astrology is real, witchcraft is real, magic is real, dreams whisper about the future sometimes, miracles happen and soulmates exist! and thats the tea!
and the moon loves you and watches over you every night! run n tell that!
Harry lifted a brow, glancing at how Y/N’s face pulled up in curious thought. He hadn’t realized she’d inched so close until her hands were bracing herself against his thigh. Something in the atmosphere had become suddenly tight at the expanse of her sly grin.
“Do you want to kiss me right now?”
“I change my mind
—, ” Harry’s eyes narrowed, “
—
dare.”
“Fine,” Y/Nleaned closer, clumsily bumping her crystal wine glass to his. Harry could see all the swirls of color in her eyes in the dim lighting, all the lust that clouded her regularly sweet face. “I dare you to kiss me.”
Y/N gasped when a cherry chapsticked mouth pressed to not her own mouth, but to her jaw instead. Harry took no notice of her surprise, instead enjoying her small reaction to such chastity as a jaw kiss.
“More?”
Her eyes opened and to her disappointment, Harry swung the neck of the wine bottle between his fingers, giving a suggestive nod of his head towards her empty wine glass. She quickly covered up with a laugh.
“No, I’m okay.”
“C’mon baby, drink with me…”
With a shake of her head, she pulled her glass for a sip, throwing a loud hey when his long fingers took a hold to her wrist. Y/N grumbled as he wrestled her from her comfortable sat position on the couch to down under him, letting out a loud oof at the expanse of Harry’s rough man handling of her.
“Harry, get off of you log!”
“I don’t think so,” Harry cradled her flushed face. “I have a dare to fulfill, baby.”
Y/N’s eyes bugged, suddenly hyper aware of his whole body pressed tightly to hers, watching as his baby pink lips speak around every word. “Look a’ me.”
Ring adorn fingers spread across her cheeks and underneath her jaw. A strangled mewl emitted as he brazenly trailed open mouthed kisses across her jaw, warm palms skittering down Y/N’s torso to hike up the loose hem of her t-shirt.
Thumbs circled against the skin of her thighs as Harry’s own breaths hummed against the crook of her neck. Subconsciously did her limp wrists fall over his shoulders, feeling the muscles of his back flex as he leaned his head to kiss lower down her neck.
“You’re an angel. My angel.”
“And you’re utterly wine drunk,” She laughed as he dug his head deeper into her the warm skin of shoulder.
But then he was kissing her again, meeting his advancement halfway in a crash of teeth and lips and sweet wine. Y/N felt the grind of his hips to her own, letting a breathy moan.
“Y/N,” Harry breathed against your mouth, “Truth or dare?”
“Hmm, truth.”
He thumbed at the hem of your shirt, musing, “Do you want me to take this off?”
