#part one was the lil moodboard on main

[good-beansdraws]

Mutual left this tag on one of my Fuuta analyses and yeah...

Part two of "Fuuta’s central theme is invasion of privacy and he has extreme anxiety over being watched, so it's interesting that we get to pick him apart and see all his worst, most private thoughts" :(

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #i didnt want to be annoying with a tag but thank you trinipopkt for the original tag :3 #ive never posted something like this so let me know if i need to tag anything #my writing brain may be struggling rn but you can bet im still over here drawing fuuta 😅👍 #part one was the lil moodboard on main #this also had slight oc connections (my brain was going brrr having a scientist oc) but once again its general to the audience overall #plus i was really proud of the composition/posing/colors i switched to -- i was excited to share!! #it took me like 80 years to pick a composition/pose that worked asdfsadsg #and i had to redo all my coloring and shading because i wanted a more neutral sterile science look than what i originally had #anyway it wasnt my usual type of drawing so it was a lot of fun to see it come together! #i did the first version and my partner said it was mean (and against procedure) to keep him awake #but then the second version felt equally mean :(((( so in conclusion rip fuuta #he is my little bug and i am going to figure out what makes him tick

[dckweed]

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND, bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut, reader has anxiety!

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

this took quite a bit to get out huh? lol anyway send in requests for bob and sunny if you have any my loves!

series masterlist here, series playlist here, comment on part one for the taglist!

PART THREE: bagman. 

Purple and pink lights covered the dark stage, following your movements as you strode across it dressed in nothing but some white strappy heels with cute little cherries on them and a lacey red lingerie set. You had opted for a short wig that night, a blunt bob and in all honesty it made you feel like a whole new person as you stared out at the slightly crowded seating area next to the stage. Rowdy men were hollering already, slapping bills down onto the black top of the stage before you had even touched the pole yet, they were loving it. 

Music starts and you block out the crowd, moving your body to the beat as you do a routine you’ve been practicing in the couple of weeks you’ve been off, wanting to change up your dances for your regulars a little bit. You dance for nearly five songs, your new routine a big hit amongst the crowd and as you stride off of it, stopping to shake your ass here and there in front of who you deemed as deserving gentlemen, picking up handfuls of bills every time you did. The stage was absolutely covered in them, and you couldn’t have been more thrilled. You were fairly certain that there was enough her for you to be able to call it a night if you wanted to, you knew your boss wouldn’t mind if you went home early, he was still iffy about you coming in with a bruise still showing anyway (even though you perfectly covered it with makeup). A stage hand passes you with a big bag as you make your way off stage, the lights off as they go to clear up the money that you couldn’t grab. 

You were headed to the dressing room, needing a break after 5 songs but you’re stopped by your boss, Edwin. “You looked good out there Sunny,” He says an arm popping around your shoulder as the older gentlemen lead you away from the direction you were trying to go. You lean into him head on his shoulder. “Always a crowd pleaser, you are, you were missed during you time off.” 

You smile at his words, despite his hard appearance Edwin was actually a really kind man and he had taken you under his wing when you first came to town, had given you your job illegally even though you had just barely turned 21 and because of it you had grown close. If Bob hadn’t come to your aid the night that your pice of shit ex boyfriend had gone to town on you, you know that Edwin would have (even though he was in the middle of running the club) and he almost did when you called him the next day to tell him what happened. 

“I know it’s your first night back, and you wanted to take it easy,” He says, stopping you in the doorway just before the main floor of the club, where patrons were milling about as the stage hands finished clearing your set. “But you seemed to have caught the attention of one of those ship boys over there by the bar,” He points towards a group of them and you purse your lips, thanking god that none of them looked like Bobby from this angle. “Requested Ivy Wild for a private dance, told him you’re the boss when it comes to that..”

You sigh at the mention of being requested by name, looking back towards the dressing room. You weren’t sure how much you made from your stage appearance yet, not until you counted it, but you knew that if you did a half hour private dance that you’d walk away with three hundred at the least..you couldn’t say no to that kind of money. 

“I’ll take him, put him in room four.” You say, before turning on your heel to head towards the dressing room. “I’m gonna go freshen up real quick before I head in there.” 

The room is dark when you enter, nothing but a dim blue light around the ceiling to light up the room, casting shadows across the firm leather couches and the man lounging across them. You slink your way into the room, coy smile splaying across your lips. 

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing..” The man says, leaning back against the couch. He spreads his legs slightly as he does. He’s clad in dark jeans and a crisp white button up that is so tight you can practically see the outline of his abs through the fabric. You can’t see his face in the shadows but you can tell from his voice and the way he manspreads that he’s handsome, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little excited. “You gonna dance f’me?” 

If you listened close enough he even sounded a little bit like Bobby and for some reason, that made your face flush. “You gonna follow the rules pretty boy?” You flirt, moving your hips to the music that was playing softly in the room, standing just barely in front of him. “You can look but you can’t touch, got it?”

“Whatever you say, hot stuff..” He seems to sigh almost dreamily as you start putting on a show for him. 

You touch your body, letting your hands travel down it as you swing your hips to the beat, putting on a routine for him. Just as you’re about to give him a lap dance, ready to straddle your lean legs one either side of his thick thighs he reaches out for you, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your midriff. “Aht, Aht-” You say, pushing him back with your foot on his chest, your heel digging into the muscular expanse. “No touching, pretty boy..” 

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me here..” 

When you leave the room fifteen minutes later, it’s with a self righteous smirk across your lips. You had made the man cum in his pants with your lap dance and you hadn’t even let him touch you, it was a rarity but you loved when it happened, it was quite the ego boost if you were being honest with yourself. You could have done without the three hundred and fifty that he had left for you and just rode the high of a stroked ego for the rest of the night, but you took it anyway and shoved it in the bag that the stage hands had left by your locker. You would count it out when you got home, you were ready to leave and you were positive you already made over a grand tonight, there was no need to stay other than to see to the other girls but they all seemed okay with themselves tonight. 

You poke your head into Edwin’s office and bid him goodbye on your way out, making your way to the employee parking lot afterwards where you parked your car, It’s a surprisingly short drive home given the time, and when you park your car on the side of the street outside of the building, you’re surprised to see Bob out, Cosie’s leash in hand. 

“Hey, Bobby!” You say cheerfully, hopping out of the car with your duffle bag and bag of cash in hand. He turns at hearing your voice, as though he was startled. 

“Sunny, you getting home early or late?” Yeah, the man earlier sounded almost exactly like him, you think and can’t help but smile. He holds the door open for you and lets you walk in ahead of him after you stop and stoop down to pet Cosie. 

“Early, told Edwin I wanted to take it easy..” You say, walking through the lobby of the building to the elevator with him. He hits the button for you too. You notice the way he looks at you when you mention Edwin and you remember that you never told him much about the club. “Edwin is the owner of the club, my boss..and he’s kind of like my dad in a way though thats a little weird to say because he sees me in lingerie all night..” You weren’t sure where the sudden rambling came from, perhaps it was a reaction to him putting his hand against your lower back to usher you into the elevator before him, or maybe it was the smell of his cologne that lingered in your nostrils but damn it made you feel nervous and giddy all at the same time. 

He hums as he punches the button for your guys’ floor, adjusting the leash to his other hand as Cosie rubs against your legs. You were still clad in your strappy heels, feeling too impatient to stop and take them off. He does the thing with his hand again to user you off of the elevator before him and you just about die on the spot, what is it with you? Was gentlemanly behavior really that big of a thing for you?

Within a few moments you’re at your door, his just a few steps farther than yours and he stops, holding your bag without a word as you shove your key into the lock and bully the door open. You open your mouth to say goodnight but find yourself saying something else entirely. “Do you wanna come in? Help me count all this maybe?” You hold up the bag of cash, and he glances down at it, soft smile on his handsome face. 

“Sure.” He finds himself saying, even though he has work in a few hours. You’re just so sweet with your damn eyes and flushed little cheeks that he can’t say no. 

The next few hours are filled with him sitting with you on your living room floor, sprawled out in front of the couch, piles of money in front of the both of you. You had gone and changed into a small pair of pajama shorts with little red hearts on them and a white tank top, but not before having him take photos of your heeled feet for you so you could post it on your instagram. 

“It’s almost four..” You whisper, your head leaned against his shoulder. You guys had stayed on the floor and you found yourself leaning against him as our eyes drooped, tired from you first day back at work but not wanting to fall asleep just yet. You listened to him tell you stories about his job, and you fell in love with how much he loved his job, how happy it made him. 

“You sleepy, Sunny?” He murmurs, that Montana accent thick. He turns his head to look down at you, almost wishing that he hadn’t because from this angle and in this lighting he could pretty much see through your shirt and it was all he could do not to pop a boner right here next to you at the sight of your pert nipples and supple tits. 

You hum in response, already on the cusp of unconsciousness. The last thing you remember is him shifting, his warm arm coming to wrap against your shoulder as if pulling him farther against him. 

By the time you wake the next morning, he’s long gone, though he’s left you in his hoodie that you don’t remember putting on and with Cosie. You can’t help but pout at his absence, having found yourself more comfortable with someone you were fake dating than anyone you had ever actually dated. You were surprised that you had fallen asleep, that you hadn’t woken when he left and when you check your phone, you’re even more surprised to find a text message with a photo of a sleeping you attached, your head against his chest, eyes closed and peaceful..

Navy Dude: thought i would take something for my own instagram..see you tonight..

You couldn’t help but giggle, breathing in his scent as you read the message and immediately going to check his instagram account before making yourself busy for the rest of the day by taking Cosie on a long walk and doing your pilates work out in the living room, practically counting down the hours until he would arrive to take you to meet his friends. Your first official date as a fake couple. 

You’re just struggling into a cute little yellow dress sun dress when you hear your door open and Cosie give a happy yip, with your arms cocked behind you, you glance towards your bedroom door, hearing his footsteps fall down the hallway. “Bobby?” You call out, almost a whine. “I can’t get my dress zipped..” 

He’s in your room in a matter of seconds, his long and lithe body taking up your doorway. He’s in his service uniform, the tan khaki’s littered with different colors of pins that you would have to ask him about later. You thought he looked handsome in his uniform, but he looked downright drool worthy when he wore his flight suit home, though you assumed they hadn’t done any flying today. 

“Let me help,” He murmurs as you stand in front of him. He bats your hands away before gently moving your loose hair over one shoulder, out of the way of the zip. “Dress looks real pretty..” His fingertips trail down the exposed skin of your back and you suck in a breath, chills going down your spine as they go up, up, up, stopping just between your shoulder blades. 

“Do I look okay?” You ask softly, smoothing out the flowy skirt that just barely went past your mid-thigh as you turned to face him, looking up at the taller man. You had put on enough makeup to cover up what was left of your bruises, but not nearly as much as you had worn at work last night. You were meeting friends, there was no need to paint your face like you would at work. You weren’t sure if you should put on more though, you wanted to look okay for him, you wanted him to have his friends’ approval. 

“You look gorgeous,” He murmurs, corners of his lips turning up as he looks down at you. You were practically chest to chest by that point, you would call it an almost intimate moment. His hand comes up from his side, fingertips grazing against the skin of your cheek before brushing your hair behind your ear, you blush as you notice yourself leaning into his touch slightly. “Think you look real pretty in yellow, Sunnygirl..” 

“Thank you..” You breathe, not realizing that you had somehow moved close enough to him that your noses were practically touching, him stopped down towards you. It wouldn’t take much for your lips to brush together now, just lean into him a little farther, and you would have too if Cosie hadn’t barked from your feet, scaring you so badly that you jump about a foot in the air, cheeks flushing as you realize that you had been about to kiss him and he hadn’t even tried to stop you. 

“Right, so,” You clear your throat, turning to go back to your closet for a pair of matching sandals. “Why don’t I go walk Cosie while you change and then I’ll meet you by your truck?”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah,” He says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he turns, his own cheeks flushing red. “You do that, i’ll be right down..” 

Nearly forty-five minutes later, he’s pulling his silverado into a parking spot near an old Bronco, throwing the shifter into park. You take in a deep breath, looking over at him. “This is it.” You say, the whole scheme that you two had cooked up finally feeling real to you. The man next to you nods, taking his keys from the ignition and shoving them down into his pocket. “Alright Bobby, let’s do this.” 

The parking lot isn’t overly crowded, but the patrons inside the bar are loud as you walk up to it. Your nerves get the better of you the closer you get to the front doors, your hands shaking with anxiety and you try to channel it into smoothing down your dress skirt but it does no good. Bob notices though, and suddenly he’s sliding his much larger hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, Sunny.” He says, and you smile up at him feeling like a fool. You hadn’t realized that your anxiety was so noticeable, you thought you had been better at hiding it. 

Before you cn respond to him, he’s pushed open the doors of the bar, stepping in first to hold it open for you, his hand not leaving yours once. Almost immediately there’s a call of his name traveling throught he air and the sounds of chairs scraping and before you know it you’re surrounded by a few big, buff dudes and a bubbly girl who looks the most excited to meet you. 

You do your rounds of introductions, Phoenix gives you a big hug, ripping your hand from Bob’s in the process and practically lifting you off of the ground, and though you’re meeting her under the guise of being his girlfriend, you know that you’re going to be good friends.

Rooster gives you a firm handshake, his ginormous hand enveloping yours as he smiles down at you. You take in his features, he’s quite handsome despite the scarring on his face (that you desperately want to ask questions about, though you keep it to yourself) and you notice the lack of a ring on his hand or on the dog tags looped around his neck, peaking out of the top of the white undershirt he had put on under his loose hawaiian shirt. You think he’d be a good match for one of your friends and you make a mental note to ask Bob about it later. 

Coyote is gentle, and quite sweet but he’s a bit of a flirt and you feel yourself leaning more into Bob while you’re talking with him briefly, wanting it to look like you weren’t available (because technically to them, you weren’t). He introduces you to who you realize is one of his best friends next, Hangman, or as you had heard Bob call him, Bagman. He’s still wearing his uniform, and when he shakes your hand he gives you a charmingly sweet smile that you just know makes the girls weak in the knees, but when he talks to you? Your stomach drops to your knees.”Hey there, pretty thing..” He must know it too, because he smirks at you, that accent heavy. 

You swallow thickly, turning to Bob. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink, I’ll be right back, baby..” You say, giving him a kiss on the cheek for show before heading over to the bar. “Shot of tequila, please..” You say to the woman tending bar, leaning against it as you let out a breath. 

Bob’s friend was the man you had given a private dance to last night..the man who you had made cum in his own pants. How fucking bad could this get, you wondered? You hadn’t exactly lied when you told Bob’s friends that you were a dancer, you just hadn’t exactly specified what kind of dancing you did for a living, not expecting that one of his friends would be one of your customers. 

She sets the shot glass down in front of you just as you feel a presence behind you, directly behind you. His body was solid and warm as he put his arms on either side of yours, boxing you in. 

“Does he know?” His voice his quiet in your ear, making your body go stiff. You were uncomfortable, but you knew that he wasn’t going to hurt you or touch you in anyway. 

“That I made you cum in your pants?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow as you turn to face him. His head was right next to yours, eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “No, Bagman, I don’t think he does, and I don’t think he needs to either.” You knock back your shot, the liquid sliding down your throat with ease. “Just like I don’t think your group of friends needs to know that you spent your sunday night getting a lap dance from a stripper, now do they?”

You must win whatever stand off this is because after a moment his moves his arms, letting you brush past him. You hear him ask for a round of beers from the woman, and to put your shot on his tab as you make your way back to Bob who gives you a questioning look, you realize he must have seen the whole encounter. You lean up to kiss his cheek as you come back, his arm going around your waist firmly as you whisper to him that you needed to tell him something when you guys got home. You honestly thought it was funny, but you were sure that he was going to be freaked out. 

taglist:

@mamachasesmayhem @hangmandruigandmav @shotgunhallelujah @shiara04 @3tabbiesandalab @tgmreader @flrboyd @goosterroose @mrspedropascal5683 @sugajar

@dory-98 @justherebecausesafarisucks @eloquentdreamer @sweetwhispersofchaos @pet1t3 @teacupsandtopgun @milkbummm @purplevortexx @silenterosion

#kara writes #top gun maverick #jake seresin #top gun #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd smut #robert floyd #lewis pullman

[sunshinesteviee]

tis the damn season — sneak peek

just posting a lil sneak peek (the first few paragraphs) of the fic i’m working on based off the song by taylor swift!! including a lil collage i made with the vibes of the fic hehe enjoy!!!!

Snow crunched underneath the tires of your mom’s car as she drove down main street, past the library, past the drug store, past the police station. Past all of the places you knew so well, but reminded you of a different lifetime. It hadn’t really been that long since you’d left for college, but everything felt so much different.

You’d left Hawkins pretty quickly, not long after defeating Vecna. Much to your surprise, you’d actually been accepted into a few of the colleges you’d applied to, and so when the time came, you were more than ready to pack up and leave Hawkins behind you. Unfortunately, that meant leaving behind everyone you knew and loved. It wasn’t the people that made you want to leave, it was the town itself, and all of the horrors it hid. It hadn’t been an easy decision — you’d agonized over it for months — but eventually, you decided it would be good to get a fresh start. And besides, you’d only be two hours away.

That fact didn’t make leaving any easier, though. Especially when one of the people you were leaving behind was your childhood best friend. The same best friend you’d been in love with for years. The same best friend who you’d gone to literal hell and back with. The same best friend who had confessed his feelings for you shortly before you were set to leave for school. In typical Steve fashion, he’d chosen the worst possible moment to lay everything out on the table.

There had always been something there. Lingering touches on your waist, stolen glances when the other wasn’t looking. Hand holding, cuddles during movie nights, chaste kisses on the cheek. It was obvious to everyone except the two of you. But of course, Steve confessed only as you were leaving.

It had broken your heart to break his, especially when you’d been waiting years for that exact moment. You’d spent hours thinking about and wishing for the moment when your best friend professed his love for you, only to have to turn him down when it finally happened.

The decision, though earth-shattering, had seemed like the right one at the time. It made sense in your head. What brand new relationship would work from two hours apart?

And despite the hurt, Steve had dropped you off at your dorm just like you’d planned. He’d helped you move in, given you the longest hug known to man, and promised to call as soon as he could. For the first week, Steve called every night to ask about your day and to make sure that you were okay.

But it had been weeks since you’d last properly talked to Steve, and it was killing you. Part of you was dreading seeing him, knowing the conversation that had to be had, but a bigger part of you felt like it was dying without him. You’d never been apart for this long, especially without talking regularly, and you missed him more than words could explain.

Your breath fogged up the glass as you stared out your frosted window and then doodled in the condensation. You weren’t sure how you were going to approach Steve, how to try to fix things. If things even could be fixed. There was a high likelihood that everything had been ruined, and if that was the case, you weren’t sure how you’d survive. How you’d live without him, especially after everything you’d been through together. You needed your best friend.

—

The fic isn’t done yet, but I can’t resist posting this & the moodboard collage I made hehe. Happy holidays!! Hoping to post this before the new year. If you want to be tagged when I post this, please let me know! 🫶🏼

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #wip #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #sunshinesteviee #sunshinesteviee writing #loverboy

[geeky-politics-46]

Series Masterlist

Back to main masterlist

Smut/Explicit content - 18+ only!

Pairings: Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader, Doctor Stephen Strange x Reader

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - fingering, dubious consent, deception, manipulation, breeding kink, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex, dirty talk, pet names, jealousy, language, toxic relationship, kinda cheating?, Stockholm syndrome, unplanned pregnancy, kidnapping, canon level fighting/violence, mention of pregnancy complications (minor)

Part 1 - Awoken from sleep by the teasing kisses of your sorcerer, but one look in his eyes tells you something is off. Is he really your Stephen Strange? Or is he something more sinister?

Part 2 - Much to your surprise, & Stephen's, you discover you are pregnant. With twins. As the pregnancy progresses you start to feel everything is not as it seems.

Part 3 - Wanda brings what she saw to Stephen & Wong. What will happen when the man in your dreams tells you who he really is?

Part 4 - You begin to settle into your new universe while the others plan your rescue & make an important revelation to Stephen.

Part 5 - (Coming Soon)

Alternate Ending Part 5 - (Coming Soon)

Epilogue - (Coming Soon)

Extra fun things:

NSFW Alphabet -Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader

Moodboard - based on your relationship with Sinister Strange

Playlist - songs picked specifalcally to describe Sinister Stange & his intentions

Poll regarding baby gender - vote on what you want the 2 Strange's & the Reader to have

Poll regarding Strange outcome - vote on which Strange the reader should end up with

Art inspired by the story - by the amazing @mydearalmira ❤️

———————————

If you are interested in being tagged in any pieces added to this series please let me know here & I will add you to the list. If your name is already listed below than you are already set to get updates. Thank you!

Stephen Strange Taglist: @starkiller-queen @glitterylokislut @verycollectivecreator @chatampr @maskmare931 @lovecleastrange @wheredafandomat @mkixx @evelynrosestuff @katefullerrr @littlepinknightmare @foofarny @stygianoir @moonroyalt @saturnsbabe69 @blaxdet @blackrose-92 @ironstrange1991 @rindulacre @nancy-thompsons @sandyloveskeanu @dangerouslittlefairy @n0obmaster-69 @oliveoilthoughts @onebatch--twobatch @yourmajesty13 @blondekel77 @lil-sweater-slut @andrewgarfieldsloml @taramaria @sinceimetyou @possessedjoker @coeurgrenaty @cc13723things @just--a-magpie @supervengerslock @strangelockd @dont-feel-so-good-peter @kingsmanperfecthartwin @ghost-lantern @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @katherinemaximoff @cute-angi @veryfancydoilies @itssmaugtheterrible

#doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange smut #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange smut #stephen strange x you #doctor strange x you #sinister strange smut #sinister strange x you #sinister strange x reader #sinister strange #stephen strange moodboard #doctor strange moodboard #sinister strange moodboard #mcu moodboard #dr. stephen strange #dr. strange x you #dr. strange x reader #dr. strange #sexy sorcerer #you belong to me #dark!strange #dark!stephen strange #dark!stephen strange x reader #dark stephen strange #dr stephen strange #doctor strange fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness

[trivijoy]

﹙ 🎢 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ the reve festival: trivijoy

• as a fun little way to show my appreciation i've decided to host an event! thank u to @y-ves who started this trend and gave me permission to make one of my own<33

﹙ 🎡 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ main event instructions

• there will be a total of 4 activities, to participate in any of them first reblog this post and tag a friend or two, using the hashtag "#the reve festival: trivijoy"

• this event lasts exactly 1 week so don't be shy and join the fun!

﹙ 🎠 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ activity 1: zimzalabim

(for moodboard accounts)

• pick any b-side on this album and dm me the name of the one you've chosen using a format like this

"the reve festival: zimzalabim = parade"

• then based on your answer I'll give you a red velvet member and you'll make a moodboard using that member. there's no requirements to the moodboard other than it must have the member that I assign you with <3

• make sure to @ me in the post and use the hashtag "#the reve festival: zimzalabim"

﹙ 🥤 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ activity 2: milkshake

(also for moodboard accounts)

• head on over to my spotify account, check my following list and pick an artist OR go to my other account @trivij-oy and send me an ask with an emoji and I'll give you an artist.

• then make a moodboard based on said artist's most recent comeback. if the artist you picked/that was given is a group then you can choose whether to do the full group or just use a/some member/s in the moodboard.

• make sure to @ me in the post and use the hashtag "#the reve festival: milkshake"

﹙ 🎪 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ activity 3: bing bing

(anyone can take part)

• i absolutely adore animals! yall do not wanna know how many pets i have 😨 one of my signature marks in my content is animals, i always try to add pictures of animals in whatever i post!

• this activity is pretty much a counting game. your task is to count how many posts on my blog have animals in them in some way, whether it be images, dividers, emojis, anything that has an animal in any of my posts, then dm me the number using a format like this

"the reve festival: bing bing = 123"

• this does not count for any content I post after the challenge has started bc the number will keep changing !!! and if i catch yall giggling at my old posts i'm gon fight 😞

﹙ 🎈 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ activity 4: parade

(anyone can take part) (insp @hearts4pixxie)

• this is a pretty standard basic guess the idol game, to take part dm me with the format

the reve festival: parade = clue?

• then i'll give you a hint and you'll have to guess which idol/idol group i'm talking about. it's the same question for everybody and you get one guess (but you'll get a second hint if you've already taken part in any of the first 3 activities)

﹙ 🩷 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ activity 5: lp

(anyone can take part)

• this one technically isn't an activity just a lil memory keeping thing

• i bought this like mini printer and i've started a scrapbook and i would love to make a section dedicated to my time on tumblr! just type in the comments something random or funny that i can print out and stick in my scrapbook 🫶🏾

﹙ 🍬 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ prizes (activity 1&2)

1st place : 88 reblogs, 10 custom mbs, 3 custom watermark-less fancams, 7 custom flash gifs, custom blog layout, + 7 follows

2nd place : 66 reblogs, 6 custom mbs, 2 custom watermark-less fancams, 4 custom flash gifs, + 5 follows

3rd place : 44 reblogs, 4 custom mbs, 1 custom watermark-less fancam, 2 custom flash gifs, + 3 follows

4th & 5th : 22 reblogs, 2 custom mbs, 1 custom flash gifs, + 2 follows

6th + : participation prize ×2 + custom mb

participation : 12 reblogs + 1 follow (so technically the person who wins 1st gets 100 reblogs and 8 follows)

﹙ 🍭 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ prizes (activity 3)

first 5 to get the correct number : 35 reblogs, + 3 follows

anyone else that gets it correct : 13 reblogs, + 1 follow

﹙ 🚃 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ prizes (activity 4)

first 5 to guess correctly : 25 reblogs, + 3 follows

anyone else that gets it correct : 10 reblogs, + 1 follow

﹙ 🪿 ﹚ ✶ ׅ ࣪ prizes (activity 5)

getting your message stuck in my scrapbook forever (or until i lose it which is more likely 💀)

If you have any questions just dm me !!<3 I hope y'all take part and have fun 🫶🏾

#trivijoy #the reve festival: trivijoy #loc cr p-uffs

[subskz]

Pink's Moodboard for BB chptr 4:

CRYING SOBBINH SLIDING DOWN THE WALL COUGHING A BIT GAGGING A BIT

NOOOOO MY BABIES AJBSJWNSIWBWI OWNSUWJWHWIJEBEUW WHE WUUWVWUWBE HEUWHEIWBEUW EUW UEHWVEUW

brb as i throttle y/n and minho :)

Also... very close to making a BB playlist. Like, trust, the brain is braining (that being said, if there's a song you would want on there lmk)

BUT

HJABQIWNWJENHW SYWBWIEBEU EUWJEEBWUEBE EBHWJWBEUBW CHANNIE, MY BABY ANGEL

THE CAT W THE CIGARETTE IS SENDING ME 😭😭😭 I AM SORRY PINK MY ANGEL…hope the drama of it all wasn’t too much LMAO our babies…our maladjusted silly lil meow meows -_-; that first pic is you and i getting lino’s ass for having a paw in all this!

a bb playlist no WAY that’s so incredibly sweet of you ㅠㅠ i would be honored if ur big brain whipped smth up but no pressure at all! i do actually have a lil list of songs in my head that remind me of the story hehe. if u do decide to make a playlist there’s no need to include any of these, bc i’d love to see ur personal vision for it! but here are a few just in case~

disloyal order of water buffaloes - fall out boy (this is the main song bb is inspired by and where the title comes from!)

are you bored yet - wallows ft. clairo

washing machine heart - mitski

i am you - skz (a bit on the nose lol)

you are the moon - the hush sound (this one reminds me of how the reader sees channie ㅠ it heavily inspires the 2nd half of the final part!)

#ask #pink #💌 #also!! i started listening to ur on track playlist and i see new songs have been added!! #the weeekly and mxmtoon ones are some of my faves as expected esp almost home! #and top secret is so perfect for that innocent puppy crush vibe at the beginning of the story <3

[renegadepack]

do you have any twilight blog recs? i’m trying to get back into it but everyone seems to have deactivated :’(

BOY DO I!!!! i've been waiting for an ask like this so long that many of the blogs i originally would have rec'd have deactivated or switched focuses. but good news there's always lovely new blogs joining the squad. here are some of my faves:

@howlonghaveyoubeenseventeen emma the light the angel a queen who chooses to bless us with her presence daily. she's an absolute sweetheart and i love her so much; i'm so lucky to call her my friend! emma reblogs a lot; mostly wolf pack focus but with fair amount of other characters. a lot of good memes. also has an impressively large twilight library and is able to answer basically any question about the saga, with references.

@panlight i'm pretty sure they're one of the OGs of the renaissance, long before it was actually a thing?? anyways an actual legend among people. we haven't talked too much, but they always post a TON. a pretty good variety of all characters, with less of a focus on the main three (eddie/bells/jake.) their responses to questions are so well thought-out and super interesting to read. they also run @keepingupwiththecullens which is truly the funniest thing on god's green earth.

@forkscult noy is another one i haven't talked to much, but they seem so cool!! another wolf-pack focus blog, but they have a pretty good variety of reblogs. a lot of really aesthetic content. they create graphics that im absolutely obsessed with, mostly focusing on a modern au. they're SO pretty and fit the characters so well, esp. with the lil descriptions!

@phil-dwyer-stan-account addison is so cool! their blog features some non-twilight posts, but they have a lot of reblogged memes and such! they made moodboards that are so so pretty. a very fun presence on the dash.

@the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis hello i love mj that is all. no but seriously they're SO sweet. they always leave lil tags when reblogging posts that are just so so kind and i love reading their thoughts. fair amount of reblogging but they ALSO have some writing and analysis that i just adore. super talented and i love seeing what they post! team jacob focus i think?

@musingsofvenus madi is so cool! another wolf pack focus (are you sensing a theme here? good.) she posts a lot of fic and it's so good! i haven't read too much of it, but i've absolutely adored what i have. (pink cheeks, two left feet anyone?) also v funny. an all around gem.

@paulxlahotee big billy black/gil birmingham focus, as we all should be. michele is so cool and funny and adds such an interesting voice to the fandom. has made some really cool and important posts on the indigenous rep aspects of twilight that i'm really thankful for. also super talented and sweet! makes the coolest beaded earrings.

@teamjacobthot dee!!! is!! a!!! gem!!! she's SO funny and has such good takes. wolf pack focus ft. plenty of clowning on the cullens as they deserve. also a brilliant fic writer; "nyctophobia" is six chapters (so far!) of *chef's kiss*.

@rosaalee i love bri with my whole heart!!! they're so funny and sweet and such a good friend - any time we've talked it's been such a positive part of my day! makes beautiful edits and brilliant af memes.

@the-golden-onion madly has no fucking business being so mf funny and yet??? everyday??? she's here??? being thee funniest mf around? no but seriously mads is so cool and her blog is such a delight to follow! also has the sweetest comments. i'm so glad to have her in my life.

#you told me #if i fucked up names/pronouns plz lemme know so i can fix it!!! #anyways love u guys thanks for postin about this stupid series for us to enjoy

[pedrito-friskito]

kay! kay!! KAY!!! tell me (and the people) about the age of love!!! !!

KYYYYYYYYYY.

okok okokokokokokkkkk soooooooo

I’m letting my history nerd jump OUT on this and I’ve also fallen down a vampire rabbit hole so my brain said hey lets put those two things together. moodboard? check. playlist? check. actual will to write? semi-check.

basically, vampire love across the ages (hehe get it?) - medieval, the renaissance, the world wars, the modern age. the whole damn thing. and that’s just part ONE. 🤭

I don’t want to give TOO much away but it’s gonna be a lot of emotions and probably a lot of sex cuz self control? we don’t know her.

also since @thevoiceinyourheadx sweet midge asked for a sneak peek, a lil bit here and a lil bit more under the cut! (warnings for blood + injuries)

They had warned him what might happen, if he ever found it. Warned him of the way his body would revolt against his wishes, desperate to be nearer, to be closer. The way his thirst would have him nearly crawling out of his skin, the fire he’d learned to staunch with years of practice would roar to life in an instant. The sheer protectiveness that would overcome him, overpower any preconceived notions he had. It wasn’t common, so the warnings had been halfhearted, but stern nonetheless. He’d brushed them off; it wasn’t something he’d go looking for.

And yet he had found it all the same.

It was late. The sun was long gone, the moon hanging bright in the sky, smoke-like clouds smudging across the crescent shape. The air had gone cool, the promise of rain not far off. He’d run every errand Anton had asked of him, delivered every letter and collected every payment, and Max was on his way home. Home in the relative sense, of course — since Anton had turned him, he’d claimed one of the man rooms in the viscount’s estate as his own, but it still didn’t feel like his true home.

The streets were mostly empty, save for the odd patron stumbling out of the taverns that littered the market. Max kept himself clear of the humans, his hunger prickling at the back of his throat. He needed to tend to it, he knew, but it was neither the time nor the place.

But then the wind changed, and he heard her. Smelled her.

The soft whimper was low enough that he knew she was far off, his head twitching in the direction, feet carrying him down the alleyway. It grew darker and darker that farther he went, further from the lights of the main square. Every step, he inhaled deeper, until the scent was buried in his chest. The beast inside him purred to life, a cat stretching from a long nap, glittering eyes peering into the night.

Despite the darkness, he could make out every detail. He saw her limp form, the blood streaked up and down her arms, and when he crouched before her, the bruises and gashes on her face, pretty beneath the gore. Her hair was wet with blood, making the dark colour only darker, and he assessed her, noting the way her foot was turned at an unnatural angle.

“What’s happened to you?” he murmured, his hands hovering over her, unsure what to do, thirst streaking fire down his throat. “Who did this?”

Her head lolled, and the movement sent a fresh wave of her scent toward him. Blood and honey. He grit his teeth, ignoring the way his fangs pierced his own lip, drew his own blood. Her words were unintelligible, her voice twisted with pain.

“Help me.”

#wips #original work #kay talks to people #mutual bbys #age of love #ya i’m writing a vampire book get at me

[summerfrwrks]

winx club meets a major reboot

like fanfiction-wise anyways cause i've had these ideas for a winx club reboot ever since this march (14?? i think?? or maybe a lil earlier)

this post is more of an interest check. feel free to drop in the comments/reblog your thoughts about it and/or read a bit more about it <33

this is mostly a spoiler-free detail dump of stuff that i have listed out for my reboot:

First stop are the characters. I'll be using the main girls: Bloom, Stella, Musa, Flora, Tecna, and Aisha. All the members of Trix: Icy, Darcy, and Stormy. Also the main guys: Sky, Brandon, Riven, Timmy, and Helia.

I won't be including Nabu here. If I'll be completely honest a part of me does want to include him. But I don't want to overwhelm myself because I'll be using a lot of characters already. This could be subject to change but I don't think it'll happen anytime soon.

All couples in the original cartoon will be initially together here. So a big and fair warning: all the original couples will be breaking up or have broken up in this reboot of mines.

Other characters I will include are: Faragonda, Griffin, and Saladin. (for “volume 2” there will be more familiar characters but I’ll keep them under wraps for now cause I gotta finish volume 1 first hashajhshaja)

The first volume is mostly character-driven. Not much plot, more on vibes and exploring the characters. (I’ve given some changes to the background of a few characters. Like Bloom not getting adopted by Mike and Vanessa, she was assigned from one foster home to another. And Stella’s parents staying divorced but still have a decent relationship with both.)

I'll be starting from scratch. Like I mentioned earlier I have a major reboot in mind so it's a new retelling of the cartoon with familiar characters with new arcs/storyline.

In connection to #3, I do have plans to mix them up. There'll be f/f, m/f, and m/m pairings. There will be a possible poly relationship too. (As much as I have been fond of the familiarity of the original ships when I grew up watching the show, I want to offer a new take for them to give not only a sort of fresh start for these characters but also for the audience - it’s a risk but I’m optimistic about it)

A couple of changes with physical traits. Like Bloom having freckles, Stella’s skin being tanned, Musa’s hair is dyed black, Tecna’s hair being naturally bleached blonde, and Stormy being blasian/black American and Asian.

A couple changes to the characters’ wardrobe. I have customized the outfits that can look good either animated or live action (imo anyways). I used @ummmmandy‘s dress-up game for these looks. Moodboards will be uploaded soon .

I'm gonna hold on to the other details to myself as a sort of ✨surprise factor✨ in the future ahsjahshhaa

#winx club #winx comics #winx club reboot #winx club rewrite #nickelodeon #winx club bloom #winx club stella #winx club musa #winx club flora #winx club tecna #winx club aisha #winx club trix #winx club icy #winx club darcy #winx club stormy #winx club sky #winx club brandon #winx club riven #winx club timmy #winx club helia #winx club faragonda #winx club griffin #winx club saladin #2000s cartoon #rainbow group #summer.txt

[just-some-random-blogger]

!the second part from the modern!daemon nonnie!! the whole thing with the iron ring and the 'valyrian wedding' in this shitty office during the lunch break?? this is the contrast that keeps me alive. like no circumstance (literally) can get in the way of this love? this desperation to have each other no matter what and devotion on the verge of tears are so devastating. and i'm really greatful you didn't make it nsfw. it feels much more like pure adoration and magic (?) even. so spiritual and sincere. i love them speaking high valyrian so much!! it feels more intimate like this, the absolute magical bond. their own world. their special connection. it make me feel feelings. no matter how poor or not these are translated!! i (maybe someone does) don't understand then anyway, but the mere fact of this is more than enough! thank you for the efforts and not giving up!! finally i've got to aemond. seeing pairings for the first time made me scream SO loud. (god bless my neighbors too, it was 21:00 on the holiday) i absolutely believe aemond's (kinda) crush and his pain and frustration after the call and seeing daemon. he's such a pure baby i need to hug him. he deserves better but he chose to have a sympathy for the waiting wife( no but i really feel sorry for him and aegon. they're so lost puppies. i feel the huge urge to explain everything to them and comfort them (and tell daemon 'will you believe me?' while he's frustrated because of this all. this thought made me cry again). and oh! a couple of words about the call. intimate. it felt SO intimate!! all the high valyrian lines and all the pet names. all these sound so desperate and loving. like it physically hurts to not have each other for even a second more. and how the reader started crying right when i did? daemon should've heard it. you make us cry you pretty prick. no but how aemond was worried whe he saw reader crying- (tell me if you're ok with the concept of aemond and aegon falling for daemon's wife and i'll send you some interesting ask-) thank you SOO much for this moodboard!! it's so lovely!! and the fact that you were THIS invested it this work?? thank you so much i'm crying ;) i love you <з you've done a REALLY good job. when i saw the word count- impressing. really impressing. i'm glad you like this concept this much. it's a huge number and i'm just proud of you. and really grateful. for some reason i kept writing fell insted of feel and well MAYBE it's because i fell in love with this fic (i still don't know how you call fics in english TT). no but really. sorry for any mistakes. really hope i've written everything i wanted to bc it's really late.. or is 7 a.m. is early already? nevermind. overall!! this work is a real masterpiece!! it's so fascinating, feels so real and (my main criteria) make readers feel!! your language (like all this parallelism, tropes(??i'm still not sure about this title), just the way you write and so on) is soso good! your characters are so whole and realistic! and the image of the royal family of targaryens? i'm really in love. it's like the first part made me so alive and exited and this one have me in a chokehold breaking my bones. the good feeling. you know. THANK YOU SO MUCH!! *KISSING YOUR SEXY BRAIN A BILLION TIMES* (a lil question about part 3? ok this one felt whole and like i'm gonna explode bc of the emotions and this undying love of their's but you've mentioned it so yes. no pressure. no the smallest intention to make you feel uncomfortable or so. just interested) THANK YOU AGAIN!! you deserve a billion of 'thank u's but it's already too long. so long i hope you've managed to read it all. thank u if you've done so! and thank you for being the genius you are) and thank you for the best fic i've read in my whole life! love you!! take care!! <з

HI AGAIN THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GOING THROUGH ALL THE EFFORT TO SEND NOT 1 BUT 2 ASKS ABOUT YOUR THOUGHTS T_T

heres another long love letter

the whole thing with the iron ring--

i love love love loved the iron ring part. i actually wanted daemon to put it on her and say smth like "pls if you dont marry me and take my mummy's old ring, ten take my much much older ring as a sign you'll be mine because i will fucking die if you aren't mine" but then when i was writing the part i found that daemon was a bit to distraught to really think of anything, so i made reader do the talking.

--and the 'valyrian wedding'--

IM SUCH A SIMP FOR THAT PART I LOVE THAT PART SO MUCH I TYPED THE WHOLE THING WITH THE DASHED VOWELS AND ALL BECAUSE DAMN THOSE VOWS T_T

-- in this shitty office during the lunch break?? this is the contrast that keeps me alive. like no circumstance (literally) can get in the way of this love?

NO BUT LIKE YOU OUTWITTED ME WITH THIS. you're so so right, nothing will ever keep them apart. to be fair T_T AHHAHHAHAHA yn works at a museum T_T so i highly doubt its shitty HAHAHAHH DAMN IF IT IS HELP WTF WHERE THE HELL IS THE MAINTENCANCE OF THAT PLACE GOING TO THE CORRUPTION IS REAL DAEMON SHOULD DO SMTH ABOUT THAT, but no again you're so right i didn't even think of this juxtapostion youre so SO so big brained for that!!!!

this desperation to have each other no matter what and devotion on the verge of tears are so devastating.

and i'm really greatful you didn't make it nsfw. it feels much more like pure adoration and magic (?) even. so spiritual and sincere. i love them speaking high valyrian so much!! it feels more intimate like this, the absolute magical bond. their own world. their special connection. it make me feel feelings. no matter how poor or not these are translated!! i (maybe someone does) don't understand then anyway, but the mere fact of this is more than enough! thank you for the efforts and not giving up!!

lol i had no brain cells to make it nsfw. writing smut it so taxing most times tbh. im glad it appeared like pure adoration and like magic, spiritual and sincere. i love love loved them speaking hig valyrian also. it does feel more intimate with it, an absolute magical bond fr. LOL i hope theyre not poor translation cause they arent really even mine AHAHAHH. thank you for appreciating my efforts to add the language lovie T_T

finally i've got to aemond. seeing pairings for the first time made me scream SO loud. (god bless my neighbors too, it was 21:00 on the holiday)

Ah yes aemond

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SAME i scream because of him too

i absolutely believe aemond's (kinda) crush and his pain and frustration after the call and seeing daemon. he's such a pure baby i need to hug him. he deserves better but he chose to have a sympathy for the waiting wife

same he deserved a hug i love him so much but to be fair, he didn't necesarily feel sympathy for the 'waiting wife' as you put it, but for his professor (and yes) long time crush. i will give you (and anyone who reads this) a spoiler AHHAA aemond met reader as a child (as a substitute teacher) and was absolutely enamoured by her because she was so sweet and kind to him. the reason why aemond likes reader now beyond the fact she is still sweet and kind to him is because she reminds her of that teacher, unwitting of the fact she WAS that teacher HAHAHAHAH

( no but i really feel sorry for him and aegon. they're so lost puppies. i feel the huge urge to explain everything to them and comfort them (and tell daemon 'will you believe me?' while he's frustrated because of this all. this thought made me cry again).

did you actually cry HAHAHAHH i love crying over fics so i dont really feel bad AHHAHAH but yes i also feel sorry for the brothers. they are 100% lost puppies and i want nothing but the best for them but in the grand scheme of things there will only be pain AHHAHHAHHA asking daemon if he will believe yn is a whole other beast though HAHAHAHA

and oh! a couple of words about the call. intimate. it felt SO intimate!! all the high valyrian lines and all the pet names. all these sound so desperate and loving. like it physically hurts to not have each other for even a second more.

i'm so glad you liked the phone call!!!! i honestly felt the desperation in their conversation too when i was rereading it algdkhalghadgh they really just want to be with each other so so so bad. i love the high valyrian lines so much as well as the pet names

and how the reader started crying right when i did? daemon should've heard it. you make us cry you pretty prick. no but how aemond was worried whe he saw reader crying-

HAHAHHAH THE WAY I LAUGHED SO HARD WHEN I READ THAT YOU CRIED AHHAAHAHAHAHAH DESERVE HAHAHAH I SOUNDED LIKE A WITCH LAUGHING HAHAHHAHAH I MEAN DESERVE IN THE NICEST MOST EVILLY AFFECTIONATE WAY POSSIBLE. yes aemond concerned for yn is everything <3

(tell me if you're ok with the concept of aemond and aegon falling for daemon's wife and i'll send you some interesting ask-)

SEND IT SEND IT SEND IT LET US DESTROY THE WORLD

thank you SOO much for this moodboard!! it's so lovely!! and the fact that you were THIS invested it this work?? thank you so much i'm crying ;)

im glad you like my moodboard too!!!!!!!!! i love it so much i make moodboards when im over excited for my stories HAHHAH i told you im lik 99999999% invested in the story

i love you <з you've done a REALLY good job. when i saw the word count- impressing. really impressing. i'm glad you like this concept this much. it's a huge number and i'm just proud of you. and really grateful.

I LOVE YOU

it honestly got so long i thought of cutting the story in half, but i decided against it and just kept my original ideas in like intended

for some reason i kept writing fell insted of feel and well MAYBE it's because i fell in love with this fic (i still don't know how you call fics in english TT). no but really. sorry for any mistakes.

thats fine pls dont worry about it 😭😭😭😭😭 you probably wrote fell because you finished reading the story, thus the emotions are in the past HAHAHAH you can call fic stories or what its short for, fan fiction. dont worry about mistakes im sure i made 100 ones in my reply HAHAHA

really hope i've written everything i wanted to bc it's really late.. or is 7 a.m. is early already? nevermind.

i hope you did too T_T i want to hear about every little thing that went through your mind. aND GO TO SLEEP MY GOSH IF YOU EVER SEND ME AN ASK AT ANOTHER UNGODLY HOUR I WILL GO TO YOUR HOUSE AND MAKE YOU SLEEP

overall!! this work is a real masterpiece!! it's so fascinating, feels so real and (my main criteria) make readers feel!! your language (like all this parallelism, tropes(??i'm still not sure about this title), just the way you write and so on) is soso good! your characters are so whole and realistic!

and the image of the royal family of targaryens? i'm really in love. it's like the first part made me so alive and exited and this one have me in a chokehold breaking my bones. the good feeling. you know.

IM SO GLAD AND HONORED AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THE HIGH REGARD YOU HAVE FOR MY WORK T_T LOVE i love how each part had its own effect on you <3 LOVE THAT FOR ME

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! *KISSING YOUR SEXY BRAIN A BILLION TIMES* (a lil question about part 3? ok this one felt whole and like i'm gonna explode bc of the emotions and this undying love of their's but you've mentioned it so yes. no pressure. no the smallest intention to make you feel uncomfortable or so. just interested)

IM LUV U I WILL DEFINITELY WRITE p3!!!

THANK YOU AGAIN!! you deserve a billion of 'thank u's but it's already too long. so long i hope you've managed to read it all. thank u if you've done so! and thank you for being the genius you are) and thank you for the best fic i've read in my whole life! love you!! take care!! <з

i read it all twice and thank you so much for sending this i love you so much im glad you like my fic T_T

#anon ask #my beloved anons #modern!daemon anon #ask #never before #waiting for a lifetime #modern!daemon

[httpghostface]

i really liked doing the sfw alphabet for my valentines event (maybe spice it up with a lil nsfw here and there if requested) maybe that could be the main part of the 200 event and probably some text posts?

for the birthday events though, i totally want text fics and letters etc etc and from my moots' fave characters (only one though, my brain doesn't work that hard anymore lol) moodboards, what gift did they get you, birthday headcanons, so on and so forth yk?

I do like those ideas you should (if you can) do the headers u used to do with names n stuff for the birthdays those are always very lovely and are super nice

#bunny answers asks #tag later

[sunflowervolvimp3]

42 Hours (II)

Content: part 2 to an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time!! includes a karaoke bar in Cleveland, Ohio, sharing of motel rooms (oh my god there was only one bed 👁️👁️), and a lesbian wedding in the Catskills

Warnings: language, alcohol, NSFW content, making fun of Nebraska and The Notebook

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 32k

A/N: okay can I just say that I am so glad this is finally done. I have been working on this fic for over a month!!! the entire thing is over 51k in length!!!!!! my word doc is almost 100 pages!!!! this was meant to be a fun story about enemies to lovers stuck on a road trip!!!!! what happened!!!! but thank you guys so much for all the love and support and interest in this story <3 I was really nervous about splitting it up (which looking back was a good choice because again. it’s so long.) but you all showed so much love for the story and the characters!!!! I’d like to give a special shout out to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ and miss alex @darthstyles​ for proof reading, and miss andrea again for this pretty header image!! if you’re looking for any good reads after this, I highly recommend checking out their masterlists!! and as always, if you like this fic, please like it AND reblog it!! and shoot me a message about it!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by ALL content creators, and is the main motivation for us to create more for you all to enjoy!!

{masterlist}

{masterlist}

here is everyone’s wedding looks!! and HERE is a lil moodboard of Jo and Laure’s wedding so you can sense the vibes!!

also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!

It’s almost instantaneous, Y/N notices, how quickly and easily she and Harry fall into a rhythm of friendship. From the moment she wakes up the next morning to a blue sky, the storm long passed, and Harry holding out a cup of black coffee for her, the stress and anxiety of the previous day is gone. There’s no watching herself around Harry, biting her tongue to stop herself from snapping over every small motion he makes as he fidgets in the driver’s seat.  There’s no irritation caused by the way he taps his fingers on the steering wheel, or how he asks any question that crosses his mind, speaking out his random chain of thoughts just as often.  

The thing that Y/N’s come to realize is that Harry is so much more interesting than she’d ever thought. He’s certainly more interesting than the endless fields of corn that whip by her window as he drives down the interstate.  His jokes are dumb, but he says them with such a big grin on his face that she can’t help but laugh.  His comments are strange, but Y/N finds herself enjoying the weird words that slip from his mouth without being caught by a filter.

“If we were in a Children of The Corn situation,” Harry begins, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of Simon and Garfunkel. “Do you think you’d be able to outsmart the cult?  Or would you get sacrificed to He Who Walks Behind the Rows?”

Y/N half chokes on the bottle of water she’d just raised to her lips, and coughs the liquid from her lungs as she turns to give Harry an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”

“We’re in Nebraska. That’s where it takes place, right?” Harry asks, glancing at Y/N from behind his sunglasses. “There’s, like, a weird child cult, and they kill all the adults in town for the corn harvest, or something, and then this couple on a road trip discovers them, and tries to stop them.  Do you think you’d be able to?”

“Do I think I’d be able to stop a child cult?  Or would I get sacrificed to their weird corn god?  That’s what you’re asking me?” Although she can’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of the question, her mind is already appraising the situation Harry’s proposed. “I think I’d be able to stop them.  They’re just kids, right?  You just can’t be afraid to—you know—” Y/N drags her thumb across her throat, and Harry quirks up an eyebrow at her casual response.

“You’d kill a bunch of kids?”

“If the kids were evil and wanted to kill me?  Absolutely.” Y/N leans her head back on the head rest, still keeping her eyes locked on Harry. “Wouldn’t you?”

Harry lifts one shoulder in response. “I don’t know.  I’d try to reason with them, I think.”

Y/N extends a finger gun at him, clicking her tongue in sync with the motion. “And that’s why they’d sacrifice you and not me.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head slowly as he turns his attention back to the road. “Lovely. Wouldn’t you try to save me?”

Y/N hums, pretending to think the question over. “That depends on how annoying you’ve been that day.”

“You’re such a sweetheart, Y/N, you really are.” Harry laughs more, but stops abruptly as he spots a sign to the right of the road. “Oh!  There’s a souvenir shop at the next exit!”

A groan falls from Y/N’s mouth as her head flops back, already sensing defeat. “No, Harry, you don’t need another keychain—”

“You don’t know that! Maybe I could get a corn stalk keychain!”

…

“You know, I could drive for a bit.  If you’d like.”

Harry looks up at Y/N with an apprehensive gaze, his nimble fingers halfway through attaching a new silver key chain in the shape of Nebraska to his key ring. “What?”

“You’ve been driving for three days straight.” Y/N leans over the passenger side of the car, resting her arms on the sun-warmed roof. “I could drive.  I know how to; I just don’t do it in L.A. because the traffic is annoying. But the interstate is practically empty, so…”

“Uh, no offense, Y/N, but…” Harry opens the drivers door, a small smile curving the corner of his lip. “No one drives Stevie but me.  And besides, she’s a stick.  Have you ever driven one?”

“Well, no.” Y/N admits, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “But you could show me.”

Harry inhales deeply, glancing around the souvenir shop parking lot.  Y/N can tell he’s surveying the area, searching for a reason to say no, but as far as she can tell, there isn’t one.  There are no other cars around, and the area is mostly flat, giving her a good space to practice driving in.  With a defeated look on his face, Harry exhales sharply and gives a quick nod as he takes a step back from the driver’s side. “Fine.  Get in.”

Y/N and Harry swap sides in the car, although Y/N is much more enthusiastic about it than Harry is. From the moment she climbs in and begins adjusting his seat, a pained look comes over Harry’s face, making her roll her eyes.

“Oh, come on.  You’re a giant, Harry, I have to adjust things so I can reach the pedals.” Y/N scoffs, reaching up to adjust the rear view mirror. “You can put them all back later.”

“Yeah.” Harry sucks in another breath before pushing his sunglasses up into his chestnut curls. “Okay, so…there’s three pedals on the floor.  The right one is gas, the middle is the brake, and the left is the clutch. And then here—” Harry takes Y/N’s right hand and places it over the gear shift. “This is how you shift.  There’s six gears, right?  And their use depends on the speed you’re going, so you’re going to start with one—” His hand squeezes hers as he shifts the gear shift over and up to the left with ease. “Which is here.  Here’s two—” He shifts the gear shift down to the left, and continues to move it as he speaks. “Three.  Four.  Five. And reverse.  Got it?”

“I think so.” Y/N nods, her hand flexing beneath Harry’s large palm.  His rings feel cool against her warm skin, and she has to admit, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. “Up left, down left, up middle, down middle, up right, down right.  Right?”

“Right.” Harry lifts his hand off hers to point towards her feet, which are sitting on the carpet cover in front of the pedals. “You want to start with your foot pressed firmly on the clutch, the one—yeah.  There, to the left.  Keep it pressed there.  Is it pressed there?”

“Since you first told me to press it, yeah.” Y/N furrows her brow in concentration, which is caused both from learning how to drive manually, and the effort it takes to stop herself from laughing at the nervousness in Harry’s voice. “Now what?”

“Take off the parking brake.” Harry pulls the lever down himself, making sure Y/N is focused on her other movements. “And the car is in neutral, so you can turn the key in the ignition.” He holds out his keys towards her.

Y/N takes the cool metal from his hands, quickly finding the right key for the Impala and slipping it in. The car roars to life, a sound which is now familiar to her ears. “Okay.  There.”

“Good.” Harry pauses for a moment before reaching across Y/N’s body and buckling her seatbelt, which she had forgotten in the excitement to drive. “Safety first.” He sits back in the passenger seat, fixing his seatbelt across his own body. “I have a feeling we’ll be needing these.”

“Oh, shut up.” Y/N sticks her tongue out at him, her eyebrows and nose wrinkling as she makes a face. “What do I do now?”

“Now…” Harry fidgets with his seatbelt again as he moves forward in the passenger seat, one hand bracing against the dash as he directs her. “Press the clutch and the brake at the same time, like that.  Now move the gear shift into first gear.”

Y/N does as he says, pushing the gear shift over and up to the left.  It takes much more pressure for her to move it without Harry’s help, she notes, but doesn’t let the effort show on her face. “Then?”

“Take your foot off the brake.” Harry instructs, caution laced through his voice. “And slowly—slowly! —release the clutch as you press down gently on the gas.”

“Okay…” Lifting her left foot first, Y/N does her best to match the motion with her right foot, pressing down at the same pace as she lifts the other.  Her movement, however, isn’t as smooth as she wants it to be, and the car lunges forward in a choppy motion.

“Careful!” Harry says loudly, twisting his body to face Y/N as he continues bracing himself.  His entire body is tense, his shoulders practically up by his ears as he appraises Y/N. “You have to do it at the same time!”

“Alright, alright—” Y/N tries again, focusing on matching her feet to each other.  This time, the movement is smoother, and the car begins to drive forward slowly, moving faster as Y/N presses down more. “Is that—am I doing it?” Y/N asks nervously, navigating herself slowly through the parking lot. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.  You’re doing good, yeah.” Harry nods slowly, but Y/N can see the strain in his jaw from the corner of her eye. “Now let’s try…let’s try shifting gears, so you can speed up.”

“Try not to sound so terrified.” Y/N mutters, turning the wheel to guide the car around a lamp post.

Harry ignores her comment. “You’re going to do the same motion, but this time release the gas while pressing down on the clutch.  Then move the gear shifter to two, like before, and—”

Before Harry can finish speaking, Y/N attempts to change into second gear.  The car lurches again as she releases the gas and presses on the clutch, and the jagged motion only gets worse after she shifts into second.

“Slowly, Y/N—” Agitation is clear in Harry’s voice, and his knuckles turn white as he grips the dash. “Slower!”

Another lunge of the car shifts Y/N to the side, and her foot slips off the clutch completely. With a sickening sound, the car lurches to a stop, despite Y/N’s foot still pressed on the gas.  “What—?”

Harry, who’s been wincing throughout the entire ordeal, sucks in a sharp breath. “You stalled her.” He says, shaking his head with a quiet horror.

Y/N tugs on her bottom lip as she glances at him from the corner of her eye, her voice hesitant. “Is…that bad?”

“Is that—?” Harry’s green irises snap to meet hers, wide open and shocked. “Yeah, it’s bad. That’s enough practice for today, I think.  I’m driving again.”

Y/N tries to protest. “But—”

“Nope!  Out!” Harry shakes his head firmly, unbuckling his seatbelt and exiting the car in one swift motion. “Come on!”

With a defeated sigh, Y/N unbuckles herself, climbing out of the driver’s door that Harry’s just opened for her.  “Sorry.” She mumbles, walking around to the passenger’s side and climbing back in.

Harry gives her a small smile, albeit a pained one, as he begins to move his feet over the brake and clutch, shifting the car into neutral. “It’s fine.  That was pretty good for a first practice, really. Just…maybe it’s too soon for highway driving.”

Y/N buckles her seatbelt as Harry restarts the engine, and within a few minutes, he has his signal flipped back on to head back to the highway. “You know, mostly I wanted to drive so that I could pick the music.” She says casually, resting her chin in her hand after propping it up against the arm rest. “I’m getting a little tired of The Beatles on repeat.”

Harry laughs, raking his hand through his curls before shifting gears with ease. “Oh really?  What would you put on, if you had a choice?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shrugs, taking a moment to think. “We could listen to a nice sonata, maybe. Oh!  Or Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake.  I haven’t listened to it in full in a while.”

A sound of surprise and indignation leaves Harry’s mouth. “Tchaikovsky—?  No!  No, you can’t listen to classical music on a road trip!  You need music that you can scream the lyrics to!”

“Is there a rulebook about what you can and can’t listen to on a road trip?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she poses the sarcastic question. “I wasn’t aware.”

“There’s an unofficial rulebook, yes.” Harry risks a glance over at Y/N, his green eyes alight. “And one of the most important—if not the most important—rules is that any song you listen to has to be able to be sung loudly while driving down a highway. Everyone knows that.”

“My bad.” Y/N says sarcastically, toeing off her shoes to better cross her legs beneath herself. “So, in short, we’re stuck listening to your playlist, huh?”

“Now you get it.” Harry shoots her a cheeky grin, pointing with his free hand. “You can change the song, though.  If you’d like.”

“Really?” Y/N reaches down to the small catch all tray between them, where Harry’s phone sits connected to a car charger.  She picks it up carefully, raising an eyebrow in question. “May I?”

When Harry nods, Y/N clicks on the screen, which displays the controls to the Spotify playlist currently being projected through the car’s speakers.  Unsurprisingly, a Beatles song is moving across the scene, causing Y/N to press the skip button immediately.  The next song is by The Killers, called “Spaceman,” and while she likes it, it’s not really something she feels like listening to in the moment. She hits skip again, passing over “Night Moves,” “Piano Man,” and “Seven Wonders,” (the last skip earning a sound of protest from Harry) before a familiar album cover pops up on the screen.

“Hold on.” Y/N says, mouth agape as the 1990s Vocoder sound fills the car. “You listen to Cher?”

“Are you kidding?” Harry’s surprised expression matches hers. “Of course!  She’s a treasure.” He taps his fingers to the beat of “Believe” while his head bops to the same pattern. “I love this song.  It’s a good one.”

Making a sound of agreement, Y/N lets her gaze drift to the window, watching the agriculture fields that whiz by. “Yeah.” She murmurs, losing herself in the beat. “‘No matter how hard I try…you keep pushing me aside’…”

“‘And I can’t break through’…” Harry’s voice joins with hers, louder and surer of himself than hers had been. “‘There’s no talking to you’…”

Y/N’s head turns from the window, locking eyes with Harry for the split second he looks away from the road ahead of them. “‘It’s so sad that you’re leaving…it takes time to believe it’…”

“‘But after all is said and done’…” The grin playing on Harry’s pink lips grows, popping out his dimples as he continues to sing. “‘You’re gonna be the lonely one’…”

With a grin pasted across her own face, so big that her cheeks ache, Y/N joins Harry for the chorus, yelling the lyrics more than singing them. “‘Do you believe in life after love?  I can feel something inside me say…I really don’t think you’re strong enough’!” Harry’s hand drifts down to the volume dial, turning the music up until the bass thumps through the entire car.  Y/N can feel it in her chest like a second heart beat.

“‘Do you believe in life after love?’” Encouraged by each other, Harry and Y/N scream the lyrics even louder on the repeat, straining their necks as much as their vocal cords. “‘I can feel something inside me say…I really don’t think you’re strong enough’!”

When Harry’s hand moves again, Y/N thinks that he’s reaching for the dial again, perhaps to turn it down, but then his hand makes a questioning motion, and Y/N realizes that Harry, ever the one for dramatics, is acting out the lines.

“‘What was I supposed to do?  Sit around and wait for you?’” Harry points at Y/N then, an exaggerated look on his face as his whole body moves to the beat. “‘Well I can’t do that!  And there’s no turning back’…”

Not wanting to be one upped, Y/N pushes up the sleeve of her sweater, exposing her wrist enough that she can tap on it. “‘I need time to move on’…” A fit of giggles interrupt the next line as she and Harry both raise their arms to flex their muscles. “‘I need a love to feel strong’…” Y/N taps on her temple as she sways her body to the beat the best she can in the car. “‘Because I’ve got time to think it through’…” When she turns to point at Harry, she finds him already pointing at her, once again in sync with her thoughts. “‘And maybe I’m too good for you, oh’!”

They repeat the chorus in the same way as before, screaming the lyrics as loud as they can, pulling dramatic facial expressions and dance moves to match.  Halfway through the repeat, Harry attempts to mimic the classic Cher move of pushing hair over the shoulder, and the ridiculous sight is enough to send Y/N into another fit of laughter.  She almost misses the entrance for the bridge, but recovers just in time to yell the lyrics in sync with Harry.

Forming fists and dragging her arms towards her dramatically, and Harry doing the same with his free hand, the two of them screw their faces up as they sing passionately. “‘Well I know that I’ll get through this…because I know that I am strong’…” The flexing of arms returns for a moment before being replaced by impassioned pleading hand gestures. “‘I don’t need you anymore…I don’t need you anymore…no, I don’t need you anymore…no, I don’t need you anymore’…”

Although they’d been energetic in the previous choruses, Harry and Y/N give their all for the final chorus, bouncing and yelling and gesturing as much as they can as they drive down the interstate at sixty-five miles per hour.  They quiet for a moment as the beat falls out, singing the lyrics at a slightly lower volume, but when the beat returns, they scream the lyrics one final time in unison before the music fades out.

The song changes to “Baby Driver,” and Harry reaches to lower the volume as he and Y/N both struggle to catch their breath.  They laugh between pants, hands on chests as they rapidly rise and fall.  Y/N lets her head fall back against the back of the seat, shifting her legs so only one rests on the seat beneath her thigh.

“That was a good one.” She admits, pushing her now-sweaty hair out of her face. “I’ll give you that. Cher was a good choice.”

“Do you see what I meant, now?” Harry asks breathlessly, his grin still plastered to his face. “Do you still want to listen to Tchaikovsky?”

In lieu of a reply, Y/N reaches for Harry’s phone again, skipping songs until “Jessie’s Girl” begins to drift through the speakers. “Turn it up again, Harry.”

There’s a twinkle in Harry’s eyes when he does as she says.

…

“I can sleep on the floor.” Harry volunteers, tugging his hand through his stretched out curls as his eyes scan the interior of the motel room. “Make a little bed out of pillows.  Then you can have the bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry.” Y/N shakes her head adamantly, setting her bag on the small table in front of the room’s mirror. “You can’t sleep on the floor!”

Harry purses his lips. “I’ll take the chair, then.  I can stretch out on it—”

“Please, you have limbs like Gumby.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N unzips her bag and pulls out her toiletries. “You can’t sleep comfortably in a chair.  We can deal with one bed for one night.  It’s not the end of the world.”

Four days ago, Y/N might have considered having to share a bed with Harry the end of the world.  If someone had told her about the lack of available motel rooms on the road, Y/N might have never left L.A.  And that first night in Utah, she remembers, she would have rather smother Harry in his sleep than share a bed with him.  Now, however, they’re in Iowa City, and for all her talk of how much she despised Harry before, she’s found herself quite fond of him in a short period of time.

There’s a list of reasons why that’s happened, she thinks, as she pulls out her charger to plug into the wall.  Their forced close proximity in the car and motel rooms probably has something to do with it, as well as Harry being her only company for the last four days.  And maybe, just maybe, a small part of it is due to the way Harry looks in the dim motel room light as he flops back on the bed, his red and black striped t-shirt riding up just the slightest bit to expose the fern tattoos lining the bottom of his stomach.  The way his jade irises manage to sparkle in the light of the lamp, or how his chipped nail polish still manages to look elegant as his fingers dance along his chest and twist his rings over his knuckles.  The way his lips, despite his constant habit of biting them, look so soft and so pink, and how Y/N thinks she could just—

Y/N clears her throat, stopping her thoughts in their tracks.  It’s really been too long since she’s been around another human being, she thinks, keeping her back to Harry as she roots through her suitcase for her pajamas. Four days is too long for her to be with the same person, with hardly any alone time, and she’s wondering if she’ll be able to have alone time any time soon when her fingers brush over the familiar smooth silicone surface of her vibrator.

Y/N pauses, pulling her fingers back as if she’s been burned.  Right.  She’d tossed that in there just before leaving L.A., just in case she needed some stress relief.  Glancing back over her shoulder subtly, Y/N sees that Harry has his phone out now, his nimble fingers tapping along the screen as he lays on the bed.  Maybe some stress relief is exactly what she needs.

Grabbing the first articles of clothing she can get her hands on, Y/N carefully wraps her vibrator within the fabric, trying to fold it so that it doesn’t look like its hiding a small purple sex toy.  Once that’s done to the best of her ability, she grabs her toiletry bag, tucking it under her arm as she quickly makes her way to the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower.” She mutters, closing the door behind her without waiting for Harry’s response.

Although the ritual of stripping from her clothes, starting the shower and adjusting the temperature settings, and relaxing her muscles underneath the (albeit low pressure) stream of water is familiar, it takes Y/N a few minutes to work up the courage to run her hands down the length of her body.  She takes her time as her fingers dance over the planes of her breasts, down her stomach, fluttering over her hips before making their way to the crevice where her thighs flow into her core.  Taking a deep breath, Y/N begins with just her fingers, running them through her wet folds slowly and carefully.

She allows herself the time to warm herself up, waiting until she can dip her index finger inside her slick entrance and circle its way around her clit before grabbing her vibrator from the shower ledge.  She flicks it on to its lowest setting, making sure the electronic buzz is hidden beneath the sound of the shower before gently circling the tip around her clit.

The relief, Y/N finds, is instantaneous.  A breathless sigh slips past her lips as she rubs the toy over her folds, delighting in the fluttering sensation it leaves behind.  Without breaking contact, Y/N turns the toy up a level, biting her lip to keep from moaning as she presses it back to her clit.

Despite the tension building up in her body as Y/N works herself to an orgasm, this is the most relaxed she’s felt in days.  The tension, she finds, is so much sweeter than the anxiety and stress she’s been experiencing throughout the road trip.  Although her shoulders tense, it’s different than the knots worked into her muscles from hours in the car.  Although her leg feels as though it may cramp from its position perched on the bath tub ledge, the burn is more welcome than the ache of being stuck in one seated position.

If someone were to ask her what crossed her mind when Y/N brought herself over the edge, what thoughts drifted into her head as she gripped the wall of the shower with one hand as her core convulsed in the most delightfully sinful way, Y/N would tell them that it was nothing specific.  Strong hands, she’d say, smoothly and knowledgeably caressing her body.  A low voice whispering dirty nothings in her ear. A deep breath flowing down her neck as cherry lips and white teeth nipped and kissed down her skin and across her collar bones.  Nothing specific.  And Y/N would believe it when she’d say it.

But if anyone were to be listening at the exact moment that she thrust the vibrator inside her, panting and whimpering as her index and middle finger worked over her clit and brought her to climax, they’d hear the breathless whisper of a name that Y/N herself didn’t even know she was saying.

The nice thing about getting off in the shower, Y/N thinks, once she’s regained enough function in her head to do so, is that cleanup is a breeze.  Within fifteen more minutes, Y/N’s washed her body, shampooed and conditioned her hair, and is climbing out of the shower with the motel towel wrapped tightly around her body.  Within another few minutes, she’s towel dried to the best of her ability, and finally realizing that the pajamas she’d grabbed in her quick bid for the washroom happened to be the pink silk set that she’d tucked at the bottom of her suitcase four days ago.

Cheeks burning, Y/N weighs her options.  She could wrap the towel around herself, she thinks, and instruct Harry to look away as she snuck back to her suitcase and grabbed the sports bra and boxers she’d been sleeping in for the past few nights.  Or…she runs her fingers over the lace trim of the set.  These pajamas were quite comfortable, and the silk would feel so nice on her body after multiple nights of scratching motel sheets.  And, if she’s being honest with herself, her other pajamas are quite dirty from a new nights of use.  Now that her body feels completely relaxed and clean, she’d like to put on something to match.

When she steps out of the bathroom, Y/N does her best to seem casual and calm, still running her towel through her set hair, her clothes and toiletry bag (where she’s hidden her vibrator) tucked under one arm. “The shower’s free.” She says to Harry, barely glancing at him as she returns her items to her bag. “Although the water pressure is pretty shit.”

A low chuckle echoes from Harry’s mouth. “I expect nothing less.” He says, and Y/N thinks she may be in the clear when the laughter stops abruptly.

Biting back a sigh, Y/N straightens her back, knowing that she can’t avoid the conversation forever. “What?” She asks, tossing her towel on the motel room chair.

Harry is sitting up on the bed, his phone still held loosely in his right hand as his left props his body into an upright position.  As his eyes scan over Y/N’s body, his tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his lips without Harry being aware he’s doing it. “What—” His voice cracks, and a flush creeps up Harry’s pale neck as he clears his throat. “What are you wearing?”

Y/N begins to comb her fingers through her hair, sectioning it off before she begins to braid. “Pajamas.”

A scoff leaves Harry’s mouth. “No, no, those aren’t pajamas.  That’s…lingerie.”

“Yeah, well…I brought them as pajamas.” Y/N mumbles, twisting her hair into the desired pattern before tying it off with the ponytail on her wrist. “Look, I—my other ones are dirty, and I didn’t want to put a sweaty sports bra back on right after showering.  But…if it makes you uncomfortable, then I can—”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Harry cuts over her, giving a quick shake of his head. “I just—we’re sharing the bed tonight, so I wasn’t sure—as long as you’re comfortable—”

“I am.” Y/N says quickly, cheeks beginning to burn as the conversation continues. “I’m comfortable.”

“Alright then.” If Harry’s cheeks are any indication, then he’s feeling the same thing Y/N is. “I’m…going to shower, then.”

And that’s how, two hours later, after watching a rerun of When Harry Met Sally, Y/N ends up in bed next to Harry Styles in lingerie that she’d bought to impress her ex-boyfriend.

Harry, to his credit, is doing his best to draw a line between them.  His lanky body is practically hanging off the edge of the bed with how far he’s pulled himself from her, his defined back turned towards Y/N. Her own posture mimics his, back turned from Harry, clinging to the edge of the bed in an attempt to respect his personal space.  The problem, Y/N thinks, exhaling hard as she shifts under the covers, is that she doesn’t like sleeping on her side like this, and she especially doesn’t like tensing up to make sure her limbs stay in their designated zone.  It feels awkward and uncomfortable, and after laying in bed for over an hour, she finally huffs before turning onto her back, her hands settling down over the sheets.

“Harry.” She whispers, twisting her head to the side as she struggles to make out the shape of his body in the dark. “Are you awake?”

The bed creaks as Harry’s body shifts towards her, twisting on his hip to be able to meet Y/N’s eyes. “Yeah.  Can’t sleep.”

“Me either.” Y/N rolls over again, propping herself up on her side to face him as he matches the motion. They’re closer now, their faces about six inches away as they rest their heads on their pillows.  Y/N can smell the mint of Harry’s toothpaste on his breath. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Harry shrugs one shoulder as best he can while horizontal. “Dunno.” He mumbles, voice low in the quiet darkness. “Don’t think I’m used to sharing a bed with someone and not…being close to them.”

“Yeah.” Y/N matches the tone of her voice to his, as if speaking quietly and gently will preserve whatever it is hanging between them. “Feels weird.”

Moving his hands from his chest to tuck them under his pillow, Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, a nervous look apparent in his eyes even in the darkness. “Would it be okay if I moved closer?” He asks, caution written into every word. “It’s just—staying on the edge isn’t very comfortable.”

Four days ago, Y/N would have shoved him off the bed.  Now, however, she finds herself nodding, pulling her top leg into a bent position, her bare knee brushing over Harry’s beneath the sheets. “That’s fine.”

Y/N watches the way Harry’s body visibly relaxes, the tension she didn’t even know he had leaving his body.  Trying his best to move without disturbing her, Harry turns over to lay on his toned stomach, and the sheets pull down around his body enough that Y/N can see how his Rolling Stones t-shirt has ridden up his back.  Without thinking, Y/N pulls one hand from beneath her pillow and reaches for the sheets, pulling them back around Harry to his mid back.

“Thanks.” His voice is raspy, half muffled by the pillow as he tucks his hands beneath his head, eyes still locked with hers with an intensity that, during daylight hours, would have made her cheeks burn.

But in the safety of the darkness, Y/N simply returns her hand to its previous position, allowing the lack of light to masquerade the concern written onto her face. “You’re welcome.”

…

“I’m not saying The Notebook is a bad movie, I’m just saying that it doesn’t make sense!”

Harry gives Y/N an incredulous look as he flips on his turn signal, shifting gears in the car so he can exit the highway and head towards a gas station. “What do you mean, it doesn’t make sense?” He demands, turning the car over the curve of the road. “They’re in love!  Noah reads to Ally to help her remember that!  What about that doesn’t make sense?”

“Well, the dialogue for one.” Y/N shrugs, tapping her fingers to the beat of “Heroes” that’s drifting through the speakers.

Harry scoffs as he pulls into an empty gas station, slowing the car to a gentle stop in front of a pump. “Give me one example of the dialogue not making sense!”

“‘If you’re a bird, I’m a bird’?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she quotes the movie. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“What do you mean, what does it mean?” Harry demands, shifting the car into neutral and pulling the emergency brake before turning off the ignition. “It’s romantic!  It’s talking about—about reincarnation, and past lives—”

“And what about how Noah and Ally first met, huh?  She was on a date with someone else!  She wasn’t interested in him!” As she rants, Y/N’s volume grows, almost drowning out David Bowie completely. “And then he climbed up a Ferris wheel, demanded that she go out with him, and said that if she didn’t, he was going to kill himself!”

Harry points an accusatory finger at her, his expression fierce. “Don’t!  It was romantic—”

Y/N pushes his finger away, holding her stance adamantly. “It was creepy!  And don’t even get me started on the arguments, and the lying, and—and she was engaged to someone else!  Noah was a homewrecker!”

Harry takes a deep breath, squeezing his keys in his hand as his eyes close for a moment. “I’m going to fill Stevie with petrol.” He says, his tone careful and controlled. “And when I get back, I am going to give you a very long lecture on why you’re wrong.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she grabs Harry’s sunglasses from the cupholder next to her, slipping them onto her face as she sticks her tongue out at him. “Whatever.  Go pump the gas, Styles.”

With one last withering look, Harry climbs out of the car and slams the door behind him, turning his attention to the rusted gas pump in the middle of nowhere along the Illinois interstate.  Y/N can’t help but laugh at the irritated look on his face, and how he flips her the bird when he catches her laughing.  Small giggles still roll through her as she turns her attention to Harry’s phone, choosing a new song as David Bowie slowly begins to fade out. She’s just begun scrolling through her options when her own phone begins to vibrate from where she has it tucked underneath her leg.

Y/N sets Harry’s phone back down on his seat as she grabs her own, her eyes widening when she sees Brant’s name lighting up her screen.  She should answer, she thinks, as she hasn’t spoken to him in person since their conversation in Colorado.  That conversation seems like a lifetime ago, and Y/N’s thumb hovers over the “accept” icon, her teeth tugging her bottom lip over and over.  She should answer.  She should.  Brant will probably want to discuss work, and find out when she’s coming back so they can plan another dinner, because he always likes to schedule things at least a week in advance.  He’ll tell her about his coworkers, what the weather in L.A. has been like (as if it ever changes), and maybe, just maybe, if he has time, he’ll tell her about a new Netflix series he’s just starting to watch.  Y/N should answer.

The driver’s side door opens with a creak, and Harry bends down to poke his head inside. “Alright, I’m going to go inside the petrol station and get us some snacks, and then I’m going to explain to you exactly how wrong you are.” He says firmly, mouth pressed into a flat line of determination.  His expression falters for just a moment as he sees the conflicted look on Y/N’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Y/N says quickly, pressing “ignore” and tucking her phone back under her leg. “Just go get the snacks while I create my counterargument, alright?”

Harry rolls his eyes, reaching into the car and pulling his sunglasses off Y/N’s face.  He slips them over his own eyes, his expression back to its determined look. “Fine.  Do you want Cheezies?”

“Uh huh.  The crunchy ones!” Y/N reminds him, grabbing his phone from the seat again to continue selecting a new song.

“Right.  The crunchy ones.” Harry shoots her a finger gun as he shuts the car door. “You can eat them as I prove you wrong!”

“You wish!” Y/N yells back, the phone call all but forgotten as she watches Harry walk into the gas station.

…

“We should go out tonight.”

Y/N sets her duffel bag on the queen-sized bed situated in the center of the motel room, giving Harry a confused look as she registers his words. “Go out?” She asks, tugging on the zipper of the bag. “Go out where?”

“To a bar.” Harry flops down on the bed next to her bag, leaning back on his elbows as he speaks. “All we’ve done this entire trip is drive, and we’re getting to the Catskills tomorrow.  We can have a bit of fun tonight, can’t we?”

Y/N snorts as she rifles through her bag, pulling out her phone charger and favourite book. “It’s a road trip; driving is the point, isn’t it?  Besides, what kind of bars are in Cleveland, Ohio?”

Harry shrugs lightly. “We passed a sign for one on our way into town.  And we haven’t had dinner yet, so we should go get something to eat anyways.  And I haven’t had a pint in forever.”

“I doubt you’ll like the pints from a dive bar in Cleveland, Harry.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she plugs her charger into the wall. “I don’t think they’ll be up to your standards.”

“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?” Harry matches her eye roll with ease before turning his expression into something more endearing. “Please?  We don’t have to stay too long if you don’t want to!”

Y/N sighs as she sits down on the bed next to him. “Harry—”

“Just one drink!” Harry pleads, pouting out his bottom lip. “Please?  To celebrate not killing each other on this trip?”

In spite of herself, a small laugh falls from Y/N’s mouth. “The trip’s not over yet, Harry.  Don’t count your eggs before they hatch.”

“Y/N…” Harry whines, turning onto his side as he looks up at her. “Come on!”

Y/N tugs her lip between her teeth as she looks down at Harry.  It’s true, she thinks, that all they’ve done for the last five days is drive and sleep in motels.  Maybe they could use a break before tomorrow’s final day.  And they’ve been getting along so well today that Y/N would hate to put a damper on their moods now…

“Fine.” She relents, ignoring how there’s a turning feeling in her stomach when she sees Harry’s green eyes light up. “But just one drink!”

…

“I’ll take another Old Fashioned, please!” Y/N says to the waitress, raising her voice to be heard over the man singing a bad cover of “Take on Me” on the small bar stage. “And—Harry, do you want another?”

Harry bites back a laugh, barely managing to cover it with a cough as the waitress turns to him. “Uh, yes, please.” He smiles charmingly, flashing his eyes to Y/N between his words. “I’ll have another pint.”

With a quick nod, the waitress begins to work her way from their table to the bar, pushing through the crowds of people scattered around the bar.  

Y/N leans over to Harry as she twirls her straw through the remnants of ice in her empty glass. “You picked a good bar!” She says loudly, gesturing to the people around them. “Who knew this would be the center of Cleveland’s drinking scene?”

“I did!  I have good taste!” Harry replies with a laugh, lifting his pint glass to his lips to drain the remnants. “And here I was, thinking that you’d be whining to go home after the first drink!”

There’s something about the way Harry says “home” that turns Y/N’s stomach.  Or maybe it’s the Old Fashioneds, she thinks, as she eyes the three empty glasses sitting in front of her. “Oh.  Yeah.  Maybe we should go…?”

Harry groans, waving off her suggestion without a second thought. “No!  We’re having fun!  When was the last time you went out?”

“Uh…” The alcohol makes it hard for Y/N to think back in her memory, but she does her best to focus for a few moments to search for the answer. “I think…a few months ago?  Jo came to visit, and we went out for drinks…”

“That’s just sad.” Harry shakes his head, feigning disappointment.  Or maybe not feigning it, Y/N thinks, because a deep sigh leaves his lips right after. “You live in L.A., a place with so much culture and so many opportunities, and you don’t take them!”

“I take opportunities just fine!” Y/N defends herself, a pout working its way onto her lips of its own volition. “I’m just busy—”

“You’re always going to be busy!” Harry argues as the waitress approaches them with their drinks. “You—thank you—” He says to her as she hands him his pint and Y/N her Old Fashioned. “You have to take time for yourself, to enjoy things!  Or else life is just going to pass you by, and soon you’ll be old and grey in your apartment, with no cool stories to tell!”

Y/N takes the straw from her previous drink and slips it in her new one. “I have stories!” She argues hotly, a flush coming over her face from both the alcohol and the argument. “I have plenty of stories!”

Harry takes a gulp from his pint, wiping away the drop of beer that drips from the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah?  Tell me one.”

“Like—” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “Like now!  The story of how I had to go on a road trip with a guy I hated to make it to my best friend’s wedding on time!”

“I’m not really a fan of that title, honestly.” Harry purses his lips, his brow furrowing as he sets his pint back down on the table. “How about we call it the story of how you had to go on a road trip with a guy you hated to make it to your best friend’s wedding on time, and along the way, you and the guy actually realized that you got along pretty well, and became friends?”

A small smile plays on Y/N’s lips, and she raises her glass towards Harry. “Sounds like a plan.” She says softly, barely audible over the noise of the crowd.  Harry lifts his pint glass and clicks it against her drink.

They both take a sip of their drinks, and when Harry lowers his glass, there’s a mischievous glint in his eye that immediately makes Y/N uneasy. “I have another idea for a story.” He says, setting his glass down and pointing towards the stage. “How about the story of us singing karaoke at a bar in Cleveland, Ohio?”

Y/N snorts, half folding herself over their table as the snort turns into a full laugh. “Not a chance in hell, Styles!” She says through her laughter, tapping her fingers against the wood table top.

Harry pushes her shoulder, making her sit up again as he tries to convince her. “Come on!  We’ve been singing in the car for two days straight! There’s tons of songs we could do—”

“The car is completely different than a stage!” Y/N argues, shaking her head firmly. “No way!”

“What, are you worried about making a fool of yourself?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he gestures around the bar. “Is there anyone you know in the audience?  The audience that’s full of people who are pissed out of their minds?”

Biting her lip hard for a moment, Y/N gives a reluctant shake of her head. “No.” She mumbles, looking down. “But I just—I don’t sing karaoke.”

“And you didn’t spend five days in the car with me, either.  Until you did, and we had fun.” Harry points a ringed pointer finger at her, and the annoying glint in his eye means he knows he has her trapped. “There is literally no better place to try it than right now, in this bar, where you know no one.”

Y/N glances around the bar, appraising her surroundings.  She knows Harry has a point; besides himself, she knows not a single soul in the building.  They’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, and she won’t ever find herself in this bar—or, honestly, Cleveland, Ohio—again.  If there was ever a time to try karaoke, it would be now.  

And hasn’t this trip been full of trying new things?  New foods, new conversations, new ways of thinking…Y/N finds herself locking eyes with Harry, losing herself in his intense gaze.  Y/N’s not sure what’s swirling around in his irises, whether it’s alcohol or something else entirely, but it’s intoxicating.

Y/N lets out a harsh exhale, pulling the straw out of her drink and downing it entirely in one swift motion. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand as she slams the glass back on the table before looking back at Harry to find a new grin pasted across his pink lips.

“Alright.” Y/N slips off her stool, stumbling for just a moment until Harry catches her elbow. “You go pick the song.” She says, pointing towards the DJ near the stage. “I-I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

Harry nods, catching his lip between his teeth as his hand squeezes her arm. “Are you alright?  You stumbled there—”

“I’m fine!  Perfect, actually.” Y/N assures him, pulling away and walking towards the washroom.  She calls over her shoulder to him as she does. “Go pick the song!  I’ll be back in a moment!”

When Y/N reaches the washroom, she’s surprised to find it empty, and she’s even more surprised when she catches her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Is that really her? She wonders, propping herself up on the counter as she leans closer to examine herself.  Her skin is flushed from the alcohol, all across her cheeks and neck, and it only gets warmer as the heat of the bar finally hits her. Y/N undoes the top few buttons of her plaid shirt, exposing her chest to the air.  Cocking her head to the side, Y/N studies herself for a moment before undoing the rest of the buttons and rolling up the sleeves to wear the shirt like a cardigan, leaving her bralette exposed.  It’s a different look than anything she’s ever done, but…she likes it, she realizes, as her eyes scan over her reflection.  She likes this.  Being somewhere that no one knows her, somewhere filled with people that won’t judge her for drinking too much, somewhere that she doesn’t have to worry about stories getting back to her work.  Y/N likes the wild look in her eyes, the breathlessness stirring inside her, the plumpness of her lips from the ice of her drinks.   When she looks at herself, she sees a different person. Someone she doesn’t recognize. Someone who seems to know what they want.

Her phone vibrating in her back pocket pulls her from her thoughts, and it takes Y/N a moment for her intoxicated self to manage to pull it out.  When she sees Brant’s name flashing on the screen, she only hesitates for one second before hitting decline.  That one second of hesitation, however, is all it takes to make her contemplate herself in the mirror again, second guessing what she sees.  She tucks her phone away before washing her hands, and splashes a little bit of cold water on her cheeks to help cool herself down. Giving herself one last look over, Y/N buttons the few bottom buttons of her shirt back together, tying it into a neat knot to cover her stomach.  Even if no one here knows her…she can’t get too wild.  She still has to be who she is.

After exiting the bathroom, Y/N returns to the table, expecting Harry to be waiting there for her. All she finds, however, is his jacket tossed over the back of his chair, and his now empty pint glass sitting on the table. Y/N turns in a small circle, wondering where he is in the crowd when she hears his slightly slurred voice magnified over the speakers.

“Y/N.  Up here, love, c’mon.”

Y/N turns towards the stage, her eyes wide as she realizes Harry has a microphone in one hand and has the other hand wrapped around the microphone stand.  His smile is practically glowing underneath the stage lights, and his eyes seem to be doing the same.  He releases the mic stand to run a hand through his hair before beckoning her forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Cleveland, this—” Harry points towards Y/N, and she almost swears that every person in the bar turns towards her. “This is my very good friend Y/N. And five days ago, she hated my guts!” The crowd boos, and Y/N stares at Harry with incredulous eyes.  What is he doing?

“No, no, don’t boo, it’s alright.  I hated her guts too.” Harry says with a shrug, leaning against the mic stand again. “But everything’s alright now!  We’re getting along, she’s stopped being such a control freak, and she even said she would let me pick a song for us to sing tonight, isn’t that nice?”

The crowd cheers as Y/N walks towards the stage, stopping just before it to stare up at Harry as he continues his drunken monologue.  If she was sober, she’d probably pull him down from the stage, grab the front of his patterned button down shirt, and drag him back to their table.  But the alcohol running through her system is making her bold, and with her head swimming in the amber liquid she’d been consuming, all she can do is laugh and stumble her way to the stairs to the stage.

Someone wearing a t-shirt with the bar’s logo on it helps her up the stairs, handing her a microphone once she makes it onto the stage.  Harry, realizing she’s where she needs to be now, motions to the DJ behind her, and a familiar beat that Y/N can’t place begins to play.

“Harry—” Y/N speaks without raising the microphone to her lips. “What song—?”

“Don’t worry, you know it.” Harry assures her, his eyes flickering over her appearance quickly. “You look great.  Just go with it!”

There’s really no choice but to go with it, she thinks, because within a moment, Harry has a simpering smile on his face as he lifts the microphone to his lips, his body turned towards the audience but his eyes flickering to you.

“‘I wasn’t jealous before we met…now every man I see is a potential threat’.” He sings in a confident voice, and Y/N watches the split second it takes for the crowd to realize he’s actually good.  And it’s not just his voice, she thinks.  It’s his demeanor.  The part of Harry’s personality that had first irritated her, the part that lives for a spotlight, the part that can draw someone in with a snap of a finger…that part shines on a stage.

In contrast, all Y/N can do is stare with a shocked expression painted across her face as Harry continues to serenade the crowd.  He makes eye contact with specific people as he croons the next lines, his hand confidently wrapped around the microphone “‘And I’m possessive, it isn’t nice…you’ve heard me say that smoking is my only voice’.”

It’s then that Harry’s attention turns back to Y/N, his eyelids hooded, half hiding his emerald eyes as he saunters back towards her.  It’s like a switch has flipped in his head, because Y/N is certain that he’s never looked at her in this way before. “‘But now it isn’t true…now everything is new’…” The closer Harry gets to her, the less Y/N can breathe. By the time he’s a foot away from her, she feels like her breaths are stuttering in her chest, giving barely enough oxygen to her body to keep her going.  

Harry, it seems, is unaware of the affect he’s having on her.  His long limbs are loose and free as he continues to move closer, the smirk on his face intertwined with something deeper that Y/N’s drunken mind can’t quite put her finger on. “‘And all I’ve learned, has overturned…I beg of you’…”

The scent of cologne, alcohol, and sweat that emanates from Harry as he gets close enough to press his forehead to hers reminds Y/N exactly where she is, and what she’s supposed to be doing.  Just managing to bring the microphone to her lips in time, Y/N shoves Harry on his shoulder, pushing him away enough that she can walk past him and distance herself. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion’…” She sings, glancing at him over her shoulder as she moves away.  Harry watches her with darkened eyes, a hungry look on his face as Y/N begins to sway her hips to the music.  It’s fun, she realizes, being on stage like this, and playing the part with Harry as she sets down a challenge. “‘Lay all your love on me’.”

The crowd cheers as Harry begins to take measured steps towards Y/N again, looking like the cat who wants to catch the canary.  Y/N, ever the competitive player, refuses to give in so easily, and quickly extends a hand to two people sitting in front of the stage.  They give her support as she slides down from the platform, working her way through the tables without so much as a glance behind herself at Harry, who she knows is following her.

“‘It was like shooting a sitting duck…a little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck’.” Y/N finally turns around, pausing her walk to see Harry hopping down from the stage. She points at him slowly, giving a small shake of her head as she sings the next line. “‘I still don’t know what you’ve done to me…a grownup woman should never fall so easily’…”

Harry’s smirk only grows, and he runs a hand haphazardly through his sweaty curls.  He’s enjoying playing the part too, and Y/N can tell by the way he allows her to cross the seating area, so that they’re walking parallel to each other towards the bar.  He’s not chasing her down.  He’s taking his time, knowing that he’ll get her in the end.

“‘I feel a kind of fear…when I don’t have you near’…” Y/N pauses at a table of two men and a woman, leaning down between the latter two.  She only takes her eyes off Harry for a moment to give a questioning look to the man, who gives her a smile of permission.  Y/N runs her fingers across his shoulder and down his arm, but keeps her eyes glued to Harry the entire time. “‘Unsatisfied, I skip my pride…I beg you dear’…”

When he sees Y/N’s fingers trace down the collar of someone else, Harry’s brow furrows in jealousy, his jade eyes shifting even darker than they were before.  He keeps pace with Y/N as she begins to move again, but there’s an air of tension in his saunter that wasn’t there a moment ago.  When he sings, it sounds like half plea, half demand. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’.” Harry rounds a table of people before beginning to close the distance between him and Y/N, each of them now standing in front of the bar.  With the tension between them now palpable, the crowd is moving out of their way discreetly, watching as the two approach each other. Harry licks his red lips before singing the next line. “‘Don’t go sharing your devotion…lay all your love on me’.”

Y/N releases her bottom lip from between her teeth, running her fingers over the finished wood of the bar before pulling herself to sit atop it.  She crosses her legs carefully before leaning her weight on one hand, giving a small shrug, knowing that Harry’s eyes are glued to her every motion as the bartender pours him a shot. “‘I’ve had a few little love affairs…they didn’t last very long and they’ve been pretty scarce’…”

Harry’s lips wrap around the shot glass, throwing it back just in time to sing the next line as tequila drips from the corner of his mouth.  The drop of alcohol runs down his chin to trace the muscles of his neck, and as Harry pulls himself to sit next to Y/N on the bar, the only thing she wants to do is lean forward and lick the liquor from his skin.

“‘I used to think I was sensible’…” Harry passes a newly poured shot to Y/N, meaning for her to take it from him, and he nearly stutters over his next line as Y/N wraps her hand around his own, guiding him to guide the shot to her mouth.  There’s a sharp intake of air into the microphone before Harry can sing again, and Y/N smirks at the small victory as she wipes her mouth doing her best to hide how the bitter taste of the tequila affects her. “‘It makes the truth even more incomprehensible’.”

Y/N brings her microphone to her mouth again to sing the next verse with Harry, their eyes locked together as they lean forward into each other.  Despite the cheering of the crowd, Y/N can’t help but feel as though she and Harry are the only two in the bar, as if this—very public—performance were small and intimate and just between them.

“‘Because everything is new’…” Harry grips the knot in Y/N’s plaid shirt, easily pulling it undone with one hand.  His eyes break away from hers for only a moment to canvas over her newly exposed midriff and lace bralette before snapping back to her gaze with a renewed vigor. He keeps the tails of the shirt clutched within his strong hand as he begins to lean back on the bar, pulling Y/N down with him.

“‘And everything is you’…” Y/N almost falls over before she catches herself, bracing one hand beside Harry’s head on the bar to support her weight as he lays down fully. She can feel how tightly he’s gripping her shirt by how the hem of it is pressing into her skin, and the pressure of the fabric cues another kind of pressure to begin to curl inside her stomach. When she sucks in a breath, she can taste tequila and Harry’s cologne on her tongue, and she struggles to bite back a whine while Harry wraps her shirt tighter around his hand.

“‘And all I’ve learned has overturned’…” Harry releases the wrinkled fabric of her shirt, his now freed hand trading the cloth for the skin of her exposed waist.  The coolness of his rings against her flushed skin makes Y/N’s breath stutter, and she curls her body over him more in response.  The taste of Harry’s touch has sparked a need to be closer, as well as a new fluttering in her core, and judging by the way Harry keeps licking his lips, he knows it.

Refusing to be the only one affected by their close proximity, Y/N moves her supporting hand from the bar to Harry’s hair, tugging on it harshly as Harry opens his mouth to sing the next line.  As Y/N sings “‘I beg of you’…” with a pleading glance, Harry grunts deep in his throat, just managing to pull the microphone away from his lips so that Y/N is the only one to hear it.

Although getting a reaction out of Harry was her goal, actually hearing that reaction is another story entirely.  Heat rushes to Y/N’s face as Harry grips her waist tighter, pressing her thighs and hips to his own as he guides the two of them to the beat of the music.  The cheering and wolf whistles from the crowd are the only thing that keep Y/N grounded and in the moment, reminding her that—despite how it feels—there are people watching the two of them.

“‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’.” Harry grinds his hip against Y/N’s once more, moving them in a steady and consistent pace.  Y/N repositions her body in return, spreading her legs so she can straddle Harry’s hips more easily.  She knows, though, that she needs to start pulling back.  She has to do something to get away from him, to break the trance that his touch has her in, before she does something she’ll regret.

“‘Don’t go sharing your devotion’…” Y/N slowly sits back up, letting go of Harry’s hair in order to trail her free hand down his chest. Although she knows that she’s supposed to be distancing herself from him, she can’t resist digging her nails in just the slightest bit, delighting in the hiss that leaves his mouth. “‘Lay all your love on me’…”

Harry sits up slowly as the key changes, his eyes glued to Y/N’s lips as she sings a line by herself, her voice growing ever so slightly fainter every time Harry tugs on his red lips with his teeth, soothing the mark with his tongue a moment after. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’…”

Now that they’re both sitting upright, Harry grips their bodies and turns them so that their legs once again dangle off the bar.  Y/N can feel the blood rushing from her head as she drapes her arm over Harry’s shoulder, her eyelids fluttering as Harry digs his fingertips into her waist. “‘Don’t go sharing your devotion’…” Harry’s pupils are so blown that his irises practically look black.  His chest is heaving with every breath, his exposed skin flushed and sweaty.  His curls are a mess from Y/N tangling her fingers in them.  If Y/N didn’t know any better, she’d say Harry looks freshly fucked, and then she wonders if she looks the same.  By the way Harry’s looking at her, she thinks it’s safe to say that she does.

“‘Lay all your love on me’.” They finish together, hungry eyes locked with each other while the wolf whistles and clapping gets louder as the final notes of the song trail off.  This is where they should break apart, Y/N thinks, her chest moving rapidly with every ragged breath she takes.  This is where she should climb off Harry’s lap, climb down from the bar, return the microphones to the DJ, and gather her things and go.  This is the end of whatever the hell just happened during that song.  This is where she says “Harry, we have to be up early tomorrow to drive, so we should go back to the motel.”

To her credit, Y/N tries. She swallows hard, her mouth as dry as it’s ever been, and sucks in another breath, almost whimpering at the taste of his cologne in the back of her throat.  Don’t, she tells herself.  She needs to say what she needs to say.  Their game is done.  It’s over.

“Harry—” She begins, and that’s all she manages to say before Harry is kissing her.

Her body reacts before her mind does, but between the overwhelming sensations all around her and the copious amounts of liquor that her brain is swimming in, Y/N can only register every third movement.  The microphone falling from her hand onto the bar as she tangles her fingers back in Harry’s curls, twisting and pulling and receiving the most delightful gasps from him in return.  Harry’s teeth catching her bottom lip, just barely tugging on the tender flesh. Ringed hands keeping a firm grip on Y/N’s sides as Harry helps her down from the bar, his lips still pressed firmly against her own.  The lingering taste of tequila on Harry’s skin as Y/N kisses down his jaw, unable to completely pull away as Harry struggles to settle their tab with the bartender.

She’s never felt like this before; Y/N didn’t even know it could feel like this.  She didn’t know that she could feel an ache so deep inside her, both painful and pleasurable at the same time, and be so completely aware that the only cure for it is the touch of another person.  Y/N had been convinced that this rush was something that was fiction, made up by steamy romance novels to entice lonely housewives to dive beneath their pages. And yet here she is, stumbling out of a bar in Cleveland, Ohio, with Harry Styles, someone that she swore up and down that she hated five days ago.  Here she is with Harry’s jacket draped over her heated shoulders, his hands slipped underneath, rubbing at her exposed skin as he guides her back to the motel.  Here she is with his lips connected to her neck the moment their motel room door is closed, his fingers fumbling with the locks on the door as he refuses to pull away from her.

Yes, Y/N thinks, as she grinds her hips against Harry’s, relishing in the strangled moan that he breathes into her mouth: it’s never felt like this.

“Y/N—” Each pant of her name from his lips sounds like a song. “Fuck, Y/N—” Harry pulls back from her just enough to suck in a full breath, the first in what feels like hours. “I—we—”

“Shut up.” Y/N uses her grip on his hair to pull his head back, trailing open mouthed kisses over his jugular. “Just shut up, Harry, I need—I just need—”

“Need what?” Harry demands, eyes dark as he pushes himself away from her.  An involuntary whine at the loss of contact escapes from Y/N’s throat, and Harry has to steel himself again before he can continue. “What do you need?” He asks, struggling to keep his voice controlled. “You—you have to tell me, so that—I need you to be clear.”

Y/N licks over her swollen lips, eyes blown wide with lust as she stares up at Harry, struggling to find the words.  “I need…” She swallows once more, inhaling sharply as he grips her shoulders to steady her. “I need you, Harry.  Just fuck me. I-I need you to—”

Before she can finish her request, Harry has scooped her up into his arms, tossing her on the creaking motel bed as if she were a rag doll.  A gasp of shock leaves Y/N’s mouth, and she’s barely managed to sit up before Harry is caging his body over hers, forcing her back down as he kisses her hard.

Y/N’s hands go straight to the hem of his shirt, tugging roughly on the fabric, shoving it up Harry’s body before he gets the clue to half sit up and pull it off himself. After that, it’s a rush to remove clothes, each of them blindly pulling off shirts and bras and pants.  Everything is rushed, and that’s what Y/N wants. She doesn’t want time to lay down and explore, and allow herself space to second guess her decision.  All she wants is Harry to do something about the ache in her core, to fill her up so completely that she’ll be feeling him for days. It’s that need that makes Y/N tug on his hair to get his attention as he begins to kiss her thighs.

“No.” She shakes her head haphazardly, and the room spins slightly when she finishes the motion. “No, I just—I just need you to fuck me.  I’m ready, Harry—”

“But—” His teeth tug roughly on his bottom lip, mimicking Y/N’s actions from moments ago. “I want to taste—”

“Please, Harry.” Y/N whines, throwing her head back on the motel pillow. “It’s been so long since I’ve been full…please…”

The lewd admission catches Harry off guard. “Fucking hell—” He spits out, his hands tugging on his hair as he sits up. “Yeah, I—okay.” He closes his eyes for a moment to steady himself, the struggle to have a coherent thought clear on his face. “Okay, I need…”

Harry’s eyes begin to search the room, and the moment they settle on his bag in the corner, he rushes towards it.  Y/N watches the muscles in his back shift beneath his smooth skin as he unzips the bag, rummaging through it before pulling out a tiny foil square.  He tucks the package between his teeth as his hands fumble with his belt, undoing it quickly and pulling it off to toss to the floor.  He undoes his button and fly as he climbs back onto the bed, doing his best to waste no time as he situates himself between Y/N’s still spread legs.  

“Y’look so hot like this, y’know that?” He can’t stop himself from muttering the words as he pulls his pants down just enough to free his cock.  Y/N stares hungrily at how swollen he is, only half listening to Harry’s words as she watches his hand stroke himself, the other lifting the condom package to his teeth.  He tears the foil open, spitting the little tag from his mouth as he removes the condom from the foil.  That foil is soon tossed to the ground before Harry gives himself one last stroke, quickly but carefully rolling the condom down the length of his shaft.

Placing his hands on either knee, Harry spreads Y/N’s legs even wider, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of her bare core. “You’re dripping.” Harry says in a low voice, and before Y/N can reply with anything, he runs a ringed finger over her folds and slips it into his mouth.

“Ah—!” Y/N gasps at the unexpected sensation, the minimal contact enough to send her reeling. Harry grins at the response, loving how the pleasure from the small action is clearly written across her face.

“Sorry.” He says with a small shrug, lining himself up with her entrance. “Just wanted a little taste, tha’s all.  Couldn’t resist.” Harry drags the tip of his cock along Y/N’s slick core, a look of concentration overtaking his features. “I’ll go slow—”

A sound of protest leaves Y/N’s mouth. “No.  Go fast. I need it, Harry, please—” Her plea is cut off by Harry thrusting inside her with one sharp movement, and then Y/N stops talking completely.

There’s a slight feeling of pain, as she wasn’t lying when she said it’s been a while since she’s been with someone, but underneath that pain, pleasure is quickly building as Harry begins to snap his hips towards hers, finding a rhythm within a few thrusts. Y/N knows immediately that Harry is probably one of the largest men—if not the largest man—she’s ever been with, but that’s exactly what she needs right now.  The moment he filled her for the first time, there was a feeling of completeness that she’s been missing in her life for a long time.  She needed this, she thinks.  She needed to be stretched, to be filled, to be fucked, and Harry is the only one that could have fulfilled those needs this well. She’s convinced of it.

It’s far from the most romantic sex Y/N’s ever had; it’s all teeth clacking, biting, scratching, tugging, and growling.  And she knows that she should be concerned about how Harry’s teeth biting down on her shoulder is going to leave marks, especially when she has to wear a bridesmaid dress in less than 48 hours.  But all of that is exactly what she needs.  She doesn’t want Harry to whisper how much he loves her, how close he feels to her, how happy he is to be with her.  She doesn’t want to hear him say anything, except—

“Feel so fucking good around my cock.” He growls, his fingertips digging deeper into the flesh of her hips. “So bloody tight, Y/N…”

A sharp gasp tumbles out of Y/N’s throat as Harry swivels his hips, finding the exact spot she needs him the most. “Oh God, Harry, I—” Y/N scratches her nails down his back, surely leaving a trail of angry red marks in her place, as her other hand twists the sheets within her grip. “Fuck, right there, right there, right there—”

“Feels good, yeah? You like it?” Harry manages to bring a hand to her hair, tangling it within her locks and pulling hard. “Tell me.” His voice is so much lower than she’s ever heard it, his accent so much thicker, and the combination sends Y/N’s eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Tell me how much you love my cock, and—fuck—how much you love me fucking you.”

Y/N’s mouth falls open, a strangled whine echoing from the back of her throat as the head of Harry’s cock presses against her G-spot again. “I-I love it, Harry, I—your cock fills me so well—don’t stop, please don’t stop—!”

Using her moans as fuel, Harry begins to thrust faster, tugging on Y/N’s hair one last time before grasping her hips between his hands to gain more control.  If his flushed skin and the sweat covering his entire body is any indication, Y/N can tell that Harry is just as close as she is.  Her breathing quickens just as the sound of the bed creaking does, and she brings one hand down to her clit to rub fast circles, desperate to reach her release.

“Harry—” She gasps for what seems the millionth time that night, her body shuddering as she pushes closer and closer to the edge. “I’m so fucking close, Harry, please—”

The growl that falls from Harry’s mouth almost doesn’t sound like him.  It’s deeper, more animalistic, and so unlike the careful and slow voice that she’s gotten used to over the last five days.  Releasing one hand from her hip, he pushes her hand out of the way, replacing her fingers with his own to rub circles over her clit. “Cum for me, Y/N. I know you need it, baby, so just—” Harry groans as her walls squeeze his length. “Just cum.”

The command combined with his motions is all it takes to push Y/N over the edge.  A breathless gasp falls from her open mouth, and she screws her eyes shut as pleasure courses through her body.  It’s so much more intense than anything she’s felt before, so much more pleasurable, so much more dizzying, and just so much more. Small whimpers and Harry’s name are the only things she can think to say as her orgasm makes her movements stutter before falling limply back onto the bed.

“Fuck—” Harry moans roughly as he kisses her one more time, his mouth falling open against hers as her orgasm triggers his own.  Although the rhythm of his thrusts stutters, they don’t completely stop, and he continues to slam his hips against her own as he rides out his orgasm. “That’s it, baby—squeeze me tight—” Harry pants into Y/N’s mouth, barely registering anything he’s saying, let alone the pet name that’s begun to fall from his lips. “Christ…”

Things become a blur after that.  After Harry pulls out, all Y/N can focus on is how empty she feels without his thick cock filling her to the brim, and she doesn’t even realize that he’s gotten off the bed until he returns, his weight causing the whole bed frame to creak once more. With both of them so sweaty, Harry only pulls the top sheet over their panting bodies, pressing his head into the crook of Y/N’s neck as his eyes close.

Neither of them says anything, and for multiple reasons.  What exactly is there to say?  And, more pressing, what exactly is Y/N capable of saying right now?  There are no words running through her mind. All she can do is think in terms of physical contact and needs, and those two things tell her everything she knows in this moment.  She knows that Harry is in just his boxers now because she can’t feel the rough fabric of his pants against her bare skin.  She knows that she needs his hands on her, cupping her breasts the way he is. She knows that if he were to move away from her, she’d go chasing after him.  She knows that she’s completely worn out—completely fucked out, really—and above all else, she knows that whatever needs to be discussed between them can be discussed the next morning.

Harry, however, seems to have a different approach.  His face still pressed into her neck, he mumbles something against her sweat soaked skin, low and deep and completely inaudible.  Y/N feels an open mouthed kiss pressed to her neck, and then hears another mumble, this one even quieter than the last.

“Hm?” Y/N barely manages to hum the syllable in her exhaustion.

There’s no response, no repeat of the quiet phrases, and it takes Y/N a few minutes of feeling Harry’s breathing even out to realize that he’s fallen asleep.  If she were sober and had the mental capacity to examine things, Y/N would wonder what it was that Harry whispered into her skin.  But her brain is swimming in exhaustion and endorphins and tequila, and the only thing she can do is close her eyes and allow her breathing to sync up with the rise and fall of Harry’s chest.

…

The first thing Y/N registers the next morning is the shrill ringing of her cell phone, which somehow made its way to the bedside table in her drunken fervour the night before. The second thing she registers is the pounding of her head, like she can feel each pump of blood to her brain, and the uncomfortably dry feeling in her mouth, as if it’s been stuffed full of cotton. The third thing Y/N registers is—

“Christ.” Harry groans into her neck, his voice raspy from sleep and laced with irritation. “God, who is calling right now?”

Right.  The third thing she registers, probably the most complicated of all, Y/N thinks, is just how much of Harry’s taut and tattooed bare skin is pressed against her own.  His strong arms are thrown over her waist, clutching her tight to his chest. In the back of her mind, she’s vaguely aware of the chain of Harry’s cross pressing into her breast, probably leaving a small red indentation along with the other marks he left on her last night.

Last night.

Y/N lets out a small whine as the previous evening comes rushing back to her.  It’s a blur of alcohol, ABBA, and Harry.  Harry is everywhere, in every blurred picture her hungover brain can conjure.  Laughing at her from across the table.  Smirking at her on stage.  Staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes as he pulled her down on top of him on the bar, grinding his hips into hers.  Kissing her.  Kissing her multiple times.  Coming back to their room with his hands leaving scorching imprints over every inch of her.  And now, him laying next to her, clutching the two of them together like they’ve always done this.  Like it’s natural.

The phone rings again, louder than the last time, and Harry curses under his breath, the short exhale of air leaving goosebumps along Y/N’s neck.  He lifts his head just barely as he reaches across Y/N’s body, grabbing her phone from the bedside table and not bothering to check the caller ID as he answers.

“Hello?” He says, the rasp of sleep still clear his voice.  Within three seconds, Harry’s entire body tenses against Y/N, his arm constricting around her waist enough to shift her on the bed.

Y/N lifts her head up when she feels the change, finally opening her eyes just enough to read the change in Harry’s body language.  What she finds are dark and stormy green eyes, a swollen red mouth pressed into a thin line, and a deep crease between his furrowed brow, all of it such a contrast from the hazy memories of him the night before.

“I—yeah, she’s right here.” Harry mutters, his eyes snapping to Y/N’s face for just a moment. “I’ll—oh. Yeah, no, the trip’s been…good. Yeah.  Not too much traffic.” His arm moves off her waist as he pulls away from her, rolling onto his back as the bed creaks beneath them.  With his newly freed hand, Harry covers his eyes, rubbing them for a moment as the irritation on his face grows. “Yeah, it was nice of me to give her a ride.  Yeah.” He sucks in a breath. “Well, she’s—she’s awake now.  Here.  I’ll let you two talk.”

Y/N props herself up on one elbow, careful to keep the sheet pressed to her chest so that she’s not exposed. She knows that Harry’s already seen everything, touched everything, and kissed everything, but the sudden change in his demeanor is telling her that she needs to be guarded, even if she has no idea what caused it.

Harry holds out her phone for her, his face stony as Y/N slowly accepts it. “Harry—?” She begins, but he just gives a rough jerk of his head, and offers no other explanation.

Eyes still glued to Harry’s face, Y/N brings the phone to her ear, clearing the sleep from her voice. “Hello?”

“Hi.” The familiar cadence of Brant’s voice crackles through the phone speaker, an indication of how far away he is from her. “It’s good to finally hear your voice; I haven’t been able to catch you the last few days.”

Y/N keeps her eyes on Harry as her body goes cold, pressing the sheet tighter to her chest. “Brant.” She whispers his name unintentionally; her body won’t allow her to say it any louder. “Hi.”

At the sound of Brant’s voice leaving her lips, Harry throws the covers off of himself, jerkily pulling himself off of the low motel room bed.  He snatches his jeans off the floor, and doesn’t give Y/N another glance as he walks to the small bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.

“Hi.” Brant says again, completely unaware of what’s happening on the other end of the telephone line. “I’ve missed you.  Where are you now?”

“Uh, Cleveland.” Y/N says weakly, stumbling her way out of the bed to her duffel bag.  She grabs a new bra and t-shirt, along with her comfiest pair of pants.  Without Harry beside her, she’s freezing. “Today’s our last day of driving.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.” Brant replies easily. “The wedding is tomorrow, then?”

“Mhmm.” Y/N’s eyes flicker to the bathroom as the sound of the shower starting travels through the wood of the door. “And tonight is the rehearsal dinner.”

Brant makes a sound of acknowledgement on the other end of the phone. “That’ll be nice!  Do you know if you’re flying back?”

“Uh—” Y/N pauses her movements, her pants half pulled up her legs.  That, honestly, is a good question, and one which seems as though the answer is changing with every passing moment. “I guess I’ll call the airline and…see if I can fly back.  Maybe the storms will have passed.”

“You must have driven through them, right?  In Utah, or wherever they were?” Brant asks curiously. “Did they seem that bad? Honestly, I’ve always found thunder to be relaxing.  I think most people do.”

Y/N tugs her t-shirt over her head with one hand, accidentally bumping her chin as she does so.  The motion causes her to bite down on her tongue, and she lets out a curse under her breath, not even bothering to correct Brant.  It doesn’t matter, she thinks.  He probably wouldn’t remember. “Yeah.  Relaxing.”

The sound of the shower turning off catches her attention, distracting her from what Brant says next. “I—sorry—” She mutters in a distracted tone, raking her fingers through her sleep and sex mussed hair. “What was that?”

“I said let me know when you’re on your way back from New York, so I’ll make us a dinner reservation.” Brant repeats himself without suspicion of Y/N’s distracted tone. “We just got some new files at work that I think you’ll be very interested in.”

The bathroom door creaks open, and Harry emerges from the cloud of shower steam.  He’s dressed in just his pants, his marked chest still damp from the shower.  Although he catches Y/N’s eye for a moment, he quickly looks away, rubbing his towel through his wet curls as he turns to search for a shirt.  The red marks of Y/N’s nails are prominent on his otherwise unmarked back.

“Dinner?” Y/N repeats slowly, chewing on her cuticle as she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Are you—you still want to get dinner?”

“Of course.  I enjoy our weekly dinners, don’t you?” Brant asks, confusion finally slipping into his voice. “I’ve missed them.”

“I—” Y/N clears her throat, rubbing her thumb absentmindedly over her bottom lip. “Okay.  Yeah.  Dinner. I’ll, um, I’ll let you know when I book a flight home.”

“Sounds wonderful. Well, I’ll let you get on the road. Let me know when you’re available.” Brant’s voice already sounds more and more distant. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.” Y/N replies lamely, letting her phone drop to the crumpled bed sheets.

There’s a rustling behind her, the sound of a belt clicking, of the zipper on a duffel bag being pulled shut.  Y/N waits for a moment, to give Harry the chance to say something to her, but nothing comes.  Finally, she twists around on the bed, her nerves running on high.

Harry is completely dressed now, a black t-shirt covering his previously bare chest, and he’s tied his familiar green bandana into his damp chestnut locks.  His sunglasses are hanging on the neck of his shirt, but even without them covering his emerald eyes, Y/N can’t decipher anything that’s swirling within them.

“That—that was Brant.” She says finally, scratching a nail over the palm of her hand.

Harry jerks his head in a nod as he shoulders his duffel bag. “Yeah.  I heard.” Tapping his fingers against the leather strap, he finally spares a glance at Y/N. “He wants to take you to dinner, huh?”

Running her teeth along her bottom lip, Y/N takes a moment before she replies. “Harry, I—”

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters, taking long strides to the door and unlocking it with a harsh turn of his hand. “Just hurry up, yeah?  I want to get on the road soon, so we’re not late to the rehearsal dinner.”

When he slams the door behind him, Y/N breaks.

…

And just like that, it’s like they’re back at square one.

It really feels like the first day all over again, Y/N thinks, in every sense of the sentiment. From the way she and Harry sit in silence, each avoiding the other’s gaze, to how every single one of Harry’s movements is filled with a tight and tense irritation.  Even the sound of Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” is familiar, echoing through the speakers of the car like a soundtrack to an old memory.  

After four hours, the silence is finally getting to her.  She can’t stop shifting in her seat, her muscles seizing from hours on end in the same position—although, frankly, her soreness may partially be a result of her and Harry’s activities from the night before—and with every short and hard breath Harry sighs, Y/N gets more and more antsy.

“Harry.” She says finally, risking a glance at him from the corner of her eye.  He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the stick shift, both grips tight enough to stretch his skin over the bones of his knuckles until it goes white.  At the sound of Y/N’s voice, his jaw flexes, but he shows no other evidence that he heard her.

A frustrated sigh falls past Y/N’s lips. “Harry.” She says again, firmer this time. “Are you going to ignore me all the way to the Catskills?”

Realizing that he can’t feign deafness, Harry lets his shoulders lift once and drop down again in a quick motion. “’M not ignoring you.” He mutters, keeping his eyes glued to the road.

“We’re not talking. At all.” Y/N taps her fingers against her knee, just slightly off the beat of the music. “Shouldn’t we talk about what happened?”

“Why?” Harry asks, his voice flatter than she’s ever heard it. “What’s there to talk about?”

Y/N twists her body in her seat, her seat belt nearly cutting into her throat with how quickly she moves. “What the hell do you mean, what’s there to talk about?  There’s plenty!  Last night—”

Harry cuts over her with a sharp tone, still refusing to look away from the road. “Last night we got drunk, and we made a mistake.” His grip tightens even more on the gear shift as he moves it to accelerate the car. “And it shouldn’t have happened.”

It takes a few moment for the words to register in her brain, and Y/N blinks slowly as the process unfolds. “You think it was a mistake?” She tries to ask the question as nonchalantly as possible.

“I do.” Harry nods tightly, and while Y/N thinks that she can detect something else underneath his tone, his dark sunglasses hide the truth of his thoughts from her. “We got caught up with trying to—to pretend we’re not who we are.  But we know who we are.”

If Y/N’s brain couldn’t process Harry’s words a moment ago, it’s working in overdrive now as she draws a million different conclusions from the conversation.  What the fuck does “we know who we are” mean?  Wasn’t the whole point of this trip—the long lesson they’d learned together—that both of them were different than the other had thought? Hadn’t Harry proved to her, over and over, how he was so much more considerate and empathetic than she’d previously imagined?  Hadn’t she shown him that she wasn’t the Ice Queen he thought she was, wasn’t as controlling, wasn’t as perfect?  Hadn’t that been a good thing?  Hadn’t they bonded at roadside fruit stands, small souvenir shacks, ghost town gas stations, and dingy motel rooms?

But maybe…maybe she had imagined all of that, because the way that Harry is actively avoiding her gaze is telling her that he isn’t thinking the same thing.  Everything from his body language, to his tone of voice, to his attitude, is telling her that he’s just as stubborn and closed off as he was when they first met.  He hasn’t changed.  If he had, he wouldn’t be refusing to do something as simple as look at her.

Still, something about the interaction doesn’t sit right with Y/N.  Although she turns to face the windshield again, she keeps Harry in the corner of her gaze. “Is this…” She swallows hard. “Does this have something to do with Brant calling?”

A harsh snort is all the response she gets. “Christ, no.  Trust me, nothing that prick can do has that much of an affect on me.” Even from behind his sunglasses, Y/N can tell that Harry is rolling his eyes. “Although I suppose it is a reminder of where you belong.”

A flash of irritation rips up Y/N’s spine. “A reminder of what?” She repeats, eyes narrowing.

“You heard me, Y/N, don’t make me say it again.” Harry taps a finger to the song, perfectly on the beat. They’re out of sync, Y/N realizes. Had they ever been in sync?

No, she decides.  They hadn’t.  She’d just been fooling herself.  Being in the car for five days with only Harry for company had deluded her, but soon she’d be with Jo, and a million other people, and when she’s not in stuck in Harry’s car, smelling Harry’s cologne, listening to Harry’s music, she’ll have a clear head.  She’ll be able to think straight.

“Fine.” Y/N crosses her arms firmly over her chest, leaning her head against the cool glass of the passenger window.  A sign welcoming them to the state of New York whizzes past. “I won’t make you say it again.  You don’t have to say anything.”

…

“So?  What do you think?”

Y/N steps over the threshold of the cozy cabin, analyzing every little detail of the room as quickly as she can.  The interior seems to be one open concept room, cleverly split up with small architectural dividers.  The living room and kitchen flowed into each other smoothly, with a kitchen island dividing the space.  To the left of the living room is a small reading nook, holding a comfortable looking wicker swing chair and a half-size bookshelf that seems to be well stocked. Separating the reading nook from the rest of the cabin is the staircase, which Y/N presumes leads up to the master bedroom and bathroom that’s lofted above on the halved second floor. Between the wall of windows giving a beautiful view of the forest, the fire quietly cracking in the living room, and the potted plants scattered around the cabin, Y/N has to admit that she thinks she could live in this space for the rest of her life.

“It’s beautiful, Jo.” She finally replies, setting down her suitcase and duffel bag as she continues to look around.  She walks to the living room first, brushing her fingers over the cable knit blanket that’s draped over the back of the comfortable looking couch. “Is this for you and Laure?”

“Nope.  It’s for me and you.” Jo replies, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge.  She pulls out a bottle of rosé, motioning over her shoulder to the cupboard. “Grab a couple wine glasses, would you?”

Y/N crosses to the kitchen, searching through the cupboards until she finds the glasses.  Setting them down on the island, she gives Jo a confused look. “Me and you?”

Jo gives her a familiar grin as she uncorks the wine, and the sight of it lights a warm fire in Y/N’s chest.  It feels like home. “It’s tradition for the bride not to see the bride before the wedding, isn’t it?  So after the rehearsal dinner, Laure and I will say goodbye until the ceremony tomorrow, and you and I—” She fills Y/N’s glass liberally. “Will have one last night of single girl fun.  And then you can have the cabin to yourself tomorrow night, because I will be on my honeymoon, and, hopefully, getting laid.”

Y/N smiles back at her as she lifts her glass, clinking it against Jo’s. “Sounds like a plan.” After taking a long sip, Y/N leans her elbows on the counter, propping her head in her hands. “I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow.  Married!”

“Yeah, well, that’s old news.” Jo waves her hand as she lowers her wine glass from her lips, her inquisitive eyes alight with mischief. “I’d rather know how the trip with Harry was. Are you two finally getting along? The last time I called, you actually sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Y/N pauses with her wine glass half lifted to her lips.  Part of her wants to tell Jo everything, because she always tells Jo everything. It feels wrong to have a secret from her.  But then again, she’s never had a reason to have a secret before.  Right now, however…the last thing Jo and Laure need the night before their wedding—three hours before the rehearsal dinner—is to be stressed because the maid of honour and the best man had a drunken one night stand in Cleveland, Ohio.  

“I wouldn’t say we’re getting along.” Y/N says diplomatically, taking a sip of wine between her words. “We’re…a bit better, I suppose.  But we’re not that close.”

“Really?” When Jo raises an eyebrow, Y/N almost swears that she can detect a hint of disappointment in her voice. “But Harry said—”

“He said what?” Y/N asks quickly, the diplomatic tone disappearing immediately.

Jo tugs on her bottom lip as she gives a small shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing, I guess.  I don’t know.  I overheard him and Laure talking last night, but I couldn’t really make much of it out.  It sounded like you two were at a bar.”

The new information makes Y/N pause.  Harry had called Laure while they were at the bar last night.  Harry had felt the need to call Laure while they were at the bar last night.  What had been so urgent, so pressing, that he needed to speak to her right then and there?

“A bar, yeah.” Y/N finally replies after a moment. “It was alright.  We just had a couple drinks to relax from being in the car.”

“Just drinks?  That’s all?  Nothing else?”

Y/N clears her throat, gulping down the rest of her wine before answering. “That’s it.  Nothing else.”

…

“Here you go, Miss Bride.” Y/N grins at Jo as she tops off her mimosa, fixing the tie of her pink silk robe as she settles back down in her chair. “Something to relax you, yeah?”

Jo glances up at Y/N, her pen pausing over the page of her notebook.  She’s careful when she moves her head, so as not to disturb the hairstylist that’s carefully curling her hair, but still manages to meet Y/N’s eye. “I’m relaxed.” She argues, but takes a sip of the drink nonetheless. “I just love mimosas.  You can’t blame me for that.”

Y/N gives a slight shrug as she brushes a strand of her own carefully styled hair over her shoulder. Jo, being Jo, had insisted on sleeping in as much as she could that morning, so when the hair and makeup lady had arrived two hours ago, Y/N had been the first one to get made over. Which, honestly, she quite enjoyed, but the real feat would be remaining picture perfect until the ceremony, which is still two hours away.

“Will you do something for me?” Jo asks suddenly, her pen still scratching over her notebook.  She finishes signing her name with a messy signature, waiting until the hairdresser has paused her movements to rip the page from the notebook and fold it up.  She quickly writes Laure’s name on the front and extends the note to Y/N. “Will you bring this to Laure?”

Although Y/N accepts the note from her automatically, there’s a flicker of hesitation in her voice. “This isn’t an explanation of why you’re leaving her at the altar, is it?”

Jo flips Y/N off with an elegantly painted fingernail. “No, you jerk.  We agreed to write letters to each other right before the wedding.  As a little keepsake.”

A sudden lump develops in Y/N’s throat as she turns the note over in her hands, her mind flickering back to the last time she’d read something Jo wrote for Laure.  How Harry’s voice had sounded reciting Laure’s words for Jo. “You two are sickeningly sweet, you know that?” Y/N finishes her mimosa before standing up, tightening her robe once again. “I’ll take it to her now. Where’s her cabin?”

“Just down the path towards the resort.  Take a left when you reach the arrow sign.” Jo instructs her, setting her notebook down beside her before relaxing back into her chair.  Her eyes close as the hairdresser continues styling her hair. “You’ll find it.”

Y/N nods, slipping on her scuffed up Vans before dashing outside.  When the slight chill in the morning air hits her, she pulls her silk dressing gown around her tighter, and debates whether or not she should grab a proper jacket.  She decides against it, however, and ignores the goosebumps popping up on her bare legs as she begins to walk down the path Jo mentioned.

It’s a quiet and calm morning, and Y/N can hear birds chirping and flittering through the pine trees around them.  The trees themselves add a wonderful scent to the air, in addition to the faint smell that indicates it may rain later.  Glancing up, Y/N can see that the sky is overcast, giving another indication of future weather patterns.  A small sigh escapes her.  A storm would be just the thing that’s needed today, she thinks wryly.  

When Y/N reaches the arrow sign, which points towards the lake, the main resort building, and the cabins, she takes a sharp left.  And practically slams into Harry’s chest.

On instinct, Harry’s strong hands grip her arms, steadying her as she stumbles back from him.  Y/N’s eyes widen as she registers who she almost walked into, and she can tell Harry is just realizing it’s her.  His grip on her tightens for just a moment before it releases, and he takes a step back from her, creating space between their bodies.

“Sorry.” Y/N says after a moment, clearing her throat. “I was just—”

“Yeah.” Harry holds up his hand, and for the first time Y/N realizes that he’s holding a note identical to hers. “You’re on messenger duty too, huh?”

Biting her lip, Y/N nods slowly, holding up her own note. “Mhmm.”

The two of them stare at each other for a moment, and Y/N doesn’t miss how Harry’s green irises pause during his scan of her bare legs.  Crossing her ankles together, Y/N lets her eyes wander too, admiring for a moment how Harry’s grey sweatpants cling to his hips.  But only for a moment.

“Well, here.” Y/N pushes the note towards him, taking the note that he trades her in return. “How’s Laure doing?”

Harry gives a half shrug, turning Jo’s note over and over in his fingers. “Pretty decent, except she won’t eat anything.  Says she’s too nervous.”

Y/N cracks a small smile at the image of Laure, someone who is usually so self assured and confident, being too nervous about anything. “Tell her she can’t have a drink until she eats.  That’s how I got some toast into Jo.”

“I’ll do that.” Harry says with a terse nod.  

A beat of silence falls between the two of them, the only sounds audible being the chirping of birds and the wind in the trees.  The latter sends a shiver through Y/N, and she wraps her arms around herself to rub her bare skin, trying to find a bit of warmth in the shade of the forest.

A crease appears between Harry’s brow as he registers the motion, and he quickly shrugs off his own jacket.  Before Y/N can refuse, he’s draping the fabric around her shoulders, careful not to touch any bare skin.

Although Y/N fixes the drape of the jacket, her mouth opens to protest. “Harry—”

“I should go.  I have to give this to Laure, and get her to eat something.” Harry’s voice is gruff as he takes a step back. “I suppose I’ll…see you at the wedding?”

Y/N nods slowly, her fingers still grazing over the hem of the jacket. “Yeah.” She should say more, she thinks.  She should voice her anger, or her hurt, or whatever the hell it is that’s curdling like a hot ball of lead inside her stomach, but she can’t think of the words. “Yeah, I—” I’m sorry.  I miss you. I wish I could take it back.  I wish I could do things over. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

…

“Uh, hello.  Can everyone hear me?”

Y/N watches with expectant eyes as Harry leans forward over the podium, his pink lips brushing against the microphone for just a moment before he takes a step back.  He looks so different than the last time she’d seen him with a microphone, she thinks.  He’s dressed so much more formally, in a striking emerald suit that matches the colour palette of the wedding, along with Y/N’s dress.  His cheeks are flushed from champagne, his eyes bright, but there’s a hint of nerves under his thick accent.  

Harry raises his fist to his mouth, clearing his throat quietly as he unfolds a piece of paper and smooths it on the podium. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Harry Styles.  I have had the honour of being Laure’s best man today, as well as her best friend since we were teenagers.” Harry pauses his speech to smile at Laure, the fondness for the bride apparent in his eyes. “We’ve been through a lot together—I’ve watched her go through a lot, too—and she’s always come out on the other side better than ever.  An example of this is when she made the decision—after living in England her whole life, never leaving, living in the same small brownstone for eighteen years—to move to America for university.”

Y/N lifts her champagne to her lips, taking a small sip while keeping her eyes glued to Harry.  The more he talks, the more relaxed he appears, as he naturally falls into the role of a performer again.  Out of the corner of her eye, she can practically see him charming every woman in the room, and it takes all her concentration not to roll her eyes.

“She’d made the decision a bit impulsively, and—in true Laure fashion—stuck to it like the stubborn person she is.” Harry laughs lightly, shaking his head at the memory as Jo nods in agreement beside Y/N. “She was so certain that moving was what she wanted, so determined to do it—and then the night before her flight, she showed up at my house in tears, talking about how she couldn’t possibly go through with the move.  She couldn’t leave behind everything she’d known.” Glancing down at his notes for a moment, Harry takes a deep breath before continuing. “It freaked me out a bit, I won’t lie.  To see someone who’s usually so sure of themselves question such a big decision. But I assured her that everything would be fine, that moving forward was always scary, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the right thing to do.  Life always pushes us forward, whether we’re ready for it or not.  So Laure left, and a month later, I decided to go visit her in America, expecting to find her incredibly homesick, in tears, a mess.” A small smile begins to play at the corner of Harry’s lip. “Instead, I arrived to find her adjusted, happy, and about to go on a date with a girl she had met named Jo.”

A laugh ripples through the wedding guests, and Y/N can’t help but smile in spite of herself.  

“And I, uh…I was at a loss for words that day.” Harry’s eyes flicker to the head table, settling on the two brides with a happy smile, and yet…something in his eyes looks flatter, like he’s trapped in a deep thought. “I thought I was going to visit my friend, and comfort her, and instead I found her on a date, completely fine.  She didn’t need me to comfort her.  She was—and still is—so incredibly resilient. She always has been.”

Harry’s eyes travel again, but this time, they settle on Y/N.  She shifts in her seat as he looks her over, his eyes phasing emotions again while his tongue swipes over his lips quickly. “So anyways—” Harry quickly looks away when he catches Y/N’s eye, turning his attention back to the audience of wedding guests. “I suppose I’m the one to thank for this marriage, because if I hadn’t pushed Laure to come to America, she would never have met Jo.” An easygoing smile pulls at his pink lips as the crowd laughs lightly. “And now, Laure…you’re at that same place again.  A new beginning.  Except this time, you’re not alone.  You managed to find something that most of us…” Harry hesitates again. “Most of us spend our entire lives searching for, and when we find it, we manage to f—screw it up.” His eyes flicker to Laure’s grandmother when he catches the curse word, and Y/N hides a small laugh behind her champagne glass. “But you didn’t. You and Jo…you’re lucky.  You figured out what you wanted, and you didn’t let anything—fear, anxiety, or your…your own pride—” Harry swallows hard, his eyes flickering to Y/N once more, and the glance makes her skin burn beneath her dress. “—stop you.  You’re both an inspiration to all of us.  I love you two.  To Jo and Laure!”

Y/N murmurs the toast with the rest of the crowd, raising her glass of champagne and draining it as her head spins with Harry’s words.  A waiter walks by and quickly refills the glass, grazing by Harry as he makes his way back to his seat on Laure’s right side.  Y/N barely gives herself a moment to catch his unreadable emerald eyes before she stands, carefully picking up the hem of her dress as she walks to the podium. It’s her turn now.

Stepping up to the microphone, Y/N clears her throat, resting her free hand against the wood to steady herself. “Thank you, Harry, that was…lovely.” Y/N begins, allowing herself one more stolen look at him.  His brow is furrowed, hands folded together over the cream tablecloth as his eyes focus on her.

“My name is Y/N, and I’m the maid of honour.  Jo and I have been best friends since the first day of kindergarten, when she punched a boy in the nose for me, which, funnily enough, wasn’t the last time she’d have to do that.” A laugh rolls through the room, and Y/N gives an endeared look to Jo’s sheepish grin before turning to face the wedding guests again. “I’ve had the good fortune of having her on my side from day one, and…I know just how lucky that makes me.  There’s so many times where I’d…I wouldn’t have been able to handle what life threw at me if I didn’t have Jo with me.  She’s kind, and compassionate, and fiery, and just…the very best person I know. And if you know her, then I’m sure you’d agree.”

Y/N takes a moment to breathe, her parched tongue swiping quickly over her lips. “I’ve, um, I’ve never been a perfect person.  I’ve never been very good at…articulating what I feel, or—or making a hard choice. I’ve always followed a safer path, out of…fear, I suppose.” Not for the first time since she began talking, Y/N’s eyes travel to Harry.  He still has the same stoic expression over his features, but his eyes…she can tell he’s hanging on every word she’s saying, and is analyzing every syllable.

“But Jo has never done that.” Y/N continues, shaking her gaze from Harry to settle on her best friend. “Even when she’s been afraid, she’s pushed forward, usually dragging me along with her.  And it’s a good thing she has, because I wouldn’t have half the stories I have now if not for her.” Y/N cracks a smile. “But she just—when Jo loves you, you know it. She never hesitates to tell anyone. She never worries about it being too much.  She has the biggest heart, and if you’re lucky—really lucky—she’ll keep you inside it. And I used to worry about her, because in my mind, that was dangerous.  Being so open was so terrifying to me, I was certain that it would backfire for Jo.  And then she met Laure.”

Although it’s a struggle, Y/N manages to train her eyes on Laure without letting them travel to Harry. “Laure and Jo may seem different on the surface, but they both share giant hearts. And their differences balance each other out so perfectly.  You two—I never really believed in soul mates until I saw the two of you together.” Y/N admits, biting down hard on her lip when she catches Harry shifting in his chair from the corner of her eye. “But the way you two know each other, and speak to each other, and love each other…anyone who sees it can’t help but know that you’re meant for each other.  That you’ve been meant for each other since the beginning of time. Every choice you made, every path you took—all of it led you two to each other, because that’s what was destined to happen.  You—” Y/N’s voice catches in her throat, and she takes a moment to compose herself before speaking again. “You’re going to be happy together, because you were meant to be.  It’s as simple as that.”

Y/N knows that she can’t say anything else without beginning to unravel, so she simply raises her champagne glass in the air, deciding it’s best to leave it at that. “To Jo and Laure.”

Above the echoes of the wedding guests, Y/N can hear Harry’s unmistakable voice.

…

“‘She’s like the wind…through my tree’…”

With her champagne glass raised to her lips, Y/N pensively watches as Jo and Laure turn to the music in each other’s arms, holding one another close as the voice of Patrick Swayze drifts through the speakers.  When the pair had originally told Y/N that they wanted to dance to a song from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack for their first dance, Y/N had laughed at the choice.  Now, however, as she watches Laure brush back a strand of hair from Jo’s face, her lips drifting down to whisper something in her new wife’s ear, Y/N has to admit that the song is the perfect choice for them.

“They look happy, don’t they?”

Y/N recognizes Harry’s voice, not needing to turn her head away from the couple on the dance floor to know that he’s moved from his chair three seats down.  Although the feeling of his warm breath on her neck is enough to make her shudder, as well as bring back memories of the nights they spent together, Y/N does her best to keep herself composed.

“They do.” She agrees after a moment, setting her fluted glass down on the table.  She keeps her fingers around the base, gently gliding them over the smooth crystal absentmindedly as she finally turns her head just enough to catch a sight of Harry.

He’s moved himself to Jo’s chair, with one hand braced against the table and one hand lightly settled on the back of Y/N’s seat.  He removed his suit jacket after his speech, but his waist coat is still buttoned properly, despite the sleeves of his dress shirt now being rolled to his elbows, exposing his tattoos.  His face is just as pensive as it’s been all day, but there’s some sort of change that Y/N can’t quite put a finger on.  There’s less of a guard in his emerald eyes, she thinks, before turning her attention back to the dance floor.

“Do you…” Harry licks his lips once, swiping a hand through his carefully styled curls before brushing over the back of his neck. “Would you like to dance?  With me?”

Y/N’s movements against the crystal flute pause.  That question was the last thing she expected him to ask. “I…” Clearing her throat, she keeps her eyes focused on the swaying of Jo and Laure. “I don’t know.”

A vibration on the back of Y/N’s chair lets her know that Harry’s tapping his fingers against it, the pattern familiar after watching him play the same rhythm on the steering wheel for five days. “You don’t have to, so—don’t feel like you have to say yes.  But I just…I don’t know.  I thought it would be nice.”

Yes, Y/N thinks wistfully, pursing her lips slightly at the nervous tone in Harry’s voice.  It would be nice.  To be wrapped in his arms again, his body close enough that she can feel the pounding of his heart beneath his formal clothing.  To feel his calloused hands within her own again, and resting on her waist, pulling her closer to himself with every passing moment…

“It…” Y/N glances down for a moment, fixing a crease in her dress with careful attentiveness. “It would be nice, yeah.  Until we try ripping each other’s throats out in the middle of the wedding.”

The joke is only half a joke, and Harry’s laugh is only half in amusement. “I didn’t really plan on that.”

“Well, it seems that things we don’t plan on keep happening, so…” As the music begins to fade out, Y/N finally turns her head to look at Harry straight on. “That’s not really a reassuring statement.”

A flicker of irritation flits through Harry’s eyes, a sight that’s become familiar in all her years of knowing him. “It was a simple question, Y/N.  Do you want to dance or not?”

As Y/N’s own irritation escalates, she knows that she should say no.  The best thing for her to do right now would be to distance herself from Harry, to get some space to clear her head, and to keep herself from making a scene.  Whatever there is to talk about—if there even is something they need to talk about—can be done at a later date, preferably not in the middle of a wedding.  And yet—

“Fine.” Y/N finished off her champagne glass, setting it back down on the table gingerly as a new song begins to drift through the speakers.  “Let’s go.”

Harry stands from his seat first, extending a hand to Y/N to help her up.  Although she’s wary, she takes it, the sensation of his cool rings against her own fingers growing more and more familiar with each moment she spends touching them.  

A few more couples have joined Jo and Laure on the dance floor now, and Y/N and Harry fit right in as he leads her to the center, keeping her hand held firmly in his own as his free hand finds her waist.  Y/N rests her own hand on his shoulder, gripping his sturdy frame carefully.

“‘Is love so fragile…and the heart so hollow’…”

The song, Y/N realizes, doing her best to focus on anything but the way Harry’s gaze is locked onto her with a frightening intensity, is one that she’s heard a few times over their road trip together.  The beat of the song is as familiar as a memory as the two of them sway to it, their motions careful and controlled.

“‘You’re saying I’m fragile; I try not to be…I search only for something I can’t see’…”

Harry’s hand on her waist, Y/N can’t help but notice, is so much more unsure than it was a few nights ago, when he pulled her close on top of the bar.  When he guided her movements in a way that was so much more frenzied than he’s doing now, and in a way that she misses.  She’s missed it, that breathless feeling.  The feeling of not knowing what’s coming next, and being enthralled by the unknown of it all.

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today…give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirking up ever so slightly lets Y/N know that he’s listening just as intently to the lyrics as she is, and has the same events and memories floating through his head.  His hand begins to get braver, tightening his grasp on her as his hand begins to rub gently over her hip.

“Harry…” His name slips from Y/N’s lips involuntarily as she meets his jade eyes in question.  From the corner of her eye, she can see Laure and Jo watching the two of them as they dance, whispering into each other’s ears like girls gossiping in a school hallway. “What—?”

“Sh.” The sound is soft as it falls past Harry’s red lips, the crease between his brow slackening slightly as he sighs. “Just…don’t speak.  Not right now.”

“‘You in the moonlight…with your sleepy eyes…could you ever love a man like me’…”

The request is easy enough, but Y/N can’t make herself listen to it as she cocks her head to the side, the furrow of her own brow matching Harry’s. “Why?”

“‘And you were right…when I walked into your house…I knew I’d never want to leave’…”

The breath that Harry sucks in is mostly taken through his teeth, his lips pursing immediately after as he contemplates his answer. “I just want to…remember this moment. Properly remember it, before tonight ends, and we…”

“‘Sometimes I’m a strong man…sometimes cold and scared’…”

“…We go our separate ways.” Harry finally finishes, his eyes shifting to the floor as he pulls Y/N even closer to his chest.  Her elbow is completely bent to her body as her fingers drift further from his shoulder, moving closer to where the slope of his neck begins.

Although the explanation makes sense, the thought of going a separate way from Harry catches Y/N’s breath in her throat, so much so that she can barely choke out a reply. “Okay.” She manages, the lump in her throat growing with every passing second.

“‘Lovers forever face to face…my city your mountains…stay with me stay’…”

Eyes drifting closed of their own accord, Y/N leans her head forward, settling her cheek into the curve of Harry’s shoulder.  The smell of his cologne lingers in the fabric of his emerald waistcoat, intoxicating her further with every breath she takes.

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today’…”

Something warm and soft presses against the top of Y/N’s head, and she knows that it’s Harry’s own cheek resting against her.  A gentle sigh falls from his mouth, and Y/N feels every moment of it, from the rise and fall of his chest against hers to the breath of air that blows slowly from his lips.  She memorizes the motions, something for her to play in her head again later when she’s alone on a plane back to L.A., where her regular life is waiting for her. Where Brant is waiting for her.

“‘Give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

Y/N quickly lifts a finger to her eye, wiping away the moisture that’s pooling on her lash line before returning her grip to Harry’s shoulder. “If I said…” She hesitates, taking the time to choose her words carefully.  She needs to choose them carefully. “If I said that I loved every moment of the road trip…would you believe me?”

“‘Lovers forever face to face…my city your mountains…stay with me stay’…”

Harry squeezes her hand in his own, his entire body tightening in response to her words, and for a moment, Y/N fears that she’s overstepped.  An apology is already forming in her mouth, about to spill from her tongue, when Harry’s response cuts her off, his voice hesitant and anxious and so quiet that she almost can’t make out the words.

“If I said that I loved every moment I’ve ever spent with you, and not just these last five days, would you believe me?”

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today’…”

Y/N’s eyes snap open, her head quickly lifting from Harry’s shoulder to look at him with wide and astonished eyes.  Although the struggle is written clearly upon his face, he doesn’t shy his eyes away from hers, and instead holds her gaze as the voice of Stevie Nicks continues to croon over the speakers.

“‘Give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

As the music fades out, another song begins to fade in, increasing the tempo and causing the other couples around them to break apart and mill around the dance floor.  Only Y/N and Harry stay pressed together, stuck in a bubble of all their own, frozen in a moment of change, and unable to move forward or back in the same way they once had.

Over the fabric of her dress, Y/N can feel Harry’s thumb brushing against her hip, sending electrifying pulses throughout her body.  A loose curl has fallen from his styled hair into the path of his eyes, dusting over his eyelashes lightly as he blinks.  Did she believe him, she wonders?  Could she believe him?

“Can we…” Her mouth is dry when she tries to respond, and she licks her lips quickly, noticing how Harry’s eyes flicker to follow the motion. “Can we discuss this after the wedding? I just—I don’t want to take attention away from Jo and Laure—”

“Yeah.” Harry nods roughly, his hand squeezing hers one last time before he slowly drops it, stepping back from her with great care.  Y/N has to bite her tongue to stop herself from whining in protest.

“Yeah.” Harry repeats the word as he fixes his hair, his eyes drifting from hers. “We can discuss it later.”

…

Later, after Jo and Laure cut the cake, after each of them danced with their parents; later, after the staff members began to clear the plates from every table, after everyone waved goodbye to Jo and Laure as their car drove off to the honeymoon cottage snuggled further up the mountain side; later, after guests began to depart in their own cars; later, after Harry snagged a bottle of merlot from the kitchen, after Y/N slipped off her heels during the walk back to her cabin, the feeling of the ground beneath her feet oddly comforting; later, after Y/N opened the door, allowing Harry to step in first before following…

Later is each of them standing in the kitchen, still in their formal clothes, more disheveled than they were at the start of the day, as Y/N opens the cupboard and reaches for the two largest wine glasses she can find.

“Here.” She sets them down on the counter, allowing Harry to fill them to the brim with the crimson liquid. He pushes a nearly full glass towards her before taking the other in his hand, each of them bringing the glasses to their lips for a long drink.

Harry is nervous, and Y/N can tell.  She’s gotten a bit better at reading him over their journey together, and she can see the anxiety that’s running through him in his body language.  However, although the tapping of his fingers, the rubbing of his lips, and the crease between his brow is a major indication, she knows the real reason she’s aware of Harry’s nerves is because she’s hyper aware of her own.

“You, uh—” Harry clears his throat quietly, the action half reflex, half habit. “You looked really pretty today.  Beautiful, actually.”

A light flush heats Y/N’s cheeks, both from the wine and his compliment. “Thank you.” She murmurs, glancing down at her forest coloured dress. “I’m just glad the dress survived the car.”

A chuckle falls from Harry’s lips as he lifts his wine glass again. “Yeah.  A real miracle, huh?”

Y/N taps her fingers anxiously against the kitchen island, the coolness of the countertop a nice contrast to her heated skin. “Well, considering all the things that didn’t survive…” She trails off, watching as Harry’s face falls when the meaning of her words washes over him.

Still, Harry steels his shoulders, resolve painting itself over his pained features. “You mean us, yeah?” His tone is blunt and to the point. “After we…?”

“I just—what the fuck was that, Harry?” Y/N asks, her voice every bit as exasperated and exhausted as she feels. “I thought we—and then you—and now, saying you—you’ve always…?”

“I know I’ve been—I know I fucked up.” Harry drops his head, shame clear in his voice as he twists a ring around one of his fingers. “I know that, Y/N.  I’m so sorry—”

“I’m just so confused, Harry.  Really, I—” The words spill out of her now, faster than they ever have. “I know we were drunk when we fucked, but I…I liked it.  And the next morning felt so good, and so right, and then Brant called, and it was like…a switch flipped inside you.  And you called us a mistake.  So I just—I don’t understand how you could say that less than forty-eight hours ago, and then tell me you’ve always loved being around me tonight.”

Harry’s tongue swipes over his lips once before he inhales slowly, collecting and preparing himself for the conversation. “I’m sorry.” He says lowly, his accent thicker with remorse. “I didn’t want to—I felt like it was a mistake, but not because of anything you did.  It was because I knew that I had feelings for you, and I knew that you didn’t have feelings for me.”

The admission of his feelings was clear in his speech before he actually spoke the words, but the verbal acknowledgement of them still leaves an ache in Y/N’s chest as she refutes the statement. “You didn’t know that!” She says hotly, her hand tightening around her glass with every breath. “You wouldn’t let us talk about it, so how could you know?”

“Because Brant called!” While Harry’s voice doesn’t raise in volume, it does in intensity. “Brant called, and asked you to dinner, and you said yes!”

“What, did you want me to break things off with him right then and there?  Over the phone?” Y/N demands, an incredulous look on her face as she appraises Harry. “I’m not a bitch, Harry.  That would be heartless, and I’m not—I don’t want to hurt anyone. And maybe, maybe, it would be different if I felt anything for Brant, anything that was even a fraction of what I’ve felt for you, the good and the bad, but I don’t!”

Y/N’s words hang heavy in the air between them, flickering through the room like the dim light of the light fixture above them.  There’s just enough light, however, that she can watch as her words roll over Harry, sinking into every pore of his body until all the defiance rolls out of him.

“What—” His voice cracks with emotion, and he takes a moment to compose himself before he tries again. “What do you feel for me?”

Turning her eyes down to her wine, she raises the glass to her lips, draining more than half of it in one swift motion.  When she speaks again, her voice is slick with the liquor. “What does it matter?” She asks softly. “If you couldn’t believe it enough to not try to push me away the moment I let myself be vulnerable?”

“It wasn’t—your vulnerability wasn’t apparent to me.” Harry lifts the wine bottle automatically, refilling Y/N’s glass with merlot. “It was mine that scared me.  Brant called, and you spoke to him, and I felt like—it was like that first date all over again, when you gave your attention to that guy from your class.  I felt…” Staring into his own wine, Harry mulls over his words as if the liquor can reveal the perfect thing to say. “I felt like a jealous teenager again, like a proper idiot.  And I—you’ve always been so much more put together than me, and refined, and steady, and Brant clearly fits into your world neatly, so I—”

“Stop fucking doing that.” Y/N’s voice is as sharp as ice, as harsh as frostbite. “How many times can we prove to each other that we’re more than our projections of the last seven years?  How many times until it sticks?”

Harry studies Y/N’s face, his emerald eyes scanning over every slope and curve of her expression before he replies. “I didn’t think you felt anything for me.  I’m still not…sure…”

“Harry, I feel—I feel everything with you.” Y/N’s voice drops to a hushed whisper, as if what she’s admitting is top secret. “I feel like I can be myself.  I can be as stupid or serious as I need to be, and you’ll just…accept it.  The only person I’ve ever felt that with before is Jo.  No one else.  And it—it’s terrifying, but good, and then you pushed me away again, and that fucking hurt.  You have the ability to hurt me now, and the moment you got it, you did.”

“I didn’t know.” Harry mumbles the words, rubbing his hand over his flushed cheeks slowly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.  If I’d known—”

“But you didn’t even ask. You can’t do that, okay?” When Y/N looks up at him, she can see the vulnerability on her face reflected in Harry’s eyes. “Please.  I don’t care if you get jealous, or angry, or—or anything else that’s as irritating as I know you can be—” A soft snort echoes from Harry. “Just be honest with me. Tell me.  Ask me.”

“What about…” Harry reaches across the kitchen island, taking Y/N’s hand in his own and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “What I said to you earlier?  I told you how I felt.   And I asked what you feel for me.  Can you be honest with me about that?”

“I can.” Y/N says carefully, pursing her lips for a moment. “I…I’m not sure if I’m ready to say something as…decisive as you do.  I’ve never really—I know that I feel…more intensely for you than I ever have for anyone else.  I just don’t know…how intense, or…I can’t describe it.”

“Maybe I can help.” Harry tugs gently on Y/N’s arm, bringing her around the kitchen island to his side of the room.  With his hand still holding hers, he leads her to the couch, sitting down and pulling her with him.  He’s mindful of the skirt of her dress, fixing it carefully so that it doesn’t get caught beneath her. “To me, love is…wanting to be near the other person. Do you want to be near me?”

Y/N nods softly. “I do.” She whispers into the darkness, the cabin quiet save for their breathing and the chirping of crickets outside.

“And what about…” Harry lifts a hand to caress her face, his calloused fingers gentle against her warm skin as he brushes over her cheekbone. “This?  Do you like being touched by me?”

Y/N’s skin burns beneath his touch. “I do.  A lot, actually.”

“And even when we were arguing…when we weren’t speaking to each other, and wouldn’t look at each other…” Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, the motion staining his lips an even darker pink than they were before. “Did you want me as badly as I wanted you?”

Harry’s other hand begins to rub Y/N’s thigh over her dress, still heating her skin even with the layers of fabric preventing actual contact.  Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the sensation. “Yes.” She breathes, leaning her head against the back of the couch. “I did.  I still do.”

“Obviously, I…I’d like it if you could know exactly how you feel, but…” Harry shrugs slightly, his hand drifting down to rest on the side of Y/N’s neck. “I know that it’s different for you.  You’re not used to it.  You don’t have to put a label on it, yeah?  I just want you to be comfortable with me.  As long as you’re mine, you can take as long as you need to express how you feel.”

Relief spreads through Y/N’s body at Harry’s words.  The freedom to take her time, to feel like she doesn’t need to have all the answers right away, is something that none of her past partners have ever offered her, and a familiar sensation begins to curl itself around Y/N’s core as Harry caresses her neck. “Yours?” She repeats slowly, her senses feeling like they’re processing through molasses. “Am I yours?”

“I’d like you to be.” The corner of Harry’s pink lip pulls up, but there’s an air of anxiety in his words. “Are you?”

The fabric of her dress swishes beneath Y/N as she pulls herself into Harry’s, managing to settle one knee of either side of him beneath the layers of tulle. “I am.” She murmurs, her hands wrapping themselves around his sturdy shoulders.  Their noses bump together as she moves closer, breath mingling in the small space between their lips. “I’ll be yours.”

Harry’s breath washes over her as he sighs gently, the fragrance of merlot and champagne settling on the back of her tongue. “Laure and Jo will be happy.”

A small laugh, mostly an exhale of breath more than anything else, sounds from Y/N as she twists the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck between her fingers. “Mmm.  Probably because they won’t have to break up any more fights.”

“No, no, we’ll still fight. It keeps things interesting.” Harry’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, his nose brushing over Y/N’s once more as he tilts his head to the side. “We’ll just have a lot more fun when we make up with each other.”

Harry’s fingers find the bare expanse of Y/N’s back between the straps of her dress, gliding his fingertips over her warm skin.  The sensation of his cool touch against her sends a shiver up her spine, and she twists herself closer to him in return, but keeps the inch gap between their lips. There’s an anticipation between them, but also a stubbornness.  A refusal to be the first one to break.

“A lot more fun?” Y/N questions, massaging the tips of her fingers into Harry’s scalp.  She lets her painted nails scratch along him gently, just enough to make his eyelids flutter at the sensation. “What exactly do you mean?”

“I could tell you…” Harry purrs his words, pressing his head back into the palm of her hand. “Or I could show you.  It’s up to you.”

His words offer Y/N a choice.  Will she continue to push him?  Or will she give in?

When her hands retreat from his hair, Harry whines quietly, his half lidded eyes staring up at her in confusion.  Y/N braces herself against his shoulders as she carefully removes herself from his lap, picking up the fabric of her dress with one hand while grabbing the half empty bottle of wine with the other.

Harry watches as she takes a step backwards, her eyes glued to his as she appraises him.  As comfortable—and as attractive—as he looks on the couch with his emerald slack covered legs spread, sleeves half rolled up, chest heaving from their close contact, Y/N needs him somewhere else.

Harry’s tongue glides slowly over his parted lips as Y/N raises the bottle of wine to her mouth, taking a small sip before turning on her heel and walking to the staircase that leads up to the master bedroom of the cabin.  She only gets two steps up the stairs before she feels Harry’s hot breath on the back of her neck, his back and arms bracing against her as she climbs slowly.  With one hand still holding her dress out of her way, Y/N steps over the summit of the stairs, not waiting for Harry before she makes her way to the bedroom.

The bedroom itself has been tidied by the hotel staff since Y/N last saw it, and she’s never been more thankful for it; she and Jo had left it in a mess in their efforts to get ready that morning.  Instead, the staff have perfectly made the bed, complete with all the decorative pillows that Y/N had tossed onto the floor the night before, set fresh candles on the night tables and dresser, and left carefully rolled white towels on the edge of the bed.

A pair of tattooed arms wrap around Y/N’s waist, and a smile lights up her face as she falls back into Harry’s strong chest. “Your room is lovely.  Much nicer than those motels.” He rasps in her ear, teeth just barely grazing her lobe as he speaks. “Do you have a lighter for the candles?”

“You want to light candles?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she drops her dress from her hand in order to trail her fingers over Harry’s wrist. “That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

Pressing a light kiss to her neck, Harry shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He murmurs. “We were so rushed last time.  I want to enjoy tonight.”

A smile creeps over Y/N’s face as she carefully unlaces Harry’s hands from her waist. “The lighter is in the bedside table, on the left.”

As Harry turns his attention to searching through the drawer, Y/N sets the wine down on the dresser, appraising her reflection in the mirror propped on top of it.  She begins to unpin the hair that had been carefully styled that morning, her hair only a fraction as put together as it had been. Setting the pins down on the wood surface in front of her, she takes her time taking off her earrings and bracelets, her eyes following Harry’s movements in the mirror.

The broad expanse of his back is still covered by his green waistcoat, rumpled as it stretches over the slope of his body.  With each movement, a new flicker of candlelight begins to glow in front of him, illuminating the silhouette of his body with soft flickers of orange and yellow.

“You’re a bit of a romantic, aren’t you?” The question slips from Y/N’s lips before she’s turned around completely to watch Harry’s actions without the aid of the mirror. “You like this sort of thing—the candles, the cabin in the forest, coming from a wedding…”

Harry’s body shakes as a laugh rolls through him, his side profile barely visible as he turns to light another candle next to the bed. “I suppose I am, yeah.  Are you not?”

Y/N gives half a shrug, tucking her now loose hair behind her ears as best she can. “I don’t know. I’ve never really considered myself one…never saw the point in grand gestures.  They’re not very realistic.”

“They don’t have to be realistic.  That’s why it’s a grand gesture.” Harry says easily, sauntering towards her with a dimpled grin on his face.  He reaches carefully behind Y/N, his thumb flicking the lighter to spark as he tilts the candle towards the flame. “And I’d hardly call candles a grand gesture. Haven’t you ever been properly romanced?”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she contemplates the question. “Not…really? I mean, there’s been a few things, but nothing…I don’t know.  We were always busy—”

“You can always make time for someone if you want to.” Harry sets the lit candle back down on the dresser, repeating the motion with two more before setting the lighter down as well. “Hasn’t Brant ever—well, I know he hasn’t, actually—” A snort leaves Harry’s mouth as he begins to run his hands over Y/N’s bare shoulders, massaging the skin gently. “Haven’t any of your exes asked you what you wanted, or…done something spontaneous for you, like a surprise gift, or trip, or…?”

Harry trails off as he registers the expression on Y/N’s face, and feels the tensing of her shoulders beneath his hands. “Um, not really.” She says, doing her best to keep her tone light. “We were always very…scheduled.  A surprise trip wasn’t really feasible.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth tugs down into a frown, his hands continuing to work over the knots in Y/N’s shoulders as he turns her around.  He presses himself behind her, moving her hair to one side of her neck before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her spine. “The more we speak, the more I see why you’re so guarded, love.” He murmurs, his tone carefully controlled. “You don’t need to be like that with me.  If you’re…afraid of what I’ll think, or…you know I tease you, but you’re always fine with me.  We can be serious—”

“No.” Y/N shakes her head adamantly, glancing at Harry over the curve of her own shoulder as she rests one hand over his own. “I don’t want to be serious.  I’m so sick of being serious.” She maneuvers Harry’s hand to her back as she speaks, guiding his fingers until they find the zipper of her dress. “I like that you tease me, and aren’t afraid to irritate me, and how you care enough to listen to what I say…”

The sound of her zipper slowly being tugged down pricks Y/N’s ears, and she watches Harry’s movement in the mirror.  There’s a clear look of concentration painted onto his expression as he helps remove her dress, but the moment he catches her eye, he locks into her gaze.  As he finishes pulling down the zipper, he keeps his emerald eyes glued to hers in the reflective surface, his stare becoming more and more hypnotic with every passing second.

“So what you’re saying is…” Harry’s lips brush against her ear as he leans closer to her, pressing a sensual kiss right over her pulse point. “You want me to romance you, but still annoy the shit out of you?”

Although it’s breathless, the sound that leaves Y/N’s mouth is unmistakably a laugh as Harry begins to trail kisses down her neck, slipping the strap of her dress down her shoulder. “Yes. It’s oddly endearing.”

“Oddly endearing is my middle name.” Harry’s laugh matches hers as his hands continue their task of removing her clothing.  Once Y/N’s straps are free of her shoulders, Harry helps her step out of the hunter green dress, carefully maneuvering the full skirt to the corner chair without creasing it.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty dress, now would—” Harry freezes mid sentence as he turns back around, his mouth falling slack as if seeing Y/N for the first time.

Despite having been naked and underneath his body less than forty eight hours ago, Y/N crosses her arms over her body.  The black teddy bodysuit she’d purchased to wear under her bridesmaid dress had, at the time of purchase, been more for practicality than anything.  The underwire of the strapless bra supported by the corseted middle was comfortable enough to keep her properly situated in her dress without a wardrobe malfunction, as well as serving as a barrier between Y/N’s sensitive skin and the stitched seams of the gown.  It’s not until this moment, with Harry staring at her with a hungry stupor in his eyes, does Y/N realize how racy the undergarment is.

“What?” She says after a moment, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice. “I—it’s not like you haven’t seen me before.”

The nerves woven into her tone are enough to snap Harry from his thoughts. “This is…different.” He approaches her again, his steps slow and measured as he lays a hand on her lace covered side. “I was pissed last time I had you…didn’t get to properly take in the sight of you…” Harry scratches his nails over one of the mesh panels, his jade eyes darkening another shade once more.

“I didn’t get to enjoy you, either.  And yet you’re still fully clothed.” Y/N begins to fiddle with the buttons of Harry’s emerald waistcoat, working them open one by one as she forces herself to steady her breathing. “That’s not very fair, is it?”

“I suppose it’s not. Not fair at all.” Harry allows her to pull his waistcoat from his body, and it’s not until Y/N reaches the third button of his button down shirt that she realizes how much he’s enjoying her undressing him.

Every breath that Harry takes is ragged and shallow, his chest heaving with the effort to keep himself controlled as Y/N’s fingers trail down the exposed skin of his chest.  The sight of Harry’s throat tightening as her nails scrape his skin is too much for her to resist, and she quickly attaches her lips to the base of his neck as she pulls the now unbuttoned shirt from his body.

Swiping her tongue over the new mark at the base of his throat, Y/N manages to pull a moan from Harry, and her lips pull back into a small smile against his hot skin at the sound. “You sound really nice when you do that.” She murmurs, her hand trailing down to his belt as she speaks.

She can feel Harry swallow again, and when he replies, his voice is as low as she’s ever heard it. “Then you’ll have to make me do it more, won’t you, pet?” His eyes are blown darker with lust as he grips Y/N’s hips tight, pressing the pads of his fingers into her flesh. “Are you going to give me moans that are just as pretty?  Or am I going to have to pull them from your stubborn little mouth?”  

Y/N’s breath hitches in her chest at his dominant tone, her mouth falling open in a gasp against Harry’s collar bones.  She can feel the vibrations of his laugh in her lips, the tingle not unlike the burning she feels in her core, and Harry’s hand travels from her hips to her chin as the burning increases.

“Cat got your tongue, hm?” Harry grips Y/N’s chin between his thumb and forefinger as she fumbles with his belt, the action clumsier without her looking at her movements. “Don’t get all shy now, m’love.  It’s just me. We’ve been here before.”

Pulling his belt from his dress pants, Y/N tosses it to the side, her fingers resting on the warm skin of Harry’s abdomen. “I know.  It just feels different now, that’s all.  After everything we said, and…” Her eyes are unable to hold his as she drifts off, and she drops her gaze to his swallow tattoos as her cheeks redden.

A gentle tap on her chin brings her eyes back to meet Harry’s intense gaze. “I know it feels different, but that’s not bad.” Harry’s voice softens as his thumb begins to stroke over her skin, the motion slow and gentle. “It can be really good, actually. I told you, I can properly enjoy you now.  If you’ll let me, that is.  It’s up to you.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip as she reaches behind her back.  Her fingers quickly find the laces at the back of the garment, and she pulls the tie undone slowly, making sure to keep her eyes locked with Harry’s the entire time. “I want that.  I want you, Harry.  I want…all of you.”

She barely has her laces undone before Harry is grasping at her hips, pulling her body tight against his again for another desperate kiss.  His lips glide between hers smoothly, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle before he lets his teeth nip at her bottom lip, tugging at the flesh in a hungry way.  With her lingerie hanging loosely off her body, Harry easily yanks the material down her body, fully exposing Y/N’s breasts and stomach.  

The sight of her exposed skin is enough to grab Harry’s attention from the removal of clothing, and he leaves the lace bodysuit hanging at her hips as his kisses begin to travel down her jaw, her neck, her collar bones, to her breasts.  A breathless gasp falls from Y/N’s mouth as Harry’s open mouthed kisses become wetter and longer, until his hot mouth is wrapped around her stiff nipple.

“Harry—” Y/N tangles a hand in his already ruined curls, yanking hard at his hair as his teeth scrape against her sensitive skin. “God, be careful—”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Harry murmurs the phrase against her breast, barely pulling his mouth off enough to speak.  His eyes, although half lidded with lust, flicker up to her with a playful look. “Y’really want me to be careful, pet?  Or do you want me to devour you?”

His words send another flood of heat to her core, and it takes all of Y/N’s focus to keep herself standing upright. “Shut up.” She mutters, voice pitched higher than normal as she tugs on Harry’s hair again, half in need and half to solicit a groan from him.

The groan he emits, however, just adds more sensation to his teasing as the sound causes a vibration against her nipple, and Y/N barely manages to pull Harry away from her before her knees buckle.

Harry, however, wastes no time, and it’s only the moment after Y/N pulls him off of her that he’s kissing her again, teeth clacking against teeth as he backs her up towards the bed.  When the back of her legs hits the mattress, Y/N stumbles back, but Harry catches her in time to lower her gently to the bed.

There’s an unmistakable tenderness in the movement, and the action catches Y/N right in the throat. “Thought you weren’t being careful?” Despite her ribbing tone, Y/N’s voice is breathless as she settles back into the soft sheets. “Isn’t that what you just said, pet?”

A growl rips from the back of Harry’s throat as he cages himself over her shaking body, his mouth already reattached to her chest to leave a fresh trail of bruises from her sternum to her abdomen. “You’re such a bloody minx, y’know that?”

Although she opens her mouth to reply, the only sound that leaves Y/N’s lips is a gasp as Harry quickly lifts her hips to pull her teddy completely off, tossing it to the side without so much as a glance.  He leaves one last bite on her lower abdomen, just hard enough to leave an imprint of his mouth, before soothing the mark with a wet swipe of his tongue over the red skin.

“Knees up, minx.” Harry’s accent is thick, dripping from his voice like honey as his hands rub her lower calves, helping to push them up on the bed until Y/N’s legs are bent and spread open in a position he likes.  The way that Harry’s tongue swipes over his lips tells Y/N of his intentions right away, and she braces herself on her elbows on the bed before pulling back.

Harry, who had been leaving open mouthed kisses along Y/N’s knees, makes a disgruntled sound at the loss of contact. “Where do y’think you’re going?” He asks in frustration, pulling himself onto the bed and crawling after her.  Gripping one of her ankles, he spreads her open again, resuming the path his mouth had been making to her core a moment ago. “Trying to get away from me?”

A breathless laugh falls from Y/N’s mouth. “More like trying to get comfortable.  It’s been so long since I’ve had someone…” Despite Harry’s position between her legs, Y/N can’t bring herself to say the words.

“Had someone what? Eat your cunt?” Harry asks crudely, raising an eyebrow as he kisses her inner thigh.  His hot breath rolls over her core, causing Y/N to sigh as she relaxes back into the sheets. “That’s a tragedy, love.  Especially when you taste so sweet.  I remember from a few nights ago…I just barely got a taste when we…”

She should know better, Y/N thinks.  She should know, now that she knows Harry well enough, that something like this is coming, especially since it’s exactly what he did last time he was between her legs. Still, when his ringed index finger runs quickly between her folds, becoming coated in her wetness just for Harry to pop it into his mouth like a satisfied and smug ass, Y/N half jumps off the bed.

“Sensitive, are you?” Harry laughs around his finger, taking great care to lick off every bit of her wetness. “Just as sensitive as you are sweet.”

Y/N struggles to prop herself up on her elbows, doing her best to give him a scathing look. “You could’ve warned me, you—”

Her complaint is cut off abruptly by Harry licking over her slit with the flat of his tongue, collecting every drop of arousal before suctioning his lips over her clit. “What was that?” He mutters between his actions, flicking his tongue over Y/N’s clit as she grasps the sheets between her fingers. “I didn’t quite catch it, love.”

Falling back onto the pillows, Y/N allows her eyes to close for just a moment as she twists the cotton sheets between her hands. “Shut—shut up.” She moans, one hand releasing the sheets to latch onto Harry’s curls.  She tugs harshly, and the moan he releases sends shivers from her core into her spine.

Although Harry laughs against her, his smirk detectable against her folds as his tongue continues to work over her, a silence falls between them as he continues to eat her out. It shouldn’t be surprising, she manages to think as she tugs on his curly locks, that Harry is giving her the best oral she’s ever received.  Everything he does to her, from irritating her, making her laugh, to pleasuring her, is so intense that it only makes sense.

Harry’s tongue dips inside Y/N’s entrance, proving that thought to be true for what seems to be the millionth time that night.  Y/N can’t help but writhe on the sheets now, her body unable to contain the pleasure that’s building inside her core like never before.

When a gasping whine echoes from Y/N, a sound she’s never even heard herself make before, one of Harry’s hands moves from its position on her thigh, where he’s been holding her open so he can continue to work.  It travels up her leg to her pelvis, pressing flat on her lower abdomen and keeping her hips secure to the bed.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you, pet?” Harry’s mouth is red, coated with her wetness when he glances at her.  He begins to rub circles on her abdomen, both soothing her and creating an ache deep inside her that she knows can only be satisfied by his cock. “You’re going to be a good girl and cum on my mouth, yeah?”

Y/N whimpers in response, barely managing to keep her eyes open as she nods desperately. “I-I need—your fingers, or—”

“No, no, pet, you don’t need that.” Harry assures her between long licks over her clit. “I’ll fill you later, but you’re going to cum from my mouth.  I know you can do it, love.  I know you can.”

“I—” Harry’s hand pressed to her abdomen is the only thing keeping Y/N from rutting her hips into the air in desperation. “Please, Harry, I—”

“You can do it.” Breath hot against her entrance, Harry dips his tongue within her again, moving it in and out slowly as his nose brushes against her sensitive bundle of nerves. “You—fuck—you’re so ready, Y/N, I know you can do it…just relax, pet…let go…”

Let go.  The command is so simple, and yet, isn’t that all Y/N’s ever wanted?  Isn’t that exactly what Harry has managed to allow her to do this entire trip?  No sooner does the thought cross her mind that Harry’s teeth graze over her clit, tweaking it ever so gently before pressing the flat of his tongue against it once more.  He gives a harsh suck, mouthing something she can’t understand, and then Y/N is tugging on his chestnut curls with a renewed desperation as she falls over the brink of pleasure.

“Harry, Harry, Harry…” His name is the only thing Y/N can repeat as she orgasms, her head falling back against the pillows while the waves of her pleasure wash over her.

Harry untangles her hand from the sheets, weaving his fingers through her own to give her something solid to hold onto as she loses herself in the sensations.  Although he keeps his mouth pressed to her, his actions are gentler, just licking the wetness that drips from her entrance as she rides out her orgasm.

It takes a few moment for the pleasure to recede enough that Y/N can become aware of her surroundings again. Chest heaving, she lolls her head to the side, her hand falling from Harry’s curls and onto the crumpled sheets.

Harry finally pulls away from her then, pulling himself from between her legs to the side of Y/N’s shaking body.  He licks his wet lips, savouring the last drops of her arousal before pressing softer kisses to her stomach, her sternum, her collar bones, until he reaches her lips.

“You alright, love?” Harry asks, voice quiet in the hum of the night as he settles beside her.  He brushes a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead, and the motion is so gentle that Y/N almost tears up. “Just take some deep breaths.”

“I—” Y/N sucks in another breath as Harry wraps an arm around her stomach. “I’m alright.  Just…trying to catch my breath.” She laughs nervously as her cheeks redden in a post-orgasm haze. “You’re, uh, you’re really good at that.”

Harry’s laugh is much more amused than hers. “Thank you.  I quite enjoy it, so it would be rather sad if I wasn’t good at it.”

“That’s true.” Y/N hums, rolling her head onto Harry’s shoulder.  He rubs small circles on her waist, and the action gives her something to focus on as she evens her breathing.

Harry sighs in satisfaction. “You know, if you had shagged Brant, I doubt his cunnilingus skills would have been as good as mine.” He says thoughtfully, as if he’s been pondering the idea for a while.

Y/N groans, bracing her hand against is muscled chest to shove him away. “Do not mention Brant while I’m lying next to you naked!  Christ, I shouldn’t have to say that!”

Harry laughs as he readjusts himself, pulling his body over hers while his lips work against her neck. “I’m sorry.  I won’t bring him up again, I swear.”

Huffing slightly, Y/N settles herself back into the sheets. “Good.”

“But for the record—”

“If you keep speaking, I’m not giving you a blowjob.” Y/N warns, shooting Harry a warning glance. “Are you prepared to give that up?”

The speed at which Harry’s face falls is almost comical.  His brow creases as his ruby lips pull down into a pout, his arms keeping himself suspended above Y/N as he relents. “Alright, I’m sorry.  Truly, I am.  I’ll stop.”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes focus on Harry’s shining green irises. “Good, because I really want to blow you.”

The crude admission catches Harry by surprise, his eyebrows jumping up in shock as he rolls to the side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he rakes a hand through his messy curls as he answers with a measured tone. “You do?”

Y/N nods slowly, pushing herself up to sit on her knees as one of her hands begins to trace over the muscles of Harry’s chest. “I do.  Like you said…I didn’t get to last time.  And I bet you taste good.”

Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth as he gives a sharp nod. “Yeah.  Okay.  If you want to—”

“I do.” Y/N presses on Harry’s chest to push him back again, but this time she does it carefully, settling him back into the sheets like he did for her.  Moving so that she’s on her knees beside him, she gives him a quick kiss, only letting herself enjoy his slightly chapped lips against hers for a moment before she directs her attention to the bulge in his Calvin Klein boxers.

Y/N trails a finger over the line of hair leading to the waistband, feeling the muscles of Harry’s abdomen contract under her finger. “Sensitive, huh?” She asks quietly, mimicking what he had said to her before earlier.

Harry inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “Yeah.  So don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.  I’m just…warming you up.” Y/N continues the motion for a moment before her fingers drift to the elastic of his boxers.  She dips a finger beneath it, continuing to tease his abdomen before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his clothed bulge.

Harry’s hips jerk in reaction, his mouth falling open as he spits out a curse. “Bloody hell…”

“Feel good?” Y/N only lifts her mouth enough so that the soft murmur can be heard.  She can feel Harry’s cock twitching as her lips move over it, and the thought that she’s turning him on enough for him to twitch in his boxers sends a flood of heat between her thighs.

“Feels really good, yeah.” Harry’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and the effort it takes to keep his voice controlled is apparent on his face. “Keep going.”

Y/N hums in response, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulling them down his legs as Harry lifts his hips.  She waits until his boxers are completely removed to turn her attention back to his cock, and the sight of it makes her mouth water.

It’s just as big as she remembers, with a slight curve along the length leading to the red and leaking head. Y/N can practically see the heat radiating off of it, she thinks, and when she wraps her hand around the base, her suspicions are confirmed.

The weak groan that falls from Harry’s cherry red lips is the only thing that keeps Y/N from getting completely distracted by admiring him.  She pumps him slowly a few times, and his length throbs in her hand as more blood floods to his pelvis.  Licking her lips once, Y/N leans down and gives a small kitten lick to the leaking tip, collecting the precum on her tongue.

A garbled moan sounds from Harry’s chest, and Y/N watches from the corner of her eye as one hand tucks into his own curls before the other gathers her hair within his fist. Although he’s holding her, he doesn’t force her down, or try to guide her motions.  He wants to see what she’s going to do of her own accord.

Y/N takes her time, licking slowly from the head of Harry’s cock to one of the pulsing veins that runs down his shaft.  She traces the line with the tip of her tongue, enjoying the sounds that the action pulls from Harry before taking the head of his cock between her lips. Mindful of her teeth, she sucks slowly, pushing herself further and further down his length until her nose is just touching his pelvis.

“That’s it, minx.” Harry moans his words, his voice breathless and strained as he cards his fingers through her hair.  His flushed chest is rising and falling prominently as Harry takes deep breath after deep breath. “Doing so well, aren’t you?”

The praise sends a wave of delight through Y/N, and she begins to bob her head faster, working what she can’t fit into her mouth with her hand.  Harry, she learns, is extremely vocal during sex, which isn’t exactly surprising now that she knows him better.  Still, his moans and whimpers are all the encouragement Y/N needs to keep her pace, slowing down only to tease him.  And she loves to tease him.

“Fuck—” A groan rips from Harry’s chest as Y/N slows her motions again, trailing her tongue up his length before focusing on his tip with great interest. “C’mon, darling, don’t be mean to me.  I wasn’t mean to you.”

“I’m just enjoying myself, Harry.” Y/N says innocently, batting her eyes at him as she kisses the head of his cock. “Don’t you want me to enjoy myself?”

The question is simple enough, but the sinful context makes Harry buck his hips into her hand. “Y’know I do, pet, but you’re torturing me…”

Y/N lifts her mouth from his length with a quiet pop as her strokes slow down. “Am I?”

“Fucking hell—” Another moan forces its way through Harry’s clenched teeth. “You won’t be laughing when I’m fucking you at the same pace you’re teasing me right now.”

Y/N’s movements stutter for the first time since she began. “What?”

“Didn’t think of that, did you, minx?  Thought you could tease me, and I wouldn’t get you back?” Although Harry’s words are domineering, he pants through them, throwing his head back against the pillow. “That—Christ—That’s not how it works.”

Speeding up her stroking of his length, Y/N leans over Harry’s body, sponging a kiss just at the corner of his lips. “You don’t mean that, Harry.  You need to fuck me just as badly as I need it.”

“You need it, do you?” Harry’s eyes snap open, lust completely clouding the jade green of his irises. “How badly?  Tell me.”

Y/N kisses him once more, pulling back the moment his tongue tries to pull her in for more.  She returns her mouth to the tip of his cock, letting her tongue flick over his slit before sucking on him again. “So badly, Harry. I’ve never felt as full as I did with you in me…”

“Oh fuck…” Harry’s words slip into drawn out moans as he tugs on his own hair, his hips stuttering up into her hand again. “Stop.”

The sudden command makes Y/N pause, and she pulls her mouth off of Harry’s length to stare up at him with wide eyes. “What?” Her hand pauses its motions, but stays wrapped loosely around his base. “Is—is everything okay?  Did I hurt you?”

The concern and fear in Y/N’s voice is enough to snap Harry out whatever headspace he had been slipping into. “No, pet, you didn’t hurt me.  I just need to be inside your tight cunt.  Can’t stand another moment without it, if I’m honest.”

The twitch of his cock in her hands confirms his words, and Y/N gives one last lick to its biggest vein before releasing him.  She keeps her mouth in use, however, by sponging kisses up Harry’s already marked chest, stopping only once she reaches his lips.

The kiss they share is passionate, with a rhythm finally established between the two of them as Harry slots his plump lips neatly between hers.  There’s no awkward turning of their heads, trying to find a way to slip a tongue into a mouth, and no teeth clicking together.  Already, each of them knows the best way to fit together, as if they were meant to all along.

“How do you—” Harry mutters the words against Y/N’s lips, his breath flowing into her own panting mouth with every gasp. “How do you want me, love?”

Y/N takes a moment to think, but only a moment. “On top.  I like…” Her cheeks flush with even more heat. “I like feeling you over me. And holding your hands…”

Harry raises a surprised brow at the confession she spills into his mouth. “My hands?”

Forehead still pressed against his, Y/N nods, picking up one of his hands and lacing his ringed fingers through her own. “Mhmm.  They’re strong, and…and they fit in mine so nicely.” Y/N glances at Harry through her lashes, shy despite having his cock in her mouth less than a minute ago.  It’s the intimacy, she realizes.  A sexual act is nothing new to her, but putting emotion behind it…

“They do fit together well, don’t they?” Harry agrees, squeezing her hand as he leans forward, pressing puckered lips to her forehead. “Alright, then.  Lie down for me.”

After Harry grabs a condom from Y/N’s bag and rolls it on, it takes a moment for the two of them to get positioned comfortably.  Y/N leans back on the rumpled sheets, fixing one of the pillows behind her head with Harry’s help.  Once he knows that she’s comfortable, Harry spreads Y/N’s legs again, situating himself between them with his arms propped up on either side of her body.

Although it’s the same position as the last time they had sex, Y/N can’t help but feel like it’s entirely different in every single aspect.  While the drunken need that she felt for Harry had been exciting, and while he had satisfied her incredibly, there’s something different about knowing that she has feelings for the man who’s so interested in pleasuring her, and that he has feelings for her in return.

Harry moves one hand to his length, rubbing the tip of it between Y/N’s soaked folds as his other hand grasps her own. “Are you ready?” He murmurs, his lips hovering just over her own.

Y/N nods quickly, squeezing his hand tightly. “Please, H.  I need it.”

The first thrust into her is slow.  Painstakingly slow.  Y/N knows that she should be appreciative of the restrain Harry has, and that she needs a moment to adjust to his size, but the way he stretches her makes her feel so complete that she can’t help but whine for more.

“Faster, Harry.” She pants, squeezing her eyes shut as he continues to enter her slick entrance. “I…”

“Sh, love.  Just spreading you open first, yeah?” The effort to control himself shows through the strain in his voice, but Harry still manages to sponge a quick kiss over her lips. “Besides…I warned you, didn’t I?  Said I’d tease you if you teased me…”

Y/N whines loudly as Harry finally bottoms out, his hips pressing flush to hers and bringing a kind of euphoric fullness that she’s never felt before. “Oh God…” She drags out her speech, her eyes barely managing to flutter open in time to catch the look on Harry’s face as he feels her walls squeeze him.

His brows are drawn together, an all too familiar crease appearing between them.  It’s a look of concentration, but the pull of his mouth and the quiet pants leaving it tell Y/N that it’s so much more than that. His pupils are blown out, dilated so much that she can barely see the green that she loves so much, and every few moments, Harry’s eyelids flutter, times perfectly with the contraction of Y/N’s pussy around his length.  

“Move, Harry.” Y/N begs, grasping his free hand and squeezing it along with his other hand. “Please.”

Her pleading sends a shiver down Harry’s spine, and he begins to thrust in and out of her slowly, letting her adjust to each pace before gradually increasing his movements. “Like that, pet?” He asks, voice low and thick with pleasure. “Is that what you wanted?”

A whine is all the answer he gets, as Y/N is so far gone past the point of being able to reply with a coherent sentence.  The only thing she can think of is how good it feels to have Harry fill her.  How the feeling of his cock inside her is simultaneously too much for her, the most content she’s ever felt, and not enough to satisfy the ache deep within her.  Every one of her senses is consumed with Harry—the touch of his skin to hers, at her pelvis, over her abdomen, his hands squeezing hers with desperation as he thrusts inside of her repeatedly.  The scent of his cologne mingled with his sweat, so hot and all consuming that the air feels thick with it.  The taste of that scent on the back of her tongue, along with his Merlot flavoured kisses that linger in her mouth.  The sight of him caged over her, his sweaty curls and flushed skin being all that she can see.  The sound of his moans, hot and low in her ear.

Everything is Harry. Had there every been a time where it wasn’t?

When Harry pulls his hands from Y/N’s, a small whimper stumbles out of her mouth, growing louder when his thrusts begin to slow and the ball of tension in her core begins to uncoil. “What—?” She begins, the question still half formed on her tongue when Harry moves his grip to her knees.

In one swift motion, Harry has her left knee over his shoulder, quickly repeating the movement with her right leg as he sponges stuttered kisses over the newly available skin.  “Need to be deeper.” He mutters, pressing a wet and breathless kiss to Y/N’s lips before sitting up for more leverage.  Weaving his fingers back through hers, Harry begins to thrust again, the head of his cock rubbing against new areas with every motion.

And oh.  It’s like an entirely new feeling.  The moans and whimpers are leaving Y/N’s mouth in a steady stream now, with any ability she had to filter her volume gone the moment Harry’s cock presses against her G-spot.

“Fuck, Harry, right there, baby—” Y/N releases one of his hands to throw her arm around his shoulder, digging her nails into the muscled skin as the words of pleasure slip past her lips. “That’s it, that’s so fucking good—”

“Yeah?” Harry grunts, bracing himself against the bed so that he can increase the speed of his movements. “You like how my cock fills you?”

Y/N nods desperately, the movement stuttered as she shakes from both her pleasure and the force of Harry driving his hips into her own. “Yeah, I—fuck, you’re going to make me cum…”

Harry’s face twists in concentration as he removes his braced hand from the bed and trails it down Y/N’s body, pausing just enough so that he can tweak her nipple as he passes by. He continues on until he reaches his destination, and settles his large thumb over her clit to rub fast and concise circles on the bundle of nerves.

“Oh—” Y/N’s back arches off the bed as her nails dig into the skin of Harry’s shoulder, as well as the back of his hand.  She barely manages to pant through her whimpered words. “Fuck, I’m going to cum—”

“Please, baby.” Harry pleads with her, his expression desperate as he stipples more kisses to Y/N’s knees, the only inches of skin that he can get his mouth on as he drives himself harder into her. “Need you to cum for me, I—fuck, minx, I need it more than you know.”

A sharp gasp falls from Y/N’s slick mouth as Harry hits her G-spot again, and the sharp repeated motion combined with his stimulation of her clit is enough to send her barrelling headfirst over the edge.  A desperate sound leaves her mouth, half moan, half whine, as the coil in Y/N’s core snaps, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of her body.  

The reaction is almost instantaneous.  As her body shakes with pleasure, abdomen contracting and releasing over and over, Y/N feels Harry’s hips begin to stutter, his movement growing sloppier as the constriction of her core works Harry to an orgasm.

“Y/N—that’s it, pet, just—yes—” Harry’s words are more coherent than hers, but still just form a string of half put together phrases as he presses himself deep inside her, his eyes snapping shut as he spills inside the condom.  A choked sound works its way out of his throat, pulling from deep within his chest, and the pads of his rough fingers dig into her thighs as he grounds himself throughout his orgasm.  

Y/N’s shuddering climax finishes before Harry’s does, and all she can do is collapse back in the sheets, enjoying the feeling of his cock throbbing inside her one last time before he pulls out slowly to clean himself and throw away the condom.  An involuntary whine, quiet but audible, falls from her lips at the empty feeling that’s left behind, but it’s soon satiated after Harry returns to the bed, wrapping his shaking arms around her and pulling her tight into his chest.

His chest, like her own, is soaked in sweat, covered in dark bruises, and heaving from the aftermath of the orgasm he’s just finished, but it’s the only place Y/N wants to be.  She presses her ear into his skin, his racing heartbeat thumping beneath her head, and she focuses on the pounding pattern as she attempts to catch her breath.

Harry speaks first, clearing his throat before his wrecked voice fills her senses. “That was…that was so fucking good.  I was worried that it wouldn’t be as good as the last time, because we were more sober, but…”

“It was better, yeah. I know.” Y/N agrees, her voice filled with exhaustion and contentment as she kisses over a purple bruise forming on Harry’s collar bone. “I think…I think knowing how we feel made it better.”

“I agree.” Harry’s hands move over her back, his fingertips tracing invisible patterns onto her sweaty skin. “Passionate sex with someone you care for with candles lit…all after the wedding of your best friend…was that romantic enough for you?” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, just barely audible beneath the rasp.

A tired smile lifts the corners of Y/N’s swollen lips. “I suppose so.  But it’s not hard to be, in comparison to others…”

“Well, from now on, you’re going to be comparing to me, yeah?” Harry shifts his arms around her, tightening his grip before reaching for the crumpled sheet to pull it over their bodies. “This’ll be the marker, I suppose.  And I’ll have to work on raising the bar with everything I do for you.”

“What about what I’ll do for you?” Y/N just barely manages to raise her head off Harry’s chest enough to look at him. “This is a two way street, you know.  I have to romance you, too.”

“Mm.  True.” Harry hums as he resumes tracing patterns on Y/N’s skin. “How about you stop making fun of my taste in romantic movies?  I’d like to watch The Notebook without you poking fun at it.  If you’re laughing at all the emotional scenes, it makes me feel pathetic when I cry at them.”

Y/N laughs quietly as she rakes her fingers through Harry’s sweaty curls. “That’s asking too much from me. How about…I can still make fun of your taste in romantic movies, but I’ll hold you and comfort you when you cry at the really dumb scenes?”

An exhausted snort rolls through Harry’s chest, but there’s a degree of tenderness hidden in the sound. “I suppose that’s the best offer I’ll get, isn’t it?”

“You suppose right.” Y/N sighs contently, her eyes drifting shut as she settles herself into Harry’s chest.  The feeling of the subtle rise and fall of his muscles is enough to soothe her to sleep, and she’s just settling in for what she thinks may be the best sleep of her life when her head suddenly drops as Harry abruptly pulls away from her.

“Harry—” Y/N’s eyes snap open as she pulls herself into an upright position, any feeling of calm that she had a moment ago gone out the window. “What the fuck?”

A sheepish Harry smiles at her from the dresser. “We left the candles lit, love.” He says, blowing out the three lit candles on the wooden surface before walking to one of the bedside tables, where four more candles are lit. “It’s not safe.”

“No, you know what’s no safe?  Jerking your girlfriend from her sleep when she’s exhausted, and has to be up early tomorrow.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she flops back into the pillows.

Harry blows out the last candle before sliding back into the bed. “Would you rather I let the cabin burn down?  That wouldn’t be very romantic of me, now would it?”

Turning over on her side, Y/N faces the wall away from Harry. “You’re an asshole.”

“Don’t be mean.” Harry’s pout is tangible in the press of his lips to her bare shoulder. “We were having a moment!”

“Not anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.” Harry laughs as he wraps his arms around Y/N, pulling her to spoon into his chest. “Just go to sleep.  You’ll be less grumpy in the morning.”

“Fuck off.” Y/N mutters, but she allows herself to be held against Harry as his breathing once again soothes her to sleep.

…

“Are you sure I can’t drive?”

Harry laughs as he shuts the loaded trunk of the Impala, the sound echoing off the trees around them and scaring a few birds that had settled in the branches. “After that disaster in Nebraska?  No way.”

“Did you let her drive Stevie?” Laure asks, shock woven through her voice as her eyes flicker between Y/N and Harry. “Really?”

“No, I let her try to drive Stevie.  And then she stalled her, and lost all driving privileges forever.” Harry replies with a snort, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders as his keys jangle in his hands. “So I’ll be driving the forty-two hours back to L.A.”

Y/N crosses her arms with an irritated sigh. “Whatever.  Don’t complain to me when you get stiff from being in one position for eight hours a day.”

As Harry rounds the back of the car, he shoots Y/N a smug grin, walking up behind her to wrap his warm arms around her waist. “But you’ll give me massages, won’t you, baby?  I’d really appreciate them…”

“Okay, this is still weird for me.” Jo says slowly, shaking her head as her eyes flicker between their intertwined pose and Laure, who looks equally as bemused. “A week ago, we had to practically beg Harry to drive you, Y/N, and now you’re…?”

“It was bound to happen, wasn’t it?” Harry asks, resting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder with a smirk. “No woman could last five days with me while resisting the Styles charm…”

Y/N shrugs his chin off her shoulder with a snort. “Right.” She scoffs as she unravels his hands from her waist. “The Styles charm.  We’ll pretend that’s a thing.”

Harry pouts as Y/N pulls away from him, his arms still outreached and trailing after her. “It is a thing!”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N walks over to Jo, wrapping her arms around the girl tightly as the crisp morning air sends a shiver down her spine. “Congratulations, Jo.  Have fun on your honeymoon.”

Although Jo hugs her back with a smile, there’s something lingering under the sweet expression. “Thank you.” She speaks in her normal tone, but waits until her lips are right by Y/N’s ear to lower her voice. “The moment you arrive back in L.A., I expect a three hour phone call explaining how all of this happened.  Is that understood?”

“You’re so demanding. I would have thought you’d be more mature now that you’re married.” Y/N laughs as she pulls out of the hug, turning to Laure and giving her a tight squeeze before walking to the car.  She leans against the cool metal of the passenger side as Harry rounds around to the driver’s side, having said his goodbyes right after she did.

“I’m serious!  The last time we talked about Harry, you threatened to cut off his—”

Laure takes Jo’s hand, squeezing it hard as she bites her lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, darling, that’s enough.  Just be thankful they’re not arguing anymore, yeah?  Maybe we’ll finally be able to have a wine night that doesn’t end with someone flipping a charcuterie board.”

The memory of Laure and Jo’s four year anniversary party brings a sheepish smile to Y/N’s face, and she watches as the realization hits Jo, who gives a satisfied nod to Laure before the latter presses her lips to her cheek.

Harry, however, is less amused, and shoots a questioning glance at Y/N over the hood of the car. “Wait, when did you threaten to cut something of mine off?”

“Oh, it was just a joke, Harry.” Y/N waves off his concern as she opens the passenger door with a click. “It’s nothing you have to worry about, as long as you don’t piss me off too much.”

“Right.” Harry says slowly, climbing inside the car as Y/N does the same.  “I’ll do my best.”

Harry starts the car with an easy and practiced motion, shifting it into reverse and pulling away from the mountainside resort as the two of them give one last wave to Jo and Laure through the passenger window.  Once they’re back on the winding mountain road, Y/N grabs Harry’s phone from its usual spot in his cup holder, scrolling through his music library with interest.

“What do you feel like listening to?” She asks curiously, her eyes scanning over the now familiar titles indecisively. “Something fast?  Something mellow?”

Harry shifts the car into second gear before grabbing Y/N’s free hand, brushing his pink lips over the back of her knuckles in a gentle motion. “I don’t really care.” He says with a shrug, winding his fingers through her own before lowering their hands between their seats. “Anything you want.”

The comment of free reign causes Y/N’s eyes to widen in disbelief. “Really?” She asks incredulously, and when Harry gives a confirming nod, she quickly settles on “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” leaning back in her seat as the familiar guitar riff fills the car.

From the corner of her eye, she watches Harry’s nose wrinkle as his eyebrows crease beneath his sunglasses. “Actually, I changed my mind.” He says lowly, swiping his thumb over her knuckles in a motion of apology. “Not this song.”

Y/N lets out a groan as she presses her head back into the head rest. “For fuck’s sake, H—”

“I’m not feeling it! It just doesn’t suit this time of day, or this scenery—”

“We have forty-two hours left in this trip, and you’re already pissing me off.  Do you want something to get cut off?” Yanking her hand from his own, she grabs his phone again and opens it with a harsh sigh. “Okay, what do you want to listen to?”

“I told you.” Harry taps his fingers against the steering wheel as he risks a glance at her, gauging if the irritation in her voice matches the irritation on her face. “Whatever you want to listen to.”

Y/N allows herself a quiet snort, but makes no other comment on the contradictory statement. “Fine.” She says shortly, scrolling through his songs for another moment before clicking on “Strangers”. “How’s that?”

Harry raises his now empty hand defensively before finding her own again, squeezing it gently. “Good, love.  It’s good.”

“Good.” Y/N gives a short sigh of relief, settling back into her seat again as a new guitar riff begins to sound through the car speakers.

The first verse of the song has barely finished when Harry clears his throat thickly, the corner of his lip just barely twitching up. “You know, actually—”

“Stop the car.”

#feedback is appreciated!! #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #one direction fanfiction #one direction fic #one direction imagine #harry styles au #road trip au #enemies to lovers #slow burn #fine line #dreamwithharry #42 hours #writing

[geeky-politics-46]

Fluffy Sinister Strange Playlist

Sinister Strange x Reader

Songs that are either referenced directly in my Fluffy Sinister Strange series, or make think of our naughty & sweet spooky boy.

I wanted to give a little snippet of some of the songs I picked for this playlist. So I've included the song title, artist, & a few lines that I feel fit the story. There are more that aren't listed here. These are just my personal faves.

"Rescue Me" by: Chris Young

This one is one pretty much all of my Marvel playlists.

"Who is gonna rescue me? Cause it sure feels krytonite how you got me on one knee with my hand out begging for mercy. What's a happy ending if I can't get the girl? What's it matter if I save the world? If you don't promise me, before you take this ring & rescue me."

"I Wish I Was The Moon" by: Neko Case

This one is for Stephen before you fell into his universe.

"Last night I dreamt I had forgotten my name. Cause I had sold my soul, but I awoke just the same. I'm so lonely. I wish I was the moon tonight."

"A Thousand Years" by: Christina Perri

I can't hear this song without bursting into tears. It's like a Disney fairytale.

"I have died every day waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid. I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more."

"Feel Again" by: JLV

"Been so long that maybe I forgot how to love. I've been running. I've been running. Somehow, you reminded me with only a touch. Make me wanna feel it again."

"At Last" by: Etta James

I firmly believe this song is overused, but it still fits very well here.

"You smiled. Oh, & then the spell was cast. Here we are in heaven. For you are mine at last."

"Ablaze" by: Alanis Morrisette

This one is for little Donna from her parents.

"To my girl, all your innocence & fire. When you reach out, I am here hell or high water. This nest is never going away. My mission is to keep the light in your eyes ablaze."

"Ain't Nothing 'Bout You" by: Brooks & Dunn

"Once I thought that love was something I could never do. Never knew that I could feel this much. But this yearning in the deep part of my heart for you is more than a reaction to your touch. It's a perfect passion, & I can't get enough."

Songs directly referenced in stories & moodboards:

"In A Different Light" by: Doug Stone

"Spooky" by: Classics IV

"Can't Help Falling In Love With You" by: Elvis Presley

--------------------------------

Back to main masterlist

Back to Fluffy Sinister Strange masterlist

Stephen Strange Taglist: @starkiller-queen @glitterylokislut @verycollectivecreator @chatampr @lovecleastrange @wheredafandomat @mkixx @evelynrosestuff @katefullerrr @littlepinknightmare @foofarny @stygianoir @moonroyalt @saturnsbabe69 @blaxdet @blackrose-92 @ironstrange1991 @rindulacre @nancy-thompsons @wolfatheartandsoul @dangerouslittlefairy @n0obmaster-69 @oliveoilthoughts @onebatch--twobatch @yourmajesty13 @blondekel77 @lil-sweater-slut @gwephen @taramaria @sinceimetyou @slashersrus @coeurgrenadiine @cc13723things @just--a-magpie @supervengerslock @strangelockd @dont-feel-so-good-peter @kingsmanperfecthartwin @ghost-lantern @inlovewithloki16 @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @itssmaugtheterrible @katherinemaximoff @veryfancydoilies @cute-angi @mochacake2016 @prix19 @alexfanficnook @anotheroddfish @mando-is-the-way @xourownsidee @baes-x @dreamingsmile @negar77rd @imaginesfreetotake @ppatricia34me @rougepetale @tis-vereon @divinearchangel @sherlux @hiddlechive @ginnykate @thatesqcrush @friendofplenti @yuugenmomo @holdmyowos @the-royal-petals @lokislov3 @captaincarmel164 @lucimorningst4r @mydearalmira @petalcranberry @singhfae @emotionsareforuglypeople @trappedinlimbo15 @veryladyqueen @icytrickster17 @kentucky-criedfricken @briefhandsstudenttoad @calamityismyspecialty @sinisterstrange616 @patbrdsc @trojanaurora @azu21 @massivehahaao3tree @strangesgirls

#sinister strange #fluffy sinister strange #sinister strange fluff #sinister stephen strange #sinister strange smut #sinister strange playlist #doctor strange #stephen strange #sinister strange x female reader #sinister strange x reader #sinister strange x you #marvel multiverse #multiverse of madness #doctor strange multiverse of madness #doctor strange variant #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange playlist #stephen strange x you #doctor strange x you #dr. stephen strange #mcu playlist #music inspiration #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #sinister strange fanfic #sinister strange fanfiction #doctor strange fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch #marvel playlist

[homoose]

as part of my 2k celebration, I’m sponsoring a lil CREATORS challenge. anyone can enter (including mutuals!). I don’t care how many followers you have, if you have a full masterlist or queue of gifs, or if you’ve never made anything before! the challenge is open to writers, gif makers, artists, web weavers— whatever you do you can enter!

🏆 it’s not your typical challenge in that there won’t be any “winners” bc I’m too soft and love you all too much and I think all your work deserves to win. SOZ I know that’s annoying 💀

instead, every entry (both writing and images) will be reblogged with commentary and then they’ll go on a big masterlist that will be linked on my main masterlist forever 💚

deadline is May 1st! challenge rules below the cut!

💚 writers, here’s ya challenge:

you must use the line: “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought...” somewhere in your fic (pls bold it so I can find)

all fics must be one-shots, 3k words or less

you can write for any Criminal Minds character, pairing (including x reader), or general team dynamic, and in any genre (fluff, angst, smut) and YES I will read angst for this challenge pls be nice to me

all fics must be formatted with Title, Summary, Pairing, Content/Warnings, and Word Count

pls tag me & use the tag #mooselovescreators

💚 image creators (art, sketches, gifs, moodboards, webs, etc.), here’s ya challenge:

you must create something that plays on one or more of the following themes/concepts: family, POV, opposites, change, shadow, or expectations.

you can create for any Criminal Minds character, pairing, episode, season, etc.

pls tag me & use the tag #mooselovescreators

#homoose 2k 🍾 #mooselovescreators #feel free to boost and spread the word

[btsmosphere]

Crossfire | KTH

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Moodboard Masterlist

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 6.4k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, injury, dangerous driving, mention of drugs (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: I am actually super happy with this chapter, I hope you guys feel the same! Y/N and Tae go on a lil adventure... I also had to make up a name for a cartoon show for this lmao,, and as always, thanks for the love!! 

Something was tugging you from sleep.

Softly, though, so you didn’t notice until it was already too late, and your senses were with you all at once. In one last protest against the waking world, you didn’t open your eyes, stubbornly lying there instead, your back to the side of the bed Taehyung used. Then the same something that had woken you up started again.

He was singing.

That was all it took, and your eyes were open, body stiffening. Taehyung, however, noticed nothing. His song continued, one you had never heard before, and his voice was beautifully soft and smooth, expressive even at such a low volume. Clearly he had been hoping not to wake you up.

Swallowing, you forced your eyes to fall closed again. After the initial shock, you soon found it easy to relax to his calming melody, the duvet and pillow enveloping you in combination with his voice. And despite the warmth in your little bubble under the covers, goosebumps rose along your arms.

You really couldn’t get your head round Taehyung.

Though you had seen him being silly, all that time at college you had spent at a distance from him, he had seemed cold, intimidating. It had been a shock to you when he had been so amicable those months ago, and that soon became the Taehyung you knew, but he was still a mystery… His singing had really thrown you for a loop, another puzzle piece thrown in amongst the jumble you were already trying to make sense of when it came to this boy.

All day, you couldn’t get his song out of your head. Specifically, his voice.

His voice. Singing his song.

Him, him, him.

Last night he had mentioned that the books he had brought you were some of his favourites. Another surprise: who would have known that Kim Taehyung, the king of bad reputation, had a hidden love of fashion, an inner art connoisseur?

Now the books meant something different.

You read them even quicker after that, drinking in every word as if there were a drought.

Perhaps there was.

When you finished the last one in the stack, you were instantly back to the real world within four walls. It was only morning as well, judging by the light. Brilliant. One whole day and nothing to do.

“Y/N!”

Obnoxious footfalls. Taehyung was taking the stairs two at a time.

The bedroom door swung open to a slightly breathless Taehyung, leaning his weight against the door handle he had yet to let go of.

“Sorry it’s so late. You okay?”

You were lying across the bed’s width, head falling over the end nearest him, hair brushing the floor.

“Yep. Do you want me to cook?”

He only frowned down at you for a second longer before continuing as if one member of the conversation wasn’t upside down.

“Ah, no. I didn’t get any food.”

“But we basically ran out yesterday,” you frowned.

“I know,” he said, “but today we are going to the food.”

Now that made you sit up.

“What?”

“Yep,” a proud smile made its way onto his face and he straightened up, “we’re going out.”

When your only response was a wide-eyed stare, he took it as his cue to elaborate.

“I know you’ve been going a little crazy inside, so I thought we could go for an adventure. Hobi’s racing tonight and he says we can join him.”

“Hoseok?” you questioned.

“Yeah. Sound good?”

It did. You knew it shouldn’t. You weren’t naïve – you knew what he meant by racing. Idiots breaking every road law possible for clout, or maybe money. It was precisely what you had always stayed away from.

But it sounded so good.

“Sounds perfect,” you grinned.

First, Taehyung helped you find the pair of his jeans you were most likely to fit into; since you had been at his, you had mainly worn sweats for comfort’s sake, but this occasion called for a change. Wearing a hoodie was non-negotiable though, to hide your face.

After rolling up the hem of his black jeans, you slung on the most nondescript hoodie he had. Shoes, however, were more of an issue, so Taehyung vowed to buy you some once you were out. Also wearing black, Taehyung looked much more stylish than you in cargo pants, a bomber jacket and a bandana.

“Did you take your painkiller?” was the last thing on the list before finally leaving, via the side door.

Night had descended completely by now, putting you more at ease. You walked far away from streetlights when you could, but as you drew closer to the city centre, that was the last thing on your mind.

Being outside was just what you needed. You breathed in the cold air and drizzle on your face, eyes following each car that whirred past and people’s boots splashing in puddles of melted neon. And what made it all the more thrilling was the knowledge that you were taking a risk.

So far, you had been clumsily walking around in Tae’s sliders, until suddenly a man came barging past you on the sidewalk. In your dash to dodge him, you tripped over the too-big shoes, barrelling straight into Taehyung’s stomach where his arms steadied you.

You barely had a chance to straighten before Tae had turned around, bent down and grabbed the backs of your knees, forcing you to fling your arms around his neck, shrieking as he hoisted you onto his back. Grinning while you complained into the back of his neck, he carried on, but soon he was dragging you into a store that was still open – though not for long – and you grabbed the cheapest sneakers going.

With that problem solved, food was the next priority. In the end, you chose a street vendor and headed to your rendezvous with steaming bags in hand.

Not far from the centre, once you wound through the smallest streets enclosed by the tallest buildings, you emerged onto a car park. It wasn’t as secluded as you had expected for underground racing, still lit up in colours by the signs of shops that backed onto it, the entrance opening onto a wide road.

Cars were lined up, one pulling up at the same time as you and Taehyung. None were flashy sports cars: instead the line-up came in various states of repair, altered by their owners with darkened windows, underglow, stickers, spoilers, you name it.

“Hoseok!”

Beside you, Taehyung shouted across the car park, waving an arm above his head. Then his hand wrapped around your wrist and he lead you through the thin crowd over to the older bangtan boy, who pulled his friend in and clapped him on the back.

Hoseok joined the two of you as you sat on the wall to eat, watching as the first few people showed off their wheel spins and donuts, revving engines mixing with whoops and yells from the spectators. Most were dressed in black like you. A handful of people came up to chat with the boys, with ‘haven’t seen you in a while’-s to Taehyung and offers of bets for Hoseok. Keeping your head well down, you just enjoyed your food, silently taking in the new environment.

The night had cleared up, the asphalt still shining from the earlier drizzle, but the puddles now lay still as glass.

Plenty of people had bottles in their hands, sitting around on the perimeter walls. In the opposite corner, those with hidden faces crowded together, almost hiding the exchange in their hands. Others sat on their bonnets, proudly talking to the interested huddle gathered around them.

“Right, I’m gonna get warmed up,” Hoseok dropped down from the wall and departed with one last wave to your well wishes.

As Hoseok pulled his car out of its spot, more followed. Rolling down his window, he rested his arm casually against the side as he guided his car round, revving here and there to elicit hollers from the crowd.

Laughing in the driver’s seat, he hit the gas, putting on a spurt of speed and skidding round in a perfect one-eighty. A cloud was thrown up by his back tyres, glittering as the droplets fell back down.

By now, you had finished eating and were anticipating some action. The buzz among the spectators grew more as each driver messed about in the parking lot, until at last they were filing out, lining the empty road along an imaginary starting line.

“Can we go closer?” you asked Taehyung as people gravitated towards the roadside, disturbing your view.

A smile bloomed on his face and he jumped down, ditching his takeaway.

“Sure.”

Weaving in and out of the rabble to reach the front, you stood on your tiptoes to spot Hoseok’s car in the middle of the line. Taehyung stood just behind you, already speaking to someone. From your left side, a taller girl pushed past you, striding right up to the curb.

In a ripple, the pack quietened. The girl raised her hand – was that a gun? – and a bang sounded, drowned out instantaneously by the squealing of tyres and growling of engines. Within seconds, the cars had sped out of sight.

“How long is the race?” you turned to Taehyung, whose acquaintance had walked away again.

“That depends how fast Hoseok decides to go,” he murmured back, perching on the wall behind him and kicking his legs out, “they’re on one of the city circuits, main roads, so it’s just about acceleration.”

Nodding in what you hoped was a casual manner, you returned your eyes to the deserted road.

“So he’s good then, Hoseok?”

You hopped up onto the wall beside Taehyung, but it wasn’t his voice that replied.

“Oh, he’s the best.”

Your head snapped around, leaving you face to face with Yoongi. Leaning against the end of the wall, smoke swirling up from a glowing cigarette end in his hand, he looked right at home. How long had he been standing there?

“I heard you were here,” he directed a rare smile past you to Taehyung, “everyone’s wondering if you’re gonna go for a spin.”

“It’s been a long time,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Beck’s next up,” he said, as if that was meant to mean something. Based on Taehyung’s reaction, it probably did.

Shaking his head, he laughed, then bit down on his lip, still smiling, and stared into his lap.

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Well you won’t have long,” Yoongi crushed his cigarette against the wall, chucking it carelessly to the ground. Sure enough, the screech of tyres and distant rumble of engines were once again becoming audible.

As Yoongi melted away into the crowd again, the sounds grew and you stood up again, craning your neck to see as far down the road as you could. Only seconds later, a pair of headlights blazed around the corner, drawing a line down your vision as the car flew towards you, followed by a tight group of others.

Stepping back, you watched as the first place car whizzed by, blowing your hair back and off your face, the rest piling across the line in a photo-finish a few seconds later.

While the cars slowed, drifting round to return to the car park and the assembled cheering crowd, an elbow nudged your arm.

“Do you fancy a ride?”

Your eyes slid between Taehyung and the cars re-entering the lot, quickly encircled by people.

What the hell were you thinking? Why were you even considering saying yes? This was crazy-

“Okay!”

Taehyung held you in front of him, shielding you as together you cut a path through the excited mass towards the victor of the last race. Hoseok was grinning from ear to ear, arms in the air, high-fiving people and showing off energetic dance moves in exchange for laughter and pats on the back.

Once again, Taehyung clapped his shoulder, this time leaning in to make his request. Hanging back, you were invisible in the crowd, your face obscured.

“Hey, everyone!” Hoseok shouted, causing a hush, “Taehyungie’s gonna do the next one!”

Cheers and excited applause erupted as Hoseok lifted Tae’s hand in the air. The older boy jumped around while Taehyung laughed, and before long the other drivers were back in their cars. Returning to the roadside, the crowd left you behind.

“Hop in,” Taehyung told you, making his way to the driver’s side.

Though not top-end, Hoseok’s car was not inexpensive. You slid into the leather seat and buckled up, Tae doing the same before gripping the wheel and getting it moving, out and onto the road.

“So where are we going?” you eyed the rabble from your window as you passed them, low rumble of the engine almost teasing given what was to come.

“Beck,” Taehyung replied, pulling into position, one hand staying loosely on the wheel, “it’s what we call one of the courses round the back alleys down by Beck square, and it’s sort of my speciality.”

You nodded, eyes falling back onto the wide open road in front of you. A few cars over, you saw the girl from before standing on the curb.

“You ready?”

A deep breath in.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

Bang.

Outside, the crowd blurred and disappeared, lights whipping past your window as you were forced back in your seat with the sudden speed.

Other cars encroached either side, penning you in but Taehyung kept his eyes ahead, locking the wheel all the way right to take you barrelling into a smaller road, with only one car ahead of you. At the back windscreen, purple headlights were bearing down on you, so close it was like a demon staring into the car.

Weaving, left, right, your car thundered after the red one ahead of you, but the gap only increased.

Snarling behind you, engine nearly as loud as your own, your main pursuer was on top of you. As you spilled out onto a wider road, it was gaining, crawling up your side.

With a glint in his eye, Taehyung took one look at the competitor, one glance to where the red car was turning the next corner some way ahead, and pulled the wheel.

Staring straight ahead, wheel at arm’s length, Taehyung pushed the car, the roaring engine riding a deafening crescendo as you powered ahead through the deserted alley he had taken you down. You winced as he rapidly squeezed past some industrial bins lining the wall, only grazing one with slight jolt – then it was a clear road to the growing exit.

Your car fired from the shortcut like a cannonball, Taehyung wrestling the wheel to bring the back tyres under control as you turned right, finding yourselves neck-and-neck with the red car from earlier.

Next, a drawn-out corner, and that was all Taehyung needed to pull away, expertly drifting around before flattening his foot to the ground, plunging into the darkest alley yet, lit only by your headlamps. But once you emerged, the wider road was back, shop signs and streetlights blurring outside.

Taking a glance behind, the red car was nowhere to be seen.

A laugh bubbled up from your throat as you fell back in your seat, exhilarated. And then there was the crowd, watching and waiting by the parking lot – you had won!

“Fuck me,” you breathed as Taehyung relaxed beside you, casually braking into a drift to turn around.

A hearty laugh returned from him as he pulled into the car park, soon getting swarmed. Exiting the car, you were both engulfed in the clamouring mass, though you managed to slip away to the midst of it. Everyone was the most interested in Taehyung.

At last, most had dispersed and only Hoseok and Yoongi were left congratulating Taehyung with hugs.

“Fun, right?” Hoseok smiled at you, inviting you into their conversation.

“Yeah.” Breathless as if you had just run the course, you laughed with them.

“Good job, you haven’t lost your touch,” Yoongi affirmed again as Hoseok left you to drive again.

By the sounds of it, the next race was a longer one. Bets had been made and you all held your breath as the cars lined up again. The starting gun did nothing to help your heart calm down after the adrenaline rush of Taehyung’s race, but you weren’t complaining. His face wore a similar joy to yours, the two of you happily sitting back after Yoongi left and laughing about the thrill of his driving.

“I dunno if I would have got away so well on the corner if Hoseok’s car wasn’t so good though-“

“Hey! Don’t downplay it, your driving was insane!”

“Maybe it was insane,” he looked down, bashful, but soon smiled back and shook his finger at you, “so don’t try this at home!”

But your laughter at his joke was interrupted.

Sailing over the buildings came the high-pitched wail of a siren. The group quietened. Listening. Perhaps it was unrelated?

A couple of people walked into the road, looking around to see if the vehicle was coming your way. It was definitely getting too close for comfort.

Taehyung stood, hand wrapping round your upper arm and lightly pulling you away from the front of the crowd, though both of you still stared at the road, hoping the sound would shrink again, pass you by.

Blue flashed against the rain-slick road, illuminating dark windows at the end of the street.

Bad luck.

“Run!”

Those who were standing in the road took off across it, away from the car park, while some scattered back to where they came from. The few cars left standing in the parking lot were starting up, leaving by the alleys. And in the middle of the crowd, you and Taehyung started running.

In seconds the parking lot had emptied, and now you were alone with Taehyung as other members of the party vaulted walls away from the sirens and shouting police officers, the slamming of car doors as they gave chase.

Air rushed in and out of your lungs as your feet pounded after Taehyung, going as fast as you could but still falling behind. Dark buildings either side of you were painted in blue as light fell down the alleyway from the cars that had scattered you. Up ahead, Taehyung rounded a corner, but it was lost in darkness and you weren’t sure which one he had gone down.

You didn’t stop running.

“Stop there! Police!”

A woman yelled from the other end of the street, making you push yourself harder.

Just then, Taehyung skidded back around the corner you had just reached and grabbed your hand before you could think, and now he was pulling you away, taking turn after turn through dark streets you had never seen before. Stumbling after him, you clutched his hand, your lifeline.

You must have lost them by now. No blue lights could be seen, no sirens or shouts heard, no other footsteps but your own.

You hoped you had lost them by now. Your heart was beating out of your chest and your head spun, lungs failing to cooperate, evicting air in heavy bursts, taking it in too slow. In your side, the pain couldn’t be masked by the painkiller anymore, pinching mercilessly with every step.

You had to slow down.

Legs failing you, you finally gave in to stopping.

The sudden tug and then loss of your hand in his made Taehyung turn around, finding you doubled over, panting and pale in the face. Eyes scanning the street beyond you for danger, he moved forwards, hands gripping your arms.

“Hey, Y/N, can you keep going?”

Only your hyperventilating answered him.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”

Trying to pull you up to look at him, he was only met with your body going heavier in his arms, forcing him to scramble to wrap his arms around your back as you went limp.

Cursing, he lowered you to the ground but didn’t let go. Not taking his eyes off your face, he caught the moment your eyes opened again once you were leant against the wall.

A short breath escaped him, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you managed, breathing more even now, “my side…”

“It’s alright, you can rest for a bit,” he assured you, finally releasing you and sitting back on his heels.

One more check up and down the alley.

“Were we seriously just running from police?” you laughed slightly, bringing his attention back to you.

“First time for everything,” he mused, sitting down beside you.

“I guess,” you chuckled, still a little breathless, “so is the racing over?”

“For tonight. It gets busted occasionally, so when the others get back and see everyone’s gone they’ll know what happened.”

“Is Hoseok going to get arrested?”

“Shouldn’t do. He’s had plenty of practice evading cops.”

Nodding, your eyes returned to the ground. It was easy to forget how much experience Taehyung and the other bangtan boys had in all this; you were just here for the ride.

“You had your painkiller, right?” Taehyung broke the brief silence.

“Yeah, I did,” you quickly confirmed, “and I feel better now, I just, I dunno what happened…”

“And your iron pill?”

“Hmm? Oh, the red ones… no, I-I don’t think so.”

He clicked his tongue.

“That’ll be it then. You’re taking one as soon as we get home.”

Despite feeling a little like you were being scolded, you smiled, about to respond when a scuffle from the end of the street made you both turn your heads.

As you watched the dimly lit space, a silhouette ran past in a blur, followed by a slower figure, wearing an unmistakeable bulky police vest. They jogged past the opening to your street, but soon their outline reappeared, empty handed.

Breath catching in your throat, you went obligingly with Taehyung as he stood silently, his arm guiding you behind him without taking his eyes off the cop. As quickly as you dared, you both retreated, wincing at each slight crunch beneath your feet. In the silence, the crackling of a police radio, though incomprehensible, was clearly heard, and the officer mumbled back into it.

Spying an opening to hide you from view, you gathered this was your target. Holding your breath, you approached it, swinging around the corner at the first opportunity with only one glance back.

One glance that showed the cop’s head turning towards you.

This alley was much smaller than the other, and you found yourself facing Taehyung in much the same way you had in his hallway when you first came barging into his life. Searching his face, you wondered if he had seen what you did just now.

“Tae-“

His lips formed around a shushing sound that barely left his mouth, and in one small step, he was up against you, a finger steady on your lips to silence you. All you could do was hold your tongue and stare as he looked past you, tentatively dipping his head out of your hiding spot, never lowering his finger.

“They’re gone,” he spoke, voice still impossibly low.

Swallowing, you removed your eyes from his face, glancing up the alley you were now on. It was a dead end, home only to a large dumpster surrounded by smashed glass and needles. You couldn’t leave this way, which would explain why you needed to wait here, in case the cop was still close by.

What it didn’t explain was why Taehyung was still so close to you.

Although his hand had now lowered, you could feel his body heat from this proximity. The zip of his undone jacket brushed against the front of your hoodie.

Your tongue ran across your lips. Eyes finally diverted from the potential dangers outside, Taehyung was now looking at you.

“Uh…” you cleared your throat, regretting opening your mouth. You had no idea what you had planned to say.

Luckily, you were startled from the situation as a chiming ringtone broke through the moment.

Scrambling to scoop his phone from his pocket and answer it, Taehyung stumbled back, eyeing the alleyway outside in a panic. Thankfully, no one had heard. Better get moving.

“Hello?”

Not even getting a look at the caller in his rush to pick it up, Jungkook’s voice answering him was a relief.

Mindlessly grabbing your hand in his, Taehyung started walking with you beside him as he listened to the younger member. As you passed through the end of the street, he took a look both ways before leading you the opposite way to that the police officer had taken.

Holding Kim Taehyung’s hand was something you had never seen coming. But here you were.

You didn’t complain though. His grip was firm, comfortable, and walking with him this way felt… normal. How that was even possible, you didn’t know, and you blamed it on your lingering light-headedness – of course you would want to feel grounded.

But somehow, far away from all you knew in backstreets you had never seen before, after a very illegal night, with a gang member talking in serious tones over the phone next to you, you felt perfectly at home.

“Cheers, Kook. Night.”

Taehyung shut off the call, tucking his phone back into his pocket. By now you had reached more well-lit roads that you imagined would be busy by day. Now, of course, you were the only ones here. God knew what time it was.

The only light brighter than the streetlamps was the interior of a 24-hour convenience store, a good indication that it was by no means a civilised hour. Still without letting your hand go, Taehyung led you inside.

Standing in front of the wall of fizzy drinks, he ordered you to pick one before swiping a packet of crisps and a chocolate bar. The teenage cashier didn’t look you in the eye once as he rung you up, and then you were on your way. Only now did Taehyung drop your hand, passing you the chocolate with a command to get your sugar up and himself tearing into the crisps.

When you had worked through the first row, he spoke up.

“Jungkook was on the phone about your dad.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, having just put another square in your mouth.

“Well he’s okay. He hasn’t been hurt, but as you know, Shinhyuk’s forced him to hand over your apartment for the gang to use. He’s forcing him to work for him, full-time, with the threat of harm to you if he doesn’t… Apparently he was accused of stealing drugs from a deal and that warrants all this – though it’s probably baseless. Shinhyuk had his eyes on your place already.”

You watched your feet as you listened. It had been easy to put your dad out of your mind for the sake of your sanity, the not knowing taking you round in circles, but hearing that he was still alive took a weight from you.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung said, greeted with your silence, “we’re fighting against Shinhyuk, and we’ll try to help him. Try not to worry about him losing his job, I mean-“

“Worry?” you looked up at him, “He’s alive! There’s nothing to be sorry for! Can you thank Jungkook for finding this out?”

A small, relieved smile crossed Taehyung’s face.

“Course I can,” he grinned, then held out your Fanta, “now don’t forget about your sugar.”

After this, the walk home was surprisingly short. Given how lost you were, you had thought you were half the city away, but in next to no time you turned onto recognisable streets. Strolling through the dark eating sugary snacks, it felt as if you were coming home from the movies, or any venture more innocent than your night of racing.

As the pair of you were climbing Tae’s front steps, he offered to make tea to warm up. Needless to say, you were fully on board with the idea.

He set to work, the kitchen lit dimly by lights tucked underneath the cupboards.

However, leaning against the wall waiting for the water to boil, you began to feel just how tired you were, both physically and mentally. But you could sleep later: you didn’t want the night to end yet. Deciding on a middle ground, you gave in to sliding down the wall, seating yourself on the floor. Not a move you would have chosen at your most alert moments, but it couldn’t be helped.

At your downwards movement, Taehyung spun around, dropping the teaspoon with a clatter.

But then he saw you staring back at him in bewilderment, and his eyes closed as he huffed in equal parts relief and frustration.

“God, I thought you were passing out again,” he grumbled.

Soon the bag of red pills landed in front of you on the tile. Sheepishly smiling, you gulped one down, and then a mug of tea filled its space.

“Oh, we don’t have to stay here,” you frowned at Tae as he sat down opposite you on the kitchen floor, leaning his back against the cupboards as he cradled his tea.

“Nah, it’s a unique perspective,” he said, “I’ve never sat here before and it’s my house.”

“Yeah, I’m sure your kitchen looks super different from down here,” a smile threatened to break your baffled frown, though you did pick up your mug, breathing in the inviting steam rising from it.

“So was tonight okay?” Taehyung smiled over his mug, eyes creasing a little as they watched for your answer.

“Mmm, yeah,” you swallowed your first sip of tea, “I’ve never… done anything like that before. But I thought it was really exciting! Hoseok is so nice too, letting you drive his car.”

Tae let out a short laugh, eyes disappearing for a moment.

“I practically learnt to drive in Hobi’s cars.”

“Wait, cars? As in, cars, plural?”

“Yeah,” his wide grin stayed on his face, both rows of his teeth visible in the low light, “tonight was just small races, he didn’t get out the big guns. You should see his Bugatti.”

Your eyes bulged from your head.

“I’m not even going to ask where he got the money for that,” you mumbled, still in awe.

“He didn’t,” Taehyung smirked. Rolling your eyes, you breathed a laugh, soon diving back into your tea.

“Was it alright with Yoongi there?” he asked next. His eyes were wider now, curious, smile dimming, “I know he hasn’t exactly been…”

“No, it was fine,” you assured, “I get that he doesn’t like me, but he seems to tolerate me now, so I won’t push him.”

“He did sort of beat you up before, though,” Tae pointed out.

“I nearly beat him up back!” you joked, admittedly motivated by genuine defensiveness, “I could have handed his ass to him any time I pleased, but I chose to give you the satisfaction of saving me instead.”

Taehyung responded by snorting into his tea.

“You are so rude,” you tipped your foot over to playfully kick his thigh as you both laughed.

“Honestly, I’m glad you’re not too bothered by Yoongi,” Taehyung said once the laughter had passed, though his smile still lingered, “he looks so tough, but he’s a massive softie really.”

You simply raised your eyebrows.

“You’ll see,” he smirked.

“I’ll wait,” you scoffed, “although I don’t find him scary exactly… he sort of reminds me of that evil magician from Archie-wizz- did you watch that?”

“Yes! I used to watch that every day after school!”

“Yeah, so you know the one I’m on about, right? He was always lurking around corners, like, the camera would turn around and there he was, like he’d been there the whole time. That’s Yoongi!”

Tae barked a disbelieving laugh.

“You mean Count E. Vil? Yoongi would flip shit if he heard you compared him to a cartoon.”

“Count E. Vil? That was his name?”

“Yeah, and every time he appeared, Archie was like ‘didn’t see ya there!’”

“Yeah, yeah it is that one,” you laughed at the memory, “was that seriously his name? I must have forgotten.”

“You know, the more I think about, the more I can see it,” Taehyung was laughing too, “you just turn around and he’s like – bam – looking all cool…”

Taehyung schooled his face into a death stare just like Yoongi’s to demonstrate, making you crack up even more. He didn’t last long before the act broke down, laughter creeping into his poker mouth and now the both of you were bent over your knees with tears in your eyes, wheezing with the kind of infectious laughter that is most at home after lights out at a sleepover.

“Not a word of this to Yoongi, understand,” Tae joked when you had both calmed down, voice worn out from the laughing fit.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Comfortable silence warmed the room for a moment as you both drank more tea. Odd though your little scene was, with you both sat on the floor, legs outstretched in the middle, it was cosy. The glow of fading LEDs that barely lit your faces separated you from the darkness of the outside. In all the world, it felt as though you two were the only ones, safe in your unorthodox sanctuary.

“How…”

You spoke before you had figured out how to phrase your question, but now Taehyung had lifted his eyes back to you.

“How did you… Who started, I mean, with bangtan…”

“How did we get together?”

You gave a small nod.

“Some of us go way back,” he set his tea down, “I mean, I went to high school with Jimin. And Yoongi’s from the same city as me, and we used to know each other when we were tiny. His family was connected to Namjoon’s, and that’s where it started – their families started the whole crime thing, and they started training together.

“We all sort of fell together, I think Jin’s family needed help from Namjoon’s and he stayed on; Jungkook knew Jimin from childhood, and he showed up asking for help when we had already started; Jin found Hoseok at college. I started, and Jimin came along too, because Yoongi wanted me. We had been out of touch for years, but I still knew who he was.”

“Wow,” you breathed.

“It’s sort of complicated, I know,” he directed a shy smile at his cup.

“Well, that’s life,” you said quietly, “but you guys work so well together. I guess you got lucky.”

Taehyung’s nod was solemn.

“Yeah. But it’s more than just working – they’re my brothers now.”

Tilting your head as you listened, you believed him.

“You guys seem to understand each other so well.”

“We do – we always have each other’s backs, you know? I wouldn’t stick around in this for just anyone.”

“By ‘this’, do you mean…” you rested your chin on your knees, still listening intently.

“Everything we’re known for: drugs, fights, racing… I never intended to get into all that. I try to be careful, and moral, about it, we all do. But I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else.”

“Do you think you’ll stay in a gang forever?”

By now you were both talking in hushed tones as if you were huddled under blankets.

“No, I don’t think so,” he pondered, “I’m not sure what I want to be, though.”

“How about your art?” you smiled, “or fashion. Those books you got me were really interesting. Or your music? You’re a good singer-“

Cutting yourself off, your eyes widened. Taehyung had been nodding along, considering your options, but now he stared straight back at you.

“You heard me singing?”

“U-uh, yeah, I did,” you stammered, heat glowing in your cheeks, “I was half asleep, but I thought you were so good.”

“Thanks,” Tae’s voice was lower in pitch now, and he swallowed and looked down, his dark hair obscuring most of his face so he almost melted into the darkness. He cleared his throat, “I’ve never sung to anyone else before.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly sing to me,” you spoke softly, reaching a hand to his knee, “but it was amazing anyway. I mean it.”

You were glad to see a genuine smile blooming on his face as he looked back up again.

“Anyway,” he shook his head, “I’m not gonna leave the boys. Even when I’m not in a gang, they’ll always be my family. I’m not letting that go.”

“I understand.”

You really did. Your only family was across the city, torn from you and forced to work for Shinhyuk.

Hesitantly, you drew your hand back from his knee.

Draining the last dregs of his cold tea, Taehyung let the silence settle.

“I miss college,” you eventually confess into the quiet room, “I hope I get to go back.”

“Even Professor Han’s class?” Tae’s low voice joked.

“Oh, I don’t think I miss it that much,” you smiled, though it was overtaken by a sigh.

“You’ll go back,” came the reassurance.

A pause.

“We… we’re hoping we can beat Shinhyuk in this whole thing. We’re sort of working on a plan.”

Instantly intrigued, you stared expectantly across the kitchen at Taehyung, who heaved a sigh and began to explain.

“Shinhyuk has his weaknesses, and thanks to Jungkook we’ve found the worst. He works differently to us. He doesn’t care for anyone in his gang, and they don’t care for each other. Like your dad, he keeps most of them there with blackmail, so we’ve been trying to pick people off. If we can infiltrate well enough, guarantee his members a safe escape from the gang, or find some blackmail of our own to get them, we should be able to weaken him and catch him off-guard when his safety net isn’t there to catch him anymore…”

“Is it going to work?” you breathed into the still air.

Taehyung pursed his lips. You were very conscious of your breathing as you waited for an answer. In. Out.

“It has to.”

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[simplyarmin]

Hii! Hxh matchup please! My personality type is INFP and I'm bisexual. I have Adhd which affects me in a lot of ways but mainly things like RSD (which as a sort of trauma-amplifier has helped in giving me some serious self-esteem issues and because of past trauma one of my main problems is never feeling good enough and just below the cut), really bad executive dysfunction even though I have so many lovely interests and hobbies I try to do, and some minor memory trouble. Despite all that I still manage to seem really really determined for my goals to no end. I mainly love any kind of creation and art like writing, drawing, painting, moodboard/other editing projects, but also just walking or shopping I suppose, and even more! I also have a huge passion for studying things I like. Just some are astrology, psychology (mainly in mental disorders), herbology, literature and Character analyzing, and more!

I love affection in any way and while I think words of affirmation are a needed kind of love for me all love languages always make me happy! I love deep talk and being able to over share or just speak about everything. I want someone who interests me but also let's me know they're interested in me or find me special or unique or just s o m e t h i n g.

I don't have a religious label that I like for many reasons and get uncomfortable at the idea of one. Spiritual is ok but even that is a lil much now. I have a deep hate of authority figures over me because of experiences and I strongly dislike people who never let me express myself in some way.

I kin Gon, Reki from sk8 the infinity, anne from Anne with an E, Syd from I am not ok with this, and Coraline

So, I'm idealistic, stubborn, determined, creative, introverted, intelligent, and affectionate! If this was too long I'm sorry!

your hunter x hunter match is...

killua!

you didn’t specify an age range (which is totally okay btw) but i just hope i’m not shipping a fourteen year old with an adult lol. anyways— you are absolutely adorable, i love youu! you deserve anything and everything, and killua thinks so too.

dude he would find you so interesting and cool. i know most people probably think that killua is the type to judge people, and he may be like that on the outside, but he’s literally the biggest sweetheart deep down!

he doesn’t do much creative stuff (considering his childhood and everything) so he would definitely watch you doing your thing from afar. he then would get way too curious and come sit next to you. he would try to be subtle about it, but he would find whatever your doing so cool. this situation would probably end with him attempting to draw something, failing miserably, and blaming the pencil/marker/pen on it.

the way killua would show his affection towards you would be subtle and private. he’s the jealous type yet he would never show any sign of love in public? quite strange. nevertheless, when your alone, he turns into this absolute softie. he had a harsh childhood, and really relates to you on your trauma. so you both clearly need some comforting. you both typically will sit very close together, leaning on each other carelessly while being on the verge of sleep. when you fall asleep first, he’ll kiss whatever part of you is closest to his lips. be it your forehead, cheek, or even hand.

i find your relationship adorably innocent and sweet. (can i be you?? pls??)

#hunter x hunter matchup #killua matchup #hxh #killua #killua zoldyck #matchup #anime matchup #matchup request #anime #killua x reader #simplyarmin