#w2s x reader

You were all getting the mic packs on, ready to be blindfolded and put into the cars that would drop you wherever in the Netherlands. Simon and Vik were teamed together, Tobi and Harry, you and Ethan. Josh would be waiting at the Amsterdam Lookout for the rest of you when you finished the challenges and made your way back to the city.

You had to surrender your phones, even before you got in the car you were patting your pocket to look for it.

Harry stands with you, helping clip the mic into place. It's the little things he does, so considerately, so gently, that make you love him even more.

"You'll be alright," he says softly, not wanting the boys to overhear him being soft and getting (lovingly) rinsed for it, "you and Ethan will have a right laugh. Still gonna beat you though."

"Shut up, me and Behz are the dream team."

"Still, I've told him to look after you, bring you back in one piece."

"You do realise we're in the Netherlands, not a warzone. I'll be fine. You worry too much."

He does. All the time. Except when it comes to his own safety and he does something stupid.

"I worry the perfect amount."

-

In the car, you're sat with Ethan, cameras on, ready to go.

You and Ethan have been good friends since Harry introduced you, acting like the stereotypical older brother/younger sister duo. You always had a good laugh whenever you were paired together, the same humor, same energy, no need to rein it in with each other. Maybe that won't be a good thing for this challenge, maybe you'll miss your flight home. Who knows.

You pull your blindfolds on, ready for the however long drive to wherever in the country.

"Ready?" Ethan asks.

"Ready." You confirm.

"You taken a travel sickness pill?" He asks, probably been asked by Harry to remind you before you set off.

"Yes, dad," you sigh, shaking your head with a laugh, "I am an adult, you know?"

"And I'd prefer Bog didn't kill me if he knew I let you get sick."

"He literally watched me take it this morning."

It wasn't anything major. If you were sat in the front and could see where you were going you were fine. But in the back of the car, blindfolded, no clue even what direction you were going, it wouldn't be great.

-

Eventually, after god knows how long and a million laughs with Ethan, you were instructed to keep walking. It was so difficult to get your bearings, there was a slight breeze, the rustling of leaves, birds chirping too.

"Oh, fuck me," you exclaim, walking head first into a tree.

Ethan, ever so helpful, laughs, but because it's him you can't help but laugh too.

"Mate, we're never getting back to Josh," you laugh, waiting to be instructed to take the blindfolds off, "we'll end up lost and miss the flight. I mean, look who we're up against. Simon and Vik are... Simon and Vik. Harry's just weirdly good at stuff like this, reading maps and that, and Tobi's Tobi. What are we?"

"Two idiots with more nipples than brain cells?"

That just makes the two of you laugh all the more.

You. Are. Fucked.

-

You're in the woods.

Like, literally dropped in the middle of the forest somewhere. You can't read a map, the compass isn't working, and there's no one around to even ask where you are.

"Nah, nah, Josh has done us dirty here, ya know!" You look to the left, trees. You look to the right, trees. At least there's a path, but neither of you know whether to go left or right.

"I'm never gonna see Harry again. Are there bears in Dutch woods?"

Ethan just laughs at you and pulls out the card that has the challenges and requirements for the video.

"We cannot use a method of transport for more than twenty minutes. We must use six methods of transport including a boat and a bike."

"Easy, boat in the city, bike in the city. We're calm." You comment.

"Get a new outfit chosen by your team mate. Get a photo with the I Am Amsterdam sign. Eat a stroop waffle - mate I had four of them earlier."

"I had two for breakfast this morning, reckon that counts?" It doesn't, Josh isn't that nice.

"Wear wooden clogs. Find a windmill. Visit a coffee shop-"

"Waheeey." There's no way you and Ethan are going to a coffee shop for a latte.

"Get a photo with something orange, and the finish line is the Amsterdam Lookout."

-

You two end up wandering the woods for age. You put the compass around your neck and try to get it to work, as if you'd actually used a real compass before.

You end up spinning in circles trying to figure out where North is.

Ethan has the map trying to figure out which area of green could be where you are.

"I'll text Harry, ask where he's been dropped." you suggest, patting your pockets before realising. "For fuck sake."

Ethan, used to you and Harry, just shakes his head. "You two are fucking co-dependent man."

"I'm actually usually so smart though, today I can't even work a bloody compass or remember that I don't have my phone."

-

You two eventually find a building, presumably a visitor centre for the woods you've been dropped in.

"You go in, I'm not asking," you argue with Ethan in a hushed voice.

"I'm not asking, you do it."

He doesn't even care about asking, he's only arguing because he knows you don't want to.

"It's your video."

"You're such a fucking child, just ask."

"I'll tell Faith you're being mean to me."

"Fine... I'll ask."

The true brother/sister duo of the Sidemen family.

The lady kindly shows you where on the map you are, giving instructions on how to get to the nearest train station.

Success.

But, you have to walk all the way back through the woods. With Ethan. Winding you up every step of the way.

Great.

You end up finding a play park, the camera cuts to you pushing Ethan on the swing, the two of you acting like little kids as you take turns going down the slide.

The camera also catches when you go absolutely flying off the end of the slide, thanks to the Gym Shark leggings. Landing on the ground with a dull thud and a groan.

"Oh, fuck me."

Ethan's doubled over laughing as you lay flat on the ground, hands holding your probably bruised butt.

"Where's Harry when you need him, he'd kiss it better." you groan from the ground.

"I fucking bet he would." Ethan's in hysterics.

-

You head back the way you came, Ethan taking charge since he can read the map, kind of... he's at least better than you.

"I just don't think we're gonna win, you know."

"Now why would you say that? Why put that energy out into the universe?" Ethan asks offended, turning and walking backwards to face you.

"Because look at us!" you laugh, gesturing to the endless rows of trees around you. "and be honest, Ethan, when we're together we've got one brain cell that bounces between us. What hope have we got?"

"Okay, fair."

-

You end up walking the wrong way. You'd stopped to talk to a guy who ended up directing you left instead of right which added so much time onto the journey and no challenges had been completed yet.

"We could GTA someone off their bike," Ethan suggests as plainly as if he's talking about the weather.

"I could just flash them instead, probably the more legal option."

"Mmh, don't think bog would be too happy though."

"True... wonder where he is right now."

"Fuck sake... you're making me feel so wanted right now."

The dry huomour is typical you and Ethan. The way you both keep a straight face until it's quiet and then burst into laughter.

Hopefully getting closer and closer to civilisation, Ethan ends up sneezing right onto the map.

"Bro! What are you doing? Sneezing into the fucking map?"

Wrong thing to say, Ethan decides it's funny to chase you with the map trying to rub the sneeze covered map.

You end up wasting another five minutes acting like children.

-

You find out you're going the right way, walking through the woods still, but at least there's houses, or shacks.

“Imagine they’re just preying on the weak here, snatching them up out here.” Ethan says, gestuing to the eerie looking hut in between the trees.

“Nah, why would you even say that? And we’ve got to walk how far through the woods?” 

“What? I’m just saying.” 

“I wish I was on Harry’s team.”

-

“Bet you Harry and Tobi are doing so well, too. Like, Harry’s proper good at this type of stuff and Tobi’s Tobi.” All that’s in front of you is wood. No train station in sight even after what feels like hours of walking.

“I’m gonna need the coffee shop after all of this. We’ve no hope man.” Ethan agrees.

-

"Station!" Ethan yells, pointing to the sign for the train station, "in English!"

"Oh my god! We are so back on!"

You and Ethan go to high five, miss miserably and try again. The train to Amersfoort perfectly timed for your 20 minute time limit.

-

You eventually make it to Amersfoort.

You get your stroop waffles and an actual coffee, needing some sort of pick me up after an absolute trek through the forest.

You end up having to get a taxi, the bus just not a viable option and you'd rather save those methods of transport for when you're closer to the city. So, you're sitting on the bench killing time before the taxi arrives.

"Creature was shit," you start rapping Harry's diss track.

"Why did have to wait four months for it," Ethan joins in, nodding along to the imaginary beat you both know by heart.

"You said you were evolving but you didn't do bits," you sing together, "you just evolved into the first male with tits."

"In all fairness, JJ had bigger tits than me back then."

"So did I."

"Fair. Harry won the diss track era though, can't lie. I was singing that for months after it. Still do sometimes in the shower."

-

The taxi was a great shout. Every bit of doubt about coming last had vanished. You and Ethan were cocky, so sure of yourselves.

You decided to stop and get your outfits for the challenge. The hardest decision was, do you be nice to one another and give each other something nice, or do you humiliate one another?

Of course, you go with the latter.

Ethan ends up looking like a mixture between Arthur, the cartoon character, and a suburban dad.

“You look like I’d see you at the club and you’d go ‘Do you know who my father is?’” Your lovely camera man comments.

“But none of us do.” You reply.

“Oi!” 

Ethan doesn't go easy on you either. You end up with a bright pink blouse that even your granny wouldn't wear, a matching pink cardigan and a long, black skirt.

"This is a fit, y'know. Ready for the Bingo at 7pm." You pose for the camera like it's Paris fashion week.

Somehow, even dressed like this, you end up paying a guy 250 Euros to give you a lift. That finish line getting closer and closer.

-

The car journey was a great laugh. The guys had the tunes on, you and Ethan looked utterly bizarre, dressed like weirdos and dancing in the back of some cramped, Dutch man's car.

You end up getting pulled over by the police because of the amount of people in the car.

The officer looks at you and Ethan like you had twelve heads and seven arms and asked if you were okay.

It was all good in the end, they waved you off and the driver with perfect comedic timing played Fuck the Police through the speakers as you drove away.

-

You make it into Amsterdam, a 20 minute taxi and a 20 minute car ride mean two modes of transport, plus walking and a train meant you only needed bike and boat which would be easy once you got further into the city.

"Coffee shop!" Ethan announces, and the two of you head in.

"Oh, mate! Red velvet cake!"

It obviously wasn't just a normal red velvet cake, you're in Amsterdam afterall.

You walk back outside, standing on a bridge to stay out of the way of the rest of the crowd.

Ethan halves the cake and both of you eat half. It'd be a while before it kicked in, so you decided to make the most of that time and get the rest of the challenges done.

The I Am Amsterdam sign has been removed, the only one now at the airport and fuck going back there, you wouldn't even have time for that. The shoe shop you went into didn't have wooden clogs, and the finish line was 'miles North'... and the edible was kicking in. All you and Ethan could do was giggle at every little thing.

"Could just sack it all off and go to the finish line?"

-

"Windmill!"

A tiny, ceramic windmill sat in the store front. That counts, it spins and everything.

Sorted.

-

You end up seeing a boat on the canal, step on and step off. Boat challenge done.

-

You're wandering down the street, heading in the general direction of the finish line.

“Mate, I’m getting higher and higher, and the higher I get the more I just want Harry.” 

“Me too.” 

“Don’t you mean Faith?”

“No.” 

"Fair."

-

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ETHAN!" You point to the overly large clogs on the ground in front of a shop.

"CLOGS!"

You each take turns stepping into them to get proof for the cameras, challenge complete.

-

After a bit of debating wether a guy driving you on a bicycle counted as the mode of transport, you decided it does. So you both hop in the back and the guy takes you towards the boat that will take you across the river right to the Amsterdam Lookout.

“And I would bike five hundred miles.” You sing, holding the go-pro out in front of you and Ethan.

“And I would bike five hundred more.” He joins in.

“Just to be the girl who biked a thousand miles to end up with Bogo.” 

“You two are terrible, you know that?” 

“Er, how?” 

“You’ve only been away from him for like a few hours, and you’re sat there near salivating for the man.” 

“I’m sorry, but have you seen my man?” 

Yeah, okay, maybe it's sad that you miss Harry, but in all fairness Amsterdam is your place with him, first couples holiday and all that sentimental stuff, and you've had the special red velvet cake, and it's Harry Lewis, how could you not?

-

The ferry means you've completed the boat challenge legit, even better.

The closer you get to the look out, the more confident you are that you and Ethan have won.

The elevator inside is trippy as hell, even if you hadn't had the cake. Strobe lights moving with the way the lift goes up. Trippy, but cool as hell.

When you find josh, it's how marathon runners must feel beating their PR.

"Zerkaaa!" Ethan yells, finally seeing Josh.

"Joshuaaaa!" You mirror his excitement. "Who won?"

"You did!" He states with a grin.

"Yeaaah!" You and Ethan start celebrating, jumping, hugging, shouting.

What a win. You'd been so sure you were fucked after being dropped in the middloe of the woods like some sort of horror movie, then the guy giving you the wrong directions.

"What did you say earlier, Y/N? That we had one shared brain cell that bounces between us." Ethan laughs.

"We do, but that one brain cell was working overtime."

After you calm down a bit, buzzing you'd won your first Abandoned Challenge video, you ask Josh about Harry. "How far away is Harry?"

"Too far." He laughs, showing you on the map where Harry and Tobi are.

"Oh..."

"You sent us to a coffee shop that didn't sell coffee, by the way." Ethan tells Josh, not that he needs informing. You and Ethan are clearly faded, red eyes, giggling like children at the smallest thing.

"We got red velvet cake, it was class."

"Oh, for fuck sake," Josh sighs, laughing and shaking his head.

-

Simon and Vik turn up five minutes later. They'd tried to get on the same ferry across the river as you and Ethan but got stopped at the gate.

Harry and Tobi were like two hours away and with the flight home today you had to move the finish line to the hotel so you could all leave on time.

You'd changed out of the horrific old lady outfit Ethan gave you, back into one of Harry's SDMN hoodies and leggings. The full effect of the red velvet cake hitting as you sit walk back to the hotel to meet Harry and Tobi.

When you spot the tall blonde head you make a break for it, running and jumping onto his back.

"We won!" You yell in his ear without noticing your volume.

Harry and Tobi were in shock, looking at you and Ethan like they didn't believe it possible.

"Fuck off."

"No, I'm serious. Me and Ethan fucking smashed it! Got a red velvet cake too, I fell off a slide, paid some bloke to give us a lift, got stopped by the police too."

"You offered to flash someone so they'd give us their bike too!" Ethan grasses on you.

"You threatened to GTA someone for their bikes, mine was at least legal." You argue back, petty as always with Ethan.

Harry puts you down on the ground, taking out his own brownie as everyone talks about the days they've had. You tuck yourself into his side, faded and all you want is your man.

He passes you a quarter of the brownie, and Tobi, ever the responsible one tries to get you both to slow down.

"Mate, I need it after today, I fucking need it," Harry laughs, stuffing his mouth with weed brownie.

"Next time JJ has to cancel, you can be on my team," you smile dopily up at Harry, "We'll win for sure."

"Thanks, baby." He chuckles, brownie crumbs over his face.

"Oi, you didn't do fuck all, I read the map and asked people for directions," Ethan tells on you again. "All you did was talk about Bog."

"Er, I used the compass and got us the red velvet cake, you ginger prick."

Harry hates big events like this anyway, but you couldn't not invite people just because you didn't want a big event. The Sidement and partners alone were a lot, plus family, plus other very close friends. It was a lot, and neither of you would ever be able to say who not to invite. So, Harry had suggested renting the club that the Sidemen usually use for events in London, because fuck tidying up the house tomorrow after having everyone over, drinking and celebrating.

The night just ended up getting bigger and bigger. You wanted a cake, because obviously, and that then had to be big enough to cater to the massive guest list. Then you had to organise a caterer, because people would want food after a few drinks. Nothing too heavy, just picky bits, but again, there had to be enough for everyone.

It didn't matter how many of the girls had brought you over a glass of champagne, an XIX Vodka and lemonade, or a shot of something or other, no amount of alcohol would soothe your nerves.

Harry had been dragged into conversation with a group after group of friends, making his rounds as much as he hated it. The girls had pulled you away straight away too, for shots and dancing and the obligatory photo in the mirror in the toilets.

Despite everything running mostly smoothly, you were still on edge. The cake had gotten a tiny bit of damage in transport, the design smudged a little in the box but thankfully, one of the catering staff had managed to smooth it out and now it's only noticeable if you look for it.

Harry eventually manages to leave Freezy, Lux and Chip to their drinks, immediately finding you. You'd went to the bar for a virgin daiquiri, knowing if you ordered just an iced water you'd be (lovingly) rinsed by Freezy and Lux.

"Mate, why the fuck did we think this was a good idea?" He grumbles, standing behind you at the bar, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

"We have too many friends," you reply, leaning back in his arms as you wait for your drink, even just having him with you is calming. "We're gonna have to do all of this again when we get married, you know."

"Nah, we're eloping," he says in a way you're not sure if he's joking or not. "Vegas, Elvis wedding chapel, ten grand on black"

Again, not sure if he's joking or not.

"Fuck off," you laugh, playfully nudging him with your elbow, taking your drink with a thanks to the bartender, "your mum would kill us for a start, and when we have kids I'm not telling them we got married by the King of Rock."

"Vegas for the honeymoon then."

"We'll go for a few days but I'm not spending my honeymoon watching you piss away all of your money in the casino." You counter, taking a sip of the drink, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look at him.

"Just tell me you don't love me then."

"You're right, I'm only with you for your body and bank balance."

"Right, well I'll just take this back then, shall I?" He jokingly snaps, reaching for your hand with the stunning engagement ring on.

You two laugh as you clamp your hand shut so he can't touch it. Virgin daiquiri sloshing dangerously close to the edge of the glass, so you put it down on the bar before it can splash all over your dress.

"Nonononono!" you laugh, fighting with him to keep your hand. "I love you, not just your body and your wallet."

The two of you need a moment like this, in your own little bubble, taking the piss out of each other. The noise of the club fading in the background, just you and your man.

Harry turns you around, big arms wrapped around your waist, head dropping to your shoulder. "I'm so overstimulated. Everyone keeps hugging me and congratulating us and I'm like 'yep, thanks', cause what else do I say. I'm too wound up to get drunk and all the shots and drinks are doing fuck all."

You laugh quietly, picturing his awkard face when he doesn't quite know what to say, or doesn't like too much attention on him. Ironic really, considering his work. But, you know really he's glad your friends are all here and happy for the two of you. You also know that sometimes when he gets like this he just wants quiet.

"Bog!" Ethan calls across the club, waving Harry over.

Harry groans against your shoulder. "Can we not just go home."

You hold up a hand to Ethan, gesturing to give Harry two minutes.

"Come on, let's have five minutes of quiet."

You lead him out past the bar area, to the room the venue had set aside to keep any gifts your friends had brought safe. There's a couch, table full of gift bags, and most importantly, the bass from the music is dulled.

Harry sighs in relief when he sits down on the couch, slouched back, eyes closed. He loves his friends, loves socialising, but sometimes it's just too much. All this fuss, celebrations, the stress to make sure everything goes well. It's only the engagement party, the stress will be tenfold on the lead up to your actual wedding day.

There's a few bottle gift bags on the table, you'd agreed to go through them tomorrow and send out thank you notes for everyone who brought a gift. There's a lot, which honestly should have been expected because of the sheer amount of friends you have.

You pick up one, labelled 'Love from Josh and Freya', inside a bottle of Dom Perignon.

"Oh, mum and dad got us the good stuff," you smile, holding up the bottle.

"Yours or mine?"

"Josh and Freya."

That causes the two of you to chuckle. Josh and Freya really are like mum and dad sometimes. The amount of times Harry has almost ended up in A&E or worse during Sidemen videos and Josh is the responsible one who looks after him. The numerous times Freya has been your big sister since you and Harry got together, always looking out for you, being your shoulder to cry on, giving the best advice when you need it.

You decide to save it until you'd enjoy it, instead you put the bottle back in the gift bag and plop down onto the couch next to Harry, sitting side on, legs draped over his lap.

Harry takes your hand in his, holding up your hand so the engagement ring sparkles in the light. He hadn't told you but he'd agonised over finding the perfect ring for months before even buying it, then agonised over where and when to propose for just as long.

He knew neither of you would want a public proposal, nothing too cliche like Paris, or one of those heart arches lined up on the street in Dubai or something. Definitely not on the pitch after the charity match, both of your faces would end up redder that the YT All Stars tops.

The way he proposed was perfect. He'd taken you to Bali, spent the day on a yacht, acting like your silly selves. You'd convinced him to play mermaids, obviously. He'd RKO'd you off the side of the boat in typical Harry fashion. When you got back to the villa, he waited for you to shower and then began setting everything up out on the deck of the villa. Candles, wine, your favourite dinner ready for you. It wasn't over the top, it wasn't overly mushy. It was perfect.

"Mad we're actually getting married, y'know," he murmurs.

"You did ask." You lean your head on his shoulder, careful not to get any makeup on his top.

"Clearly," he chuckles, "I just mean, sometimes I still feel like that idiot launching footballs at his mum's head, or jumping off the roof for content." "Nah, I get you," you hum in agreement, "it's genuinely a miracle you're still a functioning person to be honest."

The ammount of injuries your fiance had injured himself was unreal. The paintball gun shots to the back in your old flat, next to a glass window mind you. The time he tried to jump up on the car in the Sidemen video and and litereally landed on his head in a carpark, that was horrific. The time he 'fell' off the roof at his parents house, but actually grazed the skin off his elbow. The bruised ribs from the trampoline park. And the rest.

"Actually, it's a miracle you're still alive. It's a good job you are though, wouldn't want to be doing this with anyone else?"

"Hiding from our friends and family or getting married?"

"Both."

You've got an arm around his shoulders, nails gently running through the hair at the back of his head. Neither of you are really big on PDA, but when it's the two of you at home, he loves your nails scratching over his scalp, his back, his arms.

"I know what you mean though, feels like we should still be in your old flat reacting to JJ firing shots at me in a diss track."

Harry laughs, that era of YouTube was mental, but you're proud to say you know all the words to his diss tracks and he definitely won that era. JJ had called you a gold digger, but hey, he said you knew how to suck. He wasn't wrong on that part.

"Or filming cross bar challenges, try not to laughs." he continues, the nostalgia of the old Sidemen videos bringing back so many memories.

"Or smashing your TV, multiple times, or the monitor, or your chairs, or screaming at the screen over Fifa," you list off teasingly, old W2S was and will always be iconic. "But now look at you. You've grown up so much, got Sides, Side+, XIX Vodka, Sidemen Clothing, Inside, the documentary on Netflix. You're not just a YouTube channel, you're literally a brand, and the fans have grown up with you."

It is crazy to think about. When you announced your engagement online there were a lot of comments about W2S being engaged before GTA 6. Valid, to be fair. You'd both grown up together, grown up in front of Harry's audience, grown up alongside them. Now, you're starting a life together, planning a future instead of just going with the flow.

"Proud of you, you know," you murmur, softly pulling his head towards yours for a kiss.

Nothing too passionate, just soft, loving, savouring the quiet moment between the two of you.

He hums against your lips, pulling away just enough. "Love you. "

"Love you too."

You sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments before deciding that you'd better head back out to the party, both feeling a million times calmer. Sometimes all you need is ten minutes with your man to remind you that everything is fine.

Just as you reach the door leading to the club, he tugs your hand to pull you back to his chest. His hands cup your jaw, tilting your head so he can kiss you once more.

Questioningly, you turned to Harry, lifting your hand for him to inspect. The paper ring was still there, wrapped loosely around your finger as though it belonged there. In the daylight, it looked even more ridiculous than it had moments ago—slightly wrinkled, unevenly folded, and clearly made from a paper towel that had no business becoming jewelry.

Yet for some reason, you couldn’t stop looking at it.

“Aww, did you propose to me last night?” you teased. 

Harry cracked one eye open. “Now I know that’s not true,” he mumbled. “I haven’t bought any rings yet.” 

Laughing, you reached for his hand. “Then explain this.”

Wrapped around his ring finger was an identical paper ring, poorly folded and held together by what looked suspiciously like paper towel from a public restroom. 

The two of you stared at the matching rings. 

“Right…” Harry said slowly. “That’s mildly concerning.” 

You giggled at his response. The joke wasn’t entirely new. Marriage had come up more than once over the last year—during Christmas with your family, during late-night conversations about the future, during quiet moments when neither of you were really joking. There had never been any rush. If anything, you’d both agreed to wait until life felt a little more settled before taking that step.

Which made the matching paper rings considerably more concerning.

“So…what exactly happened last night?” you asked, examining the ring again. “You know neither of us are exactly reliable after a few drinks.” 

Harry rubbed a hand across his face, squinting at the ceiling as though the answers might be written there.

“Honestly, it’s all bits and pieces to me.” 

“Well that’s reassuring” 

“No, wait. I remember winning three thousand dollars.” 

“Babe, you lost four hundred.” 

Harry frowned. 

“Oh.” 

You snorted. 

A ringing noise from the bedside table pulled both of you back to reality. 

Harry reached over with a groan, blindly feeling around for his phone before finally grabbing it. Squinting at the bright screen, he let out a breath. 

“It’s Ethan.” 

“Perfect,” you muttered. “Maybe he’ll remember what happened.” 

“And then continue to embarrass us even further.”

“Same difference.”  

You laughed as you climbed out of bed, soothing down your shirt. Leaning over, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips before making your way toward the bathroom. 

“One step ahead of you,” Harry said, answering the call.

The moment the call connected, Ethan’s grin filled the screen.

“Bog!” he exclaimed, looking far too awake for the hour. “How are the newlyweds holding up?”

Harry’s eyebrows kitted together. 

You paused halfway to the bathroom door. 

You and Harry exchanged a look.

“The what?” Harry asked.

Ethan’s grin finally faded as he realized neither of you were joking. He shifted in his seat, running a hand over his face before letting out a long sigh.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Ethan.”

“Wait. You genuinely don’t remember?”

Harry pushed himself upright against the headboard, suddenly looking far more awake than he had thirty seconds ago.

“Remember what?”

Ethan dragged a hand down his face.

“No way.”

“What, Ethan?” you pressed.

“Right.” He pointed at the camera. “Before either of you start freaking out, everyone is fine. Nobody got arrested.”

“That wasn’t even remotely my first concern,” Harry deadpanned.

“It should be.”

You and Harry exchanged a look.

“Ethan.”

“Okay, okay.” He sighed. “To put it simply, you two got married last night.”

Silence.

The only sound in the room was the distant hum of traffic somewhere below.

You stared at the phone. Harry stared at the phone. Ethan stared back.

Finally, Harry let out a laugh.

“A good one.”

“It’s not a joke.”

The smile slowly disappeared from Harry’s face.

“Ethan.”

“Harry.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You looked down at the paper ring still wrapped around your finger before glancing at Harry’s matching one.

Neither of you spoke.

Ethan winced.

“Yeah. That’s pretty much the exact reaction everyone had when you two started exchanging vows.”

Your jaw dropped.

“We exchanged what?”

Ethan's wince deepened.

“Vows. Rings too, technically. Although calling those things rings is being generous.”

You and Harry looked down at the paper wrapped around your fingers.

“Right,” Ethan continued. “Anyway, I have screenshots, videos, witness statements—basically enough evidence to ruin both of your lives.”

“Ethan,” Harry said flatly.

“I'm helping.”

“You are literally doing the opposite.”

The call continued for another ten minutes, most of which consisted of Ethan recounting the events of the previous night while the two of you sat in stunned silence.

Apparently, there had been drinks.

Many drinks.

There had also been a heated debate about whether true love could survive a game of blackjack, an argument with a cardboard Elvis, and a declaration from Harry that if he was ever going to get married, it would be to you.

After that, the details became increasingly difficult to defend.

By the time the call ended, neither of you knew whether to laugh or be horrified.

The room fell quiet.

Harry slowly lowered his phone.

You stared at the wall.

He stared at the ceiling.

Neither of you spoke for several seconds.

“Well,” you finally said.

“Well,” Harry echoed.

Another pause.

“We got married.”

“Apparently.”

“We accidentally got married.”

“Allegedly.”

You turned toward him.

“Harry.”

“Yeah, alright. We definitely got married.”

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

The absurdity of the situation was beginning to outweigh the shock.

Harry laughed too, running both hands over his face.

“This is insane.”

“A little.”

“A little?” He sat up straighter. “We went to Vegas for four days and somehow came back with a legally binding commitment.”

“That does sound quite Vegas, actually.”

His head dropped back against the headboard.

For a moment, the two of you simply sat there.

The paper rings suddenly felt heavier than they had any right to.

Eventually, Harry broke the silence.

“If you want to get it annulled, we can.”

Harry’s voice was quiet, stripped of the teasing tone that had carried most of the morning. The suggestion was reasonable. Expected, even. After all, neither of you had planned for any of this.

Yet as you looked at him, sitting beside you with a paper ring still wrapped around his finger, the idea settled strangely in your chest.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “We can.”

Neither of you moved. Neither of you sounded particularly eager.

A strange feeling settled over the room.

Not disappointment. Not relief. Something awkwardly caught in between.

Because the truth was, the idea of marriage had never been the problem.

The timing had been.

The planning.

The fact that neither of you wanted something so important to happen because of tequila and poor decision-making.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

“It's not that I don't—”

“I know.”

His eyes met yours.

You knew exactly what he was trying to say.

It wasn't that he didn't want to marry you.

And it wasn't that you didn't want to marry him.

If anything, that was what made the conversation so complicated.

The room grew quiet again.

Outside, Vegas carried on as though it hadn't completely altered the trajectory of your lives overnight.

Harry glanced down at the paper ring around his finger before letting out a soft laugh.

“Not exactly how I pictured doing it.”

You smiled despite yourself.

“No?”

“Nah.”

He looked at you then.

“When it happens for real, I'm at least getting you a better ring than toilet paper.”

A laugh escaped you, soft and breathless.

Only a few minutes ago, the idea of being married had felt absurd. Something that happened to other people. Something that belonged years in the future, after enough planning and certainty and carefully laid-out decisions.

Yet sitting here now, looking at Harry with a crumpled paper ring around his finger and bedhead sticking up in every direction, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about any of that.

Not really.

Because beneath the panic and confusion and absolute insanity of the situation was a truth neither of you had argued against once.

It wasn’t the marriage that scared you.

It was the fact that neither of you remembered it.

Your gaze dropped to the paper ring before finding him again.

“I like shiny things,” you said softly.

A smile tugged at the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his.