy—would have done it for you earlier." 

Maybe it was feeling him splitting her walls open, slick with his precum, his hand on her clit, or the sound of his voice wrapped around his honorific, but (Y/N) could feel the bow in her abdomen tightening. 

She could only whine for him, tightening her fingers around the bones of his wrist as he kept his ministrations up. His skin glimmered in a sheen of sweat, baby curls sticking to his temples as he took care of her just as he promised. 

He caught her looking, matching his eyes to hers when she dared to travel her gaze to his clumped lashes. She expected a curl of his lips, a flash in his eyes, something teasing and smug to enter his expression. Instead, she saw the way his face rounded out, the harsh angles that usually made him up now fading into soft lines and curved edges. 

"I love you," he murmured, "So much, (Y/N). You know that?" 

This was a moment she wished she had on video, exactly from her perspective with every detail memorialized. 

Releasing her hands on his wrist and arm, she settled her palms on his cheeks. Despite the rocking of their forms, the rustling bedsheets, and his phone lost somewhere at seat, (Y/N) almost forgot about everything but his touch. 

"I love you too, honey." 

Something flashed through his gaze then, but it was decidedly softer, more delicate than anything she had ever spotted before. She never called him by many pet names, preferring his name (it was the name of the man she was in love with, she couldn't think of a better thing to call him), but there were moments she thought he might like the extra love falling from her lips.

Harry didn't waste any longer than a beat before he was smearing his lips against hers. The kiss was messy and clumsy, just off center with his tongue swiping out before she was ready, but she loved it. This was what she wanted, what had been on her mind throughout the video. 

He put more of himself into her, his hips picking up pace and his hand on her clit quickening. She felt the press of his chest every time he sank in deep inside her, splitting her walls and making more room for him than she even knew she had. Her insides clenched around him, sucking him deeper every time he sank back inside. The ribbon in her stomach was beginning to fray at the edges, unravelling more and more.

"B-Baby," Harry breathlessly crooned, pulling away just enough so she could hear, "Where do y'want m'cum? 'M al-almost there—fuck." 

She didn't have to think before she was answering him, "Inside, inside. Please, daddy. I want it inside."

There was one more twitch of his cock inside her, his head nudging against what felt like her stomach, before there was nothing left of her to give. The fraying ribbon gave way, spooling too tight inside before falling apart. She shredded around him, feeling like nothing more than glimmering fabric laying in his arms for him to toss and turn whichever way he wanted. She could feel herself grow wetter, Harry's cock slicking through her opening. 

(Y/N) clung to him, her hands on his cheeks keeping him close as she attempted to kiss him through her hazy mind. It was nothing more than her gaped mouth dropped open against his own, nothing more than absent calls of his name falling from her throat. 

Barely, she could hear Harry mumbling a declaration—that he loved her—over and over against her mouth. She felt entirely too full, everything too much, when she realized he was cumming. Just as she had begged, he let go inside her, painting her walls in pumps of his cum that mixed with her own. She wouldn't be surprised to feel the aftermath dripping over her thighs. 

By the time Harry's bedroom came back to fruition around her, (Y/N) wasn't sure if she had been breathing properly since he landed atop her. Everything around her was wispy, not quite real, other than Harry himself. He was a comforting weight, an anchor she clung to. 

Sinking atop her, he rested his cheek on top of her chest. His nose skimmed her throat as he nuzzled closer to her, the length of his lashes tickling her bare chest. 

"Y'alright, love?" he murmured, just as out of breath as she was. 

"Mhm," she hummed, wrapping her arms around him in a clumsy hug, "I love you too, by the way." 

A rumbling laugh fell from his chest. "Love you more." 

With a small kiss being pressed to her sternum, harry began to untangle himself from her hold. He righted her shirt on her torso, covering her chest and keeping out the call that was beginning to seep over their sweat-glimmered skin now that the sheets had slid off of them.

"Where are you going?" she almost whined, reaching for him when he shifted out from between her cushioning hips. 

His smile was tender, affection swimming in his lightening gaze as he looked at her. He brushed a stray hair out of her face, keeping her features clear for his admiration. "We've gotta clean up, love. Can't go to bed like this, can we?" 

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) didn't want to answer him. He was right—she needed to use the restroom and find a different pair of underwear for the night, while Harry inevitably searched for new sheets to change the bed into. But she didn't want to do that right now. She didn't want to walk around on wobbly legs, and go through her designated drawer, or anything else. She didn't want to touch anything that wasn't him. 

Instead, (Y/N) clung to him, using her weight to tug him down until he finally relented. Harry gave in with a sigh though he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. 

"Five more minutes, 'kay?" he bargained, cuddling her into him with her face in his throat and chin on the crown of her head. He even tugged the sheet up to blanket their forms once more, keeping her warm before patting her hip through the material.

(Y/N) smiled, pecking a small kiss to his neck. 

"Five more minutes." 

She'd stretch it until ten. 

—————

I finally got around to this request so thank you for everyone bein patient!!!! thank you for reading, sorry for any mistakes and if there's any ideas or requests you have send them in !!!

[ceilidhtransing]

I'm extremely done with electionposting but I feel like there's one huge elephant in the room that's barely being talked about vis-à-vis the whole issue of non-voters. I see so many posts to the effect of “does the result really indicate that the people who didn't vote are bad, or that the Democrats simply failed to convince them to vote for Harris?” and I have to talk about that.

Obligatory clarifications because people are understandably very heated at the moment and I know people will jump to take this entire post the wrong way:

I know that the tens of millions of people who did actually vote for Trump are much, much more of a glaring active problem than the people who didn't vote at all.

I know that it is, overall, in most circumstances, bad to assert that a candidate is just “owed” your vote, rather than having to win your vote.

I know that Trump's base is unpersuadable and will vote for him whatever happens. I'm not talking about them; I'm talking about non-voters, particularly anyone who voted Democrat in the past but didn't show up this time.

I know that it's shitty that people should have to settle for a candidate they don't like very much because that's the only way to avoid a much greater evil. It's a rubbish situation to be in, but Harris and Trump were the only viable options presented at this election, and nothing changes that.

I know that some people abstained as a (extremely misguided and counterproductive) “protest” against the situation in Gaza. But if the numbers we're seeing are accurate, Harris lost 15 million voters compared to Biden, and I really can't see all of those being “protest-abstainers”. Some of them will be, but clearly a lot of people simply didn't show up, and if you reply with something like “well not doing a genocide would have helped them!” I will just assume you haven't read this. I'm not actually talking about the “protest-abstainers”, I'm talking about the passive non-voters.

I know that the Democrats are hardly, hardly perfect and that a lot of people do not trust them to deliver the kind of meaningful change that they need. Trust me, whatever criticisms of the Democrats you have, I know. They are tangential to the actual point of this post.

But it is properly mind-boggling to me that we have got to a point where we genuinely talk about people needing to be “convinced” to vote against a candidate so thoroughly, off-the-charts terrible as Trump, and as far as I'm concerned it speaks to the incredible job much of the media has done for the last I don't know how many years at continually normalising and sane-washing him, his ideas, his actions, and his speech.

If we were to teleport back to some time significantly before the Trump Era - before US politics got quite so wild, before it became in any way “normal” for a president to rack up an uncountable number of the kind of scandals that individually would have sunk any previous president but which are apparently just the way things are now - and comprehensively describe Trump to the average voter, and then say that he's in an election against a very standard middle-of-the-road don't-rock-the-boat Democrat, and ask “one of these is going to be the president; how are you voting?” the response is very likely to be “fuck me, the Democrat obviously! jesus christ just don't put that guy back in charge!”

Trump is such an appallingly bad candidate on literally every front that I can hardly believe the conversation focuses on whether Harris did enough to convince people to vote for her rather than the fact that Trump himself has spent most of the last decade doing what should be an incredible job at convincing people to vote for her.

And I know the general adage about “people need to be convinced to vote for a candidate, not just against another candidate!” but fucking hell, when one of the candidates is THAT GUY, it really should not take much at all to convince you to vote for whoever isn't him. Where's that meme about Any Statewide Election in North Carolina that has “Adolf Fucking Hitler” winning against “Bland Normiedem” 49% to 48%? Because that's what it feels like when people talk about voters just not being hyped enough by the Harris campaign to vote for her. “Yeah, I know Adolf Fucking Hitler is pretty terrible, but Bland Normiedem just hasn't done a good enough job at winning my vote, and really both sides are bad, you know?”

The thing is that all of the things people say about “you need to run a positive campaign, not just a negative one” and “you need to earn people's vote, not just take them for granted” and “you need to have a good reason to vote for you, not just that you're not the other guy” etc I totally, absolutely agree with - in a normal election with normal politics and normal candidates! None of what we're seeing with Trump is, or should be, normal! “You won't need to vote again” isn't normal, “dictator on day one” isn't normal, running with the intimate support of a bunch of christofascists who are open about their desire to turn America into an authoritarian hellscape isn't normal, and it has been utterly maddening to see people treat this as just another standard uninspiring election and not a code red “for the love of god stop this guy” situation! To use that reference again, it is an absurdity to frame things in terms of Bland Normiedem needing to run a great campaign to convince people to vote for him when his opponent is Adolf Fucking Hitler!

There are many questions to be asked about this election, but re: people not showing up to vote for Harris, a major one that needs to be asked far more often is “how the fuck did Trump and his whole campaign become so normalised to voters that “whether you're persuaded enough by Harris's campaign” is even a serious question? how is Trump Being Trump not persuasive enough for most people?” And this post is long already, but the media has a lot to answer for regarding how they have consistently sane-washed what he's said, normalised his positions, hell, normalised the fact that he's even running in the first place given his many crimes and the way he responded to losing the last election. Trump's enormous base is absolutely the most pressing problem, but this time around that base has been directly enabled to trample everyone else by millions and millions of people apparently just not being “motivated enough” to stop him. That is also a problem.

In no sane circumstances should Trump be a candidate that you have to be extensively, enthusiastically persuaded to keep out of office, and yet here we are, talking about how well or badly Harris convinced people to vote for her when literally everything about Trump ought to have been doing a good enough job of that anyway. How the fuck did any of this become normal? How the fuck did we reach a point where anyone - especially previous Democrat voters - is looking at these two candidates and going “eh, I'll just sit this one out, Harris hasn't done enough to earn my vote”?

(And in case I haven't been sufficiently clear, please don't reply to this with any variation of “she should have done xyz!” or “maybe if she hadn't done xyz!” This is not about debating her strategies or the merits of her campaign. A different discussion is the place for that. My point is that Trump is so out-of-this-galaxy leagues worse than her in every conceivable way that she shouldn't have had to “run a brilliant campaign” in order to sweep votes from the tens of millions of Americans who aren't Trump's base. Anyone like her running against Trump should have won in a fucking landslide and the fact that she didn't is not just an indictment of “a campaign that didn't do enough to persuade people” but also an indictment of the electorate and of the media's continual normalisation of Trump. To place blame entirely on “well she didn't run a good enough campaign” - as if in a race between Bland Normiedem and Adolf Fucking Hitler the whole focus should be on the merits or demerits of Bland Normiedem's campaign rather than the fact that Adolf Fucking Hitler is Adolf Fucking Hitler - is to miss an enormous part of the picture and also to reinforce the normalisation of Trump as just any other standard reasonable candidate. It's to buy into the whole deeply false “both sides” thing that the media loves to do, where we go “well Candidate A here is a near-octogenarian quasi-fascist wannabe dictator and convicted felon running on a platform infused with Christian nationalism and hardcore authoritarianism, who refuses to accept he lost the last election and essentially tried to hold onto power by force, and who has spent the last four years in countless trials regarding all the insane crimes he got up to both during and outwith his presidency, but on the other side, how watertight really are Candidate B's policies?” and pretend the two candidates are even remotely equivalent or comparable, and this very approach is a huge part of the problem.)

[anghraine]

This isn't going to turn into All US Politics All The Time blog for four years (all going about as well as possible). And I don't begrudge anyone finding comfort where they can from the various state-level small victories—the GOP losing their incredibly corrupt supermajority in NC and failing to take the governor's seat, various state measures to protect or at least advance abortion rights, my candidate for governor winning in my own state, decent performances in a lot of House races, the predictable Senate disaster not being quite as bad as it might have been in this environment.

But for me, there is something discouraging about these as well, and something overlooked in the comparisons to the 2020 election. To me, the obvious point of comparison is less 2020 than 2016.

[This is not an even slightly positive post—putting most of it below the cut so you can skip if you don't want further doom 'n gloom.]

Trump's victory in 2016 was more shocking, yes, but it came with a lot of qualifications. Most obviously, the majority of people who voted in 2016 didn't vote for him, and while this didn't change the result of the election, it did affect the sense of what was going on nationally. Hillary Clinton, a flawed candidate under investigation during the election (however obviously politically motivated that investigation—and it was reopened right before Election Day) and the object of a 30-year misogynistic campaign of relentless, unabashed right-wing and journalistic hatred, and the leader of a campaign that made some clear tactical missteps, was preferable to Trump for the majority of voters even without certainty about what his administration would do. And people could and did lie to themselves about what a Trump administration would be like because he was a posturing blowhard who'd never held office. I always thought "Trump's just saying stuff, he's really going to outflank Hillary from the left!!!" was stupid as fuck, but it's a thing people convinced themselves of.

But in 2024, we know how bad the Trump administration would be (and there's no reason to think this one won't be worse—quite the opposite). We saw how his COVID response made a bad situation orders of magnitude worse to the point that morgues were overflowing with dead bodies. We know about how unethical he is because he's been found legally liable in relation to crimes of corruption and rape. He encouraged a coup to overthrow the last election. And Kamala Harris has far less political baggage than HRC did, is more progressive, ran a better campaign, had no October Surprise, and yet is losing the popular vote quite badly (right now, with 89% of the vote counted, Trump is ahead by about five million votes).

And seeing that people are voting to protect abortion rights in their state or ousting obviously corrupt state officials etc and then also voting for Trump is on one level—okay, so ordinary voters only sort of align with the cackling evil of GOP politicians' schemes and will at times vote to restrict their awful policies even in very red states. On a pragmatic level, that's better than being fully aligned with those policies. But on another level, I find it appalling. This loss isn't about any particular policy and I think you're fooling yourself if you think any One Magic Trick could have changed this result—that was possible in 2016, potentially, but not in this election. A lot of people are voting against specific Republican agendas and then voting for Donald Trump and JD fucking Vance.

Obviously racist misogyny (and misogynoir particularly) is likely a major culprit given that this disparity wasn't present even in far more unfavorable-on-paper conditions in 2016 against a profoundly unpopular white woman after an eight-year Democratic administration. There's the weird cult of personality around Trump. Etc. But I'm also thinking about how the most successful period for Democrats during this cycle was when they veered away from anything to do with actual policies and were like "these Republican politicians are the weird freaks with bad vibes actually." I'm thinking about how the vast majority of the country went significantly rightwards even in many places that Harris or Democrats won.

And it's like... maybe we won't become an autocracy, maybe he'll have another disastrously awful administration that isn't as much worse than the first as we fear, and public opinion will turn against him again and his sheer unpopularity will drive backlashes favoring Democrats in 2026 and 2028. But even that best case scenario isn't fixing what's wrong here.

[purplecoffee13]

The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 2*

Summary: “The official fake dating can commence, and so can the exploration of a whole bunch of new… feelings.”

Wc: 4.9k

Tropes: semi-enemies to lovers (she hates him)

Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, smut (f!receiving), a sudden deep analysis of wuthering heights followed by smut

*2 weeks later*

I'm going to move to Italy, seriously.

Ever since Harry and I arrived at the airport I haven't been able to stop myself from gawking at everything I've seen. That includes Harry's relatives, proving that his entire family consists of solely good genes.

The flight was excruciatingly long and a bit uncomfortable. Harry taught me as much as he could about his family, and we both complained about the hernia we were getting from our bad seats. Nevertheless, we both attempted to sleep, and I accidentally dozed off while leaning on his shoulder.

One of Harry's cousins, Matthew, picked us up at the airport. He was particularly fascinated with my existence, almost as much as I was with his accent. I love English accents, I could listen to them for hours on end.

Matthew led us to our room in the Villa and gave Harry a pat on the back before leaving us alone to unpack and get ready to meet the family.

"He's nice." I note, throwing my backpack on the Queen sized bed we have in this room.

"He's a little shit." Harry chuckles, earning a furrowed brow from me. He waves it off, literally, and sits himself on the bed. "You'll see."

We stay fairly quiet for the rest of the time, unpacking our stuff and freshening up. Well, mainly me, because Harry doesn't have to do half the things I do to look good. It's so much easier being a man.

I shoo Harry out of our bedroom and put on a long, brown dress with a wide slit and some floral print on it. As soon as I've changed, I open the door to the bathroom so he knows it's okay for him to walk back in. When he does walk back in, we both catch each other off guard.

While he is analyzing the dress that is currently clinging to my body, I'm gawking at his shirtless chest. My cheeks start to heat up when I realize that I'm staring, but luckily Harry doesn't notice because he's too busy staring at me. Then, he clears his throat.

"Nice dress."

"Thank you." I throw him a small smile.

It doesn't take long for Harry to get dressed and soon enough we are walking from our room to the villa, where the welcome dinner will be held, or at least that's what it said on the card that Harry handed to me on the plane.

We sit down at our assigned seats at one of many round tables. I don't miss the name tags of Harry's parents, and I'm glad to find that Matthew will also be sitting at our table. It will make things a bit less nerve racking.

Harry places his hand on the small of my back as he guides me to his mother. He looks just like her, and by the warm smile on her face, I realize that it probably won't be as bad as I might think it would.

"Mum, this is Y/N. The girl I've told you about. She's my girlfriend." The words leave his mouth in a way that makes me think someone is holding a gun to his head, and I can tell that his mother thinks the same thing.

"I'm Sheila." She introduces herself, nonetheless. I can tell that she is skeptical of me, despite the warm smile on her face. I know it's a genuine one, but I know that she knows her son, and she'll see something is up if he doesn't get his act together.

"This is Tom." She turns to a tall man that I immediately recognize as Harry's father. He doesn't have a lot of facial features from his dad, except for the nose, that is exactly the same. But the way he carries himself, the way he extends his hand for me to shake, those are the aspects that make Harry identical to his father.

We chat with his parents for a little, telling our wonderfully fake story of how we met. Tom keeps nodding but doesn't seem fully convinced. Not because he doesn't believe it, but probably because of the girl he'd rather have his daughter be with; the reason I'm here in the first place. Sheila remains skeptical, but that is just because she can see right through Harry.

So when his parents leave to get some food from the buffet, I'm quick to swat his arm.

"Ow!" He hisses at me.

"You're a terrible actor, do you know that? Your mom is totally on to us!" I say in a soft tone, but it doesn't discredit my disapproval.

"I'm sorry okay! It's hard to lie to her." He responds, and the confession makes my heart melt a little.

I let him off with a roll of the eyes and we join the queue for the buffet. During dinner, Matthew promotes himself to main entertainer of our table by telling countless of stories about him and Harry and all of their antics from back in the days. Harry seems slightly embarrassed sometimes, but he finds it funny nonetheless.

In an attempt to make me and Harry seem like more of a real couple, I take it upon myself to touch him during dinner. Just casual touching. Some hand-holding—above the table so everyone can see of course—and the occasional leg rub. It's only halfway through dinner that Harry finally initiates some touches to, and I have to bite my inner lip at the way his hand feels wrapped around my thigh.

After dinner, a few tables are removed in order to create a dance floor. People are quick to get on it, but Harry refuses to come along with me. Matthew doesn't let the opportunity to bust a move pass, so I leave my purse with Harry and get on the dance floor with him.

We have a big laugh, Matthew and I. He spins me around an absurd amount of times, dramatically dances the tango with me while a pop song is playing, and throws out some moves that I haven't seen since I played Just Dance when I was eight years old.

After a while I decide to retire from the dance floor and get a drink. Matthew offers to accompany me, and for a second I contemplate whether I should say yes. Then I figure, he is a part of Harry's family and I need as many of them on my side for this whole act to be believable, plus I'll be able to get Harry a drink.

We walk over to the bar and order our drinks, Matthew is quick to spark up a conversation as we wait for our beverages.

"How long have you been together again?" He asks, looking over at me with a smirk.

"A month, officially." I reply, and he raised his brows in surprise.

"Only a month, huh?"

"Like I said, officially." I tilt my head, a mischievous smile on my face. He leans over in my direction, with eyes ready to play, and I immediately start to wonder if the head tilt was too flirty instead of funny and playful.

"And unofficially?"

"Almost three months." I divert my eyes back to the drinks that are put in front of me, and thank the bartender.

"Is it serious? Between you two?" He asks, and I don't like the glint of desperation in his voice. Is this what Harry meant, when he said 'you'll see'? Is this guy seriously trying to hit on his cousin's date?

"Well, I cancelled spring break plans with my family, so I sure hope it is." I flash him a smile before taking the drinks and walking back to Harry.

He's sitting alone, despite most every seat around him being taken. Not talking to anyone, not on his phone, just staring into the nothingness. When I approach, he's thrown out of his trance and his eyes follow me instead as I make my way to him and hand over his drink.

"Whiskey on the rocks." I tell him. He smiles at me, putting the glass on the table and grabbing my now free hand. His legs are spread, so he pulls me closer until I'm standing in between them. He looks up at me, and the sole color of his eyes makes my hands sweat profusely.

"Are you having fun?" He asks, his head tilting just like mine did a few seconds ago.

"I am," I say, looking around a bit. "But my legs are a bit tired... Is there a free chair behind you?"

I squint at something that looks like a chair, but I can't really make it out from this angle. When Harry doesn't respond, I look down at him, and find that he was already looking at me. He grabs my waist and pushes me in a bit. Confused, I let my body follow his silent demands, and watch him sit up straighter before pulling me onto his lap.

My back leans against the table, and my legs are thrown over his left one. I hold my drink in my right hand while my left is slung over his shoulder for 'support'. My cheeks flush at the realization that my ass is right on his groin, but I try to make it seem as if it doesn't affect me at all. He holds my waist with his right arm, tracing his fingers around in a way that makes my body shiver.

My eyes fly to my left thigh when he puts his other hand on it, and I try to steady my breathing as much as humanly possible while the tingling sensation between my legs becomes too adamant for me to ignore. The low chuckle that leaves Harry's mouth isn't missed by me, and it makes me even more nervous. He notices, and strikes up a conversation about the party, his family and Matthew.

"He asked me how long we've been official." I decide to tell him. Harry finds it amusing.

"Really?" He smiles. "The fucker."

"What?" I ask, not really understanding how that question adds up to him being a fucker.

"He wants you, been eye fucking you ever since he met you." He explains. "He has a thing for unavailable people, especially if they're unavailable because of me."

"So he just steals your girlfriends? Or at least, tries to?" I clarify, eyes wide, and Harry nods. "How have you not been in thousands of fights already?"

"Never really cared about it." He shrugs. "Most girls were just flings or one night stands, it wasn't anything serious, really."

"Wow." I laugh in disbelief, and it makes me wonder if maybe he is going to let Matthew hit on me. After all, we're faking this. It shouldn't be relief that I feel when Harry's grip on me tightens as soon as Matthew approaches us once again, but I do, I feel relieved. A little bit giddy too.

"Hey, wanna go for a round two?" Matthew asks me after greeting us both. I'm about to decline his offer, but I don't get a chance to speak.

"She's busy." Harry says in a tone that makes my head turn to him. His eyes don't look as friendly as they did before, and the warm smile on his face is looking a little bit more cynical. Matthew takes the hint and wanders off, a bit of disappointment on his face.

"Wow, you really nailed that 'jealous boyfriend' act." I tease him, my left hand instinctively trailing to the back of his head, where I start playing with his hair. He rolls his eyes, pulling me even more into him. I shift in his lap a bit, placing my drink on the table and grabbing his glass instead.

"Here." I hand it to him. "You haven't drank anything since dinner."

"Wow, you're really nailing that 'caring girlfriend' act." He reconstructs my words, and I roll my eyes accordingly. He drinks nonetheless, and I snatch the glass from him, take my cocktail back in my hand, and turn to him again. I frown when his nails dig into my skin.

"Don't move so much."

My cheeks instantly flush. Right...

I am usually way more confident when it comes to flirting. I know exactly what to say, when to say it and how to flutter with my eye lashes in those ways that make men want to drag you to their bedroom. I can flirt with everyone, I'm not easily impressed. Well, except with Malcolm of course, but that was just because I had a crush him. I act like an idiot around people I have a crush on. But I don't. I don't have a crush on Harry. I hated him until a few weeks ago– no. Until a few days ago. I started tolerating him on the plane. Yes, the plane. Oh god, the plane.

"I–" I start a sentence, looking him dead in the eye while realizing that I didn't have something to finish it with. His green eyes along with the feeling of whatever I shouldn't be feeling while sitting on his lap is making me dizzy. "I'm gonna go get a drink."

I try to wiggle out of my seat — which is his lap, oh my god — but Harry seems to find this whole situation very amusing, because for some reason he tightens his grip around me — pushing me more into his hard-on —then nods at the full glass in my hand.

"I think you're good, love." He gives me a half-smirk like I've only seen those guys in the romance movies do and I don't like how it makes my heart pound. What the fuck is happening to me right now?

I look at him, trying to come up with some kind of response that doesn't end up with me sounding like an absolute moron, and then I get lost in his eyes. The loud music fades, and the only thing I can seem to focus on are his eyes and his left hand that grazes further up the slit of my dress. It's only inches, and he trails painfully slow, but he keeps going because he waits for my reaction and it's positive. He can tell by the look in my eyes, and by the way my grip on his hair is a bit too tight.

The tips of his fingers are dangerously close to my panties, and all of a sudden, the music becomes louder again and I feel like I'm waking up from a sinful dream. I swing my legs off of his and get up, my drink almost spilling because of the sudden action. I quickly place it on the table.

"Pee." I say, partly to myself and partly to Harry. "I'm going to... pee."

Harry looks a bit surprised, but more in a way that makes him laugh. I don't miss how his head shakes a bit before giving me a permissive hum. I begin to walk away when I realize a crucial detail is missing, and so I saunter back over to Harry.

"Do you know where the bathrooms are?"

"No." He smirks.

"Oh. okay. Uhm..." I look around aimlessly, hoping to spot some kind of sign. But then, Harry gets up, and stands in front of me. He towers over me easily, it's intimidating and hot. Two things I need him not to be if I want to survive this wedding.

"D'you want to go back to the room?" He asks, voice gone a bit softer. I nod before I even realize that I am doing it, and Harry places a kiss on my temple. Grabbing my hand, he leads us towards the exit, waving goodbye to his parents before we make our way back over to our bedroom.

The cobblestones define the pace of our footsteps, making a whole lot of noise to confirm us where we are. Not that I'd need those stones to find him—he's still holding my hand. I shrug it off, it's dark and he probably doesn't want me to fall face first into these little rocks.

Once we've arrived at our room, Harry walks into the place like it's his apartment, and he goes to occupy the bathroom almost immediately. I grab my white, floral pyjama set that I actually never wear because I like to wear an oversized t-shirt to bed and nothing more. But, I packed my suitcase with the knowledge that I was going to have to lay next to a man the whole week, so I only brought the cute stuff.

When Harry leaves the bathroom, some steam leaves along with him, and I quickly look away at the revelation that he is shirtless, again. I don't miss the amused sniff, but I ignore it nonetheless. I skip into the bathroom, lock it and take a very anticipated shower. A part of me hopes that the water would also wash this weird vibe off. Like if I got out and walked back into that bedroom, my hands wouldn't start to sweat at the sight of him on the bed.

Unfortunately, I am wrong. Because when I do leave the bathroom, not only do my hands start to sweat, but my heart also begins to pound. Fuck.

I'd actively been ignoring this ever since the party. This stupid feeling, thinking it was just me being touch deprived. But I'm not so sure now. Maybe I do have a crush on Harry. However, I can't afford to think about that too much now, so I shake it off and walk over to my side of the bed.

I throw a decorative pillow on the ground and climb into the bed, trying to act as if I don't notice Harry staring at me. He's on his phone, doing God knows what. I grab my book from the bed side table.

"Wuthering Heights, huh?" He smirks, and I can sense the pretentiousness from miles away. I look at him, then roll my eyes with a smile.

"Shut up, it's my favorite story."

"Why? Heathcliff is awful." He frowns, and his tone is a bit mocking. Not to me, just to the story. But it's my favorite story, so I take the offense.

"I just like the fact that it acknowledges that love can make you both whole and destroy you. That loving isn't always really the ending, or the solution. It can be a fleeting middle, break you in a thousand pieces and then leave it for you to pick up the pieces yourself."

"That's a bit pessimistic, innit?" He chuckles. I shrug.

"I think it's realistic to recognize that spite, anger, sadness, and revenge are almost always born out of love, or a lack of it. I think it's optimistic, actually."

He smiles. "Yeah?"

"Mhm." I hum. "Think it creates a space for empathy, does it not?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Harry frowns, as if I've just opened a new door for him. I smile at his face, full of contemplation over what I just said and I know that I'm inevitably screwed.

He should've bashed the freaking book so I could have a reason to hate him.

I decide that I won't be able to concentrate on anything anyway now that I have admitted these weird feelings to myself—and the subject of those feelings is laying next to me—so I shut the book and put it back on my nightstand. 

"Not reading after all?"

"Nope." I chime, my tone sounding way too forced. "Changed my mind. 'M gonna sleep."

I turn off the light on my bedside table and turn around to Harry who is still laying with his phone in his hands. It freaks me out that he is looking at me, it makes me so nervous, but I try my best to be cool.

"Good night." I sigh as my head hits the pillow. I finally look up at Harry—bad move—and my heart melts a bit at his sweet smile.

"Good night."

I am laying with my face towards Harry, mainly because I laid down like that and now I'm too scared to shift too much and look weird, but I feel Harry's burning gaze on me and frankly, it's making me feel incredibly tense. My heart is beating way quicker than it should and I have to consciously steady my breathing in order to provide my lungs with some oxygen.

"Harry." I finally say after three more minutes of tense silence, eyes still closed. He hums softly. "I can feel you looking at me."

I open my eyes, because suddenly I'm very afraid that I'm wrong and look like a complete fool, but he is indeed still staring. He doesn't look like a dear in headlights, he's just smiling. There is a sense of comfort in him that I envy, especially because I feel like I could explode right now.

"Yeah, well, you're nice to look at." He answers, making my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I quickly dart my eyes to his body so I won't have to meet his confrontational gaze — bad idea, bad idea! — and quickly find that staring at his body isn't going to help my case any more.

"Am I making you nervous?" He asks softly, in a way that you could almost describe as sweet. But it isn't, because I know he's reveling in this.

Out of instinct, I look up at him, wide eyed at the fact that he read my mind and my body so well. But I cannot afford this—whatever it is that is hanging in the air right now—so I shake my head.

"Nope, just frustrated." I sigh, which is more a way to get my breathing back to normal. I pull myself up and turn around, my back now towards him, and hope to have closed the conversation for tonight. There is some shuffling from the other side and for a moment I think I did it, I think I won, but then I feel a hand sneak around my bare waist and my mind turns into jelly.

I suck in a sharp breath at the touch of his cold hand and the heat of his mouth on my ear, and swallow a whine at the way it's making my head spin.

"Do you need me to help you relax?" He whispers, and I suck in a deep breath.

"I– I need to sleep." I attempt to reason — mainly with myself — and Harry just chuckles.

"I can think of a way to tire you out." He insinuates smugly and I clench my jaw at his stupid charisma and how well it's working on me.

"Harry, I can't..." I begin the sentence, even though I have no logical argument to say no right now. I want him, really bad but a part of me is forbidding it for reasons unknown, which makes me want it even more. You know what they say about forbidden fruit...

"What? Would you rather be with my cousin? Have him get you off, hmm?" He asks a bit condescendingly, which makes me think the jealous act maybe wasn't such an act after all. His thumb is now circling over my hips and it's making me dizzy, which is exactly what he's trying to do to me.

"No–"

"No?" He plays dumb. His hand lowers to my pyjama shorts and starts playing with it's elastic band. My stomach is on fire and my pussy is aching, it's getting too much for me to brush off. I can't not get off, it's going to kill me. I need life support.

"No!" I whine. He chuckles, kisses my ear lobe.

"That's right... you came to me when he started hitting on you. Such a good, sweet, loyal girl. Sitting on my lap so nicely. Making me so fucking hard..." He taunts, and I start squirming under his touch.

"Harry..." I cry out, because frankly, I can't take another second of this torture. I'm about to implode if he doesn't touch me where I need it between now and twenty seconds.

"What is it sugar?" I can quite literally hear his grin and I groan at the irritating pet name. I grab his arm and try to get out from under his touch, but his grip only tightens on me and he pulls me back into him, cock pressed against my ass. He hums disapprovingly.

"No, feel what you did to me." He leans over to look at me and when our eyes catch, I think my heart malfunctions. "'S not very nice, now is it?"

I shake my head, biting my lip nervously. His eyes dart from mine to my mouth as he breaths out a 'fuck', and he wipes some hair out of my face with his free hand.

He pulls his body away from mine and for a moment I feel like I could cry, but he distracts me by laying me on my back and throwing the sheets off our bodies. He then quickly slips his hand in my pants, grazing his fingers over my underwear.

I look at him, desperately waiting for his next move while he studies my body with a light frown. My eyes go to his sweatpants, and see the straining bulge that hides in it. I go to touch him, offer him some release too but he swats my hand away. The stern look on his face gives me shivers.

"I didn't say you could touch me, now did I?" He states, rubbing his middle finger over my clit, and I curse my underwear for being the only thing that stands in the way of his real touch. Nevertheless, I moan, because he could literally blow on my underwear and I would come right then and there.

"'M sorry." I say softly, shifting when Harry starts to pull down my shorts and underwear. He inspects me, or at least that's what it looks like, and a grin grows on his face.

"I think you'll make it up to me just fine." He beams and starts to circle my clit, causing my hips to shoot up in surprise. He chuckles softly.

"Does that feel good, baby?" He asks and I nod immediately. My eyes begin to feel heavy and I don't know for how much longer I will be able to keep going.

"Harry, slow down or I'm gonna..." I can't get the sentence out because he only starts rubbing faster, and my eyes shut permanently.

"Yeah? You gonna come for me already?" Harry taunts, and I bite my lip to steady the volume of the moans that are leaving my mouth.

"Ah! Oh my– Harry!" I try to sound angry but it's really just me moaning his name very aggressively and the realization that it's his fingers on my clit right now is what sends me over the edge. The explosion feels overdue, and it washes away all the unnecessary tension I'd been feeling since I started fake dating Harry. And now I realized; it was probably sexual frustration.

I close my eyes, trying to control my breathing as well as I possibly can. My legs are shaking and I can feel Harry hovering over me. His body heat warms my cheeks as he hangs over me, leaning on the bed with one arm, holding my face with the other.

"Open your eyes baby." He says softly, and it makes my heart flutter. I am in deep, deep trouble. I do as he says, my eyes meeting his, and the smile on his face makes me feel like I'll melt through the bed.

"You okay?" He asks, stroking my cheek. I nod, head still woozy but not wanting us to stop any time soon.

"I'm okay." I give him verbal confirmation, knowing it's what he needs from me. He kisses my temple, whispers 'good girl' in my ear and moves away from my face.

As soon as I have my breathing a bit under control, my hands reach for his sweatpants, but he Harry grabs my wrists and pushes me away. I frown, and I have to admit that my ego is a bit hurt. I feel like he can see it in my face, because he is quick to explain.

“Believe me I would love to, but another night, okay? Tonight was just for you.”

I can quite literally feel my entire body melt at his words, and it doesn’t help when he gets off the bed and helps me up so I can go to the bathroom.

After I’m done and enter the room again, he is sat up straight at the edge of the bed, and looks at me expectantly. I shoot him an awkward smile and get back into bed. He does the same and we lay silently in the dark for a while.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…?” I can’t help but ask, feeling like I should return the favor, and still insecure about the fact that he doesn’t want me to.

“Patience, sugar.” He says lowly, and my heart thuds at the kiss I feel being planted on my forehead. The amount of calm I feel is unmatched, and it makes me very sleepy.

“Whatever you say, hot stuff…”

Part 3