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"You titans are all so narcissistic" his chuckle echoed through, bouncing off the cracked halls' walls
"You all say that I will be the death of everything... and maybe you're right" he shrugged with a small smile that was devoid of any joy "maybe I will be the death of everything..." he mused, turning just enough to look at the giant behind him.
"Because I'm the bastard who's going to kill a titan" Gary promised.
TW: smut and horniness, no actual sex. I know I just did a virgin!y/n thing about Harry but…………. Consider this the prequel to that. Harry helps y/n get herself off bc she’s waiting til marriage. Smut, horniness, masturbating, language, etc.
“Hazza?” Y/N’s soft voice broke the silence, panic was evident in her tone.
“What’s wrong, Y/N? What happened?”
“I feel weird.” she shifted, rubbing gently against the arm of the couch.
Harry rotated on the basement couch to look at her. “Are you sick?”
“No… well maybe. I don’t know,” she whined and Harry placed a hand to her forehead.
“You don’t seem sick,” he mused. “What does it feel like?”
You described the sensation in vivid detail and his cheeks heated up with realization.
“What’s wrong with me?” she moaned tearfully as Harry licked his lips and responded slowly, “Tell me more?”
“It hurts… down there. It doesn’t quite hurt… it’s burning… throbbing, that’s it.”
“You’re horny.” The words fell like bricks into her ears.
“What?”
“Horny, sweetie. It’s when you-“
“ ‘Kay, Harry, I get it.” she snapped in annoyed disbelief.
“What made you horny, Y/N?” he had to ask.
“Well,” she began nervously, chewing her bottom lip. “You were holding me really close and whispering to me… and I know we’re just friends. And I’m sorry. But the …”
“I got you all bothered?” Harry couldn’t hide his proud grin. “Woah. I thought a girl like you would have higher standards!”
“Nope. Low as hell,” she couldn’t help but joke around with him. “I don’t know why but it was so fvcking sexy and I thought it was butterflies but then they went down.”
“Wow.” Harry began nervously moving his hands around. “Do you still want to wait until marriage or… do I need to teach you how to get yourself off?”
“You mean, masturbate?”
“Well… yes,” Harry settled finally.
“How often do you masturbate?” you couldn’t help but ask, laughing when his face reddened.
“Questions about my sex life, hm? My, you’re getting gutsy.” he smirked, looking directly into her concerned eyes and causing the throbbing to advance. “Every week or so… sometimes more often than others.”
“Oh.” Another panicked thought entered her naïve mind. “What if my parents find us…”
“Do you use tampons?”
“No,” she replied slowly, stroking her ponytail. “Never tried putting anything up there.”
“Does your mom?” He quickly emphasized when he saw your face. “Well obviously,” he chuckled. “You exist, don’t you?”
You erupted into choking laughter and he shushed you.
“Does your mom use tampons, I meant? Your sister?”
“My sister does,” she said quickly.
“Can you get one from her?”
“I’ll see.” She started up the basement stairs, in a mission. Her dad was in the kitchen making dinner and he questioned where she were going in such a rush and she just laughed it off, saying she needed a phone charger.
She returned from her sister’s room charger-free, but tampon in hand. She brought it proudly to Harry and dropped it in his cupped hands.
“Good dog. You fetched!” He snickered. “Do you want a cookie? Or a bone, I should say.”
“Ha-ha. You’re hilarious,” she grumped. “Now look at it, will that do?”
Harry opened the package and analyzed the tampon intently. “It’s thick,” he noticed. “Does it have to be?”
“They make ultra-thin ones now,” she said. “But that was the smallest one my sister had.”
“It will make do,” he placed it back into her smaller hand. “Now, what you need to do is to put it up in there and move it around. A specific spot—your g-spot—will feel amazing. Shove it back into that place until you cum. Sound good?”
Her cheeks reddened. That sounded horrible. “Wait, where is my g-spot?” She was also comically appalled that her best friend was practically teaching her how to fvck herself.
“You’ll find it. Also, go in the shower so you don’t mess up the floor.”
“What does an orgasm feel like?”
“Y/N, go.” Harry commanded. “You’ll figure it out.”
She walked stiffly into the bathroom, not wanting to irritate her throbbing pussy. She was terrified of shoving an object into herself to get off, but here she was.
She was afraid it would either hurt, or Harry was fvcking with her about being horny at all. Still, she removed her pants and underwear, stepped into the shower and gripped the tampon firmly. She wiggled it in, testing how deep it could go.
In and out? Around and around? What had Harry said?
It was pleasantly less painful than she had expected, but she couldn’t get over the fact that her best friend had gotten her horny.
The sensation she experienced when she finally got better was unexplainable. She had never dreamed that such a feeling could exist. She sat down, still half naked, on the toilet, put her head in her hands and laughed to herself.
Breathing hard, she threw the tampon away and put on her clothes. She walked out of the bathroom, the carpet squishing between her toes.
“How was it?” Harry looked up from his phone to examine her. “Did it help?”
She nodded slowly before wrapping her arms around him in a strong embrace.
“Careful,” he warned jokingly. “Don’t want anything else to happen to ya, do we?”
She continued hugging him and he felt an all-too-familiar feeling surge through his body. “Let’s just try and ignore each other for a minute,” he suggested. “We’ll feel better.”
“What do you mean?” She asked quizzically and he rolled his eyes. “Horny fiend,” he grunted. “You know damn well.”
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“Don’t cry, baby girl, it was only a dream,” Harry’s voice rasped tiredly as he sat up in bed, holding your head on his shoulder and massaging your back as you cried.
He was right, it was only a dream, but that was the terrible part.
You had gone back to the day you’d first met him, exchanging phone numbers, first hug, first kiss, holding hands, drunkenly confessing feelings.
Long car rides together, holding hands in parks, getting engaged, your wedding day.
Losing your virginity to him, a honeymoon filled with lazy make out sessions, swimming, and sex.
Holding each other during hard times, nursing each other when they were sick, hundreds of tiny hugs and I love yous.
Your entire relationship played in your mind like a cleverly crafted flashback video. Highlights of your love life, if you would, minus the sappy inspirational music. Things only the two of you would know.
Harry’s arms felt comfortable now, and familiar; too familiar. You were happy to be married now, and carrying his baby. You didn’t regret anything, but on nights like this, you were lonely for the playboy Harry you had fallen for in college.
You were hungry for the new crush feeling. You loved how Harry had forfeited his whole playboy reputation for you just to date you.
But it was all better because that boy was holding you now, rocking you softly to sleep.
You loved Shawn. You loved his dark eyebrows, his pink lips, his deep eyes, his rosy cheeks, and his everything else. A picture of him was permanently engrained in your mind. Every aspect of him was so kissable and cuddleable.
You found yourself staring at him night after night as he slept, but he never noticed. Until tonight.
“Baby?” he asked, stirring you from your trance. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” you said meekly as your stomach fluttered.
As if reading your thoughts, he placed his hand gently on your stomach, right where the flutters were.
“What—“ you asked in surprise and Shawn just smiled and slid his hands lower.
“Right there,” he commented.
“What are right where?”
“Butterflies,” he kissed your cheek and moved his hands lower to where you felt yourself throbbing.
“How do you know?” You asked, moaning as his fingered pulsed on your pussy.
“Hey…” a tender voice drew you from your restless sleep. You opened your eyes to see Shawn lifting on the bunk beside you with a look of concern on his face. As you rolled over to see him better, you asked, “What’s wrong, Baby?”
“You were whining, sweet girl. Are you okay?”
“I don’t feel good,” you admitted, sitting up and wrapping your arms around your legs.
You and Shawn had only been dating for a few weeks and you were still a bit nervous around him. Now having him sitting on your bed with you at 4:00 in the morning felt so wrong.
“Do you feel nauseous?” He began to ask, but you quickly interrupted.
“No. It’s not like that.” Taking a deep breath, you noted how adorable he looked with his sleep-tousled hair. “I’m cramping, Shawn, and it hurts really bad.”
“Y/N, Love,” he pouted, brushing a strand of sleepy hair out of your eyes. “Do you need some ibuprofen or anything?”
You shook your head, unable to get past how hot he was. “I took some before bed. It hasn’t been a full eight hours yet.”
“Oh. Okay.” He paused gently to let you clear your head. “Anything else?”
You shook your head again, wishing secretly for him to stay with you.
As if reading your mind, he tentatively asked if he could stay on your bed with you. You couldn’t miss the blush that covered his cheeks when you agreed.
He laid down beside you and grabbed a curl that had fallen lose from your braids. He tugged gently on it, grinning broadly when it bounced back into place.
“I love you, baby,” you stated sleepily, noticing that Shawn’s cool, gentle manner was assisting the assuage of your pain.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” Shawn smiled with pleasant surprise as your eyelids fell closed.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” he asked and you said you were. He pulled you close to him and massaged your back to help you feel something other than the vicious ache of your middle.
