[H.S] Shots

Please Don't Leave.

[Y/N]

As Y/N blinked her Y/E/C eyes open, she felt safe. Probably the safest she’d ever felt and all thanks to the man lying next to her. The tattoos covering his chest she’d memorised by heart, had traced their black outlines more times than she could count, and at the start of the pandemic, when the first wave of emotional exhaustion had hit, he’d allowed her to colour them in, to bring some sort of vibrance in the gloomy-looking life. Now, however, seeing the gorgeous butterfly right in her eye-line made Y/N want to disappear into the ground.

A shuddering breath escaped Y/N as she realised more and more of the situation. They were spooned together, chest to chest, without a single inch left between them, and without any clothes to separate them either.

        She’d never been the friends-with-benefits kind of a person. Sure, she’d had her fair share of one-night-stands, where both parties enjoyed themselves and then amicably split to never see one another again. But with Harry, leaving and basically ghosting him wasn’t an option.

Harry shifted a bit, and the arm he had under her bare waist tightened, pulling her in, and his lips pressed against her forehead. For a moment, she thought it was just him stirring in his sleep, but when she felt pressure against her skin, when she felt his mouth start to skim down to her temple, a small grin accompanying the kisses, Y/N knew he was awake. And unfortunately, she’d have to face the music, rather than what she’d hoped of untangling herself from Harry, grabbing her things and running for the hills.

        “ ‘G morning, lovie,” he muttered, his voice gruff from the sleep, and as Y/N recalled, moans of her name. “How ya feelin’?”

Y/N had to clear her throat, and she nodded. “Good.” The word was quiet. “A bit sore, but I uh, slept well. Uh, you?”

        “ ‘M good.” Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “ ‘M great actually.”

        “Yeah?”

        “Yeah.” Y/N could feel the grin slowly expand across his face while she gulped.

        “Well, uh,” she started. “I uh, I guess I’ll get going.”

        That made him pull back, and she took it as her opportunity to flip around and slip out of Harry’s hold and the bed.

The bedsheet revealed her naked back to him where two large bruises in the shape of his palms had started to make themselves present. Much like on his own back, Y/N had nail marks all across it from when she’d been on top of him, and Harry had needed her closer, had been desperate to have her pressed to him and to keep her there as he fell apart.

        “You don’t have to, you know.” He let out a nervous chuckle, as Y/N leaned down and grabbed her discarded black thong. Most of the night was a blur for him, but he hadn’t been that inebriated that he had no control over himself and couldn’t understand what consent was. And well, neither had Y/N.

The alcohol had most definitely loosened them up, but it had also wiped away the fear of rejection. She’d been the one to make the first move. Standing alone on a penthouse balcony, cold winds sweeping past her frame was when she’d decided hiding her true feelings would only bring more pain.

        And then he’d walked out, covered in a glitter suit with a ruffled white blouse underneath, almost like the disco ball they’d been dancing under a few minutes before. He’d pulled Y/N to him. They’d looked at one another, and she was the one who pressed her lips against his. Without even waiting for a second, he’d responded with the same passion.

It’d taken them barely a minute to get out of the party and make their way to Harry’s place. Five more minutes and both of them were naked and on top of one another, underneath one another and in every imaginable position.