Chapter Six: And they both lie in one bed, and he lies next to the wall
“Good,” the photographer said. “Ok, now, your highness—I want you to put your hands on his shoulder…no, wait, try his chest.”
I lifted my hands and lay them against Alastor’s chest; his heart was hammering against my fingertips like he had been running for miles. He was looking away from me, eyes half-lidded. He was undoubtedly wishing he had put that sort of distance between us.
“Hmm, no, your hands on his chest looks like you’re trying to push him away. Try somewhere else—just whatever feels natural.”
I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw, then forced myself to relax. There was nothing natural about this, and we were doing a poor job of disguising it. I opened my eyes and looked into his; they were bright with hostility and cold, clear anger beneath his heavy lashes. My fingers slid up his chest, but I did not know where they were going. My gaze fell to the delicate arch of his neck and the hollow of his throat. I touched the corners of his jaw and lightly trailed down to rest on either side of his neck, and I scraped my thumb claw down the center of his Adam’s apple, then traced the carved-out valley beneath it.
Alastor’s breath hitched and his claws tightened on me. He stared down at me in outrage as a flush spread across his cheeks.
“Perfect!” the photographer chirped, “ok, your highness, now I want you to turn your face to the left, so you’re facing me, not him.”
I turned away in haste, grateful to break from his strange, tense gaze. Heat spread across my own cheeks at our proximity, and all the eyes on us.
“Ok, now look behind you, not at me. There! Just like that,” the photographer said. “Ok, sir, now lean forward and kiss her cheek. Lean in closer, please—”
I felt the heat of him as he approached, and then the faintest brush of his lips on the apple of my cheek. The camera went off and we both flinched; his breath felt scalding against my skin. His resentment was palpable, intertwined with us everywhere we touched, and I smothered my own irritation at his dramatics.
Beneath the heavy tension, my thumbnail began to tremble against his throat, so I pressed it in further, pricking into his skin.
Alastor growled, gripping me harder, pulling me closer, and his nose and chin pressed into the side of my face as he pretended to kiss me. His teeth waited just behind those parted lips, and I knew they wanted to savage me. I almost wanted him to try.
But he knew better.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 4/6
Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Podrick Payne/Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Podrick Payne & Arya Stark, Podrick Payne & Gendry Waters
Characters: Arya Stark, Gendry Waters, Podrick Payne
Additional Tags: this is approaching crack, Everyone is Queer, Bisexual!Arya, bisexual!Gendry, bisexual!Pod, good pals and study buddies gendrya, Jealous Gendry, i didn't mean for both of them to be horny bitches, they just turned out that way, they did it to themselves, Lighthearted, this WILL end in smut, queer in that every queer person is sexually linked L word style, ASoIaF, GoT, Gendrya - Freeform, Modern AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Westeros, Alternate Universe - College/University, other characters are mentioned but it's not important so i didn't tag them under characters, huge bisexual chaos, Friends to Lovers, gendry is a bottom, crack but they fall in love, threesome?
Summary:
uni pals Arya and Gendry are bi as heck and also very into each other.
lancelot x reader; the second biggest love potion fiasco in cradle since the days of alice i (2/4)
You never quite established your feelings concretely to yourself.
And you never quite make it to the washroom, but you do make it to Kyle. In fact, everything you ate since this morning establishes itself very concretely on Kyle’s polished shoes.
“Oi!” he exclaims and pulls you into the washroom to finish the job.
“I’m so sorry,” you groan after you finish. He gently lets your hair back down and presses the toilet handle down with a foot.
“Don’t you worry,” Kyle replies amiably. “They’re rain boots. A little puke isn’t gonna do anything.” Then he fixes you with a scrutinizing look. “Are you feeling okay?” Without waiting for a reply, he smacks a hand to your forehead to check your temperature. “No fever.”
“There was this punch,” you say, fumbling for the toilet paper. You pull out a large wad and bend down to get at his shoes.
“No, hey, seriously—“ Kyle also pulls out some toilet paper and starts wiping furiously at both his boots, “—I told you, it’s fine—“
“But—“
He takes the other wad of toilet paper from you and gives you a wry look as he wicks the last of it off. “Anyway,” he asks, diverting the topic. “You’re saying this punch got to you?”
“I drank it and suddenly felt nauseous,” you reply, “but I haven’t seen any other people sick so I think it may have just been me.”
“Don’t you have a stomach of steel? That’s a surprise.” What is that supposed to mean, you think, but Kyle continues. “Good thing you puked it up though. Feeling well enough to get back to the party?”
You open your mouth to say yes. Then you remember that you’d rudely fled from Jonah and King Lancelot with no explanation moments before and you’d made eye contact and something felt really weird—so you say no instead. Kyle gets up to wash his hands. He peers over at you, eyes narrowed in concern, but you shake your head.
“I don’t really want to dance,” you explain. That’s not a lie.
“Oh,” Kyle says with a nod. He steps aside to let you wash your hands too. “Tired?”
You finish washing with a weak smile. “No, I’m just not very good at it.”
“Me too,” Kyle says thoughtfully, giving you a smile. “But I wouldn’t let that stop me. And it shouldn’t stop you either. From having fun, I mean. Take it from a bona fide doctor.” He holds the door open for you as you both leave. “To be healthy, one must maintain a good quality of life. Thusly, the best clinically proven method is to give no f—”
As Kyle is saying this, and as you’re listening faithfully because Kyle is profound and knows how to live, the thunder of many footsteps sounds down the hall. You turn your head, and your eyes widen when you find a crowd of men and women alike surging forward.
“Holy,“ Kyle says mid-sentence and pulls you to the side.
“Where is he?” a woman cries out as they pass by. Identically impassioned inquires chorus after. It’s like watching a storm of crows traverse the corridor. You stay close to Kyle, absolutely baffled.
Who? Kyle mouths to you, and you look to him and shrug, equally lost and equally curious.
/
You find out exactly who when you find the main hall significantly emptier than it was before. There are still some nobles here and there, socializing. Edgar and Zero are nowhere to be seen. Jonah comes running up to the both of you.
“Have you seen King Lancelot?” Jonah demands. He has a faintly disheveled appearance. He looks like he’s on the verge of passing out.
“No,” Kyle says.
“No,” you say. “Jonah, are you all right?”
“No,” Jonah says in despair. “I failed our liege lord. I lost him in the chaos.” He brushes back his hair and sets a hand on his hip in determination. “We must send out a squadron of men to rescue King Lancelot. We’ve already lost a great number, but we will need to gather the remainder of our forces—”
“Hold up, hold on, wait,” Kyle interrupts. “What’s going on here? Explain. What chaos? We lost some number of forces? As in there are injured people? And Lance needs rescue? And why are you looking like you’ve narrowly escaped death?”
Jonah takes in a deep breath and glares. “I did narrowly escape death. There are no injured but there will be! We currently have no knowledge of King Lancelot’s whereabouts. He’ll be torn to shreds!”
Torn to shreds?
You grimly start imagining enemies like disciples from the Magic Tower and ball your hands into fists at the thought of King Lancelot being hurt. Jonah’s state of disarray is enough to convince you that whichever adversaries infiltrated the ball must be formidable indeed. You can’t do much, but you want to do what you can. And you don’t like the thought of King Lancelot being in danger, alone.
“Then we must find King Lancelot immediately!” you say with a nod, and Jonah sighs in relief to have someone on his side.
Kyle then flicks your forehead, to which you exclaim ow! “Slow down. Look at those people standing around unruffled. Whatever happened, Lance probably isn’t in any mortal peril.” While you take in the truth of this, he fixes his gaze on Jonah. “Answer my question—what chaos,” Kyle says in exasperation.
Jonah takes in a deep breath. And then he says, “It all started ten minutes ago."
/
Alice left abruptly after running into King Lancelot. Jonah asked if King Lancelot was in need of anything. King Lancelot shook his head. Several women approached King Lancelot and Jonah both. This did not come as a surprise because King Lancelot commands utmost respect and reverence, and Jonah comes as a surefire, but respectfully distant, second. Because they were by the table of food, men and women and some of their soldiers flanked the two of them. The purple punch had looked unreasonably appetizing when Alice drank some, so Jonah planned to acquire some for himself and King Lancelot, only to find that the punch bowl was completely empty. In righteous indignation, when he tried to determine how exactly the bowl could be empty before King Lancelot could partake, he found that everyone else had already taken some for themselves—
/
“Jonah!” Kyle groans. “Twenty words or less.”
“They were like madmen,” Jonah whispers, staring down a million-mile boulevard. You wave a hand in front of his eyes. He doesn’t blink. “We suddenly came to our senses and realized we were in a pit of monsters. The hunger in their eyes…” He shudders. “There were so many hands at once. They reached—“
“So you guys were mauled,” Kyle concludes, “by very audaciously touchy nobles. And maybe some of our men.”
“There was something weird about it,” Jonah says. “But yes. You could say that. However, our priority is to find King Lancelot. We both escaped by the skin of our teeth and split up on the double staircase.”
“But then you would’ve just reunited at the top,” Kyle points out.
“We split up after that too!” Jonah snaps. “He went left and I went right.”
“Kyle, that crowd,” you say. “Maybe they were chasing after King Lancelot?” You gather your skirts and look determinedly towards the large double staircase.
A hand finds itself on your arm, restraining you.
“No, not alone. It’s not safe, Alice,” Jonah says, genuinely apprehensive. You marvel at how this has managed to even overtake the Queen of Hearts, and against your better judgment, you find yourself receiving a healthy dose of fear as well. If this proved formidable even to the King and Queen of the Red Army…
Kyle remains unaffected. He scoops a gloved finger into the empty punch bowl, staining his fingertips purple. When he holds it closer to examine, his eyes narrow in sudden understanding.
“I get it now,” Kyle says.
“You do?” Jonah asks. “Then we must—“
Kyle looks at Jonah wryly. “Someone spiked the punch with a love potion.” He waggles his fingertip before your and Jonah’s eyes. Against the ivory glove, the stain becomes pale amethyst. But if you look closely, you can see the faint residue of a glittering pink.
“They added something with magic crystals,” Kyle explains. “Since they’re pink, I’m guessing aphrodisiacs. They’re probably more powerful than the old fashioned shrubs you find in the forest.”
“And judging from how this took effect,” Jonah says thoughtfully, “this would mean that you fall in love with the first person you see after drinking.” His eyes are appraising when he turns to you. His gaze is sharp with consideration. “Maybe that’s why you got nauseous the moment you drank the punch.”
You blink. That would make sense. Because even if you’re not necessarily immune to magic attacks, ingesting magic might trigger an entirely different—
Jonah continues, “Since you’re already in love with King Lancelot, your body rejected the potion.”
What?
“What?” Kyle says. “That makes no sense. Even if I agree individually with that first part only.”
“I’m not in love with King Lancelot,” you splutter and try to return to the most important matter at hand. “Everyone who drank the punch is technically under a spell then, right? Then we need to break this spell somehow. Fight magic with magic. That’s what I—“
“Avoiding the topic,” Jonah murmurs.
“That’s not—“ you say desperately, but to no avail, thanks to Kyle.
“Agreed,” Kyle says under his breath, but shakes his head. “All right. First things first, find Lance. If he hasn’t already realized and broken the spell himself, then he’s the only one who can halt any magic here and we’ll need his and your magicking abilities. Second—where are Edgar and Zero? We’re going to need their manpower.”
Jonah’s eyes turn dark with fury. “That treasonous scoundrel came, he saw, and he laughed. Who knows where he dragged Zero off too? When this entire ordeal is over, those two will pay.”
Chapters: 17/?
Fandom: Mad Men
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Intimate Partner Violence
Relationships: Joan Holloway/Lane Pryce
Characters: Gail Holloway, Greg Harris, Kevin Harris, Michael Ginsberg, Peggy Olson, Stan Rizzo, Roger Sterling, Mona Sterling, Pete Campbell, Harry Crane, Ken Cosgrove, Lewis Pryce (Mad Men - OMC), John Hooker (Mad Men), Yelena Stachel (Mad Men - OFC)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, it's European, Berlin (City), Partners to Lovers, Office Romance
Summary:
Coiffed to perfection, wearing a brand new black and white-patterned caftan dress, Joan moved through the expansive and still fairly empty ballroom in an almost-manic haze, searching for familiar faces.
When she spotted Lane across the room, polished and proud in his new tuxedo, and with his brother standing next to him dressed to the nines, the cinch in her chest loosened slightly, and she forced herself to slow her steps as she walked over.
Joan Harris does not run. She does not panic.
If she repeated this mantra enough, it might come true.
Georgina had been gifted a month off at the most perfect time, it wasn’t planned it just fell into her lap and she nearly cried when she realised. After working nonstop, flying back from London the day after New Year’s and working right through, Georgina was exhausted but content. Her mum told her that was all she could ever hope to be, as long as though she was content and happy, she could deal with anything. She tried to remember that when she couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough to read a script or to talk to Harry on Skype or some nights even brush her teeth before she passed out on top of a hotel bed.
It was hard but each day she learnt something new and climbed a little higher in the eyes of her co-workers. Georgina had something to prove and she was going to prove it. She’d survived working with the women who were so happy to tear her down, she’d shown them all that she was good at her job and deserved her role. But she was glad to get away, to be able to start working on a new project which came with a new job title, one she hadn’t shared with anyone yet.
Because tonight wasn’t about her and her promotion, it was about Harry and his album which was sitting on top of the charts, Georgina had cried when he told her, clutching her hand as he stared at the chart on his phone.
What felt like Harry’s entire phonebook was squashed into his house tonight, everyone celebrating him and his brilliance, his album in Georgina’s opinion was incredible and she sobbed every time she heard it, much to Harry’s delight. The kitchen was full of bodies, all either drinking or eating the Indian takeaway Anne had ordered an hour ago, Georgina was leaning back against the kitchen cupboard, her drink clutched in her hand. She almost didn’t feel like she fit here, everyone had known Harry for years, old school friends, family and people he’d known all his professional life.
“Wouldn’t hurt you to smile you know.” Gus nudged her as came and stood with her, a glass of red wine in his hand. He and Amy had turned up an hour ago with that honeymoon glaze to their eyes, they’d only just gotten engaged but Georgina had never seen them as happy. She loved seeing her friends so in love, though she feared Amy was one step away from becoming a bridezilla.
“I am.” She protested, taking another glance around the packed house, everywhere she looked there was another person, mostly someone she didn’t know. Harry had a lot of friends and though they’d been dating for a few months, the long spells Georgina spent away meant she hadn’t met many.
“Tell your lips cos as I can see is a pout.”
“Fuck off Gus.” She growled, not wanting to fight him her best friend but he pushed her buttons. He knew she wasn’t into socialising, she was getting better, coaxed out of her shell by Harry, but it still sent fear to her spine when she met someone new.
“What’s wrong? Harry is literally bouncing off the walls in there and you look like you’ve just attended a funeral.” He chomped on his poppadum as he spoke.
Georgina didn’t see any point in pretending everything was fine. “Do you think it’s weird that I’m here?”
Gus stopped mid chew, swallowed what looked like a painful amount of food and gave her the oddest look. “Why would it be weird?”
“I’m just his girlfriend.” She shrugged, everyone here seemed to hold a special part in Harry’s past or held a brick of his success. She just tagged along for the ride sometimes.
“You’re not just his girlfriend Georgina.” Gus rolled his eyes and Georgina felt a stab of betrayal.
“Then what am I?”
“I’m not here to label your relationship but it’s pretty clear you’re both madly in love with each other, your each other’s best friends, it’d be weird if you weren’t here.” he wrapped his arm around her, knowing she needed a bit of comfort.
“I just don’t want people doubting me.”
“Why are we still going on about this? You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, Harry loves you.”
“I don’t know if he does.” She admitted in a small voice, the doubt she pushed back daily creeping its way in.
Gus tutted, “Of course he does stop being stupid. He must tell you all the time.”
“We’ve never said it.”
“You’re joking?” he waited for her response and took in a little gasp of air when she shook her head. “It’s written all over his face Georgina, everyone can see it.” Georgina hoped it was true because what she felt for Harry was rapidly speeding past the point of just liking him and it had been for a while.
“There she is! My favourite girl.” Harry bounded into the room, banging his hip on the kitchen island. Georgina reached out to steady him. Harry’s lips tangled in her hair as he grinned.
“Alright Harry?” Gus laughed. “Congrats on the album mate, it’s phenomenal.”
“Thank you so much Gus.” Clutching at his heard, Georgina knew Harry was touched, he’d spent the day thanking people and each sounded as genuine as the last.
“I’m gonna leave you two alone.” He patted Georgina’s arm as he passed, smiling kindly at his friend.
“Where you been? I’ve missed you.” Harry asked, whispering in her ear. His grin reached from ear to ear, his dimples deeply sunk into his pink cheeks.
“You’ve been entertaining, I thought I’d let you do it alone.” Reaching up, she straightened out his shirt collar, the motorbike print giving her a smile; she’d worn it in bed while she was away in Germany last month.
“Why? Everyone wants to meet you.” He touched her cheek, his smile dimming just a little.
“I’m sure I’ll have time to meet them.”
“Of course and I mean they’re all going to be at our wedding.” He nudged her ribs, teasing with a smile that sent her heart fluttering.
“Shut up you idiot.” she rolled her eyes as his hands came to rest on her hips; Georgina knew people were looking at them. Anne was probably taking a photo of them, her favourite hobby.
“This is practically a practice run for our big day.”
“I hate you.” She grinned when his lips found her neck, Harry didn’t care that people were looking, he trusted everyone here and so Georgina let her arms snake around his neck.
“I know you do.”
*
Show at garage- g cries. With gem and anne. Fans see her
Georgina was sweaty, dry mouthed and happier than she’d ever been before. She’d spent the day lounging around in the green room of the Garage venue, eyeing up Harry in his bright pink jumper and laughing away with the girls in his band. The day had been a swirl of laugher, smiles and eating junk. Harry had been whisked around, calling radios stations around the world, talking to a journalist from The Sun and basically showboating all day. And once again Georgina found herself grateful for being allowed access to him.
Excitement had been building, she’d seen the crowd of fans waiting outside, they all knew the gig had sold out in minutes and they all kept getting giddy because Harry was currently number one in more countries than Georgina had ever heard of.
Harry was a blur of pink silk and black cotton as he whirled around the dressing room, Georgina sat on the dressing table her legs swinging as she watched him prepare. His hair was perfectly styled, his shirt teasingly unbuttoned and his pant outrageously attractive.
“Harry?” she called as he shoved a guitar pick into his pocket. His hands shook a little.
“Yeah?”
“Come here.”
“What?” he glanced up, confusion on his face, but he softened when Georgina held out her arms. Slowly he made his way to her, they were the only ones in the room so she took her time in admiring him, her golden boy who was shining so brightly today.
She wrapped her arms around him as he came to a stop between her legs, his arms holding her tight. His heart was slamming into his chest. “You are going to be amazing out there.” She vowed, squeezing him.
He didn’t say anything, she knew he wouldn’t agree. “Please don’t worry, everyone out there loves you and wants to be here and even if you forget all the words and sound shit, I’ll be there singing along and cheering for you.”
“You promise?” he mumbled into her neck.
“I promise, I’m going to be stood right at the front, so if you forgot anything you can just look at me and I’ll sing the words to you.”
She felt him smile, “Okay. I’ll be looking for you.”
“I have so much faith in you Harry and I’m so happy I’m finally seeing you perform.”
“I’ve only been asking you for years to come to a show!” he lifted his head, staring at her with his mouth wide open.
“I was stupid back then. I didn’t know how much of a heartthrob you were.” Pushing back a strand of hair which had fallen from his quiff, she grinned as he sighed.
“I hoped you’ve learnt the error of your ways.”
“Of course, you’re my pretty rockstar now.”
“Thank you.” She knew, by the smile on his face and the weakened shaking in his hands that he wasn’t thanking her for thinking he was pretty or a rockstar, but for distracting him from the nerves threatening to tear him apart.
Before she had chance to reply, the door swung open, the stage manager appearing. “Sorry guys we’re about ready for you Harry.”
They both knew their time was up, Georgina had to leave and Harry had to pull on his performance face. “Good luck out there, be the brilliant person you are, okay?”
“I’ll try my best.”
“That’s all I ask.” She kissed him hard, hoping he felt every bit of pride she had in him and every inch of luck she was wishing him.
*
She could feel people staring; her name was being mumbled and muttered all around her, phones creeping up in her direction as she stood alone at the back of the room. She didn’t think anyone would recognise her and if they did, that they wouldn’t care, but judging by the glares she was receiving, people definitely cared.
Someone pushed into her, she stumbled forward and she found herself remembering the time she was pushed to the ground in France. Wrapping her arms around herself, she wished she had a hoodie she could hide in not the black leather jacket she’d chosen. Georgina glanced around hoping to see Gemma or Anne or anyone she knew, but she accidently locked eyes with a girl who stood staring at her.
Whipping her eyes forward, Georgina stared ahead at the tiny stage where the fog was starting to rise. She knew she’d be forgotten about when Harry came on.
“Are you Harry’s girlfriend?” Georgina felt someone tap her shoulder, turning she found the girl from moments ago directly beside her.
“My name is Georgina.”
“Yeah but you’re Harry’s girlfriend right?” this was new for Georgina, she’d never been recognised before, not without Harry next to her, but she should have known they’d be looking out for her, suddenly her post about tonight on Instagram didn’t seem such a good idea.
“That’s not really your business.”
“Why are you out here though? Shouldn’t you be backstage?” A group had formed around them now, Georgina felt trapped.
“Yeah, Harry would have his girlfriend at the side of the stage.” Another girl piped up. Georgina wanted to tell them that she’d just left Harry backstage, that she was stood with them because she was a fan and this was the best spot in the house. But now she doubted that.
“I’m just here to enjoy the show, just like you lot.” she smiled at them. “And can you please not take photos of me, it’s rather rude.” She asked a redheaded girl who sheepishly shoved her phone into her pocket.
“Can you get him to meet us?”
Her heart sank a little, knowing she was means to getting to Harry. “That’s not something I can arrange I’m sorry.”
“Fuck off of course you can, there’s no need to be a bitch.”
“Please don’t swear at me.” she took a step back, ready to retreat into the dressing room again and hide away until they could leave. But Georgina had promised Harry she’d be there and he was more important than these girls. “I’m here to enjoy the show and to see Harry perform, let’s all just enjoy tonight yeah?” she pushed away from them, leaving them behind to discuss her and post about the experience online. A few more people were now looking at her, probably working out who she was, but none of them approached her and she was free to escape to the toilets.
Georgina’s fingers trembled as she text Gemma. She wanted to text Harry too and tell him that she dealt with the situation and survived but she knew she’d have to keep the incident to herself, he’d never forget it if she was being harassed at his shows.
She wanted to be there, like any girlfriend would, she wanted to be able to ignore the comments and fear and support Harry
Now she was singing along, her hand clasped around Gemma’s as her and Anne and Robin joined Georgina right at the front of the stage. Her neck ached from staring up for so long, but Harry was mesmerising, she couldn’t look away as he played every chord and sang every lyric with more passion than she thought was possible.
When he looked down and met her eyes during slow moments, her heart felt fit to burst, she practically swooned at him and she knew he was loving every moment of it.
Her ears rang when he started playing the notes of a One Direction song, the crowd going even crazier. Georgina didn’t know the words, but that didn’t stop her from swaying along and tapping her feet to the beat. Harry’s smile lit the room more than the spotlights, his happiness radiating from him like a beam of light. He was incredible and by the end of the set, Georgina’s make up had track lines from where she’d cried. Her pride was immeasurable but she didn’t think it matched up to Anne’s who had sobbed the entire time.
They were taken into the back before the last song finished, bundled into the dressing room but Georgina was restless.
“He’ll be here in a minute.” Anne chuckled when she saw Georgina biting her thumb.
“I know.” She nodded, knowing she probably looked crazy.
“He’s quite the performer isn’t he?”
He’s a show off and it’s spectacular.” Georgina felt angry with herself all over again that she’d never given Harry a chance earlier, she’d missed out on this side of him, she’d never get to see him flouncing about on stage with his bandmates but she knew she’d have so many more performances to see.
When Harry came into the room, she saw his dimples first and then he was jumped on by Anne and Gemma, and he vanished from her view. They were clinging to each other, so proud and happy and Georgina didn’t want to burst their bubble.
“Get over here Georgina.” Anne demanded, her arm flying out. “And you too Robin, love.”
Georgina found herself tucked under Harry’s arm, his black shirt damp and smelly while his hair dripped down his back. Georgina had never been more attracted to him. They all hugged for a little while longer, until it was only Harry and Georgina left.
Harry stared at her and she watched him, clinging to his side, “I don’t really know what to say.”
“Did you enjoy it?” his smile faltered.
“That’s a silly question, of course I did.” Wrapping her free arm around his waist, she hugged him, Harry melted into her touch. “I’m so, so proud of you, you were amazing.”
“You mean that?” his smile was bashful and she felt like pinching his pink cheeks.
“Would I lie to you?”
His grin widened his dimples more adorable than she’d ever seen them. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“I am too.”
Harry was a handsy drunk. And Georgina was starting to hate batting his hands away, she wanted to throw him against a wall and kiss him until he went dizzy. But they were surrounded by people they’d never met before and it was the last thing they should be doing.
He was also a loud, excitable drunk and so far he’d spilled about ten people’s drinks and drunkenly taken hundreds of selfies. But when he spoke to Georgina, she wasn’t even sure he was as drunk as he seemed, he was just letting loose and she couldn’t help but join in with him.
Tonight was a celebration, much like last night but louder and more alcohol. Anne and Robin had left, claiming that they didn’t need to see Harry “legless and embarrassing.”
“I wanna do very, very naughty things to you Georgina Honey Evans.” He purred into her ear, having pulled her from the throngs of people into a dark corner.
“Oh yeah? Like what?” biting down on her lip, she stared up into his darkened eyes.
“I wanna make you scream my name, I wanna make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before and I want you, all of you so much it hurts.” She had to squeeze her thighs together, his words doing crazy things to her body.
“I want you too.” She whispered into his ear, nibbling at his ear lobe until he shivered around her and his fingers gripped hard onto her hips. They both broke into giggles, the alcohol feeling like bubbles in their veins and floating to cloud their brains with inappropriate thoughts.
Georgina suddenly didn’t care that they were in a room full of people all there for Harry. She didn’t care about the fans or the paps outside, all she cared about was feeling Harry’s hands on her body and hearing him sigh her name.
She wanted him in bed, underneath her where she could make him squirm and where his hands could do dangerous things to her desperate body. She wanted to show him just how proud of him she was and how sexy she thought he looked on stage. She wanted to be the one making him sweat not the stage lights or energetic dancing he partook in.
“Take me home.” she whispered, clutching at his shirt, the temptation to tear it off was unreal. She hadn’t expected the night to end like this, but now she wasn’t sure what other way it could ever have ended. They both had built up energy and tension and they were both each other’s favourite release.
“I hope that wasn’t a badly timed One Direction joke?” he chuckled, biting gently against her shoulder. Georgina held back a moan.
“Not at all baby, take me home and do all those bad things to me.”
“Fuck.” He growled, grabbing her hand and practically running the pair of them through the room. He didn’t say one word to anyone; Georgina couldn’t help but giggle behind him as he groaned at a slow drink server.
She’d never seen Harry perform before, but she couldn’t help but be excited about seeing him again if every night ended like this.
“What am I doing? What about you? You were full of dimples and giggles last night and then this morning you left my bed cold. You never used to walk out on girls, Harry.”
