Gangrry TE AMO

GRACIAS UMA X TANTO TE AMO

on september 29, the since forever universe turned one year old and there are already more than 100 things written about them, all thanks to you <3

yes, i'm the one who writes, but the ideas are yours, so i always say that we, together, create them.

i wanted to make a special of them so i decided to dedicate a whole week to post blurbs!

hope you like them, see you every day 🫶!

━━━━━

monday 7: Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Styles Make 'Daylight' Music Video for $300 for The Late Late Show w/ James Corden. (fluff) (2022) → AVAILABLE NOW!

tuesday 8: That pic of LOT Munich. (smut, fluff) (2022) → AVAILABLE NOW!

wednesday 9: The first fight blurb. (angst, fluff) (2010) → AVAILABLE NOW!

thursday 10: MSG night 6 and the announcement of Midnights (smut, fluff) (2022)

friday 11: Harry gets Y/N's name tattooed on him, and she does something too. (fluff) (2013)

saturday 12: Harry Styles and girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N read thirst tweets about her. (fluff, sexual themes) (2019)

sunday 13: The first date blurb. (fluff) (2010)

monday 14: Special surprise. (?) (?)

Our Little Love part three - mafia/soft Yandere au Drabble

I wrote it, I deleted it, I wrote it again and now... I shall sleep {angst + fluff}

“Hyung we’re pushing her away,” Jungkook voiced his concerns to their leader, standing in the middle of the room facing him.

The seven of them are in their weekly meeting in Namjoon’s office, he sat on a chair that resembled more of a throne throne behind an even grander desk, the rest of them scattered around the room, leaning against the walls. You would normally be there with them either sat on Namjoon’s lap or standing with the guys, one of them always found a way to keep you close to them. Tae’s favourite way was to bear hug you from the back, his arms and chest felt empty with your absence.

“I get it, we’re scared, terrified, so this is us going on the defence but I don’t want her to hate us Hyung,” there are tears in the youngest’s eyes, but he blinks them back. “I don’t want us to act like she’s going to break our hearts at any given second when we’re the ones breaking hers.”

“The kid’s got a point,” Jin agreed. “She’s been walking on egg shells since we found out.”

“She asked me if we loved her,” Jungkook says to send the message home.

They all looked at him in disbelief, why would you ever ask that? They were devoted to you, recently they may have distanced themselves but they were healing too. The regret is instant on their faces and they decide its time to really make things right once again.

“Let’s go and apologise,” Yoongi sighs, Hobi and Jimin look at him as if he’s grown a second head, Yoongi never apologised. Even when he knew he was in the wrong, he usually tried to make things right by giving a little more attention but he would never say sorry. It seemed his stubbornness faded when it came to you.

They gather outside your room, nervously clearing their throats before knocking on the door. They were met with silence, no matter how upset you were with them you always answered. They don’t knock again, Namjoon turns the handle, scanning the room, but you were already gone.

——————————————————————————

It had been two months since you left. Time filled with looking over your shoulder, keeping your head low and your face out of sight. You only went out when you needed to, you moved regularly, never staying in a place for more than three days, your skills as a detective paying off with your escape. The paranoia never left though, the thought that they could see you regardless of how far away you were, that they were just toying with you.

You never thought about going back, not because you didn’t want to, but you didn’t want to face their wrath, there was no forgiveness this time. You don’t understand how they could be so hurt and angry with you and yet want you to stay, you don’t understand why they didn’t end it themselves.

You’re flicking through the channels as usual, pretending you’re not going to watch the news, but you inevitably do. You tell yourself it’s to see how close they are to finding you, that it’s not because you want to see or hear about them. In big bold urgent letters as it had been for the last two months: breaking news - BTS strikes again.

“It seems the notorious organisation known as BTS has not ended their recent chaos of terror,” the newscaster sits solemnly staring through the screen at you, she doesn’t have to say it, you know it’s your fault. “The number of break ins to police precincts and safe houses have many put on edge about what they’re after and where they could strike next.”

You know they’re looking for you, trying to coax you out by causing havoc, but at least that meant they hadn’t found you... yet. You wonder when they’ll stop, when you can stop running, when would you become a distant memory to them? When would it stop hurting...

The situation with Kai was the last straw for you, they were never that cruel or unreasonable. You could always get through to them but since the night they found out who you really were, they slowly became unhinged with anything involving you. You caused their darkness to swallow them whole and they succumbed to it. You used to be their light, but honestly you thought you’d be hurting them more if you stayed. You lost them before you decided to leave, you were a fool to think it would be alright.

It’s 9pm but you need to get out and get some air again, away from the tv, away from the thoughts of them that beckoned you to go back. You slip on the grey hoodie, subtly trying to smell it to see if his smell was still on there, but after two months there was no trace of maknae left. The stricter part of your brain tells you it’s a good thing, it’s proof you’re moving on.

You decide to go for a jog, with the music beating loudly through your headphones you get lost to the world. You don’t notice 7 figures stop dead on the other side of the road.

You looked thinner, your hair was different, they couldn’t even make out your features in the darkness, but they knew it was you.

Jungkook breaks off into a sprint behind you, running for his life, it takes him a matter of seconds before you’re pulled back by your arm, nearly tripping on your own feet.

“Hey wha-” the words die in your throat as you look up at doe eyes filled with tears of fury, you can see your panic reflected in them. You couldn’t go back.

You try to pull out of his grip as you notice six other figures approaching behind them, why did you decide to go out now, why didn’t you just stay inside!

“Jungkook let me go!” Your desperation to escape does nothing to budge his iron clutch. You don’t want to face them, you can’t face them. You can’t help but cry at the helplessness of it all, knowing it was all for nothing, knowing you could never leave again. “Please let me go.”

Your begging falls on deaf ears, they’re too entranced by the fact you’re finally in their grasp, they haven’t laid eyes on you for two months and you wanted to leave again?

You’d prefer it if they screamed back at you, but their silence felt heavy on you, almost as burdening as their gaze. It’s Taehyung’s gaze that pins you to the ground and stops your struggle as he approaches you quicker than the others. You think you can see his jaw clench harder the closer he gets but you’re rooted by your feet, the look on his face telling you you’d regret it if you moved another inch.

They’ve never once hurt you physically but with the intimidating aura he exuded you had to stop your self from flinching, he doesn’t miss the way you nearly do. He’s on you in a second, arms encircled around you with a grip that took every breath out of your lungs. You stand in shock as he breaths you in, form still tense against your own but you don’t miss the sound of relief as he exhales.

“Do you hate us?” His low timbre sounds broken and you want to put your arms around him too, but you don’t. Instead you grip onto the lapel of his long coat and you ground yourself from giving into the feeling of him again. You didn’t realise how much you ached for them until they were back. He can hear you sniffle and holds you tighter, no, he was never going to let you go again, none of them were. “Is that why you left, did we make you hate us?”

You shake your head at his hoarse voice, you know he’s close to tears and the thought has your own falling. You could never hate them, he had to know that.

“Then why did you leave?” His sob shakes his whole chest and you feel every inch of pain you caused. You honestly thought this was better, being away was better but the way he cried against you now had you cursing at yourself for not fighting to make things right. Maybe you thought it was easier to leave then save them. Maybe you were all cowards.

You’re glad your face is buried away from view, youre not ready to face them.

There’s another hand stroking the back of your hair as you and Tae cry against each other, you know it’s Jimin, you can feel the cold rings on his warm fingers. He tries to coax you to look at him, face coming close to you own as you’re still buried in Taehyung’s chest, but you’re scared at what you’ll find if you do.

“He asked you a question, little love,” he murmurs against your hair, closing you in a cocoon of their bodies and scent. “Do you have any idea what you put us through?”

“We thought you were kidnapped, tortured, dead,” Jungkook says harshly, still wearing his anger as a shield against you. “No ransom, no contact, nothing and then it clicks, the love of our lives left.”

“We couldn’t believe it,” Hobi chimes in. “We were devastated, but we knew we were to blame.”

Those words were the ones to pull your head out of the sand and back into the world. You saw the sincerity in his gaze, the sadness. Hobi wasn’t angry, there wasn’t an ounce of it on his face like you expected.

“We let our own insecurities cloud our love for you Y/n,” he continues as the others stay silent. “We meant what we said that night, we could never let you go. We thought it’d all go back to normal but in each of us the doubt grew every time we saw you.”

“Why would she love us?” Yoongi walks into your field of vision with his hands in his pockets but he doesn’t look at you, he looks at the ground reminiscing the thoughts that weighed heavy on their minds. “What if she realises she’s better off without us? What if she decides to leave?”

With his last words he makes eye contact, and it burns you where you stand.

“And then you did little love,” his gaze is still intense but you can still see some softness in it. “And our world came crashing down.”

“We were filled with so much regret,” Jin’s voice comes from behind Taehyung but the taller man’s grip on you is unrelenting. “We cursed ourselves every day and night, thinking it was too late, we lost our little love, and nothing mattered anymore.”

“Except finding you,” Namjoon puts a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder pulling him away from you to see your face. You notice the purple underneath all of their eyes, they’ve lost so much weight, so much strength. “Come back, we’re not asking, we’re not demanding it, we’re begging you little love, give us another chance.”

Tae sobs harder at his leaders words, at the thought you had every right to say no, and where would that leave them? It was physically painful to see your Tae cry, it was as if everything wrong with the world fell on his shoulders and he unleashed it back into the world through his tears. He doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t think he can take it.

“You’re ours, always and forever, in our hearts in our minds, I’m sorry we destroyed that.”

You shake your head at Joon’s words, they were yours too, you could never let them go in your soul. Your hand reaches out to caress his cheek when he frowns at himself.

“Do you still love us?” Tae sniffles.

You nod, you don’t trust your voice. Their hearts feel like they can beat again, you still loved them, there was hope. Jungkook is the only one still wearing wrath as he glares at you, but you know him too well now, you know he’s trying to protect himself.

“Kookie, do you still love me too?” You ask him. He sucks in his cheeks, biting his lips as he fights with himself not to give in, you didn’t say yes to coming back, he’s not letting himself feel hope when you could snatch it away from him. He doesnt care what your answer is anyway, he doesn’t care if you hate them or not, you had to come back.

He’s lying to himself, he couldn’t take it anymore. Just as you buried yourself in Tae, Jungkook comes to stand in front of you, dropping to his knees with a harsh thud against the concrete before pressing his face against your middle. He arms wrap around your thighs, holding you in place as he finally lets out the tears that we’re holding themselves back.

“I can’t live without you,” he whimpers. “I can’t do it, please.”

The youngest bawls as he grips onto you with his hands, the desperation finally breaking through his act. You try to soothe him, fingers stroking his raven locks as he continues to sob uncontrollably. They’d take you back, whether you agreed to it or not, but they prayed you would, Jungkook was right, they couldn’t stand the idea of you hating them. It was almost as bad as you leaving.

You know there was a lot to work to do, a lot of cuts that needed to be healed by both sides. You’d never be able to leave again, you know it, and they could continue as they pleased. What guarantee did you have that they’d keep to their word, that the cycle of hurt and hurting wouldnt continue despite your best efforts.

Joon could see the cascade of doubt and want reign chaos through your eyes, holding you back from giving in to them.

“Little love, we’re fighting with ourselves not to put you over our shoulder and take you home by force, you belong with us,” he confesses, but you already know. “We’ll work on it, we’ll be better not immediately but day by day we’ll love you like we should.”

“We can’t promise we won’t hurt you again little love,” Yoongi stands behind you so you don’t see the vulnerability he feels seeping through his face, he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “We’re still learning what love is, we still don’t think we deserve it,” he chuckles humourlessly and it breaks your heart, they did deserve it, they all did. “But we want it love, we want to deserve it too.”

“Promise me,” you say to them all, “promise that you’ll talk to me, when the doubt and darkness takes over your senses you’ll talk to me, you won’t hide it away.”

“We never hid it from you love,” Hobi frowns, they showed you the worst of them, you knew that.

“I don’t mean the things you did to push me away or test me,” you offer them a small watery smile. “I mean the moments when you think you’re not enough, or you doubt how I feel about you, those stupid thoughts that I have too.

Promise me you’ll talk to me and not give in to those voices because I love all of you with every fibre of my soul, and I’d never take it back.”

Tear stained faces finally smile back at you, Jungkook feels his heart piece itself back together, you were coming back.

“You’re mine too,” you say it proudly. “Let’s go home.”

my baby i love him sm

magnetism

harry never loved halloween night like he did this one. he just wished it could last forever

part one (gravity)

previous part (momentum)

—————

"Is that making any more sense or do y'want to go over it again?"

(Y/N) was trying her hand at transcribing her notes in Harry's fashion, finally using the plain green notebook she'd been carrying around for the last month. She planned on typing them up on her laptop later still, but Harry had said something about handwritten notes retaining better in the mind since it was connected to a muscle memory, or something like that. She was willing to try anything at this point; another failure wasn't much of an option if she planned on passing this course.

"A little," she drawled, gaze pinned on the list of bullet points lining the margin of her notebook, "But, can you go over that formula again—the cen-centri-pedal—I don't know how to say it, but that formula."

An airy laugh was exhaled through Harry's smiling lips before he nodded his head. He started on his second round of explanation, voice soft in their quiet corner of the library. Her eyes pulled from the page in front of her to watch Harry gesticulating beside her. A pale pink blush coated his cheeks as he caught sight of her attentive gaze, forcing (Y/N) to bite back a smile.

She thought it was sweet that he was still so shy around her despite how often they'd been around each other in the last month. The last time they had met up in the back of the library had broken down a layer of the walls separating them, but he still managed to become bashful under her attention. When she'd accidentally brush the back of his hand with her fingertips or bump her shoulder into his while scooting closer to read over the same textbook, he'd stumble over his words or get a stutter caught on his tongue. But, (Y/N) thought the cutest bit was when, for whatever reason be it correcting her notes or showing her a specific passage in the textbook, he needed to get close to her or touch her, he would ask for permission with unwavering eye contact no matter how pink his cheeks blushed. Even when she granted him that clearance, he was shaky and unsure, waiting for her first sign of rejection or shrugging him off. He was very gentle and kind with her, and obviously smart, but he still managed to be unbelievably shy despite it all.

And, (Y/N) was pretty sure she definitely had a crush on him. Talking to Ny about it all—hearing all of those little things about him she adored and the fact that he had dropped everything to be with her—then seeing him, made it all official.

"Did that clear anything up, (Y/N)?"

The sound of his honeyed voice wrapping around her name pulled her from her thoughts, a tint of guilt following after. She hadn't been listening to a single thing he was saying, too wrapped up in watching him rather than paying his words any attention. Besides, it had been a long session today; they'd met up after their last classes at two and the time was just nearing eight at night. How was she supposed to focus on physics when her brain was fried and there were much more pleasant things to pin her thoughts to?

She figured she had gone quiet for too long when Harry let out a short sigh before rubbing at his eyes from under his glasses.

"Okay," he nodded his head, eyes fixed on the textbook in front of him, "That's okay, we'll figure it out. Was there something in specific that was tripping y'up?" He looked just as stressed as she had been only a few days prior; now she knew why he had wanted to comfort her. If she had looked anything like him, she understood his urge to wrap her up and console her.

"Harry, we can stop for the night, you know," she started, taking on a soothing tone that complimented the warmth of the worn books around them, "We've been doing this for almost six hours, and neither of us have had dinner. I don't think it would be a bad idea if we gave it a rest for now."

He peeked at her over the frame of his glasses and the fan of his lashes, swirls of curls flopping over his forehead. "I jus'..." he sighed before trailing off, reclining back in his seat with his hands falling limp in his lap, "I don't want to let y'down again. We only have a few more weeks until your retake and I want y'to feel as prepared as possible."

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out as she listened to him, tilting her head as she traced over his form. A thick black jumper covered his torso, with tan fitted trousers tailored to his hips. The blue paint on his nails was chipped as he plucked at his sweater, finding a loose thread she didn't think had been there before he started toying with the knit.

"You're not going to let me down again, because you haven't even let me down a first time," she countered, "Don't worry about any of that, okay? I failed that exam because of me, not you. You're working yourself harder than I am, and I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around." She released a breathy laugh, hoping the light-hearted note she ended on would draw the same from him.

"Yeah..." he sighed, mimicking her with a small laugh of his own though his smile was tight. His eyes were pinned on his plucking fingers, unmoving from their position though she was sure he felt her eyes on him. The toes of his Vans kicked at the floor as a beat passed, Harry was clearly still unsure about quitting while he felt like there was so much work to be done.

"Let's just stop for the night, it's okay," she repeated, "We'll come back to this next time, and it'll probably be easier then anyway. We won't be working on two fried brain cells."

Harry sucked in a deep breath, shoulders broadening and chest puffing before he met her eyes. He nodded his head, "Yeah, okay. But only if you're okay with it; I don't want to abandon you."

"Of course, I'm okay with it. It's my idea," she smiled, already shifting in her seat to start packing up.

Following after her, Harry's stress deflated from his shoulders. (Y/N) had her own things tucked away with her bag slung over her shoulder, waiting on him. She knew when he had all of his notes and utensils neatly packed away, he would continue on his routine of asking if he could walk her to her car where he would wait for her to drive away before he would let himself go home. Tonight, she didn't want to leave alone while he went in the opposite direction.

She didn't want their night to be confined to physics talk like it had been every other time they'd seen each other. She figured since it was dinner time already, she hoped to convince him to come along with her for an extra few hours.

"I'll—uh...I'll walk you to your car, if that's okay," Harry recited as they edged out of the library, taking the now familiar route to the first floor.

Sucking in a deep breath, she hoped she wasn't running too far with Ny's small encouragement. "I was actually thinking about getting something to eat before I went home. Would you want to come with me, maybe?" Trying her best to stay casual, (Y/N) feigned nonchalance; she hoped he would accept on the grounds of the impromptu date she was suggesting, but if he took this as a pair of friends getting food before the night ended, she would be able to play along.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, (Y/N) mimicking his actions when she noticed his lag. She turned on her heel to where he stood with bright red cheeks and raised brows. "Really?" he breathed, green eyes pinned to her face.

"Yeah," she affirmed, nodding her head though she didn't feel very confident anymore, "I was kind of in the mood for pizza, so I was thinking about going to Wanda's."

"And you want me to go with you?"

(Y/N) tried not to feel hurt at the blunt execution of his line of question. If he didn't want to go with her, all he had to do was say so.

"I mean, yeah," she answered, worrying the strap of her bag in her fist, "But if you don't want to, it's totally okay. I understand if you just want to go home, instead."

He reanimated at the sound of her words, practically jumping as he stuttered closer to her in a half step, "No—I mean, yes! Yes, I do want to go with you, I mean." His flustered acceptance drew a laugh from her though Harry's face only flushed a deeper red. Taking a deep breath, Harry centered himself though he kept his eyes closed to keep his head straight. "If you're still offering, I would love to go with you, (Y/N)."

Yeah. She definitely had a crush on him.

"C'mon then," she beckoned, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. He stiffened under her hold for half a second before he happily followed after her, tripping over himself to keep up.

By the time they made it to her car (she had agreed to drive since it was her idea to go out in the first place), Harry was nothing but full smiles, flushed cheeks, and glittery eyes. Her car felt smaller with the two of them inside. The broad of his shoulders took up the full of the passenger seat, legs spread to accommodate his book bag at his feet. Restless fingers scratched at the denim on his thighs, his pink lips rolled between his teeth.

"I need to text my roommate, but you can connect and play some music if you want," (Y/N) said after tossing her bag in the backseat, reaching for her phone she had dropped in the empty cup holder.

Harry's cheeks flushed a brighter red as he nodded his head, grabbing at his own phone. (Y/N) turned her attention to her own illuminated screen, pulling up Naomi's thread.

i'll be home soon im just now leaving the library but im getting dinner first !

Before (Y/N) could check her other neglected notifications, a round of texts came through from her roommate.

Ny🪴

Wait are you still with Harry ?

Omg are you going with him

Is this a date are you going on a date w him omg ??????

(Y/N) typed back her response, leaving her message vague with a simple Yes, im with harry as his music started filtering through the speakers. The beginning beats of a Mac Miller song played out.

"I love this album! I didn't know you listened to this," she smiled, pressing send on her text before leaving Ny to decipher her own details.

"Yeah," he answered with a toothy grin, "'S one of m'favorites." He seemed to relax into his seat then, fingers still fumbling over invisible threads on his clothes though he never lost his smile.

The drive was short, Harry kept conversation light despite his stuttered words that he spoke through his beaming smile. (Y/N) found it hard to keep her eyes on the road when she wanted to see the dimples dented into his cheeks. She let out a breath as the neon sign hung above the student staffed pizza parlor came into view; now she could put all of her attention on him without the distraction of driving or confusion of physics in the way.

"You've been to Wanda's before, right?" (Y/N) asked as she parked, Harry's attention flicking to her in an instant.

Under the limited light of the neon tubes and the sliver of moonlight above them, Harry was bathed in a pearlescent glow. The rose of his cheeks was highlighted with the help of the pink neon above his head, with the knitted pattern of his jumper becoming prominent with the trick of the light. "Yeah," he nodded his head, waiting for her as she rounded the front of her car to meet him on the sidewalk, "I actually used to work here m'first year."

"Oh!" she gasped, stopping before they reached the graffitied window that marked Wanda's parlor, "We don't have to go then if you don't want to. We can go somewhere else." She knew all too well what it was like to go back to the scene of an old job; at the best of times, the person who'd taken the open position was told about her with all of the good bits and stupid incidents, or she could barely make it to the front doors before turning around and instead placing an online order to avoid any interactions.

"No, 's alright," Harry shrugged her off, the curls of his hair waving with the shake of his head, "I still like it here, jus' didn't really feel like delivering pizzas to frat parties at one a.m. for no tip after a year."

"No way, you were the night delivery guy?" (Y/N) made a face at the new information, already feeling pity over the idea of him being the poor freshman that always drew the short straw and had to deliver to hungry and drunken party goers in a college town. Only for it to be made even worse with the lack of tip.

"Mhm. 'S as awful as it sounds."

An airy laugh breached his lips as Harry reached the door before her, grabbing for the sticker covered handle to let her in first. The familiar sound of Wanda's invited her in. Loud music that probably shouldn't have been playing during business hours filtered through the speakers with the attendants in the open kitchen shouting over the tune. Kids she recognized from some of her classes were seated at tables with worn decals laminated over the top.

"Welcome to Wanda's, how can I help you?" One of the cooks in the kitchen ran out to the front, shouting as he went. His long hair was tied into a bun at the nape of his neck with flour dusting the pieces that acted like fringe around his face.

Harry looked at her with raised brows, a question of if (Y/N) was ready to order. She gave a slight nod, stepping up beside him with a bright smile on her face.

Though this wasn't exactly a proper date, the romanticized idea she'd had when she asked him out with her fleshed itself out. It wasn't what they were doing so much as how (Y/N) wasn't able to shake the jitters bouncing through her veins. She peeked at him from the corner of her eye as he rattled off his practiced order. She had become so used to seeing him in an academic setting, sitting beside her in physics or huddled between bookshelves at the library, to see him in a relaxed environment made it that much easier to confirm her desire to know him. It may not be a first date, but (Y/N) would remember it like it was.

After she recited off her own order, (Y/N) stepped forward as she plucked out her card. Harry gently grabbed for her wrist, a quiet protest ready to fall from his lips.

"(Y/N), let m—"

"I invited you out, let me get this one," she cut him off, thankful for the lagging computer system behind the counter, "And I want to say thank you for helping me again."

The lilypad of his iris wandered over her face, rolling his lips between his teeth as he finally met her eyes. His grasp on her arm loosened until it dropped with a lingering brush of his fingers over the back of her hand. "Thank you," he whispered, the gratitude quiet just for her to hear, "'M going to save us a table then."

After (Y/N) nodded, Harry walked off with a small smile hooking his lips with his signature blushing cheeks. The ding of the computer system finally catching up stole her attention, drawing her eye away from Harry. After running her card and grabbing their collapsing paper plates with the signature massive Wanda's slices, she followed after Harry to the quiet table in the back he had chosen, farthest from the blaring speakers.

When he saw her approaching with her hands full, Harry stumbled over himself to pull her chair out and take the overflowing plates out of her hands. She let out an airy laugh as he settled shakily in his seat, their respective meals placed on the decal covered table.

"Y'really didn't have to do this, (Y/N), but thank you."

"Harry," she started, playful rolling her eyes as she picked up her slice, "You've been helping me a lot with all this physics stuff—for the second time now, and all for free. This is the least I can do, especially since you bought coffee the other day, too. So, thank you."

Truthfully, she didn't want Harry to think she expected any of his help. She had gathered that he was rather sensitive and from the way he'd thank her for agreeing to her own plans, she knew that if she allowed him, he'd take it upon himself to do anything that he thought would make her happy.

Now with food in front of them, (Y/N) realized just how hungry she was. A lull fell between them as they finally ate for the first time in almost eight hours. It wasn't until she had made it halfway through her slice when she figured she should actually take this opportunity to get to know Harry like she had wanted instead of stuffing her face like she could do with Ny for free at home.

"So," she started after swallowing a bite of cheese and pepperoni, "What do you want to do after school? Something with physics or...?"

Harry wiped at his mouth with the paper napkin printed with the parlor's logo, shrugging a shoulder before he managed to swallow. "Probably. I jus' don't know where to go with it sometimes; the field is so tight and competitive. If I want something really worth it, 's going to take some time to get there from where 'm starting. It can be a little overwhelming to think about."

"That makes sense," (Y/N) nodded, sipping from the water she'd grabbed up front, "You're doing social media stuff right now, though, right? That could count for something; if you phrase it right on a resumé, you basically filled a position with computer science skills and required programming qualifications."

A cinch appeared in his brow from across the table, his eyes searching as if he didn't know what she was talking about. After a split second, he straightened up, seemingly remembering his own occupation. "Right, yeah," he nodded with a tight smile, eyes averting to the plain cheese slice in front of him, "But, what about you? I know y'said your roommate kind of dragged you into taking that class, so I doubt 's anything like what 'm looking at."

"Oh, definitely not," she laughed around a bite of pizza, the crust becoming the majority of what she had left, "I honestly want to travel after this, I think. I know it's not the best option to be putting off a job when swimming in student loans, but I think I jumped into school because I thought I had done everything I wanted, but I want more now. I want to see everything we're taught about."

Harry's smile bloomed over his features as he listened to her, the crust of his pizza reduced to a toy being prattled between his fingers. "I know what y'mean. I've been saving up as much money as I can to do the same," he rested his elbow on the table with his chin resting in his palm, "I would love to go to Japan someday. A couple of m'friends have gone, and they've said its the most fast-paced but peaceful place they've ever been. I want to see how that works."

(Y/N) couldn't help the curl that spread over her own lips. In the time that she'd gotten a chance to really talk to Harry, he'd never revealed anything this personal. He was kept tightly under wraps, his shy defenses made it easy for him to keep those secrets and traits all to himself. A bubbling warmth formed in her chest as she finally got a look at what was going on in his head; he wasn't just made up of formulas and quantum theories. Since he seemed much more interested in learning about her than sharing about himself, she was going to hang onto this moment (and probably tell Ny how much it had made her tummy simmer with butterflies when she got home).

Despite the fact both of their dinners were inching towards bare bones with half finished waters, (Y/N) was determined to learn as much as she could about him. She liked him beyond the color-coded notes and the stacks of physics textbooks he could recite from memory, now all she wanted to know was where the rest of him started.

—————

Ny🪴

do you want to go shopping for halloween costumes when you get home???

(Y/N) perked up as she read the text, messaging back a quick yes with excessive exclamation marks. She hadn't given much thought to her costume for the year though the annual Sigma Pi sorority Halloween party was a little less than two weeks away. She hadn't thought of the party itself much either, too preoccupied with the guy she could see from the corner of her eye beside her.

While she was tapping at her phone, Harry was busy fussing with his usual setup. His previous notebook was now full of annotations and outlines, prompting him to start a new one just a few months into the course. As she glanced at him, (Y/N) wasn't able to shake the butterflies that fluttered through her tummy, the same kaleidoscope that had been cocooned in her abdomen since the night at Wanda's. That night, she had planned on getting home by nine-thirty at the latest, but she ended up staying past ten p.m. talking to Harry over dented bottles of water and pizza crust that was picked apart by nervous fingers. While she had the privilege of learning bits and pieces of the man that made up her physics hero, he still managed to worm around her questions and turn them on her. But, the vision of him happily listening to each of her mundane stories and simple anecdotes like they were fairy tales that made up the facets of her, made it all worth it.

She felt supremely more comfortable with him, but (Y/N) still wanted more. She wanted to see more of him, learn more, and figure out if she could even be more to him. All she needed was more time with him first. Sure, they were still set with study sessions, but she wanted more of the man that sat across from her at Wanda's.

Now with the thought of the Halloween party floating around, (Y/N) figured she might have the right venue to see him. Though she'd never seen him at any parties on Greek Row (it was really only a couple of back-to-back blocks made up of all the sororities and fraternities, but it was just easier to call it one row), she urged to see how he would behave in that kind of environment. She could invite him, and if he said no, at least she tried (she really hoped he wouldn't, though. She wanted to know what he would dress up as). Even if the butterflies in her tummy made her fingers jittery and perked up the nerves in her body at thought of posing the question.

Normally, she would be dying during the sluggish pace that Stanfill taught the class. But, today, the slow ticks of the clock gave her time to work up the courage to ask Harry to the party. More often than not, she felt her gaze instinctually travel to glance at him from the corner of her eye. Like always, she found him scratching out his notes with diligence, the most important bits of information closely followed by a highlighter. She swore (or more likely, hoped) that Harry returned her gaze when she wasn't looking, peeking at her from under the fan of his lashes with a soft smile following on the curve of his lips.

By the time Professor Stanfill officially dismissed class, (Y/N) found herself taking her time to pack up her materials. She remembered the days when she would bolt out of the room with her laptop packed away a full five minutes before the end time just so she could avoid spending a minute passed her required time in the lecture hall. Now, she lingered at the end of the row with her bag hung over her shoulder and her eyes on Harry as she waited. She looked forward to the routine they now had; it almost made coming to this class worth it.

Once they started on the trek to her car, (Y/N) falling into step beside Harry as best she could though his strides were much larger than her own, she sucked in a deep breath and worried the knit of her cardigan between her nails.

"That Halloween party at Sigma Pi is in a couple of weeks, are you and your friends planning on going?" she posed, hiding the cringe of her nerves with a shaky smile. She hoped she didn't sound weird, asking her study buddy about his Halloween plans so stiffly.

"Probably not," he shrugged, directing his gaze towards his feet with rose dusted cheeks, "I don't think 'm really invited, anyway."

"It's a party, everyone's invited! My roommate and I are going," she bubbled, her goal being to wipe the dejected look off his face.

Harry looked up from the path of his feet with his lips rolled between his teeth. "Are you... You're going to dress up?"

"Mhm, Naomi and I are going costume shopping as soon as I get home," she explained, glancing at him over the line of her shoulder to find Harry looking straight ahead with his hand wrapped tightly around the strap of his bag, "But, I'm not sure what I'm going to be yet."

A beat of silence passed as the parking lot drew closer. Harry's gaze was stuck straight ahead while (Y/N) awaited some kind of response. Now that there was a plausible chance he might decline her invitation, she realized just how badly she wanted him to go.

Plucking up her courage, fingers wrapped tightly in the fabric of her cardigan, (Y/N) tried again. "I would really like it if you came, Harry. You don't have to dress up if you don't want to, but I was really hoping we could hang out a little more."

Though the hesitancy wasn't cleared from his tone, Harry finally answered her. "I—uh—I might have to work that weekend, but I'll think about it."

A short smile spread over (Y/N)'s features. At least it wasn't a complete no.

"Of course," she nodded, "And if you can't make it, or don't feel up to it, it's more than okay. I know parties aren't for everyone, I just wanted you to know you're welcome to come—to any of these parties, actually. I want you to be there, at least."

A toothy grin made its way over Harry's features, his face flaming an abundant shade of red. With the dimples denting his cheeks, he chanced a look in her direction with his eyes flitting over her features, "Thank you, (Y/N). That really does mean a lot."

She was starting to curse herself for her impeccable parking jobs, her close spots making their journeys a little too short to her liking (she was still crooked and riding the white lines, so her proximity to the main building was the only impeccable part).

A bright smile covered her features as she turned on her heel to face him. "Well, I'll see you later, right? Wednesday for more tutoring?"

"Yeah," he smiled, voice soft as his gaze matched her's, "I'll see you. Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Harry."

(Y/N) edged towards her car, chancing a glance at him over her shoulder. Looking at him now, she really hoped he would be able to make it.

—————

Looking in the mirror, Harry found Mitch eyeing him with a raised brow and an incredulous look. He tried his best to school his features into neutrality, but he knew the nerves singing in his veins were clear on his face. Fussing with his last minute Halloween costume, he debated if it really was a good idea for him to go out on Halloween night.

Truth be told, he was planning on staying in tonight and putting on a festive theme for the cam-site in honor of the holiday. But, since (Y/N) had invited him to this party over a week ago, he hadn't been able to shake her words from his head. She wanted to spend time with him, she said; she wanted him there. How was he supposed to pass that up in favor of making a few hundred dollars from strangers?

"H, c'mon, your hair looks fine, stop messing with it. You're just stalling so you don't have to leave yet," Mitch griped from where he was stood lent up against the doorframe of Harry's bedroom. Harry's eyes stayed stuck on his reflection in the floor length mirror pinned on his wall (would he look stupid going to this party dressed up? He really hoped (Y/N) would stick to her promise of coming in costume). Mitch sighed, bringing his attention back to the reflection behind him, "You know, if you want to pregame a little to get rid of some nerves, I can just drive you over and pick you up later."

"No, no, it's okay," Harry declined as used his shaky hands to adjust the bowtie around his neck, "I jus'... You know I've never done this before. I'm-I'm nervous."

Crossing his arms, Mitch raised his brows again, "But your girl will be there, right? So, at least you'll have one person to talk to. Besides, if things aren't going well, you can always just leave."

The blush that rose to Harry's cheeks was involuntary and unstoppable at the sound of Mitch calling (Y/N) his girl. "She's not my girl," he mumbled through a smile, "But, yeah, I guess so."

"It's going to be fine, Harry. You're going to have fun, you're just scaring yourself at this point."

Harry wanted to believe Mitch's words—logically, he knew they were true. He was definitely the type to get into his head and let his uncertainty squander his fun before he'd even had any. But, letting that go was something that was much easier said than done.

Turning away from the mirror with his mock lab coat brushing his shins, Harry faced Mitch with a heavy hand running through his hair, "Do y'think I look alright?"

Mitch rolled his eyes, stepping away from the doorframe to wander back to the main living area. "You know," he called, Harry's jittery form following after him, "If you ask me that one more time, I'm going to tell Pauli that you're doubting their choices and it's going to hurt his feelings."

"'M not, 'm not," Harry countered though his argument barely had legs, "'M jus' nervous, that's all."

Falling into the worn recliner tucked away in the corner of Harry's living room, Mitch heaved a heavy sigh. A look of sympathy shot through his gaze, letting Harry know he understood where he was coming from but was still bent on his tough love approach of making him go. "Have you talked to her at all today?"

Shaking his head, the tea shades perched on the top of his head jostling in his hair, Harry spoke, "No. She doesn't even know 'm coming tonight. She texted me the address this morning and that she hoped to see me there, but I didn't say anything back because I wasn't sure."

A dumbfounded look twisted Mitch's features, the shock of Harry's words pulling him to sit straight in the sagging cushions, "Text her back, then! Tell her you're coming and that you can't wait to see her! What are you thinking?!"

Harry resisted the urge to pick at his freshly painted nails, knowing that if any chips appeared it would only make him spiral further. "I don't know. 'M not sure if she's only doing this to be nice to me because I told her I'd never been invited to any of these things."

The coach facade Mitch had taken on for the night fell at the sight of his friend practically deflating at the thought. "She said she wanted to spend time with you, Harry—you, specifically. If she was only trying to be nice, she wouldn't have said that," Mitch encouraged, sitting with his elbows perched on his knees as he pinned his gaze to Harry across the room, "You've told me you feel like she's a really honest person, so believe her. I think you're going to have a lot of fun tonight, you just have to let yourself."

Harry sucked in a deep breath, his eyes falling to the black loafers he had on his feet. He nodded his head slowly as if the motion was done only to convince himself of the affirmations. "Okay," he breathed, peeking at his friend through the gaps in his lashes, "What time is it?"

Glancing at his phone, Mitch then jerked his chin in the direction of the front door, "Time for you to go if you want to be fashionably late, but not too late to miss anything."

He reached for the plush cat he had resting on the table by his keys, the key accessory to the costume. Harry chanced a glance back at his best friend, "Are y'sure you can't come with me tonight?"

"Nope," he answered simply, a shake of his head rustling the long tendrils of his hair, "Already committed to Sarah's plans of staying in and watching scary movies tonight. Text me if you need a ride home, though."

With the grey kitten tucked under his arm and his friend ushering him out of his own apartment, Harry did anything he could to work up a last minute sprinkling of blind confidence. He hoped he could somehow channel the adrenaline rush a good scary movie gave him, the feeling enough to help him carry through on his plan for the night.

"Thank you for hanging out with me tonight, and helping me get ready, Mitch," Harry smiled, though the curl was shaky. Mitch abandoned his post in the recliner, moving to step beside Harry to follow him out. "Will you tell Sarah I said hi?"

Mitch let out an aerated laugh, "I will."

Once outside his apartment, Mitch eyeing the shaky hands that Harry used to lock the door behind him, he figured more encouragement wouldn't hurt. "I'm happy you're going, H. You'll have to tell me all about it when you get home."

"Me too," Harry swallowed, nodding his head though the motion was slightly disjointed, "I jus' need to get there, and then I'll feel better. This is the hard part."

"Well, then go and I'll talk to you later, okay?" Mitch ushered him as they approached the flight of open stairs leading out of the apartment complex.

Harry took one last glance at his glossy nails and hugged the stuffed kitten to his side in a motion he hadn't meant to make but comforted him nonetheless. He nodded his head to Mitch's words before waving him off to his own car. In the solitude of his slowly heating vehicle, Harry took a deep breath.

He could do this, he knew that. He was going to do this because of (Y/N). And, he was going to have fun with her. He would make sure of it.

—————

Harry couldn't say he'd ever been to this neighborhood without his pizza delivery uniform on.

The Greek lettering that named each of the houses was illuminated at the peak of the architecture. He had driven past the Sigma Pi house a handful of times while searching for a parking spot that wasn't blocking a driveway or would land him with any kind of complaint. That left him to park almost a full block away, just on the edge of the fraternity side of the Row. Now, he had to take a long walk up the only vaguely familiar neighborhood.

Practically every house Harry walked by had flashing lights and the echo of pounding music flooding from inside. The Halloween themed decorations plastered along the outer facade of the party houses were jostled with each whiff of the experience going on inside that was granted every time the door was opened. He, luckily, didn't feel too out of place considering he wasn't the only one dressed up, but he definitely felt a few questioning glances from the handful of sober people that passed him by. He had been prepared with the fact that most of the party-goers weren't going to immediately recognize his costume (Erwin Schrödinger wasn't exactly a trending icon this season), but he liked it and he knew there had to be at least a few people who would get it. He hoped (Y/N) would at least.

Nonetheless, Harry held the stuffed cat to his side as he approached the Sigma Pi sorority house. This party in particular was teeming with activity, even with a short line having developed at the front door. He knew some of the Greek party traditions, having been drunkenly quizzed every time he had to deliver a stack of pizzas from Wanda's years ago. Since he was a guy (it was an either an attempt to keep weirdos out or to keep the female to male ratio teetering in the direction of the former), he was going to have to know someone who lived at the house, be someone's plus one, or be recognized enough to be allowed in without question. He knew two of those options weren't going to fit him, leaving the hope that knowing (Y/N) would be enough to get through the door.

The short line that had formed dispersed quickly as it was made up of majority girls who were let in without a hitch. Harry met the wannabe bouncer on the rickety white porch that wrapped around the front of the sorority, with the group of his friends standing off to the side waiting for him to be free.

The guard, dressed as a version of Scooby-Doo with high-tops on his feet, squinted at Harry with puzzlement twitching in his features. Without an introduction, his eyes scanned over Harry's form, "What are you supposed to be? A pussy doctor?"

Harry couldn't stop the huffed laugh that bubbled through at Scooby's guess. He figured he could look like he was trying to make a joking costume of a gynecologist with his lab coat and plush cat. He shook his head though the edges of his lips fought off a smile, "No, 'm Erwin Schrödinger."

A blank look was all he received in response.

Shuffling his feet, Harry tried again. "Like, Schrödinger's Cat?"—he shook the kitten in his hand as if that would jog his memory—"The thought experiment that questions quantum superposition?"

Scooby's brown spotted eyes showed a lack of recognition though he still nodded as if he got what Harry was explaining. "Oh, cool, cool. I see it now, man. So, you know anyone here? I don't think I've seen you around before."

Shaking hands fiddled with the faux glasses tucked into his breast pocket, "Um, yeah. I know (Y/N)—she invited me."

"Oh!" he sounded, eyes brightening at the sound of the familiar name, "(Y/N), yeah, she said she had a friend coming later. You can go on in, man."

"Thank you," Harry smiled through his mumbled words, stepping carefully over the worn boards under his feet.

"Wait, what's your name?"

Harry halted at the sudden question, looking to the side where the now friendly bouncer had stopped him. "I'm Harry."

"Nice to meet you, Harry." Scooby extended his hand out for one of those casual handshakes all frat brothers are expected to know, except for the fact Harry only knew it from the repeated appearance of it on campus. "See you in there. Tell (Y/N) I said hi."

Nodding with a slight smile on his face, Harry escaped the sudden friendship he didn't realize he was forging. He didn't know Scooby's real name, so he wasn't quite sure how he was going to tell (Y/N) about his greetings. But, Harry decided he'd worry about that when he actually found her.

Slipping through the slightly cracked door, he was greeted to the sight of a packed party house. The living room was fit on a lowered platform, leaving a clear border for the makeshift dance floor to be made. Still the flood of people created small dance circles and corners where guests were shuffling to the beat of the song with the limited space they had. The dimmed lights were occasionally swapped out for purple and magenta colored bulbs, glinting over the black and orange metallic garland strung throughout the room and hanging from the banisters. Though it made no logical sense, the music was almost so loud, Harry felt like he couldn't see very well through the throngs of people.

Until he saw (Y/N) bounding down the stairs, of course.

He had been starting to get worried that he should have told her he was coming just in the off chance they could have made a designated meeting spot so he wasn't left standing around like a potted plant. But, it was like she had heard his calls to her he was making in his head and started a stumbling descent down the packed staircase behind a couple other girls he recognized from campus. The hand not holding a red plastic cup was clutched in the grip of the girl in front of her; a platinum blonde with a shag haircut dressed as something of a space cowgirl with neon and LEDs littering her fringed, denim jumpsuit. That had to be Ny, Harry figured, the bubbly blonde (Y/N) lived with and thought so highly of.

The second (Y/N)'s eyes caught sight of Harry standing like a dope in the middle of a bustling party, they widened to match the splitting grin stretching her lips.

"Harry!" She shooed her friends off with a promise to catch up with them later as she stumbled over to him, the only obstacle in her way being her lack of balance and the white go-go boots on her feet. "I didn't know you were coming tonight, hi!"

"Hi," he breathed. A dreamy smile covered his features now that he was in her presence, feeling a weight drift from his shoulders. "Kind of a last minute decision, didn't have time to tell you."

With her free hand, (Y/N) reached out and laid her hand on the bulk of Harry's bicep, her hold gentle as she curled her fingers around. Harry practically froze at the touch, the only thing still reacting in his body being his rapidly beating heart and the rise of blood to color his cheeks. He was going to have to thank Mitch for convincing him to go out tonight; he was suddenly very into the Halloween spirit.

"I'm so happy you made it! You look so good, I love your costume!"—a pause settled as she ran her gaze over his form—"...What is it?"

An airy laugh left his lips, "'M Erwin Schrödinger—you know, Schrödinger's cat?" He offered her the stuffed kitten, hoping for (Y/N) to make the connection to one of the previous week's physics lessons.

Doubtful recognition built in her eyes. "Stanfill talked about him in class the other day, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's him. Quantum superposition, remember?"

"Yeah, that!" (Y/N) bubbled, though Harry was almost completely sure she didn't know what he was talking about outside of the cat reference. At least, she was trying and expressing some interest given the fact he was sure physics was the last thing on her mind on a Saturday night. "I really like it, Harry! You look so cool, and your kitten is cute."

His signature blushed cheeks made their second, full-force appearance in the last few minutes. "Thank you," he smiled, tucking his plushie into one of the deep pockets of his lab coat, "You look really nice, too. Are you from the sixties?" Harry cringed at the stiff compliment; she looked much better than nice but he couldn't get anything else past his lips.

Her small top was colored with psychedelic daisies and swirls in bold yellow, pink and cream tones, the fabric cut short to reveal her midriff and a generous view of her décolletage and cleavage with the way it came to a tie between her breasts. The sleeves were long and trumpeted out to bell shapes around her wrists with a small trim of daisy fringe around the hem. A matching skirt was stretched high over her waist and came to a short stop at the mid of her thighs, the fabric tightly conformed to the silhouette of her hips. Though not much leg was on display with the help of the over-the-knee white boots clinging to the shape of her. Her makeup was simple with glossy lips and bunched lashes to recreate the look of the models of the time-period, leaving the white daisies drawn on the high points of her cheeks to take his attention. She tied the look all together with the daisy studded headband preceding the beehive styled bump of her hair.

She looked gorgeous, really. If Harry worked carefully, he could use his tea shades to his advantage and switch his outfit around to resemble a Beatles member. Then, he would look like he belonged with her.

"Mhm," she eagerly nodded, "I'm a go-go dancer, like at those clubs! You like it?"

It was an innocent question, said through a beaming smile and bright eyes, but Harry couldn't stop the burn in his stomach at the sound of her seeking his approval. She was too cute for her own good—and for his too, if he wanted to return home in one piece.

"I do, yeah," he choked out, swallowing around the words that were able to squeak passed.

"Thank you," she smiled, glancing over her shoulder in the direction she had been headed before she got distracted with him. Her hand on his arm tightened, the weight being something Harry was hyper aware of through the whole interaction. "Do you want to get a drink with me? I was about to go get another when I saw you."

Harry bit back his flustered smile, nodding his head with a nervous jerk. "Yeah, sure. 'M not drinking tonight since I drove, but I'll come with you."

"Okay!" she chirped, drawing her hand down his arm to finish with her fingers wrapped around his wrist.

Following along behind her, Harry felt his blush rise to the apples of his cheeks. He was very aware of the fact that everyone stopping her to say hi and compliment her costume on the way to the makeshift bar set up in the kitchen saw her hand holding onto him. Even one of the guys that had screened him at the door had patted Harry on his back in congratulation as he passed before shooting his eyes to (Y/N) a step ahead with a raised brow. After that, Harry kept his eyes in front of him with his cheeks flushed, his instinctive shyness kicking in knowing that eyes were on him. (The girl in front of him was a welcome distraction, though, especially the shape of her hips and the curve of her ass in the tight cover of her skirt).

The crowd of partygoers thinned once they broke into the kitchen. A few straggling groups were plotted around the island, clearly drunk with matching outfits, but it was much easier to breathe and think in the tiled space. (Y/N) beelined it to the row of drinks and mix-ins settled on the counter, placing her plastic cup on the sticky surface.

Her idle hands fluttered about the many half full liquor bottles and jugs of room-temperature juice, a bright smile on her lips. More than once as she picked out the mix for her drink she looked to her left to find Harry still hovering where she left him. "I still can't believe you made it, Harry; I'm so happy! I was just telling the girls upstairs that I invited you, but I wasn't sure if you were coming since you hadn't texted me this morning. I just figured you got busy or couldn't get out of work tonight, but I'm so excited you're here!"

She looked to him with a large smile on her face, the daisies painted on her cheeks dancing at the movement. He could tell just how genuinely happy she was that he had taken her up on her invitation, the way she couldn't seem to settle now that she was in his presence telling him enough to make his heart burst. Now that he was with her, Harry couldn't believe he was so scared to go and was this close to backing out of attending.

"'M happy 'm here, too, (Y/N)," he sighed blissfully, unable to get much more out around the bloating of his heart.

With her poorly mixed, lukewarm drink sitting finished, (Y/N) directed the full of her attention to him at the sound of her name. She gazed up at him with a dreamy smile on her lips, his vision of her shrouded in feathery clouds and a rose-tinted vignette. If he hadn't been so preoccupied with his own bliss-induced outlook, Harry would have noticed the heart shaped lenses she was looking at him through.

"So," she started, breaking the marathon of eye contact Harry was reluctant to pull away from, "How did you get out of work tonight?" She edged towards the kitchen island that was littered with half drank cups of cocktails, hopping up to sit on a cleared section of counter. Swinging her legs, she sipped on her pink lemonade and vodka concoction with the wide of her eyes pinned on Harry.

He swallowed at the sight of her sat in the perfect position for him to spread her legs open and slip between her thighs. That was something he couldn't deny he had dreamed about when setting up for a stream, something to get him hard and in the moment. Most of his pre-show fantasies were built around her, ever since he started that physics class with her almost two months ago. But, Harry refrained from making those short steps to stand between the plush of her thighs, keeping himself stationed at the counter opposite her.

Her question was processed slowly before Harry recalled the lie he had made up when he hadn't been so sure about showing up to the party; a lie he worked on top of the other lie he made about his job. "I—uh—I jus' told m'boss I had food poisoning and I couldn't come in," he laughed, though his smile was a bit stiff.

The truth was, he had planned on doing a special stream tonight on the cam-site, but instead he made a quick post on his page about extra premium content going up over the weekend and got ready to go out instead.

(Y/N) let out an unexpectedly loud laugh at his low-level joke, almost doubling over from where she sat. That's how he knew she was on the edge of tipsy, moving into drunken territory. Nonetheless, it only made Harry think she was even cuter.

"Well, I'm happy you're not really sick," she smiled when she calmed down, looking him over. When she met his own gaze, the edges around her amused eyes softened. "Come here. You're so far away."

Her eyes sparkled in the dim lights that filled the sorority house, drawing Harry even deeper in the dream that made her up. Her lips curled into a smile that matched the soft of her skin as she reached her free hand out towards him to beckon him to the cage of her spread legs. She was asking him to come closer, and Harry was just lucky that his heart hadn't completely beat out of his chest yet.

With his palms clamming up, Harry took careful steps in her direction, unable to deny her of any request. At the sight of him moving closer, (Y/N) dropped her hand and spread her legs wide enough to fit him between despite the short skirt that wrapped around the full of her thighs.

"Do you... Is it okay if I...?" he asked, flicking his eyes to the space she made for him. He eased an extra step towards her, carefully awaiting her permission.

"Yes! Come here, already," she giggled, hooking her gogo-booted ankle around the back of his knee. She tugged him close enough to grab at the fabric of his lab coat, though she kept her ankle hiked around his leg even when he was right where she wanted him.

A bright red blush colored his cheeks as he felt the full of her thighs around his hips. He made a point to keep his hands to himself, his fingers tangling together in an effort to keep from spanning across the smooth skin revealed by the short of her skirt.

(Y/N) gazed up at him perfectly content now that he wasn't a world away like she had felt. The alcohol on her breath was masked by the sweetness of artificially flavored pink lemonade, though it was her smile that drew Harry in and the way she couldn't seem to look at any of his features long enough before she was searching through the planes of his face again.

"What's your favorite color?"

Harry reared back some at the sudden question though his lips still twitched at the edges. He trailed his gaze to the yellow daisies printed on her cheeks before matching her eyes. "Um, yellow. Why?"

Her grin brightened at his answer, twisting dreamily in her spot as she shrugged. "I don't know. I don't feel like I know a lot about you, but I want to."

Practically melting in his spot, Harry felt like his heart couldn't beat any harder. God, she was so cute. She wouldn't make this easy on him, keeping his hands to himself.

"Your favorite color is pink, right?" Harry prompted, biting back his smile to keep it from growing and scrunching his eyes too much to be able to see her.

Bouncing in her spot and tightening her ankle around the back of his knee, (Y/N) perked up at Harry's correct answer. "Yes! How did you know?!"

A breathy laugh preluded his words, "Jus' a good guess. Your laptop case, your bag, and almost everything you wear is pink. Thought it would be a safe assumption."

"You are so good at remembering things, Harry! That's probably why you're so smart." Her words were edging on slurred but he knew they were completely genuine. It still made his chest puff with pride that she thought so highly of him; that she appreciated his brain and intelligence that he worked so hard to cultivate. "You know," (Y/N) continued, "I was telling my roommate how smart you are, and how you want to go into something with physics or engineering when we graduate, but I feel like I couldn't even explain it right. You're just so smart, and I don't know what half of that even means." She finished with an exorbitant laugh, the sound a little too loud to be considered sober.

Harry found his thoughts stuck on the fact that she had spoken about him to her roommate, the notion rounding out his eyes and shrouding his vision of her in a glittering veil of affection. He rolled his lips between his teeth, aware of her eyes glazing over his form. "You're plenty smart, (Y/N), really. Y'don't give yourself enough credit. Jus' because physics is harder for you, doesn't mean you're not smart in so many other ways that I lack."

"See!" (Y/N) bubbled, reaching for the lapel of his lab coat and hiking her leg around his own, "That's why I like you, Harry! You're so smart, but you're not mean about it. You're so kind all the time—like, all of the time!"

She liked him?

Maybe Harry was reading too far into it, but, nonetheless, the childish sentiment that she liked him made his heart race and his blush rise to the tops of his cheekbones. Even though he wasn't the one that had been sipping on the liquid courage, he was going to take advantage of the sweetened mood (Y/N) was in and let some of his own affections slip.

"I like you, too, (Y/N)," he mumbled, just quiet enough for the two of them, "Thank you for always being nice to me, even though I know 'm not the most outgoing person."

(Y/N) settled her plastic cup on the counter beside her (Harry made a note to keep an eye on her drink for her) to free her hands. She reached for the tangle of Harry's own that knotted together in the time he stood between her legs, and laced her fingers between his. Her eyes dropped to their entwined hands as she laid them on the full of her thighs, laying Harry's palm flat over her skin. She slipped her fingers out from between his and moved to wrap them around his wrists before she looked up at him with a smile brighter than any he'd seen cross her features.

She took in a breath like she was going to speak before (Y/N) was abruptly cut off and distracted by the flock of party goers parading through the kitchen. They stumbled towards the glass door that led to the backyard, some stragglers occasionally grabbing for bottles of liquor all the while slurring through conversations. Celebratory hollers were heard throughout the small space, just enough of a commotion to steal (Y/N)'s hazy attention.

The long procession filtered through, some vaguely familiar faces from around campus patted Harry on the back and cheered him on upon seeing the somewhat intimate position he was tangled in. He dropped his gaze to where his hands were splayed over (Y/N)'s thighs with his cheeks flaming to a warm red. It wasn't like that, he knew, but this was now the second time of the night that he had been praised for supposedly winning (Y/N) for the night.

"(Y/N)!" a somewhat familiar voice shouted over the sound of the flock, the chittering of heeled boots on the tiled floor following after.

"Ny!" (Y/N) called back, jumping under Harry's hold with her hands on his wrists disappearing as she reached for the girl behind him. He looked over his shoulder to find (Y/N)'s roommate who he had only seen in flashes of blonde hair and bright colors, though he had heard enough stories to give the illusion she was also his roommate.

"I lost you for a while, where did you go?" Ny slurred, abandoning the group she had been filtering in with to approach the bundle that was made up of Harry and (Y/N).

"I found Harry—see!" She gestured to him in the way of settling her hand on the strong of his bicep, squeezing as if to ensure that this was the one she was talking about, "Ny, this is Harry. Harry, this is my roommate, Naomi!"

Harry intended to reach his hand out to shake hers, a proper introduction to ensure a good first impression, but Ny—Naomi as he was told—only looked at him with a pair of wide blue eyes. She looked to (Y/N) who still held him securely between her thighs with an ankle around his leg, before returning her gaze to his form, "You're Harry?!"

"Yeah, that's me," Harry smiled, a shy pair of dimples denting into his flushed cheeks.

"Nice to finally meet you, Harry," she smiled, flicking her gaze to (Y/N) almost imperceptibly before sliding smoothly back to Harry like nothing happened.

"Nice to meet you, too," he mumbled, itching to turn his gaze to (Y/N) to see if she had any expression on her face he was missing.

"Well, I'll be outside with everyone," Ny smiled, shooting another look towards (Y/N) as she edged out of the kitchen, "Come get me if you need anything."

"Okay! Bye, Ny!" (Y/N) shouted, a little too loud with the words dipped in pink lemonade and vodka.

From outside, the beginnings of a fire smoking from the main pit caught the edge of Harry's attention. He didn't have a good feeling about what was happening out there, but he would keep his eye on it all just in case.

"Harry?"

"Hm?" he hummed, whipping his attention to be placed back on her.

(Y/N)'s wandering hands settled on his shoulders, her glossy eyes trailing over the planes of his face. "Do you want to dance with me?"

Harry stilled in his spot at her question. He wasn't much of a dancer, if he was being honest—not without a planned routine and some help and time to learn it, anyway. Tuning into the music that was playing from beyond the cover of the kitchen he found heavy bass notes and the sound of spitfire lyrics filtering through. When his attention zeroed back in on the girl in front of him, and despite the fact he was almost sure he was going to embarrass himself with whatever moves he pulled out, he knew he couldn't say no to her.

Swallowing hard, he gave a short nod of his head, "Um, sure."

Luckily, (Y/N) didn't catch onto the hesitation he showed with the help of the plastic cup she was now abandoning as she jumped from the counter. She chattered off something about following her as Harry stepped back to give her room. He didn't get very far before his hand was caught in the soft of her hold as she dragged him out to the living area fashioned as the dance floor.

The wood laminate floor was sticky under Harry's feet as he followed her, his reciprocating grip on her hand tightening as she led them through the crowd. The floor practically vibrated under his feet, the impact of the bass rattling the floorboards as they went. (Y/N) stopped him in the heart of the room, the music too loud to hear anything but. The others around them tailored their movements to the beat of the song, either drunk or confident enough to not worry about anyone else around them. Looking at them all, Harry realized he really had no idea how to dance to this.

Before he had longer than a second to worry, (Y/N) reached up and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck. She tugged him to her level as she rose to the tips of her toes, angling her head to speak into his ear.

"I love this song!" she shouted over the music, the full of her lips brushing the skin before his ear.

She had already dropped to her normal height (normal with the heels of her boots, anyway) by the time he intended to respond. Slipping her hands from the curve of his neck, she settled them on the broad of his shoulders. Her hips moved instinctively to the sound of the music, easing her closer to Harry. She fell in line with the beat, contentedly lending herself to the sway of the bass.

Hesitantly, Harry reached out towards her. He ghosted his hands over the curve of her waist. "Is this okay?" he called, bending at the knees to meet her height.

"Yes! I want to dance with you, Harry!" she hollered, a bubbling giggle following afterward.

(Y/N)'s eyes closed as she melted in his hold, teeth sinking into the plush of a coral stained bottom lip. Harry followed her lead in hopes that the same confidence and relaxation would leak into his muscles. Her hips glided against his own. It took a bit of coaxing before (Y/N)'s body had convinced him to fit a leg between her own, locking their nearness in place. She was the perfect distraction, he decided; though she wouldn't make him gain rhythm, she took the brunt of his attention and made the rest of the room fall away enough to relax him.

Her movements revealed just how tipsy she was, making Harry that much more careful with his hands on her waist. Every time she made a misstep (even occasionally stepping on his toes), he could just barely make out the sound of her laughter over the sound of the music, though her eyes were still shuddered behind coral shaded eyelids. His fingers slipped over her back, the skin revealed by her crop top feeling soft under his hands as he kept her steady.

Harry had dreamed of being this close to her from the second he found the courage to steal the seat beside her in Stanfill's lecture. He was hyper aware of her hands on his shoulders that squeezed when she stumbled, the brush of her hair against his skin whenever she would flip the tresses out of her way, and the length of her body swaying with the movement of her hips. The already humid room felt hotter with her so near, Harry's heart rate spiking high with his cheeks glowing pink under the deep purple lighting. He felt her everywhere, starting with the curve of her form under his palms to the flocking of butterflies flapping through his stomach.

A few songs later, Harry found himself comfortable with the way (Y/N) was dancing on him and had curated his own moves that helped him blend in with the rest of the crowd. That is until (Y/N) changed the position. This new song playing through the speakers had a baseline heavy enough that it almost came out distorted through the speakers, altering the mood of the other partygoers around them. Some hollered at the song choice, celebrating with varied dance moves and shouts of the lyrics Harry couldn't catch as (Y/N) pulled away from him.

She seemed just as overjoyed with the DJ's choice, a bright smile on her features before she spun around in Harry's hold. She stopped with her back to his chest and her bottom pressed firmly against his crotch.

"Hold me here!" she shouted, reaching for his wrists to slide his hands to rest on the curve of her hips.

If he thought he was aware of her form before this, Harry wasn't going to be able to get her curves out of his head now. The sway of her hips was now exaggerated as she brushed against his own in time to the beat. Her fingers curled into the excess strips fabric that tied her top together making Harry's eyes widen every time she tugged just a bit on the bow. Her hair had been gathered to one side, leaving Harry to see the length of her lashes and the curl of her lips as she enjoyed herself. Harry did his best to follow her lead, but he wanted nothing more than to bask in the show she was giving and let her fill the role of the dancer she was dressed as.

Nonetheless, he imitated the movement of her hips, working as her counterpart to the gentle rolls she delivered into his crotch. He kept his hands steady on her though he felt anything but with the way the curve of her ass ground against him. By the time another song was being transitioned into, (Y/N) broke from the heady character that had taken over. She reached one hand up and back to drape across the nape of Harry's neck, fingertips toying with the baby hairs there.

Pulling him down as she turned her head, she spoke to him in what could be considered a whisper with the volume of the rest of the room, "You're really good at this!"

He couldn't be more thankful for the drink she had prior to this, because this meant she hadn't noticed his clumsy fumbling and the rush he went through to keep up with her. "'M—uh—'m jus' following you," he returned.

Her smile could be felt against his pink dusted cheeks.

(Y/N) allowed him to revel in his moment as she slipped back into the fold of the music, her hand falling from around his neck to resume the dizzying game of how much the bow binding her top together could take before it unraveled. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

His breathing turned heavy the longer she played with him. Harry was more than willing to partake in the game, especially the few times she would bend at the waist just a bit to allow her ass to pop against his hips that much more. Her body moved in smooth rolls that Harry had to withdraw his eyes from in fear that she would notice something that didn't match the soft of her body poking into her behind. All the while, he could hear bits of bubbling giggles and breathy laughter falling from her as if she didn't intend to come off so sexy. He could just see the edging of the smile on her face that told him all he needed to know: this was fun for her. That only made it harder for Harry to keep a lid on the attraction he felt for her right then.

When (Y/N)'s hand returned to Harry's neck a medley of songs later, he couldn't help the tense that tightened his muscles. Her fingers familiarly threaded through the baby curls that lined the back of his neck, a layer of goosebumps trailing in her wake. He automatically understood what she was asking of him as he lent down to have his ear level with her lips. Her breath was warm on the curve of his neck, drawing Harry in as his hands tightened on her hips.

"Did I bring my drink with me?"

A breathy laugh broke the anticipation he felt pattering his heart. He gently shook his head, aware of the tip of her nose just at the level of his jawline. "No, y'left it in the kitchen, remember?"

She all but deflated in his hold. "Oh shoot. Will you come with me to get another, then?"

Besides the fact that she was working as perfect cover for the hint of a hard-on he was sporting in his pants, Harry knew he would follow her anywhere at this point.

"Lead the way."

(Y/N) repeated the ritual of grabbing for his wrist that Harry was now looking forward to when navigating the party. She took him to the kitchen island that acted as the bar, the selection now left with bare bones since bottles were taken to the backyard when Ny's group passed through.

"Do you want a water?" she asked, as she reached for a bottle of rum, "I bet there's some in the fridge!"

Harry gazed at her through the veil of affection, trying to figure how the girl who had been dancing on him on the other side of the wall was the same one offering to get him a bottle of water with a bright smile on her daisy spotted face. "'M okay, but thank you," he declined softly, resting his hip against the counter to watch her.

She bubbled off an okay! as she settled for mixing what could be considered a shot with pineapple juice folded in with the rum. Her pours were sloppy as is, but her skills only worsened when her attention was taken by the small string of people that came in from the outside. Harry made a point to scoot her cup under the stream she splashed out, saving her from the stick that would have rained over the toes of her boots.

"Do you want to go outside with me?!" she peeped, lazily screwing the top back on the remaining pineapple juice. Though her bleary eyes took a second to focus on him, the soft curve of her lips never lessened at the sound of her new idea.

He flicked his gaze to the window that showcased the dwindling fire and the few others that remained huddled around it. He spotted one couple cuddled close to the fire with a blonde-headed nurse sat on the lazy football player's lap, giggling and whispering to one another in a make-believe private moment. Harry's heart thrummed at the idea that that could be him and (Y/N).

"Yeah, let's go," Harry agreed with a soft smile, a flush working its way up his neck as he readily offered her his hand.

After letting out a small cheer, (Y/N) took her shot like a champ. She pulled a puckered face before taking his offered hand and rushing him out the back door with her. The air was crisp and cold once they left the warmth of the party behind them. Harry hadn't realized just how humid it had been when he was dancing with her until the autumnal air shivered over his form and chilled his skin. His hand was kept warm in (Y/N)'s as he followed after her somewhat wobbly bounds off the cracked concrete patio towards the small group around the fire pit.

Harry could practically see the lightbulb go off over her head when her gaze zeroed in on the trampoline set up in the far corner of the backyard. She halted in her steps but bounced in her spot. Beaming, she turned on the chunk of her heel to face Harry.

"Do you think we're allowed to go on that?"

Her eyes were wide with her bunched lashes fluttering under her raised brows with her mouth dropped into a small gape. Harry didn't have an accurate answer for her, he knew that, but he wasn't losing his yes streak now.

"I'd think so," he said with a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulder.

(Y/N) all but squealed before she rushed them towards the trampoline. Harry was unable to wipe the smile from his face as he followed her and helped lift her through the entrance in the net. He paired their shoes off together beside the broken step stool that creaked with every pace Harry climbed.

With a giggling smile, (Y/N) was already bouncing about the nylon net by the time Harry crawled through the opening. Her hair fluttered around her with the added flourish of the sleeves of her top spiraling. She urged him to hurry, beckoning him to C'mon! Jump with me!

When Harry found his footing, he matched her jumps and completed the circle that she was starting with her own path around the perimeter. Every time his jump impacted her and took her higher than on her own, a screaming laugh left her lips as she sailed through the air. A sheen covering her costume he hadn't noticed before, sparkled in the moonlight, the fringe of her sleeves shimmering each time she shot up to join the stars in the sky. She began to twirl and spin every time she launched over the netting, her eyes closing when she started her descent down.

"Harry, you stole my jump!" she called when he bounced at the same time as her, a faux pout puffing at her lips.

"'M sorry, 'm sorry," he laughed, the sound coming out created a soft in the crisp air around them. He slowed to a standstill, giving her the floor, "Try now, lo—(Y/N)."

He could only be grateful for the fact it was dark out and she was too tipsy to notice the flush climbing up his cheeks at the slip of his tongue.

(Y/N) happily took over the main space and bounced a few more times with a giggling smile on her lips. He couldn't take his eyes off her as he leant against one of the beams spreading the protective net out, feeling winded just watching her.

Eventually, (Y/N) came down and didn't launch herself back in the air. Instead, she settled on her feet and looked to Harry with glazed eyes and glowing cheeks.

"What are you thinking about?" she questioned, sinking to sit on the center of the trampoline. She patted her hand flat on the spot beside her, beckoning Harry to take the space.

"Nothing," Harry said, shaking his head as he took careful strides to stop next to her, "Jus' nice out tonight, that's all."

"Yeah," she sighed dreamily, looking towards the clear sky, "You're right." She lent back with her hands splayed behind her to prop her up. Craning her neck, she gazed all around the starry expanse over their heads. After a moment, she lost some of her balance and fell flat on her back with a feathery smile on her features.

When she didn't sit up and laid with her hooded eyes pinned on the sky, Harry nudged her gently with his knee. "Y'alright?" he prosed, voice gentle.

Her attention slid from the stars and landed squarely on Harry with glossy eyes. "Lay with me?"

The lopsided smile on his features picked a single dimple into his cheek. Nudging her again, he laid himself in the space beside her, taken aback when she pulled on his arm to extend it out for her. Before he even had a chance to settle, (Y/N) was already cuddling into his side with his bicep acting as her pillow.

His heart was beating a mile a minute as he laid down, toes curling in his socks. He knew he was supposed to be staring at the sky and picking out the shapes in the stars with her, but he couldn't stop himself before his eyes shuttered closed with a shaky breath filling his lungs. He felt clean—refreshed—to finally be so close to her. This somehow felt more intense than the way she was dancing on him earlier, the cover of the quiet making it so there was nothing else to concentrate on but the curve of her form pressed into his side.

"Will you play a game with me?" (Y/N) asked quietly, hooking her ankle around his own and effectively stopping Harry's heart.

"What game?"

"Well," she prattled, reaching for the stuffed kitten he had stowed away in one of the large pockets of his coat. She cradled the plush to her chest with her fingertips absently combing through the fur and brushing against it's nose, "I want to get to know you, so—I know it's kind of stupid, but do you want to play twenty questions?"

The butterflies in his stomach moved in a full-fledged kaleidoscope through his stomach and flapped their wings against the chambers of his heart. God, she was so cute.

"You first, then."

—————

Harry hadn't kept count but he was sure they played way more than only twenty questions.

(Y/N) had asked him twice what his favorite animal was (he answered differently both times), and found out what his top five favorite songs were but only after she accidentally answered it herself. The whole time Harry had a smile on his face bright enough to rival the moon above them. He learned that she wanted to dress like a go-go dancer to class everyday, but it took too much effort and yellow wasn't always her color. She told him her favorite subject in high school was a tie between History and Home Ec.—she loved her history teacher, but getting to eat almost every day in home ec. was hard to compete with. All the while, Harry kept his arm securely around her with his shoulder acting as her pillow.

As their game went on, (Y/N)'s words started to slur and grew slower and slower. He figured that all of the alcohol was now starting to catch up with her, but when he asked her a question that gained no response, he chanced a look at her. He found her fast asleep beside him with her hands hiding the prop cat in her chest. She pressed herself into his side for warmth with the sleeves of her top draped over her exposed tummy like a sort of blanket. Her ankle was still hooked around his own, keeping him close as if he had anywhere else to be.

Though his arm was starting to fall asleep with pinpricks of static pain appearing in the muscle, he didn't move her. He tried his best not to even shift in hopes of keeping her quietly asleep cuddled into his side. The stars above him became his entertainment, the game of connect-the-dots in his head suddenly morphing into portraits of the girl under his arm.

When he heard footsteps approaching the trampoline, Harry didn't pay it any mind, figuring it was just another straggler wondering why there were two people laid out in the middle of the nylon.

"Harry, is that you?"

He jumped at the sound of his own name from a semi-familiar voice. He turned his head as best he could without jostling (Y/N) to find Naomi peeking through the unzipped entrance. Her shoulders were tensed with her brows furrowed. "Y-Yeah," he stuttered, voice kept quiet, "Is everything okay?"

"Is that (Y/N) with you?" she pressed, trying to peer over Harry's build to the spot of yellow and pink at his side.

"Um, yeah. She's right here; she fell asleep," he elaborated, fighting the awkward angle in his neck that threatened to pull a muscle with the way he was straining it to face her.

Ny relaxed with the set in her shoulders finally deflating. "Oh, good," she sighed, "I've been looking for her for the last ten minutes. Thank you for hanging out with her all night, though. She was so nervous you weren't going to come."

Harry hoped (Y/N)'s roommate wouldn't catch the brightened hue that flooded his cheeks as he smiled. "Really?"

Her blue eyes scanned over his features and the poorly hidden affection he held in them. He was smitten with (Y/N), what could he say?

She peered over him for a second to catch sight of (Y/N) on the other side. "Don't tell her I told you this because she'd kill me, but," she started before dropping her gaze to match his, "She really likes you. She talks about you all the time at home; she always goes on about how cool and nice she thinks you are. I know she was really wanting to see you tonight, and it made her really happy that you showed up. So, thanks for watching out for her even if all she did was fall asleep on you."

He knew his cheeks must be beet red at this point. The pounding of his heart was loud enough that he feared (Y/N) would feel the vibrations going through his veins and wake up. But, god, how could he be worried or concerned about anything when Ny had told him all of that. (Y/N) was always so cool and collected around him—exceedingly kind, but he figured that was more of  a trait she held instead of something special for him—, so he never quite fathomed that she might have an inkling of feelings for him. Mitch was going to have a heyday getting to tell him I told you so.

Swallowing around his heart in his throat, Harry tried to speak over the sound of the beats. "I... I really like her, too. She's very nice."

He cringed at the impersonal compliment that fell from his lips, but it was all his muddled brain could come up with. Ny let out an airy laugh nonetheless, a knowing smile on her lips. He was exactly like (Y/N) described him, she thought.

"So, I called an Uber for her and I," she said, jerking his chin towards (Y/N), "It should be here in the next couple of minutes... Unless, you were planning on taking her home?"

For a flicker, Harry wanted nothing more than to be selfish and take up the job of getting her home. He would wait until she woke or until he decided it was too cold for her to continue to sleep outside, then he would get the privilege of driving her home and spending that much more time with her. But, when he tossed his gaze back to the go-go dancer beside him, he knew that wasn't fair to her. She was dead on her feet, tired enough to have fallen asleep outside in the middle of talking to him in a mini skirt and crop top. It wasn't fair to keep her out when she had a warm bed at home to fall into.

"No," he shook his head, beginning to gently move his arm out from under her and sit up, "She needs to get some rest in a real bed." He caught just the edge of Naomi's soft smile before he directed the full of his attention to (Y/N). He slipped his arm out from around her, (Y/N) trying to follow the warmth he was taking away as she stretched. He settled his hand on her shoulder, circulation slowly returning in somewhat painful pulses. "(Y/N)," he cooed, voice soft in the dark, "Gotta wake up. Naomi's here and she's got a car waiting out front to take y'home."

A groggy groan came from her lips in conjunction with a stretch of her limbs. Her eyes stayed shuttered closed until Harry uttered another soft call of her name. She blinked them open, gifting him with the eyes he had seen in the stars only ten minutes prior. Though her gaze was hooded, she pinned her eyes right on Harry.

"What?" she sounded, a rasp to her unused voice.

Harry let out an airy laugh. "Ny's here to take y'home."

"Oh," she sighed, relaxing back into the nylon that acted as her mattress. Her eyes flitted over his form before settling on his face, "Are you coming with us?"

He knew logically that it was impossible for a heart to bound out of a chest or a smile to embed itself on his lips, but, in this moment, he felt he could question all of that.

"No, not tonight," he reasoned, sliding his guiding hand to sit between her shoulder blades as she sat up, "But, y'can text me when y'get home safely. We can keep talking until y'fall asleep, too, if y'wanted."

A contented smile settled on her lips as she nodded her head, "I do want that."

Harry followed after her like a puppy as they slid off the trampoline. (Y/N) passed the stuffed animal back to him before dropping to the ground, not even bothering to slip back into her boots despite the dew covering the grass. Ny was silent as she watched them interact, Harry feeling her eyes as he helped ensure (Y/N) was steady on her feet and she had everything she needed. Naomi continued to allow them to have their moment as they worked their way through the pulsing party (Harry was especially diligent about ensuring no one stomped on (Y/N)'s bare feet and she didn't step on anything that could hurt her), (Y/N) more than once looking over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still following.

Once they made it to the porch out front, the space much less crowded than when Harry arrived, (Y/N) pivoted on her heel despite Ny continuing her path to the waiting car at the curb. She let go of Harry's hand—to his dismay—, but the disappointment was short-lived before she had her arms wrapped around his middle and her cheek smushed against his chest.

"Thank you for coming tonight, Harry," she mumbled, words distorted from the fact she refused to pull even a hair away from him, "Happy Halloween."

Though his response time lagged as he tried to render if he was in a dream or not, Harry looped his arms around her waist and held (Y/N) tightly to his chest. He didn't mind the way the boots she still held in her hand banged against the small of his back or how far he had to lean down to get a comfortable hold on her. Nothing could ruin this moment for him.

He dared to dip down and rest his nose in her hair, his eyes fluttering closed. "Happy Halloween, (Y/N)," he mumbled into the crown of her head, reveling in her touch.

All too soon, she released him. Taking a step back, she looked up to him with the beaming smile he was hoping to memorize and get him through the weekend. "I'll see you on Monday, right?" she asked as she quietly started edging away to where Ny was waiting.

He swallowed around the raging beats of his heart. "Yeah, I'll see y'Monday."

When he let her go, his hands fell to his sides with his palm brushing against the synthetic fur of his stuffed kitten. Pinning his eyes on her retreating form, Harry had one more idea to get one last spare moment with her before the magic of the night ended when she drove away.

She had only made it down a pair of steps leading to the concrete walkway that led to the sidewalk before Harry stopped her. "(Y/N), wait, hold on."

Perking up at the sound of her name, she turned on her toes with a question lacing her brows together. Harry scrambled to meet her on the steps as he clumsily reached for the cat. "Yo-You can have this," he stuttered, offering up the plush with a bright red flush sitting on the apples of his cheeks, "Since y'fell asleep with it and all, y'can take her home. She's yours."

(Y/N) tucked the length of her go-go boots under her arm, delicately taking the item from his hands with a matching smile on her lips. "She?"

His skin took on an even redder hue as he realized his slip. "Um, yeah," he laughed, fixing his gaze on the stuffed animal as if that would hide his embarrassment from her eyes, "I was jus' thinking of it as a girl, but it can be whatever y'want."

"No, you're right, I like that. She's a little girl." (Y/N) looked to him with the stars in her eyes, rivaling that of the patterns that were hung in the sky above them. Even if they were talking about something as silly as the prop he brought for his costume, Harry wasn't able to shake the rose colored lens he looked at her through.

Peeking over the top of her head, Harry caught Naomi looking at the pair of them with softened eyes before the Uber driver called something out to her—most likely an urge for her to collect her friend so they could leave. Ny nodded her head and said something before casting her gaze back to Harry with an apologetic smile on her face.

"I think your Uber is getting upset," he mumbled to (Y/N), "Y'should probably go."

Glancing over her shoulder, (Y/N) caught Ny beckoning her over with a wave of her hand. "Yeah, probably," she told Harry, edging towards her friend though she never drew her eyes away from him. With the kitten in her arms she asked him, "I'll text you when we get home?"

"Please."

Harry had his eyes on her until she was safe in the right Uber, Naomi tossing him a wave goodbye before she shut the door after them. Something of a daze passed over him as he made his way down to his own car a block over, nothing truly processing until he was in the quiet of his car.

He fucking loved Halloween.

—————

Harry was going to ask (Y/N) on a date.

After the party, he hadn't been able to keep himself from calling Mitch at one a.m. and spilling all the details about the past few hours. Sarah had been with him, and when Mitch transferred him to speaker, he got both of their opinions on all the things they considered "signs" that (Y/N) liked him just as much back (Sarah had cooed when he mentioned the hug), and the small revelation that Naomi had shared with him. In the end, they only backed up his decision to ask her out on Monday come their physics class. Mitch had even sent him a text that morning encouraging him to go for it, a quick pep talk to keep Harry from chickening out.

That's how Harry found himself arriving an additional five minutes early to the usual ten minutes he made it before Professor Stanfill started lecture. He was more than jittery as he took his spot next to (Y/N)'s unassigned-assigned seat. His hands were shaky with sweaty palms as he laid out his materials, eyes darting to the main door every few seconds in anticipation of her arrival. He already had a script of how he wanted to ask her, now all he needed was her.

He was on his fifth rehearsal in his head of how exactly he was going to ask her to dinner with him when (Y/N) finally stepped through the double doors that lead to the hall. She had a sleepy smile on her face as she scaled the stairs, the curl growing wider when she caught sight of him with his eyes already on her.

"Hey Harry," she greeted him once she was in range, "How are you?"

Bundling his hands in his lap to cover their trembling, Harry put a tight smile on his lips. "'M...'M really good," he sighed, his heartbeat growing louder in his ears, "How are you?"

Sitting down, (Y/N) reached for her laptop with an airy smile coloring her features, "Still recouping from Saturday, but I'm honestly doing a lot better than I thought I would be today."

"Saturday was a lot of fun, though," Harry muttered, having to fight off the grin that was threatening to explode over his face. He still had work to do before he could celebrate.

(Y/N) didn't get the memo as her smile grew wide over her cheeks and threatened to crinkle her eyes closed. She glanced at him from where she was pulling up her notes, "Yeah, it was."

Harry took a steadying breath as she paused, finding the right moment to ask the question that was running through his head like a mantra. Tightening his hands into fists, he broadened his shoulders and hoped the coaching Mitch sent him would be enough motivation.

"(Y/N), I wanted to ask y'something before class started actuall—"

"(Y/N)!"

A rowdy call of her name cut Harry off before he could even get the full of his words out. He followed the line of (Y/N)'s sight as she whipped her head toward the main doors she had crossed only a few minutes prior. There, a man stood with bronze hair standing in peeks on the top of his head with an award winning smile on his face. He wasn't anyone that Harry recognized, but (Y/N) was more than familiar with him if the smile on her face was anything to go by.

"Trystan," she called as he drew closer, a togo cup from the coffee shop (Y/N) usually brought with her in his hand, "What are you doing here?"

Harry was sure that if he squinted and read the cardboard sleeve on the cup, it would detail out a chai latte, two pumps of pumpkin flavor with an almond milk substitute.

"Just bringing you the chai I owed you from the other night," he—Trystan—beamed, sliding the cup onto the counter beside (Y/N), "It's still really hot, so be careful, hun."

(Y/N) face lit up at his words, mouth dropping into a grin though her eyes were never taken from his own. "Oh my god! Thank you so much! I wasn't even serious about that, but thank you!"

Trystan shook his head and nudged the cup closer to her, "Don't worry about it—it's the least I could do." Before (Y/N) could even reach for her new latte or take a sip, Trystan stood to the full of his height and opened his arms wide enough to rival his broad smile. "But I'm not leaving without one of these," he sang, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Harry watched on as (Y/N) gave a fluttering laugh and a playful roll of her eyes before standing from her seat. She wrapped her arms around him in the same way Harry had burned into his head. Trystan even dropped his head and whispered something to (Y/N) that caused a laugh to float through the air and travel with enough gusto to bruise Harry's heart. It hurt more than he liked to think about.

"I'll text you later, okay? Let me know how it goes" (Y/N) called as she let go, her friend running off though he tossed bright smiles over his shoulder at her. Harry didn't have it in himself to keep track of Trystan's response, the world around him going out of focus as his heart pumped at a pace that hurt his chest.

What had he been thinking? He really let everyone's encouragement go to his head when he should have listened to his instincts. Of course, she didn't like him, she was just a nice person who liked him as a friend and felt bad about his lack of party experience. She was drunk that night, of course she was going to be affectionate. Maybe he wasn't as smart as he thought he was if something like this had flown right over his head.

As Stanfill puttered about the front of the classroom, readying to begin his lecture, (Y/N) finally turned to face him with a smile he could only describe as smitten and the offending chai latte warming her palm. "Sorry, what were you saying, Harry?

He shook his head, busying himself with reaching for his glasses tucked in his bag. "It was nothing—I already forgot." He forced out a laugh to soften the stiff words.

(Y/N) hadn't a clue in the world as she joined in with a breathy laugh escaping her lips, "Okay, well, let me know if you remember."

"I will."

He wasn't ever going to 'remember'.

—————

magnetism is the force between two charges that draws them together

sooooooo much happens in this one its one of the longest parts in the whole piece!!!! thank u sososo much for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any questions or ideas/predictions about next week's part send them in !!!!!

Perfect To Me

prompt: harry loses his ring at coachella but luckily the right fan finds it

warnings: depictions of an anxiety attack, a pinch of smut, minors dni 18+

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

check out weekend one fic ——> here

💕💕💕💕💕

Harry was having the time of his life, Coachella two weekends in a row seemed unreal but as he danced across stage with hundreds of thousands of fans - reality was much better than a dream.

Lizzo had done incredible, he couldn’t have found a better person to cover I Will Survive with and the energy of the crowd was palpable.

YN was enjoying the show just as much with her friends in the small vip section off to the side in front of the stage - it was the same people as last week but Alessandro, Harris, Gemma, among others that made it even more exciting.

It had also been hotter than the weekend before, sweat was dripping down his temple and the leather of his ensemble was sticking rather uncomfortably to his damp body.

Kiwi was by far in his top songs that he loved to perform live, it was no different this time as Harry is absolutely headbanging, dancing, losing it to his own song.

YN loved watching him get so lost in the moment that he doesn’t care that anyone is watching him, she could see the telltale signs of him reaching his limit before his energy started to drop off.

Harry wasn’t thinking, he was completely immersed in the experience that he didn’t notice his wedding band sliding on his finger from the sweat and water he’d spilled when he sipped from his water bottle with jittery hands.

When he’s parading down the runway, he whips his water bottle around - spraying the fans with water before slamming it off the ground and the plastic goes flying.

It’s when the bottle leaves his hand, he feels his ring slip right off with it but it’s too late when he looks down at his hand to notice his fucking wedding band is missing.

The ring he never took off.

Even when he went without all of the bulky, heavy rings he liked to wear, he can’t remember the last time he’d taken off - so much so that there’s a tanline highlighting where the band had covered his skin.

Music pounding in his ears, adrenaline rushing through his body - he still manages to sing but is now panicking because he knows the ring went flying off the stage into the crowd.

He feels like he’s about to have a full fledged panic attack - something he hasn’t had for a very long time because he just lost his most treasured possession in a crowd of young adults who he knows would snatch it up in a heartbeat without any thoughts to return it to him.

YN notices that he’s off almost instantly, she watches as his vocals tighten up and he’s not dancing nearly as much as he was before, his eyes darting over the crowd quickly like he’s searching for someone or something.

She wonders briefly if someone threw something at him and hurt him, that’s happened in the past too many times to count.

As the song comes to an end, Harry makes his way back to his main microphone stand for the finale of Sign of the Times and on one of the very first notes, his voice cracks like it rarely ever does unless he’s really not focusing on his vocals.

YN is already weaving through the crowd with her bodyguard to get to the side stage to greet him when he is done because now she’s concerned.

Harry can barely focus on remembering his own lyrics to a song he’s sung countless times, keeps looking his his left hand as if he just expects it to reappear.

The thing is, Harry has lost things in the past and hasn’t gotten them returned.

Instead pictures end up plastered all over Twitter of people celebrating their find and bragging about it to others.

He doesn’t think he could bear to see a picture of his wedding band circulating on Twitter as a fan shows off the most important things he owns like it is meaningless.

It’s not even about the price of the ring, it was the fact that his wife had slid it down his finger during a ceremony where they committed themselves to each other for their entire lives.

It was the fact that it symbolizes so much.

-

“Do you think we’re too young to get married?” YN asks self-consciously, one night after a stop on their Where We Are Tour, crammed into a small bunk on the tour bus.

Harry who had been toying with her engagement ring on her finger looks up with a frown, “Why would you say that?”

YN shrugs dismissively before murmuring, “I overheard Eleanor and Salma talking in the dressing room. They said I’m stupid for saying yes because you’re not going to settle down when you could get anyone you wanted.”

Harry can’t help but laugh, smoothing out the furrow between her brow when she gives in a disgruntled glare.

“Just don’t how you could even bloody listen to their bullshit for more than a minute, really,” He chuckles softly, “I’ve wanted to make you m’wife since we were sixteen. I’ve waiting long enough. I want to experience this life with you. No one else. Pretty soon I’ll have a ring on my finger that shows the world too.”

-

When he misses her, if she wasn’t on tour, he’ll just twirling the band as a way to feel closer to her and not to mention the absolute arousal it made his wife feel when she saw that ring on his finger.

She’s pulled him aside an embarrassing amount of times just to jump his bones because of how sexy it was that he had a wedding band on his finger.

-

“Sweetheart, wha’ brought this on?” Harry giggles between the kisses that YN was laying on his lips as she hurriedly tried to unbutton his shirt.

“Just look so domestic,” She replies, determined to get him naked with rushed movements, lips moving down his chest as he’s bared, “Have that ring on your finger, letting everyone know you’re mine.”

And as soon as her lips wrap around him, his head is clunking against the wall and he’s moaning, “Yeah, baby. Yeah, I’m yours. S’yours.”

-

He was terrified that his wife was going to be furious with him for being irresponsible or that she was going to be heartbroken because he doesn’t want either because he was just as upset as she will be.

Harry was definitely on the verge of an anxiety attack as he shied away from the high notes at the end of the song - his throat felt tight and it was a struggle to get the lyrics out.

The crowd doesn’t seem happy when Harry makes his final bow and goodbye speech barely a minute long before he’s disappearing off the side stage.

There’s even chatter about whether he’s doing an encore because of how quickly he left his set but once the lights come up, they grumble when they realize he wasn’t coming back out.

“Bunny, what is going on with you?” YN asks instantly when he meets her at the exit but he doesn’t respond, just shakes his head and drags her into the tent where, like last week, the crew is bustling around.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, H,” She states when he still hasn’t spoken but she’s confused when he just pulls her into a hug and buries his face in her hair - chest heaving and she’s not sure whether it’s from performing or something else, “You need to talk to me, baby.”

When he pulls back, she’s no longer just confused but alarmed when there’s tears streaming down his cheeks and his sniffling fiercely, “I-baby, I can’t breathe.”

“Yes, yes you can, bunny,” YN soothes softly, leading him to the couch; fully understanding he’s having a panic attack and needs comfort right now, “C’mon, let’s steady your breathing. Everything is okay.”

Harry sits down, tugging YN onto his lap and pushing his face into her shoulder now as he struggles to catch a breath between his tears.

She doesn’t remember the last time he’d had an anxiety attack like this, it’s been at least a year, it didn’t happen often.

The group of their friends are trailing back to them, chattering and oblivious until they get closer - YN motions to them that they need to get lost in the nicest way possible.

They appeared concerned but respect them, backing away and disappearing out into the field to give them space.

“H, I need you to try to catch your breath,” YN encourages as she weaves her hands into his damp locks, scratching at his scalp in an effort to calm down.

“M-my ring f-fell off. It went into th-the crowd, I’ve lost it,” He admits against her skin, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist to keep her as close as he possibly can.

“You’ve lost rings in the past. What is making you get this upset?” YN asks obliviously, she didn’t even think of his wedding band - she just assumed it was one of his many gucci rings that had been a gift.

YN clearly remembers Harry losing his rose ring during a concert and being bummed that he couldn’t find it but not this inconsolable.

“My we-wedding band,” Harry whispers, bringing up his hand to show her before saying between tears, “I know it’s gone. No ones gonna return it. They never do. Baby, m’sorry. Please don’t be cross with me, I can believe I was so stupid and -“

YN is upset that Harry lost his wedding band but it’s not directed at him, not his fault that it slipped off and disappeared into a crowd of a hundred thousand people.

Of course the ring means a lot to her, is symbolic of their relationship and marriage but at the end of the day, it wasn’t worth Harry having a breakdown because though the ring was special, it wasn’t as important as Harry being okay.

She takes her thumbs and runs them along his stubbly cheeks, wiping away the wetness as he stares sadly at her - eyes wide and guilty.

“I would never be mad at you over something like this,” YN chuckles at him as he tilts his head to the side to kiss her palm, “I’m sad that it’s lost but accidents happen. I’m more worried about you having a panic attack than a piece of jewelry.”

“It’s my favorite possession,” Harry rasps, relieved that she wasn’t furious or heartbroken like he was catastrophizing would happen.

-

“I can’t believe I’m a married man,” Harry murmurs happily as the wind lightly blows around them in the crisp, salty night air.

“Tied down at twenty,” YN giggles from where she’s lounging against his chest, laid between his legs on the lounger, “You're giving up a lot of opportunities, rockstar.”

“Not giving up anything,” He corrects her, letting her twist the band back and forth on his finger, “Our age doesn’t matter, my love. Belonged to you since we were kids anyways. M’yours, my body, mind, has and always will be yours. Now you just officially own me.”

YN brings his left hand up to her lips, kissing his ring, and then the palm of his hand before snuggling further back into his warmth, “My husband.”

“Yeah, baby. M’your husband,” Harry agrees once again as they watch the waves crash down on each other before fading out at the shore.

-

“I hate seeing you this devastated, it’s breaking my heart,” YN frowns as she continues to wipe at the falling tears, “I just want you to be happy, celebrating all this success.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Harry sighs, leaning into her touch and purposefully avoiding the eye contact of all the curious crew, “I’m fucking everything up.”

“Don’t ever apologize for your feelings, bunny,” YN smiles lovingly, thumb running over his plump bottom lip, “Just take a few minutes and just breathe with me. I need you to get your breathing under control or you’re going to get light headed.”

Harry nods in agreement, let’s YN guide his head until his ear is against her chest where he can hear the calming, steady thumping of her heart and tries to match the pace - squeezing his eyes closed and inhaling through his nose.

She just holds him as he breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, her hands wandering all over him to keep him grounded, and giving harsh glares to anyone who even looks in their direction.

Then his sobs pick up again, not as much as before but YN titters and pulls his head up, searching his watery eyes and his flushed face, “What has gotten into you, baby?”

“Not only di-did I fuck up by losing my ring, now I’ve ruined the entire night. I had something planned to surprise you with and now it’s all fucked,” He whimpers unhappily, his jaw flexing and right now he looked like a sixteen year old boy again who just got declined at the first X factor round and she can’t stand it.

-

“I do-don’t know why I even bothered,” Harry cries as he walks off the main stage, surrounded by YN, Anne, Gemma, Robin, and his cousin, Matt.

“I’m so proud of you though,” YN tries to give him a small smile, she was disappointed for him but knew it had been a long shot.

“You don’t have to lie. I butchered the song, shouldn’t have sung it,” He huffs, using his scarf to wipe at the tears on his cheeks.

“Don’t have to believe me but I am,” YN argues as she drags him into a hug, “Can’t wait to tell everyone at school that my boyfriend sang in front of the X factor judges.”

“Really?” He sniffles, peeking up at her to make sure she isn’t lying before his name is being called to walk back onto the stage.

-

That was nearly twelve years ago but right now, as her now much more muscular, tall, manly husband still had the same expression he did then.

The same wet green eyes with thick, black eyelashes blinking up at her, his cheeks pink from scrubbing at them, his lips parted as he tried to breath steady.

She loved him so fucking much.

Right now, she felt extremely defensive of him and didn’t like all the stares that he was receiving even when he didn’t notice them.

YN slips off his lap, grabs his duffle, and scrounges until she pulls out his neon yellow pleasing hoodie, athletic shorts, new socks, and his nike running shoes.

“Let’s go back to the hotel. We’ll have more privacy there, okay?” YN murmurs as she helps him off the couch and shimmies off his vest before going to undo his belt buckle and button until he can step out of them and change his street clothes.

YN feels overdressed now in her one piece denim outfit with her cowgirl hat still hung around her neck with a string and boots that were blistering the back of her feet. *** (there’s also an HS on her bum)

Harry, despite how clouded he is by his anxiety and dread, always notices and doesn’t hesitate before he’s pulling out her more comfortable clothes as well.

Unlike him, she doesn’t have the confidence to strip her clothes in front of anyone and gives him a peck before running to the bathroom to change into a hoodie and black biker shorts, now comfortable slides on her feet.

When she steps out, Harry is waiting obediently by the door - eyes downcast and avoidant of anyone who comes near him.

She hated seeing him like this, crawling back into his shell and into himself when he felt unsure or upset instead of the bright beacon of light he usually is.

“Come on, my love,” YN hums softly, not giving him an option as she intertwines their hands - his much larger one completely encompassing hers.

YN doesn’t think this breakdown is just because of the ring or ruined night. She just guesses those were icing in the cake.

These major performances, headlining, releasing new music - it was overwhelming because people expected and relied so much on him that sometimes he just hit his breaking point and couldn’t take anymore stress.

Before they can exit the tent, Harry Lambert is calling after them - shouting at them to stop and YN tenses in preparation to give him a piece of her mind which was usually her husband’s job.

“What? We’re heading back to the hotel. Harry’s not trying on any outfits right now,” YN tells him firmly because sometimes he’ll try his luck at Harry testing out some new outfits sent in by designers.

“S’not that. There’s some fan who thinks she found Harry’s wedding band and she wants to return it to you. I looked at it and it’s a exact replica if it’s not yours but I told her -“

“Bring her back here,” Harry interrupts, flashing Lambert his bare ring finger, “It fell off during the set. I thought I lost it for good.”

“ I can just snag it from her-“

“I want to thank her,” He cuts him off again, his bottom lip almost quivering with relief - he’s trying not to give his hopes up but what are the chances.

-

Mariah doesn’t think she’s ever had more fun at a concert, only two people back from the barrier, and she could see every detail on Harry Styles’ outfit and body.

And not to mentioned YN’s, she looked unreal in the body hugging dark denim outfit with her chest on display and an HS on her bum to match Harry - like she was his property.

It was an unreal experience and she was devastated that it was over as the lights came up - atmosphere quickly dying out as the energy dissipates.

Harry had left the stage abruptly and without his normal farewell, she chalked it up to that he might have been feeling ill.

It takes a while for people to file out of the grassy area in an orderly fashion, when it’s finally her turn, she bends down to grab her purse when she notices a glint in the blades of grass.

Mariah curiously runs her hand across the area, bringing up a gold ring that has a large emerald cut diamond in the center.

***(imagine it in gold)

For a moment, she thinks that someone just lost a piece of costume jewelry but when she examines it closer - the diamond look real based on the way it sparkles when hit with her phone light.

It looks oddly familiar but she is not sure if she’s just imagining things, she flips it in her palm, and notices something engraved in the inside of the band.

eternally yours, (YN’s initial).

Holy shit.

Mariah was now ninety-five percent sure that this was none other than Harry fucking Styles ring and she just blinked down in it surprise.

She googles it quickly in her photo search, confirming it is his ring when a article pops up with the title.

Harry Styles Goes Nontraditional With His $125,000 Tiffany & Co. wedding band!

Mariah realizes she’s holding the amount that her college tuition cost in the palm of her hand right now - it was insane.

She had to get it back to him and has no idea how to do that.

Her hands were shaking as she glanced around at the remaining people around her, back to the small group where Harry's friends and family had been.

Mariah spots Harry Lambert speaking to someone she doesn’t recognize and she rushes over to the barrier, breathlessly interrupting, “Harry, Harry!”

The stylist gives her a bit of a confused glance before giving her a small wave and returning to his conversation.

She felt awkward, like she was being a bother but she spoke up again, “I think I have something that Harry Styles lost.”

That grabs the blond’s attention, saying something to his friend before he’s making his way over to the barrier - a perplexed expression on his face.

Mariah holds out the ring and the stylist takes it, brows furrowed as he examines it but she’s surprised when he doesn’t seem convinced - like it was just a knockoff replica and she was just trying to see if it could get her backstage to meet Harry.

“Let me go check with him,” Lambert replies hesitantly, handing the ring back to her before muttering, “I’ll be right back.”

-

It seems like an eternity but in reality, it was probably only ten minutes before Harry Lambert is reappearing to address Mariah, “Come with me.”

She’s shocked by this, she thought that if it was really his that his stylist would collect the piece of jewelry and send her on her merry way.

Very very quickly she realizes that she’s probably about to meet Harry Styles as Lambert guides her into the tent.

And she was right.

Mariah is absolutely shaking with nerves when she’s led into a lounge area where none other than her fucking idol and his wife are sitting.

Her eyes instantly begin tracing over every part of him close up - his stubble, how pink his lips are, how muscular he actually is.

His face is red, puffy like he’d been crying and Mariah wonders if it was because he had lost his wedding band, it makes her stomach drop.

He stands up with a small smile when Mariah and Lambert arrive in front of him, she brings her hand out and Harry reaches out with his palm - dropping the ring in it.

Harry swallows heavily as he gives the ring a quick once over before sliding it back down his ring finger as quickly as he possibly can.

“I cannot thank you enough…” Harry rasps, his voice was deep and his accent took her by surprise for some reason.

“Mariah,” She answers with a wide smile.

“Thank you, Mariah,” He reiterates softly, then he does the unexpected and tugs her into a tight hug, a big bear hug.

It didn’t feel like real life - Harry, Harry Styles was currently hugging her and she can smell how wonderful his cologne is, how strong he is, and warm.

The hug only lasts a moment but as soon as they separate she’s being embraced by another person, his wife before she pulls back and smiles at her.

“We are so incredibly grateful,” YN tells her sweetly before stepping back next to her husband, “Thank you for returning it to us.”

Mariah doesn’t miss how Harry’s arm snakes around his wife’s waist and brings her straight into the curve of his side, fingers squeezing lovingly at her plushy hip.

“Of-of course,” The fan responds with a stutter due to the nerves still flaring up in her belly at being in such close proximity to her favorite celebrity.

“Let us repay you,” Harry says as he eyes Jeff, “Go get some pleasing merch and a sharpie.”

Mariah thanks him multiple times as he hands her a massive bag full of free hoodies, scarves, polishes - he pulls out a few things to sign with a black marker.

Jeff reports that he has one more thing to grab for Mariah, Harry Lambert leads her over to the fridge and offers her a drink which she accepts a water.

While her and the stylist are making small talk, Mariah can't help but overhear Harry and YN’s hushed conversation.

YN had her hands around his neck, stepping on his toes, and murmuring to him, “See? Everything’s okay, bunny. Now stop worrying, I love you. You’re perfect to me, you know?”

Harry gives his wife an embarrassed smile before leaning down to brush his nose against hers, whispering something back to his wife that Mariah can’t hear.

Whatever he says makes YN giggles girlishly before pecking his lips three times before pulling away, laughing even more when Harry lips try to chase after hers for one more.

Mariah leaves the tent with an experience she’ll never forget, a bag full of sign merch, and tickets to one of Harry’s upcoming shows - front row.

She decides not to plaster their business all over the internet because seeing how in love the couple truly is reminds her of how they’re human just like her who deserve privacy and respect.

-

Harry’s surprise turned out to be that he got the roof of the hotel closed off, had his team set up candles, and flowers all around the rooftop pool in the hopes of a romantic date night.

“After you fucked me so good last weekend,” Harry rumbles when they arrive at the top floor and into the pool area, “I thought it’d be romantic to have a nice date up here, possibly some pool sex.”

“Mmm, the most romantic,” YN agrees with a chuckle because it was such a sweet gesture but she could also tell the panic attack took so much out of Harry.

Instead of stripping their clothes off to swim, YN guides them over to a hammock that was set up between two of the pillars and they pile in together.

She lets Harry be the one to get cuddled, he lays his head in her chest with his arm over her tummy, legs intertwined with hers.

His eyes are already drifting shut as she begins to rake her fingers through his messy locks, massaging at his temples with her thumbs.

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t have the chance because he’s lightly snoring within ten minutes of them even being in the hammock.

At the end of the day, the big bad sex symbol of a man was still the same sensitive boy she fell in love with all those years ago.

-

jungkook recs

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

e.r means established relationship :

yandere / mafia / bad boy

bloody love - smutty, king jk, evil jk, obsessed jk, posessive jk, blood thirsty jk like fr, he honestly loves bathing in the blood of those who did him wrong in his eyes, reader is lgb. this is an on going series but I´LL BE DAMNED IF IT ISN´T THE BEST THING I´VE READ in a minute!!, the writing its so captivating, not a single dull or boring moment, i can´t wait for the next part tbh

hybrid au / soulmate au / super hero au

his bunny - smut, fluff, bunny hybrid reader, fem reader, clingy reader

slice of life / university au / idol jk

soju - fluff, shy baby hubby jk, reader cooks him his fav meal and he basically looks at her with heart eyes, i love it

you make him go crazy - fluff, idol!jk, slight angst, multiple scenarios, reader is constantly making him go nuts, he is STRESSED lmao, it´s cute anyways, reader is kind of a careless brat but jk wouldn´t have it any other way

you wear his clothes - fluff, thing is...HE gives you his clothes, he´s so boyfriendd

all my fault - angst, fluffy end, hubby jk, in which you pass out after an argument and find him crying when you wake up

call me soon - summer break up, strangers to fwb to lovers, obsessed jk

screw up; over wine - finance major jk x model!reader, first date drabble, he is really into reader so he takes her to a fancy pricey wine and dine but guess wHAT.. he is broke lmao so he straight up PANICS, lowkey highkey secondhand embarrasment but it´s jk so it ends in a cute way

kiss me better -angst, jerk jk, mean jk, misunderstanding, manhandling, he is crying bc he assumed she was cheating but he was sooo wrong, now he is begging, crying, throwing up,,, they make up anyways, its angsty in a satisfying way

you´re leaving me - angst af, hubby!jk, daddy!jk, he found divorce papers after an argument and thought the worse, he starts going crrrazy but as always, it´s a happy ending

snowball - fluff, angst, crack, implied E2L, flashback from their college days. this is part of an upcoming series, and I already love it bc wdym it was lovE at first sight?? galaxy in his eyes, artsy space love talks, fireworks exploding in his chest bc ur giggles are his fav soundddd and everything?? I am HERE for it. he lit spaces out, brain dead, no other thoughts but youyouyou and your pretty self

you´re sleepy but you promised you´d go grocery shopping with him - e.r, its cuteeeee

movie night monday -fluff, e.r, he is impatient lmao, clingy cuddly loving fluffy jk

couple questions with vogue - fluff, e.r, idol!jk, supermodel!reader, I LOVE THISSSS, he is the best boyfriend/fiancé soon to be hubby EVER UGHHHH its so cute

devoted to trouble - fluff, lil angst, smut, comedy, spiderman!jk au inspired by seven??? a masterpiecE. the world finds out he is spiderman but he dgaf bc he only cares about you, #pininggg, reader playing hard to get, man i love tHIS

ceo au / sugardaddy au / rich bf au / coworker au

Over The Odds | The Confession - ceo jk, sugardaddy jk, jealous bf jk, sugar baby reader, he gets mad and yells bc he is lowkey insecure of her ex but reader is equaly in love. this is a series

wrong time -smut, angst, dilf!jk, ceo!jk, exes to lovers, workaholic as a scape mechanism, the one that got away type of stuff but she broke things up first for valid reasons, big big heartache but she´s still the love of his life

don´t blame me - sugar daddy!jk, ceo!jk, soft yan!jk, obsessive!jk, student!reader, unhealthy behavior on his part, manipulative behavior on her part, jealousy on both parts, he goes a lil too far but reader is bitchy and annoying, he lit gives her everythinggg she asks for, the man is..creazy about her in a very unhealthy way and she takes advantage of that, toxicc

failed quickie - cowerker jk, suggestive, they´re about to fucc on an elevator but it didn´t work, he likes his hair pulled!!1!

break up au / cheating au / fuckboy au

night after night - smut, angst, crack, fluff, semi-retired fuckboy jk, red flag jk, stalker jk, break up au, lovers to exes to lovers, he fucked around and found out so he is FREAKING ouT, also he is beggING okk.. we love that, he also has a Harley bc he is bad boy™, they make up anyways bc he is pussy whipped.. or in love, whatevs you wanna call it

seven plus one - smut, angst, they break up for like a week and that shit got him SIMPING fr, standing under the rain begging and stuff, the man is obsessed, we love it

painfully devoted - smut, angst, break up au, rockstar!jk, inspired by seven, toxic behavior, he luvs her fr but he needs to chill, he´s begging on his knees crying bc reader doesn´t want to hear aNY of it, follows her around to beg for another chance,basically her shadow, happy ending

pwp / fwb

woof, woof, woof - smut, angsty, kinda E2L, jealousy, toxic relationship, teasing , unprotected sex

you good?? - drabble, smut, "what if you gave jungkook head?" is righT bc i´ve been thinking about it for a min!!! he is mean ok yall know he is a brat buT, the head is too good to do all that, the man was shaKINg for godssakeee, so good he had to answer with a thumbs up bc reader drained him fr, left him so brain dead he couldn´t even speak

afterglow - smut, fwb!jk, slight possessive!jungkook, dirty talking, degrading nicknames, but he cares ok, he´s trying to get out of the friend zone

every side of you - very pwp, he is a rough sex loverrr, he compares readers moans with angelic melodies like??? he´s so romantic like that, but also: degrading dirty talk, he is rouGH alright, straight up clingy bf after sex, sweet loving talk + cute cute aftercare, he is just pERFECT

come sit on my lap - pwp, lots of praisingg, they way this is written is good yall, "use me" , “so polite” shUT UPPPP im literally blushing, AND he is also cute at the end?? i hate it heREEEE :´)

birthday gift - honoring his 26th birthday with this masterpiece, he like to talkkkk ok?? dirty talk, degrading nicknames kinda talk, "dumb bitch" kinda talk, growling while he calls you names, i was shook fr

he has a lot of cum - boyfriend!jk, the title I- , he DOES have a lot of cum, lots of stamina, lots of everYTHING, and on toP of those small details, wdym he wants to see how many times he can cum in you before it´s too full and it starts to spill????? somebody stop this man

dios como amo ser argentina como amo este escrito como te amo uma GRACIAS

AT LEAST I'M TRYING

THIS... THIS IS FOR ALL MY ARGENTINIAN BESTIES. THIS IS HARRY MAKING AND TASTING HIS OWN MATE. FOR OBVIOUS REASONS THIS IS LATINA!READER.

HARRY'S MASTERLIST | click here if you don't know what a mate is.

━━━━━━━

When Y/N wakes up from a good nap on the couch, she didn't expect to hear those murmurs from the kitchen.

"How the fuck…– Christ, this looks like fucking soup."

She stands up, running a hand over her face while whispering "como me jode que me despierten de la siesta." how it annoys me to be woken up from my nap. And she enters the kitchen, seeing her boyfriend from behind.

"H?"

Harry turns around scared. "Baby, I woke you up, sorry."

She moves closer to him. "No pasa nada." It's nothing. She tries to see what's behind him, but he hides it. "What are you hiding, mhm?"

The British was about to reply, but a voice on his phone gave him away. "Y así es como tienen su mate perfecto." and this is how you'll have your perfect mate.

Y/N dodged Harry and saw his phone on the counter, with a video tutorial on how to make a mate, and next to it, his mate that actually looked like soup. "Harry..."

He looked at her flushed, loving the overpronunciation on the H that made his name sound different. "Wanted to surprise yeh. Shit, m'sorry."

The Argentine laughs, feeling her heart beating wildly in her chest, and approaches her boyfriend to hug him by the neck and look him in the eyes.

"Que lindo que sos." you're so cute.

"Is that good or bad?"

She just kisses him with a smile on her face and that seems to put Harry at ease. When they part, she grabs his hand to drag him to the counter, pause the video and grab the mate.

"I'm gonna teach you how to make a good mate, okay?"

He nods, and pays close attention to his girl. He listens as she explains how to put the maté in, how much, how to arrange the straw, everything.

"And the sugar depends on your taste, there are people who like it bitter." Y/N finishes, looking at him. "And I'm a faithful believer that you like your mate bitter."

"Yeah? and why's that?" Harry asks, as he prepares to make his own.

"Just make the mate, will you?"

He laughs, trying to disguise his nerves, and begins pouring the yerba into the wooden cup. He repeats the directions the girl gave him minutes ago, and when he finishes, he looks somewhat satisfied.

"It looks good." Y/N murmurs, and starts pouring hot water slowly into the mate.

When she tastes it, her face says nothing, but Harry knows it's not bad. "Let's see... it needs a lot of practice, and I think if my family tasted this, they'd kill you. But it's good, baby."

Harry smiles with his mouth open. "Really?"

"Posta." For real. She replies, sipping on her mate. "Try it."

He tastes it and lets out a hum, it's good, you can taste the maté, but Y/N's right, it'd be better if it was bitter. He can't help the laughter that comes out of his chest, he thought it would be a catastrophe, but he's made his love proud of him. And that was everything.

His

Summary: you’ve always been in love with your best friend, JJ, and now you can’t take anymore of him breaking your heart.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, swearing

JJ had always been your best friend, you couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t around. For as long as you could remember, he had always been there for you, always taking care of you, making you his number one priority.

You two were attached to the hip, there were barely any days without seeing each other, even less now that summer had come around. Days consisted of surfing, chilling at the Chateau and chasing adventures with the pogues. Nights were either spent at John B’s or at yours. You lived with your uncles, who had gotten your custody when your parents had died when you were 2, and they were used to JJ being around all the time.

Confessing you were in love with him wasn’t anything you were planning on doing anytime soon. It wasn’t like it was something crazy, seeing as you two had hooked up quite a lot of times. It had simply happened one day, he had been your first time.

You weren’t his, of course. And while you had never been with any other guy, he had a lot of flings. You never mentioned anything about his many hookups, and always stayed silent meanwhile your heart shuttered every time. The pain of seeing him with other girls was a lot more bearable than the one you would have to go through when you would be rejected by your soulmate and the same one you knew you couldn’t take. This was the whole reason you didn’t want to confess your feeling: you knew he would tell you he loved you, but not in that way.

You could see the way Kie looked at you sympathetically those times.

When the pogues had found out what had happened between you and JJ they had been extremely weirded out by the whole situation and how you two were only managing to remain best friends. They couldn’t shut up about it. Then as time went on and it reoccurred time after time, they became used to the whole thing and almost never questioned nor mentioned it anymore, besides the occasional jokes. Although you had a feeling Kie suspected your true feelings, as she would sometimes ask you suspicious questions. Sarah had recently joined the group, so she had naturally asked what was going on between you two and once you explained it to her, she almost never said anything. But again, you had a feeling she also suspected something.

Deny, deny, deny.

So, you continued to stay silent and let him break your heart more and more every time he fucked you.

This was one of those nights.

You were in your bed watching a movie, his back against the headboard and yours on him. His hands were gently caressing your arms while your hands rested on his thighs.

You felt content, at home.

You felt his gentle touch slowly moving to your sides and then your inner thighs. Your heartbeat pounded wildly against your ribcage, you immediately knew where this was going.

He lowered his head so that it was next to yours, his chin on your shoulder.

“Hey.” He whispered, kissing your cheek.

“Hey.” You turned your head slightly to look at him, and the look in his eyes almost knocked the breath out of you. It was so intense and passionate.

He dragged his hands from your thighs to your stomach, slowly. Then they rested on your hips, turning you so you were sideways, now properly looking at him.

His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips.

“So beautiful.” He was looking at you like… he felt something for you. You knew he didn’t.

This wasn’t new, he was always complimenting you. He told you all the time you were the hottest girl on the whole island, making you scoff and roll your eyes every time, while in reality you would die inside. This being usual didn’t mean it didn’t make you blush each time.

“It’s cute how you always blush.” He said before connecting your lips.

You smiled against his lips, moving your hand higher on his thighs. Nearer his man area.

He softly moaned, tightening his grip on your hips. He was now kissing your neck, his favorite place to kiss. That made you crazy.

“Shirt.” He briefly instructed before you raised your arms to facilitate his actions while he removed it.

His eyes were immediately on your breasts, covered by a black laced bra. He had always told you how much he loved them.

You quickly reconnected your lips, entangling your hands in his hair. Kissing him felt so good.

After some minutes of making out and him praising you and your body, he removed your shorts too, leaving you in only your underwear.

His own shorts were the next item to go, his boxers the only thing keeping him from being naked seeing as he had already been shirtless.

“Come here.” He sat comfortably against the headboard again, suggesting for you to get on his lap.

You turned completely now, your thighs around him as you sat on him. Your crotches were now connecting, only separated by your underwear. You let out a soft sigh at the feeling of the new found fraction between you.

His hands found your ass, squeezing possessively. He was particularly eager tonight, you two would usually have some foreplay before actually fucking. It seemed like he wanted you as soon as possible.

You could start to feel hickeys forming where his lips lingered a bit too much, causing moans to escape your plump lips. Your hips started grinding against him, desperate for more.

“JJ.” You simply stated, knowing he would get the hint.

He lifted you by your waist, hinting for you to give him space to remove his boxers, then roughly taking off your own underwear.

He aligned his member against your core, sneaking his other hand around your neck.

The feeling of him inside of you when you lowered yourself on him made you lose your mind. God, he was big.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathed out.

You moved your hips up and down, your pace fastening just how he liked it. His other hand made his way around your back to undo your bra, its straps falling off of your shoulders before he removed it completely.

His hand then cupped your breast, the other resting on your neck. It made you crazy.

You continued to move on him, relishing at the sounds coming deep from his throat.

“You look so hot riding me.” He breathed, following a sloppy kiss.

“JJ.” He knew the effect he had on you.

“Only for me, right baby?” He was looking you into your eyes so deeply you almost cried when he said this. Of course it was only him. But he wasn’t just yours.

“Only.” His hands gripped your hips to hold them still when you didn’t respond, him now pounding inside of you.

“For.” A thrust.

“Me.” An harder one.

“Isn’t that right, baby?” You were now almost crying from pleasure.

“Only for you, J.” You panted in between moans.

He smirked at your reply, kissing you while thrusting harder and harder.

You thought you could die at how good he looked.

Your hands entangled behind his neck, holding him tight. Your kisses were sloppy and giving you butterflies, his hands now gripping your ass.

He then grabbed you and turned you around, so that you were lying on your back, positioning himself between your legs. You let out a scream when he entered you again forcefully. His groans while pounding inside of you were almost making you come alone. You wrapped your legs around his back and your arms around his neck, letting your bodies become one.

Your vision became blurred from all the pleasure.

“You feel so good, baby.” His words made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

His pace was becoming faster and every thrust was stronger than the previous one, you were moaning loudly.

“Do you like having me inside of you, y/n/n?” He breathed in your ear.

“Yes, JJ.” You breathed out in between moans. “It feels so good.”

This made him go even harder. Bruises were now forming in the places his lips were lingering on, kissing, sucking and biting your skin.

“Yeah?” Fuck he was so hot.

“You’re the only one who could ever make me feel this good, J.” You continued, knowing how it would affect him.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned.

Feeling yourself getting closer, you decided to make him come. He loved you using your words.

“It’s true, J.” You were now giving him open mouthed kisses. “You know you’re the only one who can fuck me whenever he fucking wants.”

Another groan. You could tell by the way he was moving he was getting close.

“I am?” He prompted you to go on.

“Yes.” You dragged your hands from his back to his hair, making sure to leave scratches behind.

“And why is that, Y/N?” He sounded so close.

Cause I fucking love you, idiot.

“Cause nobody else could ever be this good to me, J.” You kissed him, now pulling his hair. “But you already know that, right?” You gasped at a particularly hard push. “You know you can fuck me whenever you feel like it.”

This sent him over the edge.

“Of course I fucking know that. This body is mine to begin with.” he groaned while coming inside of you.

That made you finish, shaking and arching your back. You pulled his hair so hard that if you weren’t so immersed in your pleasure you would actually worry of hurting him.

He collapsed on you, exhausted, his lips leaving wet kisses on your shoulder.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

You let yourselves cuddle for a few minutes while you thought about how much you wished he wouldn’t be doing this the following night with some random girl before he was standing up and taking you with him to take a shower. You had almost feared he would have left when he had stood up.

He was the first one to get in the shower, the water cascading down on him making him look like a god. He took your hand and pulled you in. The water was hot making you relax completely. You felt his hands sneaking around your waist and pulling you on him, your back facing his front. His face rested on your shoulder and you both stood under the hot water, your hands finding his. You threw your head back so that it rested on him.

He began to swing the both of you side to side, almost dancing. This was so perfect you could cry.

It wasn’t the first time you two showered together, but something felt so innocent and pure this time. It was almost different.

A gentle kiss was placed on your shoulder, his soft lips lingering there for some moments before he broke the silence.

“Let me wash your hair.” And with that, he began washing you, his hands gentle while soaping your hair and body. You smiled when he put too much shampoo on your hair and began playing with it. You shuddered when his hands grazed your sensitive areas, goosebumps followed his touch. He noticed this and softly smirked, a dimple showing. He got on his knees to wash your legs, a trail of wet kisses was placed on them making you giggle. Your hands found his hair while he made his way up to your stomach with his kisses. The last one was placed on one of your breasts while he got back up, his hands sliding along until they rested on your waist.

His eyes now found yours, your breath getting caught. The way he was looking at you made you blush slightly; he seemed to notice this and then his hand was on your cheek. His thumb massaged your face in small circles.

“You are so beautiful, I can’t get enough of it.” He whispered before leaning in and kissing you.

You smiled into the kiss, grateful he did that or else he would have seen you blush madly.

It was then your turn to wash him and you smiled resting your hands on his cheeks before taking them on his hair to shampoo his head. He returned the smile with a soft one, making your heart melt.

Soon you were both in your bed. He often slept over, his dad being too much for him to deal with sometimes.

You feel asleep in his arms with hope in your heart.

—————

The next morning, JJ wasn’t there.

You cried that morning, feeling stupid again. Feeling hopeless. You didn’t know why, but you almost expected him to be here. Usually he would stay.

It wasn’t a rare thing for you to cry over him after your nights, but the moments in the shower mentally destroyed you, so you decided to text your friends telling them you would be away doing something with your uncles for the whole day.

—————

The next day, you showed up at The Wreck, where everyone would be meeting to have dinner. Well, to steal food from Kie’s dad again.

You were nervous, you didn’t know why. You and JJ had slept together so many times it didn’t make sense. But the things he had said and the way he had acted had had this effect on you; he had acted differently.

You entered the restaurant, seeing everyone sitting at your usual table. Pope was the first to notice you, waving and calling you over.

Soon they all turned around, you avoiding the eyes of a certain blond boy.

“Hey guys.” You smiled nearing the table.

They all returned your greeting, filling you in on what they had been taking about, you immediately taking part of the conversation.

You felt a nudge on your knee. You knew it was JJ, but you decided to ignore him for now.

When you all ate you headed for the Twinkie, John B and Sarah in the front while the rest of you got in the back. You sat on the ground, bringing your knees up to your chest.

You felt someone sit down beside you.

His arm was around your back in a moment and you felt your heart pound wildly against your ribcage. You rested your head on his shoulder so that it wouldn’t seem like you were ignoring him.

The ride to the Chateau was short and filled with conversation and laughter, you arguing with Kie on which character was the best in a TV show you both loved.

While walking up the steps to the Chateau, JJ held you back.

You looked at him, waiting to listen to what he had to say.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed something isn’t right with you.” He whispered so the others wouldn’t hear.

He was right, and your heart swelled at the thought of him noticing. But then again, any best friend would.

“Just a little tired. Don’t worry J.” You smiled softly, taking him inside.

—————

Your heart shuttered again the next week, when another Kegger came around and you noticed JJ flirting with a touron was right before your eyes. You had been refilling your cup with more beer when you noticed them dancing together. You could feel yourself taking a step back, not being able to move for a minute or so, eyes fixated on them. Your heart was breaking more and more.

Kie came from behind you, her arm sneaking around you to bring you away from the scene in front of you. She knew for sure, you knew now. She just didn’t say anything.

“What do you say we go dancing?” She smiled at you, not addressing the situation which you were grateful for.

The rest of the night was spent with the others, you didn’t see JJ until the morning after when you arrived at the Chateau with Kie and Sarah. The boys had slept there and you brought them breakfast and painkillers for eventual hangovers.

You entered the house smiling and calling them to come out of the rooms. Only Pope was sleeping on the couch, John B in his room and JJ in “his” one, the guest one.

“Good morning, sunshine! Time to get up, lazy.”

Sarah was trying to wake Pope up when the door to the guest room opened, you immediately turned around to smile at JJ but your eyes didn’t meet his blue ones. These were hazel and a girl’s.

The girl from yesterday night.

You were used to this, of course, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt every time. You had do restrain yourself from crying this time. Why had the last night with him affected you so much? Did you actually believe he was softer than usual with you and that meant he would be with you? Idiot.

Sarah and Kie immediately looked at you, and you wished they wouldn’t had.

The girl was a little surprised and almost embarrassed, looking at the three of you with red cheeks.

“Hi.” Sarah broke the silence.

“I was just leaving.” She said, making a step to walk away.

“Wait, Emma. Slow down.” An arm stopped her from the room. “Stay for breakfast?” JJ submerged from the door, his hand still on her arm.

The girls looked shocked, you almost fearing everyone could hear your heart crack.

The girl seemed unsure, taking a look at them first, before smiling back at him and hesitantly nodding. He nodded back, guiding her to the kitchen. He didn’t even spare you a glance. He always did. He always looked at you before anyone else. Today he didn’t even acknowledge your presence.

You felt as if your knees would give in. Since when did he want them around? Sure you had encountered many of his one night stands before at the Chateau, but never had he asked them to stay. Usually he couldn’t care less.

“Y/N.” Sarah called softly, an almost pitiful tone in her voice.

You shook your head gently and remembered they were here too, faking a smile on your face to make it seem like this didn’t affect you at all. You knew it was useless at this point but you nonetheless did it.

“What?” You asked, acting clueless.

They had simpathetic looks on their faces. You just gave them a pleading look, silently asking them to just let it go — the indifferent expression painted on your face faltered when you did, making their eyes soften even more, an understanding glint in them.

“Go, I will wake these assholes up.” You giggled.

They sighed and walked off. How could you deal with this? You considered walking home without a word for a moment, but it would make things too obvious.

It took you some time to wake Pope and John B up, but you succeeded eventually, laughing at the state they were in while you walked with them inside of the kitchen. They looked confused at the new girl with JJ.

She was sitting beside him silently, watching him while he went off about two kooks fighting yesterday night and how that made his day. He was exaggerating things as usual, of course, but she seemed to be entranced by him.

“Really?” She asked him dreamily, just as you were sitting down beside Kiara, who discretely rolled her eyes at the flirty tone.

JJ noticed you then while nodding at her. “Hey, sunshine.” He gave you a smile.

You returned it with the best one you could master, scooping some food up to put it in your plate.

He seemed disappointed at the way you had greeted him back. Good. It was then that you noticed the gaze of the blonde girl was on you. She almost looked annoyed at the attention he had just given you.

“My name’s Emma, we haven’t met.” She smiled falsely.

“Y/N.” Again, you smiled back.

You then silently continued with your breakfast while the others conversed. You felt his eyes on you for a bit, then they were on her.

After breakfast, Emma went home. A few minutes later your aunt was outside waiting for you. You had sneakily called her to avoid questions from the girls, or from him for having ignored him. When you received her text, you put away the last plate you had been washing.

“Alright, I’m going. My aunt’s here, going shopping.” You sent them kisses over you shoulder as you were walking out, not glancing at your friends in fear someone would stop you.

“Wait, already?” Sarah whined from the couch.

“Sorry, babe.” You quickly responded before closing the door behind you, “See you later!”

Soon you heard it open again and a hand was tugging yours to stop you.

“Y/n/n.” Fuck.

“JJ.” You turned around, smiling as if nothing had happened.

He looked confused.

“Is something wrong?” He tilted his head, taking a step towards you.

“No. Why would you ask that?” You acted as though you didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Nothing, you just seemed… weird.” He explained poorly, reaching out to touch your face.

You dodged him before he could touch you, taking a step back, “Sorry, J. Really got to go. I promise you everything’s fine!” And with that, you ran to your aunt. You had seen the disappointment on his face.

During the day, while sulking in your bed, you convinced yourself it was a one time thing. Nothing scary. Of course it wouldn’t happen again. You would meet them tonight at the Chateau as if nothing was wrong and be careless.

You were just getting ready when Kie texted you.

- Emma’s here.

You felt you heart sink while reading the words. What?

You immediately texted the group chat, not feeling like going.

- Sorry, not feeling good. See you tomorrow

You sat back on your bed, feeling your breathing become difficult. Again, what?

You then quickly undressed, got in your pajamas and went to bed. You had a new message from JJ.

- everything ok, y/n/n? how are you feeling?

You ignored it.

—————

She was there for the next three days, and you continued your fake acting about not feeling well. You were taking this very badly, how could he? This was the first time he had done this, never having showed interest in one of his many flings to the point he stayed with them for more than the night. You couldn’t take this pain anymore. What had he seen in her? Sure she was beautiful, maybe even more than you, or at least that’s what you thought, but she couldn’t love him like you did. That was your only certainty.

They all had texted you, and you responded to all of them, not wanting to make them suspicious.

You knew you could no longer keep this act up, so on the fourth day, you showed up at the Chateau, lip between your teeth nervously. You almost drew blood.

When you arrived, everyone was outside just chilling. He was on the hammock and she was right there with him, her hand on his knee. She was the first to notice you, her expression turning into an annoyed one quickly, though she tried to mask it as soon as she saw you looking at her. You raised a brow, then turned to smile at Kie who had just called you.

You briefly saw the way his face lit up as soon as he heard your name. It made you stop breathing for a second before you remembered she was right there next to him.

“Y/n/n!” John B exclaimed, getting up to hug you excitedly.

You laughed while being squeezed, hugging him back.

“You’re alive!” Sarah joined, before pushing her boyfriend to the side to hug you as well.

She gave you a kiss on the cheek before giving you an understanding smile, you squeezed her hand reassuring her.

“Hey.” You greeted everyone.

Kie had seemed concerned, but when she met your eyes she smirked at you. “Fuck, I thought I finally got rid of you.”

“Did you now?” You smirked back.

While being distracted by her, you didn’t notice JJ getting up to hug you until his arms were around you and your feet were swept off the ground.

“I missed you, Y/n/n.” He whispered in your ear, exhaling while holding you tight.

He had knocked the breath right out of you, the familiar feeling of your heart almost exploding coming back.

“Hey there.” You giggled quietly, your arms finding their way around his neck.

He hugged you for several moment and then let you go, your feet touching the ground again.

“We have to talk later.” He said in a low voice, so the others wouldn’t hear.

You nodded, your stomach sinking. You told yourself to relax, he probably wanted to ask about how you were doing and why you had been kind of ignoring him, for which you could find a plausible excuse.

You turned away from him, joining the others by seating down next to Pope, him smiling at you when you kissed his cheek to greet him.

Sarah got back to talking about something her brother had done, and you zooned out almost immediately, your head focusing on him getting back on the hammock with her, her hands soon finding his shoulder. He looked at you, an unusual expression you couldn’t detect was on his face. You averted your gaze right away, not letting yourself look at him long enough to figure it out.

Later you all started to get ready for your boat trip, and you were immensely annoyed she had to come too. You had your bikini already on under your clothes, but Sarah asked you to drive her to her house so you could buy beer while she changed. Kie was in charge of snacks and you didn’t know this, but she noticed JJ following you around like a lost puppy, waiting for the occasion to be alone with you so you could talk. She sneakily asked Emma to help her with snacks so you could be alone and as she expected, JJ pulled your hand just as you approached the Twinkie.

“I’ll come with.” He just said, although it was implicit he wanted to talk.

You didn’t say anything, getting on the van John B had given you the keys to while he hopped in the passenger seat and Sarah in the back. The short trip was silent and a little awkward, so you turned on the radio and acted as if everything was normal.

When you dropped your blonde friend off, you could physically feel he wanted to say something. He had started shifting around in his seat, a sigh escaping his lips. He was fidgeting.

“Just talk, J.” You sighed, making a turn.

“Did I do something?” He sounded almost… sad.

This threw you off, but you kept your eyes on the road ahead of you.

“Of course not.” You told him, “Why?”

He seemed to think about it for some time.

“Just because… you’ve been distant to me. I miss you.” He sighed, his hand finding your thigh.

You stopped breathing.

“I haven’t. Just been sick, is all.” You replied, the shop was just a few minutes away.

“Are you sure?” He muttered, squeezing your thigh.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What was he doing?

“Don’t worry.” You smiled at him, turning to look at him for the first time.

Every time you looked at him he looked more beautiful than the time before. This annoyed you even more.

He stayed silent, drawing soft circles on your skin. His touch made you relax.

You soon arrived and you entered the shop followed by him. He went to look for soda while you picked the beers. You were too distracted to notice the boy looking at them too that you bumped into when you took a step back from the shelf.

“Sorry, sorry.” You immediately said, turning around to look at him and apologize.

You were met with a smiling boy who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than you.

“It’s no problem.” He grinned.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flickered down to your quite exposed chest. You were wearing a white crop top with a V line, your bikini visible beneath it.

“Uhm, right. Sorry again.” You awkwardly smiled before turning back around.

He cleared his throat from behind you, “What’s your name?”

You coughed, normally it wouldn’t be this awkward, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for a boy to approach you, but you hadn’t liked the way he had looked at you, he had made you uncomfortable.

“It’s Y/N.” You simply said, not giving him your attention; he was now standing beside you.

“Well Y/N, you’re too pretty not to be asked out. Do you think I can have your number?” He touched your arm.

Normally, you would just reject them with JJ on your mind and not make a deal out of it, but there was something vile about this boy. The way he was looking at you like you were meat disgusted you.

You picked up the beers, just as JJ came around the corner with a few bottles in his hands, “Hey, Y/n/n, I took a couple of-“ he stopped talking as soon as he noticed you were with a boy, and that he had his hands on you. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of the two you.

“Actually, I’m here with my boyfriend.” You gave him a noticeably fake smile, stepping away and towards JJ.

His arm was immediately around you, instantly understanding the situation. He seemed irritated to say the least.

The boy checked you out again, not so subtly. Gross.

“Well, if you change your mind-“

“I suggest you stop fucking talking and looking at my girl, man.” JJ took a step towards him.

The boy looked scared for a second before masking it with an eye roll.

“Sorry, bro. Just a misunderstanding.” He didn’t look at you again as he awkwardly turned around and walked away silently. You supposed he knew who JJ was. And if he knew that, he also knew how unpredictable the blond was. He didn’t want to risk being beaten up or having a gun pointed at him. He also seemed to be a kook, and being alone it wouldn’t be smart of him to provoke JJ as he probably expected there to be more of you just outside.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. You began walking towards the cash with a smile still on your face.

“What?” JJ smirked.

“Your girl?” You huffed, handing the cashier the beers.

JJ put the bottles on the counter, “No shit my girl.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, he had to stop fooling with you like this.

You didn’t say anything else while paying and getting out of the shop. The ride to Sarah’s was silent until JJ positioned his hand on your thigh again.

“Hey, stop there for a minute?” JJ pointed to a spot near a tree on the side of the road which was accessible to the van.

You sighed, what now? The vehicle was silent when you stopped it.

“Why did you make me stop?” You turned to look at him.

He was already looking at you. His hand found your cheek, you immediately blushing.

“What, JJ?“ you now timidly asked.

“I love how you still blush.” He whispered, his words vaguely reminding you of the last night you had been together. You shook the memory out of your head.

“Stop, JJ.” You knew he wanted something from you. You knew him better than everyone else ever could.

“Just a kiss.” He sighed, getting closer to your face.

You were begging to panic. What was he doing? Was he doing this just because he got jealous over that stranger? You knew he was possessive over you, this was not him just wanting to innocently kiss you. But with a girl back home?

On the other hand your mind was already being intoxicated by his touch, his scent, his eyes, his words. It would be difficult for you to stop him. This was the first time after all. But you bravely pushed the desires of your heart away and for once listened to your head.

“J, stop. What are you doing?” You moved away, this clearly catching him by surprise.

He blinked, not understanding at first.

“What do you mean?” His tone made you want to let him fuck you right that moment and there.

You inhaled, passing a hand through your long hair.

“You have a girl back at the Chateau, what are you doing here with me?” You asked quietly.

He looked at loss for words. JJ Maybank was never at a loss for words. But then what did you expect?

“Just as I thought.” You thought he detected the disappointment in your tone, because his hands stopped yours from gripping the wheel and starting the car.

“I didn’t know you cared about that.” He admitted, something that sounded like regret in his voice.

You gave him a bitter smile, not processing the words that were leaving your mouth.

“You must be an idiot, then.” You turned back to the road, right hand starting the engine.

You had left him speechless, you could sense that. He was rarely silent.

You reversed and drove off, the silence filling the vehicle killing you. It was unbearable.

What had you done?

But it was for the better, you couldn’t keep going on like this. It hurt too much. So, in a panicked state, you decided to clear things up once and for all.

“I need us to stop fucking around.” Your eyes were on the road, not daring to look at him. You knew you would lose your courage then.

“What?” You heard him say.

Keep your eyes ahead.

“I can’t take anymore of you fucking me and then sleeping around with all those girls. Let’s put a stop to this, J.” Your voice was strained, but you were proud of yourself.

You heard him shuffle, a stuttered breath coming out of him.

“Y/N, I swear I didn’t know it bothered you, I actually thought-“

You stopped him before he could finish the sentence, too afraid he would break your heart more than it already was broken.

“That’s okay. Just stop please.” You cringed, you were trying not to cry. But you had become incredibly good at that.

He was silent for the rest of the drive. You picked up Sarah and drove off to the Chateau. Sarah must have sensed something was wrong by the look on your faces, because she too stayed silent and didn’t dare ask questions.

You could only think about how much relief and regret you were simultaneously feeling. You were so proud of yourself for finally mastering up the courage to speak up, but your heart was hurting from knowing the closest thing you could’ve ever had with JJ came to an end.

When you got back, Emma was awkwardly waiting for JJ; Sarah offered to take the beers, so you went straight to the boat, but not fast enough to avoid hearing her speak.

“JJ, if you had told me you were going I could have come too.” God, was she annoying.

You sighed, getting on the boat helped by Pope. The rest of the day was excruciating, you had to watch Emma follow JJ around all the time, her hands always on him. You had to grit your teeth and turn around multiple times, everything becoming too much. The others noticed you and JJ were both equally quiet, but didn’t say anything and instead everyone tried to cheer you up. It was especially unusual for JJ to be this quiet, everyone could see something was wrong. You noticed the way he wasn’t touching her, the way he tried keeping his distance from her, but you just figured he was afraid of bothering you more.

You could feel his eyes on you while taking of your clothes, while diving in, while dancing with Pope, while drinking and talking to the girls. You just wanted the day to be over and be in your bed away from everyone.

When the sun began to set you began nearing home, the plan being lighting up a fire and eating together. As soon as you reached the dock, you announced you would be heading home.

“What, why?” John B asked, disappointed while helping Sarah off the boat.

“Gotta eat with my uncles.” You simply said, taking his hand and getting off too. Kie was right behind you, followed by Emma and the boys.

“At least eat something?” She proposed, passing you the freezer.

“Sorry.” You smiled apologetically.

While helping cleaning up and bringing things inside, you noticed JJ and Emma walking away from the group. You diverted your gaze, feeling a knot in your stomach.

“They could have at least helped.” Kie scoffed, taking the last items from Pope and heading inside to put away.

John B and Pope laughed, you contained a smile. Sarah hugged you from behind leaving a kiss on your cheek. You squeezed her hand, not saying anything as always.

Ten minutes later, everything was taken care of and you walked out with them to take off, “John B, think you could give me a ride?”

“Of course, Y/n/n.” He smiled tiredly, “Just let me get the keys.”

You said your goodbyes for the night while John B retrieved the keys from his home and then walked with your friend to the van once he was out; your heart was heavy.

“Where are you going?” You heard JJ’s voice.

JJ emerged from the side of the house, only he was alone now. Just as John B began to reply, you heard a car starting up and then driving away. Emma’s. You looked at JJ, simply assuming she could have not stayed for dinner as well.

“Giving her a ride.”

He furrowed his eyebrows when John B finished his sentence, “I’ll take her home.” He said.

Your heart skipped a beat, you almost hoping John B would want, for whatever reason, to drive you home at all costs. Instead, tired as he was, he just tossed the keys to his best friend taking the opportunity, then he ruffled your hair and told you, “See you tomorrow, Y/n/n.”

You sighed, not saying anything and just getting on the van. JJ began silently driving, you just looking out of the window hoping he wouldn’t start a conversation.

Almost halfway through the ride to your house, however, he did start speaking.

“I am stil your best friend, right?” He timidly asked.

You were in disbelief. You almost wanted to laugh at how cute he sounded. This was JJ Maybank.

“Of course you are.” You replied quietly, still not looking at him. You would give in, you were sure. You couldn’t afford that now, not after having come this far.

When he stopped in front of your house, was when he shocked you.

“Can I come in?” He asked when you went to open the car door.

It took you a moment to elaborate the question. Now he wanted to come in? Did even listen to you?

“JJ, I don’t think you should.” You pinched your nose.

You just wanted to be away from him.

“I need to talk to you.” His hand was on yours now, almost making you shiver.

You considered this. Although you already knew you would let him in. You wanted to hear what he had to say.

You just nodded, shaking his hand off and getting off the van. You stil hadn’t looked at him. He silently followed you to the door.

You then noticed your uncles weren’t home, so it was a good thing John B hadn’t driven you home after all, or else he would’ve found out you were lying about dinner with them.

You unlocked the door and closed it behind him, then proceeded to go to your room. The silence was too heavy. You sat down on the bed, with JJ immediately copying your actions.

Moments of silence and tension passed before he spoke up, “I told her I didn’t wanna see her anymore.”

You stopped breathing — a reaction he often got out of you —, this was not what you were expecting.

You turned to look at him this time, and as always, he was already looking at you.

“What?” You whispered softly. Your eyes searched for his.

He visibly relaxed when he noticed the change in what had been your tense behavior. His gaze softened under yours.

“Y/N.” The way he was looking at you made you feel almost hopeful, “How do I say this— fuck. Shit.”

His hands went to his hair as he took a deep breath and recomposed himself. If this was any other situation you would have laughed at how cute he was acting. His fingers tangled in his sand locks, frustratedly. He then exhaled, placing them on his legs again and straightening up.

“For the longest time I genuinely thought— I thought you didn’t care about me being with other girls.” He breathed out.

You cringed at the last part, regretting it when you realized you were starting to let too much of your feelings show today. He quickly continued at your reaction.

“You truly caught me off guard today. I— I swear I didn’t know.”

“Then why do you think you’re the only one who I have ever let touch me?” Your voice was low as you asked this.

You watched him slowly come to a realization, “I just thought you liked the way I fucked you.” He admitted letting out a small laugh.

You tried not to smile. This boy was something else.

“Well, you thought wrong.” You sighed.

“So it’s true…” he whispered, “You have feelings for me?”

Almost all of your life had lead right to this moment, you had dreamed of this very moment with your boy every day since you had realized you had a crush on him at twelve. You didn’t know what to say. What if he rejected you?

This could go in so many different ways that you were afraid to finally voice your feelings.

“Please, Y/N, I need to hear you saying it if that’s the truth.” His voice sounded strained, his eyes had a pleading look to them.

“I have feelings for you, JJ.” You blurted out softly before you could think about it and back away.

You inhaled, closing your eyes not to look at him. At his reaction.

It was done. He knew. There was no turning back now.

“Don’t fucking mess with me.” He said almost angrily, in disbelief. His hand was on your cheek in mere moments, forcing you to look at him, “Y/N, did you understand what I said? Do not mess with me. Not about this.” He was now completely and utterly serious.

You couldn’t stand looking into his demanding eyes, so you averted your gaze to your hands. This caused him to turn your head to face his again, he wanted eye contact.

“Talk to me, baby.” Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, or maybe two. His voice was both demanding and soft, serious and pleading.

You looked at him for a few seconds, relishing in this moment knowing it could be one of the last ones you two would share in case things didn’t go well for you. His hand on your face, his eyes on you, his undivided attention was on you.

“I have been in love with you for a long time. You’re the only one who I ever let touch me, not because you ‘fucked me good’, but because of that. And yes, I have been jealous of every one of those girl you brought back to the Chateau, but I put up with it just to keep you close. And yes, my heart has broken every single time you were with one. This time however I couldn’t bear you having her around all the time, it was different, you never do that. I felt like a fucking idiot for having believed those moments in the shower meant something and I felt my heart breaking even more and just couldn’t be around you anymore because I was afraid-“

“They did.” He stopped your rambling gently. His thumb softly swept away your tears, and you wondered when the hell you had began crying during your explosive rush of words.

You stopped talking, confused by his answer.

“What?” You sniffled, swiping away a few tears on your other cheek.

His ocean orbs danced around on your face for a moment, taking you in before he spoke up.

“They meant something. I have been restraining myself for so fucking long, that night I just couldn’t. Then the next day I had to take my mind off of you, you were all I thought about, all I think about. She was a distraction, Y/N. I needed someone to distract me from you. That didn’t work at all, fuck, not even closely. I fucking think about you every minute of every hour and I didn’t know what the hell to do about it because I have never been with anyone besides fucking. Nobody has ever just had that effect for me. Except for you.”

JJ had left you speechless. You didn’t know what to do or to say. Before you could master up an answer he continued stuttering out words.

“And then I- I started to ask myself why the fuck was it that you were the only one I could ever stand to be with for more than a few nights. And every day I fucking want to fuck you, I- But you have always been my best friend I couldn’t fucking ruin that, but then you didn’t care — wait, I thought you didn’t care, but now I know you do care. Fuck, Y/N, you don’t know how fucking relieved I am to hear you say that.” He finished his own rambling exhaling, his hand leaving your face to run through his hair.

You knew his speech wasn’t perfect — it was, in fact, a fucking mess. But you didn’t care at all, you didn’t even care about the fact that he didn’t say I love you back, you knew it would take him a long fucking time to do that. You didn’t care because he wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, yet here he was sputtering out messy and honest words that were the most him they could be.

Forget everything, they were so perfectly JJ Maybank that you grabbed his face and collided your lips passionately.

Your actions surprised him, but as soon as he realized you were kissing him he was returning the kiss needily.

You felt as if your heart could explode any second now, beating frantically against your ribcage in an attempt to break free from its cage.

This was everything you had ever wanted, the only boy you had ever loved was right in front of you spitting out frenetical words in a messy attempt of confessing his feelings for you. You. You had never, never in all your years of loving him, suspected he could ever actually reciprocate them.

In the ecstasy-intoxicated state you found yourself into, you couldn’t think about anything else beside the uncontrollable need you had for him. You needed him now.

Your hands found his belt before you could think about it, undoing it and then tugging at his swimming shorts. You felt a smile paint itself into his lips against yours before his lower half raised just a little bit from the bed to facilitate your actions. His shorts were gone and next thing you knew, his hands were all over you and undressing you of your own bikini and jeans shorts.

“Come here.” He tugged at your waist to pull you on his lap so you were on top of him.

Your hands found their way around his neck in a tight embrace, while his were around your waist. A moment of just looking at each other dreamily lingered in the atmosphere before a rather irritant thought occurred to you and the expression on your face was a pissed off one in less than a second. His eyes showed concern at your change in emotions and he rested his left hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your soft skin lightly.

“What?” He asked, almost fearfully.

You sighed, looking the other way while answering his question, “It’s just… Emma.”

You turned back to look at him and his eyes had now a more understanding look to them.

“What about her?” He quietly asked before putting a loose strand of your long locks behind your ear.

“I know you said she was a distraction, but still… It bothers me to think about the fact that you took so much interest in her to let her stay. You have to like her a little bit, and I can’t do it.” You placed your hands on his chest, pushing gently to put some distance between the two of you.

He didn’t let you, the soft chuckle leaving his mouth surprising you.

“Are you that stupid? I was just using her to make you jealous. Can’t say it didn’t work tho.” He winked at you, the smirk now adorning his lips making you weak.

You blushed a little, averting your gaze, “that still doesn’t change the fact you slept with her several times, including last night, JJ.”

His expression didn’t falter.

“Funny, I remember only being with her the night of the bonfire.” This caught your full attention.

“What?” You perked up again, now expectantly looking into his eyes.

“Yeah.” His smirk increased, “It’s a miracle I even got my dick hard the first time considering she was so loud I struggled to imagine it was you I was fucking.”

“JJ!” You grimaced, although your mind flew past the infuriating imagine of him being with someone else and to the part he could only ever fuck them if it was you he was with in his head.

“Also, like I said, you never mentioned wanting me.” He concluded, his hands pulling you into his chest even more.

You scoffed at him, “It was rather obvious for everyone, except for you.”

A smirk returned on his face, “So everyone knew you were always mine, huh?”

—————

i live for gravity!h

he’s so cute and hot at the same time we love a versatile king ❤️‍🔥🙄

gravity

(y/n) hated physics while harry loved it, but both of them have a couple of secrets.

—————

College sucks.

(Y/N) knew that from the second she had to pay for books that should have been provided given the extravagant amount she paid in tuition. Her viewpoint was only reaffirmed when she attended lectures for mandatory courses that had nothing to do with her major, with professors who didn't care whether or not she was comprehending the material. All she was really doing here was getting a fancy piece of paper with a seal on it in hopes of being taken seriously when looking for a job.

It only sucked worse when she felt like she was failing, and barely saw the roommate that had promised to keep her sane through the entire experience.

That was how (Y/N) found herself drunk and alone on a Friday night.

To be fair, she was having a lot more fun than she would have thought considering she was not a talented bartender and the vodka cranberry she messily mixed in her kitchen tasted of sweetened rubbing alcohol at first sip.

Loud music was blaring through the apartment (or at least as loud as she knew she could get away with, considering her neighbors weren't too keen on the college experience), with every door left wide open throughout the space. The apartment felt bigger through her hooded vision, her clumsy choreography feeling like a grandiose production with the make-believe partner she conjured out of the Kacey Musgraves lyrics that floated throughout every room.

It was only when she remembered she was alone that she wished so badly there was someone with her. Someone to hold her like Kacey described, to kiss and touch over her body in loving runs. That was when the fog in her mind took on a rosied tint, a yearning feeling aching to trace out the form of another.

She blamed it on the alcohol, and the fact she had been single for far too long. Since she was alone—something she had started the night grateful for—she became a little too aware of the lusted shift her thoughts were taking and how much she wished she had someone else there to relieve the ache that was sparking between her thighs. (This happened often when she drank. She was a loving and affectionate drunk, making the absence of another glaringly obvious to her).

(Y/N) didn't have even half the mind to be embarrassed as she dug around for her laptop in her room, too preoccupied by the tipsy lens she was seeing the world through, and the longing that had settled in her stomach. After finding her treasure, she settled herself on the wrinkled mess that was her bedding, and opened a familiar browser. It was a little too instinctive as she typed in the familiar website, but she couldn't find it in her to care when the lazy thoughts floating through her mind were urging her to find any kind of release.

That was how she found herself on a cam-site.

Truly, it had been a slip of the finger. All she had tried to do was click on the minuscule 'x' tacked in the corner of a shady pop-up ad on a much more legit site, but her lagging response time made it that much harder to react before she was being directed to a completely different site.

This one lacked the typically dark grey and black shading that other explicit sites utilized. This one used a green based layout, leaving the attention to be placed on the rows and rows of thumbnails dotting her screen. Across the main page, the site boasted a channel of over fifty-thousand different performers, making it easy to find something 'to your liking'. The small boxes that filled out the screen displayed different people in various states of undress (or in outfits (Y/N) wasn't aware were made in real life), some with their faces cut out of frame and others feeling no need to hide their identity. They were all stilled into a single scene from their 'stream', as it was labeled under the tile, some performing acts that she hadn't known were physically possible. Once she realized what it was that she had been loaded onto, she pulled back with a gasp.

She had never been on a cam-site before; the idea of paying a stranger to get off on camera while she lurked on the other side with complete anonymity felt a bit too sleazy to make her comfortable or turned on. Fully intending to backpedal onto the familiar site she had accidentally left, (Y/N) barely swept her lagging eyes over the expanse of the site, her fingertips lazily tracing over the touchpad to take her back.

Until she saw one tile of a person just sitting there.

It was a short view of a man's chest, the frame cutting off at his neck to give the full of the attention to his seated body with his torso the main focus. He was sat in something that emulated the office chair that she had pushed into her desk in her room, nothing especially pornographic about the set up; even the dimmed lights in the background denoted nothing other than a quiet night in. He wasn't undressed as far as she could tell from the pixelated view she was given into his video. A gauzy button-up was stretched across the broad of his shoulders, the fabric thin and left unbuttoned enough to show a pair of birds tattooed below his collarbones and something that could either be a butterfly or an octopus on his tummy given the quality of the thumbnail. He even had his pants on.

More than anything, the lack of lewd acts and scandalous dressing made her curious. Maybe it wasn't required that you do anything explicitly sexual during your stream.

Her decision tasted like cranberries saturated in vodka as she rerouted her finger on the touchpad and instead tapped on the username that was spelled out under the tile. It only took a second before his profile popped up. The page shared the same layout as the main site; a plain sage green base backing the much more customized personal page that displayed his information.

His screen name—treatpeoplewkisses—was highlighted in a golden yellow across the top. The details of his profile generated underneath. Most of the categories were left vague; only a country filling in his location, and a single letter (H) giving him a name. What looked to be a screenshot or a still from one of his videos acted as his profile picture, the setting similar to what she saw as he was sat in his dimly lit base with a barely buttoned top on with the black of his tattoos shining through the fabric. A green dot beside his user confirmed that he was online. A stream of posts made up the rest of his page, the most recent status making a claim that he was LIVE NOW! with a bright pink link that had been shared a little over ten minutes ago.

(Y/N) felt a pit in her tummy as she pressed the link. Something like guilt blinked through the vodka-induced haze, feeling odd to be viewing someone so intimately while she didn't have to share a thing. But, she reasoned with herself, if that wasn't something he was comfortable with, he wouldn't be on this site. Besides, as far as she could tell, he wasn't doing anything like his counterparts on the site, so she might not be seeing anything explicit anyway.

Nevertheless, she didn't stop as the screen loaded, directing her to the stream she had only gotten a glimpse of on the start page. Her laptop filled out to a new setup with the main video displayed in the center with the boy she had seen still sitting in his comfortably lit room and his ethereally thin top. Beside the video was a chat stream, where all comments were shown in response to anything he said or did. A thermometer-like bar was plastered on the other side, displaying how much money he had already made that night with a goal tacked to the top of the bar. In the ten minutes since he had gone live, he had already made a hundred dollars with the promise of more coming in if the range of comments had anything to do with it.

His—H's—throat bobbed around words she couldn't hear with gentle expansions of his chest under his shirt as he breathed, nothing at all like the wild extremes that had been sandwiched around him on the main page. She worked on something like autopilot as she turned up the volume on her laptop, wanting to know what was getting the comments flooding in faster than she could catch.

Maybe it was the alcohol-induced lag going on in her head, but all (Y/N) could register for a moment was how deep and inviting his tone was as it washed over her. He had drawn her in in a matter of seconds.

He seemed to be responding to comments, though the tone he used made it feel like he was talking to only her; answering questions she had forgotten she asked and responding to compliments she wordlessly gave. He was good at what he was doing. Even without his face in the shot, it felt like he was speaking only to her, as if there wasn't a hoard of comments streaming through at every pause

"'M happy you're having a good night, darling. Thank you for letting me be a part of it."

He spoke low and slow enough for her to register through the haze in her mind, the words dripping over her like honey. What kind of dreamboat was this? And how did he exist on a site like this?

No matter whatever direction this stream took, she was sure actors of any kind wished they could procure a relationship like this with viewers; something personal enough to keep them coming back for more no matter the content.

(Y/N) leaned in, listening intently as H let out a breathy laugh that filtered through her speakers, the sound deep and rich like the rest of him. She could only imagine the kind of smile that stretched across his lips in conjunction with the sound. She wished she knew what the color of his lips were.

"Is that what the mood for tonight is? Well, I won't keep y'waiting, I know it's been a long week, love."

Her eyes only widened as he joined in on the tradition of the site he was registered on, making a slow show of unbuttoning the remaining bindings on his top and revealing the full of his chest to the camera. All the while, he entertained comments and kept her listening while her eyes were fixed to the fluid and comfortable motions he made over his body.

It was that easy to get her hooked.

She couldn't—and didn't want to—find any will to exit from the stream, even when he progressed to taking the stripping up another level by taking off his pants. She was transfixed on him and his ability to make the entire experience much too personal considering the nature of the transaction. It was effortless how he drew her in, doing nothing other than using the body of his voice and indulging in his own pleasure.

And, god, he was just hot.

His voice was entirely too warm to be that of a stranger she had never met and she'd never have the opportunity to hear in person. He touched over his body with the assurance that no matter what he did, it wasn't only for him, that he knew exactly how much his viewer liked it and he would make sure he wasn't the only one feeling good in the experience. The cherry on top was the fact that in that first stream, as if she wasn't already a sucker for him, he called himself daddy. He moaned around the honorific, teasing and beckoning her in to join him in his scene and to help him work his cock and take all he had to give her.

She knew she would be coming back when he ended the stream, chest a flushed red and his hand wrapped in a towel as he cleaned himself up, with a declaration of affection: "I adore you." He didn't log off until he requested for his viewers to wait for him, as if she had any plans otherwise at that point.

He was intoxicating in every sense of the word. More even than the vodka cranberry she had drank through that first night she found him.

That had been only the first time she had indulged in his stream.

(Y/N) only relented to making an account on the site when she had visited his page for the third time (second time sober). She felt a bit guilty to be viewing his content for free when it was clear this was an opportunity for him to make money through the tips that poured through and filled the meter to the side of the video. But, she found her own way to support him once she was comfortable: she commented in the chat stream. She was much more tame than others, but she did enough to let him know that he was appreciated by her. That she liked him.

It was lame to say, especially out loud, but H had become the consistent man in her life and she liked that she was granted with the privilege of being a part of the fantasy of his stream. He made it that much easier, even in the short amount of time since she had stumbled onto his page, to get through classes with something to look forward to when she was burnt out. He made getting off a lot more fun, if she was being honest, even if he was nothing more than a fantasy that played out on her laptop screen.

She was never going to meet him anyway, so she was free to pine over him, she decided. No harm done.

—————

(Y/N) loved her roommate with her whole heart.

Naomi had been her best friend since their freshmen year and was the one person she knew she could live with without jeopardizing their friendship in the process. She had even enrolled in a physics course—something outside of her required credits—just because Ny needed to take it and was scared of going alone. (Y/N) loved her like a sister.

But, god, she fucking hated her sometimes.

After (Y/N) had gone through all the trouble to get signed up for the physics course she didn't need, and even gone through syllabus week and prepared herself to work with something that was entirely out of her wheelhouse, Ny dropped the class. The worst part was that she hadn't even bothered to let (Y/N) in on the secret until the deadline had passed. Her apology was given in the form of a pair of guilty puppy dog eyes staring at her as Ny pleaded with her to not be angry and that she would do all their laundry for a month to make it up to her. ((Y/N) managed to up the deal to two months before she accepted).

That was how (Y/N) found herself walking alone to the science building, trekking the dreaded route to Prof. Stanfill's room. It wouldn't have been so bad if she felt any semblance of comfort in the course and the material, but (Y/N) hated her physics class almost as much as she hated Ny the day she confessed she dropped the class.

She had always known the sciences weren't her strongest suit, but this was on another level. No matter how many times she tried to understand the direction the lesson was taking, notes dutifully pulled up on her laptop, nothing seemed to help the confusion that settled over her as soon as Stanfill started his lecture.

Not only did the material go entirely over her head, but she was almost halfway sure her professor was actually just a walking robot. From the moment she sat down—attendance was a huge part of her grade unfortunately, otherwise she would have skipped almost every session—, she was assaulted with his monotone voice and the too-small projector he had displaying dated notes she was sure he hadn't updated since the nineties. The worst part was that she didn't even need to be there; this wasn't advancing her any closer to her degree, but it was too late.

Now, she was stuck with Professor Stanfill and a file on her laptop full of useless notes.

(Y/N) did her best to make the most of it, finding anything to comfort her through the class and make it somewhat easier to process. Whenever she could, she made the trip to get some sweetened coffee to bring with her. She never made a huge effort to look put together for the class either, opting for sweaters that accommodated the weather outside and she could get away with napping in when she made it home. She had also claimed an aisle seat in one of the further rows in the back, closest to the door. As soon as class was dismissed, she took full advantage of the prime spot to bolt out of there as quickly as possible.

That's how her Monday had started as she walked into the lecture hall, a comfy sweater wrapped around her form and a too-hot coffee warming her palm. She dropped her bag beside her preferred chair, pulling her laptop out onto the bench style table top that lined the amphitheater of seats. The space beside her was occupied by the boy with the kind smile that had taken the chair after Ny dropped the course.

He was another of the small things that made getting through the session just a bit easier, despite the way (Y/N) hadn't ever had a real conversation with him in the last month they'd been seatmates. Even with the lack of conversation, he had been nice enough to offer her a pen the first day (Y/N) had walked in alone as a flustered mess after Ny had confessed her secret. He regularly gave her soft smiles and whispered short thank you's whenever she passed down worksheets or let him scoot behind her when he was on his way out. He was a good seatmate to have; kind, quiet, and consistent.

He—Harry? Or his name could be Edward, she's honestly not sure and she feels too bad to ask considering she felt like she should know by now—was the coziest person she'd seen around campus, too. Every session he showed up in some variation of a chunky cardigan or sweater (today's knit was a large orange mess of thick yarn, the color deep enough to resemble a pumpkin's rind), wide-legged pants, and a pair of scuffed Vans that looked well loved. Varnish was always painted over his nails, the polish sticking around for two weeks before he had something new glimmering at his fingertips (this week's was a warm brown color with glittery gold accents). Before every lecture, he pulled his glasses from his bag to perch the wide frames on the bridge of his nose.

What (Y/N) had noticed first about him was just how smart Harry was. It was clear in the way he took his dutiful, color-coordinated notes, and the way he breezed through exams with the near perfect scores on lab write-ups. His notes were handwritten in a pristine notebook that, if (Y/N) hadn't known better, she would have assumed it had never been used. Compared to (Y/N)'s typed version, his were levels above even with the somewhat messy nature of his writing. She wouldn't be surprised if he was on the dean's list every semester with the university throwing money at him in hopes of keeping his attendance lest he choose somewhere more Ivy League. She looked forward to the speech he would give at graduation as top of their class.

If she couldn't have Ny with her, she was happy to have someone like Harry seated with her.

(Y/N)'s attention shifted when Professor Stanfill dimmed the lights and projected his notes across the canvas hung at the front of the room. No introduction was offered as he dove into this lecture's subject. She was always left a bit scrambled to catch up with him, though she knew beside her Harry had his hands busy already finding value in whatever Stanfill was saying.

—————

"Bye Ny! Text me if you need anything!"

Naomi tossed her promises and goodbyes over her shoulder before leaving in a flash of shaggy blonde hair to meet with a couple of friends for a study group. (Y/N) basked in the silence that settled over the apartment for a moment, her muscles decompressing.

After her physics class, she had immediately gone home and tried her best to get through some homework and even attempted to sort through her physics notes in hopes of rearranging them to make any sense. With all the added work, she felt like she hadn't left campus in over ten hours despite the comfort of her own apartment around her. The only thing that had drawn her from the struggle that was her school bag, was Ny dragging her out to say goodbye before she left. Now, with the clarity of mind she found away from her work, she was able to finally deflate.

She didn't want to go back to her work, not having the strength to reanalyze a concept she had little to no grasp on anyway. So, she stuffed all of her things back into her bag and tucked it away underneath her desk with no intention of looking at it again until Monday morning. (Y/N) snuggled herself in her bed, laptop warming her thighs as she closed out of the research tabs she had pulled up in an effort to better understand her physics material. All that was left open was a couple different tabs of Etsy shops and this pair of shoes she had been yearning over for months.

Now, (Y/N) hadn't even intended to key in the too familiar URL—she wasn't even in that kind of mood if she was being honest. She had planned on napping, but if H just so happened to be streaming, she could fit that in before tucking under the covers she decided. Still, she found herself loaded onto the green webpage with no hesitation. She was quick to get signed in, cringing at the fact her details auto-filled as she tapped the blue button to be directed onto the start page littered with the rows of other users she had no interest in. She breezed past the tiles, feeling uncomfortable to be viewing them although she was obviously on this site for a reason. Clicking the search function in the top corner, (Y/N) typed in the familiar username that came up as a suggestion after the first few keystrokes.

His page filled her screen, the usual vague details listed under his username greeting her. She trailed her eyes over the screen, finding that he'd made a new status only minutes ago detailing that he would be going live five minutes from when the post was made. Flicking her eyes to the top of her screen, finding it had been almost four minutes since, (Y/N) didn't hesitate before clicking on the link.

The usual page loaded, his standby screen filling the space where his stream would pop up. The screen showed off his username and all the links to his various premium accounts before he turned his camera on. (Y/N) always felt a tiny bit guilty when she saw the encouragements to tip during his show or otherwise check out one of his paid services. She wasn't able to do either—she was in college, what can she say?—but she tried her best to make up for it by interacting as much as she was comfortable with in the chat, even when the thread was being flooded far too quickly.

She barely had a second to marinate in the self-appointed guilt before the screen flickered and blinked his standby screen away. The familiar view of H with his head cut from frame and the solid build of his body being the main focus took her attention. She felt like Pavlov's dog, at this point, just the first sight of him eliciting a conditioned reaction that let her know the pleasurable direction her night was taking.

"Hello," he quipped, throat bobbing around the word with a smile in his tone, "How are you tonight?"

He always started the show the same, asking about his viewers' days while knowing good and well what people were there to see. She thought it was sweet, whether it was a calculated move to make the stream feel more personal or an instinctual choice. Nonetheless, this was one of her favorite parts of his streams, she decided. She thought it was nice of him to ask something like that when he could just jump into the things that actually make him money.

(Y/N)'s eyes struggled to follow the amount of comments that came pouring in, many giving bland answers before urging him to pull his clothes off and calling him his preferred title of daddy. His hands on his thighs flexed, the veins and tendons in the appendages making themselves known as he assumedly read through some of the more intense comments that breezed over his pleasantries all together. She hesitated before typing out her own response, knowing it was rather dull in comparison to what was being shot at him.

sunflowerssweetheart: my day was good, but im even better now!! hbu??

She cringed as she pressed send. If anything, he wouldn't respond if it didn't catch his eye or it could get swept away if he replied to anyone else's comment first. But, (Y/N) hoped it might stand out that she was repeating his question to him, something she hadn't seen in the chat beforehand.

A breathy laugh sounded through the speakers, his chest expanding underneath the sheer, black fabric of his top that did nothing to conceal the tanned skin underneath. "M'day was good, too, sweetheart, thank you for asking. 'M happy you're here, too."

He went on to reply to a few other comments, the depth of his voice turning into a warm current that washed over her with every syllable, but (Y/N) felt a little too happy with herself that her comment had been the one he responded to first. She melted into her bedding the more he talked, hoping one of the daddy comments would catch his eye and set the tone for the rest of the stream.

There was a moment's pause as he lent back into his chair, leaving the full of his chest unobstructed. The leafy tattoos that adorned his hips were just barely peeking under his shirt, but (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off them.

"I wanted to take it slow tonight, is that alright? Been a long day, and daddy's stressed out. Can I take m'time with you, baby?"

(Y/N) could have sworn she felt her pupils dilate at his words, the honorific stuttering her heart before fluttering through her system to settle between her legs. He was a dream—a dirty dream, sure, but still one she didn't want to wake from.

"That's alright? Want to see daddy take his time? Make a mess just for you?"

She watched on as his hands reached for the buttons on his shirt, a glimmering gold flicking off of his nails as he worked through the buttons. Before she could get a better view of whatever it was he had painted over his nails this stream, his shirt was buttoned wide open with his hands dragging over the expanse of his chest. A hummed moan vibrated from his throat, the sound wrapping around (Y/N) with a clench to her thighs.

God, she was happy Ny was out.

—————

"I still can't believe you dropped the class without telling me, as if I wasn't going to figure it out considering we live together and I was going to notice when you didn't come to class with me."

(Y/N)'s tone held amusement as she checked her student portal, double checking that she hadn't missed an assignment from Stanfill—her weekend was unusually empty of physics stress aside from the self-assigned read-through of her notes.

"I felt bad!" Ny whined, dropping her attention from the crew of housewives they were watching on T.V., "I had begged you for weeks to pick up physics then realized I didn't even need it because I read the requirements wrong, and I was embarrassed! You already know I'm sorry!"

"I know you are," (Y/N) smiled at her from a slumped position on their couch, "I already forgave you weeks ago, but now I'm doing this alone."

"You're not completely alone," Ny argued, dropping her small bagel pizza onto her paper plate, "I know you've made friends."

"Barely," she countered, disregarding her phone in favor of reaching for the throw blanket at her side, "It's hard making friends while trying to keep the entire subject straight in my head."

"What about that guy you said moved next to you after I dropped?"

"He never talks to me, you know that. It's like he's scared of me. I've probably heard him talk a handful of times, including when I had to ask him for a pen so it wasn't even voluntary."

Ny rolled her lips between her teeth, flicking her eyes across the room in thought. "You said he's really smart right?" she perked up further at (Y/N)'s affirming nod, "Just ask him about that stuff then and see if he'll help you. It'll get him to talk more, if anything."

(Y/N) heaved a sigh, her shoulders rising only to fall back into the downy blanket around her, "Ny, this would have been so much easier if you had just stuck with me. We'd be falling together at least."

"You're not going to fail, (Y/N)," she argued, a softened undercurrent to her words.

"Have you seen my grade?"

"We're not even two months in; there hasn't been any exams for you to bomb yet, how bad could it be?"

(Y/N) knew Naomi was trying to be encouraging in her own way, combating (Y/N)'s self-deprecating remarks but it wasn't super helpful to hear about a test she'd hadn't bombed yet. She looked to her friend with a raised brow, waiting for her to realize what exactly it was that she said.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out, shoulders deflating, "Is there anything I can do to help? I can read over your notes and help you reformat them, if that helps?" She let out a small sigh, traces of her earlier amusement draining from her blue eyes, "I really am sorry, (Y/N), I was too embarrassed to tell you but I should have before you got stuck with this."

"I know," (Y/N) smiled, "And it's really okay, you know I'm just being dramatic. But I think I'm all caught up in my notes and everything—I still don't understand it, but there's no more work to be done anyway. Stanfill didn't even assign any reading for this weekend, so I think I'm finally not going to be behind on Monday."

"You're lucky," Ny mumbled around her pizza bagel, "My profs only do that when they have something worse planned for the weekend."

"I know, I was surprised. But, I mean, I'll take it." (Y/N) shifted her attention to the television in front of her, dropping back into the 'reality' of the show.

The more she thought about it, maybe Ny was right. It might not be a bad idea to ask Harry for help, especially if it would mean she had someone to talk to in that class.

—————

(Y/N)'s weekend of grace came to an abrupt end as she walked into Prof. Stanfill's lecture hall. Despite the fact she'd already had a pair of classes earlier in the day, nothing made her feel quite like it was Monday until she was forced to wrap her mind around concepts she couldn't even spell. She was running a few minutes late as she trudged to her seat, not having had enough time to grab something sweet to drink but still donning a green cardigan to keep her warm and comfortable.

It wasn't until she dropped her bag by her seat that she noticed her seatmate wasn't there like usual. Despite the small amount she saw of him, Harry was a rather predictable person—at least his schedule was, anyway. He was always there before her, set up with his highlighters and pens in neat rows and his notebook flipped to the exact right page. This wasn't like him at all to be missing just seven minutes before Stanfill was meant to start class. She hoped he was okay.

Eventually, just as (Y/N) begrudgingly had opened up her never ending document of notes, her seatmate stumbled through the heavy doors with a flustered expression marring his features.

He ran a heavy hand through the swirl of curls on his head, (Y/N) able to hear the audible sigh he heaved as he climbed the stairs to their row. He wore a pair of rust colored corduroy flares with a large black jumper bundled over his torso, his shoulder bag falling down his arm to land in the crook of his elbow. He clumsily sat down in his spot beside her, a mess of handwritten notes and colored highlighters and pens spilling out from the unfastened flap of his bag. Despite the mess, he breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down, the tension in his muscles dropping as he noticed Stanfill hadn't started class.

As his mess of utensils spilled across the tabletop, (Y/N) was quick to save a few of the pens and markers before they could tumble over the ledge. She passed them to him, settling them in a neat row beside the pile he was curating of his mismatched papers.

"Thank you," he responded quietly, his hands shaky as he straightened his jumble of notes.

She had never seen him so out of sorts like this. This wasn't the same guy she had pictured reading off a well-prepared speech at graduation. She was sure he wasn't used to feeling like this either if the flush disappearing down his neck and the worry curling his brow had anything to say.

"You okay?" she asked, just as quietly as he had spoken. She hoped she read him right; she'd feel awful if he took her question the wrong way like she thought something was wrong with him. The downfall of never speaking with your seatmate, she figured—she had no idea how he worked.

"Y-Yeah," he stuttered, finally setting his things out the rightful order he liked them in, "Jus' had a late start this morning." The blush that warmed his neck traveled upwards and painted over his cheeks. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, as he reached into his bag to pull out his glasses case, slipping the large frames onto his pink nose.

Just as (Y/N) was about to respond, Professor Stanfill started up his ancient projector and began babbling on with no introduction.

Beside her, Harry sifted through his notes with a purpose, opening to the preferred page before detailing more notes on the already filled page. Usually, she wouldn't be so surprised that all of the information—being so monotonously presented—were things she didn't quite understand, but today was a whole other story.

Stanfill was going on about a completely new topic than the one they left on last Friday.

She quickly scrolled through her notes while paying as much attention as she could to what he was saying. She couldn't find any remnant of today's topic (oscillations, apparently) in any of her scattered notes. She could see from the corner of her eye that her classmate was only adding tidbits to his already completed notes, nodding his head along to certain points Professor Stanfill brought up.

She flicked her gaze nervously between her lecturer and Harry. She didn't want to interrupt the boy next to her, but she really needed to have at least some semblance of what was going on. She just hoped this was worth the embarrassment.

"Excuse me?" she whispered, leaning over the bench table closer to his space.

His head popped up from his notes, his glasses shifting down his nose as his eyes widened behind the lenses. "Yes?" he answered, his voice just as hush as his gaze never shifted from her's despite the pink dusting his skin.

"What is he talking about? Did I miss something?" She flicked her gaze towards the head of the room.

"Oh," he mumbled, a furrow in his brow appearing, "Did y'not come to the lab over the weekend?"

(Y/N)'s heart dropped at his words, her expression mirroring the fall.

"There was a lab?"

He looked almost guilty as he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly nodding his head. He looked ready to say more before the sound of Professor Stanfill's voice projecting to the back of the auditorium stopped him.

"Do we have any questions in the back?" he boomed. For the first time his voice wasn't completely monotone.

Harry perked up in his seat, a stray curl landing across his forehead as his posture straightened. "No, sir," he answered quickly, shaking his head and pushing his glasses up his nose.

Stanfill shot them a warning look, flicking his searing gaze between the two of them before continuing on with the lesson (Y/N) was still lost on. Harry resumed his note taking, shooting her an apologetic glance before focusing on the page in front of him.

—————

(Y/N) was lost the remainder of the class, Professor Stanfill occasionally throwing her end of the room glances as he continued lecturing. Beside her, her seatmate continued taking his detailed notes, eventually turning to a new sheet of paper titled with another topic she had no idea they had moved on to. By the time they were dismissed, he had added another three pages to his pile and (Y/N) had typed about three words.

She knew she was going to be fucked anyway, since lab was a fairly large part of their final grade. All she wanted to do was go home, and pretend this hadn't happened. She didn't waste a second before she was rushing to pack up her supplies after getting dismissed by Stanfill.

Just as she slung her bag over her shoulder and started down the steps, a hand gently grabbed her bicep.

"W-wait," the shaky voice she had come to be familiar with sounded behind her. (Y/N) turned to find Harry stumbling after her with his glasses perched on the top of his head and his curls messily falling in his face. He clutched a bundle of looseleaf papers in his other hand as they came to a stop at the base of the steps. "I—uh—I wanted to give y'these, if y'wanted them," he reached his hand out to her with the somewhat crumpled page, "They're m'notes from the lab and today, so y'can catch up if y'wanted."

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, the already raspberry colored skin now flushing to a deep red and swelling against the force. His hands held a slight tremor as he offered her the papers.

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out at his actions. "Are you sure?" she questioned, not wanting to take them unless she knew he was okay with lending the notes she knew he took great pride in.

He jerkily nodded his head, a small smile on his face despite the fact he was still biting down on the full of his bottom lip. "I know y'need them, so please." He urged the papers towards her again, scuffing the toes of his white Vans into the floor.

She gratefully took the volunteered pages from his loose grip, her brows downturning as she gazed at him. "Thank you so much. You really don't have to do this, but it really means a lot."

"You're welcome," he smiled, dimples denting his cheeks as she took his gift. (Y/N) reciprocated his smile and scanned over the organized notes in her hands, finding his name scribbled in the top corner.

"Your name's Harry?" she confirmed, edging towards the door as he followed beside her. Now she didn't have to worry about calling him the wrong name. He nodded his head in response, her question making his cheeks turn a quick pink despite himself. "I'm (Y/N)."

Harry nodded his head beside her, a shy smile on his lips. "Nice t'meet you, (Y/N). Officially."

(Y/N) smiled at his polite introduction, looking over the notes in her hand. They had stopped just outside Stanfill's hall, the large windows showing the quad with the autumnal sun lighting up their forms.

"Thank you again, Harry," she started, sliding the papers into her bag after glancing at the time on her phone: 4:13. She hadn't planned on tuning in tonight, but if (Y/N) didn't want to miss the one sure-fire way she would get any form of stress relief after the class she just endured, she needed to get home soon. "I'll get these back to you on Friday, okay? I have to go, but I'll see you then!"

She tossed him a wave before turning around, walking towards the parking lot. Harry gave her his own dimpled grin.

"Bye, (Y/N)!"

(Y/N) smiled over her shoulder one more time before hurrying to her car.

—————

(Y/N) sighed as she settled into the down of her comforter, the smooth satin of the pajama set she had changed into sliding against her skin (she wanted to feel pretty before she watched the stream, she thought she deserved it). She pulled her laptop onto her thighs, sticking her headphones in her ears before opening up a private tab.

She barely even paid attention as she routed herself to the familiar green layout, signing in and pulling up the page scrawled with treatpeoplewkisses across the top. She hoped that she had gotten his scheduling right; she hoped that Monday was a stream night. When she saw that he hadn't started anything, instead posting the usual announcement detailing that he would be going live in ten minutes in the custom pink font, she felt lucky as she sunk into her comforter.

Just as the time ticked to five o'clock, another status came through, detailed with a link to the stream he was starting now. The only hesitation that came as (Y/N) followed the link came from her stress-wearied muscles, but she had high hopes for that feeling to be melted away by the end of the night.

The chat was already racing through with comments by the time the page loaded. The typical standby screen was situated where H would appear any second with the empty tip meter off to the side. (Y/N) melted into her bedding as she waited, grateful for the fact Ny was still in one of her classes.

Suddenly, his deep voice sounded through her headphones although the standby screen never changed. "Hello," he chirped the familiar greeting despite no view of him. The comments started flooding in, asking him where he was and why they couldn't see him. "How ar—Wait, did I forget to turn m'camera on again?"

A breathy laugh sounded through her ears causing (Y/N) to match the smile she figured was on his face. Although she hadn't been a viewer for very long at all, she had already picked up on his habit of forgetting to turn his camera on every couple of shows. After a bit of rustling coming from his end, the standby screen was replaced with the familiar view of his body from the neck down.

He wore a thin, white t-shirt tonight, his tattoos etched on his arms on display with the few covering his torso only thinly veiled by the fabric.

He waved his hand at the screen, his breathy laugh filling the air. "Hello, again. Sorry about that, 'm a little flustered today. Ran a little late this morning filming a new video, which should be up this weekend on m'premium, and I've been all out of sorts since. I apologize for being late, as well."

He settled his hands on his thighs, quiet for a moment as he assumedly began to read through the comments flooding in. Many were asking what the video from this morning featured, while others were telling him it was okay he was late and that they didn't mind. Majority completely bypassed the conversation, impatient for the real show to begin with pleads sandwiched around his honorific in hopes of spurring him on.

"Thank y'for understanding." His voice was soft as he spoke, (Y/N) could imagine him with a kind smile on his face and his eyes tender. She knew and understood why he never showed his face and respected that choice, but she often found herself wondering what he looked like behind the camera. She'd bet he's beautiful.

"Anyway," he started, painted fingers plucking at the hem of his plain top as he sat back in his chair, "How are y'today? You've already heard about m'day, I'd like to hear about your's."

A stream of comments filtered through the chat, most ignoring the question or breezing through it before sending requests for the show. (Y/N) rested her fingers on the keyboard, trying to think of an answer to his question before he would move on.

sunflowerssweetheart: mine was good thank u!! i finally asked for help in one of my classes today so hopefully i can figure out what's going on !

Like he somehow always did, he found her comment.

"That's good, sweetheart, 'm proud of you," he praised, the smile in his tone audible. She didn't know if it was particular to only her, but (Y/N) couldn't help but feel like he reserved sweetheart just for her, always replying to her comments with the pet name. She hoped it was, especially since the name was in her user. (And, she would feel a little silly getting bashful over nothing, so she clung to the hope that she wasn't just making it up).

(Y/N) felt her own smile tug at her cheeks, feeling shy at his compliment although he couldn't see her. She quickly typed out another comment before he could get distracted by the tips coming in, urging him to start.

sunflowerssweetheart: thank you h!!:)

She knew she was most likely not going to get another response from him, seeing as her comment was very quickly buried under the new tips coming in, captioned with requests to start the show and asking for daddy to "show his cock".

"I see you're in a daddy mood tonight, again," he mused, slowly tugging his shirt off and revealing the collection of tattoos adorning his torso. He settled back into his seat, his chest now bare, "Good thing I am, too."

His skin looked soft as he relaxed, highlighted by the soft lighting that surrounded his set up. (Y/N)'s heartbeat picked up as she gazed at him through the screen. She wished she could meet someone like him in real life.

She watched on as he rubbed his palm along his thighs, the look of his long fingers scratching down the fabric of his pants catching her attention. She absently trapped her bottom lip between her teeth, imagining what it would feel like to have his hands warming her skin like that, sneaking under the hem of her satin shorts in search of the tie-dye thong she had concealed under the delicate fabric. She sighed as she watched one of his hands travel between his thighs, the full of his cock filling out the fabric of his trousers.

His hand cradled the outline of his hardened prick, giving the bulge a squeeze as a hiss sounded through her headphones. His stomach muscles clenched as his breathing stuttered. (Y/N) imagined his head rolling back on the headrest of the chair he sat in, blissed out at the feel of new relief.

"Daddy's been s'hard all day for you, s'hard," he groaned, his fist wrapping around his shaft as best he could as he emulated jerking himself off in teasing twists. "Took everything not to go off in the middle of m'day and make myself cum thinking of you."

She knew he was feeding them lines like from a script, designed to make each of his viewers believe he was talking only to them, but she couldn't help but fall for it. She liked to fantasize that he had thought of her the way she had thought of him. She didn't have even half the mind to be embarrassed as she slid her hand under the waist of her shorts, brushing against the softened fabric of her underwear. She felt flush as she found the wet patch that had soaked through her thong, the wetness seeping between her lips already.

He breathed a laugh that filtered through her headphones. "Already want me to pull m'cock out? We've barely even started, baby."

Her eyes fluttered as she took in his teasing. She knew he was most likely responding to the comments she had stopped bothering to read, but it felt like he was talking to her and teasing her for wanting to see and feel all of him. Her fingers pressed gently against her clit, the wet fabric of her panties sticking to her slit. She felt breathless.

She couldn't help herself before she typed another quick comment, hoping it would somehow sway him the way she needed.

sunflowerssweetheart: please daddy:(

She watched as he gave his cock a final squeeze before settling his hands on the armrests of the chair he was sat in. He clenched his fingers around the cushioned ledge, slowly standing from his position. His stomach with the bottom of his butterfly tattoo and the full of the laurels bracketing his hips were left in frame, but the crotch of his pants were the focus of the shot. His hands slowly worked the button of his trousers, the pace teasing.

"Well, since y'asked so nicely, sweetheart," he crooned, (Y/N) melting as he said the name—her name, again. She liked to think he was doing this for her.

With that, his tip meter went up like crazy; the chat was filled with the declarations of high amounts of money being donated to him sandwiched between viewers voicing their praise. He didn't seem to pay the rise any attention, keeping his focus on the show he was giving. His pants were left undone as he pushed them down to his knees with the grey of his tight boxers being left on display. The outline of his cock laid against his thigh with a small wet patch forming where his slit dripped precum. His hand slid down the muscles of his stomach, slipping under the fabric and wrapping his fist around his shaft. He let out a deep moan, his stomach tensing at the feel of his hand and the relief flooding his system.

"This what y'wanted, baby?" he teased, playing a game with his wanton viewers. He shifted his stance, standing with his side to the camera with his hand jerking off his cock in front of him. (Y/N) could see the outline of his fingers through the fabric, his rough tugging allowing small glimpses lower into his boxers. She could just imagine the smirk on his face as he knew what he was doing, going on with the teasing while he got what he wanted.

(Y/N) own fingers pressed headily against her clit, rubbing tight circles around the bundle at the sight on her screen. She'd never gotten this wet before she found his streams that drunken lonely night, no matter if she didn't get to see his face. She dipped her fingers behind her underwear, the slick of her slit wetting her fingertips. A small whimper left her lips at the contact, picturing H's long fingers slipping through her folds.

She wanted to see more of him; see more of his body she imagined was touching her's.

sunflowerssweetheart: more p lease daddy:( im so wet:(

Her comment was messy given the fact she was typing one handed, but she hoped it would be more enticing than embarrassing. She watched on as his motions slowed in his boxers, his hand sliding out from underneath the fabric. He hooked his index fingers into the waistband, tugging his boxers down just the smallest bit to reveal the beginnings of a dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock.

"You're 'so wet', sweetheart? All for daddy, right?" he continued, his mocking words feeling directed to only her despite the comments and tips rolling in to say otherwise.

sunflowerssweetheart: all for you daddy

Without another word, he tugged his boxers down the rest of the way. His cock sprung up against his bare stomach, his large butterfly tattoo now dotted with a string of his precum. The head was ruddy and flushed, the shine of his precum coating his shaft and playing off the lighting in his room. Still standing, he wrapped his fist around his cock and started fucking down his shaft in the same rough tugs he had kept hidden from them in his boxers.

"See how hard I am for you, baby?" he moaned, his free hand coming to cradle his balls in his large palm. (Y/N) swore her mouth watered at the sight, wishing it were her hands tugging at his prick, and her mouth wrapped around the head. She wanted to make him feel good.

"Mm, yeah?" he moaned, his fist speeding up, "Like seeing daddy fuck himself for y'like this? Bet y'wish it was your hand, right, baby?"

(Y/N) let out a loud moan at his dirty talk, feeling unencumbered by the empty apartment she was holed up in. It was like he knew exactly what she was thinking. Her own fingers stuttered over her clit, the wetness seeping between her thighs making a slick noise with each pass. She watched on as he sat back down, his cock standing straight up in his lap.

He worked his pants and boxers further down to his ankles, allowing him to spread his legs further apart. She could see clearly between his thighs, the way his hand gently cradled his balls and the rough tugs along his shaft. He let out coarse moans as he stopped and squeezed at the head of his cock, his chest stuttering in correlation with his breathing.

"Feels so fucking good, you know that? Thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around daddy's cock." His voice was low and deep as he prattled on about his fantasy, his accent wrapping around his title and causing the fire to burn brighter in (Y/N)'s tummy.

"Bet you'd like that wouldn't you, sweetheart? Daddy's big cock fucking your mouth, making y'gag and get all messy for me." The hand he had cradling his balls shifted from it's spot between his legs, stopping on the straining muscles of his stomach. His hand on his prick sped up, his moans deepening with incoherent mumblings about how good he felt. (Y/N) felt her heartbeat increase in her chest as she watched the hand on his stomach dig his nails into the butterfly etched across his skin at the pleasure coursing through his system. His thighs tensed at the feeling, small red marks appearing on his skin as he drug his nails across the expanse.

"Feels s'fucking good, shit."

(Y/N) wished it could be her to cause those moans to leave his lips, the image of her sat between his thighs spurring on her own arousal.

She watched with her hand in her panties as he brought himself closer and closer to release, moans spilling from his lips and filtering through her headphones. He varied the pace of his strokes, speeding up and bringing himself close to finishing with groans of how good he felt and how he was s'close to cumming for his baby, only to stop and slow down. He would pause with his hand settling on his base, squeezing roughly to stave off his orgasm and prolong the show. Tips were flooding in the whole time, viewers urging him to cum, telling them how they wished they could be there with him, requesting different things from him. H replied to a few, bringing in more tips and comments from his audience.

(Y/N) couldn't stop herself before she brought her unoccupied hand to her keyboard, wanting to gain some kind of attention from him to bring herself that much closer to her own release.

sunflowerssweetheart: ur cock is s pretty daddy I cant wait to see u cum please

A groan bubbled from her onscreen performer, his tugs along his shaft speeding up. "Y'think daddy's cock is pretty, sweetheart?"

He sounded breathless as he replied to her, his name for her accompanied with a small shudder as he swiped his thumb over the precum soaked crown of his prick. (Y/N)'s own weeping hole gushed more wetness, soaking the already ruined panties and now the inseam of her satin shorts. She snuck a teasing finger towards her entrance, the base of her fingers still rubbing at her clit.

sunflowerssweetheart: so pretty daddy

sunflowerssweetheart: i wanna see u cum so bad

Another loud moan filtered through her ears after she pressed enter, H—hopefully—having read her comment. He spread his legs further apart, his hand reaching towards his heavy balls again as his thighs clenched at the contact.

"Y'want daddy to cum, sweetheart? Are y'close, too? Don't wanna cum without you." His voice was graveled as he moaned out his words, (Y/N)'s eyes closely following the rhythm of his tugs. She mimicked the pace with her own fingers, slipping a single digit into her hole and rubbing the heel of her palm into her clit.

She wanted him to cum so badly, to see the sticky ropes of his orgasm be released all over his tummy and his hands she wished were her's instead. Despite the other comments rolling in, declaring how close the other viewers were, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to type her own response back, even if he didn't catch it.

sunflowerssweetheart: im so close daddy i wanna cum with you

"Okay," he crooned, his voice breathless while still being able to pull off the sultry tone he had mastered, "Daddy'll cum with y'sweetheart. Gonna cum so hard for you."

She was too distracted with her own pleasure to write anything coherent back, her finger soaked inside her pulsing pussy. Her walls tightened around her digit, fantasizing what H would say if it were his fingers stretching out her pussy instead. She settled for watching the way his chest took on a pinkened flush as he grew closer and closer to the release he promised. Small, strangled groans spilled from his lips, only interrupted by the moans of curses detailing how good he felt. His hand made squelching sounds as he pumped his cock, the slick of his precum making it that much easier for his fist to pass over the length in slick runs. His thighs tensed and split wider apart as he melted in his seat. From the top of the frame, where his neck was displayed with thick veins and tendons protruding from under the dewy skin, the smallest of deep brown tendrils of hair were peeking out and curling at his jawline.

"Gonna be a lot, sweetheart, can already feel it. Gonna be s'much cum for you," he groaned, his fingers now focusing on the head of his cock as his other hand gently tugged on his balls and brought himself closer. A whimper left (Y/N)'s throat, fighting to keep her eyes open as she didn't want to miss a minute of his show.

"Y'wan—fuck," he was cut off by his own moaning, the swear falling from his lips like he had no knowledge of it beforehand, "Y'wanna see it, sweetheart? See all the cum daddy saved for you all day?"

(Y/N) nodded despite the fact he couldn't see her. His tip meter surged higher in a matter of seconds at the mention of him cumming, peaking over his usual average. More and more comments rolled in, pleading for H to cum and show everyone what he had apparently saved for them. (Y/N) didn't mind being a part of the slew of comments, her mind somewhere else and too occupied to think clearly.

sunflowerssweetheart: yes pleas e daddy

"'Please, daddy?'," he mimicked, voice pitched and whiny as his cock jumped with a small blurt of precum pearling on his tip, "So polite, s-sweetheart, can't say no to you."

Only a moment later, with his fist roughly tugging at the shaft of his prick, white ropes of cum painted his chest. They shot high enough for droplets to stand out starkly against the inked, black birds sitting on his chest, others dripping down his cock and coating his hands in the release. He wasn't lying when he had said it would be a lot. (Y/N) watched with hooded eyes as sprays of cum coated the butterfly on his stomach and the strong hands that had captured her attention the whole show. His deep moans flooded her ears, strings of curse words and uninhibited groans coming from deep in his chest. His skin was dusted a rosy pink as he breathed in stuttered, broken breaths.

Watching him cum was enough to bring (Y/N) over the edge, imagining herself there with him where she could have cleaned up for him. She came, thinking of how it would feel to trace her tongue along his chest and lick up the salty release from the muscles before cleaning his fingers and hands.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy," she called as she came, her fingers on her pussy rubbing heart stopping motions on her clit and small thrusts of her finger inside. She became impossibly wet, her release spilling past her finger and drenching the delicate fabric of her shorts. She felt the aftershocks go through her as she pictured how nice it would feel to have the weight of his big cock resting on her tongue and the taste of his cum in the back of her throat. She couldn't ever cum like this before finding H.

She hadn't realized she had fluttered her eyes closed until she heard his deep voice still breathing small moans filter through her ears, causing her to jerk her head up and blink away her cum-laden thoughts in favor of catching the end of his show. She kept her hand in her panties as she came down, delicately slipping her fingers through the mess she had made.

H was still sitting in his chair, his strong chest heaving and blushed a subtle red. His hand kept steadily jerking his cock, his member jumping as small spurts of leftover cum blurted from the tip. He came down slowly, taking longer than usual, though (Y/N) wasn't surprised if the amount of cum he had obviously been saving was anything to go by. She looked through the comments rolling in, finding the tip meter had gone higher than she had ever seen it before.

Many were asking for him to cum again, to keep the show going. (Y/N) couldn't deny that a greedy part of her wanted the same, but she could tell by the labored breathing and the way it looked like it hurt him to even tuck his cock back into his boxers, that he was much too sensitive to cum again.

A breathless laugh sounded from his end, his posture straightening as he reached for something off screen. He came back with a baby blue towel in his hand, gently wiping the cum off his chest and his hands. (Y/N) couldn't help but pout a bit at the idea of him wasting it.

"Can't cum again tonight, baby, but I'll be back soon," he said, his voice going back to the way he had started the stream. He sounded huskier, like he was tired with his tongue lazing around the words, but she liked it. She liked when he sounded just as exhausted as she felt; it made it easy to pretend this was some form of aftercare where he would cuddle her until they both fell asleep.

(Y/N) slipped her fingers out of her panties, already itching to get out of the now cold garments. She watched on as H straightened himself out, preparing for the end of his stream. His voice always took on a romantic croon at this point, the show becoming something so personal that made it easy to come back no matter how sleazy she felt afterwards.

"I adore y'so much, love. Thank y'for spending your night with me. I'll be back soon, wait for me."

Then, the screen cut to black.

The chat ceased with all other comments emptying and his tip meter going blank. With shaky hands, (Y/N) quickly logged out of the page and exited out of the site, leaving her on her previous Etsy shop pages. She carefully pulled out her headphones, stowing them away before standing on shaky legs.

Her thoughts filtered around her camboy (it felt like such a filthy phrase for someone like him, but she knew it was the reality) as she tugged her soiled shorts off along with her ruined thong. She listened closely, hoping her roommate hadn't come home early to see her walk of shame to their washing machine. Once she was in a new set of more comfortable pajamas, she dumped her clothing in the almost full machine, adjusting the settings before allowing it to run.

She washed her hands in the kitchen before trailing back towards her room. She passed her bag she clumsily dropped in the hall when she had got home, a bundle of notes sticking out from the open flap. As she picked up her bag, careful to not let the pages spill any further, she examined the notes.

As soon as she caught sight of the precise highlights and neat writing, she remembered the way Harry—not Edward—had so graciously loaned her his notes, her kind seatmate. She smiled, her first clear thought since finishing her stream with treatpeoplewkisses. She tucked the papers back into her bag, taking it with her into her room.

She couldn't help but feel sleepy as she left her bag by her desk on the floor, knowing she would have time to take a nap if she wanted to. Ny shouldn't be home for another hour or so, so she had time to snuggle into her mass of pillows and pretend the boy she had just watched on her laptop screen would cuddle her to a sweet sleep.

God, she was so happy she found H.

—————

(Y/N), with borrowed notes in hand, immediately pinned her eyes on her unassigned-assigned seat in the lecture hall, finding Harry already sat just where she hoped he'd be. He had his own gaze fixed on the perfect setup he had in front of him, the polar opposite from the mess he had worked through earlier in the week. A smile spread across her cheeks at the sight of him, still extremely grateful for the act of kindness he offered on Monday.

"Hi Harry," she greeted as she approached her seat, dropping her bag on the linoleum beside it.

He whipped his head up at the sound of her voice, eyes wide and cheeks pink, "Oh, hi, (Y/N)." A shy smile bloomed over his lips as his eyes met hers.

Settling into her spot, she offered his notes back, "Here's your notes, by the way."

Harry carefully took them from her grasp, rolling his lips between his teeth despite the clear dimples denting into his cheeks. "Thank you," he sighed, "Were they any help?"

She was hoping he would ask something of the sort. (Y/N) was extremely proud of the notes she was able to pin together with the help of his template, and she wanted to show him. "Yes, they were really helpful, Harry! Look at my notes," she said, cracking open her laptop and tapping open her physics folder. She angled the screen to show off the typed up version of his notes, the pages making more sense than the weeks of documents she already had saved, "They've never made sense like this before."

Ending with a breathy laugh, she waited for Harry's reaction. She watched on as a bright smile curled his lips, too large of a grin to be contained by the grip of his teeth. "Really?" he looked to her over the frames of his glasses, his blush reaching the tips of his ears.

"Mhm," she hummed the affirmation, sliding her laptop to sit in front of her regular spot, "You didn't have to give me your notes, so it really does mean a lot that you were willing to help me. Thank you, Harry."

"'M jus' happy I could help," he smiled, voice quiet and soft, "Thank you."

Her brow furrows at his unnecessary gratitude for her words, especially since she hadn't done anything but thank him for something kind he did. Still, she could tell there was a bashfulness that tinted his words and his voice, something that was making him nervous just like he was when he offered the notes in the first place. She didn't want to make it worse or even discourage him from talking to her again by bringing up his misplaced appreciation.

"You really like physics, huh? Like this is your class?"

(Y/N) settled into her seat, turning her body to give Harry the full of her attention. He shrugged his shoulders under the white satin shirt he had hanging open over the black top underneath. "Yeah, kinda," he mumbled, "I don't know—I know it's kind of weird, but it's really interesting to me, to be able to quantify things we can't see."

"It's not weird at all," (Y/N) said, shaking her head, "When you say it like that, it sounds really cool. I just wish I understood it; your notes helped me get this, but the rest of this class—I doubt I'll be so lucky."

Harry mimicked the short laugh she let out, his eyes dropping to her lips before he rolled his own between his teeth. "Yeah, it can definitely be complicated sometimes; you're not alone."

Stanfill made his appearance then, abruptly halting the first real conversation she'd had with anyone in her physics class and with Harry, of all people. Just as (Y/N) had said, she doubted she was going to be so lucky with the rest of the course, already knowing her next set of notes were going to be nothing compared to the aided ones she was so proud of. Nonetheless, as Professor Stanfill started off on his lacking presentation, she tried her best to keep up.

Halfway through the lecture, (Y/N) noticed the slight angle Harry's paper had taken. The page was tilted just enough to give her a view of the pieces of information he was writing down with the headings and section starters clear for her to read. She didn't know if it was on purpose, but she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to get another good set of notes that were going to make a lot more sense than whatever was being projected up front. Every time Harry stopped writing and leaned back just enough for her to get a look at what he was copying down, she did her own information search and put down the same headings and shorthand versions of what was scrawled over his page.

It wasn't until he hesitated to turn to a fresh page for him to fill, that she realized Harry was doing this on purpose. He instead tore out a stark new page, continuing where he left off while keeping what (Y/N) was still copying down in her view instead of tucking it away. A smile took her features as she figured out that none of his actions were an accident that she was taking advantage of—he wanted to keep helping her.

When Stanfill finally dismissed class, assigning reading for the weekend that (Y/N) couldn't help but be relieved about (at least she knew she wasn't missing a lab if this was their homework), it was a blessing. She didn't pack up with the same speed as she was used to, lagging behind in her movements in an effort to speak to Harry some more.

"Thank you for letting me see your notes," she smiled, tossing him a glance through her lashes as she tucked away her laptop.

As another blush crept over his features, (Y/N) worried he was going to permanently shift tones with the amount of times the blood was brought to the surface of his cheeks. "Oh, yeah. Of course."

"I just get kind of lost when he references stuff we're apparently already supposed to know or things we went over before. It's hard enough to learn something I have no idea about, and then when he compares it to something else I know nothing about, it doesn't help much," (Y/N) smiled, letting out a breathy laugh, "So thank you for letting me get a few more good notes in."

(Y/N) slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbing for her phone she had stashed in her pocket and her keys. Harry was quiet with a small smile on his features, continuing to pack up the array of utensils he had for his notes.

"Well," she started, slowly edging towards the column of stairs beside their seats, "I'll see you on Monday, Harry. Have a nice weekend!"

He stopped at the sound of her goodbye, stiffening as he rushed to close the flap on his bag. He looked to her through his lashes, swallowing before straightening and slinging his bag over his shoulder. "(Y/N), wait," he called, causing her to stop halfway down the case.

"Hm?" she hummed, turning towards him to find him having a hard time meeting her eyes and enough blush coloring his face she worried about his blood flow. He lagged around a response, the few stragglers from their class having shifted their attention towards the small scene he created. (Y/N) beckoned him towards her, calling for him to join her out into the hall.

Harry almost stumbled at least twice as he caught up with her, following like a puppy as they made it out the heavy doors that guarded the lecture hall.

"Everything okay?" she asked, wondering about his earlier effort to keep her from leaving him behind.

"Yeah—I, uh," he floundered, eyeing the ground with each step of his busted Vans, "I was wondering if y'wanted help with physics? Like, tutoring and things like that?" He swallowed around his words, finding the courage to look at her over the frames of his glasses, "You said that m'notes helped, and, if y'wanted, we could go over some of the older units and I can explain some things better. But, we don't have to if y'don't want. 'M sure you're busy and we can do like we did over the weekend and I can send y'home with some of m'notes if y'liked that better but... yeah."

He ended lamely with his gaze landing in its previous position pinned towards the ground. They had stopped walking to stand in the same corridor that he had offered his first set of notes in, though he seemed to be decidedly more nervous this second time around.

(Y/N) smiled at him from where he stood wringing the strap to his bag in his fist and scuffing his toes into the ground. She decided Harry was entirely too sweet to be so nervous over offering her some help she clearly needed; it was obvious he was really shy, but she found it cute.

"I would actually really appreciate that, Harry," she said, waiting for him to look at her so he could hopefully replace the nervous set in his jaw with a shy smile she was becoming familiar with, "I would love any tutoring you're willing to offer. I definitely need it, that's for sure."

His fumbling fingers froze in the nylon of the bag strap, perking up with the smile she was hoping she would catch, "Really?" A lone curl flopped over his forehead, a boyish look taking over his giddy features.

"You've seen my sorry excuse for notes without you—you're going to change this entire course for me if you're offering actual explanations now too."

"'M jus' happy to help," Harry offered simply, something prideful settling in the broad of his shoulders.

(Y/N) fished her phone from her pocket, tapping in her passcode and pulling up her contacts before handing it out for Harry to take. "Here," she urged, "Put your number in and we can figure out times and schedules and everything."

If it was at all possible, Harry flushed a deeper pink. His skin stood out starkly against the creamy white of the button down hanging off of his shoulders, his hands exhibiting a barely there tremor as he reached for her phone. He nodded his head, the curl that brushed his forehead swaying at the movement.

Harry was quick to fill in his information, leaving his contact rather bare before handing it back to (Y/N) with a small There.

Saving the contact, (Y/N) stuck the device back in her pocket. She started edging towards the parking lot where her car was waiting, tossing Harry a smile over her shoulder. "I'll text you later, okay?"

A bright smile took Harry's features, dimples dented into his cheeks with the full of his smile on display. "I look forward to it!"

(Y/N) stifled the small laugh that bubbled in her chest at his endearing enthusiasm. "I'll see you later, Harry!"

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment as he offered her a small wave before she turned towards the parking lot. Though, she never lost her smile since she swore she felt a pair of eyes following after her.

—————

gravity is a force of attraction, keeping all matters in line.

ahhh!!!! he's finally here!!!! its been well over a year since I first posted my camboy blurb and I've finally got his story ready for everyone to see!! patreon is getting early access to this piece, so if youre ready for more there is more up on my page!!! otherwise, I cannot wait to see what you guys think as I post a new part every Friday on here!!! thank u sm for reading and being so patient w me! sorry if theres any mistakes and if you have any ideas of whats coming next or any thoughts please send them in!!

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

I’ll Crawl Home to Her

After a long day, all Peter wants is a bit of love and someone to take care of him.

PAIRING: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3k

CONTENT: they’re 18+, fluff, nsfw, oral (m), light sub/dom, soft smut, mentions of violence, injuries + blood, thigh riding, cleaning wounds, bit of plot (?)

NOTES: inspired after the scene where Peter goes to Gwen’s place. And I should have proof read this more but I really wanted to get this out asap!

The tapping sound was faint, almost inaudible and would have been mistaken for tree branches rattling together or the traffic lights swaying in the breeze had it not been insistent. It began from the base of the window by her bed, becoming increasingly louder, slicing through the night.

The latches popped open, the window being pushed open with a hand restricted from view as a thudding sound echoed throughout the room.

The action would have been concerning for anyone but her.

Instead, she rolled out of bed, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and shuffled closer to the window. She kicked over the black bag that was tossed to the ground before looking out.

“Sorry,” Peter rasped, smiling weakly as his mouth hung open. “Wasn’t trying to be that loud.”

Peter crouched on the fire escape that wrapped around the apartment building. The soft moonlight caressed his face, hidden and shining through his hair along with the nearby multicoloured lights that reflected off the nearby bulletin boards.

There was a monochromatic beauty of the moon that the sun could never offer: the return of Peter.

“Oh, Pete,” she sighed, worried that he was maskless. Her focus latched onto the blood coating the side of his face, matting his hair to his head and the gashes and tears through his suit.

“Been a long night,” he tried to joke, shifting and climbing through the window.

She wrapped her hands around him when he came in, limping and nearly falling over. She observed him, searching for any other injuries as Peter leaned into her touch.

Peter always did this, refused to go to the hospital in fear of revealing identity. She saw what the world didn’t get to. They saw Spider-man, an invincible being, undoubtedly brave with superhuman strength and intelligence. But she saw Peter Parker: a boy battered and bruised, soft and shy — limbs pliable as clay every night.

It was a privilege knowing Peter, one that was filled with the purest of love and devotion but frightening, darkened by the fear that he may meet his match one day.

No matter how many times he managed to find his way back to her like this, it never failed to bring an overwhelming terror to wash over her, having to stifle the onslaught of tears.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed. “It’s not that bad. I’m fine. You know I heal unnaturally fast.”

She bit her cheek, nodded stiffly and led Peter into the bathroom to run a bath.

As softly as possible, she tried to peel his suit off him and lowered him in the tub. He hissed and grunted, pain etched into his face as the sensitive wounds met the warm water.

She knelt on the cold tiles, bending over the bath, wiping away the blood with wet cloths, washing away the dirt, blood and grim as Peter tried to prevent soap from entering the open wounds. He hissed through clenched several times as she lifted the alcohol-soaked rag to the cuts.

Thankfully, Peter eventually relaxed. A continuous murmur of ‘thank you’s’ left his lips was mixed in with the running tap. His head rested against the cool titles and raised white ridge of the bath as he watched her with a soft glance.

“You’re the best,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching up until noticing her expression.

Her mouth hadn’t shifted from the fine line it had set itself when she first saw his condition.

She doesn’t ask what happened, she rarely does these days, but it doesn’t stop the worry that ate away at her. And by the look of these wounds, there was no doubt he had been in a grave situation.

“Stop it,” he tried, hoping to halt her movements. “Hey — Woah — easy there.”

His hand, wet with soapy water lifted to cup her cheek and forced her to hold his gaze. “I’m fine. I’m here.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, forcing on a little smile while soaking in his touch. “I’m just… I’m always so worried.”

There was something unreadable that crossed Peter.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, kissed the tip of his nose and got up, albeit with a whine of protest from Peter, leaving to reach for the mirror cabinet to grab the first aid kit. “You never have to apologize for quite literally saving New York.”

There was a slight chuckle, followed by the splashing of water that had her whipping her head.

“Woah!” She exclaimed, rushing up to Peter who had stood by himself, grabbing his robe with wobbly legs. “Easy there, bug boy. No responsibilities for you tonight. Let me take care of you.”

Guiding him back to their bed, Peter winced as he lowered himself down, sinking into the fluffy bedding and pillows, drowning in his robe but managed to keep one hand on her thigh.

Dabbing on antibiotic ointments before applying little bandaids on top of cuts, she was acutely aware of Peter’s unwillingness to let her go, not even for a moment.

“Mm,” he said, a bit distressed as the antibiotics stung him. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“Was missing you. Makes me feel like you’re close to me.”

She continued to work in silence, smiling every once in a while and Peter’s soft gaze never left her face.

“Penny for your thoughts, Spidey?”

“Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.”

He found purchase on her hips and waist, tugging her close. His grip was a little too hard, but her heart bubbled with a sense of fondness. He always underestimated and forgot his strength and capabilities when he got overwhelmed.

She placed a kiss on top of the last bandaid placed. His skin was littered with scars; some old, some new, some still a deep red, some healed. But it didn’t make him any less beautiful or worthy. Gently hooking a finger under his chin, pulling him to her lips, focusing all her unexpressed love and adoration she felt for him.

Her movements stilled. “Do you know how much I love you?” She blurted out.

Peter smiled bashfully. “I might have a clue.”

Pushing the first aid kit to the side to properly straddle him, her hands ran through his hair, making Peter groan as he melted into the bed.

“How about you? Do you know how much I love you?”

She grinned cheekily. “I think I need a reminder.”

Leaning forward, their noses touched, and Peter’s smile grew wide as his head began to shake a little. He was so warm, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, smiling into every small kiss, finding solace in the knowledge he was home once more.

“I love you,” he whispered into the night. “I can’t believe you’re real. You’re so perfect.”

Her skin heated, heart swooning and Peter shyly ducked his face down before wincing when he shifted. It broke their comfortable silence, sending a hot flash of hurt and guilt down her spine before she turned and opened the drawer on her nightstand. Grabbing a water bottle, Ibuprofen and dark chocolate.

She always made sure to have a small stash for nights like these.

Pressing the rim of the water bottle to his lips, Peter drank gingerly, only lifting his hand to ease the bottle away, took the medication and waited as she unwrapped the chocolate, passing it to him.

His nose wrinkled as he bit into it, the bitter flavour and she giggled at his reaction.

“I know, but it’ll help regain some strength.”

As he ate, she learned that the marks came from a mutant hybrid: half-man, half-lion that was shortly detained after Peter and the NYPD chased it for ten blocks. But of course, it hadn’t gone down without a fight and ended up clawing him, tearing his suit and nearly sinking its fangs into his neck.

“Try and be more careful,” she sighed, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

Peter shoved the remaining chocolate in his mouth and placed his left hand on his heart, his right in the air as he swore, “I promise to be carefuller because I’m deathly afraid of a small kitten.”

“Oh, you dick.”

“I swear! I promise!”

“Parker —“

“I’m wounded! You know I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep!”

“You talk an awful lot when wounded.”

“So much so I’ve learned to tune myself out.”

“I — just promise me!”

“Okay! I promise.”

Happy with the answer, she beamed and reached over to the nightstand to pull out another water, only to realize that was the last one. Peter caught on quickly too.

“I’ll go get more —“

“No,” he rasped, his mood instantly changing. His hands latched onto her, a needy, desperate expression written on his face. She allowed him to pull her back to his chest, feeling his face press against her neck while murmuring against her skin as she fought the urge to shiver from his touch. “Please don’t leave.”

“I’ll only be gone for a second, okay?” She tried to soothe, a little put off by his reaction but she assumed he was still shaken up. “You need something to eat.”

But his grip tightened. “Please.”

There was a part of Peter’s brain that rationally knew she only wanted to help, be a dotting partner, but he didn’t want her to take care of his wounds anymore. They would heal — look brand new after a goodnight’s sleep and the morning sun rose. All he wanted was her: to be close, to hold and to love at that moment. Every thought that swirled in his mind seemed to be drunk on the thought of her, her, her —

Roaming the streets of New York was never boring, but it was draining to have so much control, to use strength day in, day out. All he wanted was to relinquish it for a while.

His kisses were soft, sweet, tentative with underlying desire and urgency with every touch splayed across her skin. He didn’t want to leave a single place untouched by him, too addicted to stop.

She shifted in Peter’s lap, tugging him closer only to feel him jerking his hips up slightly, just to create more friction as she felt something poke into her leg.

“Really?” She laughed, running her fingers through his hair to look at him better. His face was flushed, a deep pink, most likely from embarrassment, tinged his cheeks. “You’re hard from this?”

“You’re pretty. I can’t appreciate my beautiful girlfriend?”

“Then I think you’d like to know I’m not wearing underwear.”

“Fuck,” he chuckled, “You’re such a tease.”

His head playfully shook a few times with a light smile. Chocolate brown eyes filled with soft admiration and want; Peter was filled with vulnerability as every action screamed neediness. He pressed quick kisses to her lips then looked up at her doe-eyed. “Darling,” he whispered, desperate and pleading. “Please — please.”

“Shh,” she chided, pulling away to seat herself on his thigh while undoing the belt of his robe and dragging the soft pads of her fingers along his cock, relishing in the way Peter shuddered under her touch.

Peter whimpered, entrusting his body to her, to let her use and toy with him.

Her thumb swiped over the tip, spreading the pre-cum that beaded through while setting a steady pace stroking his length.

He groaned, head falling back against the headrest. His hips twitched and buckled up, trying to thrust in time with her strokes but he physically couldn’t, too tired to.

‘“I’ve got you, Peter,” she shushed softly, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw as her hand twisted. “I’ll take care of you.”

Muffling his soft moans with a kiss, she ravished him, and he savoured her very being. Her touch anchored him to her, a present reminder that he was loved and cared for, no matter the wrong he did, she never asked.

He moved to gasp for air, only to return sucking on the patch of skin below her jaw. But she had other plans. Shifting her shirt up, she started to roll her hips onto his thigh.

Peter was slow to respond at first but eventually took it upon himself to help rock her back and forth, moaning as he felt the wetness coat him. Hands were everywhere; gazing at her skin and holding her tightly against him. His movements began to falter and lose the rhythm, but she continued.

Pawing at her shirt and lifting it above her head, Peter trailed the tips of his fingers from her stomach, only stopping at her breast and his thumb coming to lightly rub slow circles on her nipple. He pressed gentle kisses between her breasts before his tongue poked out, tracing light circles around her nipple. He was teasing, flicking the nub with his tongue until he took it in his mouth. Her hand reached to pull his hair again, every little tug making him hold back noises simultaneously as the other hand continued to stroke his cock fast.

She moaned with every careful swirl of his tongue, squeezed around his thigh and whined when the pressure on her clit was matched with Peter lightly biting at her nipple. Her knee was pressed against his groin, adding to Peter’s pleasure.

Peter pulled away, a silver line of spit snapping that connected his mouth from her breast, peering up to watch her reaction.

He gently jerked his thigh up, meeting her thrust and the added friction made her keen.

“You like that?”

She nodded her head minutely, legs beginning to shake and tremble as she was pushed to that edge. “Uh-huh.”

There was something that flashed in Peter’s eyes before, to the best of his abilities, bounced his leg fast — finding the perfect rhythm and angle to build the pleasure that shot up her spine.

She tightened, tensed, rubbing her clit faster while Peter firmly held her, rubbing his free hand up her back as they squirmed.

“Come for me —” he sounded frantic, one hand finding its way to push her down hard, her clit dragging up deliciously. His abdomen caved in with every small brush of her pussy on his thigh and stroke of his cock. “I want you to come, make a mess. Please baby,” he begged.

She focused on the building tightening of her stomach, the shivering that began to course through her entire body that built so fast it startled her. When Peter recognized, murmured and pleaded for her not to stop, the coiling sapped, bursting and scattered — a euphoric feeling that shot through her.

He prolonged her climax, leg continuing to flex to help guide her until her pussy began to ache from the aftershock.

Peter was staring at her, his eyes glazed and eyelids heavy with a pretty flush coating his cheeks. “Please.”

Her hand began to move again, starting a steady pace again that had him at her mercy once more.

“Tell me how it feels,” she said, marvelling at him.

Peter could barely speak, exhaustion flowing off of him in waves as he was desperate for release. He let out a strangled sort of moan, throaty. “So good. So, so, so good. T-thank you.”

Smiling, she shifted off his lap and trailed down a line of kisses from his stomach, then chest before settling between his legs. Peter gulped as he watched her tongue poke out to lick the slit of his cock.

Peter almost yelped, hips bucking up instinctively, then moaned when her mouth, hot and warm, slowly dragged up the flat of her tongue and closed around the first couple inches of his cock.

Peter was responsive to the tiniest of her touches. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, lips were bitten raw.

Peter groaned, desperately trying not to thrust into her mouth, rotting himself in place by gripping the bedsheets.

Gagging a little when the tip hit the back of her throat, she fisted the rest of him that couldn’t fit in his mouth and began bobbing her head. The sucking sounds obscene and Peter’s soft mewls in the otherwise quiet room.

Encouraged by his reaction, she sped up, hallowing her cheeks, sucking harder and moaning around him. The vibration nearly made him sob while her tongue dragged over a prominent vein along the side of his cock and she relished in the way his thighs clenched.

Peter thrashed a little when she pushed her head down further. And that was enough.

He came hard, her name spilling out in soft pants and whines as he used the little energy he still had to thrust up into her mouth.

She pulled back, wiped her mouth and settled herself back in his lap. His eyes were closed and hair messily strewn across his face.

“Thank you,” he whispered, opening his heavy lids to observe her.

She quirked a brow before kissing him, catching a quick look at the shine that reflected off his leg in the moonlight.

“That bath was for nothing.”

“I don’t mind repeating the cycle.”

She giggled, he melted into her touch and smiled to himself. Peter wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close as possible and she concentrated on his heart beating.

“I love you,” he said. His eyes seemed to glitter in the low lighting; there was nothing that could compare to the love that lurked behind every glance in his eyes or mere touch.

“I love you too.”

Love seemed like a silly, simple word to describe a feeling so much more than just simple. Love was driven by passion, potential labyrinth and an imperfect intricateness that built homes over barren land of blood vessels and organs.

Love tore, love mended, love was beautiful, love was dangerous.

But in this case, love only persevered and stored itself into the cages of their heats that always seemed too small to hold so much of it — as if two souls grasped and latched onto each other so tightly and constantly added renovations to their love storage. And Peter couldn’t mutter it enough.

She left him high, loved him deeply, and at the end of the day when night returns and the stars speckle the sky, she was a steady anchor that reeled Peter back home. Nothing could hold him down, keep him away. He would crawl home to her.