#this is kind of all over the place dont know what this is lol i just love paralells
their s/o got shy because they pull up sum dirty jokes with the haitanis and sanzu please, anyways dont overworked yourself, dtay hydrated and eat properly <3 have a sweet day ahead!
What He Pleases | Bonten Sanzu, Ran, and Rindou
- Making their s/o shy with dirty jokes
genre: crack, fluff, suggestive
warnings: mature content, suggestive content, MINORS DNI ⚠️
A/N: Thank you so much, anon! May you have an awesome week ahead of you too. Ngl, this gave me some nsfw ideas to write LOL Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this so thank you for this request ( ◜‿◝ )♡
Sanzu Haruchiyo (Akashi Haruchiyo)
Popping pills and getting stoned makes Sanzu's endorphins go crazy. Something that makes him see the world differently good.
However, there's a different kind of intoxication in seeing your smile. A kind of high where any drugs couldn't compare.
So, it was only natural for Sanzu to spoil you.
When your boyfriend's not busy being high or torturing guys in Bonten, he'd spend his time at the penthouse you two share or accompany you with whatever business you're down to. And today's either one of those days.
You placed the cup of coffee on the center table in front of Sanzu, when suddenly, the man pulled you into his lap making you blush.
"Sanzu!" You looked at him surprised. "What's going on?"
Your boyfriend snuggled his face into your neck as he squeezed your hips. The action never failing in making you all giddy.
"Hmmm, here." Sanzu handed you his black card. "Spoil yourself, Y/N."
You bit your lip as you looked at the black card. As tempting as it is, you can't help but feel guilty at the same time. "Sanzu, I have my own money."
"I didn't ask. Spend it, Y/N." Sanzu grazed his lips against your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin.
You gulped as you thought of all the things you've always wanted to buy. "But why?"
Your boyfriend smirked as he held into the card he gave you. "Thought that 3.5 inches are enough to make you happy."
Your eyes widened as your head just processed what your boyfriend told you. Covering your face, you can't help but blush at the sensual remark.
"But..." You peaked at your boyfriend through your fingers. "You know... Sanzu... you're not just..."
He looked at you, trying to hide a laugh as he adored your bashful state. "What is it?"
"You're big, you know." You whispered. Your hand barely hiding your beet-red face.
Sanzu can't help but snicker at what you've just said. "Y/N, I was talking about the size of my card you know?"
Your eyes widened at him. "O-oh..." Your shyness exploding out of you as you were the only ones who were having wrong thoughts the whole time.
"Unless..." Sanzu suddenly flipped you over the couch, his right hand pinning down your wrist while the other on your neck. "You want something bigger to make you happy."
You gulped as the tension in the air suddenly increased. "Yes..."
"Hmmm?" He smiled at your beautiful but helpless state.
Sanzu smiled. Yes. There's a different kind of high you bring to him.
And he's more than addicted to it.
A man with an ego probably taller than him.
He's an arrogant bastard and he knows it. You know it. Rindou knows it. Everybody in Roppongi knows it.
Ran's cockiness doesn't stop with being around other Bonten members and high-profile criminals. Actually, it's still there when you're around.
And he loves you for it. He loves how you tolerate his attitude and keep up being around him always. He loves how you always feed his ego.
His ego's like a hungry appetite that's always craving for you. And it's favorite meal? Nothing but making you all red and embarrassed.
And that's the goal for today.
You were sitting next to Ran in his office on one of Bonten's hideout. Your boyfriend cleaning his Smith and Wesson's while you were helping him clean his baton.
"Can't believe you still kept this after all these years." You smiled as you wiped off the other half of the rod.
Ran smiled at you. "It brings me happiness and memories of the bastards I beat up with that."
"How can you take it? It's long and hard." You nonchalantly said as you continued to wipe the other side.
You heard the soft clatter of the gun against the table. A subtle laugh escaping from your boyfriend's lips.
Ran turned his office chair a little bit as he looked at you. An evident smirk on his face. "How about you Y/N? How can you take it when it's long and hard?"
"Huh?" You looked at Ran with a confused expression. Then suddenly it hit you, of course, Ran would take that opportunity.
You looked away at Ran as you pretended to clean his baton. Trying to hide the spreading blush across your face. "You should finish that now."
"No." You felt Ran's hand on your chin, softly forcing you to look at him. "Answer me."
"I-i...I don't know!" You closed your eyes.
"Then" You felt Ran's hot breath on your ears. "You'll know once we get home."
You opened your eyes. A cocky face of your boyfriend welcoming your sight.
Ran returned on his business of cleaning his gun. His smile was ten times wider than usual.
Maybe he can wait home. Or maybe he can take you right here.
To him, it's your fault anyway. Your shy state makes him absolutely go feral.
A Bonten executive shall always have his strong and stoic composture. Everybody in the gang knows that.
Rindou knows he always has this bored-out expression in his eyes. A stoic facade that he maintains around his men and Bonten.
But don't be fooled.
Despite his serious aura, Rindou does joke around sometimes. Maybe he got it from Ran, but the man definitely knows how to tease sometimes when he's up for it. Only around you though.
However, there's something in it for him. Although he won't admit it, seeing you get shy around him turns a different switch inside him.
And now, he wants you to help him turn on that switch.
You two were currently stuck in Tokyo's traffic in one of his luxury cars while on your way to a restaurant that Rindou had reserved for you.
"Rindou, you know I'm fine with ordering to take out." You smiled at him while scrolling through your phone. "It says here that it'll still be traffic for 30 minutes or so because of an accident."
"No." Your boyfriend grabbed your palm with his right hand. "We'll go."
"Okay." You enclasped your hand with his. Playing and brushing through his fingertips.
Rindou took this opportunity to look at you. Your outfit hugging your perfect body just right.
"I didn't realize you have large hands until now." Your index finger brushing atop of his palm.
"Hmmm," Rindou smirked. Loving the way you were playing with his hands right now.
"Ehh... and you have such long fingers." You twisted your pinky with his. "Maybe this is a tall people thing."
Rindou looked at the traffic. Grinning in his inner thoughts as he thought of what you just said.
"Tall people not only have long fingers" Rindou stared at you, burning holes into your skin.
You suddenly let go of Rindou's hand. Realizing what he had just implied.
"Rindou!" You looked at your side of the seat. "You can't just say that!"
Rindou suddenly laughed. Something that surprised you as you're still not used to it.
"I meant...tall people have long legs, Y/N."
You turned around to look at your boyfriend. Rising your brows as you try to hide the blush on your cheeks. "I...I know! That's what I'm going to say." You crossed your arms with a pout.
"Now don't get bratty on me, Y/N." You felt a hand on your thigh. Sending shivers on your skin.
"What were you thinking?"
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ur genshin bf asking you out short fic or whatever (kazuha, xiao, scarycoochie)
genre: idk fluff??
a/n: kaeya (derogatory) dni if you’re kaeya DONT mention kaeya at all to me he’s a trigger for me because we have history (he’s my ex) also gn pronouns used also i got lazy at the end of scaras part lol
You were silently sitting at a table somewhere in Liyue, enjoying a drink that Xiangling had asked you to taste test. Of course you were skeptical about it— who knows what Xiangling puts in her drinks? But you were a good friend so you drank it anyways. Besides, it wasn’t all that bad. It tasted like milk.
“Y/n, may I have a seat here?” You heard from in front of you as you were taking a sip of the milky drink. You looked at the owner of the voice; Kazuha.
He had stopped in Liyue for a while, he never told you why. You only just found out a few days ago when he told you that he was gonna go show that traveler how to play an “ancient zither”.
“Huh? Oh, sure,” You said, setting your drink down and watching Kazuha take a seat. He looked around the area before taking a peek at what’s in your cup. Despite having good social skills, he was a very awkward guy.
“So, what brings you here to Liyue, Y/n?” Kazuha finally asked, making direct eye contact with you.
You shrugged. “Meh, I don’t know. I mostly came to visit a few friends and things, not really anything important.” Kazuha nodded in acknowledgement.
“I see. I taught the traveler how to play the zither like i told you. I’m surprised, they got the hang of it quite fast.” He said, his chin resting on the palm of his hand as he stared deep into your eyes, smiling with some sort of loving smile.
“Oh, good for them. I bet it’s nice to have a break from everything and just play an instrument.”
Kazuha silently nodded, looking away from you and instead looking at a few kids playing.
“Y/n, what do you think about when you see me?”
You raised an eyebrow at him, thinking about his question for a moment.
“Well, uh, I think of what you smell like.”
“No,” Kazuha lightly laughed, turning back towards you. “I mean, what are your opinions on me?”
“Oh.” You were confused— why was he suddenly asking you this?
“Um, I think you’re a really great guy. You’re kind and chill I guess. I don’t know, you’re just a really amazing person?” You shrugged, Kazuha smiling even wider for some reason.
“Would you like to hear what I think of you?” You nodded as he looked away once again.
“I think that you and me would be an amazing couple.”
You sat there, stunned, at Kazuha’s statement.
“Oh, is there a problem with what I said?” He questioned, turning back towards you with a raised eyebrow. “Do you need me to elaborate?”
“Uh, yeah, I’d like that.”
He sat there for a moment, staring into your eyes, before leaning over the table. Next thing you knew it, he was so close to you that his lips were ghosting over yours.
“Is this… alright with you?” He whispered. Aww he was asking for consent, what a sweetie :>
You nodded, and so he leaned forward, placing a small kiss on your lips before moving back— his fave getting redder and redder by the second.
“That’s what I meant.”
Xiao always had somewhat of a soft spot for you, for some reason. Maybe it’s because you weren’t scared of him like he expected, or that you were just nice to him no matter what.
You were sitting on the ledge of Wangshu Inn, Xiao holding you up by holding the bottom of your back while you were telling him a story.
“—Yeah, so then she literally spiked my drink. I don’t know how she snuck it, but Hu Tao is really something.” You said, looking down at Xiao who was staring off to the side. “Hey, are you okay?”
“…Yeah.” He said, glancing at you for a second before looking away again. “That was an interesting story, y/n.”
“…Are you sure you’re alright? You’re acting… more emo than usual.”
He turned to you with a frown on his face, slightly letting go of your back to make it seem like you were gonna fall off the ledge. And it did.
“Don’t disrespect adeptus’s like that…” He muttered. “…But thanks for worrying for me.”
You both sat there in silence, Xiao occasionally looking up at you, who was looking at the view of Liyue harbor in the distance.
“Y/n,” He called, snapping you out of your daze.
“…You think i’m a good person, right?” He asked. You looked down at him, swinging your legs, and nodded.
“Of course, how could I not?”
“I just, feel this emotion that i’m not used to. I don’t know what it is.” He confessed, scooting closer to you. You got off the ledge, facing Xiao.
“Can you explain it to me?”
Xiao sighed before looking at you in the eyes, a slight tint on his cheeks.
“It’s like, my heart is racing a lot lately. And i have this… urge, to stare at you. In a protective way. I’ve never felt this with anyone else before, and it’s making me feel odd.” He explained to you, glancing away at times.
You looked at him with wide-eyes before laughing.
“Xiao, I think you’re in love with me.” You explained. He looked at you with a stunned expression, before you leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“But that’s normal, you know?”
“...So, you reciprocate these feelings?” You held his hands, something you never expected him to let you do, and nodded with a smile.
You both were hanging out in his office, a custom he let you do rather often. You sat on the floor reading some novel while he was looking through papers of some sort.
“Y/n, pass me that one file.” He called, you looking up to see him looking straight at you.
“You think i know what “that one file” is?” You laughed, before getting up and going to his filing cabinets and picking out a random file. “Is it this one?”
“…” He sighed, shaking his head, before getting up and walking towards you, gently pushing you out of the way to get the one he was talking about.
“This one, this is that file i wanted.” He held it up, shaking it in your face like you were stupid or something. “But whatever, i guess i wasn’t specific enough.”
You shrugged and sat back down, picking back up where you last left off in your novel. However, Scaramouche just set the file down on his desk and walked over to you, crouching down next to you.
“So this is what you do while i’m working?” He asked, scoffing when you nodded. He then snatched the book from your hand and skimmed it over, a look of disgust on his face as he handing it back to you. “You’re disgustingly weird.”
“Aha, well, it’s not like i’m apart of the fatui like you are.” You laughed before reading the book once again. You only then realized that his hat was off, something you haven’t really seen before.
“Woah, i’ve never seen you with that yeeyee ass umbrella off your head.” You pointed out to him, which made him frown and punch your shoulder.
“This is a privilege, you know. You’re not even supposed to be in here, so you better get your act straight.”
He stared at you— specifically your head, for a concerningly long amount of time, before he placed us hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair.
“What the— what are you doing?” You asked, looking up at him to see him looking away, attempting to his his reddened face.
“Shut up before I kick you out.”
“You won’t do that. I know you like me too much to kick me out.” You teasingly smiled, but you didn’t know that what you said was actually true :0
“Wha- Who told you that?! Was it that dumbass ginger?!” He yelled, getting up from his spot before rushing towards the door, grabbing his hat. “I’m gonna kill that motherfu—”
“No, no! I didn’t know that what I said was true! It was supposed to be a joke, i swear!” You said, Scara looking back at you as his face was all red and stuff.
“…Wanna date lol?”
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“I’ll save you as many times as you need me to.” Midoriya had promised Todoroki in his vows and he was not about to break his word.
When Izuku heard the familiar sound of ice forming, a wave of relief washed over him. Shouto is alive! he thought to himself, but before even being able to turn around a powerful flap from Kirishima’s wings sent the hero flying through the air as icicles sharp enough to pierce the strongest of armors formed in the place he had been standing just a second ago.
Disoriented, Izuku managed to stand up and distinguish the familiar silhouette of his fiancé in the fog. It should've been reassuring, yet a sudden rush of electricity took over his body, ready to fight. Something was wrong, Terribly wrong.
“Hello my Darling.” Shouto greeted him, amused. His deep voice sounded unnaturally raspy as if he were sick. Then the man stepped out of the fog and Izuku’s cursed himself for being right.
The Prince of Endeavor, Beacon of Light for his people, was covered by Hatred. In just eleven days the infection had spread like wild fire, completely taking over his left side and Izuku could see the dark, putrid crystals already making their way towards his ice half.
Clearly out of his mind, the prince attacked them.
“I’ll save you as many times as you need me to.” Midoriya had promised Todoroki in his vows and he was not about to break his word.
The Chosen Hero silently apologized to his fiancé for what he was about to do and charged towards Shouto with all his power.
I’ve been away for almost a month and the first thing i post is angst pfffff im sorry guys lmao. This is supposed to take place wayyyyyy after the engaged ceremony comic, when they are all well established knights and Tododeku were getting married. Like, literally they were getting married and All for One went like no i dont think so and kidnapped Shouto. He already had a Hatred infection tho... ah here i go rambling again, did you miss me guys? lol
I kind of forgot how much i love drawing for the royal au... college is really messing with my mind but summer vacations are so close!! As soon as im done with my first year i’ll go full creative mode in all my social media so lots of bnha and mash ups and cat and meme videos and i even want to stream so we can draw together and talk! GUYS PRAY FOR ME TO PASS MY EXAMS
haha anyways thank you for supporting this au and if you have any ideas or questions let me know! anons are always welcomed in my blog ok love you all byeeee
[Check out the Royal au: concept art, beginners guide, the proposal and first day engaged pt 1]
Bonus: the expressions but with my very insightful commentary.
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“it’s not that important”
Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important
AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there
This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much
oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy
Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.
“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.
Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”
Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?”
You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.
He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.
“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.
Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.
“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.
The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.
His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.
“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.
Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.
“No, most people find me hilarious...”
You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.
“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.
“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.
You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.
He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”
“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”
“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.
“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”
He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.
You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.
When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.
Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.
Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.
“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”
Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”
“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.
“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.
“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.
“Okay, let’s go.”
He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.
The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.
After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.
“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”
You can only hum in response.
Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.
“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.
“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”
“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”
He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”
“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”
He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”
“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”
“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”
“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”
Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.
“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.
Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”
You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.
“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”
“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”
“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.
Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.
Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”
“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.
He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”
“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”
He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.
Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.
“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.
Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.
“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.
He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.
“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.
Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.
“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.
“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.
He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.
Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.
“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.
Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.
Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”
You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.
“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.
Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.
A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.
A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.
The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.
“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?” Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.
“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.
“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”
“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”
“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”
You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.
“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.
“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.
Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.
The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.
One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.
No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.
Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.
“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.
“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.
You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.
After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.
You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.
“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.
The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.
Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”
“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.
“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.
“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.
“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.
“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.
There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.
“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.
Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.
“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”
“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.
After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.
“Why are you here?”
“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.
“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”
“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.
The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.
When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.
You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”
Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.
It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.
Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.
When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.
Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.
You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.
After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.
“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.
Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”
Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.
Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.
“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.
“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”
“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.
“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.
“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.
Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.
You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.
Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.
But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.
You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.
It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”
“You weren’t answering your phone.”
“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”
“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.
He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.
“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”
He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.
When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.
You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”
“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.
“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”
He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”
“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”
Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.
“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.
He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”
“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”
He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”
“I would have told you.”
“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”
“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.
“I thought you said this was just sex?”
You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.
He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.
“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”
The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.
It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.
He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.
Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”
The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.
You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.
For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.
It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.
Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.
“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.
“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.
“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”
“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.
“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.
“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.
Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”
“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.
When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.
“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.
The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.
“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.
“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.
A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:
“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”
Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.
“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”
His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.
After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.
“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.
“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.
“What is going on with you and Harry?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”
You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.
“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.
“I wouldn’t put it like that…”
He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.
“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”
“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.
You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.
Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”
Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”
“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.
“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”
“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.
“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.
You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,” you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.
“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”
“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.
“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”
Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he
showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.
Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”
Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.
“Mitch...I have to go.”
He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.
You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.
“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.
“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”
Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.
“It’s not that simple…”
“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”
“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Plans can change, Harry.”
You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.
His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.
“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.
You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.
“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.
He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”
He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.
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my daisy / chapter 7 | kim mingyu
➝ CEO!Mingyu x Secretary!Reader
➝ strangers to lovers // single dad!Mingyu // fluff // lighthearted // non idol!au // like pls dont expect any dramas here lol // tiny bit of angst ig
➝ series warning: mentions of sex, no smut but there’s implied sexual activities, insecurity (as always jshbdjhsfshbf am sorry), curses, food, let me know if theres more ^^
➝ word count: 3.6k
➝ A/N: HI HOW ARE WE HOLDING UP I AM GOING CRAZY BC THE COMEBACK IS TOMORROW AND I WANNA LISTEN TO THE SONGS ALREADYYYYYYY. on another note! surprise? haha decided to post a little earlier bc i dont see why not when im this happy over the comeback... anyhow!!!! we're finally here for Mingyu & OC moments!!!!!!!!
when your cousin asks you to be her substitute at SVT Inc. as she takes her maternity leave, you’re pretty sure this wasn’t what you signed up for.
The next few days pass by quickly. Either all of the companies here want to meet Mingyu while he’s in town or if it’s just Jennie’s efficient scheduling, you never seem to ever get out of a meeting until it’s at least 6 in the evening.
Two days more then you’re going home. Even though your bed isn’t half as comfortable as the bed in Triple W Hotel, you still miss it and you want to go back to your room already. Being in Japan for work and being in Japan for holiday are two different things, it turns out. You barely even have time to sit down and relax, let alone enjoy the Tokyo scene.
[19:01] SVT Kim Mingyu: have you had dinner?
[19:01] SVT Kim Mingyu: should we go outside and eat?
[19:02] SVT Kim Mingyu: or are you sick of seeing me already
That… is different, too. Spending days following Mingyu around without Seungkwan and any other familiar faces means he’s the sole comfort for your introverted ass. Given, the time you spend with just Mingyu is usually in the car when you’re moving from one place to another, it’s still enough time for the both of you to get even closer.
Because even for lunch and dinner the guy is packed with schedules to have meals with some kind of representatives (and a few friends, you think), you haven’t had the chance to eat with Mingyu again after that sushi place. You usually just eat by yourself while you wait for him to be done. On top of that, Mingyu would have room service for breakfast while you go downstairs to the hotel restaurant area to have yours.
You wonder if that’s the reason why your heart jumps at the invitation.
Huffing a little after replying to Mingyu’s text with a ‘sure! when?’, you quickly go through your suitcase when he replies: ‘in 15 mins?’. Maybe you should thank Jisoo for insisting you to bring more clothes than you would’ve, because there’s no way you’d be going out with Mingyu in what you’d usually consider casual. As much as you try to insist it isn’t a date, you should at least look decent going out with someone who looks like Kim Mingyu (or in general, really, but Mingyu makes you extra conscious even though he never says anything about the way you dress).
Taking one last look in the mirror, you nod to yourself before you step out of your room. Why are you even nervous? You’re just having dinner together, like you usually would with Jihoon, Soonyoung, or Seokmin. Mingyu probably doesn’t want to eat by himself and he’s finally out of dinner appointments. He’s just asking to go with you as a friend. Jennie would most likely have to accompany him eat like this too, you remind yourself.
“Oh? Hi,” someone greets you as you wait for the elevator. “A bit early, are we?”
You grin at Mingyu as your eyes flick to your own watch that says it’s only been 10 minutes since his text, pretending like you’re not flustered. Gosh, you practically see this man everyday and you still blush at his good look?
“Had nothing to do.”
“What, no report to finish?” he jokes, telling you to go in first when the elevator door opens.
“With all due respect, Sir,” you playfully clear your throat, flicking your hair back as he settles next to you. “I am off the clock.”
The sound of his laughter fills the elevator, one that brings a genuine smile out of you, too. Before he can say anything more, the elevator door opens again and a whole family enters the limited space, pushing you back closer to Mingyu. His hand reaches for your arm out of reflex when you stumble, and you can’t help getting warm at the feeling of his fleeting touch on your skin.
“You okay?” he asks as if you just got trampled on. But you nod nevertheless, telling him you’re fine and you just trip on nothing. He chuckles at this, leaning down to your ear and tells you to be careful which prompts your face to heat up over his breath fanning your hair.
You glance at the small drawing on top of the elevator buttons, a sign that says the elevator can only hold the weight of 15 people at most. You’re pretty sure there aren’t that many people yet, but the elevator already feels crowded as it is. Despite that though, of course, when the elevator opens again, the next group of people insists on coming in because there seems to be enough space for another three. The family from earlier shifts to make space, which forces you to press yourself closer to Mingyu.
The guy doesn’t seem to mind though, even pulls you further by the arm so you’re standing in front of him instead. His hands move to your shoulders, holding you in place so you won’t stumble again.
This is something that you notice just recently, but Mingyu, like Gyuri (or is it the other way around?), is just naturally touchy with people he’s comfortable with—which already extends to you, it turns out. You notice how Mingyu would absentmindedly reach for your arm when he’s calling you, or, now that you think about it, how he’d often place his hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder when he’s trying to point out something to the guy. Maybe that’s where Gyuri gets her touchy nature from.
You take in a deep breath at the proximity, thanking the universe at least Mingyu wouldn’t be able to see your nervous face from this position. He’s so close, to the point where you can feel his chest hovering against your back. One stop backwards and you’ll meet his chest.
—and that’s your cue to stop thinking about it before your body somehow registers it as a command instead of a passing thought.
You look down on your feet to mask your nerves as the elevator goes down further and further, the weight of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders feeling heavier as seconds go by. Another minute and you know you’ll be thinking about this for weeks, the ghost of his touch haunting you until God knows when. Honestly, why are there so many floors in this building and why does everyone want to get into the elevator?!
You unknowingly release a relieved sigh when the elevator hits the lobby, and you can hear Mingyu chuckle from behind you as you do so. You turn to give him a confused glance, but he simply shakes his head then pushes you to get out of the elevator.
You hate the way you’re almost disappointed the moment he pulls away and pushes his hands into the pockets of his coat.
“What do you feel like eating?” he casually asks, matching his pace with yours.
“Um, just… street food?” you honestly say. “But I know that’s not a meal for you, so I’ll just follow whatever you feel like eating.”
Mingyu hums as he contemplates his options before eventually answering. “How about some ramen? Then we can go to this festival my friend mentioned.”
You light up at the mention of festival, having always wanted to go on one but you’re not really sure about when they even hold those kinds of things. Mingyu holds back a grin at the sudden change of your posture, excitement buzzing throughout your body.
“Let’s go then,” he says, signaling you to follow him. You happily trail behind the tall guy, sniffing a little the moment you step out of the hotel glass door as the chill night breeze greets you. Maybe you shouldn’t have just worn shorts and a sweater during this weather, but you honestly don’t want to go back and get another layer just for the sake of it. You can bear it; you’ve always liked the cold anyway.
Initially, you thought you’re waiting for Mingyu’s usual driver by the lobby. But when the valet driver instead comes out and gives the key back to Mingyu, you blink hardly at what this implies. Mingyu tilts his head to the side, telling you to take the front seat as he makes his way to the driver’s seat.
You exhale before you open the door of his car, hoping you would make it out of the night sane.
“Wow, it’s packing here, huh?” you exclaim as you join the short queue in front of the door.
“Yeah, which is why I usually order take out or have someone deliver it to the hotel,” he scrunches his nose. You’re glad he’s not fussy about the queue though. Yes, it’s not a long one, but you’re well aware that some people think they’re too good for queues.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Feels like going out,” he vaguely answers.
Mingyu steps forward after the person in front of you moves in, nodding at whatever the waitress is telling him and then holds up two of his fingers. You guess he’s telling her it’s just going to be the two of you, but she says something that gets Mingyu shrugging before he nods nonchalantly, exclaiming that it’s okay (evidently one of the few Japanese phrases you’ve picked up from the whole trip).
“She says the only available place for two is on a high table so we have to sit side by side instead of facing each other,” he briefly explains. “I guess people tend to want to sit facing each other, which is why she has to make sure we’re okay sitting on a stool bar. Plus, we might have to share the table with another party.”
You let out an ‘aah’ as you nod, taking in the weirdly luxurious design for a ramen place. You wonder if Mingyu has a thing for interior designs judging by the eccentric decorations you’ve found yourself surrounded in everytime you follow Mingyu to a restaurant. He gestures to you to sit on the end of the table before taking the seat next to you, another three seats beside him still empty.
But instead of complying, you tell him to order whatever he thinks is good because you need to go to the restroom real quick. When you come back, the guy is grinning on his screen and the seats beside him are already filled by some guys.
“Look, it’s Daisy,” Mingyu grins even wider that his cheeks hurts a little, moving the camera to you only for you to find Gyuri pouting on the screen.
“Hi Lili!!” you wave happily as you take your seat on the bar stool. “Have you been good?”
“Wanna play Daisy,” she whines sadly, which makes you giggle at her adorable pout. “Daisy come home.”
There’s a content smile on your face that warms Mingyu’s heart, and he doesn’t even realize he’s been staring until the waitress comes to put down the drinks he’s ordered for the both of you, prompting him to look up. He scoots closer to you, dragging the stool with him after he leans his phone on a tissue box so he doesn’t have to keep on holding it.
His scent engulfs you once again. But this time, instead of his usual cologne, it’s the soft smell of his coconut shampoo and fabric softener that floods your senses—and it’s bad because you like this much more than his expensive cologne; there’s a sense of domesticity to it, some kind of exclusivity that only you get to witness.
“Daisy?” Gyuri calls you again, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Miss Lili?”
“Always,” you answer without hesitation. “We’ll play with Auntie Soo, Auntie Nini, and Uncle Cherry once we get back, okay?”
“Promise?” she says her most famous line.
“Promise,” you grin to the screen, painfully aware of how close Mingyu is sitting beside you. Your eyes settle on the small window where you can see yourself and Mingyu on his phone, and you look like you’re leaning against him with his arm on the back of your chair. You’re pretty sure if you move even a bit your shoulder would brush against his chest.
Is that the warmth of his breath against your neck?
“Flower,” Mingyu softly coos, leaning his face forward that it almost looks like he’s leaning his chin on your shoulder from the screen. You can feel your throat tightens and it feels like forever before you’re able to breathe like usual again. “Our food is here. I’ll call you again later, okay?”
You don’t know how Mingyu knows the food is here, but just when Gyuri is about to answer, the waiter comes with two bowls of ramen and serves it to the both of you. Gyuri refuses to hang up just yet, insisting that she still wants to talk to you. So you tell Mingyu he’s welcome to dig in first while you entertain the girl some more.
He can’t help the fond feeling that overwhelms him at the sight of you speaking animatedly to his daughter, answering every single thing that comes out of her mouth as your legs bounce on your seat. Mingyu looks down on your bare legs, and then catches the way the guys beside him say something about you that makes him glad you understand not one of their words.
So he quickly takes the coat that’s hanging on the back of his seat, gently lays it on your lap to cover your thighs from the cold (and from wandering eyes of the three bastards beside him). You look at him in question, but he simply scoots his stool even closer and whispers that it’s cold against your ear. He doesn’t know if he’s simply imagined your soft gasp, but he knows for sure that the guys beside him have quieted at what seems to be an intimate gesture.
They shut up for sure later on when Mingyu sends them an icy glare when they start bringing you up again.
“—bye!” he hears you say at last, and then moves his face closer to yours to say his goodbye to Gyuri too.
“Love you, Papa!”
“Love you, Li,” he grins softly, melting your heart at the sight of it. After Gyuri hangs up, he puts his phone back in the pocket of his jeans and tells you to eat before the ramen gets soggy. So you do just that, thanking him for the food before you stuff your face with the most expensive ramen you’ve probably ever tasted in your life.
“Good?” he asks with an amused smile, chuckling at the way you simply give him a thumb up.
Mingyu lets you be after that, choosing to focus on his meal too because you two seem to be hungrier than you initially thought you were. When you’re both finished, Mingyu refuses your offer to pay for your own meal, saying that it was him who asked you to have dinner with him in the first place. But when you frown and insist, he says you’re free to treat him at the festival instead if you want.
It’s a little funny, if you think about it. To Mingyu, paying for your meal probably doesn’t even cost anything, but you can’t help but feel like it’s inappropriate to let Mingyu pay for everything when you’re out as friends and not as his secretary. It’s the least you could do to ease your conscience.
“We’re walking from here,” he says as he parks the car in a public parking lot. “We might need to walk for five minutes or so, but my friend said this is the nearest parking lot to the festival.”
“Heh, I’ll just consider it exercise,” you shrug nonchalantly.
“It’s not exercise if it’s only for 5 minutes, Daisy,” he playfully says with a nudge on your arm.
You scrunch your nose, hoping it masks the giddy smile on your face at your favorite nickname. “I consider everything that requires me to move my body as exercise.”
“You do know you need to move to eat?”
“That exercise too?”
Mingyu looks at you in disbelief, an amused scoff already out of his lips before he can hold it back. Have you always been this cute?
“Alright, you win. Shall we go exercise now?” he asks with a mock politeness. You laugh at this, then pretentiously nod your head with a ‘yes, we shall’ before you follow him and step out of the car. Mingyu stares at you from head to toe, ignoring the pointed look you’re giving him that’s basically asking him why he is not moving. “You… what makes you think it’s a good idea to be wearing shorts in this weather?”
“I… don’t like wearing long pants,” you truthfully answer.
Your boss blinks at the revelation, his mouth turning into an ‘o’. Mingyu still doesn’t move though, so you ask him what he’s waiting for. He holds up a hand, telling you to wait as he walks to the back of his car and rummages through the trunk. He comes back with a hoodie in hand, telling you to wrap it around your waist to help shield your legs from the cold even a little.
You stare at the hoodie, your heart beating way too fast for your liking at the situation, but your mouth sometimes has a tendency to speak first before you can even realize what you’re saying. “With your size? Wearing it will probably cover more of my legs than tying it on my waist.”
“Wear it then,” he tells you pointedly. You stare at him, dumbfounded, and Mingyu simply stares back at you in confusion. “What? It’s clean, I promise. I put it in the trunk the other day just in case.”
When you still keep your silence and stare at him, Mingyu sighs and takes a step forward. You immediately take a step back at that, which makes him scoff in amusement. So he takes another step forward, prompting you to step backward again.
“You really wanna do this?” he asks with a playful glint in his eyes. “You know my legs are far longer than yours?”
“Showoff,” you mumble in annoyance, more to yourself than to him. What happens next doesn’t quite register to you immediately, because how can your brain work properly when Mingyu is suddenly hovering over you, tying the hoodie himself around your waist then grins in victory at your dumbfounded face?
“Let’s go?” he says with a cheeky smile that you can’t help but mirror.
“This time, I’m paying,” you remind him sternly, pretending like his move didn’t startle you in the most pleasant way possible.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he answers with a nonchalant wave, leading you to where the festival is. You jog a little to catch up with him, pretending to be annoyed about how inconsiderate he is with his long steps. Mingyu simply lets out a hearty laugh at this, and then reaches out his hand for you to take so you ‘can follow my steps without getting left behind’. You almost blush at the gesture, but quickly regain composure as you snicker and slap his hand away instead.
“Is that how you get girls to hold hands with you?” you narrow your eyes playfully.
“I don’t usually try to hold hands with girls,” he sticks out his tongue.
This is a good look on him too, you decide. As much as the sight of him and Gyuri always manages to melt your heart, Mingyu looks his age like this; with playfulness painting his face and the youth within him seeing the sun (moon?) after so long. No matter how obvious that Gyuri is his whole world now, you’re sure there are times when Mingyu misses the time when he can be carefree without thinking about his baby back home.
Thoughts like this would make you wonder about the missing figure in the little family. You never want to pry it out of Mingyu (or anyone, for that matter), but it is true that you’d be curious from time to time. Gyuri is the loveliest kid you’ve ever encountered in your life and Mingyu easily fills in the perfect man category, what could possibly go wrong?
But you’re a new person in the scene, you remind yourself. You haven’t known Mingyu for long and there might be sides of him that you don’t know just yet. There are a lot of other possible scenarios: a child wasn’t in the original plan for them, or the mom might already pass, quite literally leaving Mingyu with Gyuri behind to go to heaven, and so on.
Mingyu’s warm hand suddenly finds yours, and your head snaps up in surprise at the touch. But Mingyu quickly pulls you with him, reasoning that the festival is a little too crowded and he doesn’t want to lose you in the sea of people.
Jennie’s words suddenly echo in your mind as your eyes refuse to stop looking at your joined hands: ‘You don’t have to deny your feelings, alright?’.
And this time, with Mingyu’s hand enveloping yours, you don’t see any reason to pull away when your heart hums in content at the touch and the warmth that waves through your body is pleasant for once.
So you squeeze his hand tighter instead, nervously biting your bottom lip just in case Mingyu pulls away in surprise. He catches your eyes then, and you can see him holding back a grin before he looks forward again and continues to pull you with him through the crowd.
You wish you weren’t imagining the way his hand tightens against yours.
©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.
A/N 2: this is for u @wwssi who somehow have predicted i'd be posting this earlier bc i literally have this queued before u sent that ask :p
taglist: @yslshua@penny-quinn@nollixtrml@dnylwoo@itsveronicaxxx@john-and-paul@wheeinz@rjsmochii@w0nuuu@boowanie@n6body@imtotallydef@wwssi@bythe8@cheolright@coupsiekkuma@hoe4wonwoo@kyeomjjigae@jh-fn@clairdelunesstuff@yoongischeeksluv@onlywonforhui@janandbeyond@treasure-hwa@teddy-cheol@tito-jun@projectjuvia@notscoupy@jeonshuawreads@cheoriemoawa@wtfkidult@itsdnguyenxoxo @nothingbutadeadesceane @juli-ssi
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hi ! enhypen smut prompt request ! can i have the reader whos a female say #4 with jake or sunghoon whos a hard dom ?? if u can , can u add how the reader and the partner are enemies who got lots of sexual tension so they kinda trease e/o a lot with words and actions ? u dont have to use that plot but thank u♡
A/N: This is one of my favorite works now lol i hope u like it :) <3
Warnings: unprotected sex, rly brief oral (f recieving), degredation
Word Count: 2.9 k
“But it’s a Tuesday,” you tell Jay while zipping up your backpack.
“So?” he says. “Don’t be lame.”
“I’m not lame, just responsible.” you sing your bag over your shoulder.
“Yeah, that’s lame.” he walks with you to the lunch tables. Jungwon and Heeseung are already there chatting it up.
“You guys are coming right?” Jay asks them and they nod. “See? You gotta come.”
“It’ll be fun noona,” Jungwon says. “And you have to come because Heeseung hyung and Jay hyung are probably gonna leave me for girls.” he rests his head on your shoulder for a moment.
“Why don’t you get yourself some girls too.” you suggest and he shakes his head.
“I’m too shy.” he says quietly and you giggle.
“Alright fine, I’ll go.” you finally say and they all celebrate. “Jake’s not gonna be there right?”
“Uhm,” Heeseung looks over to Jake’s lunch table nervously. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” you cock an eyebrow.
“He won’t be there,” Jay says. “It’ll be fine.”
You feel someone bump into your shoulder as you walk to history.
“What the hell?” you say and turn around to see who the culprit is. Of course it’s Jake. He shrugs with a half smile. That fucking ass.
After a few more classes you head home and start preparing for the bonfire party. It’s at a beach so you decide to wear your favorite bikini under your shirt and shorts. Your phone begins to buzz and it's a facetime call from Jungwon.
“Hola~” you greet him.
“Hi~” he says. “Can you take me there? My parents are at work.”
“Sure.” you say while putting all of your essentials into a purse.
“Also,” he hesitates. “I think Jake hyung is gonna be there.”
“What? How do you know?”
“I heard him talking about it during p.e.” he says quietly and you groan.
“Fuck, I don’t wanna go anymore.” you say.
“No you have to go, I will die without you.” Jungwon pleads. “It’ll be fun, we'll just stay away from him.”
“It’s gonna be hard to stay away from that giant ego taking up the whole place.” you roll your eyes.
“He’s not that bad noona, he’s actually pretty nice.” Jungwon shrugs.
“Don’t betray me like that,” you scold him. “You’re on my team alright?”
“Okay okay.” he surrenders, giggling.
You pick Jungwon up and give him the aux for the 30 minute drive to the beach.
You guys groove to SZA together.
Jungwon rolls down the window while you're on the highway and sticks his head out like a dog. He kind of is like a dog (in a good way). He’d be a shiba inu.
“Whoooo!!” he screams as the wind whips through his hair, you smile.
When you get there you park your car and get the beach towels from the backseat.
“Did you put sunscreen on?” you as Jungwon and he shakes his head. “Why do you never listen to me?”
You get a bottle of sunscreen out of your purse and rub a dollop on his face. He scrunches his nose.
“It feels like you're rubbing cake batter on me.” he complains.
“You’ll thank me when you’re fifty and you aren’t a wrinkly wreck.” you tell him while spreading it over his cheeks.
“Can we be done now?” he whines and you sigh.
You two approach the crowd of people suntanning, drinking, playing volleyball, and playing in the ocean.
You drop your stuff next to Heeseung’s and Jay’s before looking around for them. They’re playing volleyball with who on the opposing team? Jake Sim.
Jungwon must’ve noticed you shooting lasers through your eyes because he grabs your arm. “Come on, let’s go swim.” he tugs his t-shirt over his head and jogs over to the water.
You follow suit, only feeling a little self conscious about stripping with Jake Sim only so far away. But it’s only because you don’t want to be vulnerable in front of your worst enemy, right?
Jungwon’s already relaxing among the waves when you get to the shore. “Why’d you go so deep?” you call out to him.
“It’s not that deep,” he says back.
You swim around with him for a bit before forcing him to look for pretty shells with you.
He gasps. “Baby crab!” he rushes to pick it up. “Look.” he holds it up to you.
You try to pet it without freaking it out. “What if it bites you?”
“It won’t, we’re friends.”
The sun is nearly gone by the time you’re done shell searching and swimming so you head over to the bonfire. You wrap a towel around yourself and snuggle up to Jay. He scrunches his nose.
“It’s cold,” you defend yourself.
Heeseung hands you a white claw and you crack it open.
“What are we doing now?” you ask but you can’t hear Heeseung’s answer over the sight of Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Niki sitting right across from you. You notice how the bonfire highlights the muscles in Jake’s chest and arms. The warm orange light washing over him makes it look like he’s glowing. Is this what Apollo would’ve looked like? “Huh?” you ask Hee.
“We’re probably just gonna play dumb highschool games.” he says.
You inhale and take a big swig of your seltzer.
“Truth or dare time~” Bree sing songs. “Sunoo truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Sunoo answers.
“Do you have a crush on anyone and if so, who?” she asks and he rolls his eyes.
“I have a crush on myself.” he says confidently.
“Fair enough, you go now.” she says to him.
“Heeseung hyung, truth or dare?” Sunoo asks.
“Dare,” he replies and Sunoo giggles.
“Give your phone to Jay and let him text anyone anything he wants.”
Heeseung groans and throws his head back. “Oh God.”
Jay cackles an evil laugh. “Gimme.”
Heeseung reluctantly hands Jay his phone. “You’re gonna text Sophie aren’t you.”
Sophie Morales, Heeseung ex. They broke up only a month ago after half a year of dating. This was about to be brutal.
“You know me so well.” Jay smiles.
“Please don’t say anything too horrible.” Heeseung pleads.
“Sophie,” Jay narrates his text message. “I miss you and your huge tits. Also I’m sorry for not telling you while we were dating but your feet are really fucking ugly.”
Heeseung buries his head into his hands, laughing. “Fucking Christ.”
“And your breath stinks,” Jay continues. “At least your boobs are nice.”
This is what I get for befriending males. You think to yourself.
“Alright that’s enough.” Heeseung snatches his phone away while everyone giggles. “My turn since I was the victim. y/n, truth or dare?”
“What’s your biggest regret?”
“Becoming friends with Jay, because he’s insane.”
Jay guffaws. “I’ve been nothing but good to you.”
You roll your eyes.
The game goes on for a bit until it lands on Jungwon.
“Noona, truth or dare?”
You’d usually go for truth, but you didn’t want people to think you were boring. “Dare.”
“I dare you and Jake hyung to talk to each other in private for at least five minutes.” he says, crossing his arms.
Your eyes widen and you look over at Jake, he looks like he wants to drown himself.
“What? Why?” you ask urgently.
“Because I’m tired of you guys hating each other for no reason. Now go.” Jungwon shoos you away.
“Yeah go talk.” Niki says to Jake.
Both of you don’t budge. Jay tugs at your arm. “Come on, Jake and y/n becoming friends!”
The whole group starts chanting. “JAKE AND Y/N BECOMING FRIENDS!”
You had to admit that their enthusiasm was kind of endearing, so you swallow your pride and walk over to the lifeguard tower. You hear him not far behind you.
You climb up the stairs and let your feet hang over the ledge of the patio.
He sits down next to you.
You let a few moments of silence pass before speaking up. “I don’t want to be here as much as you do, so let’s just wait for the five minutes to pass and then go.”
“Damn,” he says. “Do you really hate me that much?”
You roll your eyes. “What do you think?”
“What did I ever do to you?” he scoffs.
“I don’t need to justify my feelings.” you cross your arms.
“Why are you so dense?” he grumbles.
You whip your body over to him. “I’m the dense one?”
“Yeah,” he says proudly. You want to slap the smug look off of his pretty face. Normal face. Slightly, almost, barely good looking face.
“Such a prick,” you mumble, turning away.
“What’d you call me?” he scrunches his eyebrows.
You look him right in the eyes. You never noticed how dark and piercing they were. “A fucking prick. Cause you are one.”
His black hair is still damp and poking into his eyes. His lips are parted and they look so soft that you almost want to kiss him. But he beats you to it.
I should push him away. Push him away you dumbass. You kept telling yourself but you couldn’t do it. His lips felt too good against yours.
Your arms snake around his waist as he lays you onto your back.
You wish you had a hundred hands so you could touch all of him. Two weren’t enough. He feels like silk and he tastes like red velvet.
He pushes your jaw up so he can get to your neck. You exhale as his tongue dances on your skin. He grinds his hips into yours and you let out a small moan. Why are you letting him affect you like this? Idiot.
“I thought you hated me?” he smirks while kissing your chest.
“I do.” you breathe out.
“You sure?” he asks, his fingers traveling down your stomach and into your bikini bottoms.
“Mhm.” you say.
He kisses your collarbone. “People you hate don’t make you wet like this.”
That just makes you throb even more.
“Fuck off,” you say and he backs up.
“Really?” he says. “Because I will.”
You roll your eyes and pull him in by the back of the neck.
“Touch me,” you say and he happily obliges. You knew were in public but it was dark and honestly, you didn’t care.
“Such a slut,” he says while running a finger up and down your slit. “If you wanted me this badly you should’ve said so sooner.”
“I don’t want you asshole.” you breathe out as he circles your clit.
“You just asked me to touch you princess,” he kisses your neck. “I think that’s good evidence.”
You rub your fingers through the back of his hair and tug it back, exposing his neck. He lets out a small moan. You kiss his neck, sucking and nibbling every now and then. When you pull away there’s at least three red blotches that go from his throat to his chest.
“People are gonna see those you know?” he says.
“Whatever.” you roll your eyes.
“Are you marking me or something? Telling everyone that I’m yours?” he boasts.
It’s confusing how your anger is feeding into your lust for him.
“Shut up and fuck me.” you say and he cocks a brow.
“Maybe if you ask nicely,” he kisses your cheek sweetly. You want to wipe it off and slap him in the face.
“Who do you think you are?” you scoff at him.
“Come on dont play with me,” he pushes one finger into you and you moan. “I can tell that you want it.”
It was true. You were practically gushing.
“More,” you say, wanting another finger.
“Where are your manners?” he smirks.
You swallow your pride. “Please?”
“Good girl,” he says and it sends tingles down your spine.
He pulls your bikini bottoms to the side and rubs his thumb up your slit. “Such a pretty cunt.”
Your thighs are already trembling.
“I really thought you’d still be hating me right now.” he says lowly. “Do I make you that weak?”
You snap to your senses for a moment. “Fuck you.”
“I am.” he snickers and you roll your eyes.
“Don’t give me attitude princess.” he warns you with a dangerous smile.
“Or what?” you test him.
“Do you really wanna find out?”
“What do you think you’re intimidating or something?” you ask and he scoffs.
He sits up and grabs your arm. “Get up.”
“Get up.” he says sternly and you do.
He grabs your hand, leading you somewhere.
“Where are we going?” you ask, agitated. If you really didn’t want to go you wouldn’t, but you secretly wanted to continue what was going on.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Jungwon calls out. “Don’t leave me!”
“I’ll be just a second!” you reply with an unsure smile.
“Backseat.” Jake says as you approach his Mercedes.
So bossy, you think.
You sit in the back seat and before you know it he’s pulling you into his lap.
“Let’s continue shall we?” he says and you don’t waste any time getting your lips on his.
He pushes your hips down onto his and you whimper. You were already so wet and this was just making it worse.
“Please, I can’t wait any longer.” you say, not being able to hold it in.
“For what?” he nips at your neck.
“I need to feel you inside of me.” you plead.
“That’s better.” he tugs his shorts down and pulls your swimsuit to the side.
You grab the base of him before slowly sinking down. “Fuck yes.” you moan in relief.
He fills you up perfectly and his tip brushes your g-spot every time you bounce.
“So fucking tight.” he growls, holding onto your hips tight.
Your legs begin to tremble from the pleasure so he grabs you by the waist and lays you on your back.
He snaps his hips into yours and you whine.
He smirks. “Look at you all spread out for me,” he kisses your neck. “Taking this cock deep inside you.”
Your fingers trail down to rub at your clit. “Please don’t stop.”
He flips you over into doggy and tugs your hair, bringing your ear up to his mouth.
“Tell me how bad you want it.”
“Really bad,” you whimper.
He smacks your ass and you let out a small squeal.
“Touch with yourself while I fuck you.” he lets you go and you rest on the door. Your fingers move to play with your pussy.
His hands are tight on your waist as he pounds into you.
You feel your knees start to give out and your cunt start to pulse around him.
He chuckles. “Are you close sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” you exhale. “Please make me cum, please I need it so bad.”
“Why should I think you deserve it?”
“Please, I can’t hold it any longer.” you say and he stops his movements completely.
He gets close to your ear. “You get to cum when I say so okay?”
You accept defeat. “Okay.”
You start to get more and more flustered as he continues to fuck you just right.
“Fuck Jake I can’t,” you whimper and hold onto the car door for dear life.
He pulls out suddenly and you complain before feeling his tongue on you. Your body tenses up from the pleasure.
“You taste so fucking good,” he says and you arch your back, pushing your pussy into his mouth. He moans against you.
After only a couple circles on your clit with his tongue, you’re ready to come undone. You grab onto his hand.
“Wait wait I’m close,”
And before you can utter another word he slams his cock into you and brings his hand around you to rub your clit.
“Cum on this cock sweetheart, I know you can do it.” he encourages you.
He smiles as your moans get louder and more high pitched.
Your legs start to shake and he grabs you tight. He comes up to your ear. “Be a good girl for me won’t you.”
Your eyes roll back as bliss runs through your entire body. He was probably the best lay you’ve ever had.
Your body goes slack as he cums inside of you.
“Fuck,” he growls and slowly pulls out. He picks you up and holds you in his arms as you try to ride out the trembling.
“How am I supposed to clean up?” you ask.
“Maybe you can swim again?” he jokes and you punch him in the arm. “Do you still hate me?”
“One hundred percent.” you say confidently.
“Are you kidding?” he scoffs. “My kids are in you right now.”
You fake gag and he laughs.
677 notes · View notes
Pizza and A Pack of Beers
*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.
• Requested: Yessss by my bestie who takes up 80% of my requests and i absolutely love her for it lmao @halsteadlover
Hiiii bestie so you know what I'm about to ask you soooo pleaseeeeee write about jealous Jay turning up at your place after Kim set you up on a date with someone from med like I KNOW FOR A FACT you'd write it PERFECTLY 😩😩😩😩😩 can't wait to read it
Love you lots don't hate me lol xx 💞
• Warnings: Swearing
• Summary: Kim sets you up on a date but it doesn’t go well and there’s only one person you wish would turn up at your door to comfort you but when he does you don’t expect him to tell you everything you’ve always wanted him to say.
• Words: 6089.
• A/N : thank you so much for 500 followers!! You have no idea how happy this platform makes me and how I don’t feel I deserve this at all but I appreciate each and every one of you for putting up with me! I’ know I promised some jealous jay which this is slightly but im so weak for soft Jay at the moment.. hope this lives up to your expectations bestie, if it doesn’t dont kill me and i apologise for the title, i couldn’t think of a good one lmao. Also, I have about 5 other requests on the go at the moment which I’ll be posting one at the weekend. I’m not ignoring them, I promise I’m working on them but I just want to make sure they’re right before they’re posted.
Hope you enjoy!
“Y/N?” Adam calls out from the other side of the room “you coming Molly’s? Kev’s buying” he remarks but the displeased look on Atwaters face tells a different story “Uh, no he is not”. You chuckle but shake your head, checking to see who’s around with a slight relief it was just the 3 of you as the others were in the lockeroom grabbing their stuff.
“I can’t, enjoy though” you chime, shutting the drawers in your desk and tossing the key to Adam who looks back at you confused “Is this because Kev said he wasn’t buying?” he raises his brows to Atwater who holds his hands up in defence “Don’t look at me bro, you ain’t gonna get round me”.
You roll your eyes at the pair and groan “I have a date, alright?”you confess and their eyes widen at your comment “Like a date, date?” Adam probes “What other kind of dates are there?” you mock, grabbing your coat from the back of your chair before placing it over your arm.
“With who?” Kevin interupts, reminding you how grateful you were it was just the 3 of you as god knows how much this unit loves a gossip.
“Halstead?” Adam asks and you scoff “Yeah right, he wishes” you remark but they stand stern before you as you knit your brows in hesitancy “What? Kim set me up with some doctor from Med” you innocently question, Kevin runs his hand along his jawline as he smirks “You two confuse me, I swear you’re like obsessed with each other yet neither of you will do anything about it?”.
You find yourself speechless at his answer as you never realized how much people had caught on. You and Jay had been partners since the beginning, Voight teaming you up to be ‘good cop, bad cop’ on a mission and years later here you were.
Surely the little added extras just came with how close you had to be in the job, right? Knowing one an other better than you know yourself, being able to reel off their coffee order without having to think twice, the pang of worry you feel when things start to go south were all just natural, surely?
You can’t say you hadn’t let your mind wander to the thought of you and Jay being more. The way you catch him looking at you sometimes as you bury yourself in paperwork, his late night calls to make sure you got home safe from a night out, offering you a place to stay if you’d worked too late and he didn’t want you to be alone.
You’d become so accustom to it at this point that you didn’t think twice about the little guestures but clearly others had. If there was something you’d learnt quickly in this job it was that word travels fast and something doesnt stay a secret for long, you only dread the conversations they’ve had about you and Jay behind your back and wonder if he’s thinking the same.
You shrug Kevin’s comments off as they stand waiting for you to give your usual witty response “His loss” you scorn, earning an sharp intake of breath from the pair as Adam brings a fist to his mouth to laugh
“Does he know about this little date you’ve got?” he asks but before you can respond, the man himself and Kim stroll into the room and you slightly swear under your breath that you hadn’t left sooner.
“Everyone coming?” Kim asks and you brace yourself for how Kevin and Adam are going to land you in it but to your surprise, neither of them do. “Y/N said she’ll join us later” Adam speaks for you to which you nudge his arm after saying no such thing
“You want me to tell Halstead you got a date?” he mumbles and you roll your eyes “Exactly” he sarcastically smiles before turning back to the others.
“Why you not going now?” Jay asks and you stutter your words before Kevin interjects “She’s got female stuff to deal with man, leave it at that” he comments and you internally want to give him a punch to the shoulder at the thought he really couldn’t come up with anything better.
“Everything okay?” Jay probes, slight hint of worry in his tone but you’re yet again spoken for by Adam “She’s all good man” he assures and Jay chuckles “She can’t speak for herself?”. You make your way in front of your two new apparent bodyguards and catch the look as Kim finally twigs onto why you’re not joining them in Molly’s
“Oh yeah, she’s just got other plans” she sends a wink in your direction and you laugh at the fact you still actually haven’t said a word considering you were the one being questioned.
“I’ll see you later” you comment, turning to head down the stairs of the district but not before Adam can get one more quip in as you leave “Don’t do anything I wouldn't do!” he calls out, clearly already forgetting the ‘female stuff’ reason they gave.
You can already see the glare Jay shoots him, he hates not being in the know about something and especially if it came to you and it was even worse if he was being lied to about it. Despite this, something deep down told you it was for the best he didn’t know about your date.
You can hear them all cackling at your expense behind you so you decided to have the last laugh at Adams clever comment “Doesn’t leave me with much does it Ruzek?” you hear them ‘ooo’ at your come back, followed by a “oh, come on” groan from Adam which confirms you’d won.
You sat at the table, running your fingertip along the top of your wine glass as you listened to the man opposite groan about his neighbours and the dog that barks in the middle of the night. Struggling to remember the last time you opened your mouth to speak, let alone him trying to engage you in the conversation.
Your mind wandered over to the group at Molly’s, picturing how Adam would be ordering another round of shots and despite the moaning everyone would cheer as he goes to grab another tray.
There’d be some deep conversations going on about things that had gone wrong throughout the week, encouraged by a few drinks as the heart felt stories pour out.
Most importantly all you could think of was your partner sat there without you by his side. Your stupid smug face partner who would constantly piss you off to the brink of wanting to murder but, he always knew how to get back on your good side with the mischievous glint in his eye everytime. He was your partner and most importantly, he wasn’t the man sitting opposite you.
At this point, thinking about what you needed on your next trip to the grocery store was what was keeping you sane and not falling asleep in your meal. Your favoritie meal wasn’t even appealing to you anymore, pushing the carbs around with your fork as you winced at the sound of the fork occasionally scraping the plate.
If someone paid you 100 bucks you couldn’t say what he was currently complaining about and you’re surprised how he hasn’t picked up on the fact your mind was a million miles away.
“Everything okay with the meal?” you jolt out of your thoughts as the waiter approaches to clear your plates, looking down embarrassed at the pitiful attempt you’d made at finishing the dish.
“Lovely thank you but I’m just too full” you remark, taking the final sip of your drink and also handing the glass to the water “Just the bill please” you add to the surprise of your date, Brad who looked at you confused.
“Wrapping this up so soon?” he mocks, raised brows to match his tone as he also finishes his drink.
“Just not feeling great” you lie, thinking it would be the easiest excuse to leave early but he wasn’t having it as he shrugged “Come back to mine and I’ll look after you”.
Well, if you didn’t feel ill before you did now, the smugness drawn across his face sends shivers down your spine and not in a good way. He’d spoken about nothing but himself all evening and now he expects you to go back to his place even though you’d just said you don’t feel well?
“I’m fine thanks” you decline, grateful for the bill being placed between the pair of you as the waiter returns. “Will we be splitting it this evening?” he innocently asks, Brad confidently slamming his card onto the table before you can even reach your purse with a cocky remark “There’s more than enough on there to cover this, big man”. You offered a weak smile, containing the internal scoff you so badly wanted to let out but covered your mouth with your hand to stop yourself.
The waiter looks down at you, subtle eye roll as you let out a sigh “Have a good evening” he offers, quick to turn and leave the pair of you sat in silence as you make the first move to leave.
Standing and pushing your chair under the table to which he soon follows, holding his arm out to allow you to walk in front of him. The hairs on the back of your neck stand as you feel his gaze piercing into your lower back, the instant regret of wearing such a skin tight dress loomed as you finally made it outside the restaurant.
“I’m gonna call a cab to take me home” you distract yourself by loading the app on your phone but he chuckles “Oh, so you’re really not coming back to mine?” he slurs, luckily not facing you as you’re unable to withhold the look of disgust at his continuous comments and clearly not getting the hint.
You flinch as a hand presses against your back, feeling him breathing down on you and instantly wanting to heave from the smell of booze on his breath as he speaks “Come on pretty girl, I’ll make you feel better”. He drapes his jacket around your shoulders and despite how hard you try to shrug it off he keeps it firmly on your shoulders.
This wasn’t the feeling you were used too, normally it was your partners jackets being handed to you after a long night and he notices you shivering or simply a way to say ‘I told you so’ after he insisted you should bring a jacket but you shut him down with the endless ‘Jay, I’ll be fine’ comments but eventually giving in to be engulfed in his attire.
As much as you tried to not compare the two, it was like an angel and devil on each shoulder. One was reminding you of the constant digs or snarky comments he would make that drove you insane but there was the other that pushed the thoughts of what made him so great.
When he would stay late at the district because you wanted to wrap a case up and he didn’t want you to be alone or the time he would bring you a coffee in the morning after watching you knock back drinks at Molly’s the night before. He was a pain in the ass but my god, he was worth every annoyance.
Brad really wasn’t getting the hint, you bat his chest to get him off you as he stumbles back “Thanks for dinner” you mock, grateful the cab you’d ordered had just spun round the corner, securing your safety and ticket away from the dreadful man.
You quickly open the door and jump in, shutting the door behind you and locking it “You didn’t give me your number” he calls out on the other side of the window but you grimace a smile “If it’s meant to be, you’ll guess it”.
The cab driver clearly got the hint better than Brad did, slamming his foot onto the pedal as he drives away “Rough night?” he jokes to which you huff with your head leaning on the window “Like you wouldn’t believe”.
You’d thought about going to Molly’s to put a positive end to your night but even that didn’t appeal to you. You directed the cab driver to your apartment where you were now slouched on the sofa, silence only being interrupted by the gargles from your stomach and the regret of not finishing your meal earlier playing on your mind.
Feeling sorry for yourself after removing your make up and change into some comfier clothes, shoving them into the wash to get rid of any smell from Brad. Half tempted to burn them to destroy any evidence completely.
Aimlessly scrolling through your phone, laughing at the videos posted to social media of everyone in Molly’s downing drinks like there was no tomorrow as they raised a glass to anything they could think of as an excuse to get another.
Slightly regretting not going but the last thing you wanted was to be bombarded with questions as soon as you enter the door, questions you didn’t want to lie about to avoid hurting Kim’s feelings but also it was a group of detectives, they could tell a lie from a mile off.
Meanwhile, Adam was at the bar with Kim who was bragging about the man she had set you up with and how great the pair of you would be together. Jay listened intently, trying his best to pry his attention away but failing as he innocently drank his beer with the occasoinal nod or hum in agreement to Kim’s spiel.
He didn’t wait to hear it.
He didn’t want to hear how she thought this man was perfect for you. He didn’t want to hear she thought you’d be having such a great time. He didn’t want to hear it yet he couldnt tear himself away.
Suddenly Kim jumps from her seat, bounding towards the door as Brad enters. She was clearly expecting you to be there so couldn’t hide the dissapointment when he walked in alone, Jay was equally as confused but dare he say, relieved?
The thought of you walking in on another man’s arm would inrage him so was quite glad to see him bowl in by himself. Kim ushered him over to Jay and Adam at the bar to join them, shouting to Herrmann to get him a beer as he introduces himself to the pair.
“Ah, you’re Will’s brother?” Brad comments, holding his hand out to offer but Jay keeps one hand wrapped around the bottle at his lips and the other resting on the bar, causing Brad to retract his hand back into his pocket “Yeah, that’s me” he responds with a dry tone, wanting Brad to get the hint he was the last person he’d want stood in front of him right now.
“Yeah, she mentioned you actually” Brad comments, also taking a sip of his beer as Jay’s eyes light up at the thought of you talking about him, even during a date “Said how annoying you are” he chuckles at his own comment to which Adam and Kim join in the amusement but Jay was stern faced and not enjoying the digs in the slightest.
“How was it then?” Kim raises her voice in excitment to change the subject after noticing the glare Jay was currently burning into Brad’s side. “Man, she’s great” he gloats, leaning back on his heels as he smirks “Quite a mouth on her too”. Kim almost chokes on her drink at his comment, Jay suddenly you having a tight grip on the beer bottle as his fists clench.
“Couldn’t shut her up, she loved talking to me about everything. Kept going on about how much she was missing her little sister and her dog Lily” he shrugged but Jay scoffed.
“She said that?” he asks, confidence laced in his voice as he took another sip of his beer before earning a nod from Brad “Interesting” he mumbles, flicking his eyes over to Kim and Adam who also had knitted brows in confusion.
“What did she order?” Jay continues to interrogate, clearly unsettling Brad as he harshly swallows “What’s with all the questions?” he hits back to which Jay shrugs casually “I’m a detective, can’t help myself sometimes”.
Kim clears her throat to break the tension as Jay and Brad continue staring at each other. Even with the disadvantage of Jay being sat on the stool and Brad towering over him, Jay still couldn’t stop himself thinking how easy it would be to tackle him to the ground if he dared to say something about you that would set him off.
“Some salad thing, barely touched it she was so invested in what I was saying. Think she just wanted to get me back to hers” he raises his brows to Adam who responds with a disgusted look, he wasn’t getting the right vibe from Brad and even worse he wasn’t getting the hint.
Jay let’s put a pitiful laugh which grabs Brads attention “Am I missing something here?” he questions, directing his voice to Adam but Jay stands to bring the attention back onto him.
“First of all, she doesn’t have a sister or a dog” he commands as he harshly places his now empty beer bottle on the bar and watches how Brad quickly looks down at the firm hand placed round the shockingly in tact bottle but then back up to Jay’s menacing glare.
“Second of all, stop bullshitting about how well it went when she was clearly would’ve thought you were as dull as dish water and would prefer watching paint dry” he hands some money across to Adam to pay for his round before excusing himself.
“You don’t have to be a detective to work out she’s way too good for you” he spits out at Brad as he passes, nudging his shoulder as he passes and heads for the door. He could barely gather his thoughts, he didn’t know what he was doing or what he would say but he just needed to be with you.
You tutted at the reality show, screaming the occasional curse word at a stupid answer or calling out if you thought of it before the contestants did. You usually hated reality shows, refusing to watch any of the popular yearly series that grace the screen but this was helping to distract you from your awful evening and how much you wished you’d just gone to Molly’s.
‘I’d rather be with them’ you thought to yourself before audially sighing when you realize you really should be saying ‘I’d rather be with him’.
Thoughts of Jay being in Molly’s grow increasingly harder to ignore, you know how much female attention he gets and can only picture the way he’s enjoying himself without having to look over his shoulder and see you giving the girl a death glare.
He was probably talking to the third or fourth girl of the night by now and not even through trying. He’d head to the bar to order a round and instantly be caught by a girl at his side, tossing her hair around with a cringy giggle as she tries it on with him.
Depending on his mood, he’d either entertain it to pass the time as he waits for the drink or in his gentlemanly way tell her he was here to enjoy time with his friends and wasn’t interested but of course you couldn’t possibly think of the second option right now.
In your head he was outside with some girl, pinning her against the wall as their alcohol soaked lips crash together while he whispers sweet nothings in her ear to earn that stupid little laugh like she hasn’t got exactly what she wanted. It made you feel sick.
Wandering over to the kitchen to stare at the near empty fridge, reaching for another beige food item as you snack on the odd piece of junk food you’d collected throughout the week. Eating half a chocolate bar but throwing it away as it wasn’t helping the sick feeling and deciding on grabbing yourself a glass of water and heading to bed for a somewhat early night.
You huff as you pad across the room, hunched shoulders from feeling sorry for yourself but you were truly the one to blame. After a terrible date you should’ve gone to the bar to be with your friends, to be with him but no you came home to wallow in self pity, good one.
A round of knocks from the front door echo throughout the apartment, checking the time to see 11.05pm flashing back at you from the TV monitor. You thought about asking who it was but deciding to not answer it as it would probably be some of your drunk neighbors asking if you had any lemonade as they’d run out or something stupid like that.
Normally, you’d atleast check who it was but you weren’t in the mood. What if it was Brad? He’d come to try his luck one more time? The thought made you feel even worse and if anything hurried you further away from the door.
“If you don’t answer your phone, you can atleast let me in”
The pit in your stomach grew as you heard the all too familiar voice, surely he hadn’t come all this way just to check up on you? That would be just you imagining something you wanted to happen and those things didn’t happen to you, not with him.
“Y/N. Open the door” you hear Jay’s voice boom, not out of anger but dare you say, concern?
You take a quick glance in the mirror, cursing yourself for removing your make up and changing into some slobby comfy clothes. He knocks again but this time doesn’t stop, continuing to pound his fists into the door as he doesn’t take no for an answer.
You run your hands through your hair in some attempt to regain some form of decency before twisting the door handle and opening to see Jay stood in the hall, pizza box in one hand bottle and pack of beers in the other. His smile is infectious as he radiates happiness from the moment he see’s you, holding the items up with raised brows
“Pizza’s getting cold and these are getting warm”
You roll your eyes before opening the door fully to let him into the apartment, feeling the instant relief of comfort from his aftershave as he closely passes “You didn’t unhook the latch, do you have it on normally?” you slowly shut the door, turning to him in confusion as he makes himself at home by grabbing the bottle opener and handing you an open bottle of beer.
“Didn’t realise I’d just let my dad in?” you joke but he flashes a stern look before turning back to the pizza “Just saying”.
You make your way back over to the sofa, letting him get organised before he finally joins you. He places the pizza box between the pair of you and for a split second you take that as a hint he doesn’t want to get too close to you, otherwise he’d sit beside you and place the box on the table in front but no, he was keeping his distance.
Each grabbing a slice of pizza, you turn your attention back to the screen but feel his gaze still on you “You hate these things? I told you to watch Love Island and you nearly didn’t speak to me for a week” he throws his hand up in gest as you chuckle “It’s a game show, it’s different”.
He leans to grab a beer and the room falls silent , each waiting for the other to speak but neither of you sure what to say. The inner battle in Jay’s head of whether to ask about your date sends the cogs in his brain turning, so fast it’s a surprise you don’t hear them.
On one hand he wants to hear about how horrible it was, how you hated every second and wish you hadn’t gone but on the other what if you loved it? What if you’d gone home to wait for Brad to come over later? What if you’d already texted him to come and that’s why you weren’t asnwering your phone when he tried to call earlier?
“Why are you here?” your timid voice breaks the silence, also just as nervous to speak as Jay. You fully expected to be told some story about how he was craving warm pizza and your apartment was closer than his to eat it whilst it was hot. Or how he needed a place to stay for a few hours before heading into work the next morning so you were just a convenience but neither of those things were his reponse.
“I was worried about you”
You almost choke on your sip of beer, placing it back on the table as you finish your pizza slice “You were worried about me?” you double check you heard correctly and you weren’t just having one of those outer body experiences where you’re hearing what you wish he would say.
“Brad came to Molly’s” he smirks and your heart drops “Shit” you mumble, running your hand across your forhead as you chuckle “Did he say what a terrible date I am?” you look at Jay through your fingers as he shakes his head, trying to surpress a grin but failing “Just the opposite actually”.
You sit confused, waiting for Jay to ellaborate on his story as he throws a pizza crust back into the box and rubbing his hands on his jeans to dust off the crumbs “Was raving about you. In fact, think he’s quite fond of you”.
You throw your head back and groan “Don’t tell me that, if you’re gonna sit and say how great he is you can leave” you point to the door but Jay stays seated with the signature smile spreading on his face “I’m not going anywhere”.
It had been a few hours since Jay turned up at your door, he’d convinced you to turn to his favourite late night game show which you were now watching. After finishing the pizza, he took the box into the kitchen and took you by surprise as he sat down right beside you. You froze, instantly feeling like a shy school girl again after the boy you like accidentally touched your hand, but this wasn’t accidental. It was far from it.
He swung his arm round the back of the sofa and wrapped it around your shoulders to pull you into him, allowing yourself to lean your head on his shoulder as he placed his on top of yours. You stared at the screen feeling riged, scared to even breathe too heavy as you were so close he would feel anything and everything.
“It’s Mount Rushmore, idiot” he called out, removing his head from yours to point at the TV. “Is he for real? How thick can people be?” he argued with himself as you watched on, who knew someone yelling at a TV game show could give you such loving butterflies in your stomach?
‘Top 5 places a guy will take a girl on a date’
The next question flashes up on the screen and you pat Jay on the thigh, an innocent guesture that you didn’t think much of until after you’d done it. Feeling him flick his eyes down to your hand that was still resting on his leg before returning his attention back to the screen “This ones on you Halstead”.
He sighs as the first answer is revealed, “Well the movies is boring” he scoffs “worst date ever, you just sit at a screen and don’t talk. What’s the point? Can do that at home” you chuckle at his groaning which earns a hum of confusion from Jay.
“You go next” he switches the question onto you but you shake your head “This is from a guys point of view, don’t bring this onto me” you return your head on his shoulder and slightly nestle into his neck.
Your skin feels like its burning as his hand drops from the back of the sofa to your waist and pulls you closer to him. You expect him to make a joke about it or a sarcastic comment but he doesn’t, it’s almost as if he doesn’t even realise he’s done it and that it was more of a natrual thing for him to do.
The answers continue to be revealed, each getting more stereotypical each time and earning a dig from Jay after every failed attempt of the contestants guessing “Do these people just watch films and get the ideas from there?” he moans “No originality these days”.
“Okay Mr Originality, what’s your idea of a perfect date then?” you ask, still keeping your head nestled into him as you feel his chest vibrate in a soft laugh “You really wanna know?” he asks to which you nod “I wanna know what the bachelor Jay Halstead does to impress the ladies”.
He takes a final sip of his beer before setting it down on the table, an inaudible sigh escaping your lips as you feel him slightly lift his grasp that had settled on your hips. You stay slouched into the sofa, hoping he will return to his position to which you feel your heat skip as leans back to join you.
“So” he begins, kicking his feet up on the table and once again slinging his arm around you. You allow your head to fall back into the crook of his neck with a content hum, hearing a light chuckle which tells you he heard your almost silent noise.
“First of all, it wouldn’t be the movies or the theatre. That’s just stupid and especially if its a first date, you can’t even get to know the person, I don’t understand. Second of all I’d” you tap lightly against his chest to stop him in his rant.
“Are we gonna be continuing with this number scheme? Feels like i’m in school” you joke, feeling Jay sink his head onto yours and dig his fingertips into your skin to make you jolt “Fine, I’ll start again”.
“I’d turn up at the door, maybe flowers or maybe some beers. Sometimes I’d book a table at their favourite restaurant but I wouldn’t just ask them which one. I would’ve found out sneakily through conversation or asking their friends or collegues so they’re surprised when we get there at how well I pay attention to these things.”
You instantly regret asking, why did you have to ask him about his ‘Jay Halstead’ moves when the thought of him on a date with someone else makes you feel physically sick? You can’t stand your mind entertaining the thought of another girl giving him attention at a bar whilst he waits for drinks, let alone him describing in depth the extra miles he’d go to when he’s with a girl he likes.
You continue listening to his story, getting lost in his words as he seems to let them fall from his lips so casually as he describes the date.
“I’d maybe even pick them up from work, surprise them with a weekend away if we’ve been together a while to try and get some time together” he pauses before taking a deep breath and continuing on.
“Even something so simple as not being able to enjoy a night at Molly’s if she isn’t there so turning up at her apartment with a nearly cold pizza and 4 pack of beer to scream answers at TV presenter that can’t hear us until she falls asleep with her head on my shoulder.
I’d cover her with a blanket, not wanting to carry her to bed incase she got the wrong idea. I’d set up a little place for myself on the chair next to her, watching as she smiles in her sleep and wondering if she’s thinking of me and if she knows just how crazy she makes me”
His voice trails off, almost as if he was speaking without thinking and now second guessing everything he’s just said. He was clearly speaking about you.
The amount of time he’d wish he could book a table at your favourite Italian restaurant that he see’s you looking at the menu for all the time but can never justify the price.
Overhearing you and Kim talking about a cabin by the lake you saw on social media, craving the idea of him whisking you away after work for an impromptu weekend where he could have you all to himself and not have to share you with anyone. He wanted all those things, but he could only see them happening with you.
“Sounds an awful lot like you’ve got someone in mind for these dates?” you tease “She’s a luckily girl if shes got Jay Halstead thinking of her like that” you remark, unsure of whether to acknowledge everyhing he has just spilled out or to let it pass by, put it down to him having a few drinks and clearly getting more tired as you feel him pull you into him more and the weight of him leaning on you growing stronger.
“Yeah she is, too bad I have to watch her go on dates with other guys and hear him rave about it at a bar when all I can think about if how it should be me”.
Another silence falls between you, it had gone too far for it to be considered a ‘drunken comment’ at this point he was just describing you and you both knew it.
“You should tell her how you feel” you lift your hand to innocently play with the buttons on his shirt, nothing sinster or sexual about it but you found comfort in the extra form of touch.
You yawn into his side, draping your arm across his chest as you bring your leg to rest onto his. You feel him drop a kiss to the top of your head as he places his other hand on your thigh to hook it round him, further closing the gap between the pair of you as you feel him harshly swallow “I think I just did”.
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I'm still on asmo being a sadistic little fucker and basically never letting it on til ur with him in the moment and he just insists on making you cum way too much and laughing at how you cant talk after a while. He also definitely seems the type to take out his phone and snap pictures or take short videos of whoever hes fucking just to send to that person later like "lol you look so cute in this one" during an argument to shut them up 🙄
Dont get me wrong I like soft asmo and all but him secretly being the most sadistic of them all is my favorite thing and interpretation,, what i wouldn't give for that 2 be canon but yeah basically [overstimm and implied blackmail at the end]
getting undone so so many times by him, that you can't even tell he's acting strange because your head is foggy from the several orgasms he's pulled from you. And he's not stopping any time soon, with his claws digging on the flesh of your hips as he eats you out from the back- Asmo's laughter vibrates against your skin. bounces on the rooms walls when your thighs start to tremble again and threaten to give in.
Just how much time he had you spread like this, you couldn't tell, nor how longer would he. And nevermind asking, did you even know any words at all apart from his name?
'A-asmo...I d-don't think I can--'
'No, of course you can, my love~' just one more, or two, or any amount because he doesn't want to see the end of it and feels entitled to ruin you. Biting hard on your thigh just to watch you yelp and writhe, push against his face before his tongue digs in again.
And you're this close from just collapsing into the bed, but don't worry. He's catching you, of course! A vicegrip on your waist with a strength so inconspicuous; pulling you close against him and tight. Because Asmo simply can't allow you to go, you're still missing his cock in you, after all. Aren't you?
No matter he fingered and ate you out dumb. That your chest aches from panting this hard, throat is raw from moaning and will be sore next morning. He won't stop until leaving you a mess, a ruin of what came crawling into his bed asking for attention.
He'll slide inside you easily, you're just so wet for him he has to laugh again, whether in delight or in mockery you can't tell. But would fuck into you terribly slow.
What Asmo wants to watch is how you loose your head over him. Since he can't really charm you, takes a special kind of pleasure in witnessing you babbling useless as he thrusts in and out deliberately, the string of nonsense pleads music to his ears.
He hushes. He hums. But the little smile on his face tells no lies.
'Uh huh, baby I know-' and 'Shh now, I know you want it harder but, I don't think you can take that much...'
Taunting you with a silly pout, daring tell him you actually can.
No gentle finger placed on your lip to silence you, just him straight up pushing your fucked out, flushing face into rose satin sheets; he pulls out his ddd and snaps pic after pic of your expression while you can't utter complaint because he's thrusting in you just so right.
You're numb and getting off on how unexpected the turn of events too, how cruel this streak and beautiful his grin, light reflecting off sharp teeth.
'You are so cute like this!' he coos, snaps another as your brows furrow when you come once more on his cock but barely feel it at all, stirring inside at the knowledge he'll use the pics to his advantage any time.
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love u like an alcoholic (nsfw) ~ pt 2
Hawks x fem reader, Dabi x fem reader, UHHH Dabi x Hawks lol
No because these two PLEASE
cw: smut as fuck, angst, lil fluff and aftercare, jealousy, angst as fuck, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation, sorta cucking?, threesome, orgasm denial, slut/daddy/sir are used, overstimulation a touch, quirkless au- its also not proofread
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!!
!come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in! Requests are open!!!
WE'RE JUMPIN RIGHT BACK IN BUDDIES SO GO READ PART 1 FIRST LMAO
“-Problem?” He asks, reaching behind you to shut the water off, letting his breath hit your neck as he whispered. “You really think I’m gonna let that shit slide? Pulling a stunt like that and fucking my best friend while you know damn well that this-” You reaches down to your unclothed, wet cunt, slapping it lightly making you gasp. “- is my pussy? I hope you have some left in you, princess.”
He lifts you up onto the counter, making you dizzy with arousal knowing your plan worked. He finally realized.
The only problem is, now Dabi’s on your mind too
Spreading your legs and letting his hand find your entrance, Keigo looked into your eyes.
"Keigo- please I just needed to show- fuck-" You tried to explain the situation to him as he slipped his fingers into your already slick center.
"Needed to show me what? That you could get anyone, too? I fuckin know that, baby bird. You think I'm-" Another finger found itself buried in you. "-fuckin blind?" He panted.
"No- fuck Kei! I don't think youre blind but you, shit you always expect me to-" You cut yourself off with a gasp when his fingertips brushed that spot he never failed to find.
"I expect you to always be ready? Waiting for me? I know princess, but you're just the best I cant help it." Keigo explained poorly, giving you no resolution. You swear that if his fingers weren't sheathed in your cunt you'd be bitching him out.
"I deserve consis- consisten- con- cum please! I want to cum let me cum more i need it Kei!" Your train of thought flew out the window as the coil in your abdomen got tighter and tighter.
"Oh thats fuckin RICH princess!" He yanked his fingers away from your soaked pussy, laughing lightly. "You don't get to cum that fast after the-" It was your turn to cut him off.
"No, I'm not doing this." Your head was spinning with emotions and over stimulation and you felt dizzy but you needed to stand your ground.
Steadying yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders, still sat on the bathroom counter, you looked him in his eyes.
"Keigo. I'm not just something you can pick up and put down when you want- it kills me!" You finally admitted to yourself as well as him.
"What? I always come back to you- I tell you all the time!" He whisper-yelled.
"I know you always come back but... What if I didn't want you to leave in the first place? You expect to be the only man I fuck? But what about you?" You question Keigo, hands beginning to trail down to his chest from his shoulders.
"I told you, Y/n, I dont want commitment." He lied through his teeth. After tonight, he only wanted you and wanted you to only need him.
"Then why does it matter that I fucked Dabi?"
"Because! You did it on purpose! You did it to hurt me!" He fully yelled.
"Oh and why did that hurt you?" You asked, needing the truth.
His hand found the back of your neck and he put his forehead to yours.
"Dont make me say it, princess."
Before you could form a response, the door opened, making you both pull away, and making you put your thighs together to cover yourself.
"And just what the fuck is this, Keigo? Angel?" Dabi asked, leaning against the doorway.
"I-I didn't know he would be in here." You stuttered out, unsure of why he had this dominating effect on you when he barely knew you.
"Damn, where'd all the confidence go, angel?" Dabi questioned, smirking at you and then turning his attention to his roommate.
"This is the girl?" Dabi pointed to you. "This is the one you crawl back to every week? I mean, I can see why- she's absolutely delicious. Youre a fuckin idiot for not tying her down, pretty boy."
"Shut the fuck up- you dont know the situation Dabi. You were a pawn tonight." Keigo seethed, stepping towards the man in the door way.
"I'm sure it started like that. But she's not just for you anymore. Because me? I'm gonna show her how she deserves to be shown off."
Those words made your heart flutter and you didn't know why. Your head was spinning as you tried to understand what was happening. Yes, the plan was to get Keigo jealous and get him to commit to you but- Dabi. Fuck. He's so rough around the edges yet he talks about you so lightly even though you just met.
"I'm not gonna let you take her, Dabi."
"Take her? Keigo. She's not yours to claim. You sound pathetic. Tell her your feelings, or she's mine." Dabi explained, still leaning against the door frame, sure of himself.
"She wouldn't drop me for you. She wouldn't drop me at all, Dabi." Keigo puffed his chest out slightly, trying to seem confident in his words.
"Oh that's a good one. I've had her for one fuckin night and she can already tell I'm the better choice." Dabi pushed himself off the door fame and began walking to you.
You looked between the two men, having no idea how you lost control of the situation. The tension was intoxicating. The neediness you felt was unlike anything you've felt before.
"Come, angel. Back to bed." Dabi stood in front of you with him arms out, and you could feel the way he was faking sweetness. Something told you he was lying about being kind to you. But something else told you to grab onto him and wrap your legs around his waist.
So you did.
"Pri-princess. You can't be serious." Keigo stood in the bathroom astonished. How did he lose his best piece of ass? To his roommate?
"I'll make an offer buddy." Dabi turned to the defeated man. "I'll let you fuck her one more time. With me. And then she can choose."
"What? With- with you?" Keigo asked, weighing his options in his head as Dabi already began walking back to the bedroom with you in his arms, muttering how he was going to fuck you senseless for thinking you could use him.
Registering the fact that you both almost reached the room, Keigo scurried behind you, deciding that he could prove himself to you this way. You would realize how much you need his dick. Right?
Laying you on the bed, Dabi turned to see Keigo sheepishly standing in the doorway.
"Come in then, shit head. Let's see what you can do. You can start." Dabi chuckled, sitting on the chair he had on the other side of the room.
You looked up to Keigo with wide doe eyes, as if pleading silently. He knew exactly what to do.
Walking over to the bed, he grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge, making you squeal.
"Hey, remember when I said to be nice to her, Toya?" Hawks asked, not breaking eye contact with you.
"Yeah?" Dabi confirmed, confused.
"I said that because I'm not very nice to her myself."
With that, he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you hard. Your hands tried to grab his hair, but he pulled away.
"No. You're still not getting any fucking privileges. Look at the mess you've made now, princess. All this trouble for your sloppy pussy, huh?" He shoved you down to the bed, Dabi admiring the amount of force he could use.
"I-I'm sor-" Fingers found themselves lodged in your mouth.
"You're sorry? Doubt it. Suck." Keigo said, eyes dark.
You did as you were told, and when you felt the tips of his fingers in the back of your throat, you gagged.
"You can take more than that, slut." Keigo assured you.
Tears pricked your eyes, and you swallowed harshly around his fingers. You attempted to look to Dabi, catching a glance of dick out and hardening, before Keigo shoved his fingers further down your throat, making your eyes slam shut as you sputtered.
"Oh no, this is my turn princess. You don't need to watch him." Keigo reminded you, voice laced with jealousy.
You nodded, letting your throat adjust around his thick fingers. You could feel his dick against your thigh hardening.
Pulling his fingers out, Keigo climbed over you on the bed, leaving his pants behind. He grabbed a couple pillows, allowing you to rest your head on them, giving him easier access.
Hovering his hard cock over your face, his thumb opened your mouth.
He rubbed his tip along the outside of your mouth before putting the tip in. He soon began thrusting into your mouth, pulling your hair as he humped your face.
"Good fuckin girl, princess. Take that dick down your tight throat- fuuuuck." He groaned out, glancing to Dabi himself.
Dabi was stroking his own leaking dick at the sight of his best friend fucking the sweetest girl he ever laid eyes on.
He shoved his dick all the way to the back of your throat, making you sputter around his length with your eyes tightly shut. Your hands clamored around to grab something, anything.
"Dabi. Get the belt off the floor. Her hands are pissing me off." Keigo requested, pulling back and letting you catch your breath as your eyes shot open.
"More than happy to, man." Dabi said, standing up from his chair and leaving his boxers on the floor.
"You doin ok, pretty girl?" Keigo asked sincerely, still hovering over your chest and letting his fingers rest in your hair.
"Yes, sir." You assured him, lips partially numb.
"Sir? Damn." Dabi said off to the side, bringing Keigo the belt.
Keigo wrapped the belt around your wrists and secured them to the bed frame. When he tightened it, you whimpered, making both men groan at your absolute submissive state.
"Dabi, come use her mouth. Its so good." Keigo said, shuffling down your body.
"Dont mind if I do." Dabi replied, scooting himself to hover over your mouth. "Hi angel."
Before you could respond, he put his dick in your mouth, not letting you adjust.
"Ah shit, her mouth is good man." Dabi praised, making your pussy flutter.
Without warning, Keigo dove into your folds, licking a stripe up your pussy, making you moan around Dabis dick.
"Oh fuck angel-" Dabi's hips thrust harder into your mouth and Keigo pushed two fingers into you.
The stimulation from both ends was overwhelming, making you reach your high faster than you thought possible.
"Aw, she's gonna cum, Dabi. Should we let her?" Keigo observed, latching his mouth around your clit again, making you squeal.
"Fuck- yes we should. Cum for us angel." Dabi said, making your head fuzzy and your legs shake as you came all over Keigo's face.
Dabi pulled out of your mouth, needing to hear the noises you were making as you writhed on the bed.
"Not done yet, princess." Keigo assured you,.
Dabi took the belt off your wrists and sat you up, slotting himself behind you, watching Keigo line himself up with your enterance.
"Kei!" You moaned out, feeling his dick along your sensitive folds.
He smacked your thigh, reminding you that- "Its sir to you, slut."
Pushing in, Keigo attempted to bottom out in you with one thrust, but you squirmed. This made Dabi hold your arms tight to your sides and Keigo held your waist. The thrusted again, making you scream with pleasure as he bottomed out.
Keigo grabbed our face, kissing you hard as he fucked you.
The scene made Dabi impossibly hard- to the point of it hurting.
"More!" You whimpered, the feeling of Dabis dick on your back making you needier by the minute.
"More? Oh princess- can you handle more? You might break." Keigo mocked, thrusting never slowing.
"More more moremoremore" You whimpered out, moaning when Dabi thrust against your back.
Pulling out, Keigo told you to turn around. Dabi laid down, allowing you to straddle him. "Sit, princess. Sit on Daddy's dick." Keigo told you, making you sit on Dabis cock as Keigo pushed your torso forward so your ass was up.
"Still want more, angel?" Dabi asked, slowly pushing in and out of you.
"Yes! More daddy! More sir!" You screamed, needing to be full.
Without any more convincing, Keigo began pushing into your cunt along with Dabi, making your eyes wet with tears as you screamed from the pain and pleasure of being stuffed.
"Shit! Yes god I'm so full fuck!" You screamed, mind starting to go blank.
"Take our dicks angel, just like that, good girl." Dabi praised.
"You're our little slut huh, princess?" Keigo asked, pulling your hair so he could kiss your neck.
Sandwiched between the hottest men, your mind was a foggy mess as you came without warning.
Both men groaned as your walls clenched their dicks.
"D-dabi your dick feels good-" Keigo admitted, uncaring of what he was saying.
"Keep that up and I'm fucking you next, pretty boy." Dabi threatened.
"Gonna cu-cum!" Keigo moaned, fingers bruising your hips, feeling your cunt tighten again.
"Me too, shit-" Dabi agreed, thrusting harder against Keigos dick inside you.
"In!" Was all you could say before both men released inside of you and pulled out, knowing you must be in pain at this point.
You laid there, squirming from your own climax and the feeling of being so full. Dabi was below you still, and Keigo laid next to you.
Once everyone caught their breath, Keigo got up to get waters while Dabi picked you up and brought you to the bathroom. Keigo joined you both wordlessly as Dabi ran the bath and Kei handed you a water.
"Drink, princess. You did so great." Keigo affirmed.
You sat in the bath as it filled, Dabi sitting on the edge and Keigo getting in with you to help clean you off and relax you.
"Thank you- both." You finally muttered.
"No, thank you angel." Dabi said, hands in your hair. Keigo didn't say anything as his mind raced, wondering what this meant for him and you.
Once you finished cleaning up, you were wrapped in a towel by Dabi, who picked you up bridal style and began walking to his room.
Keigo stood in the bathroom doorway unsure of what to do.
"You comin, pretty boy?" Dabi asked, turning around slightly.
Keigo's face lit up as he jogged to catch up to you both.
Laying you down on the bed, Dabi looked up at Keigo and back down to you.
"Both." You muttered.
"Huh?" Keigo asked, confused.
"Wan' you both. Dont wanna pick. I get you both because I'm the princess angel, right?" You respond, matter-of-factly.
Dabi chuckles and looks to Keigo.
"I mean, fuck. What the harm there. I like you both." Keigo admits looking to Dabi.
"Lets all stay then. Us three." Dabi affirms, getting in bed on your right side, Keigo on the left.
"Ha- you admitted it~" To say to Keigo.
"You do like me. You have feeeeelings for me." You tease.
"Yeah no shit- have for a while, princess. You just made me come to terms with it tonight." Keigo confirmed.
"I win!" You say, yawning in the process.
"Shit, I win too." Dabi says, pulling you closer.
"Me too." Keigo agrees, cuddling up to the both of you.
Best outcome possible.
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Should’ve Known Better
Pairing: EB!Frank x Reader
Summary: You should have known better than to sleep with a friend.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Smut, FWB set-up, a little bit of toxic shit, angst
A/N: Frank got the most votes when I asked which other Seb character I should write for, so here it is! This is very personal to me lmfao it’s somewhat based on my own experience that really fucked me up a couple of years ago aksncajscna no but for real, stay away from the friends with benefits kind of relationship if you can’t keep shit purely sexual lmao also some guys are just fucking assholes even if they’re your friend lol
ALSO, I tagged those who are in my Everything Bucky Tag List. I’m not sure if I’ll write more Frank in the future too so I won’t be creating a separate tag list for him yet.
"Do you love me?"
It was a simple question that was supposed to make you think. Given your experiences and your personality in general, you were supposed to cringe and ignore it. Maybe even make a joke out of it, especially that it was Frank who was asking you this question.
He wasn't supposed to ask it too. He wasn't one to ask such thing, not especially with the relationship that the both of you have. It was clear from the get go that this was nothing serious.
So why was he asking it now?
And why did you respond to it right away, as if you knew your answer even before he asked?
"Come on, it'll be fun."
You should've said no. You should have known better.
"I'll make you feel good, you won't regret this."
It did feel good, you were going to give Frank that. Possibly the best, even. But the latter part? You weren't so sure. Were you regretting it? Honestly, no.
Maybe not yet.
You'd rather not think about it for now.
"What's there to lose? We know each other too much to develop feelings anyway, you said so yourself."
Oh there's plenty to lose. Maybe a decade's worth of platonic (was it really platonic from the beginning though?) friendship. Your self-esteem was on the line too, but you didn't know it yet. You'll get there though, whether you like it or not.
"I'm free next Friday, come over. Spend the night with me. What do you say?"
You should've said no. You should have known better.
"Next Friday. I'll see you, okay?"
You should've said no. You should have known better.
But you said yes because you didn't know any better.
That first night with Frank was something else. It was fun and he kept his promise to make you feel good. So, so good. You never thought that sex could be that fucking good. At least, not with your previous partners. Not that you had many in the first place.
But god, Frank knew what he was doing and he loved doing things to you. He loved the entire process of knowing your body, what you liked and what you loved. How you liked to be kissed and touched and fucked.
He studied your body like his fucking life depended on it and you let him. You let him own your body because you needed someone to. You needed to feel something, wanted to have a purpose even for just a short while, even if it meant being someone's fuck buddy.
You felt lost for the longest time, but as you laid on Frank's bed with his tongue lapping up your cunt, you actually felt like you belonged somewhere.
You weren't a booty call, definitely not. And when things escalated between the both of you, Frank was already single and had broken off with his recent girlfriend, Daphne. You weren't a doormat nor a side chick. Frank had been your friend for the longest time, one of your closest actually. He knew you the best and not just physically. Frank knew the darkest parts of you the same way you knew him like the back of your hand. He was the most open to you, he said so himself.
"I don't know what I'd do without you." he told you one time.
Frank wasn't afraid to show you his true colors; how he wasn't the kind to settle for one or how he would often end up with someone immature or toxic. He himself was toxic and for the most part, you tolerated him.
That was the mistake on your part.
You let him be himself, that's why you held a special place in his heart. Not even his past girlfriends could get rid of you. You were untouchable.
"Are you sure she's fine with us going out?" you asked Frank one time, as the both of you headed to the movies.
He scoffed, "Yeah, don't worry. I already told her you're my best friend. You're off limits." he chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside the cinema.
"You're fine." he reassured again, this time wrapping his arm around your shoulder and then cradling your head playfully.
Looking back, you sometimes ponder whether the friendship was really platonic. You were sure of it when the both of you first became friends; he was a couple of years older than you. You sort of looked up to him like an older brother for the first few years of your relationship. And he was very caring too, always looking out for you.
Your other friends were the first one to notice the closeness. They often told you that Frank seemed to have a thing for you. You brushed it off though, saying that it was impossible.
His girlfriend then was an acquaintance of yours. She was nice and wasn't bothered by how Frank was affectionate towards you.
Indeed, you were untouchable. You were the best friend after all.
"We fought again."
You rolled your eyes at Frank as he sat across from you at a local coffee shop near your place. It was your birthday and as always, you spent the most part of it with Frank.
It was like a tradition already, to celebrate your birthday with Frank first before you went out with your friends. Or even family. It was that kind of friendship.
"I'm sorry but who are we talking about again?" you joked.
Frank made a face, "Daphne." he responded. "I just told you about her like, two days ago."
You snickered, "I was kidding. But honestly though, you have to stop flirting with other girls. It's been really difficult for me to keep track of your record, Frank. And are you and Daphne even official?" you asked, taking a sip from your cold brew.
He rubbed his chin and shrugged, "Sorta. Well, we were official two weeks ago. Now though, I'm not so sure. Here's the thing, Daphne can be really..." he said, trying to search for the right words.
You hummed and shook your head, "Immature?" you said and mindlessly scrolled through your phone.
"You should really stop dating girls who are immature, Frank. I swear to god, this is like...I don't know, the fifth time you dated someone like her? Why don't you settle for someone who actually acts her age?" you blurted out.
Frank groaned and transferred to the seat next to you, his body facing yours and his hand landing on your thigh. You didn't mind, didn't think it was too touchy or intimate for someone who was in a relationship. It was pretty common for Frank to be this touchy with you anyway, you never paid much attention to it nor given it any malice.
"We fought because of you actually." Frank admitted with an apologetic smile.
Your head snapped towards him, a scowl etched on your face. "What did I do?!" you asked in defense.
"It was my fault. Daph saw your photo inside my wallet." he said.
"You should really throw away that photo. Jesus, why do you still have it anyway?" you complained.
Frank scoffed, "That's my favorite photo of you. I don't wanna get rid of it."
That was the last day that you considered your friendship with Frank platonic.
I miss u xoxo
Miss eating u out
Miss ur moans, wanna hear them again
You groaned at the continuous notifications that flooded your phone. While you were at work. After that first night with Frank, he had gotten extra clingy. No lies though, it felt nice to be wanted like this.
im free nxt Sat
Cant wait to see u, missed u a lot
dude, we were at the mall together just last wk
U really dont get attached do u?
Frowning at Frank's reply, you honestly didn't understand what he was implying.
what u mean?
Work kept you busy for the entire week, with Frank bombarding you with sweet texts. You've avoided being sweet with him, it felt wrong. You weren't an affectionate person but Frank was, it was sort of one-sided. It wasn't a big deal anyway.
No one from the rest of your friends knew what had become of your friendship with Frank. You just thought it wasn't something that should be revealed. It was like your and Frank's little secret. You had to admit, the thrill only made the sex better.
Whenever the both of you went out with other people, the tension was there and it was fun. It was fun trying to brush off the way Frank's hand would steal touches from your waist, or how he'd subtly squeeze your thigh. The looks you exchanged from across the room; how Frank's "fuck me" eyes were meant for you and only you.
Things like that made you feel a certain type of way. But you never dwelled on it, or at least, you thought you didn't.
"Yeah, fuck...just like that, baby."
Frank's fingers dug deeply into the skin of your ass as he guided your hips. You gripped onto the back of the couch as you bounced on his cock, head thrown back from pleasure as Frank suckled one of your nipples. You could feel each of his fingers pressing down against your skin, it's probably going to leave bruises again.
"Frank, shit. I'm close." you panted against the skin of his neck, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close.
Frank grunted and took your face in between his palms, forcing you to look at him as he began to thrust his hips upwards, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from you.
"Wanted to see you like this ever since." he breathed out, pressing his lips against your open mouth.
"Wanted you since we met, d'you know that?" he asked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so he could nibble on your throat.
You shook your head and gripped his shoulders, nails scratching at his skin as you continued to ride his cock, "God, Frank...so close." you moaned.
You felt Frank's lips curl into a smirk against your neck, his fingers gripping your hair to keep you in place as his other hand slipped in between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it to help you reach your climax.
Every single time he touched you, you felt like your entire body was on fire. You felt the most alive, the most free whenever Frank fucked you. Maybe because he was truly gifted in bed or maybe he just knew your body and how to make it sing.
Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at you whenever you fall apart for him. Like he only had eyes for you, like it was only you that he could see.
Sweaty bodies and hoarse voices, the smell of smoke and sex lingering in the air. It was such a familiar ambiance by now. You liked how the aftermath of fucking Frank was never awkward, if any, it was a comfortable experience with the both of you just talking casually about how each other's day went.
"So I'm talking to this girl..." Frank said, turning you around so he could spoon you. Oh, the irony of the intimacy and conversation.
"Where'd you meet this girl?" you asked.
"Tinder." Frank snorted before pressing a kiss on your nape. "No, but she's different. I don't know, there's something about her."
You merely hummed in response.
"Think I might ask her out."
The first sting. The first realization. The first denial.
You should've said no. You should've known better.
The art exhibit wasn't a flop, but you wouldn't call it a success either. When you got a call from the organizer asking whether they can include your paintings in the exhibit, you said yes instantly. What can you say? You were a struggling artist who was seeking validation.
But now that you stood in front of your works with barely ten people attending the one-day exhibit, you thought that this wasn't a validation. It felt like a wake up call that maybe, art wasn't your calling and that you should probably give up on your dream.
"These are amazing."
You were on the verge of breaking down when you heard his voice. Turning around, you were surprised to see Frank. He was nodding his head as he approached you, his eyes scanning each of your painting.
"What are you doing here? I thought you had work." you asked.
Frank gave you a face, "Did you really think I'd miss out on your first exhibit?" he said and pulled you into a warm embrace.
"I'm proud of you." he whispered before kissing the crown of your head.
One validation from Frank was all it took for the walls to crumble down. He was the one who had been there for you all along and that was why you completely trusted him.
Frank will never hurt you, he'll never bring you down.
Or so you thought.
"Do you love me?"
It was a question that was supposed to make you think. But you didn't, because even before Frank decided to ask you that, you already had your answer.
You knew your answer for the longest time now, but decided to lock it into a box that you kept in the deepest part of your heart. It remained there unbothered and almost forgotten, up until this point.
That's why it was so easy for you to respond to it without even batting an eye.
It was too late when you realized that you had just admitted that you were in love with Frank. But you felt like it was the right time for you to bring out the key to that box, open it and just set your truth free.
They said that the truth will set you free, but why does it feel like it only imprisoned you?
"Shit, I was kidding." Frank said, his face panicked and body stiff from your unexpected admission.
Before you could even say something, Frank let out a nervous laugh as he ran his hand through his locks. "Wow, I didn't...are you serious?" he asked again.
It took you everything to brush off the pain, "Yeah, but it's no big deal. Come on." you shook your head and forced out a breathy chuckle.
Frank heaved out a deep sigh, "Fuck, I was messing with you. Are you sure it's fine? I mean, would this change anything?" he asked.
You deadpanned, "No, Frank. It wouldn't change anything. Like I said, get over it. It's not like I'm in love with you. I just love you...if that makes sense? You're my friend." you explained, more like lied.
"Look, it's not like I'm unattracted to you. I like you, I like spending time with you. It's just that I sort of don't see myself committing to you."
It didn't sink in to you immediately, Frank's statement. You didn't pay it any mind because again, you knew Frank. He wasn't one to commit so that was fine, you understand where he was coming from. It's not like you were going to force yourself on him too. But then you accidentally glanced at his phone and saw the messages he'd been exchanging with a certain someone.
When r u coming home?
In a little while, Daph
That night, Frank's statement hit you like a ton of bricks but again, you chose to deny what you actually felt. It's fine.
You should've said no. You should've known better.
Those words rang in your ears on the day that you found out. Your body turned cold, your vision blurred and your head spun. You'd never experienced hurt and anger like this, the kind that consumed you.
The kind that made you realized and admit that fuck, you'd truly fallen for Frank only for him to break your heart.
It didn't help that you were having such a terrible day at work. And Frank was so sweet to ask you whether you wanted to meet up with him. Not for sex, but to talk. The sex came rarely recently and was replaced with wholesome trips to the grocery, shit like that.
You knew there was something special going on. Even after he told you that he didn't see himself being with you, there was something.
Apparently, that something was just an assumption. Because when you asked Frank to meet you up that night, he said he couldn't and needed to be somewhere. That he'd meet with you the next day instead, a promise.
But then you saw him post a photo of him and Daphne. And it made your blood boil.
u back together?
No. Not really, been trying to fix it but u know how it is.
if ur trying to fix it with her then im out, frank
Wait what? Hey, are u mad?
r u fucking serious? u knew i love u and u come here parading ur ex, what the fuck is that all abt?
Shit, hey. Look, let's talk later, okay? Im out, will txt u when Im free.
Frank didn't text you back for the rest of the day.
You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.
Were you regretting it? Yes. Sometimes.
You didn't know which hurt the most, the fact that Frank kept you in the dark while he was trying to patch things up with his ex, or that he considered you his best friend and still chose to break your heart.
He knew you the best, your relationship and trust issues and out of all the people, he really had to be the one to fuck you up the most. You trusted him so much, trusted him not to hurt you. Hell, if he doesn't want to commit then that's fine. But for him to treat you like a second option? Fuck that.
For him to confuse you with his actions, the intimacy...were all of those even real? All the times he came to your support when you had no one, when he was there for you on days you felt alone. What were those? He made you feel so fucking special, like it was possible to actually turn the friendship into something more than just fucking.
All this time you thought it was one-sided because you never actually showed Frank how much you meant to him the same way he did to you. Turned out that it was one-sided, but only because you were the only one who fell.
The following day, you received a voicemail from Frank. You pondered whether you were ready to listen to it but at the same time, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was pretty stupid, he fucked you up and there was no excuse for that. But the friendship you had with him had a strong hold on you.
"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. That was my mistake." he started off. "I thought that this was really just sex and having fun, but I want you to know that I like you. I really do, you're special to me. Please give me a chance to make things right. Daph and I...I want to end things with her. Please stay, I don't know what I'd do without you."
“I just didn’t expect that you’d end up falling for me, I mean shit. You know the real me, how fucked up I am when it comes to relationships. Just please...please stay?”
Did you stay? Sort of. But you kept your distance, didn't meet up with Frank after that and only responded to his texts occasionally. Did he end things with Daph?
He said he would but instead, they got back together.
It was fucking selfish of Frank to ask for you to stay only for him to get back together with his ex. It'd be better for him to just slap you in the face then.
Being told that he couldn't see himself committing to you but then going back with his ex was the cherry on top. God, if that didn't mess up with your self-worth.
You totally stopped talking to Frank, ignored his texts and calls. You stayed away from him, tried to get over him and eventually, you did. But you'd be lying if you said that he never left an effect on you. Because he did, Frank did a number on you and it would take you a long fucking time to completely recover from the damage he inflicted on you.
You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.
And that's okay, because there's nothing wrong with taking risks and ending up in heartbreak.
You live, you love and you learn.
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Fictional Happiness: 17
Jungkook had found his mate on accident- and unknowingly, also the one piece that had still been missing from his pack.
Tags/warnings: werewolf! AU if it wasn't obvious already lol, angst, romantic kook, kinda selfish kook though, shy!reader, anxiety, medication mention, therapy mention, mentions of past child neglect and emotional abuse, panic attacks, idol!bts, insecurities, bad habits, kind of tsundere! Jk, Impatient kook, alpha!kook, omega!Reader, omega!jimin, Alpha!Jin, Alpha!Namjoon, Alpha!Taehyung, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, swearing, smut in future chapters
Additional Chapter Warnings: Minor injury, worried pack, reader gets lost oops, heat talk
You remember vividly what had led to the situation you were in.
Playing hide and seek was fun, and being childish with jungkook was a whole lot of fun as well. What was not fun however was getting lost in an unfamiliar space with no phone or else to contact or look up where you were. Hell, considering the remote location you highly doubted you'd have had any signal anyways.
Well, that's not too bad. Just stay in one place and don't panic- eventually jungkook would be able to trace your steps back and find you. But then you'd heard something close by, probably only a deer of some sorts- but it had spooked you enough to send you running, tripping over a root on the ground before tumbling down a small creek, which is where you're now; with wet clothes, a scratched up arm, and a cut along the side of your wrist that seemed pretty deep. You can't check now however, having wrapped it in your shirt to contain the bleeding.
And also one look had been enough, thank you.
And while you could be safe to assume that the pack back at the campsite was probably calmly searching for you, you'd be highly mistaken- because it was a mess, distressed alphas and upset omega running around, while hoseok seemed to be a little lost on what to do. "Jungkook and I will try and trace back her steps. The sun is setting, we don't have time to come up with anything else." Yoongi says earnestly, jungkook simply nodding as his inner alpha whines distressed at the fact that his mate was out of reach.
He feels bad already- yoongi knows that, so he brings jungkook along simply to get him out of harms way of jimins anger about the situation. The omega could sometimes end up saying things he didn't really mean; but jungkook was too emotionally vulnerable to really understand that most of the time.
And he really didn't need them fighting right now.
"I can smell her." Jungkoom suddenly says, concentrated eyes looking around as he tries to locate where exactly you went. And it's you who calls out as you finally hear them talk, getting their attention as both climb down carefully to assess you.
"My God you gave us all a goddamn heart attack omega." Yoongi grumbles, although his voice is laced with relieve as he carefully takes your arm into his hands, moving it around to check. "We'll clean that properly back at camp. What's with this?" He asks, pointing to the wrapped up wrist.
"Dont know, cut it while falling down. It's not that bad but I didn't like looking at it.." you sat, as Yoongi nods before carefully unwrapping it, making Jungkook hiss as he sees the damage- instinctively moving closer to you to soothe your pain even though it's not that bad anymore than it was. A bit sensitive, sure. But maybe that was just exhaustion kicking in.
"Lets get you back. Everyone's loosing their shit." Yoongi says, getting up together with you and jungkook, who instantly picks you up to carry you.
His heart hurts knowing you've been hurt just as much as your wounds do. As a mate, he can feel a certain feeling similar to your pain; a hot sensation on his arm and wrist although they're both unharmed in his case. It's not the same, but its there- reminding him that he failed at keeping you safe. And it weighs down heavy on him, until you hold onto him a bit tighter from your spot on his back, leaning down to rest your head close to his shoulder. "Thanks for finding me jungkookie." You say, and it soothes his aching heart a little.
Once jimin spots you, he's off running, immediately checking up on you and worrying when he sees the harmless scratches on your arm, ushering Jungkook over to the van so you could get inside and cleaned up. "Lets never play around like that ever again." Jimin gently scolds, anger at Jungkook already forgotten at the fact that you're back and safe. Even the rest of the members can't help but check up equally as much, finally calming down now that the pack was whole again.
And everyone, including you, feels the bond that had been starting To grow a little stronger that night before everyone fell asleep.
In the morning, you're a bit hard to coax out of your bed, visibly torn between nesting and starting the day, only barely deciding the latter option. It sparks a certain conversation you didn't realize was needed- and would be a little uncomfortable.
"See if the main tent would be better to nest." Jimin gently proposes to you as they all eat. "Its gonna make it easier for us to be with you there, you know?" He says, and you nod after a moment.
"I don't.." you start, needing to carefully phrase your words. "I'm scared I might, you know, scare you off." You say, remembering Jungkooks reaction to your first drop involuntarily. You don't blame him at all for how hed reacted, long forgiven what had happened, but it still sits inside your bones. "So I don't know, maybe I should just go look up heat hotels-" you start, as jungkook instantly objects- but is beaten by Jin, since he still had to chew before he could speak.
"We won't force you to spend it with us if you don't want to- but if the only reasons you feel that way are because you feel like you might embarrass yourself or weird us out, then please know that that's unreasonable." He says calmly. "We're here to build a pack bond. And that means trust first and foremost." He tells you with a soft smile, as Hoseok nods.
"We're actually.. happy to see your first signs." He admits, making namjoon at his side nod. "It shows that you're starting to settle in, and I dont know about the rest but that really makes me proud." He says, as jimin smiles at hoj encouragingly.
"We promise we'll treat you as best as we can." He says, and you look down. "After all, we're about to be a pack." He muses, and you nod, before looking up with teary eyes.
"Okay." You say, accepting their offer finally, making everyone smile. "Thank you."
And jungkook can't help but pull you into his chest, happily holding you for a moment because; you've accepted the pack.
You've accepted him.
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So "He wondered if theyll meet again" dang how about Stu and Reader meeting again in the afterlife (or Dbd verse if youre familiar). Maybe some fluffy angst 👀👀👀👀👀👀
you always know where to hit me, dont you?? this is a pretty short one but i hope thats alright! i hope you enjoy!!
this is a semi continuation to the ending as well as stu's perspective (and the alternate ending lol) major tw for all three, please read warnings!
WORD COUNT: 784
WARNINGS: suicide mention, murder mention, guilt, implication of heaven and hell, they're kind of in purgatory?
Stu wakes up to the sound of carnival music. His head is killing him, the sounds of kids laughing and the chattering of the passersby not helping. He was on a bench outside the funhouse, a plate of funnel cake beside him. “Wha-?” When he looks down, he see’s that he’s wearing the ‘I’m Stupid’ shirt he had gotten at a carnival with you.
“Hey there, sleepy-head!” Stu turns and sees you walking up to him, a bright smile on your face, an ice cream cone in hand, ‘I’m With Stupid’ t-shirt on. You sit besides him, tossing your legs over his. “You’ve been passed out on the bench for the last few minutes.”
“Oh. Sorry,” He says, his heart hammering inside his chest. Everything that had happened came rushing back to him; the murders, the planning, your death, stu’s death. He shouldn’t be here. He should be in hell, tormented forever with the memory of what he did. But when you smile at him, he realizes that this might be worse than hell.
A reminder of what he had lost.
“No need to apologize. You feelin’ better?” He nods, looking away from you in an attempt to calm down. Maybe it was all a dream. A sick, disgusting, awful dream. “Stu? Baby?” You place your hand on his shoulder and he jumps, forcing out a laugh when you look at him with worry.
He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into him, something that feels unnatural now. “I’m all good, babe. Just dreamed something weird, I guess. Must’ve been the food.”
“What did you dream about?” You ask, licking your ice cream. He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you scoff, elbowing him slightly. You wait for him to speak.
He sighs, taking a bite of his food. “It was just… I did something to you. You know, not a good thing.” He watches your face carefully, unsure of if he should continue.
“That you killed me.”
You didn’t ask him, you said it. His eyebrows furrow and he watches as your face flashes with anger for just a second. What the fuck. “Uhm, what?” You roll your eyes, taking another bite of your ice cream. Stu looks around to see that the carnival was empty, save for you too, the colors more muted, the music distorted. “What the fuck?”
When he turns to look at you, your hand snakes around his waist, pulling him into you. “You killed me, baby. And then you died. It’s why we’re here.” Stu makes a noise of confusion, tears burning at his eyes as he snuggles into you more, breathing in your scent. “I’ve been here for a bit. Waiting.”
“Y/N… fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“I know you are, babe.” Your fingers tangle in his hair and you hold him as he cries. You’ve had plenty of time to deal with what happened, and the rest of the time has been looking over Stu. He was struggling, that much was certain, and when he had taken those pills you had been begging for him to stop. It had fallen on deaf ears. “You’re alright, I’m here.”
He sits up, sniffling, his eyes bloodshot. “You… I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. And now you’re fucking stuck here with me…”
“M’not stuck here, Stu. I could have left anytime I wanted.” You place a kiss on his cheek, grinning when he leans into your touch. “I saw how you were after… you dealt with enough hurt then, I don’t see the need to add on to it. C’mon, let’s go on a ride.” When you had walked past the bench and saw Stu on it, you knew that you were supposed to judge him. Forgive him if you’d like, or send him to hell. It was an easy decision.
You stand, holding your hand out for him and he takes it. He trails behind you as you lead him to the Ferris Wheel, people gradually beginning to show up again, the colors becoming more vibrant with each step. He could feel the guilt leaving his body the longer you held onto him.
The two of you step onto the Ferris Wheel cart, settling into each other's side. “Why did you forgive me?” His voice was quiet, nearly incomprehensible, and you sigh.
“I don’t know. I was mad, at first. Really mad. But seeing how you were after? It felt like you got beat down more than enough. I love you, and I always will.”
“I love you too.” He smiles, looking at you and leaning in. Your lips touch and the memories of what he did are gone. All he knows is you.
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maybe a wilbur x reader where they play with sidewalk chalk like they used to do when they were really young? honestly miss being a kid again ^^
silly little sunsets | wilbur soot x reader
oh my god this is the cutest ask ive ever seen. you are an angel.
gn!cc!reader x cc!wilbur
656 words, another short-ish one, im tired once again LOL.
tw- childhood (LOL)
also sorry if this is kind of bad and not super "chalk" centric, but i tried.
the similarly quiet and charming park had it's eyes set on the moon, the summer citrus of the sun shunning itself to the trees. the air fell cold, but not a winter cold, more of a late autumns vague yet timeless shiver down ones back.
A soft breeze rippled across the little pond, chilling the small ducklings who were huddling against their mother. a small pouch of colorful chalk sticks spilled across the bare pavement like the buckets of sanguine leaves littered across the lawn of the park.
y/n smiled, staring at the sunset. their coat cozied their body from the quietly boisterous winds, a pair of sweatpants hugging their legs.
"whats the chalk for, love?" wilbur raised his eyebrow, bending down and releasing y/ns hand as he picked up an orange piece of brand-new chalk.
"maybe if you had a brain, you could tell that we were going to use it."
wilbur spat a laugh. "okay, well what are we using it for?"
"drawing. i dont know. recently i just feel a little nostalgic. we drove past my primary school the other day and looking at the empty playground kind of made me sad."
"i know what you mean, growing up was no magical experience for me- yet i miss it all the time." he smiled, sitting himself on the ground and scratched the ground with the chalk. "maybe its all the work we're doing."
y/n sat next to him, groaning. "sometimes i just wanna quit. when i was younger i thought creating content and having a following would make me feel more fulfilled and purposeful, but all it is now is a job to me. like if i don't stream or post a video- i'll lose it all."
"take a break. sometimes that makes them like you more." he smiled. "beg you on twitter to go live. thats the stuff that keeps me going when i'm feeling unmotivated.
"of course you don't have to continue making content, and if this really isn't your true passion," he continued, "you should let yourself explore."
y/n sighed, drawing a smiley face with the purple chalk that stained their hand. "this is my passion, but sometimes it just feels like a job."
"well then it's decided. we both take a little break and spend time being a little silly and childish."
y/n laughed quietly and began to draw a rainbow on the black, rocky pavement.
"and see? i drew us. i'm feeling like a kid already!" wilbur smiled adding the finishing touch to his drawing by writing WG + (y/i) underneath. despite his drawing being two stick figures holding hands with hearts above their heads, nothing could stop the grin rising on their face.
y/n leaned down into his lap, staring up at his face. "how are you so perfect? you just know what to do no matter what."
"it's not my perfectness, its yours. you are the perfect person." he brushed his hand through their hair, twirling the strands in his lengthy fingers. "and i will do anything to make you feel like you are that perfect person i see everyday when i wake up."
"you are the somehow the most romantic but ridiculous guy i have ever met.." they laughed, getting up from his lap.
wilbur placed a hand on their cheek and kissed their nose. "and that is why you love me soooo so much. i'm so quirky and unpredictable."
"..." y/n put a hand over their mouth trying not to laugh. they caved and let out a small but loud laugh. "were breaking up. i can not date a guy who describes himself as quirky."
"oh, you'd never. even if i had called myself an unbelievably random and spoopy potato."
"yeah, i wouldnt break up with you. i'd kill you.
wilbur smiled, placing a kiss on their lips. "im so excited for the day that i marry you."
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i have very many thoughts ... au where naoya and yn r fucking around but its very hush yn is very nerdy and religious and naoya well ... right anyways so they fuck like crazy and naoya always does it in places where they are about to get caught and it drives her crazy but then she also has a thing for geto (imagine hes not a villain lol). she’s literally in loveeee with geto bc hes so prim and proper and faithful 😔 but naoya starts going crazy over her making pushs so she knows shes his and it becomes this Huge miscommunication bc thats always the peek. right and massive hate fuck and id imagine by accident naoya kisses her (they didnt before to keep a barrier like makes no sense but whatever) and is super possessive saying “ill get you pregnant if you dont stop talking about him”. smooth brained rn share ur thoughts pls
# 🔞 public fucking, religious! reader, breeding kink, masturbation, hate fucking, implied cheating, possessive naoya
ANONNN IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER THIS, but anyways *fans self* i need to touch some grass after this
oh gosh good girl reader....or at least you look like a good girl. you’re known for how well behaved and prim and proper you are. always keeping your head down low, voice never growing too loud and just the perfect ideal woman who also is firm on their beliefs and goes to church every sunday as you go down on your knees to worship — who would ever think that you’re actually capable of fooling around with naoya zen’in of all people?
everyone knows naoya likes corrupting people, and you’re just another one of those fools who fell for his charms.
and he likes putting you in trouble too. by trouble, he literally does not care the slightest bit about being caught. in fact, he even entertains the idea of it. pulls you aside after a prayer to fuck you in the ladies’, his large palm flat on your mouth while he fucks you greedily from behind, calling you all sorts of names that were far too sinful for such a sacred place. and if that wasn’t enough, he makes sure he stuffs you full of his cum before he pushes you out the door, urging you to keep it all in or else.
you really don’t want to find out what might happen next.
but it drives you crazy, absolutely crazy that you spend many nights thinking of sinful things with your fingers trailing past the band of your underwear.
it was wrong, filthy, immoral — a young lady like you should know better than this. but he was too charming, too vile, too good at being bad that you simply could not resist such temptation.
he makes you feel dirty.
and the worst part? you loved it.
until you met geto. geto was the best man, the ideal one that you wanted to marry. he was formal, sweet, kind, polite, and gentlemanly — he was everything naoya was not. his kindness and patience to court you, to gain the approval of your hand in marriage made you fall in love with him, and thoughts of naoya are pushed back before you realized it. and when naoya found out that you were no longer his (not that you ever were, you were but a cocksleeve to him) he was beyond infuriated.
stealing you away from your lover, he reminds you of the graveness of your sins for messing around with such a despicable man like him. and aww, you hate him?
if you did, then why were you clenching down on him so hard, begging him to go faster and fuck into you deeper when seconds ago you wrre trying to push him away, claiming that this was wrong?
he calls bullshit.
to prove his point, he tugs at your chin roughly to press a kiss at your open lips, shocking you both since he’d long made it clear kissing was too intimate, and he didn’t need intimacy after making it painfully clear he was only after your pussy and nothing else. soon, you’re coming undone around him, coating his cock with your juices with his name spilling from open-mouthed kisses.
gosh, you were so good at making him feel good that of course he would be addicted to you, until —
“naoya, stop. geto might find out.”
you feel the slightest pressure begin to tighten down your airway, fiery eyes meeting yours with such an intensity that you actually burn. and maybe you already burned in hell a long time ago, for you’ve chosen to bite on the forbidden apple that crushed any chances of redemption.
“talk about him again,” he warns in a low voice, teeth dragging down your neck, the grazing of his teeth bringing a chill down your spine. upon feeling you shiver, naoya hardens even more inside you. “and i’ll get you pregnant. that way, you really will be mine, and i don’t plan on giving you away just to anyone.”
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hellolololo!¡! so i recently saw this video where their
s/o goes on to omegle and the other person from omegle like goes “hi ur cute” or “u have snap?” and then their boyfriend just enters the frame,, can u do that to todobakudeku separately :3
if u dont understand u can check this out 😭 https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJdEqc7V/ tyy ❤️❤️
“ur kinda cute” on omegle
character(s) : todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku (bnha)
part two — part three
legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned
headcanon type : fluff, crack — ‘x reader’
note(s) : i love these types of requests 🤩 so i plan on making 3 parts with this (oh and don’t worry, i’ll finish the other tiktok prank series i have going on at the moment)
also, there’s no proofread on this so if there’s any typos or mistakes, sorry! i’ll be editing them in the morning
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okay so, the entire tiktok idea was planned— but the part where shouto came in surely wasn’t staged
so, being a curious young person— you wanted to make a tiktok, where you went on omegle just to speak to people for fun
and inside of your head, you’re kinda thinking that “this is dumb, omg im going to get flashed on there.” also while you were setting up your laptop
but you just used the appropriate tags and !! you were set off for an adventure
you set your phone aside, and you filmed most of the experience— cutting out the not so interesting encounters out of your tiktok
and then came on a dude, who had a,, unique reaction. he didn’t seem all that fishy— until he asked you for your snap (your social medias, essentially)
“you’re kinda cute, y’know. how did i not see you before?”
you shake your head, “oh no no! i appreciate your compliment, but i’m very much taken!” your mind immediately flashing back to the image of your icyhot boyfriend
“nahh you’re lying! i don’t see any dude back there”
oh,, and that was because shouto was out getting snacks 🧎 “no really dude, i appreciate it! i’m very much taken and being disloyal is out of the question!”
this dude just kept insisting and insisting, and due to the struggle— you weren’t able to hear the door knob jiggle
it seemed to be that his advances came to an end, and your lover made an entrance— a mop of red and white peaked out from the door frame
and the dude literally got scared and ended the conversation 💀 because you really weren’t lying!
you also figured that it was time to end your omegle shenanigans, and finish the tiktok— because your boyfriend was already there “hi love, who were you talking to?”
you closed your laptop, and offered him a smile “i was on omegle for a tiktok! i’m glad you’re back.” you discard your phone, wrapping your arms around his torso (and also making sure you don’t delete the draft)
shouto doesn’t say a lot, but he immediately accepts your touch, setting the groceries aside.
he doesn’t question the fact that you were on omegle because well,, he had to get used to your shenanigans on tiktok SOMEHOW
a few hours later, you posted the tiktok— and almost immediately, the tiktok gains a lot of attention
“i love how your boyfriend drove the last dude away 💀💀” “man the last dude didn’t take the hint 🗿” “your boyfriend indirectly protected you! we need more guys like him.”
you snicker at the comments, which ultimately gathered shouto’s attention “what’s up, love?”
you show him the tiktok, “the tiktok did well.” he’ll comment calmly, but shouto’s lowkey MAD ?? that a dude had the audacity. but he’s just glad that you’re happy just maybe,, don’t go on omegle anymore 💀
“love— next time, let me in on your tiktoks.” he says, running a thumb along your cheek lightly. because he was actually quite entertained, putting everything aside
as if bakugou katsuki would let you go on OMEGLE, a place that’s known for having the sketchiest people to ever exist— but make it virtual
but being with you made him realize that well,, if you want to do something, you’ll go through lengths just to do it.
even the great bakugou katsuki can’t really stop you. whatever makes you happy— but oh, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t highly discourage it
which lead you to go on omegle for a tiktok in the other room, while bakugou exercised in the very next room.
when you told him that you wanted to film a tiktok, bakugou only shrugged— “don’t do overly dumb shit.” was what he only told you and he left the door open too
you then set up your phone and laptop, applied the appropriate tags— and went off to make your tiktok
you only filmed the interesting encounters, and the people you met on there were very diverse in personality and just,, in general.
after the 4th encounter, then came a rather interesting dude. he didn’t seem all that ordinary but he wasn’t spectacular. he was just nice
and the conversation was rather normal— until he started asking for your socials “putting everything aside, do you have social media? you’re really cute.”
you reject immediately, “oh no, i appreciate your words but— i already have a boyfriend.”
you just have to hope that he noticed bakugou walking back and forth with equipment, but with his next words— that doesn’t seem to be the case
“i didn’t see anyone back there, a simple no would’ve been sufficient instead.” uh oh
“no really, i—” and before things escalated, katsuki’s head peaked through the door frame, freshly out of the shower “are you almost done, idiot?”
the dude literally looked behind you, and thought “oh shit, their boyfriend is bakugou fucking katsuki.” because bakugou is famous for,, multiple different reasons
the dude’s camera shakes in terror, “oh uhm,, it was nice meeting you!” not long before he dips from of the conversation, never to be seen again.
closing your laptop— you end the tiktok while bursting into laughter, and this action just confused katsuki ever further. he heard you speaking to someone, and when he looked, the person was nowhere to be seen
“what are you laughing at??”
“nothing katsuki, i was laughing at the tiktok i just made.”
then— you figured that it would be best to tell katsuki now that you were on omegle (long story short, he wasn’t pleased)
he scolded you that you shouldn’t be on omegle, but let’s be honest, he couldn’t stay mad at you— so he just cuddles the frustration away
when you upload the tiktok the following hours, it blows up pretty quickly—with comments like “LOL IS THAT BAKUGOU KATSUKI??” “he had guts until he saw bakugou katsuki 💀” “tbh i’d be scared too”
and when you report the news the katsuki, he smirks— “as he should be.”
at this point, izuku is very much used to your shenanigans on tiktok. he’s very supportive of whatever you do all in all
but, about omegle,,, yeah,, as much as he trusts you— he does not trust omegle. he’s aware that it’s a shady place, and he doesn’t advise that you do go on that website bc he cares
so when you brought up the tiktok idea, he proposed that he’d be there, right beside you just to monitor if anyone’s being weird :)
and that’s great! because you also wanted to ask if he wanted to be a reoccuring guest in your tiktok— and of course, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he opposed?
he helps you set up your laptop and phone— all of that sort of stuff, and then you guys were off to make an interesting tiktok
oh, but izuku did apply the appropriate tags because he didn’t want you to see odd things he was secretly nervous but,, you were very ethusiastic, so he was too.
the first several people were interesting in their own way— especially with their reactions to your boyfriend appearing on screen
usually, they’d back off with, and comment on how cute your boyfriend is— wishing the both of you well before calmly leaving to meet new people,
that was how it was, until you met this person in particular.
he sounded very,, egotistical— i wouldn’t say that because you’ve just met the dude, but he acted like everyone wanted him or it sounded like that
then he says, “you definitely have a phone number, right? you’re cute, just my type.” wkdksmd this is awkward since izuku’s right beside you, but he’s just outside of the frame
then, izuku pops out of the frame— in all his cute ass glory, he gives a small wave to the not so pleased stranger
“please, that’s your boyfriend?” he scoffs, “with those arms, he looks like he could be your little brother! now let me ask again—”
it’s really weird?? because have you seen izuku’s gainz?? and this dude’s audacity is extraordinary.
but little did this guy know, he’s looking at midoriya izuku— and,, you’ve seen his performance in the sports festival.
the dude takes another glance at your boyfriend, who’s sitting there right beside you— and he realizes who he was talking to
“oh shit, you’re—” and before the both of you could realize it, he nopes out of the conversation.
after that encounter, you burst into a fit of laughter— the look on izuku’s face being priceless. “you should’ve seen your reaction!”
“haha, i guess he knew who i was,” he says bashfully, cheeks warming up. because it registered in his mind that people actually knew who he was. “can you,, upload the tiktok later? i want to hug you— i mean! if that’s fine.”
of course it’s fine! you oblige, and give him all the hugs he could ever need
after cuddling with izuku, you do upload the tiktok— and an hour later, your tiktok notifications blow up
the tiktok all in all gathered 1M views, 780K likes, and over 1,500 comments— most of them saying stuff like
“your boyfriend’s reaction was so cute?? i know he looked like he was going to punch him through the screen but 👀” “last dude was just not it.” “LMAO HE REALLY TRIED IT” “is your boyfriend IZUKU MIDORIYA??”
when you excitingly showed him the tiktok’s results, he was certainly pleased— because most of the comments were positive, and also because the tiktok’s results made you happy
“i’m glad that it did well!” he’ll sigh in relief, pressing a kiss against your temple, let’s just not go on there ever again
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likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission
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headcanons about ateez’s favourite place to cum? 👀
Fucking anywhere man. Just a messy messy boy. Wants you covered. Like after every round he chooses a different place and doesn't clean you up till the end of the night so by the end of it your complete covered in his cum and he fuckin loves it. Your gonna be sticky, its gonna be uncomfortable for a lil bit, but trust me he makes it worth your while.
inside you. Lol. And not only for that reason ya nasty. Like yes it also involves the breeding kink, but its also just in general its neater. Like he can watch it spill put of you and push it back in with his fingers to satisfythat deep burning desire to breed you, but at the end of the day all you need to do is take a shower when your done and and your all fixed up. No laundry needed.
hes the kind of guy where he pulls put but just barely. He's not cumming inside you but all over yoru thighs ass and hole. Its just a pretty sight to him as we all know, yunho thigh man. He is also a bit possessive so seeing your most sensitive parts completely cover with him has him reeling.
in your mouth. Its like. Weirdly intimate. When you look up at him while you swallow he would fucking melt. Probably blushes really fucking hard every time but he loves it. Open your mouth and show him and he goes fuck feral. Its like, you made that happen. For the others places its just sorta cumming on you, but in your mouth you *do* something about it and he loves it. Also, will make out with you immediately afterwards so he can taste himself on your tounge, which is once again weirdly intimate.
On your face. Wants you to use his cum like a fucking moisturizer. After he does he spreads in around your face with his hands. He know that most people don't like having cum on their face so he doesn't do it very much but his guilty pleasure will always be seeing your fucked out face all sticky with his cum. Especially if your pouting at him because you don't like the feeling. He thinks its the cutest thing in the God damn world. That being said he will clean you up pretty quickly with lots of kisses to make up for it.
on ur tummy. Its just kinda sweet. Like I cant imagine he would care to much where he cums, but he likes it for your sake were its easier to clean up and leaves u looking all pretty. He can watch you panting and glistening but he knows its not supper uncomfortable for you and he loves that. I imagine he gets really giggly after sex and can't help but laugh sweetly at your fucked out face and cum covered body because your just so God damn pretty.
On your ass lol. He loves hitting it from behind as we all fucking know. He loves the booty. And as a general rule wooyoung likes it messy, so although I am saying on your butt, what i mean in anywhere from you upper thighs to your mid back. Also, he will lick it off you. Like full stripes of how own cum up off your ass. Yes that will Segway into eating you out for being so good for him. By the 3nd of the night you will be more covered in saliva than cum.
I dont think he thinks about it to much, so like 9 times out of 10 its inside you, but if he were to actually think about his favorite place it would probably be in your mouth. Though for a very different reason from yeosang. First off, it is more neat in general but he likes watching it dribble down your chin as he rides out his own high and you just sit there and take it. He likes how its the best of both worlds as it is has less clean up but is still pretty lewd. Basically he is a realist and isn't going to sacrifice function over fun.
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a/n: lol hiii so its 3am and i kind of don’t like this maybe but i had written too much by time i decided that and the graphic is fucking cute so anywhere here it is i hope u dont hate it :)
*also this is important: this is our universe, but the pandemic doesn’t exist here lol so dwd is a thing but corona is not*
what it is: she’s based on miss swift’s ‘tis the damn season
word count: 27k
let me know what you think :)
December 23, 2020
Harry pulled on his boots next to the front door as Gemma sat on the sofa scrolling through her phone.
“You’re not coming?” He asked.
“I have that secret Santa thing first, remember? Isla’s on her way to get me now.”
Harry nodded at the mention of her best friend before standing up and slipping his arms through his slouchy, grey coat. “Right, well, I’m leaving. See you in a bit, then.” Harry said as he walked to the door.
“Bye.” Gemma said, only half paying attention as Harry grabbed the keys off the small hook in the entry way.
It was Christmas Eve eve, and he was on his way to the local pub. Fresh snow covered the ground of his hometown and clung to the lampposts and mailboxes of each house on the street. The driveway was haphazardly shoveled, causing Harry to step carefully around small clusters of snow and over patches of ice.
Once he shut the door, he blew warmth on his hands as he rubbed them together, cursing himself for not bringing gloves. He turned on the ignition and cranked the heat before putting his seatbelt on and tapping on the holiday music channel. As he backed out of the driveway, he sang along to White Christmas and tried to ignore the weird nervous feeling in his stomach.
Every year on the 23rd, everyone from his school days met at the pub in the form of a makeshift Christmas party. This was because everyone was back in town, everyone was feeling nostalgic, and everyone loved to pretend that they got along with everyone else. It was that weird holiday phenomenon…the one that didn’t solely exist in Christmas movies or in books as catalysts for romances. It was real—and Harry almost hated it.
As much has he loved seeing everyone, and hearing about what they were up to, he always found it a bit odd that people who would never get along or be friends at any other point in the year would be sitting at the bar together, smiles on their faces and throwing back a pint. He also didn’t like that he had to pretend to give a shit about the people he knew would be talking about him the minute he went back to London, or LA, or wherever it was he had to go. He still went every year because he did enjoy seeing his old mates and the classmates he did like. The pub was also extremely festive this time of year.
Out of all of his school friends, he was looking forward to seeing Alfie the most, who he had essentially grown up with. They were attached at the hip all through primary school and most of secondary school, up until Harry left for the X Factor. Honestly, he was really the only person that Harry was excited to see. He didn’t hate anyone, nor did he really dislike anyone, but these nights often came with a lot of questions about his life and when he was home he wanted to focus on being home and relaxing, not answering a million questions even though he knew that whoever was asking meant well.
Harry was kind of looking forward to seeing you though. He knew you would be there because you were every year. Every Christmas Eve eve, he would see you for the first time at the pub and you always looked better than you did the year before. That being said, you never really seemed to change. Your hair was always the same length, your style only slightly elevated with each passing year, you wore your make up the same (a simple brown wash of color on your eye and a bold lip), all gold jewelry all the time, and the same slightly infuriating demeanor. You had had the same job for years, working at his mum’s favorite restaurant in the center of town, while you freelanced as a copyeditor—sometimes as a copywriter, but rarely because you hated it even though it paid more. You still lived with your mom and sister, in the same room that hadn’t been redecorated since you were seventeen. He knew that before he went back to London, he would surely see you in the black sweater with big white daisies on it…a sweater you’ve had for a little over five years and pretty much lived in. Harry found comfort in the fact that you never really changed, but he always found that you looked better than you had the year before.
Harry slowly pulled into a parking spot in front of the pub and then shut off the ignition. He looked down and pulled at his sweater and hoped his outfit was alright. Some people showed up in party dresses and slacks, while others showed up in jeans and sweatshirts—he was never sure whether he was over or underdressed. He was wearing classic docs, which he had gotten for Christmas the year before, a pair of worn black jeans that he had rolled up at the ankle so they hovered right where his boots landed on his shins, and his blue Mon Petit sweater (the one with the baby chick hatching out of an egg), with a plain white t-shirt underneath for the sake of layering.
He reveled in the warmth of the car for a moment longer before pushing the door open and shivering as he stepped out into the cold. He shuffled quickly, but carefully to the big wooden door at the front, just catching it before it closed behind a couple.
The pub was crowded with voices; they were layered over one another and mixed in with what seemed to be an endless echo of laughter. The entire pub was bathed in a glow-y, golden light which drenched the wooden bar, tables, and walls. Christmas lights were strung up around the perimeter of the room as well as around the bar. The wooden beams that ran across the ceiling were wrapped in red shimmering garland, as well as garland made of greenery which was speckled with golden pine cones and red berries. Ornaments also hung from the beams, which were surely hooked onto the garland, in colors of gold, red, and green; some were covered in glitter and others had intricate designs.
Among the bottles adorning the shelves on the back of the bar were tiny, fake Christmas trees covered in fake snow, as well as little gnomes in red and green hats. Wreaths were hung on each wall, and all the usual pictures had been swapped out for portraits of Santa, landscapes of the North Pole, or the interior of his workshop. An Elf on the Shelf was wrapped around an open bottle of gin and tiny Santa hats were popped onto the tops of every handle on the beer tap.
Harry smiled at how lively and festive the whole scene was as he moved towards the middle of the bar, where he spotted Alfie. Harry clapped a hand on the brunette’s back. “Hey, mate!”
Alfie jumped slightly since he hadn’t seen Harry approach him, but smiled when he realized who it was. He turned instantly and pulled him into a huge hug. “Harry! S’about time! Been wondering when you would show up.”
Harry chuckled as he pulled away. He waved to the bartender Seb and ordered himself a pint before turning back to Alfie.
“How was L.A? How did the movie go? Done yet?” He asked as he took a sip from his large glass.
“S’good—s’warm. The film’s still going, actually. I’ve got to go back in the new year for a few more weeks, but it’s really good. A lot of fun.” Harry handed Seb his card over the bar and took his beer. “How’s teaching? Still like it?”
Alfie smiled. “Most days, yeah. I was thinking about moving up and teaching older kids, but I spent a week with my niece, who’s thirteen—“ Alfie shook his head. “Absolutely not. Five year old’s don’t have attitude problems—or god complexes. And if they do, at least they’re cute.”
Harry laughed and nodded in agreement.
Alfie taught at the primary school they had attended when they were younger and he thoroughly loved it. When they were in their teens, Alfie had decided he was going to be a teacher and had never wavered on that choice, nor had he ever shown a single sign of regret. Harry was always slightly jealous of him for always being so sure of himself, always so comfortable in his decisions and so content with staying in one place and doing one thing.
While Harry was in the middle of answering a question Alfie asked about the movie, he spotted you across the room talking to a group of people his sister’s age. He tried not to trip over his words as he looked you up and down. You were wearing a pair of black, straight leg jeans; the hem of which fell over your old, beat up docs. Over the slightly oversized, white poplin shirt you were wearing, was an oversized powder blue sweater vest that had three ornate, stoned buttons down the front. You looked simple, but edgy—and really pretty.
He cleared his throat and tried to pull his eyes away from you as he finished answering Alfie’s question, but was unsuccessful. Thankfully, his friend didn’t notice his eyes darting from his face to where you stood several feet away every few seconds. He couldn’t help himself; Harry hadn’t seen you in a year—and you looked good. He was also afraid of losing you in the sea of familiar faces, which was probably unlikely due to the color of your sweater.
Harry spotted two people get up from the table adjacent to where you stood with the group and tapped Alfie’s arm. “Wanna grab a seat, mate?”
Alfie nodded and Harry lead the way. You were standing at a hightop with your back towards the table where Alfie and Harry sat. Harry chose the seat that allowed him to see you completely, while Alfie sat to his left, against the wall. As the two friends engaged in a conversation about Alfie’s students, Harry attempted to focus, but couldn’t help but watch your every move. He wanted to talk to you, but couldn’t bring himself to go up to you after how things were left the last time.
This time last year, he didn’t exactly leave for London on a good foot—he actually didn’t tell you he was leaving at all, let alone say goodbye. It was a major mistake on his part—he knew that now—but at the time it was justified by his anger.
The night before he decided to leave, you called him an egotistical asshole—sure, you laughed as you said it, but it wasn’t a lighthearted laugh. Sure, maybe he had made a comment about how you always sounded so jealous that he had gotten out of Holmes Chapel, but he didn’t mean it in the way you took it—or at least he didn’t think he did.
Harry watched you walk towards the bar with an empty glass and wondered if he would actually get the chance to talk to you at all while he was there. You were stubborn and often held out in situations likes that, even if you weren’t exactly in the right and he was sure that you would ignore him the entire holiday—more so than you normally did.
He watched the bar, not wanting to miss you when you came back. When he saw the blue of your sweater peek through a group of guys, he sat up a little straighter while trying to look as casual as he possibly could—like he hadn’t even realized you were there—but he was watching you, begging silently for you to look at him.
When your eyes finally caught his, he smiled, but your look was steely and cold and, out of some odd fear, he immediately looked away.
Fine, he thought, we’ll just pretend the other doesn’t exist. I can do that. Easy.
He was resigned to this new plan, until Alfie caught sight of you.
“(Y/N)!” He called with his hands wrapped around his mouth in order to be sure you heard him.
You turned quickly and smiled when your eyes landed on Alfie. You came to stand at the corner of their table and adjusted your glass in your hands. “Alfie! Hey, how are you?”
“I’m great! You’re good, yeah?” He asked.
You nodded a few times. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s great.” Your eyes slid over to Harry and you nodded politely. “Hi, Harry.”
Harry waved sheepishly, confused at how your eyes could now look so warm when you had just stared at him as if he was a complete stranger.
“I saw your sister doing some shopping earlier.” Alfie said. “Is she coming?”
“Yeah, Isla’s coming. Just after some secret santa thing she’s got.”
“Gemma’s at that too.” Harry spoke up.
You looked at him as if he was an idiot. Obviously your sisters were at the same party…they had been best friends since they were fifteen.
“Uh,” Harry scratched the back of his neck. “How’s the restaurant?” He asked, assuming that was safe conversation. It would allow a manageable amount of small talk.
“I...wouldn’t know. I don’t work there anymore.” You took a sip from your glass.
“Oh?” Harry didn’t know what to say and figured it would be extremely rude to ask if you were fired.
“She’s in London now, mate.” Alfie explained.
Harry didn’t fail to notice the smirk that appeared on your face. He felt his heart sink. “You live in London?”
You nodded. “Yeah, a friend from university got me a job at a literary agency. I’m only an assistant, but it’s less stressful than freelancing.”
“That’s great.” Harry said, at a loss for any other words.
He wanted to ask why you hadn’t called or texted him. He wanted to ask when you moved, wanted to piece together whether or not it was before he went to L.A to shoot the movie, if it was when he was still home in London, between the shoot for the Golden video and the movie—he really just wanted to know why you hadn’t called him. You two were friends, after all, weren’t you?
Suddenly, a girl from your year was beside you and tugging on your sleeve. It was Kate—a pretty blond Harry swore he was in love with when he was fifteen, even though he barely ever spoke to her.
“Will’s here.” Kate’s brown eyes were slightly wide and Harry could see the concern on her face.
Harry’s brow furrowed and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t care.”
Kate looked at you in disbelief.
“Really, I don’t care.” You said as you looked at Alfie, who also looked as though he thought you were lying.
Kate followed your line of sight and finally noticed the two of them sitting there. “Hey, Harry! How is everything? Having fun in L.A, yeah?” Her smile was bright as she pushed her short hair behind her ear. She looked exactly the same as she did when they were teenagers: same long bob, same sense of style, same smile, but now there was a small diamond ring on her finger.
“It was great. Really warm.” Harry pointed to the hand that rested on your arm, just above the bend in your elbow. “Congratulations. Sean, yeah?”
Kate’s smile brightened at the mention of the guy she had been with since sixth form. “Thank you. Yeah, he’s…over there somewhere with the boys.” Harry nodded as she motioned back over her shoulder.
There was a quick beat of silence, which fell into awkwardness for a second, before Kate turned her attention back on you. “Do you want to go and hide in the bathroom?”
You rolled your eyes playfully and laughed lightly. “No! Kate, it’s fine. I’m an adult. Let’s just get back to our table and pretend he’s not here.”
“Okay, but if you want to hide, we can.”
You shook your head head with a smile before turning back to Harry and Alfie. “Bye, see you later.”
The second your back was turned, Harry turned to Alfie. “Will?”
“Yeah. Will Thorne. Remember him? He’s a bit older than us. Gem’s age, I think.”
“Dated, yeah. For a bit before she moved, actually. Then he dumped her.”
“She doesn’t seem too broken up about it.” Harry observed—and you didn’t. You seemed completely indifferent to whether or not that guy was there, a guy Harry barely remembered.
“No, but (Y/N) never really does.” Alfie shrugged. “She’s not real…warm, you know?”
Harry nodded and took a sip from his beer, even though he didn’t know. You had always been warm to him—barely, but he knew you weren’t as cold as Alfie thought you were.
Once you and Kate got back to your small group, she wouldn’t shut up about how good Harry looked—and while she was right, it was still fucking annoying. Every time he came home, everyone who wasn’t close to him pretended to be cool about it, but then wouldn’t stop talking about him for weeks.
You took a long sip from your glass and tuned out their fawning while your eyes scanned the room for Will. It wasn’t that you cared, but you hadn’t seen him since you came home that weekend and he basically told you to fuck off—okay, maybe he didn’t say it quite like that, but that’s how it felt. You felt an odd sense of relief when you didn’t see him—and then a familiar hand came down on your shoulder.
When you turned your head, there was the familiar head of brown hair, and the slightly indifferent brown eyes that you had once thought were warm and welcoming. Will sent you a smile and squeezed your shoulder before dropping his hand.
“Hey, (Y/N). How are ya?” He asked.
“You look good. How’s the London job?” He waved to Kate who was pressed against your back, ready to pounce at the tiniest sign of him being rude.
“Yeah? That’s good. I’ve moved to a different firm, actually.”
“I know.” He was talking to you as if you hadn’t dated for five months and it was pissing you off. You were together when he moved contracting firms—you were the one who had told him to do it because it offered more money.
“Yeah, it’s been going well, actually.”
You exhaled through your nose and tried to hide your annoyance. Will couldn’t take the hint that you didn’t want to talk to him, or hear about the job you told him to get, or worse, hear about Amy.
“Is your new girlfriend with you?” The judgement was clear in Kat’s voice and you wanted to pinch her. You were trying to avoid the topic of her entirely, not wanting to make it seem as if you cared because you didn’t—but Kate asking made it seem as if you did.
Whatever you had with Will had ended three months ago and you were completely fine. Frankly, you were over him—you didn’t really even like him as a person and you weren’t sure if you ever really did.
As he said something to Kate about his new girlfriend Amy, you turned and looked over your shoulder and managed to catch Harry watching you. He was now surrounded by a group of guys he used to hang around before he left. They were all smiling and laughing at something someone had said, but Harry’s eyes were clearly on you. You felt your cheeks heat up but you didn’t look away—not until Will’s question pulled you back to the group.
“I just said that, you know, everyone who leaves here and comes back thinks they’re special, better than the rest of us townies. Harry…now you.”
He was trying to rile you up, and thanks to the two pints you had, it was working.
“Harry doesn’t think he’s better than anyone.” You said. “If he did, he wouldn’t be here, hanging out with all of you. I would try sounding a little less bitter, Will. It’s very unbecoming.”
Kate’s brows shot up in surprise and the other girls at the table let out small giggles or noises of approval. You dragged your pint to the edge of the wooden high top and pulled it off, before turning around and walking away from him.
Not knowing where to go, you went to the bar and climbed up one of the free leather stools. You looked up at the ceiling and admired all the decorations, eyes scanning over the glittery foliage and sparkling pine cones.
Without having to look, you knew Harry was the one who had climbed onto the stool next to you. His cologne had given it away—it was the same one he had been wearing for years…and he was the only person you knew who would wear a sweater with a baby chick on it, which you could see out of the corner of your eye.
You sighed and didn’t greet him, nor did he make an effort to greet you.
Seb wandered over and placed a shot in front of you. “Will’s a prick.”
You smiled in thanks and then furrowed your brow when you saw a smile dancing on his face.
Seb pointed between you and Harry. “Two of you match. How sweet.”
You looked over at Harry and frowned when you noticed that Seb was right. Your sweaters were the exact same color blue. As he started to walk away, you threw back the shot—tequila—and tried not to make a face.
“So, Will, huh?”
“No.” You said without looking at him.
“Seems like your type.”
“I see we’re starting with the insults early this year.”
“S’not an insult, just an observation.”
You laughed silently and put your glass back on the table after taking a sip. “Not sure how you can make an observation like that when you’re only here once a year.”
“More than once a year.” He said as he brought his own pint to his lips.
“Sorry—how can you make an observation when you only see me once a year.” You were satisfied when he was quiet.
“You know…I was seeing somebody else too before I went to L.A.”
He shrugged. “I’m just…letting you know.”
“If I wanted to know, I would’ve asked.”
Harry cleared his throat. “About last year—“
“How ‘bout you come over later and we call it even, yeah?”
“Staying at your mum’s?”
“Where else would I be?”
Your house was only a few streets away from Harry’s; it was blue and a little smaller than his. White lights were strung along the roof and draped over the bushes that lined the front of the house. Harry smiled when he saw the half-assed light job on the Norway Spruce your family had planted when you were younger. It had always been your job to put the lights on…and every year they were a mess.
Harry walked around the back of the house and stopped when he was under your window. He shook is head, almost in disbelief that the two of you were still doing this, before he grabbed the ladder you had the courtesy to leave out for him. He placed it quietly against your house and began to climb.
He knocked softly on your window and, when you pulled open the curtains, motioned for you to hurry up—he was absolutely freezing. You shoved the window open and helped him climb through.
“S’really quiet.” He whispered once he was fully in your room and pulling off his jacket.
“Mum and Isla are asleep.”
Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief. “And you still made me climb through your window?”
You shrugged and plopped down on your polka-dotted comforter. “More fun that way.”
“Whatever.” Harry mumbled before moving forward and quickly putting his lips on yours.
Harry continued to move his lips against yours as you pushed yourself back further and laid down. He hovered over you and tried not to whimper the way he wanted to when you dipped your hands under his layers and ran them over his skin. He bit your lip and slipped his tongue in when you parted them, kissing you hard.
He didn’t stop you when you tugged both his sweater and t-shirt up his body and took over for you when you couldn’t get it any higher. Before he moved back over you, he pulled your vest off, quickly undid the buttons of your top and pushed it open to reveal a very familiar bra.
Harry dragged his fingers down your sides, admiring the body he could admit that he missed. You whined, frustrated that he wasn’t back on top of you and tugged at the belt loop of his jeans. He dropped back down and placed a hard kiss to your lips before moving to trail a few along your jaw and then your neck. His hands moved over your breasts and then under your back so he could pull you closer to him.
You pushed your hands against his chest, causing him to loosen his grip on you and then pushed him off of you and over so he was lying on his back. Before he could argue, you climbed on top of him and pulled your shirt the rest of the way off.
Once it was on the floor, you kissed him and tried to take control while his hands were planted firmly on your thighs, his fingers digging harshly into the denim. When you ground your hips against his, let moaned into your mouth. He brought one hand up to massage your breast as you continued the movement of your hips.
You twisted your left arm behind you and with one flick, managed to undo the hook of your bra. The straps fell down your shoulders and Harry groaned softly when he saw your bare chest. He placed his hands on your ass and pushed you up higher so that he could take one of your nipples into his mouth. You dropped your lips to his hair in order to muffle your soft moans.
When you inhaled sharply from how sensitive your nipple had gotten, he moved to the other one and tried to stop his hips from moving each time he heard you. You ran your fingers through his hair and stopped at the back oh his head and held him to your chest, not wanting the sensation to end.
When he nipped at the small bud with his teeth, you pulled away slightly and he placed a kiss to your chest. You moved down and began to kiss him again while pulling softly at his hair, causing him to whine.
You kissed his jaw, not minding the way his stubble was rough against your lips, then dragged your tongue down his neck. When you located the spot that was particularly sensitive for him, you sucked—but not too hard, knowing he would be seeing a lot of his family over the next few days. He groaned quietly and dug his fingers into your side.
You placed your hands on the bed at either side of him and started moving further down. As you went, you placed kisses across his chest, down his stomach and then pushed yourself up to sit on your knees when you got to the waistband of his jeans.
Harry lifted himself up onto his elbows and watched as you took on the annoying task of taking off his boots. When you turned back around, he smirked. You were on your knees between his legs, eyes bright, your chest completely on display. Seeing you like that was one of his favorite parts about this time of year.
You ignored his gaze and unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper. You tugged down both the denim and his boxer briefs. Harry lifted his hips so you could pull them down. He maneuvered his legs so that you could pull them off completely. After you had tossed them on the floor, you scooted down and motioned for him to sit up a little more, so you could have more room to lay on your stomach.
He had been hard since you asked him to meet you at yours and you knew that. He wasn’t embarrassed by it either. It was you—his being turned on by you was a given and there was never any reason to be embarrassed around you. This had been going on for too long for any of that.
You propped your chin on your hand, your elbow sinking into the soft comforter, as you took his length in the other. Your eyes were locked on his as you dragged your hand up and down, collecting precum each time you reached his tip. His chest rose and fell slowly as he watched you, his breathing slightly strained.
You moved the hand that was holding your chin down and, still using your elbow to hold you up, began to massage his balls, which caused his hips to buck. The moan that left his lips was slightly louder, and you knew that if his volume increased any further, you would have to shush him.
As you played with him, you watched his eyes flutter closed and his cheeks grow pink. When you got bored and decided you wanted more, you let go of him and moved closer to him—close enough where the tip of him could touch your lips.
When Harry saw you get ready, he moved his hand to the back of your head and held onto your hair, wanting to stop any pieces from getting in your way. Slowly, without looking at him, you took his cock into your mouth and moaned at the familiar feeling.
“Fuck, babe.” Harry sighed. You didn’t bat an eye at the pet name that only ever came out when the two of you were in positions like this.
You sucked his cock slowly, making sure to hollow out your cheeks each time you moved up and followed your mouth with your hand. Each time you reached his tip, you flicked your tongue against the underside of his head, knowing it was a sensitive spot for him.
“Fucking hell.” He moaned softly as his grip on your hair tightened and his hips began to buck into your mouth.
You allowed the movement of his hips and even stopped when you reached the base of his cock so he could thrust himself into the back of your throat.
Spit dripped from your mouth as you pulled yourself off of him after he went a little too far. Before he could ask you if you were okay, your mouth was wrapped around him again and your fingertips were digging into his inner thigh. You moved a little faster this time and moaned when Harry bucked his hips so he could hit the back of your throat each time you went down.
You could tell him from the sound of his breathing and his strained groans that if you continued, he wouldn’t be able to hold it together.
“Shit.” He said breathlessly as he pulled you off of him. “C’mere.”
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and stood on your knees. He grabbed your hand to pull you so you were straddling him, but you didn’t rest yourself on his hips since you were still in your jeans.
He gripped your waist with one hand and placed the other on the back of your neck. He pulled you down and kissed you, moving his tongue over yours and biting at your lip softly.
As he kissed you, you began to unbutton your jeans, but Harry shooed your hands away and took over when he realized what you were doing. Once the zipper was down, he wrapped his arms around you tightly and flipped the two of you over so you were on your back. He hovered over you as he began kissing you again while you shoved your jeans off your hips.
“Someone’s excited.” He mumbled against your lips.
“Not excited…just a little desperate.”
“Been a while?” Harry smirked.
“Don’t really know anyone in London—so, yeah.”
He ignored the small pang of hurt in his chest and stood on his knees so he could take off your jeans. His eyes searched your face as he did so; he wasn’t really sure what he was looking for, or what he even expected to find. All he saw was a needy furrow in your brow and darkened eyes.
Harry pulled your jeans off your legs and his smirk returned when you turned over onto your stomach. He knew this was one of your favorite positions—you didn’t think it was intimate, but Harry thought just the opposite. He couldn’t see you, but he could feel your entire body beneath his.
He reached down and moved his fingers through your folds, cursing when he felt how soaked you were. He pushed a finger in and you whimpered.
“I want you.”
“I know, babe. ‘Ve got to get you ready first.” He pushed another finger in and the whimper became a whine.
“Fuck.” You sighed. “I’m ready.” Harry ignored you and continued to move his fingers in and out of you. “Fuck, Harry. I’m ready. Please.”
Harry pulled his fingers out and placed his knees on either side of your legs. He fell forwards and held himself up with his left hand as his right lined his tip up with your center.
He pushed himself in and you moaned. He dropped his his chest onto your back, but held up some of his weight on his forearms which were on either side of your head, his right hand in your hair.
Harry fucked you slowly and muffled his groans by placing kisses on your shoulder and your neck. You were holding onto his left arm with your left hand, your nails digging into the spot right above his elbow as he pushed his hips into you.
“Fuck.” It came out strained when you lifted your hips ever so slightly and pushed your ass into him, giving him more access and a better angle.
When the headboard began to shake and tap against the wall, Harry stopped while still inside of you. He stood on his knees and pulled you up with him so you were on your hands and knees.
Harry gripped onto your hips tightly with one hand and held onto the headboard with the other as he began moving in and out of you again. You started to rock back into him each time he thrusted forward, forcing him to bottom out inside of you. You gasped each time it happened and Harry moaned desperately.
He wanted to make you come, but the only way he could was if he let go of the headboard…which could lead to someone waking up and Harry being mortified.
When you released a needy whine, Harry decided that making you come was worth getting caught.
He let go of the headboard and, without stopping his thrusts, leaned forward slightly and wrapped his arm around your front so he could trace circles around your clit,
“Fuck, Harry.” Your head dropped forward and your hips started to buck into Harry’s fingers, making it just a little bit harder for him to continue fucking you, but he didn’t mind.
He moved his free hand along the skin of your back. “Go down for me, babe.”
Knowing exactly what he wanted, you let your arms fold under you so that your ass was in the air and your cheek was pressed into the soft comforter.
Harry pushed into you harder as his finger still played with your clit, causing you to fist the fabric beneath you. You let out a loud, strangled groan into the comforter to muffle it as your lower belly tightened, signaling that you were almost there.
“Holy…fuck.” Harry groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.
He felt your hips twitch against his fingers and your legs start to shake. His body followed yours as you collapsed onto your stomach. Harry kept his hand moving between your legs, despite you trying to close them and let his full weight fall onto you.
“Fuck, fuck…oh, my god..” You cried as you entire body began to shake.
Harry bit onto your shoulder and let out a choked groan as his own orgasm began to build. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm and kept his fingers moving over your clit.
When you squeezed your hand under your body and grabbed his wrist to stop his movements, he knew you had finished and removed his hand.
He gripped your hips with both hands and dropped his forehead onto your head as his thrusts began to get lazy.
“Fuck, I wanna come.” He mumbled.
You lifted your left hand and reached back so tangle your fingers in his slightly sweaty curls. When he felt your nails against his scalp, he let out a strangled moan and pulled out of you quickly, finishing himself on your ass.
Harry’s breath was slightly ragged when he stood up onto his knees and climbed off your bed.
“Towel’s in the laundry basket.” You said, sprawled out on your stomach.
Harry walked over and pulled the worn pink towel from the top and cleaned himself off as he walked back over to you. You laid there motionless, both tired and still a little drunk, as Harry cleaned you off as best as he could in your position.
Just as you turned over, Harry’s phone began to ring from where it was stuffed into his jacket pocket on your floor. He bent down and pulled it out, a small furrow forming in his brow.
“It’s Gemma.” He announced quietly before answering it.
“Hey, where are you? When I got to the pub, Alf said you already left, but you’re not home.”
Harry looked at you where you still laid on the bed, eyes watching him.
“Uh…yeah. I went to get some chips with a few other guys. I’m actually on my way now.”
“Okay, just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead. That’d really ruin Christmas.” Harry joined in on Gemma’s laugh.
After exchanging a quick goodbye, Harry hung up and dropped his phone on the bed. He started pulling his clothes on as you went to the back of your bedroom door and pulled on your old fluffy robe.
As Harry pulled on his jacket, he looked at you where you stood with your hand on the door knob.
He smirked. “Not gonna make me go out the window?”
You rolled your eyes. “You barely made it up. I won’t have your broken neck on my conscious. Now, c’mon—and be quiet.”
Harry followed you out and tried to be as quiet as he could. He stepped lightly on each creaky step, trying to stop the heavy boots from making the stairs whine too loudly.
He finally felt himself relax once the two of you were crossing your living room towards the front door.
You unlocked the door and pulled it open slowly before stepping out of the way to let Harry out. He turned around to face you once he was on the step outside.
“See you Saturday?” He asked.
Harry’s heart warmed when he heard the words and nodded. Before he could help himself, he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, love.”
When he opened the front door of his mum’s house, Gemma waved at him from her spot on the sofa.
“Have fun?” She asked.
Harry smiled. “Yeah, a lot of fun. You?”
“Yeah. Sucks that Isla and I missed you and (Y/N).” Harry didn’t say anything. “She was there, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah, she was. We didn’t talk much though.” Harry cleared his throat. “You didn’t tell me she moved to London.”
“Why would I?” Gemma had a look of what seemed to be confusion on her face.
Harry shrugged, because she was right. Why would she go out of her way to tell Harry that you had moved. As far as your families were concerned, the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances. Your relationship started and ended with your older sisters being best friends.
“When did she move?”
“September. I helped her move her stuff in with Isla, actually. Well, just her boxes. She had no furniture. Isla said she still doesn’t have any.” Gemma laughed lightheartedly. “Isla told her that if she wanted to make friends she was going to have to buy a sofa.”
Harry laughed along with her, but it wasn’t genuine. You had known he was in London and you still didn’t bother to let him know that you were there too.
December 26, 2020
When you pulled into the church’s back parking lot, Harry’s car was already sitting there. You pulled into a spot two away from his and turned off your dad’s old Volkswagen.
It rained the day before, but the snow was still piled around the perimeter of the parking lot and up behind your old primary school which was on the other side of the lot. The two of you were the only ones there, which was expected since it was the middle of the afternoon on Boxing Day.
The door squeaked as you pushed it open and climbed out. You turned around to find Harry leaning against his SUV, hands crossed over his chest, waiting for you.
“Yours or mine?” He asked as he dropped his arms.
“We did yours last year.”
“But mine’s bigger.”
“Whatever.” You grumbled, knowing that arguing with him would be useless.
Harry smiled as you turned around and pulled open the car door again. You bent over the middle console in order to get the wrapped present that was nestled on the passenger seat. When you turned back around with the gift, Harry was looking at you and smirking. Knowing he had been staring at your ass, you rolled your eyes and walked towards him.
Somehow, the gift exchange on Boxing Day had become somewhat of a tradition—the secret gift exchange in the parking lot the two of you used to make out in before Harry left to do the whole music thing.
It had started five years ago—and you were the one to start it. For whatever reason, he wouldn’t replace the extremely worn Chuck Taylors he seemed to wear every where, no matter the amount of tiny holes they had…even though he had more than enough money to replace them. So you had surprised him with a new pair in that very spot; you had been exchanging gifts ever since.
Harry held the backseat door open for you and you climbed in and slid all the way in to the other side. He climbed in next to you and closed the door before rubbing his hands to rewarm them since he wasn’t wearing gloves. You were sat facing him, your right foot on the floor and your left folded under you. Harry sat facing you with his left foot on the floor and his right leg bent on the seat in front of him.
“I wanna go first.” He said as he pulled a slightly crumpled envelope from the pocket of his green coat.
You took it and opened it. The card was green, with a picture of a red Christmas jumper on the front, which was adorned with a Christmas tree that said, ’Tis the Season for Silly Jumpers—it was a very Harry card. The inside read: To (Y/N); Love, H with a tiny heart. Underneath that, he taped a picture of an emerald green sofa, just big enough for two people.
You looked up at him with your brow furrowed. “A sofa? Or a picture of a sofa?”
Harry laughed. “A sofa, obviously.”
“You did not get me a sofa.” You said in disbelief. “You didn’t even know I moved—how—why?”
“I wasn’t really sure what to get you this year, actually. Well, I did buy you something else but then the other day I learned about the whole “you moved to London and didn’t tell me” thing and Gem said you’ve been there for a few months now but that Isla said you didn’t have a sofa—and you always said you would have a green one when you finally got your own place so—“ He motioned to the card in your hands. “Green sofa.”
“It’s mid-century too.” He continued. “I hope you still like that kind of thing.”
“I do.” You tried to stop your smile before it became embarrassingly big. “Thank you, Harry.” You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, which caught him by surprise.
You huffed when you leaned back out of his personal space. “Mine seems so stupid now.” You shook your head as you picked up the box from where it sat on the middle console.
Harry took it from your hands with an encouraging smile. “Stop, you know you give the best presents.”
And you did. Everything you gave him was always so thoughtful. Last year, you had given him a sweater of yours he had spent his entire visit the year before complimenting.
When he had gotten back to London, he texted you and asked where you got it and was utterly disappointed when you said it was thrifted. So last year, you wrapped up the grandpa sweater and handed it to him in the back of the same car. He wore it all the time. It was one of his favorite things—and it was one of the most thoughtful gifts he had ever gotten because you had given him something of yours.
“I just—I’ve seen you wear stuff like it so I thought you would like it but if you don’t I’m sure I can take it back—“
“(Y/N), relax.” Harry said as he tore open the paper. “You freak out every year and every year it’s great.”
“Fine.” You sighed and sat back. He pulled off the top of the box as you watched with nervous eyes.
His eyes lit up when he saw the front of the t-shirt and his grin grew wider and wider as he pulled it out.
It was a vintage t-shirt from the 80s you had found at one of the many thrift shops in London. It was white and on it was a turtle walking upright, a grumpy look on his face looking back at the small frog sitting on his shell; the frog was looking at the turtle, with an equally grumpy expression. The text was next to the turtle’s head and read: Get off my…CASE. It was cute and punny and vintage—it was Harry.
“Oh, my fucking god. I love it!” He said through his smile.
“You do? Like, actually?” You asked apprehensively.
“It’s perfect. I can’t wait to wear it.”
You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. “Good.”
“Thank you.” Harry leaned over and kissed you quickly.
When he tried to pull away, you grabbed onto the front of his sweater and pulled him back to you. You leaned back so that your back was against the door and your head rested against the window, while Harry leaned forward and crawled on top of you. His right hand was on your jaw, while his left was pressed against the cool window behind you, holding himself up.
Your hand stayed gripping onto his sweater as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He held your jaw tightly and groaned when you brushed your left hand over the bulge in his pants.
He pulled away, just far enough where his lips hovered over yours. When you tried to go on for another kiss, he moved back so you couldn’t reach his lips.
“You know, I haven’t gotten to taste you yet.”
Your brow furrowed and a breathy whimper was released at the thought of Harry between your thighs.
“Can I?” He asked as his hand slid up your tights clad thigh.
“Please.” It was soft, but audible.
Harry backed up and sat back on his knee so that he could pull your tights down. He motioned for you to lay down a little more as he pulled them down to your ankles so that you could let your knees fall open for him. He slipped under your legs so that your knees were over his shoulders and your feet were on his back before lifting up the hem of your dress.
He brushed his finger over your clit and you sighed in anticipation, hoping that he wouldn’t waste any time—and he didn’t. He pulled your panties to the side and licked your folds slowly. Your back arched as a gasp left your lips. Harry did it again, eliciting the same response before focusing solely on your clit.
Your fingers tangled in his hair as he flicked his tongue over the small bud quickly, knowing just how much pressure you liked. When you moaned, he closed his lips around the mound and sucked softly. You tugged harder on his hair and he sucked again, causing you to roll your hips into his mouth.
“Fuck,” You gasped when he pushed two fingers inside of you. The sounds that left you were both needy and deep and he curled his fingers in and out. Your chest was rising and falling quickly, and it was no surprise that your orgasm had started building so quickly.
Harry knew your body better than anyone else; he knew exactly what you liked, how you liked it, and when. He brushed his fingers against your walls in time with the small circles he licked over your clit. Your back was starting to hurt from the position you were in and your neck was growing sore from the angle it was at, but you closed your eyes and focused on the way he was touching you and how good it felt.
Your belly continued to tighten as you pulled at his hair and let curses mingle with his name in the back of his car. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” You whispered as he added more pressure and sped up the movement of his tongue.
As your legs began to shake and your body writhed in the small space it occupied, Harry kept the pace of his mouth and fingers.
“Oh, my God.” You groaned as your hips bucked against his mouth and you hit the peak of your orgasm, your hips twitching as he continued to lick you while you came down.
You let out a breath as your brushed a hand through his hair and he placed a delicate kiss to your clit. Harry pulled his fingers out of you and slipped from underneath your legs before moving up to kiss you. He kissed the corner of your mouth and you dropped your hand down to cup his length. He let out a soft moan before pulling your hand away.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
“I wanted to go for a drive.”
“So?” You asked, not understanding why that meant you couldn’t make him feel as good as he made you feel.
“I’ve got to be at my Nan’s in an hour.” He smiled. “I rather not show up in a mess.”
You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and tried to stifle your laugh. “Right.”
You pulled your hand away and sat back in the seat.
As you pulled your tights back up, Harry asked, “So, a drive?”
You wanted to say yes. It was one of your favorite things to do. Before you moved to London, you went on a drive every single Sunday, right before your mum put the roast on the table. It gave you the complete alone time you craved, while also giving you the opportunity to listen to music in a way you couldn’t when you were simply sitting in your room. You couldn’t exactly describe the feeling—but it was different.
“Sure, let me just get my stuff.”
When Harry nodded, you pushed open the door and hopped out of the car. You quickly walked towards yours and grabbed the small crossbody you had taken home with you and made sure to lock the doors before returning to Harry’s massive, black car.
While you were getting your stuff, he had moved to the driver’s seat and when you settled in the passenger seat, he pressed the button for the aux.
“Connect your phone.” He said it so nonchalantly that you didn’t believe him. “Open your bluetooth and we’ll set it up.”
You opened the settings app. “Oh, this is new.”
“What do you mean?” He asked as he tapped the “New Phone” button.
“You never let me pick the music.” You clicked on the device he pointed at.
“That’s not true.”
“It is.” You said as a small chime rang throughout the car, signaling that your phone had successfully been connected.
“Just play something.” Harry said as he buckled his seatbelt.
You did the same as he pulled out of the spot. As he drove towards the parking lots exit, you clicked on one of your playlists.
When he stopped at the stop sign at its exit, he glanced at the name and raised an eyebrow. “Songs you want to scream?”
“You’re a music person. You should get it.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’re a fraud.” Your response completely wiped the smirk from his face as he pulled onto the main road.
As Guilty Conscious by 070 Shake sounded from the speakers, Harry said, “I want to apologize for last year.”
“What?” You asked, too distracted by the song to really listen to him.
“I want to apologize for what I said last year—for leaving like that.”
“You really don’t have to.” You said as if it was nothing—because it wasn’t.
“But I do. It was wrong.”
“But you don’t. It happens every year, Harry. It’s been happening since we were in school. We hookup, or fuck, or whatever, and then we fight—every single year—and then the next year we pretend like it didn’t happen and do it all over again.”
“That can’t be right.” He said as he made a left.
“It is and it’s fine. It makes the fact that you leave every year easier.”
“S’not fine. I don’t want you to think I don’t care about you or anything like that.”
“I know you do.”
“You do?” Harry tried to stop from glancing at you as he drove through a busy area of town—it was only busy because it was where several small boutiques were located who were having some Boxing Day sales.
“I don’t know…I guess…I just—we wouldn’t be doing this every year, like, buying each other gifts, if we didn’t care about each other at least a little bit, right?”
The truth was, as cold and indifferent towards Harry as you pretended to be, you cared about him a lot—maybe even too much. You couldn’t help it; even though, most of the year, the two of you pretended the other didn’t exist while your sisters were almost inseparable. It was just your dynamic—it always had been.
Harry hadn’t exactly been cool in school, but he was in a band which seemed to make up for how dorky he looked. You, on the other hand, had started a book club with the librarian—and also ran around with the “punk” kids who smoked behind the gym (yes, your experience was that cliche). You didn’t really fit in anywhere and so a lot of people just didn’t bother with you, especially Harry and his friends.
Sure, the two of you had each other’s numbers in case of emergencies or in case someone’s sister’s phone died, but it’s not like the two of you texted or hung out. Harry fit in with one or two groups of people and you floated—and as much as he liked to pretend that he hadn’t cared what anyone else thought, he did. He especially cared what the girls he liked thought; Kate being one of them. It was still weird to him that the two of you ended up being friends after school, especially after all she said about you.
Harry hadn’t really bothered with you at all (besides the indifferent “hellos” and pity walks home from school that his mum made him give you) until one very specific night.
One night, when the two of you were fifteen, he texted you, which was odd since that was something reserved for sister emergencies. He asked if you could pick him up from a party you weren’t invited to and he sounded angry.
You were almost sixteen, which meant you technically couldn’t drive the car on your own—but your sister was out and your mum and dad were already asleep. You said no—and he begged.
After at least five minutes of him pleading, promising you endless meal deals and walks home from wherever, you sighed and told him that yes, he for sure owed you.
The house he was at was only a few blocks away and you drove slowly—extremely slowly. You were thankful that it was a bit past midnight and no one was out to see you driving 16 km/h.
When you had pulled up in front of the house, he was already standing out front with his hands shoved into his jean pockets and pissed off look on his face. Once he got into the car, he went on a rant about how some kid Ian had called him talentless, spewed some shit about battle of the bands and had even kissed the girl he liked—he told you all of this without you asking. And as he told the story, he hiccuped between every sentence. When the hiccups seemed to happen closer and closer together, you panicked and pulled into the church’s back parking lot, afraid he was going to blow chunks all over your mum’s car.
You left the car running, but got out and walked around the passenger side. You pulled open his door. “C’mon, get out.”
He complained as you tried to tug him out of the car, but he needed some fresh air—as fresh as the air could get in the middle of July during a particularly humid summer.
You had managed to pull him out and stood there in your cotton shorts and t-shirt as he paced back and forth in front of you. He took deep breaths in between hiccups and kept telling you that you should’ve gone to the party. After reminding him for the fifth time that you weren’t invited, you gave up and just let him chastise you for not going.
You weren’t exactly sure how it happened, but somehow you had ended up with your back against the car and his lips on yours. He kissed you for a long time—without tongue—and pulled away with a lopsided grin on his face…before turning around and throwing up.
Then it just kept happening—not the vomiting, but the kissing. That parking lot had become the place you went after parties, football games, failed dates on Valentine’s day, breaks from Uni and when he was home from being wherever he was. Neither of you ever really questioned it or stopped it. Coincidentally, the two of you always ended up single during that time of year. It always seemed to just work out. It always seemed to be the two of you, in your hometown, picking up where you left off.
“Yeah, I guess we do care about one another.” Harry said. “Well, I care about you, at least.”
You cleared your throat. “I care about you too.” It sounded as if it was hard for you to admit, and in a lot of ways it was. Harry was always leaving, always forgetting about you until it was convenient again and he had nothing to do but you. Caring about someone who was so in and out of your life was slightly hurtful, but you would never tell him that.
“What was that?” He teased as he leaned over to you a little bit.
You whacked him on the shoulder lightly. “Don’t make me say it again.”
The two of you laughed before falling into a comfortable silence.
You had been singing along to one of the LEON tracks on the playlist when Harry spoke up again.
“I’m sorry for everything I’ve said.”
He shifted in his seat while the two of you were stopped at a red light. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve said—every shitty thing I’ve ever said. I obviously can’t remember it all, but I don’t like the idea that I hurt you like that. I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.”
You tried to hide your surprise. Usually, you and Harry just said hurtful things and then swept them under the rug and pretended you hadn’t. Neither one of you had every really taken responsibility for momentarily hurting the other and it never bothered you. You had definitely said some hurtful things as well. It just seemed to be the nature of your relationship; almost as if there was an understanding that everything was said in the heat of the moment or that you two had been doing whatever for so long that none of what you said really mattered. You cared enough about one another to let it go and repeat the cycle the next year. The real reason you didn’t mind it was that it made him leaving hurt less--and you had a gut feeling that it was the same for him. It was easier to leave in anger than leave something good; and every year you were reminded that the both of you sucked at goodbyes.
You shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too, I guess, but you really didn’t have to apologize.”
“But I wanted to.” Harry reached over and squeezed your thigh before making a U-turn and heading back in the direction of your spot.
December 29, 2020
You wandered around the local Tesco’s with a basket tucked into your elbow. So far, it was filled with pasta, a jar of pesto, chicken breast and a bottle of white wine. You were in the sweets isle looking for a Terry’s Chocolate Orange when you saw a familiar frame out of the corner of your eye.
When you turned and confirmed that it was Harry, you wandered the few feet over to him.
“Hey.” You said in order to announce yourself.
The surprise on his face faded into a smile. “Hey. How are you?”
“Good.” You nodded. The two of you hadn’t spoken since your drive, except for the two texts sent asking what the other one was up to. Harry spent the night before with his mom watching movies, and the day before that you were with your friends, catching up and drinking wine.
It was always weird seeing one another in public. It was easier in the parking lot or in the safety of someone’s room. One would think that after years of having to exist in the same spaces, the two of you would’ve gotten the hang of social interaction—but alas, it was always the same level of awkward.
“Good.” He nodded back before looking down and gesturing to your basket. “Dinner?”
“Yeah.” You smiled before peering into his. Your brow furrowed when you saw the flour, the sugar, the ground ginger and pack of unsalted butter. “What are you up to?”
“Gem and I are gonna bake gingerbread cookies.”
He shrugged. “I had to take a later flight so we didn’t get it do it before like we usually do. Figured better late than never.”
“That’s fun.” You said—and you meant it. Before your dad passed, your family spent the day before Christmas Eve baking and decorating cookies, but it was your dad’s thing. So when he died, so did the tradition.
A short silence passed between the two of you before Harry dipped his hand into your basket and pulled the wine bottle out. “Plan on sharing this with anyone?”
“How ‘bout you come over then? We can drink some wine and make some cookies. It’ll be fun.”
You weren’t really sure where the invitation was coming from, since he had never extended anything like it before—but that was the tip of the iceberg in regard to your hesitation.
“You don’t think it would be weird?” You asked.
“No. Why would it be weird?”
“Gem and your mum…they don’t really know we hangout.”
“So that’s what we’re calling it?”
You shoved his shoulder and leveled him with a serious look.
“We hangout sometimes.” He said.
“Yeah, alone and for very specific reasons.”
“C’mon. Come over. It’ll be fun and you’ve got nothing else to do.”
You bit your lip and thought it over for a moment. You had a multitude of reasons to say no, but none of them were convincing enough. “Okay.”
When you and Harry walked through the front door of his house, Gemma’s voice could be heard from the kitchen singing along to Christmas music.
“Did you get the stuff?” She called.
When you and Harry rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, you saw Gemma try and hide the surprise on her face. You felt your cheeks heat slightly and waved to her awkwardly.
It wasn’t as if Gemma and you didn’t really know one another—you grew up with her around all the time and in a lot of ways, she felt like a second big sister, the same way Harry felt Isla was. Gemma and Isla helped you move into your London apartment, Gemma had invited you out on more than one occasion and even came over a few times to have drinks with you.
It was weird because you had come in with Harry. Neither of you really knew how much your sisters knew. You were sure that Isla had her suspicions since she often made little comments, probably hoping to annoy you to the point where you confessed something or confirmed whatever suspicions she had, but you were too strong for that. She also wasn’t very good at pushing your buttons. She tended to be a people pleaser and so at the first sign that she was making you angry, she would back off.
If Gemma knew what you and Harry had been doing for years, she wasn’t showing it on her face. “(Y/N)! Hey!” She smiled.
“Found her wandering Tesco all sad. This is my charity work for the season.” Harry chuckled as he said it and you shoved him forwards slightly while Gemma’s jaw dropped open.
“Harry, that’s so rude.” She said.
“Don’t act like you didn’t beg me to come. If anything, I’m the one doing the charity work.”
“You begged her?” Gemma was obviously entertained by your bickering.
“Would never.” Harry said as he tried to hide his smile.
You shook your head and shrugged off your coat. Harry had already left his on one of the breakfast nook chairs. He was at the stove heating up the saucepan of tomato soup his mum made in order to feed you, since you didn’t get to make your dinner.
As he took care of that, you helped Gemma organize all the ingredients and grabbed whatever else they would need by her direction.
A few moments later, Harry came over to the island with a small bowl of soup and a piece of bread for you.
“Eat and then we’ll start.” Gem said.
“No, you guys start. It’s your thing.” You waved her off. “I’m not good with measurements anyway. I’ll join in when it’s time to cut them.” You said as you walked towards the table in the nook. Gemma and Harry conceded as you sat in a spot that allowed you to watch them make the dough.
As you ate, you watched them bicker over everything—who was pouring what into the stand mixer, which measuring cups were more accurate, whether to not the version of the Christmas song that was playing was better or worse than the version that had played less than five minutes ago. They had smiles on their faces the whole time—or most of the time, at least and it was fun seeing them this way.
Your eyes kept zoning in on Harry, though. His curls fell sweetly across his forehead, the hair on the sides still pretty short from what you assumed was a necessary haircut for the movie. His eyes crinkled each time he smiled and his grin was wide. The sleeves of is black sweater were rolled up to his elbows and he had somehow already managed to get flour on his cheek.
Harry being single didn’t make sense to you. It never really had, actually. Granted, you knew he had a weird thing about committing and between what you heard on Fine Line and what Gemma told Isla (who told you for whatever reason), you kind of understood it. Also, you knew from what he had told you that being who he was made it pretty difficult to be with anybody—but still, looking at him, you could see that dating him would be worth all the shit that came with it.
Not that you wanted to date Harry. Maybe you did at one point. Who’s to say. You did had feelings, though. They were feelings that had always existed, but ones you worked really hard to erase.
When you were young you had really liked him in that teenage, romantic way. When you were sixteen, you had actually cried when he left, heart broken, confused, and disappointed; then each time he came back, he chose you.
By the time he had come back home the first time, you had kissed someone else and felt unbothered by whatever was going on between the two of you because you thought that any and all romantic feelings for him were gone. Every time he came home, though, you were forced to rethink that—but before they could fully resurface, he was gone again. Always.
You never fully acknowledged them since you only ever saw him once a year. You only spoke to him once a year—not even the other times he came back home, but only during the holiday season. It didn’t matter how you felt anyway, because it was pretty obvious that he didn’t really like you in that way—since, again, he came to you once a year for the one thing you could give him that interested him. It was what it was. At some point, he was going to come home with someone and you would have to get over whatever the past however many years had been.
You brought your empty bowl to the sink and began washing it as Harry and Gemma dropped the dough onto the counter and rolled it out.
When you turned around, they were placing it on a baking tray and covering the rolled out dough with beeswax wraps.
“What movie should we watch while it chills?” She asked.
“The Grinch.” Harry said as he put the tray in the refrigerator. “S’your favorite, yeah?” He asked, looking at you.
Gemma’s smile was clear in the corner of your eye.
“Uh, yeah. It is.” You said.
“The Grinch it is, I guess.” Gemma said as she walked out of the kitchen and towards the living room.
The three of you were sat on the couch, and for the most part, everyone kept to their personal space. Harry was in the middle of you and Gemma and you were leaning to your left, away from Harry, with your elbow resting on the arm of the couch. Your knees were pulled up to your chest and you were sticking to your personal corner.
Because you were always, for whatever reason, cold, a harsh shiver ran through your body and made you shake slightly.
“Harry, fix the fire for her.” Gemma said, not even taking her eyes off the movie. When Harry stood up and went to work it out, Gemma tossed you a blanket from the small basket that sat next to the sofa on her side.
You thanked her and draped it over your lap and pulled it up to your chin. When Harry sat back down after starting a very nice fire, he lifted the blanket and draped it over his lap, obviously deciding that the two of you would share.
It was fine with you until he reached over under the blanket and grabbed your ankle. He pulled your foot onto his lap and when you didn’t supply the other one, settling for a weird and uncomfortable position, he pinched your ankle and gave you an expectant look when you turned towards him.
You sighed lightly and gave in, but only because your knees were starting to hurt from having them bent so long. Once both feet were in his lap, you adjusted your position so that your back was against the corner of the couch; with the blanket pulled up to your chin, the fire on, and your favorite movie playing, you were beyond comfortable.
Harry went from brushing his fingers over your sock covered ankles, to lightly massaging your feet and it took everything in you not to kick him. It felt as if the two of you were doing something wrong even though you knew you weren’t—but Gemma was there and she wasn’t stupid or blind and Harry was basically giving your whole situation away.
It took more than twenty minutes for you to fully relax back into the couch and not care about the way he squeezed your ankles or how he kept lightly tickling the bottom of your foot. The whole thing felt oddly comfortable, despite the fact that you and Harry were only ever like this when the two of you were completely alone, in an empty house, in someone’s bed.
You felt some sort of fuzziness in your chest at the whole thing, which was ridiculous since it was barely anything—but that messy possibility of romantic feelings was starting to become more clear.
Harry handed you the parchment piping bag filled with icing and tried not to laugh as you struggled to pipe a straight line around the perimeter of your gingerbread man.
“You’re squeezing it too hard. S’why it’s coming out all squiggly.”
“Well if I squeeze it any lighter, nothing comes out at all.” You said with a huff. You never really had patience for tedious stuff like this, it’s why the lights on the tree outside your house always looked kind of shitty. You didn’t have the patience to deal with all the branches or to make sure they were “dispersed evenly”—and yet no one took over for you when it came time to do it every year.
“Let me show you.” Harry said and tried to take the bag from your hands.
“No, I want to do it.” You held it out of his reach and Gemma laughed as she frosted her Christmas tree.
“Fine…just..” He sighed and stood behind you. “Let me help you.”
You were standing perfectly straight and he could feel the tension radiating off your body—and he knew exactly why. He had never been this close to you around anyone before. He had never tried to touch you, or stand close to you in this way. It’s not that he didn’t want to, because often he did, he just never mustered up the courage to do it.
Also, he was never sure if you’d be okay with it. You weren’t cold, just a little hard to read. He knew you liked the sex and that you didn’t mind spending time with him, which was proven by the long drives the two of you always went on and that you were usually never in a rush to leave his bed after sex and he was never typically in a rush to leave yours (unless the two of you fought or someone’s sister called asking where they were).
Even then, he wasn’t really sure why he was being so open about touching you around Gemma—or why he even invited you to make cookies.
He had missed you since the last time he saw you and if he hadn’t had plans with Gemma, he would’ve made plans with you earlier that day. When he saw you, he had an overwhelming urge to forget the cookies and ask if you wanted to hangout or go for a drive or do anything together—but he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t ready not to see you for a third night in a row, though. So before he could really think about it, he invited you—and he was really happy he did.
Harry’s chest was against your back when he wrapped his arms around you and placed his hands over yours on the bag.
“Lean down a bit.” He said since you were still standing completely still, even though you seemed okay with what he was doing.
Harry tried to ignore the way his stomach flipped when you leaned down and accidentally pushed your backside into his hips. He leaned over with you and kept his chest barely hovering over you back. He positioned the bag over a different cookie and paused.
He knew you always sprayed your perfume at the back of your neck and he was suffering from it now. It was actually kind of embarrassing the way that just your perfume could turn him on. It had almost become an automatic response; once, while he was in Italy, a woman standing next to him was wearing your perfume which sent the butterflies catapulting around his stomach. It was ridiculous—but it always happened. Unfortunately, it was happening then, when he was so close to you, in front of his sister, when he was supposed to be concentrated on showing you how to use the piping bag correctly.
“I’m waiting.” You said.
Harry blinked quickly and cleared his throat, attempting to refocus. “Okay, so…start here…” He positioned the tip at the gingerbread man’s head. “Not too hard…” He instructed as he applied pressure to your hands so the icing started to flow. “And you’ve got to hold it up, like, a few centimeters above it and move it…so it falls like that…” He explained as he helped you ice an outline on the cookie.
“Oh, that’s easy. I can do that.” You said as he helped you connect the line.
“‘Course you can.” Harry said before placing a quick kiss to your hair—he immediately froze.
“Oh,” Gemma laughed. “That was weird.”
Harry dropped his arms from around you and took a step away, but you stayed frozen.
Gemma pointed at you. “Harry, I think you’ve traumatized her.” She was trying to hide her smile.
“I didn’t…that wasn’t…” He laughed awkwardly.
Just then, thankfully, Harry’s mum walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Ah, (Y/N)! Thought I heard your voice.” She walked over and pulled you into a hug.
“Mum, she’s been here for, like, three hours.” Gemma said.
“I know, but my book was really good. Had to finish it.” His mum leaned over and took a look at the cookie you had just iced. “Oh, that’s a lovely job.”
“Harry helped her.” Gemma said, a huge smirk on her face. Harry pulled the tea towel off his shoulder and tossed it at her.
“No Isla?” She asked.
“No, she’s on a date. Harry invited (Y/N), actually.” Gemma supplied. Harry wanted to kill her. Of course she was going to be annoying like that. She could never let anything go and always had to tease him. It was infuriating.
“Oh.” Harry couldn’t tell if his mum was surprised or not—or if she was surprised, whether or not it was genuine. She turned her attention back to you. “What are you doing for new years?”
“Probably nothing.” You shrugged. “Isla will probably be off somewhere with Gemma or something so I’ll prob be home with mum.”
“Well, you’re always welcome here. I’m sure Harry’ll be home.” Harry didn’t miss the not-so-subtle wink she sent him and he was sure you caught it too.
“Thank you.” You said shyly, which was very unlike you.
“So, how’s London? I’m sure you’ve got a better idea now that you’ve been there for a bit.”
“So you knew she moved as well?” Harry asked as he leaned his hip against the island.
His mum looked at him as if he was an idiot. “Of course I did. Maggie and I drove her there.”
“You went with her and her mum?” Harry couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah, Gemma helped move her as well.”
“And no one bothered to tell me?” He looked between Gemma, you and his mum.
She shrugged. “Guess not. Didn’t really think you’d care.” She placed a hand on your shoulder. “Not to sound rude, sweet. I just didn’t think you two were that friendly.”
“Trust me, neither did I.” You said and his mum laughed.
The hurt he felt when you said that was somewhat of a shock, even though he knew it was a joke. The two of you were way more than friendly.
Harry’s mum tried to stifle her laugh when she saw the look on his face. “Right, any cookies for me to decorate?”
You and Harry were standing in his driveway in front of the driver’s side door of your car. You had a few of the cookies you iced in a tiny gift box in your hand and Harry’s hands were shoved in his jean pockets.
“So, what was that?”
“What was what?” He asked, but it was clear that he knew exactly what you were asking about.
“You kissed me. In front of your sister.”
“I kissed you on the head.” He mumbled.
“You still kissed me!”
“I do it all the time.”
“Yeah, when we’re alone. What was with you tonight? You, like, touched me and acted…like we were alone.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” The question took you a bit off guard.
“I don’t know. We’ve just never been like that. And for good reason.”
“And what reason is that?”
“You’re gonna leave. You can’t act like you like me in front of people and then not talk to me for a year. It’s unfair and I’ll look like an idiot.”
“But it’s okay for me to be like that with you in private and then leave?”
“Yes!” You chuckled. “Are you new here? This is how it goes. This is what we do.”
“Maybe we should try something different.” He shrugged.
“Maybe you need to get your sanity checked.” You smiled and shook your head. “Goodnight, Harry.” You said as you pulled open the door of your car and climbed inside.
Once it was on, Harry knocked on the window and you rolled your eyes playfully as you rolled it down. He rested his arms on the edge and leaned inside.
“You’re going to the pub tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, I was gonna go with Isla.”
“Maybe come with me instead?” He smiled, but it looked like a nervous one.
“I’ll think about it.” And you would—because all of this was suddenly very confusing. This wasn’t how the two of you worked. You went places separately, were civil, and then left together—usually spent the next several hours together. You were supposed to meet in parking lots and take secret drives and exist invisibly.
“Can I at least have a kiss then?”
“What is wrong with you tonight?”
“C’mon, babe. Please?”
“Will you get out of my window then?”
“Fine.” You sighed before leaning over and placing a short but sweet kiss to his lips.
You rolled your eyes. “Goodnight. And stop calling me that.”
December 30, 2020
“I think you could just stay.” Harry said into your hair.
You were in his room, naked under the covers, having just spent the past hour doing some very fun things.
“I don’t think I can.” You said into his chest. “I have to go and get ready for the thing later.”
He cuddled you closer to his chest. “It’s just the pub, babe.”
“Yeah, but you know everyone usually gets dressed up tonight. I want to look good.”
“You always look good.”
“Maybe to you, but I want other people to think I look good.”
Harry’s brow furrowed. “Why? You’re not going home with anyone else.”
“That may be true,” Harry felt himself relax. “But I still want to look pretty. Even if just for myself.”
“The pub isn’t for another four hours. You don’t have to go home yet. C’mon and stay a bit longer.”
As much as you wanted to—and you really wanted to—you couldn’t. “I know but I want to nap and shower and I have to figure out whether or not I’m going to style my hair and—“
“You need a nap? I tired you out that much, huh?” He chuckled as you rolled your eyes and pushed away from him, attempting to get out of his grasp, but his arms around you didn’t budge.
“What if you sleep…here…and I go get your stuff. We were going together anyway. Why not get ready together?”
“I never actually agreed to go with you.”
“But you want to.”
“But I still never agreed.”
Harry let out a frustrated groan. “C’mon! Why are you so against it?”
“Because it’s weird! We don’t do that!”
“C’mon, love. Please.” He kissed your head. “Please?”
You felt yourself melt at his soft voice, but you were still apprehensive. “You’re gonna go to my house and get my things? Like, you’re actually going to do that?”
“Yes, I am.” He kissed your hair again. “Tell me what I need to get and I’ll get it.”
“But my sister might be home.”
“What do you mean ‘so’?”
“They know we hookup, love. They have to know. It’s been years. You think they’ve never heard us? I don’t really think it’s as much of a secret as we think it is.”
“Yeah, but, like…that doesn’t mean I want her to know.”
“Babe, please. Let me go and get everything. It’ll be fine. I’ll say I’m picking stuff up for my mum if she’s there.”
“She would never buy that.”
“You’re unbelievable.” His chest shook softly with his laugh and you kissed his bare chest.
As he sat in his car in front of your house, he went over the list you had typed out for him one more time: black dress, black tights, a very specific panty set--and a pair of thick socks. He smirked when he realized you’d be wearing your Docs. At least some things about you didn’t change.
As he walked to the door, he pulled out the set of keys you had given him and attempted to locate the one with the mushroom sticker. He shoved it into the lock and turned it, but when it didn’t turn, he realized it was already unlocked.
He pushed the door open and smiled sheepishly at your sister who was sitting on the couch with a huge smirk on her face.
“First door on the left.” She said as he closed the door behind him. “But we both know you know that.”
“How’s everything going?” He asked in order to distract from how badly he was blushing.
“Good. How’s my sister? I haven’t seen her yet today.”
Harry wanted to die right there. He was beyond embarrassed—and you were right, them knowing was unbelievably awkward.
“She’s good, I think.” He said as he stood awkwardly in front of the door. He knows you were good—better than good. You were snuggled up in his bed, wearing his t-shirt, fast asleep.
“Can you do me a favor, actually?” Isla asked.
“When you leave this time, try not to leave my sister completely heart broken, yeah?”
Harry’s brows lifted up in shock. He didn’t know what to say. Heart broken? When had he ever left you broken hearted? He wouldn’t do that. Your sister had no idea what she was talking about.
Isla smiled at Harry before turning back to whatever she was watching on TV and Harry took it as his cue to go upstairs.
Thankfully, the dress was laid out on your bed. He folded it carefully and placed it into the tote bag you had hanging over the back of your desk chair.
He turned around and looked at the chest of drawers you had and realized he was going to have to look through every singe one—which felt wrong, but he didn’t know where any of your stuff was.
He was able to locate the bra set in the fourth draw and bit his lip when he saw which one it was—probably a coincidence, but he liked to think it wasn’t. And of course, your socks and tights are in the last drawer he checked; he shoved three pairs of tights and the black socks into the bag before grabbing your green coat even though you didn’t tell him too. He just thought it would look better than the cream colored one you had worn to his.
Not really knowing what you needed make up wise, he dropped both makeup bags into the tote without looking and also tossed in some toiletries you might need—he didn’t want to run the risk of forgetting anything and you having to go home.
On the drive over, Harry thought about what you had seemed to ask him several times: what was wrong with him. What was wrong with him was that he had spent the past year missing you intensely--in a way that he never had before.
Okay, so maybe that was a lie. When he left for the x-factor, he had missed you a lot, but then it faded. During his 1D days, he thought about you from time to time, especially when he saw you posting on social media, but really only thought about you when he came home for the holidays. He blamed it on his ego. During that time, he was cocky and sleeping around and definitely took your friendship for granted—if it even was a friendship.
The two of you were confusing and complicated and were only ever friends when you were alone. Obviously he cared about you, or your friendship/hooking up/mess would’ve ended a long time ago—obviously, part of him always had feelings for you to some degree. It was the only thing that could explain whatever the two of you were.
A few years ago, Harry had actually felt those feelings full force. He came home for the holiday and saw you and thought he must’ve been an idiot to not have been with you this entire time—at least an idiot for not trying. Not that he ever acted on those feelings. He couldn’t read you; you seemed so comfortable with the situation, so okay with being together for only a few days out of the year—which was ridiculous, but it’s just what you two were, just like you said. So he didn’t say anything, then he met Camille and he was happy until he wasn’t.
The romantic feelings always seemed to come back for a few days, but hadn’t come back full force in a while— not until after he had already left you last year.
Harry was aware that this time around, he was acting in a way that he hadn’t with you before. He wanted to go places together and didn’t care to be around his family; he was calling you ‘babe’ in new contexts and he was doing it simply because he wanted to. He wanted to show you that things had changed for him—he wanted you to show that you were feeling the same way, or at least that you had in the past.
You weren’t giving him much, though. You constantly questioned his actions and his motives. He couldn’t be surprised, it probably looked as if it had came out of nowhere, but Harry was pretty sure it had been there all along.
“Bye, Isla!” Harry calls as he walks towards the door, slightly terrified of another warning from her.
“See you later, Harry!”
When he walked into his room, he saw that you were still asleep. He dropped the bag, kicked off his vans and climbed under the covers next to you. You scrunched your nose when he kissed it. He kissed the corner of your mouth and you shrunk away, now only half asleep. Finally, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him.
“S’time to get ready, love.”
You shook your head with your eyes still closed.
“C’mon. You take ages to get ready…and you’ve got to shower.”
“Why? Do I smell?” you mumbled as your eyes slowly opened.
“Like me a bit, yeah.”
“Oh god, then I definitely need to shower.” You said as you wriggled your way out of Harry’s arms and stood up from the bed.
When you got to his bedroom door, you turned around with a worried look on your face. “Oh, fuck. Your family is home.”
“So, what if your mum or you sister sees me walking back in my towel?”
“They’re gonna wave and say hello.” Harry took a step closer to you and smiled.
You whacked him lightly on the shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you. “You’re so irritating.”
“You need to stop worrying about what they think. They don’t care. If they did, I really think they would’ve said something by now. I think they would’ve said something years ago.”
You sighed. “I guess you’re right. It just feels weird, you know? We’ve been doing the same, like, secret thing for so long. It feels weird to be here when you’re not, or like, to be going somewhere together? I don’t know, it’s just confusing.”
“But you’re still comin’ with me, right?”
You sighed again. “Yeah, I’ll go with you.” You shoved away from him. “Now I really need to get ready.”
Harry watched in amusement as you opened the door slowly, stuck your head out and looked both ways several times. When you deemed it safe, you slipped through carefully and scurried quickly to the door across the hall. Harry followed lazily, holding the stuff he had brought from your house and tried not to make fun of you.
While you took what you needed out, he turned on the shower for you and pulled a towel out of the cupboard.
Harry leaned against the doorframe and watched you pull out each product and line them up on the counter, in a straight line, upright. Your brow was furrowed as you dug through the bag, looking to see what he had grabbed. He had a small smile on his face as he watched you, while warmth blossomed in his chest.
The feelings were real, he was sure of that more than anything.
When Harry returned from the shower with his towel hanging low on his waist, he found you sitting at the edge of his bed in your bra and panties, pulling your tights up your legs.
It turned him on, which wasn’t a surprise since typically everything you did turned him on. He closed his door and fought back a smile, but then it dropped.
He wondered how many mornings he could’ve had like this in London; how many times could he have watched you get ready for work after spending the night? You two had never been on a date, but maybe you could’ve in London. Harry would’ve asked if he had known you were there.
When you stand to pull your stockings the rest of the way up, he sat on the bed where you had just been and rubbed his hand over his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me you moved to London?”
“What?” You asked as you turned around to face him.
“You moved to London.”
“You didn’t even tell me.”
You shrugged. “I didn’t know we were like that.”
Harry’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? We’ve been doing this since we were…we’re friends.”
You tugged at the stockings around your waist. “I mean…I guess, but we—we’ve never really talked like that, you know? I have your number and I use it once a year. I get a summary of your life in the few days we spend together and I-I think we’re friends but you never…you never really call or text to check up and you never really seemed to care about me beyond what we do when you’re here so I didn’t tell you. I didn’t really think you’d care.”
Harry sighed and tugged at your hand. He pulled you down onto his lap and dropped his forehead onto your shoulder. “I just…I wish I knew you were there. I would’ve called you. I would’ve…had you over. I could’ve shown you around London.”
“You’re busy Harry. You have a life, things to do. It’s why you’ve never really bothered with me besides, like…like…” You shook your head. “You know what I mean.” You poked his cheek and tried to lighten the mood a little. “I’m all the way in East London anyway.”
“S’not far at all.”
You shrugged again. “I just didn’t really think you would care. I feel like you’ve always seen me as the person who’s always here—just always here for you. I mean, yeah, part of me wanted to call you and be like, ‘I got out too, dick,’ but…I’m better than that.”
Harry chuckled and then grew serious again. “Gem didn’t even tell me.”
“I kind of told her not to.”
“So you’re above rubbing it in my face, but not above purposefully keeping it from me.”
“Do I have to apologize for what I said last year again?”
You shook your head. “I’d really prefer it if you didn’t—you were kind of right anyway. I had always been a little jealous that you got out, that you travel all the time, and have this really great life away from all the small town shit. I always wanted that and just…I don’t know, I never left.”
“You did, though.” He kissed your shoulder. “So, that’s something.”
“Do you know what else is something?”
“I can feel your fucking hard on through the towel.”
“Good.” Harry said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and twisted around to push you down on the bed. Your giggles echoed in his ears as he kissed your neck and your hands went to his hair.
Once Harry pulled into a parking spot in front of the pub, you unbuckled your seat belt and turned to him with a very serious look on your face. “Okay, we need ground rules.”
“Rules? For what?”
“For in there!” You pointed blindly towards the pub.
“As much as you swear our families know what we do, no one in there does. Would that be correct?”
Harry thought it over for a moment and then nodded. “Probably.”
“So we go in there as friends. Got it? None of the weird stuff you’ve been doing. No fucking forehead kissing or hugging or calling me things that you shouldn’t—absolutely no kissing me.”
“Wow, you’re really determined on taking all the fun out of having you as my date.”
“Since when was I coming as your date?”
“What made you think you weren’t? I asked you to come with me. Why else would I do that if I didn’t want you to come as my date?”
“I don’t know!” And really, you didn’t. It had never occurred to you that he would be asking you to be his date. You had stopped being hopeful for things like that several years ago.
That past few days had really made you realize just how closed off you’ve made yourself to the idea of Harry being anything more than a once a year fling. When you were younger, you longed for him—you still did only a few years ago, but he never once showed that he wanted anything more the way that you did. So you trained yourself to be okay with this situation; you forced your brain to accept that it would only ever exist in secret, behind closed doors and in vacant parking lots despite the fact that you cared for him deeply and always thought he had cared that way for you.
Now, he was messing it all up. He was inviting you places and didn’t just want to hangout in the form of going for long drives or in the way that you’d spend the whole day in his bed behind a locked door. He didn’t seem to want the simple civility around others and then the great sex when the two of you were alone. He was showing you affection in very public ways, which he had never done before and it was throwing you for a loop. You didn’t know how to handle it—and you wanted to have fun tonight. You didn’t want to spend the next few hours wondering what his touches and kisses meant, what other people were thinking about the sudden change between the two of you. You didn’t want to be confused or have to deal with the growing hope in your chest that your feelings for him were reciprocated.
You did have feelings for him—you always had. As much as you pretended they had gone away, they hadn’t. They may have laid dormant while Harry was gone out of sheer survival, but each year he came back, you had to actively fight them back down. He was the reason you never really liked any of the guys you’ve dated—never even coming close to the way you liked him, but you had always thought that he had made his choice, and it wasn’t you. You would always be a temporary thing, a treat when he came home—and it was more than okay with you, because he had become yours as well—but now he was giving you reason to believe that you had gotten it all wrong.
“Fine, I’m your date.” You said.
“Obviously.” Harry laughed lightly.
“But no kissing me.” You held up a finger in front of his face.
“Am I allowed to touch you at all?” Harry dropped his warm hand onto your thigh and your stomach flipped.
You felt your resolve disappear. “Only a little. Like, don’t get crazy.”
“Okay, I’ll try not to.” He was trying not to laugh at you.
“Okay, let’s go.” You moved to open the door, but Harry squeezed your thigh to stop you.
“Wait, wait, wait. If you’re not gonna let me kiss you in there, I should at least get a kiss out here.”
“You’ve really gotten much needier since last year, you know that?”
“Lots changed since last year.” The look in his eyes made you think he wanted you to ask what exactly had changed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
You leaned forward and kissed him softly. You pulled away for a second and felt his hand on your thigh tighten. You kissed him again, but harder, happy when he let you slip your tongue into his mouth for a taste.
“Satisfied?” You asked.
“Never.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes. “Alright, c’mon.” You pushed the door open and climbed out, ignoring Harry’s groan as he moved to follow you.
The pub was still decorated for Christmas and still felt as festive as ever. It was already packed, people drinking and chatting loudly at every table and in every corner.
Harry’s hand was planted firmly on your back as you walked through the door and straight to the bar.
“Happy almost New Year.” Seb said when he met you and Harry where you were waiting.
“Happy New Year.” You both said in unison. You scrunched up your nose when you heard it and Harry ordered the both of you a pint.
While the two of you waited, Harry slung his arm around your waist and rested his hand on your hip. You tried to relax and not let it bother you—you liked it, but again, this was new territory for the both of you and it made you get your hopes up, which was never good.
“Harry!” His arm dropped from your waist when Alfie popped up next to him. “Happy New Year.” His eyes flickered over to you and a curious look overtook his face. “(Y/N), hey! Was wondering if you were coming. I didn’t see you walk in with Isla.”
“Yeah, I gave her a ride.” Harry said.
“Oh, you two came together?” Alfie was fighting off a smirk.
“He just gave me a ride.” You said before thanking Seb for the glass he placed in front of you. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” You smiled before grabbing your drink and leaving them at the bar.
As you searched for Katie, you were sure Harry would be annoyed at the fact that you left him there like that, especially if you were supposed to be his date, but you didn’t want to deal with the teasing. You were sure it would be a night of cat and mouse with him—but you hoped it wouldn’t be. He couldn’t be serious about actually wanting you to be his date. You needed him to prove it.
You slid up next to Katie and looped your arm through hers with a smile on your face.
“I saw you walk in with Harry.” She whispered so her fiancé and his other friend in the tiny circle wouldn’t hear.
“Did you?” You took a sip of your drink.
“What’s that about?”
“I needed a ride.”
“And that’s all?”
“S’all.” You said as you took another sip.
Before you felt his hand on the small of your back, you knew it was him by the smirk on Katie’s face as she looked over her shoulder.
“Hi, Harry.” She said as she beamed.
Harry greeted her as well as the other two standing with you as he ran his hand up and down your back. You fought the urge to lean into his touch as much as you wanted to, not wanting to make it look like something you were trying to be sure it wasn’t.
The next two hours passed in a blur. Harry’s hands were all over you—and you stopped minding it. You let him rub circles on your back as you talked to people, grabbed his hand when he held it out behind him so he could guide you through the throng of people, and even let him place his hand on your thigh as you sat with Isla and Gemma. You had even started touching him, which you knew was a shock to him from the look on his face when you did it for the first time. You would casually drop your hand over his on your thigh, or pick a piece of lint off his sweater, squeeze his arm when you wanted his attention, and even squeezed his hand when some drunk guy made a rather rude comment about Harry’s success, knowing he wouldn’t defend himself.
It was all a lot easier than you thought it would be and felt more natural than pretending that the other didn’t exist. You weren’t getting your hopes up, though. You were far too stubborn for that.
You were craning your neck in search of Harry who you hadn’t seen in almost twenty minutes when Katie tugged you away from the people you were talking to.
“Katie—what—why you are—“ You struggled to complain as you tried not to drop your glass while she pulled you through the pub.
Once the two of you were at the hall where the bathrooms were located, she stopped and you pulled your arm from her grasp. “What the hell, Katie?”
“What’s going on?” She asked.
“What do you mean?”
She gave you a stern look. “You’ve been all over each other all night. I’ve noticed. Everyone’s noticed. What’s going on?”
You shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“Oh, c’mon. It doesn’t look like nothing.” She sighed. “I know we were never friends up until a few years ago, but I thought we were close now. We have been for the past four years, or at least I thought.”
“We are!” You squeezed her arm. “We are. It’s just…it’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
You threw your hands out in exasperation. “Okay, so maybe it’s not!”
“Maybe it’s not? What does that mean?”
“It means that maybe something is going on, but maybe it isn’t—no, you know what? It isn’t. It could’ve been something years ago.” You were ranting now. “It could’ve been something every year, for the past fucking ten years, but he never chose me. He never stayed—so, you know what? It’s nothing.” You heard a door close behind you. “Harry is fucking nothing.”
The sound of a bitter laugh was what made you turn around. Of course, Harry was standing there, surely having just come from the bathroom.
“At least now I know why you were so against tonight.” He muttered as he brushed past you and disappeared into the throng of people.
You looked at Katie whose eyes were wide. “Fucking go, you idiot.” She said as she shoved you softly in the direction he went in.
You squeezed through the groups of people quickly and went straight to the exit, figuring he had gone outside. When you pushed the door open, you found him walking around the corner of the pub.
“Harry, wait.” You said as you followed him. He didn’t stop until you tugged on his jacket.
“What?” His brow was furrowed in anger.
“I didn’t…I didn’t mean what I said.”
“You said that I was nothing and I’m assuming you meant to say that I’m nothing to you.”
You shook your head. “That’s not—it was out of context.”
“How could that be taken out of context?”
“I was just saying that you and I were nothing.”
“And that’s any better? Do you really, honestly believe that there’s nothing between us?”
“I do.” You crossed your arms over your chest defensively.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Harry said as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “If there’s nothing between us, if we’re nothing, then why are we still doing this? Why do we do this every single year?”
“I don’t know!”
“You do know!”
You laughed. “All of a sudden I’m something to you? All of a sudden you want to act like you like me? That you have feelings for me? Bullshit, Harry. I don’t know if I’m meant to be some kind of rebound this year, or what, but this isn’t us. It was never us.”
“You’ve always been something to me! Jesus fucking Christ, (Y/N). I wouldn’t be doing any of this if you weren’t! Why is it so fucking hard for you to understand that?”
Was he serious? “I see you once a year, Harry! We only talk once a year! You don’t call, you don’t text, you don’t seem to ever give a shit about me unless you’re home for the holidays and we’re fucking.”
“Why is it that you seem to constantly forget that you don’t call or text me either? You have never once reached out to congratulate me on anything, not a single happy birthday, not a single check up—nothing. You’re mad at me for not doing something that you don’t do either!”
“I don’t do it because you don’t! If you reached out, then so would I!”
“I text you on your birthday every year and you barely give me the time of day. I even tried to call you last year and you didn’t fucking answer! You have somehow managed to convince yourself that I don’t give a shit about you when it’s actually you who doesn’t care about me.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is true! You make me out to be some guy who comes home to use you once a year and that’s not true. I bought you a fucking sofa! I ask you to hangout. I like being with you. I always have.”
You shook your head. “You always leave.”
“Because I have to!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “I would not still be doing this with you if I didn’t feel something for you.”
“Harry, c’mon. It’s not that simple and you know it.”
“Apparently, I don’t.”
You sighed heavily. “Do you know how fucking hard it is for me to watch you leave every year? You come home and we spend days together and then that’s it. It’s over. You’ve never once asked me out on a date, never once acted like you wanted me in front of every one else. What else was I supposed to think? It looked like—it felt—like all I ever was to you was a fuck. Something easy—especially when you were in the band.”
“The band was—I was—I was different then.”
“Oh, trust me. I’m aware. You came home every year and told me all about all the other girls you slept with.”
“And I’m sorry for that, I really am, but you’re blaming everything on me again. You never hinted that you wanted more. You never told me you wanted to go on a date. How was I supposed to know? I can’t read your mind, (Y/N).”
“How was I supposed to tell you that I liked you? You were running all over the world, meeting different girls, and doing all of these amazing things. How was I going to tell you that I liked you?”
“What would any of that matter?”
“You don’t get it, Harry, but it mattered.”
“Does it still matter now?”
He sighed and tried to cover up his frustration. “I’m not playing games anymore. I like you. I really fucking like you and I have for years.”
You rolled your eyes. You wouldn’t let yourself listen to him or believe him. It would be too easy.
“You are so unbelievably stubborn.” He muttered. When you tried to turn your head away from him, he cupped your face in both of his hands and made you look at him. “I need you to listen to me. I have feelings for you, okay? I have for a long time and I’m really fucking sorry that this has taken me so long, but I’m telling you now and I mean it. I really mean it.”
Tears stung your eyes as Harry’s searched your face. You felt overwhelmed and slightly confused. The hope was blossoming from where you had buried it deep and you needed it to go back down.
“I can’t—“ You shook your head. “I need to go home.” You pulled his hands from your face and started walking towards the parking lot quickly. When Harry called your name, you didn’t turn around.
You knew you were hurting him and a very large part of you knew that he was being genuine. He wouldn’t lie to you like that. He wouldn’t lie about something as serious and as potentially destructive as that. You didn’t know why it was so hard to accept.
Of course you had feelings for him, but maybe it was too late. Maybe there had been too many years of whatever you two were doing for anything else to work. He had said things you had been waiting years to hear and you were rejecting him? Why? It didn’t make any sense.
Isla would know what to do, she always did. As much as you always swore you would never talk to her about the Harry situation, you needed to now that he was ready to blow up everything you had tried so hard to accept. The wall was necessary. It had allowed you to enjoy him without engaging in your feelings. The wall was the reason you never reached out. You had set boundaries so that you wouldn’t end up heartbroken the way you used to.
You hadn’t realized you had started walking home until Harry drove up beside you.
“Love, get in the car.”
“I’m fine.” You needed the time alone to think.
“(Y/N), it’s absolutely freezing. It’s a 25 minute walk. Get in the car.”
“I don’t want to.” You didn’t look at him as you began to shiver.
“I don’t care what you want. Get in the bloody car.”
You stopped walking and turned to him and spoke through the open passenger window. “If I get in the car, we aren’t talking. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
He shook his head. “Whatever. Just get in the fucking car.”
You were silent as you pulled open the door and climbed inside. It was clear from his body language that he was upset. He kept tugging his bottom lip between his fingers and leaned away from you as he drove. The furrow in his brow seemed unmoving and he cleared his throat every few minutes.
Despite what you had said, you were itching to talk to him. You wanted to say something—anything, but you needed to think first. You needed to figure out what you were going to say and how you were going to say it—and you needed to do it before he went back to London because if you didn’t, nothing between the two of you would ever be the same. That was the only thing you were certain of.
When he pulled up in front of your house, he unlocked the doors but didn’t turn to look at you. You got out silently and closed the door. Just as you started to thank him, he began to drive away, cementing what you already knew: not saying anything at the pub had been a mistake.
The first thing you did when you got inside was make yourself a large cup of tea. As the kettle sat on the stove, you made a tiny plate of the gingerbread cookies Gemma and Harry made a few days ago even though you knew you wouldn’t eat them since your stomach was in knots.
You sighed and shut your eyes in order to stop the tears from falling. It was ridiculous. All of this was ridiculous and it had been from the start. Why did you and Harry ever think that what you were doing could last? Why did you both just assume that it wasn’t and couldn’t be complicated? It was fucking naive.
You brought your tea and cookies up to your room and placed them on your nightstand before sitting on your bed. You sent a text to Isla and asked her to see her when she got home.
While you waited, you tried not to the think about the situation, but failed completely. You had liked him for years—since you were fifteen. Every year, he left and every year you were heartbroken. A few years ago you had forced yourself to get over it, or at least attempted to. The feelings never went away and you knew that, but it was hard for you to forget how much time you had spent hurting because of him.
Then you had to remind yourself that he hadn’t known. You were mad at him and holding a grudge over something he didn’t even do on purpose. In a lot of ways, he was right. He had to leave. He had a life in another city, a job that made it mandatory that he travel. He was right when he said that you never reached out. He was right that you had spent years piling all of it on him, using his lack of contact as an excuse to keep the wall there.
He was right when he said you hadn’t answered his call last year. In fact, you had declined it. It was shitty of you and you knew that, but you knew that if you answered, it would make you soft. You didn’t want to be soft with him.
Did you keep the move to London from him on purpose? Yes, you did. Was it because you were afraid what could happen if the two of you started seeing one another regularly? Maybe. Was it because you were afraid he wouldn’t care? Yes—but you knew that was extremely unlikely. When Harry came home, he was always the one asking you to stay after sex, asking to go on drives, and spend more time together. You were starting to think that you had simply chose to believe that he could never want anything more because you were too scared of what it meant, afraid of that kind of change.
It was only thirty minutes later that you heard a knock on your door.
“Come in.” You called.
Your bedroom door opened and not only was Isla standing in the doorway, but so was Gemma.
“So…” Isla started with a playful smile on her face. “You and Harry?”
“There is no me and Harry.”
“Oh, bullshit.” Gemma said as she entered your room. Isla trailed behind her as she came to sit on your bed next to you.
“You do realize that we’ve known for years, right? We’re your sisters. We see things and we talk.” Isla said.
“Yeah—and the two of you aren’t very quiet.” Gemma lifted her eyebrows.
“Yeah, we really need to talk about that, by the way.” Isla said as she sat on the other side of you.
“Later.” Gemma held up her hand when Isla opened her mouth to continue. “So, what’s going on? The two of you were all touchy at the pub and then you disappeared. And he’s not here. So I’m assuming one of you said the wrong thing and, like every year, are being fucking stupid.”
“Nothing is going on.” You shook your head and picked at a loose thread at the end of your sweatshirt. “Ow!” You said when Isla tugged harshly on your hair.
“You’re lying.” She said.
You ran your hands over your face. “We’ve just been…hooking up.”
“For years.” Isla reminded.
“Yeah, and now…I don’t know. He said-“ You groaned and his your face in your hands. “He said he has feelings for me.”
“No shit.” Gemma said at the same Isla said, “Obviously.”
“No, not obviously.” You argued.
“I really don’t see what the problem is. You’ve liked him for years.” Isla said as she leaned her shoulder against your headboard.
“And he’s liked you for years.” Gemma added.
“That’s what he said.”
“So what’s the problem?” It was clear that Isla was growing frustrated with you.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I just—we’ve never been like this. We weren’t supposed to be like this. I got used to what we were and doing that was fucking hard. Now it’s all supposed to change? And why did it take him so long if he had feelings for me this whole time?”
“You’re so bloody terrified of things changing, of finally getting him in the way you’ve always wanted him, that you’re ruining this for yourself. You know that, right?” Isla asked.
“I’m not scared.”
“You are! You still have feelings for him, right?”
“Well, yeah. Unfortunately.”
“Uh, it’s not unfortunate if he’s got those feelings too.” Gemma said.
“It’s unfortunate because it would never work.” You shook your head. “It just won’t. If it could’ve, then we would’ve tried already.”
“It wouldn’t have worked because you would’ve still been here at home—and, no offense, but you’ve always kind of resented him for leaving.” Isla said the last part quickly and your mouth dropped open in offense.
“I have not!”
“You have!” She said. “You’ve always wanted to leave and you couldn’t. You held it against him. You know you did.”
“But now you’re in London too! You’re both in London!” Gemma said encouragingly.
“I don’t know.”
“Why are you so fucking scared, (Y/N)? You’ve always wanted more and now there’s a real chance for you to get it and you’re ruining it. You have no real reason for what you’re doing. Did you even tell him you liked him back?”
You didn’t look at Isla. “No, I asked to go home.”
“Oh, my God!” They both said in unison and Gemma shoved your shoulder.
“You did not.”
“I did.” You cringed.
“Look,” Gemma started. “Harry likes you, he has for years. I’ve known it and so has my mum even if he didn’t know it himself. You are literally the longest relationship he’s ever had.” She laughed.
“Does it suck that it took him this long to figure his shit out and show you that he has feelings for you? Yeah, but how much do you wanna bet he would’ve figured it out a lot sooner if you were honest about how you felt years ago?” Isla asked.
“Oh, you’d win that bet.” Gemma said.
“I know I would! (Y/N), you are the only reason you’re sitting here right now stressing out. You never told him how you felt. We both know that he texts you on your birthday and you pretty much ignore him. As much as you want to believe that Harry’s wrong here...he’s not. You’re mad at him for telling you he has feelings for you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” You said.
“We know.” Gemma smiled.
“I think you really need to figure out why you’re so afraid of mutual feelings and then get the fuck over it.” Isla said.
“We’ve been waiting for the two of you to get together for years. Don’t ruin this for us.” Gemma patted your head as they stood up from your bed.
“What if I don’t get to talk to him before he leaves? I highly doubt he’ll answer my calls.”
“Oh, mum didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“We’re coming over tomorrow for New Years Eve. Harry, my mum and I, like we used to.”
“Oh.” You said, suddenly feeling the pressure.
“It’ll be fine. Just figure your shit out in the next twenty-four hours.” Isla said before dropping a kiss on your head.
Obviously, you wouldn’t be sleeping much.
December 31, 2020
Harry didn’t want to go. Last night felt like as scathing rejection and he didn’t know how to deal with it. How was he supposed even be around you after he tells you that he has feelings for you, that he thinks he always had, that you’ve always been someone to him and you simply asked to go home.
Unfortunately, he had to go. His mum was so excited to revive an old tradition, one that Harry never particularly minded, but one that was always slightly awkward since the two of you spent the whole night pretending to barely know one another—one that Harry was sure was completely futile since Gemma confirmed the night before that they had always known. He also didn’t want to spend the night alone or ruin it for anyone else.
Harry let his mum drive, knowing that he was planning on drinking enough to make the night bearable and spent the extremely short drive to yours in the backseat (Gemma still wouldn’t let him sit in the front) with a charcuterie board on his lap.
“Oh, I’m so excited!” His mum said. “Just like old times, yeah?”
“Mhmm,” Harry mumbled before opening the door and climbing out.
The three of them walked up your driveway with an offering in hand; his mum held onto a plate of left over mince pies, Gemma had a bottle of wine dangling from each hand and Harry had the board that his mum had taken almost an hour to prepare.
Your mum opened the door with a huge smile on her face and quickly welcomed them inside. The first thing Harry did was look for you, but you were no where to be found. Isla had bounded over in a flowy, long sleeved dress and grabbed the board from Harry’s hands.
“She’s upstairs.” She whispered.
Harry nodded before pulling her into a hug. He wasn’t going to look for you. If you wanted to talk to him then it was on you to make the first move. He had done enough. He had reached out every year, had tried to show you that he wanted you and you rejected him every time. He wasn’t going to do it anymore.
“Hi Maggie”, he said as he pulled your mom into a hug.
“Harry, it’s lovely to see you. I love your jumper.” She smiled and pointed to the little lamb when they pulled away.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” His mum asked as they all walked towards the kitchen.
“She’s still getting ready. Said she didn’t sleep much last night so she took a nap after lunch, but she should be down in a bit.”
Harry ignored his mum’s sly smile as they gathered around the island. Apparently, Gemma had shared more with their mum than she should’ve. Just because Harry knew that they knew, didn’t mean that had to stop ignoring the whole situation. It would’ve been better for them to ignore it then, since there was a very large chance that whatever had been happening or could’ve happened was over.
As your mum and Isla grabbed wine glasses and filled them, his mum uncovered the board and Gemma started cutting the extra loaf of bread your mum had abandoned in favor of the wine.
You were sat on your bed, half dressed, with your nail between your teeth. Nothing seemed right. You wanted to look good and your anxiety and frustration was making you feel uncomfortable in every piece of clothing you owned.
You sighed in annoyance before picking up the blue, straight leg jeans you had thrown on the floor only a few minutes before and pulled them on. You slipped a white t-shirt over the light blue, lacy bra you were wearing and tugged the black sweater from its spot on the shelf. You had had it for years; it had rather large daisies scattered all over it and had a very high neck which you liked. You tucked the front of it into your jeans and rolled the sleeves up until they were an inch or two above your wrists.
You did your makeup quickly and in your usual style, some brown on the lid and a little bit of pink lipstick on your lips, not forgetting the blush over your cheeks and nose.
You weren’t as dressed up as Isla, but you were comfortable, so it would have to do.
You hopped down the stairs, very aware that Harry and his family had arrived a little over thirty minutes ago and froze halfway down when you saw him laughing at something your mum had said.
He looked cute and happy and not at all like you left him the night before.
“Oh, there she is!” Anne said, breaking you out of your moment.
“Hi.” You called as you walked the rest of the way down and over to where there we all standing in the kitchen. You slid into the open spot, which was between Harry and Isla, and tried not to frown when he inched away from you.
You thanked your mum when she handed you a glass of wine and immediately took a sip. You already knew the night was going to be long and possibly torturous—you would take all the wine you could get.
The next thirty minutes were spent standing around the island laughing and talking as you all picked on what Anne had brought. Harry hadn’t looked at you once, even when you spoke. Each time someone asked you a question or you started talking, he either found his glass completely fascinating, or chose that exact moment to check his phone.
You were in the middle of staring up at him, begging him to look at you, when you heard Anne’s voice.
“When are you going back to London?”
“The second. I have to be back at work on the third.”
“So is Harry! Maybe the two of you could go back together.” She said.
You looked over at Harry who, of course, was staring down at his phone. He didn’t look up until Anne asked him if he could drive you back to London as well.
“Dunno what time I’m leaving,” was all he said.
“So? I’m sure the two of you can agree on a time that works best for both of you.”
You were still looking at him, waiting for him to look at you, but the chances of that became slimmer and slimmer with every passing moment.
He shrugged. “Guess so.”
“Anyway,” Gemma started and you were thankful for the change in subject. “Isla might have a boyfriend now.” There was a teasing tone in her voice and you could tell from the look on your sister’s face that she was slightly embarrassed.
You pinched her arm. “Isla, what? And you didn’t tell me?”
“Well, you’ve been busy with…” Her eyes flickered to Harry behind you, “things. And he’s not even my boyfriend.”
“Being exclusive is him being your boyfriend, you idiot.” Gemma said.
Isla stuck her tongue out a Gemma like a child as both Anne and your mum started asking a million questions. When you looked over and saw that Harry was on his phone once again, you sighed before refilling your glass.
“Should I place the order now?” You interrupted and your mom nodded as she slid the notepad with everyone’s order across the island.
It was still kind of early, so you planned on scheduling for a bit later, but you didn’t want to stand next to Harry anymore. Placing the order would allow you at least a few moments away from him.
You brought the notepad and your wine over to the living room where your laptop sat at the coffee table and sat on the sofa. You managed to put the entire thing in without a single glance at Harry, which was a feat.
Just as you were closing your laptop, he appeared next to you with his card between his fingers. “Here, I’ve got it.”
You shook your head. “S’fine. I paid already.”
“Oh. I would’ve—“
“I know. S’okay.” You said as you sat back into the couch and took a sip from your glass.
“You’re wearing the sweater.” He said.
You looked down. “Mhmm.”
“Some things really don’t change.”
“And some do.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.
He scratched the back of his neck, but before he could say anything, Anne had called to him. “Harry, Jeff’s calling!”
You sent him a small smile before he walked away.
Harry thanked the delivery guy for the food and handed him a much bigger tip than was probably necessary, but he needed to assuage some of his guilt for not paying for dinner. He brought it over to the dining room table where everyone one else was busy getting settled.
You walked over to where Harry was and helped him pull everything out of the bags. Once everything was out, you located yours and walked to sit at the other end of the table—and, against his better judgment, Harry grabbed his and followed you. He took the seat next to yours, but still didn’t say a word to you.
It took a lot of effort to be cold with you. Of course he wanted to talk to you and pay attention to you, but he couldn’t let all of it go so easily. He couldn’t let you walk all over him or think that they way you decided to leave things last night was okay.
He wondered if you had thought about him at all, about the situation. He wondered if that’s why you hadn’t slept much the night before. He hoped you had worked it out and wanted you to talk to him about it, but you were stubborn and he knew you would have to fight yourself to make that happen.
Harry wouldn’t let himself talk to you, but he allowed himself the comfort of being near you. He stared down at his fries while you told a story about how on one of your first days of work, you accidentally jammed the dinosaur that was the copy machine and ended up in a pile of papers after you fixed it, because you had hit the wrong button and increased the printing speed. According to you, it was the most embarrassingly cliche situation and Harry loved it.
He flinched when he felt something land on his thigh and tried not to react when he saw that it was your hand. You had decided to use his leg for leverage as you reached forward to grab one of the bottles towards the center of the table. Isla handed you the opener, which was a new electric one and you struggled more than once to get the cork out.
Harry grabbed the wine bottle from where you had it nestled between your legs. “Here, let me.” He said as he motioned for the opener. You handed it to him and watched in defeat as he got it open on the first try. “Think you’re better off stayin’ away from any kind of machinery, love.”
Harry could feel the blush on his cheeks after he said it and immediately kicked himself for his lack of resolve. He only felt a little bit better about the slip when he saw the shy smile on your face. He needed to talk to you—but you would have to talk first.
He reached over and stole one of your fries despite having a whole mound of his own. He rejoined the conversation that was happening around the table before refilling his glass and then handing you the bottle.
There were no more purposeful or accidental touches during dinner and Harry hadn’t looked at you once. Well, he did afterwards, and he could see the lingering hurt on your face and he was sure it was from the fact that he had ignored you the entire time after letting a pet name slip, but he didn’t know hat else to do. He couldn’t be normal with you and let you think that everything that happened could be forgotten. He couldn’t forget it.
He knew you had feelings for him—or he at least had a gut feeling you did, but for some reason you wouldn’t say it. You wouldn’t let him know that what he felt was reciprocated. He needed to hear you say that he had always been someone to you too and until you could do that, he couldn’t act the way he wanted to with you.
If you wanted to talk, if you wanted things to be normal or better than normal, then you needed to speak up. It was really up to you whether things between the two of you advanced or stopped all together. Harry was sure that after this year, just hooking up and pretending that’s all it was wouldn’t be an option anymore.
He felt you behind him as he dropped his plate in the sink and when he turned around, you were staring at him with a nervous look on your face. He looked at you expectantly.
“Uh, do you mind if—“ His phone ringing cut you off.
When he pulled it out, his ex-girlfriend’s name flashed across the screen. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this.” He said and you barely smiled before he walked away.
You watched him walk into the living room and sit on the couch.
“I can’t believe he answered that.” Gemma said as she poured herself more wine. When your brow furrowed, she explained. “Jamie. He dated her for a bit before he went to film the movie. She’s awful and a bit pretentious, if I’m honest. She called before when he was talking to you but I declined it.”
You sighed. “Fucking hell.”
Gemma held out the bottle and you took it before turning around and walking towards the stairs.
Once you were in your room, you kicked the clothes over that were on your floor and let out another frustrated sigh. You knew you needed to talk to him and tell him everything you had figured out the night before, but every time you thought you had the chance, it was taken away. On the couch, his phone rang. In the kitchen, his phone rang—and he answered a call from an ex. Should you even be telling him? Did it change anything he said last night?
Isla would tell you that you were being dramatic and overthinking everything and she would probably be right. So what if he answered a call from his ex girlfriend? He told you last night that he had feelings for you. That’s what you should’ve been focusing on. You weren’t going to let your brain talk you out of something that you should’ve done years ago.
You clutched the bottle to your chest before plopping down at the edge of your bed. With a frustrated groan, you slid down the side and landed with your butt on the floor and your knees pulled up to your chest.
Harry rubbed his fingers over his eyes in irritation. He regretted answering the call, but needed to. Jamie still had several of his things that he wanted back and had left her three messages asking when she would be back in London to pick them up.
Of course, she couldn’t just text him an answer and she couldn’t lead with that over the phone. She had to ask how his holiday was, what he was doing, who he was with. Then she had to ask if he thought about her at all—he didn’t, but lied in the hopes that it would speed everything up. It didn’t. She went on about how she thought of him all the time and how she regretted the way they ended things; she told Harry that she loved him...and he realized that he didn’t feel that way at all. What he didn’t tell her was that he knew exactly who he wanted, who he had feelings for, but she was in a different city, probably not thinking about him at all.
The conversation lasted almost forty minutes and regretted every single second of it. At least he finally knew when he could pick up his favorite pair of sweats and his Joni Mitchell record.
His brow furrowed when he entered the kitchen, where everyone was still crowded around the island except for you. He knew exactly what you were going to ask as you started asking it and he hated that he had cut you off. You had been ready to talk and he might’ve ruined his chances completely.
He caught Gemma’s eye and she pointed a finger upstairs. Of course, you had gone upstairs. He ran a hand through his hair and considered whether or not he wanted to follow you. He knew he probably wouldn’t have to force you into talking, since you had been ready only a little bit ago, but he didn’t know if he was ready.
He sighed as he shoved his phone into his pocket and turned towards the stairs.
Harry stepped into your open doorway and leaned his shoulder against the frame as he shoved his hands in his pockets. You were sat against the side of your bed with your knees pulled up to your chest. Your arms were crossed on the top of your knees and your chin was rested on your forearm.
“Hi.” You said.
“Can we talk?” You asked.
“Sure.” Harry pushed himself off the frame and walked towards you as you dropped your arms from their position. He sat on your left and extended his legs out in front of him. He crossed his ankles and held his hand out.
You handed him the bottle and sighed. “I’m sorry about last night. I-I shouldn’t have ended it like that. I just kind of freaked out.”
“Why?” He asked after taking a swig.
“Because you were wrecking everything.”
“How was that—“
You took the bottle back. “Just let me talk, okay? I’m just drunk enough where I think I can get it all out.”
“I have worked so fucking hard to put distance between us. Of course, I had feelings for you. I literally cried when you left that first time—and, like, the four times after that.”
Oh, he thought. So, that was what your sister had been talking about. “I didn’t—“ He stopped talking when you glared at him.
“But I didn’t want to stop doing what we were doing because it was fun and I liked you and, like, how much could once a year hurt? Well, apparently, it could hurt a lot.” You laughed lightly. “So, I needed distance. It’s not that I didn’t want to call you or text you or talk to you. It’s that I couldn’t. I put us and what we did in a tiny little box and that box stayed in on place—here, during this time of year and it didn’t move. It made all of it easier.”
You took another swig. “I started using that fact that you left every year as a reason for being so cold to you. I didn’t care that you had to, I didn’t care that it was your job and deep down I knew that you weren’t doing it to hurt me—you probably didn’t even know that it did, but it helped me keep that tiny box sealed shut.”
Harry grabbed the bottle.
“When you told me last night that you had feelings for me, that you think you always have, you tore open that fucking box and it was just…mess. It still is, if I’m honest. I had really convinced myself that you didn’t have any kind of feeling for me. I mean, I know you care about me, but like, I thought of it in a friend way. I never thought it could be more than that. Maybe that was just me being stupid and it probably was, but it helped me get over the fact that I’ve liked you since we were fifteen—on and off and, like, sometimes I swore I hated you, but the crush was always there, you know?”
“Mhmm.” Harry was listening intently, trying to understand. It made sense to him. Everything you were saying explained your behavior last night and explained your adamance to everything he had tried to do the past few days.
It never occurred to him that you thought he could never have feelings for you—he was so sure that you at least had to have an inkling. Why else would you still be doing what you were doing?
“But you were right last night. You wouldn’t be doing this if there wasn’t something there. This would’ve ended a long time ago.”
You sighed. “You’re not nothing to me, Harry. You have never been nothing to me.”
“Did you really not tell me you moved to London because you thought I wouldn’t care?”
“London is not our box.” You said as he handed you the bottle.
“It could be.” He held up his hand. “Not a box. No more of those, but…you know what I mean.”
He watched as you pulled your lip between your teeth. “I really want to believe that, but it feels so complicated.”
Harry tugged on your hand. “C’mere.” He pulled you and motioned for you to sit on his lap facing him, with your knees on either side of his hips.
“It’s not complicated, babe. I want you. That’s it. I’ve got feelings for you, I want to be with you. There’s nothing complicated about that.”
“And then what happens when you go on tour or go back to LA. What happens when you leave?”
He shrugged. “I come home. To you.”
“I’ll solve it.” He said confidently.
“What if I love you?” Your voice was soft.
Harry’s brow raised slightly in surprise at the same time he felt the butterflies launch themselves around his stomach.
You shook your head. “Sorry, I—“
Harry shot forward and placed his lips on yours. His left hand held your jaw while his right arm was wrapped tightly around your waist. He sighed when he felt you melt into him. You moved your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in the hair at the back of his head.
He nipped at your bottom lip, prompting you to part them so he could slip his tongue into your mouth. You tasted sweet like the wine you had been drinking and Harry wanted more. He pulled you closer to him so he could kiss you deeper and you tugged lightly on his hair, causing a quiet moan to roll in his throat.
He moved his lips to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then down your neck until he could kiss your chest. He sucked at the delicate skin hard enough to leave a mark and then did it again when you whimpered.
You rolled your hips over his and he held in a groan while he dotted kisses back up your neck. He pulled his legs under him and held onto you tightly as he transitioned you so that you were on the floor on your back. You reached out and pushed the door closed, but when it didn’t close all the way, Harry broke your kiss and sat up to push it hard enough that it shut.
He returned to you quickly and placed his lips on yours. You slipped your hands under his jumper to feel his skin and he sighed into the kiss. Harry continued to hold your jaw as he kissed you, not ready to focus on anywhere else yet.
His brow furrowed in pleasure when you bit his lip and he covered the small smile on your lips with another kiss. He untucked your jumper from your jeans before dipping his right hand underneath and brushing his fingertips over your sides.
When you tugged at his jumper, which was your signal that you wanted it off, he pulled away. “Bed?” He whispered.
You shook your head. “S’too loud.”
He smirked before sitting his knees and pulling his shirt off. Before he moved back down, he pulled yours off to and roamed his eyes over your chest which was covered by baby blue lace. He dipped his head down and kissed around the lace cups before swiping his tongue over your nipple and sucking it lightly through the thin material.
You whimpered and cradled his head in your hands, not wanting him to stop. He moved on the to other one and repeated his actions while you twirled your finger around a lock of his hair.
He kissed his way back up your neck. You slipped your hands between your bodies and started undoing the fastening of his pants and he didn’t protest. As he kissed you, you pushed him off his hips as far as you could and then pushed Harry away from you slightly. He sat up and pulled his pants the rest of the way down and then off.
He undid the button of your jeans and then pulled down the zipper. Harry tugged the denim down your hips as you lifted them and wiggled them out in order to help.
Once you were both left in your underwear, he climbed back on top of you and hovered on his elbows. He pushed his hips into yours and you sighed, enjoying the friction but needing more of it. When he did it again, you rolled your hips against his which added more pressure and pulled soft moans from the both of you.
Harry brushed his fingers over your shoulder and pulled down the strap of your bra slowly. You arched your back so he could get his hand underneath and undo the hooks of your bra. He pulled it off on the right side and you pulled it off the rest of the way before pulled him down so hie full weight was on top of you. You wanted to feel his skin on yours.
While he kissed your neck, he dropped his left hand to your hip where he tugged at the band of your panties. He wanted them off. He wanted to taste you again.
Harry trailed kisses down your throat, between your breasts, and over your belly button until the thin material got in the way. He pulled your panties down slowly and tossed the to the side. You let your legs fall open for him as he nestled himself between them. He looped his left hand under your leg and placed his palm flat against your stomach to hold you down. He looped his right arm under your other leg and placed his palm on your thigh.
Harry licked flat against your folds and held you in place when you tried to roll your hips against his tongue, already needy for more. When he flicked his tongue over your clit, you moaned rather loudly, causing Harry to lift his head from between your thighs.
“Shh, baby. Gotta stay quiet.”
You nodded and brushed a hand through his hair as he moved back down. He dipped the tip of his tongue into your center and collected your wetness before dragging his tongue up and circling around your clit.
Your moans were breathy since you were trying to keep them as quiet as you possibly could. Your back arched off the carpet when Harry drew circles around the small bud continuously, slowly. When he started to move his tongue faster, one hand gripped his curls tightly, while the other went over your own mouth.
You pushed your hips into his mouth and he sucked on your clit. Thankfully, you hand muffled the long moan you let out when he did it the second time.
When he pushed his tongue through your folds, you dropped the hand from your mouth and let it join the other one in his hair.
“Fuck, right there.” You said when he flicked his tongue directly over your clit.
Harry moaned when you pulled harshly on his curls because you wanted more pressure. Once he gave it to you, your hips began to roll against his tongue, but he didn’t stop his movements. He tried to hold you down by your stomach, but couldn’t.
Your eyes squeezed shut as a hushed curse fell from your lips. He could feel your legs start to shake and he knew you were close. He made sure not to change his movements and let you ride his tongue in whatever way you wanted. You rolled your hips slowly as his name fell from your lips.
“I’m…” You whimpered. “I’m gonna come.”
Harry watched as your back arch far off the carpet and you tried extremely hard to stay quiet. Your face was contorted in pleasure: your eyes were shut tight, your mouth was open and your chest was rising and falling rapidly. He licked you through your orgasm and didn’t stop until you let go of his hair and pulled your leg from his grasp.
He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand kissed the inside of your thigh.
“C’mere.” You said. When he got to his knees and moved to hover over you, you placed your foot against his chest. Your eyes flickered down. “Take those off.”
Harry smirked before pulling off his underwear. Once they were laying next to yours, he crawled back on top of you and hovered over you. You reached your hand down and pumped his cock a few times, but stopped when he grabbed your wrist.
“Ready?” He asked and you nodded.
He lined himself up and pushed in quickly, causing you to gasp.
“Fuck, baby,” he sighed. He stayed there for a moment and gave you a second to adjust before he started moving. When you started to moan, he muffled them with a kiss.
Harry’s tongue moved over yours as he rolled his hips into yours. His brow furrowed and he dropped his face into your neck and attempted to muffle his groan. Your nails were digging into his back and his lips ghosted over the skin of your throat.
He pushed himself up and draped your right leg over his shoulder before hovering over you again, but using his hands to hold himself up. Your eyes fluttered shut while you gripped onto his forearms. He was deep, bottoming out inside of you with every thrust.
Harry pushed his hips into yours harder and the first few times you enjoyed it—and then you started to feel the rug burn.
He mistook it for a moan.
You tapped his arm. “Harry…ow.”
He pulled out immediately and placed his hand on your cheek. “What’s wrong, babe?”
You sat up on your elbows. “I think I’m getting rug burn.”
Harry sent you a lopsided smile before he sat back against your bed. “C’mere.” He held his hand out to you and you grabbed it. He pulled you back onto his lap so you could ride him.
As you sunk down, he ran his hands over the skin of your back, and sure enough, he could feel how hot it was—even tiny indents from it’s texture. He moved his nails over the sensitive skin and you shivered.
You lifted your hips and fell back down and let out a low moan. Harry dropped his head against the bed and locked his eyes with yours. He watched your face as you moved up and down on his cock and placed his hands firmly on your ass, giving it a squeeze every time you came down.
Knowing what you needed to come a second time, he pushed your hips forward when you came down. When he did it a second time, you continued to do what he wanted and started grinding your hips forward.
Your forehead fell against Harry’s as quiet moans mingled between the two of you. When you snapped your hips forward, he let out a rather loud groan and you placed your lips on his to silence him.
“Slow, baby. Please go slow.” He asked once his forehead was back against yours.
You did what he asked and moved at what, for you, was an agonizingly pace.
The friction on your clit was causing your belly to tighten for the second time and your body begged you to speed up, but you knew that if you did, Harry wouldn’t last.
Your orgasm built slowly. Your chest began to rise and fall quickly and your nails were digging into Harry’s shoulders. His hands were sitting on your hips and he gripped you tightly as his eyes fluttered in pleasure.
You wanted more friction so you began to grind against him harder and snapping your hips forward more harshly than before.
“Fucking hell…” Harry sighed as he dug his fingertips into your sides.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“Please, baby. C’mon.”
When your orgasm began to roll through your body, Harry placed a hand on the back of your head and pulled you into his neck. Your moans were loud—you couldn’t help it—and he hoped that his shoulder was enough to muffle them.
You bit lightly on his shoulder as you rode out your orgasm and his body shook at the sensation. He kept his hand on the back of your head and held your body to his as your movements became slow and sloppy. Your chest was heaving and you were trying to regain your breath as you came down.
Harry placed a kiss to your head before asking in your ear, “Think you can make me come, love?”
You lifted your head and kissed his lips as you started to move your hips again.
You sped up your movements and his hands were back on your hips gripping them harshly. You placed your elbows on his shoulders and let your hands drop into his hair.
A few moments later he pulled you against him again and let out a soft curse. “I’m gonna come.” He lifted you up right before he finished all over your folds.
You kissed his forehead as he tried to regain his breath and then climbed off of him. You fell to the floor in a tired heap and he smiled at you before joining you.
“You know…” You said in between breaths. “You never answered my question.” You rolled your head to the side to look at him and found that he was already staring at you.
“Well, what if I love you, too?”
804 notes · View notes
hey love!:) could you do a smut where the reader and George are each other’s first time and it’s super sweet! if not that’s okay:) thank youuuuu
hello my love, thank you for your request!! This is so so sweet 🥺 i hope you enjoy
a/n: i made this take place in a treehouse at the burrow (which i made up lol there wasn’t one) bc... idk i just thought it would be cute. so yeah
a/n two: i’ve never written smut like this,,,, tried to make it all soft idk it may be cringe oops i dont think my style’s pretty enough for this lol
George Weasley x Fem!Reader. Loss of virginity, fingering, penetrative sex, soft sex, praise, light dirty talk, porn with feelings.
You push yourself up off the last rung of the ladder, accepting George’s outstretched hand as he pulls you into the small, cozy structure of the treehouse. You look around, a small smile dancing on your lips as you take in the wood floor and walls, the array of posters adorning them, the small worn rug, the fairy lights. As your eyes land on the sheeted mattress in the corner made up sweetly with pillows and blankets you can feel George’s anxious gaze on you.
“I know it isn’t much, I tried to clean it up and make it as nice as I could since it will probably be the only place we can get some privacy this summer and-“ you cut off the boy’s nervous rambling with a tip-toed peck to his lips, arms snaking around his neck.
“It’s wonderful, Georgie.” You say it genuinely, heart swelling with adoration as you take in the lovely space your boyfriend worked to make for you. “It’s cozy and cute and you’re so sweet for doing this for me.” You can feel his shoulders relax, his eyes lose that desperation as they melt to meet your warm ones.
“Really? Merlin, I’m so glad you think so. I just wanted somewhere for the two of us, y’know?” He murmurs, fingers coming up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. You nod, smiling up at the boy, heart thrumming at his freckled cheeks and crooked nose and kind eyes as if you’re seeing them for the first time all over again.
You can’t resist the urge to lean up once more, lips connecting to his tenderly, and your head swims at the sensation. His soft lips moving against yours with a practiced ease, his tongue running along your lower lip before sliding inside the cavern of your mouth, his flavor swirling upon your taste buds, warm and sweet. It’s both comfortingly familiar and something you’ll never get used to, no matter how many times you do it.
The kiss deepens, his tongue exploring further into your mouth, his large hands coming to rest on your hips, rubbing over them in a soothing, sensual motion that has you releasing breathy sounds into his lips. Too soon he’s pulling away, warm breath ghosting over your slack mouth as he speaks.
“What do you want, angel? How far do you wanna go?” he murmurs softly, gently, genuine eyes searching yours for any semblance of hesitation or doubt. Desire burns fiercely within you, making your chest tight and your pussy tingle.
“I want it all, Georgie, wanna go all the way.” comes your breathed out response, sparkling eyes meeting his with hopeful anticipation. He grins down at you, leaning down to place a brief, gentle kiss to the pillows of your lips.
“Me too.” is all he says before his lips are on your neck, kissing and sucking and nipping lightly, pulling soft mewls from your throat. Then his fingers find the hem of your shirt, tugging upwards until he’s forced to pull away to get the garment over your head. As fast as he can he has it off of you and tossed to the floor and is attaching his lips to your jugular once more.
Large, calloused hands come up to palm your clothed breasts, and the sensation coupled with his erotic treatment to your neck has a slew of lewd whines falling from your slack lips. His mouth pulls back just barely, positioning itself by your ear.
“That feel good, baby? You like when I touch you here?” he murmurs lowly, breath tickling the shell of your ear, words tickling your brain. You nod eagerly, hands moving down from around his neck to slide up under his shirt, fingertips trailing over his toned chest. He takes the hint, hands leaving your breasts to swiftly raise the shirt up off his torso and toss it in the same general direction he tossed yours moments ago.
His lips find yours again as his fingers work efficiently on the fly of your jeans, your head swimming with his intoxicating flavor as his tongue caresses every inch of your inner cheeks, the roof of your mouth, each of your teeth. Before you know it he’s pulling your pants down, exposing your matching panties. He crouches down, the garment pooling at your ankles for you to step out of.
“Lie down on the mattress, angel.” George murmurs, the words a bit too gentle to be an order, as he stands back to full height and starts on removing his own trousers. You eagerly comply. Clad in only your underwear you make your way to the mattress, moving a couple pillows aside to give yourself more room. You watch George intently as you lay down on your back and he steps out of his pants, a prominent bulge evident in his simple boxer briefs. You struggle to tear your gaze away from it to find his brown irises; but when you do, they’re sparkling with amusement.
“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He teases lightly, a small grin adorning his features. The words make heat rise to your cheeks, and you shift slightly in embarrassment, looking away from him. He coos.
“No need to be embarrassed, love. I’m enjoying the view myself.” He admits, a smile no longer audible in his voice. You look up anxiously, but find that replacing his sly grin is a hungry, lusty expression as his eyes rake over your underwear clad form, sprawled out on the mattress before him. Renewed heat rushes to the apples of your cheeks. He approaches you then, sinking down to cover your body with his and attaching his lips to yours once more.
You moan into his mouth as his hand finds your breast, but then he’s pulling away, tongue darting out to lick his spit wet lips before asking “can I take that off for you, angel?” You hastily nod, the both of you sitting up a bit to give him room to snake his hands behind you. They fiddle clumsily with the clasp of your bra for but a moment before it’s coming undone, and you quickly toss the item of clothing aside. George’s eyes are wide and twinkling as they take in your breasts. You lay back and his hands follow you down, calloused palms covering the supple flesh as he gives your tits a soft squeeze. You let out a breathy sound at the intimate sensation, eyes downcast to watch as his fingers knead and massage your chest.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful” he breathes out, looking up at you with a darkened gaze, warm brown irises now reduced to a narrow ring, almost fully engulfed by his blown pupils. “More than beautiful. Perfect, baby, you’re perfect.” His words make your heart thrum in your chest and your mind swim with adoration, but before you can reciprocate his sentiment he’s crashing forward, enveloping your lips in yet another heated kiss.
Your mouths move against each other sloppily, tongues delving deep into one another’s warm caverns, and George’s large hands run sensually over your breasts and sides and down to your hips. With his touch and his scent and his low groans you feel entirely surrounded by him. Every sense is engaged, every nerve buzzing, you’re overwhelmed by George in this moment and nothing else in the world matters. You’ve never felt closer to another person before, and he isn’t even inside you yet. You want more.
With that realization your eyes snap open and you push lightly at George’s shoulders until he begrudgingly separates his mouth from yours. His panting breaths ghost over your lips as you say “please, Georgie. Please fuck me.”
His breath hitches at your words and his eyes widen slightly. There’s a brief pause as he composes himself before he says “Of course, angel. Gonna make you feel so good.”
He moves down your body, hands running over your sides to your hips where his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He slowly pulls them down and his eyes follow, hungrily trailing over the skin as it’s exposed to him. You feel slightly uneasy under his intense gaze, but as he looks at your pussy with nothing but lust and breathes out a low, raspy “fuck”, your nerves begin to melt away. You squirm in anticipation, letting out a desperate whine.
“Please, George, I need you.” You mewl, looking down at him with a pleading expression as you bend your knees, allowing him to get your underwear fully off your legs and toss them aside with the rest of your clothes.
“I know baby, I need you too. Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, can’t wait to feel you.” He murmurs. You’ve never heard his voice like this- it’s even lower than his usual deep baritone, the notes reverberating in a near growl from his chest, mingling with a pleasant raspiness as they leave his throat- and you can’t get enough of it.
His thumbs find the waistband of his briefs and he pulls them down swiftly, lifting off one knee then the other to get them down his legs and to the floor, topping off the pile of discarded clothing. Your eyes are blown wide as you watch his member as it bobs against his abdomen- hard and leaking and merlin, are they all that big? To your dismay, George catches your shocked expression, as evident by the low chuckle he lets out before he spits into his hand, using the fluid to easily fist over his length. Your eyes follow the motion intently.
“Don’t worry, angel, I’ll get you nice and ready for me.” His hand abandons his cock after a mere four strokes- but who was counting?- and instead moves to your center, his other coming to rest on your thigh. His thumb makes soothing motions on the skin there as he swipes two fingers through your folds, feeling the wetness gathered there, and that alone is enough to have your hips bucking and a broken moan tearing from your lips.
“Mm, you’re so wet baby” he breathes out as he pushes forward, slowly sheathing his fingers into you, the action made easy by your slickness. You let out another moan, hands gripping at the sheets tightly as his fingers stretch you just slightly. It feels amazing, his fingers are so much thicker than yours and they’re long enough to reach depths you’ve never managed to reach yourself.
“Fuck, that feels so good.” you gasp out, voice strained from the intense pleasure coursing through you as George’s fingers caress your inner walls. “Your fingers feel so much better than mine” you murmur almost absentmindedly, voicing the thought you had just moments ago. George groans softly at the admittance, fingers pumping in and out of you steadily as he holds down your thigh, keeping your trembling legs spread.
“Yeah? Well, you can have my fingers from now on, angel. And my mouth, and my cock, whatever you want. Gonna make you feel good whenever you need me.” He muses, looking up from your pussy to give you a glimpse of his heated, adoring eyes. Your heart swells at his words and arousal swirls in your belly.
“Mm, thank you Georgie. Oh gods-“ your words are cut off by a moan as you throw your head back, back arching at the sensation of George’s crooked fingers sponging over your g-spot.
“Mm, that the spot, angel? Right there?” He repeats the motion, sending bursts of pleasure through you, and you moan again, head rocking in a desperate nod.
“Yes, George, right there!” You gasp out the response, eyes squeezed shut at the intense sensation your boyfriend’s fingers are providing. You’re dripping wet and pulsing around them, and you can feel yourself heading towards your release. But this isn’t how you want to cum.
“Stop, George, ‘m close. I wanna cum with you.” You breathe out, reaching down to grab George’s wrist and effectively halt his movements. He looks up at you, eyes full of love and lust and everything in between.
“Bloody hell, angel, that sounds fucking perfect. You sure you’re ready for me?” He murmurs, brows knitting in a genuine show of concern, needing reassurance that this is what you want.
“Yes, George, I’m so ready. I need you so badly” you murmur, gazing down at him with a look of adoration to match his own. He smiles, pulling his fingers out of you and moving back up your body to press a sweet kiss to your lips.
As your mouth moves against his you feel something blunt against your entrance- wider and warmer than his fingers had felt. You gasp against his lips as he pushes forward, sheathing himself slowly inside your tight heat. The stretch is incredible- any semblance of pain minuscule compared to the indescribable pleasure that being slowly filled by your lover’s cock brings. You let out matching moans, swallowing each other’s sounds as you move together, mind and body and spirit totally synchronized and working as one.
You’re raising your hips to meet his slow, deep thrusts, mouth never leaving his as his cock enters and leaves you, his hands running over the skin of your shoulders and chest sensually. You feel more complete than you could ever imagine- like the boy atop you is that last piece you needed to finally be completely, undoubtedly whole and in that moment you know you could never, ever be without him again.
“I love you.” the words spill from his lips to yours, landing on your tongue and bleeding into your heart as you open your eyes to find his visage just inches from yours.
“I love you too” you breathe out, the flame of love in your chest growing along with the flame of desire in your belly as George’s cock prods at your g-spot and his pubic bone drags over your clit with every thrust.
The moment is perfect: George’s hips begin to stutter as your walls begin to tighten, your broken moans come out in tandem as your hips continue to roll against one another. And then, in the same split second, ecstasy overtakes you both.
The feeling is transcendent, every nerve ignited in pure pleasure, heart and pussy full while your mind is blissfully empty. You’re completely lost to the moment, completely lost to George, entirely unaware of anything beyond what you’re feeling- how he makes you feel.
As you both come down from your euphoric peaks your panting breaths create a melodious symphony in the otherwise silent treehouse. His balmy form is flush against yours- not crushing, his elbows still support the brunt of his weight- as your chests heave together.
You bring a hand up to brush back his mop of sweaty ginger locks, fingertips dancing along his scalp in a soothing motion that he returns with a gentle kiss to your cheek.
“That was incredible.” You finally say, lamely, you think, as the words come nowhere close to expressing the utter perfection of what you just experienced. They seem to be enough for George, however, as a dopey smile breaks out on his sweet face.
“Absolutely incredible.” He echoes, forehead coming down to lean against yours as you gaze into each other’s eyes.
You want to say something more- you think for a moment you have to, you have to tell him how much this means to you, how much he means to you. But as you gaze into his warm brown eyes, and he gazes into yours, you realize words are entirely unnecessary.
tags: @whizzbeesdukes @sweetlyblushedboquet @snapesdaughsjm @kyleed24 @woman-with-no-name @pxroxide-prinxcesss @randomoutsiders @fandom-puff @spxllcxstxr @frecklesandfirecrackers @layaaaa @wholebigboxofyikes @fific7 @love-peachh
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Cold, Cold Shower
A/n: Here is another TikTok fic yall
Warning: Implied smut(No actual smut) 😀
WC: (668) I always forget to write it lol
Summary: You tried following the TikTok trend in which you drop ice on your boyfriend while he's taking a shower.
¨Hey peeps, today I will be dumping ice on Tom while he's in the shower¨You spoke to the camera taking the ice out from the freezer.
¨ Tom just got in the shower right now, so this should work out perfectly¨You said as you stopped recording. You grabbed the bucket full of ice and made your way to the master bedroom you and Tom shared. Walking with the ice you opened the door to the bathroom, one hand holding the bucket and the other your phone.
¨Hey babe?¨You asked as you walked into the bathroom and press record.
¨What?¨Tom asked from the other side of the curtain.
¨How much longer till you are out of the shower baby?¨ You continued to ask as you placed a stool for your feet in front of the curtain.
¨How about you come in and join me. I'll show you how long my shower can get to be, hmmm what about that¨He asked with a devilish grin and you laughed at the camera, blushing at the thought of the whole internet knowing about your sex life. ¨Come join me darling¨ he asked again
¨I love you¨You told him as you took a step in the stool ready to dump the whole bucket of ice over him.
¨No seriously my love, come here am not joking anymore¨ He stated serious, and you laughed a little to disguise your evil plan.
¨Ok hold on¨You positioned the ice about to dump it
¨Yayyyy¨ He cheered at what he had accomplished and you started to feel bad about ruining his happiness, you took a breath and dumped the ice on him without thinking about it anymore.
¨Ah, AHHH WHAT IS THAT WHA-¨He screamed and held on to the curtain so hard it fell off along with him. ¨HUUHHHHH WHAT?¨ he laughed confused
¨Are you okay?¨you were laughing so hard you were sure you had peed your pants. You faced the camera laughing with your hand in your mouth. Your body covering Tom´s naked one from the camera. Tom kept laughing along with you to the point where both of you felt like you were growing a sixpack. Tom, still covering up with the curtain asked,
¨Baby, what was that for¨ He was calming down from all the laughter
¨It was for a TikTok, I didn't know you were going to die midway tho¨ You kept laughing with the empty bucket in your hand. ¨Oh my God, am so sorry baby¨Yep, you kept laughing and Tom decided to join you again.
¨Dont worry, just help me with the shower curtain- AHHH AM BLEEDING¨He screamed taken by surprise
¨OMG YOUR BLEEDING TOM? ARE YOU A PIECE OF PAPER BABY?¨You asked sarcastically holding the curtain into place again.
¨My love you know I break easily¨ and you guys started laughing again and someone opened the door, it was Harry.
¨Are you guys alive, did someone die?¨ He asked concerned about the whole scenario.
¨Yeah yeah I just fell¨Tom explained
¨Doing what?- Are you okay ¨Haz interrupted Harry ¨Yeah man they were probably trying a new sex position or something and almost end up dying.¨ Harry and Haz looked at each other ¨Again¨the both said
¨Omg that was one time, it was an in the moment thing¨ Tom complained
¨Yeah but did you really have to? In the garden bro? in that position?¨ Harry asked about that one time during quarantine you and Tom had a fun time in the garden at night, and well you got caught.
¨It is kind of a fire postion¨Haz said disagreeing with Harry
¨We weren't fucking you pervs, I dumped ice on Tom¨ You shrugged as you heard how weird that sounded.
¨Oh now that is going to be an interesting story, go on¨
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