#personal style optimization

[carlyraejepsans]

HELPP i found out about character AIs and im losing it over calling deltarune sans "a more manipulative personality" 😭😭 like whatt we've only seen this man like 2 times

sorry im being a hater hgfjdks but you're the sans understander

lmaoo character.ai, look where the fall of ai dungeon got us, smh. thank you for the compliment though!

[bibiana112]

I don't think the bad response to vengeance saga is due to it being too video game anime coded I think Jorge had to falter somewhere in this project and this ended up being it, it's not a terrible big mistake either and is still awesome to see a guy in his position who's not exactly a first timer but that has used his storytelling media in a way that's all around innovative and experimental still have nearly flawless execution of every album so far

Ideally to me, Hermes would tell Odysseus to not open this bag too soon he'd make sure the audience knows in his song that aeolous put the storm in there again but that the other gods blessed it in some way too, a passing mention of them too wanting to get at poseidon that this is the will of the gods now for Odysseus to return home, in a way that wouldn't change anything about the intensity and emotional catharsis of 600 strike cause then in the last animatic of the stream you could only convey that visually

Absolutely no hate to the 3D animator that was called in but even if it was the most professional made flawless renders and animation I've ever seen it would still break immersion too much by staying in that general style in my opinion, and doing that alongside asking us to believe poseidon was taken down by a mortal on a jet pack with no molly or outside help beyond the wind yeeting him up was just asking too much of our suspension of disbelief to go alongside that level of immersion break

[dreamytrashdoe]

I'm technically supposed to be saving for Sparkle in Star Rail but.... Aglaea is soooooo pretty and she has her garmentmaker that reminds me of a puppet and like puppets are a bit of a super interest for me. So I asked my wife if I should pull and she said yes. Well... 🙈 I won my 50/50 💕💕💕 got both Robin and Aglaea this patch with around 100 pulls left over for miss Sparkle 🥰🥰🥰

[leatherbookmark]

picked up my given books, started reading vol5 then took a break to flick through the other volumes and man it is with the HEAVIEST heart that i must announce i kinda hate the style change

[nirvanabuilders]

Essential Questions to Ask During Your Kitchen Remodeling Consultation

Planning a kitchen remodeling project can be a game-changer for your home, offering a fresh, functional space that suits your lifestyle. Before diving in, it’s crucial to make the most of your initial consultation with a contractor. Asking the right questions helps you understand the process and ensures that both you and your contractor are on the same page. Here are some key questions to consider during your consultation.

What’s the Estimated Timeline for My Project? One of the first things you’ll want to know is how long your kitchen remodeling project will take. Understanding the timeline gives you a clear idea of what to expect and helps you plan for any temporary changes to your routine. Ask your contractor about the time required for each phase, from design to demolition to installation, so you can manage your expectations and plan accordingly.

How Do We Stay Within My Budget? Budget is often a top concern when it comes to kitchen remodeling. During your consultation, ask your contractor how they plan to keep the project within your financial limits. They can provide tips on where to save and where it might be worth splurging. This conversation ensures that you get the most value from your investment without compromising on quality or style.

What Design Ideas Do You Recommend? Your contractor brings a wealth of experience and creativity to the table, making them a great resource for design inspiration. Ask them about ideas they think would work well in your kitchen. They might suggest layout adjustments, materials, or finishes that you hadn’t considered. This back-and-forth can spark new ideas, resulting in a kitchen remodeling plan that you’re excited about.

Will I Need Any Permits for This Project? Kitchen remodeling projects often involve structural changes, electrical work, or plumbing updates, which may require permits. Ask your contractor if any permits are needed and how they will handle the process. Knowing this upfront helps prevent delays down the line and ensures that everything is done according to local regulations.

How Will We Communicate Throughout the Project? Clear communication is essential for a smooth remodeling experience. Ask your contractor how they plan to keep you updated on the progress of your kitchen remodeling. Will there be regular meetings, phone calls, or emails? Understanding how you’ll stay in the loop helps prevent misunderstandings and keeps everything on track.

What Is Included in the Estimate? It’s important to know exactly what you’re paying for. During the consultation, ask your contractor for a detailed breakdown of the estimate. This should include costs for materials, labor, and any potential additional expenses. Understanding what’s included can help you avoid unexpected costs later in the process.

Can I See Examples of Your Previous Work? Experience matters when choosing a contractor for your kitchen remodeling. Ask to see photos or visit completed projects they’ve worked on. This gives you an idea of their style, attention to detail, and quality of work. It also helps you feel confident that you’re working with someone who understands your vision.

Moving Forward with Confidence Your initial consultation is your chance to gather the information you need to make informed decisions about your kitchen remodeling project. By asking the right questions, you can ensure that your contractor is the right fit for your needs and that you’re both aligned on the project’s scope, budget, and timeline. With clear communication and a solid plan, you’ll be on your way to creating the kitchen you’ve always dreamed of. Ready to take the next step? Reach out today and start your journey to a beautiful new kitchen.

[devondespresso]

i saw one (1) header post that spoke to me and now a couple hours later im in the mood to completely change the aesthetics of my blog (keep the user tho) (probably)

[heartlilith]

Rising Signs in the Solar Return Chart

Aries Rising: With Aries rising in your solar return chart, an abundance of energy and drive is more apparent this year. You will have the stamina to take on any challenge or goal that you put your mind to. Impulsive decisions along with issues with anger and frustration could arise, but your confidence and enthusiasm should help you push through. If you have an Aries rising in your SRC, this year is perfect for asserting your identity, starting a fitness journey, and pursuing your goals. 

Taurus Rising: Taurus rising in your solar return chart shifts your focus to stability, comfort, and setting the groundwork for the long haul. You’ll seek security in relationships, finances, your career, and your home life. This is also a year that highlights indulgence; whether it be in art, food, or nature. I like to think of it as a year of *beautifying*, where you create a peaceful environment that aligns with who you are.

Gemini Rising: Gemini rising brings a year of curiosity, learning, and mental stimulation. Multitasking is the name of the game here, and although it’ll be chaotic at times, it’ll bring so much growth.  Juggling multiple interests, connections with new people, and soaking up knowledge like a sponge will make for a busy year ahead. Short trips and communication will also be emphasized this year, whether that’s through speaking, writing, teaching, or networking.

Cancer Rising: With Cancer rising in a solar return chart, the focus of the year will be on home, family, and connecting with your emotions. Shifts and transformations can occur in your home and personal life, encouraging you to prioritize self care and take care of people you love most. You may be more of a homebody this year or can have stronger emotions. Lean into yourself and allow yourself to feel how you feel without judgement. 

Leo Rising: Leo rising in your solar return chart makes for a year of confidence, creativity and being placed in the spotlight. Others won’t be able to ignore your sunny and charming presence, including romantic interests, coworkers, bosses, and friends. You’ll be hard to miss this year. Stepping into your confidence and focusing on yourself will be favored, and it will also attract admiration from people around you.

Virgo Rising: Virgo rising, this year will be about self-improvement and simplifying your routine. You’ll be more focused on your goals and it’ll be easier to adjust your day to day, especially in regard to  your health, your job, or just finding more efficient ways to live. You’ll be very productive this year like Gemini rising, but more organized and critical. 

Libra Rising: With a Libra rising in a solar return chart, relationships will be prioritized this year. Harmony in your relationships and friendships as well as finding balance between give and take will be highlighted. Art, beauty, and aesthetics will be important to you this year and a glow up could be on the horizon, since experimenting with your style will more than likely have a great outcome this year.

Scorpio Rising: With Scorpio rising, the year ahead will be filled with growth and transformation in every aspect of life, but especially in your emotional sector. You could enjoy your solitude this year, become more reflective, and value your privacy much more than in past years. This year is great for confronting your fears and running with your passions. 

Sagittarius Rising: Sagittarius rising brings optimism, adventure, and a hunger for new experiences. This is a year to explore and learn, whether through travel, education, or even reading a book! You’ll feel more confident in taking risks but remember to avoid overextending yourself or chasing too many opportunities at once, indulgence isn’t always necessary. 

Capricorn Rising: With Capricorn rising in your solar return chart, the focus shifts to maturity, responsibility, and hard work. At the end of the cycle, you will be more disciplined and mature - especially in regard to your goals and career. Success is within reach for sure, but only if you avoid crumbling under the pressure you put on yourself. Self care is equally as important as reaching your goals. 

Aquarius Rising: Aquarius rising brings a year of thinking outside the box and showing off your uniqueness. You’ll have a hard time with any limits, whether they’re self-imposed or not. Socially, you’ll be popular and recognized for what makes you different. Definitely a trendsetter placement, you may notice a lot of copycats this year. Volunteer work as well as helping others is favored now, but make sure you find balance,  Aquarius is more giving than what people assume. 

Pisces Rising: With Pisces rising, this year will be about tapping into and strengthening your intuition. Hobbies centered around creativity and healing could very well take center stage this year. You’ll be extremely attuned to the emotions and vibes from people around you, maybe even too much. Take time to reflect in solitude and allow yourself to channel your thoughts by journaling, painting, singing, or anything that you genuinely love to do. 

[alinathinkstoomuch]

CLOSET FULL OF NERVES

pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader summary: meeting your FBI boyfriend’s team? cue the outfit crisis, a bad blouse, and a mild spiral. good thing aaron knows exactly how to talk you down and remind you that being yourself is more than enough, based on this requesst. warnings: fluffff, brief porno discussion lol, aaron being sweet and protective word count: 1.1k

✧ masterlist | ✧ alina's 1k bar

Meeting Hotch’s—Aaron’s, now—team shouldn’t have filled you with this much anxiety and yet here you were, engulfed by nerves, knee-deep in a closet implosion, and currently debating whether the sacred casual but cute look was code for jeans or a dress or a possible a tailored meltdown. Your people-pleasing radar was at its absolute peak. You’d changed outfits six times, debated redoing your hair twice, and spent far too long practicing a casual ‘hi’ in the mirror.

When Aaron mentioned drinks with the team at the start of the week, it had sounded breezy enough. Being around a bunch of slightly tipsy profilers (aka human lie detectors) couldn’t be that bad…right?

Well. You were now strongly reconsidering your earlier optimism. 

You’d pieced together a mental scrapbook of them from the sidelines through Aaron’s end-of-day stories, Jack’s offhand dinner-table commentary, and the one time JJ had picked up Henry from a playdate and waved at you like she already knew your SAT scores.

But dating Aaron? That changed the math. This wasn’t idle curiosity anymore. This was entering the orbit of people who could, with startling ease, determine your attachment style and also what you were like in sixth grade. Especially now, since you weren’t just the nanny anymore—you were his person. And walking into a room full of highly perceptive people who loved him like family suddenly felt like the pressure had tripled.

You were still standing in front of the mirror, scrutinising your earrings when you heard your phone buzz. 

Aaron: Leaving now. Should be there in 10.

You: Are we sure this is a good idea? I’m totally fine skipping this one. No pressure, no potential for public humiliation. Everyone wins.

Aaron: You’ll be fine, don’t stress. They’re going to like you. 

You: But will they like-like me?

You wait. Longer than is reasonable for a man who never uses more than ten words per text. 

Aaron: I like-like you.

It was unfair, really, how casually he could undo you with four words and a hyphen. You blinked at your reflection. Your hair was doing something vaguely hopeful and the earrings suddenly didn’t seem like they mattered all that much.

You hearted the text and figured you’d let him actually reverse out of the parking lot and into yours before you started catastrophizing again. You just needed to get through the evening. Smile. Make polite conversation. Don’t say anything that reveals your deeply repressed childhood fears or the fact that you still Google words you pretend to know.

After exactly ten minutes you heard a knock on your door.

You were, naturally, mid-blouse change, tangled in something with too many buttons and not enough leniency. So you grabbed your phone, thumbed out a quick It’s open, and tossed it onto the bed, which now looked like a fabric massacre had occurred.

From downstairs, his voice travelled up to your bedroom. “Please tell me you didn’t leave the door unlocked again.”

You groaned, loudly. “Hello to you too!”

“I’m serious,” Aaron called back. “You live alone, what if someone had walked in?”

You stepped into the hallway, barefoot and still adjusting your sleeves. “What if it was the tooth fairy? You ever consider that? Maybe I was hoping to get my rent covered.”

He appeared at the bottom of the stairs then, that furrow between his brows activated in full-blown dad mode. “You live alone in a house with multiple windows and no security system.”

“Yes, but I have a very scary FBI boyfriend who never smiles. All the nonexistent threats in this neighborhood know better than to mess with me.”

You flicked the bedroom light off, grabbed your phone and made your way downstairs, one hand on the railing, the other trying to discreetly tug your blouse into behaving. You narrowed your eyes at your allegedly serious, stoic boyfriend, who, for someone denying the existence of his own smile, was very clearly suppressing one right now.

“Is something funny?” 

He shook his head, far too quickly. “No. Not at all. You just look... different.”

You stopped at the last step. “Different how?”

“Just…”

“Spit it out, Hotchner, or I swear I’ll continue leaving my doors unlocked.” Blackmail. It never lets you down.

“You don’t look very you. You look like…we’re going to a job interview.”

“Aaron!” you shrieked, giving his chest a shove. 

He took it in stride, both hands raised in surrender, that damn half-smile still flirting with the corner of his mouth. “Honey, I know how you dress. And I would bet actual money that this blouse still has the tags on from when you panic-bought it today.”

“I wanted to make a good impression,” you groaned, tipping your head back. “Figured if I dressed normal enough, it might smooth over the whole ‘Hi, I’m slutting it up with your boss who also happens to be my boss because I’m his nanny’ thing. Which, if we’re being honest, sounds like the plot of a really bad porno.”

Aaron raised a brow. “Oh yeah? What do you know about pornos?”

You squinted at him, suspicious. “Is this a trap?”

“Just curious. You seemed oddly fluent in the premise.”

​​“I—okay, I was making a point. A colourful, exaggerated point.”

“That you’re in a porno.”

You sighed, ready to launch into a defensive monologue but Aaron stepped forward and caught your hands. Both of them. Like he’d done it a hundred times before and would keep doing it until your brain finally agreed you were safe.

“All jokes aside, I want you to be comfortable. And I want you to be you—the great, wonderful, endlessly patient, charming woman I fell in love with. Not some version you think will be more appealing to everyone else.”

You let a breath out. 

“Now,” he continued, “if this blouse makes you feel confident and happy, then wear it. But what I don’t want—what I won’t let happen—is you walking in there thinking any of this is inappropriate, or scandalous, or something to be ashamed of.”

The inside of your cheek caught between your teeth. Not because you didn’t believe him, but because it was easier to chew on skin than emotion.

“Yes,” he added, “it was a little complicated at the start. We knew that. But I’d go through all of it again if it meant ending up here with you.”

There was something a little terrifying and kind of wonderful about being seen that clearly by someone who refused to look away. Your heart did this weird fluttery thing, like affection had turned into a full-body cramp.

“I hate this blouse,” you mumbled.

Aaron’s mouth twitched. “I suspected.”

“Do I have time to change?”

He checked his watch, then looked back at you. “Only if you tell me what pornos you’ve been watching in your spare time.”

You laughed, a chesty thing that felt borderline suffocating inside the godforsaken polyester trap that passed for a blouse on the receipt. “That’s blackmail.”

“Hm,” he hummed casually,  “wonder where I got the idea from.”

tags - @fandomscombine @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog @stilestotherescue @kiwriteswords @anvdala @supersanelyromantic @yourallaround-simp @percysley @wowitsafemale @cinnamoncunt @keiminds @iyskgd @mystic-rox @insured-by-the-mafia @mggslover @khxna @starsmoonn @newavenger @star-crossed-sephie @tearykth @2dloveshp

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[riizebabie444]

𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 ♥️

hey all, sorry for not posting for so long, here is one of the requested pac's. this reading is about the attractive and sexy things about you that you don't realise. there are two parts, general and from your person's pov. hope you enjoy!

picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image.

be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment or guidance only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

♥️ ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

donations. games/events. feedback.

pile one

in general, the sexy things you do without knowing are represented by eight of pentacles, eight of wands rv and death. with two eights here, i'm seeing your body type could be a major cause of your sexiness. it could be your chest or your booty, maybe you have curves or an obvious hourglass or pear figure. there are definitely parts of your body that people notice and find sexy. it could also be your eyes too, your eyes are sensual without you realising.

i think you have an air of mystery around you, you are private and don't like to show everything to the world in the way some other people do. it could be your body, your style, your business, even your plans for the weekend. but this privacy you have for yourself makes you seem like an enigma to others. people find the mystery sexy because then you leave it up to them to think what you are really like. mystery is just sexy anyway, so it doesn't need a lot of explaining.

furthermore, i see you being labelled as "hard to get" some may joke about you playing hard to get. maybe you're not even playing, you're just plainly not interested but others will still thank that way, that you are not easy. maybe you do it on purpose, maybe you don't i get i a mix here. but overall, others think it is hard work to get close to you whether romantically, sexually or platonically. you intimidate others with your no bullshit attitude and they find that attractive. what is rare is sought after. so many people will think you are "sexier" because there is a limited number of people you will allow your time and energy towards.

for your person, what they find sexy about you is your brightness and optimism. it is weird to describe traits like that in a "sexy" way however, i do see this. the person you are thinking of finds it so attractive how bright you are, how so many people look towards you when you don't realise. like you're nonchalant or unbothered by the attention. your confidence is also so sexy, your bravery in standing for what you believe and finding success chasing your dreams. you don't let things stand in your way.

this person really loves your back, they find it so sexy. i think you may actually be insecure about your back or just think it is not sexy, but trust me your person loves your back so much. they love your arms. they love when you are topless. they love when you wear dresses and skirts. they love when you love down at them, they get really turned on. i also think if you wear cute, coquette frilly and lace style of clothes/details on your clothes, they find it sexy. like cute lingerie or clothes in general. even floral, they find it so hot even though it's just your style preference. if not, then they want you to wear more of it because it is so sexy to them.

pile two

i think sometimes the clothes you wear and the way you hold yourself is sexy to others. it might be normal to you, you just wear what you want to wear. but some people might find it a little sexy even if you don't intend it that way. and the way you carry yourself, i see a lot of confidence here. good posture, the way you sit, particularly the way you lean down is very sexy. like say you dropped something and bent down to get it, it is quite sexy if someone saw it they wouldn't be able to stop thinking about the image. i'm seeing bending down and your hair falling or moving in that direction, like something out of a movie. but then when you fix your hair after standing back up, that is also sexy.

i think your hands are also sexy which you might not realise. people might like seeing you hold something because there is something about the way you hold things, your hands and fingers look so graceful and sexy. i see you might also be a bit clumsy, i'm seeing stars in your eyes or little stars spinning around your head. you could be a clumsy person, doing or saying silly things. in a way, this is sexy to others because they see you as a cute little, bright eyed, starry eyed thing. i get a hint of corruption here, people find it so sexy because you seem innocent and sweet but they're having different thoughts.

i see others may think you'd make a good mother or parent in general. you are seen as wife material. not the type to have a casual fling with. someone to settle down with. this is sexy because they think of having a family, how you would be as a mother. because of this, you might attract people who have breeding kinks. this message is random but yeah, the people who think you'd make a good wife and mother (or father/parent) would find you sexy because they want to breed you.

for your person, who you are thinking of, they will love your shoulders and collarbone. like i'm seeing someone kissing their a lot. they would love when you wear strapless tops or dresses. they also find it sexy when you wear gloves. the way you style your hair is sexy. again, i see when you hold things in your hand, with your person you might be holding something more particular if you get my drift, they find it sexy.

this is an odd one to look out for but i'm seeing that they find it sexy when you are emotional and crying. definitely be careful for people who are just trying to manipulate you, but i'm seeing this in a way that they like when you cry during sexy times or when you have emotional sex. for this person, emotions are a big turn on so sometimes even when you're being genuine with emotions, they can get excited by it because it is somehow sexy to them.

pile three

hey pile three. the sexy things you do without realising are represented by the hermit, justice and two of cups rv. with the hermit, i see that you have a sort of lone wolf vibe. you may have lots of friends or maybe not a lot but either way you look confident even when you are by yourself. people look at you and see that you don't need to be surrounded by people to feel confident. they think you are confident without people. you don't need anyone else to fill your inner life because you make it rich enough already. i think you also take things at your own pace, you don't conform to things easily. i'm seeing a scenario where most people are easily influenced by things they see in the internet on tiktok, but you are not so influenced. you won't follow trends for the sake of following trends but rather you'll follow things if they suit you. so people would think it is attractive because in an age where everyone thinks the same because we all consume the same, you stand out and can think for yourself. a lone wolf and smart is how i'm seeing you and it is attractive to others.

with justice, it is similar to what i previously said, you are strong in your beliefs and the things you follow. you don't believe things just because others believe it. you have your convictions. you are truthful and upright in your own regard. you judge others fairly. i think some may think you are a bit stuck up in this sense, because you stand out from fitting in with others. but i see that some still find this sexy, even those who don't like it. like, i see them thinking "i wish i was like pile three" or "i want to be with someone like pile three" but at the same time they will say "pile three is judgemental and stuck up". but still people find this attractive. there is nothing sexier than a person who knows themselves and believes themselves.

lastly, the things you don't realise are sexy, i see you personal style. i think when you wear formal attire or you dress up for an occasion, people love it! they find it so surprising and sexy for some reason. dressed smart but flashy. also, wearing high contrast colours or outfits with contrasting components makes you look sexy. in terms of your style, when you pair two colours together, it looks really good and others will think positively of your style. honestly i think again the way you are out of sync with others makes you unknowingly sexy. it's giving hot aquarius vibes, don't conform to society, doesn't think like everyone else. i also see that your shoulders and even collarbone, as well as your forearms are the physical parts fo you that people would find sexy.

for your person, what they find sexy is represented by three of wands, queen of swords rv and the artist. the way you are in control of your life and your future makes others feel proud but also scared of you, if that makes sense. and it makes them more attracted to you. for example, they would think you can sustain yourself without them and it scares them because they don't want to be without you but at the same time your power and confidence is sexy. also, your passions to travel and learn continuously comes up.

okay i'm seeing that you may have a no bullshit attitude, however, sometimes it can come off as a lack of empathy for others. whether true or not, what your person finds sexy is how you are the opposite with them. how you can trust and be soft with them and how you will confront your flaws and work on yourself as a part of your journey. and i think it is perceived as sexy because not a lot of people can do this honestly. and even when you do, it is difficult but you don't sugarcoat it. the power and the confidence and the creativity you have makes them so attracted to you and you would never think that they find it an appealing aspect of yourself.

pile four

i'm going to start with your persons perspective pile four because i'm relly excited by what they have to say. you are literally marriage material to them, or at least "i want to spend the rest of my life with them" and they find it so darn sext pile four! they love the joy and victory you bring into their life, as well as the simplicities, the domesticity. they see a beautiful and bright future with you. and i also lowkey see like the sweet forbidden fruit, so maybe you and this person aren't supposed to be together or you don't expect it and it makes the connection a bit more tense but exciting. it brings that spiciness, they aren't suppose to have you but they still want you and believe you will have a future together and that's hot to them.

i see you hands, when you're holding something long if you get my drift. your person would love it if when you giving them some hand action, it goes both ways but i'm mainly seeing the hand holding a stick so you're either playing with them or yourself. again, goes both ways. it could also be just holding random things, they find your hands so pretty so you could be holding the tv remote and they'll think it's sexy. you mind is stimulating also, you and your person could be people who need intellectual stimulation rather than physical and visual alone. your mind is like a maze they want to get lost in, they get turned on by your witty remarks and banter especially when flirting, they just want to kiss your face off.

and lastly, i see that your peaceful aura is so attractive to them. one wouldn't think calm and cosy vibes is a sexy thing to to your person and many others, peace and comfort is a turn on. you stay away from drama. like sure, everyone loves a bit of drama but i mean this in the sense that you aren't actively involved in drama, nor the cause of it, and can easily distance yourself from drama caused by other people. they love seeing you overcome things, and this makes you attractive to them because it furthers the agenda that you are the person they want to spend their future with, someone who is peaceful and warm.

now for the things in general that you do not realise are sexy. i see hands again. so not only your person, but others in general find that you have pretty nice hands. when you're holding things. i'm seeing the curve of your hand or your arm, the same and size can be a turn on for some. it could also represent the way you create opportunities for yourself. i see that you also look or act rich. whether you are rich or not doesn't matter, just the way you hold yourself, like you come from a good background. definitely a desirable feature that makes you sexier.

i think some of you may have had a glow up or your looks significantly changed. could also just be something as simple as your clothing style or hair colour that changed. this change in your appearance makes you sexier. it may not seem much to you, like say you just changed your hair colour. but others, especially the opposite sex or desired sex, find you more sexy after the change. i think you may not go out a lot, like hanging out with friends or attending parties. maybe it is not you thing. but when you do go out, everyone is excited to see you. like, you are rare to others, so people find it mysterious and kind of cherished. it makes you more desired. you may think "oh im so lonely and boring" but others are like "when will pile four hang out with us? i really want to see them" and lastly, i see the trust you have in yourself and the world or god, you seem so content and peaceful pile four and it makes you so sexy and desirable.

© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.

[numbpill]

========================================================

[tutorial: build your own neocities/nekoweb page]

========================================================

a beginner's guide for making your very own home on the indie web—retro, personal, weird, and 100% yours.

this ain’t an average wix, squarespace, or tiktok aesthetic.

we’re talking full html/css with soul and attitude.

[ prerequisites ]

------------------

> an idea

> basic text editor (vscode, notepad++, or even notepad)

> account on https://neocities.org or https://nekoweb.org

> some gifs or tiles you love (dig deep or make your own)

> optional: image host or gif repo (or self-host everything)

[ feeling overwhelmed? read this. ]

-----------------------------------

you do *not* need to know everything.

html is not a mountain. it's a garden.

you plant one tag. then another. then a style. then a button.

you can build your site piece by piece.

and every piece is a portal to somewhere personal.

you are allowed to make broken pages.

you are allowed to use templates.

you are allowed to start over as many times as you want.

this is *your* world. you control the weird.

[ step 1: create an account ]

-----------------------------

> neocities: https://neocities.org

> nekoweb: https://nekoweb.org

register a name, log in, and enter your file manager.

this is where you upload your files and see your site live.

[ step 2: your first file - index.html ]

----------------------------------------

make a new file: `index.html`

basic starter:

<html>

<head>

<title>my weird little corner</title>

<link rel="stylesheet" href="style.css">

</head>

<body>

<h1>welcome to the void</h1>

<p>this is my page. it’s strange. like me.</p>

<img src="mygif.gif">

</body>

</html>

> upload to the dashboard

> boom. you’re live at

https://yoursite.neocities.org

or https://nekoweb.org/u/yoursite

[ step 3: add a style sheet - style.css ]

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create a file called `style.css` and upload it.

here’s some nostalgic magic:

body {

background: url('tile.gif');

color: lime;

font-family: "Courier New", monospace;

text-shadow: 1px 1px 0 black;

}

img {

image-rendering: pixelated;

}

marquee {

font-size: 20px;

color: magenta;

}

link it in your html and the vibes activate.

[ step 4: decorate it like a haunted usb ]

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> use <marquee> for chaos scrolls

> embed gifs from https://gifcities.org/

> steal buttons from https://cyber.dabamos.de/88x31/

> set up a guestbook at https://www.smartgb.com/

> loop audio with <audio autoplay loop>

> add fake errors, 90s web lore, random link lists

[ step 5: resources, themes, and comfort ]

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> templates & layouts: https://numbpilled-themes.tumblr.com

> glitchy gifs & buttons: https://glitchcat.neocities.org/resources

> layout builder: https://sadgrl.online/projects/layout-builder/

> free tiled backgrounds: https://backgrounds.neocities.org/

> beginner html intro: https://www.w3schools.com/html/

> pixel fonts & cyber assets: https://fontstruct.com/

remember:

you don't need to know js. you don't need to be a coder.

you just need a mood, a direction, a dream.

the html will follow.

[ bonus concept: shrine pages ]

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> a page just for one character you love

> a room to house digital fragments of your identity

> embed quotes, music, images like altars

> call it shrine.html and link it from your homepage

[ closing mantra ]

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you are not here to be optimized.

you are not a brand.

you are a ghost inside the machine,

carving your initials into the silicon void.

welcome to Your website.

========================================================

[caamboys]

What will your future spouse love about you?

pile 1-3

PILE ONE

🎶 blood orange - saint🎶

“ i like to see you live for more, you said it before, you wish id seen the saint you were before “

-

what they like about you mentally?

they like that you’re curious, energetic and a bit careless when you talk. they admire that you allow yourself to be who you are unapologetically. your future spouse has a more rigid, contained approach to life. they view you as someone who doesn’t hold themselves back, who speaks and acts freely without restraint. something about this pile screams freedom, that is what they like about you personality wise. when you stand on what is right, and don’t hesitate to call out what is wrong. even if it causes strife or problems, they admire your ability to speak the truth and be yourself despite the pressure of society. they might like to bicker or tease you just so you guys can have banter together, they think it’s hot to see you be fierce for what you believe in. they like to debate with you.

what do they like about you physically?

something about your appearance or demeanor is otherworldly. you have a dreamy aspect to the way you look, sometimes when they look at you it feels surreal to them. you have an aesthetically pleasing ethereal vibe to the way you dress, or even look naturally. this pile might have sleepy eyes, or dark under eyes, or even dark eyes in general and they think that it’s hot. i see here theyre very attracted to you when you’re relaxed or in a state of calmness. im seeing someone sitting, with bed hair and sleep in their eyes, and your future spouse absolutely simping over it. another thing they will like is if this pile may have gone through some sort of transformation or change. they admire that about you as well. if you haven’t had any big transformation, they like when you take on different aesthetics and constantly switch up the way you dress or the makeup styles you do. you’ll go through multiple phases style-wise while you guys date and they’ll love it.

overall energy: pile one, I kept channeling so many different personality traits, so many different physical attributes. it was so hard to hone in one certain aspect they enjoy, because the next card would be describing a completely different energy. you have many different qualities your future spouse appreciates all the same. at first I was channeling them being attracted to you in a youthful energetic energy, then i started channeling them liking you when you’re in a darker energy. your future spouse just likes you overall lmao.

side note: you’re multidimensional and your future spouse is highly aware of this, and they admire you for it so don’t be afraid to show off all the sides of yourself. I love the polarity between what they prefer mentally versus physically. mentally they admire your more intellectually charged energy, while physically they like your dreamy relaxed energy. you can shapeshift around them! they like that lol

pile two

🎶ILLIT - Magnetic 🎶

🎶“This time i want You you you you, like it’s magnetic“

“ baby, you’re my crush, you’re my crush “ 🎶

what do they like about you mentally?

they love your optimism. either you or your future spouse has dealt with or currently deals with anxiety, depression or grief. they admire your ability to overcome dark things and continue to be hopeful and forgiving. you have a sense of mental peace in the midst of the all the anguish in the world, or even in the anguish in your life that they can’t help but find attractive. your ability to remain harmonious, kind and loving despite hardships around you is something they love. you have a sense of renewal, uplifting and raising things that were once low. it’s giving phoenix rising from the ashes. your ability to sacrifice darkness in order to create light is something they admire.

what they like about you physically?

pile two, your future spouse thinks your eye candy😭. I literally channeled the word “ trophy prize”. they think dating you is a once in a lifetime opportunity because youre so attractive. they loveeee your hair. some specific confirmation for this pile are curly hair, blonde hair, facial hair; if none of those resonate don’t mind that because hair in general is something they absolutely adore about you. they love your style, something about it gives effortless and confident to them. I just heard your future spouse feels proud walking next to you. another thing i channeled was age difference, so if you’re younger than them they like that about you, and if you’re older than them they like that too, any age gap in general just switch to what applies. another thing i heard is the way you walk, as if you’re walking on air. they like your legs. okay pile two whatever makes you feel more confident around them, whether it be a certain makeup look, a certain dress or outfit, the way you style your hair is KEY to their attraction. something you do that makes you feel confident, whatever that may be, is what will make them simp over you. i just keep hearing your confidence is so sexy to them. your future spouse definitely puts you on a pedestal.

overall energy: they love your LIGHT. this pile was very easy and breezy, and i feel like it’s reflecting you. when you’re in a happy, positive energy they feel like it radiates out of you. when you’re playful and lighthearted around your future spouse this what they love about you. this was such a cute read oh my gosh

side note: whoever your future spouse is, please reaffirm and validate to them you are NOT out of their league. like i previously mentioned they definitely put you on a pedestal, i would just hate the idea of them feeling unworthy or insecure because of how highly they view you. so give them some extra validation and compliments when you come across them.

pile three

🎶 get on your knees - Nicki Minaj ft Ariana Grande🎶

🎶“ baby just get on your knees “

“ say pretty please, say pretty please “🎶

-

what do they like about you mentally?

I’m not gonna lie, pile three your future spouse is a little dark! & i think they’re attracted to the darkness within you. they don’t like things pure and clean, unlike like pile two they prefer things to be a bit heavier. they like when you’re obsessive or possessive over them. I think your spouse has very similar thought patterns as you, so it’s a balance and flow between the two of you. reciprocating what the other is giving out. the energy feels heavily attached to one another. they love your darker energy. they want to explore all of your kinks, and fantasies. this is kinda fucked up but 😭 they like it when you get jealous over them. like i said this energy feels heavily reciprocated so you guys could be the couple who enjoys teasing and making each other jealous. I don’t think it’s solely your future spouse who likes this dark energy, i think it’s you both sharing in it. that aside, they like how you’re relationship material, the way you view loyalty and commitment is attractive to them. they like to comfort you, and reassure you. they like when you think of them as your protector, your guardian.

what do they like about you physically?

height difference. you could be shorter than them, or taller than them but either way they love that about you. if you have round features, like a round face, or big round eyes they love that. im getting that your future spouse is incredibly attracted to your body. if you’re a woman, they really love your boobs. if you’re a man, they love your hands. I’m just getting something about your body shape. curvy or petite, they’re very attracted to your body shape. if you workout they love that about you. that aside, your future spouse thinks its incredibly cute to watch you think hard about something. I’m channeling someone staring off into the distance with a focused, scrunched up face as they ponder something, and your future spouse thinking “ they’re so adorable“ lmao. they think you’re cute when you get angry or irritated.

overall energy: this gives me such youthful,immature puppy love energy lmao! but it’s cute! your future spouse likes your clingy, possessive, and fiery traits. they like to see you get passionate about something, when you have a spark in your eyes.

side note: be careful of codependency in this relationship !! 🗿

[couch-house]

If you've been following me for a while you already know I'm going to tell you to vote for @themetalvirus's Egghog AU in @sonic-au-collision. You know I love drawing those funny little guys. But I think it might be a good idea to actually get into why I find them so compelling! I think any good AU is in conversation with canon,and egghogs is a certified Yapper.

Let's start with our hero, Amy!

Our canon Amy can be characterized by her deep compassion and optimism. As well as how Sonic has inspired her hero crush and motivated her to go out and put that compassion to work herself!* Egghog Amy has that same compassion, but what if she had no choice in being the hero? She had no one to look up to and inspire her, just the crushing weight of necessity. An Amy put in canon Sonic's position, who relies on unceasing and perhaps inappropriate optimism, but is still worn down by the weight of the world. I like this take on her, an exploration of where "toxic positivity" can get you.

*I think the classic IDW Amy characterization is a good example of this. As well as Fleetway Amys origin story heehee

Despite the stress of it all, she still has the optimism to see the best in people and believe they can change for the better. Like, for example, her crush: Egghog Sonic.

Just like canon Sonic, Eggy is a headstrong hedgehog defined by his own moral compass and his need to have a pretty good time. But while canon Sonic is defined by his love of freedom, independence, and by his "coolness," Egghog Sonic has been raised in Eggman's trap of control. He's just as headstrong, but in the opposite direction. His adoptive family is just as important to him as canon Sonic's friends, but in opposition to the good of the world. Where canon Sonic is personally reckless to protect others, Eggy is careless with the safety of others in service to his and his family's needs. Canon Sonic is capricious and relaxed, even in the face of danger, while Eggy is restrained, emotionally stunted, and stressed at all times.

Personally, I think that Egghog Sonic's fighting style being based in ballet--associated with control, restraint, and exclusivity by wealth--opposed to canon Sonic's fighting evoking breakdancing--a sport associated with creativity, play, and its origins as an urban art--does a great job on its own of juxtaposing the two Sonics.

But as I mentioned, even with his morals and freedom in opposition to canon, Egghog Sonic still has that essential connection to the people he cares about: his close-knit (read: highly controlled) family.

Egghog Sonic's younger brother Silver has all of canon Silver's accidental dickishness and ruthlessness, but without the humbling experience of surviving in a ruined future to keep him in check. Born and raised with a silver (ha) spoon in his mouth, Eggy Silver would be killed instantly by canon Silver's upbringing. All his worst qualities have been encouraged (as opposed to canon silver facing consequences for and learning from his flaws) and Eggy Silver is a huge fucking bitch. You know when Silver mugged Tails in Rivals? Okay now imagine if he was raised to do that as a child soldier. Now imagine he gets anything he wants whenever he asks. Thats Egghog Silver. When Silver defects from the Eggpire, we see that appreciation for the world and its history grow back where it belongs. It gives a better appreciation to what motivates canon Silver's view of the world, and recreates it in a new way.

Also the irony of Mr. I Must Fight For The Future's fucked up AU version of himself being part of the cause of the ruined future.... its delicious.

Finally, the oldest brother (by like a couple months...). We all know canon Shadow's had a rough time of it RE: mind control, manipulation, having a whole game where he is asked to be everyones gofer... This is Egghog Shadow's life for a full 15 years. Gerald doesn't finish cooking Egghog, and Eggman is the one to dump him out of the tube and raise him to be the perfect chaos-weilding soldier. He makes liberal use of his ability to physically manipulate Shadow's artificial mind to keep him in line as an endlessly obedient servant. Of course, any Shadow meaningfully based in canon won't stay that way. Just as his canon counterpart breaks free from the demands of those around him to forge his own path, so does Eggy Shadow. Even in the fucking miseries, even without a Maria, Shadow is still will make the choice to walk his own path.

Well, not just his own path. Because while Shadow (esp post-06 Shadow) can be uncompromisingly independent at times, he is still often defined by his friendships. Specifically, his relationship to Rouge is given focus in this AU, being his one reprieve from the empire and ultimately his way out. Canon Shadow had Rouge and Omega by his side during some of his darkest moments and arguably that made all the difference to his arc. Their presence (yes, Omega is here too) during Eggy Shadow's suffering is all the more essential and highlights their roles in canon.

But of course, with greater miseries comes greater struggle to heal. Canon Shadow's neat freak nature gets reinterpreted as a trauma response--maladaptive perfectionism and OCD. (tbc, in the same way fan works often recognize that canon Shadow likely lives with PTSD as a result of his experiences, Egghog Shadow's OCD is presented as an appropriate consequence of the stressful environment he's been raised in.) I like this as an exploration of how Shadow handles stress and trauma, how it might change in different circumstances.

All that to say, Egghog AU is just done in such a compelling way that really grabs me and facilitates Rambling about The Parallels and such. And that I think makes for a GREAT AU. The exploration of Sonic's strong personal morals and headstrong...ness, the benefits and flaws of Amy's intense optimism and compassion, Silver's ruthlessness and meaner side, and Shadow's tendency to introspection and overcorrection... Again I say, a good AU is one that is in conversation with canon, and Egghogs is constantly talking about the fascinating conflicts created by these characters. And thats why you should vote #Egghogs4Eggver

[dollvls3]

aglaja asteroid (47)

the asteroid Aglaja (43) is named after one the Three Graces from greek mythology. Splendor, Glory, and Beauty. Her mythology revolves around the idea of radiant charm, elegance and an aura of harmony, often tied to the beauty of spirit and physical grace. 🪷

aglaja in aries

aglaja in aries, your beauty comes from your boldness and your courage to express yourself authentically. there's a raw, unfiltered charm in your ability to embrace challenges without hesitation. you exude a natural vibrancy, favoring your inner physical strength, energy, and vitality. Your presence is dynamic, and people feel uplifted by your aura. your graceful side emerges when you're leading and protecting others. even in competitive environments. maintain your charismatic edge and watch how many people you inspire.

aglaja in taurus

aglaja in taurus, your beauty is rooted in sensuality and stability, your beauty is in your calm and dependable nature. your appreciation for the finer things enhances your emotional warmth. you radiate a classic, timeless beauty. often associated with earthy, grounded aesthetics, you might favor rich fabrics, natural colors, and an effortless elegance. your graces shows in your loyalty and ability to create comfort for yourself and others. you can transform any environment into something beautiful and serene.

aglaja in gemini

aglaja in gemini, your beauty comes from intellectual and playful curiosity. You inspire others through your words, quick wit and endless enthusiasm for learning. Youthful and adaptable, your charm is in your expressiveness. your gestures, voice, and way of speaking are very captivating. you show grace through your ability to connect with diverse groups of people. adapt your charm to suit in any situation.

aglaja in cancer

aglaja in cancer, deeply nurturing and empathetic. your inner beauty lies into your ability to emotionally connect with others. Your warmth is your greatest charm. your soft, luminous energy often mirrors the moon, with an ethereal, glowing presence. your style might lean toward a romantic or vintage aesthetics. you create beauty through acts of care, such as cooking, decorating or comforting others. your intuitive understanding of emotional needs is your gift.

aglaja in leo

aglaja in leo, your confidence and creativity lights up in any room. you inspire others with your sunny personality, generosity, and natural leadership. you exude a radiant, almost majestic energy. your hair, posture, and self- presentation often reflects a dramatic flair. your grace is expressed through performance celebration, and self expression. Others are drawn to your ability to make life feel joyous and meaningful.

aglaja in virgo

aglaja in virgo, your inner beauty lies in your modesty and ability to be helpful and useful to others. your ability to perfect, refine and improve things inspire admiration. you possess a clean, polished aesthetic. minimalist and natural styles often enhance your beauty. your grace shows in small, thoughtful, gestures helping others, organizing chaotic situations, and offering practical solutions with quiet elegance.

aglaja in libra

aglaja in libra, you embody harmony and balance. your inner beauty comes from your ability to see and create consistency in relationships and life. your physical beauty is striking, and you often may have a preference for reined, elegant styles. your love for art, fashion, and social harmony enhance your allure.

aglaja in scorpio

aglaja in scorpio, your beauty is intense and transformative. you have a magnetic essence that draws others to your emotional depth and mystery. your overall aura exude magnetism. dark, sultry often resonate with your intense presence. you express grace through your resilience and ability to face challenges with courage. your charm lies in your authenticity.

aglaja in sagittarius

aglaja in sagittarius, your inner beauty comes from your adventurous spirit and optimism. you inspire others through your wisdom, humor, and free spirited nature. your style often reflects a feminine-sexy look, with a care free vibe. your energy radiates vitality and enthusiasm. you express grace by uplifting others with your positive outlook and willingness to embrace the unknown.

aglaja in capricorn

aglaja in capricorn, your beauty lies in your determination, self discipline, and your understanding. others admire your quiet strength and reliability. your physical appearance often reflects a reserved, timeless style. you show your grace through your work ethic and ability to handle challenges with composure. others look at you for leadership and stability.

aglaja in aquarius

aglaja in aquarius, your individuality and your mindset make you uniquely beautiful. you thrive on originality and being inclusive. your appearance often has an unconventional charm. bold clothing and futuristic styles might look good on you. you express grace through innovation and inspiring others to embrace change.

aglaja in pisces

aglaja in pisces, your intuition, and spiritual depth define your inner beauty. you embody a sense of universal love and understanding. ethereal and dream like presence. soft and flowing styles complement your energy. you show grace through acts of kindness and creativity, and your ability to see the beauty in everything.

[alisonsfics]

guest lecturer - part two

pairing: tyler owens x student!reader

summary: when tyler owens shows up in our meteorology class to give a guest lecture, you are left just as speechless as all the other girls. but, tyler is just as awestruck by you.

word count: 3.8k

part 1

Ever since accepting the internship with Tyler, you’d been an anxious mess.

You were overthinking everything. Why did he want you specifically? Did that mean he was actually into you? Or was it just because you were smart and capable?

You spent many sleepless nights wondering how he felt about you. You had no idea if he was actually attracted to you or if you were just a one time, spur of the moment decision.

A few days after you told Dr. Hannigan that you’d accept the internship, you got a text from Tyler. He’d somehow gotten your number from Dr. Hannigan.

He didn’t even have to mention his name for you to know it was him.

Unknown number: “They say spring break can get pretty crazy ;)”

You: “Tyler?!?”

Unknown number: “You already know me so well, gorgeous”

That was the last time you’d talked to him.

You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. So, while it would have been clear to anyone else that he was into you, you found yourself doubting it.

Somehow, you convinced yourself it was just flirty banter. So, you didn’t attempt to reciprocate it.

Normally, you had no problem knowing a guy was into you. Something about Tyler made you feel like an oblivious schoolgirl. You were mortified by even the possibility of humiliating yourself in front of him.

But you allowed yourself a pinch of optimism, and you packed your cutest bras in case that was where the week took you. You also picked out an outfit that was the perfect mix of cute and revealing to wear on the plane, since it would be the first time Tyler had seen you in a month.

When the plane landed, you could feel your nerves coursing through you. You anxiously tapped your fingers against your thigh. Normally, you were a pretty patient person, but not when you knew Tyler Owens was waiting for you on the other side of the airport.

You stared up at the seatbelt sign, hoping you could psychically make it turn off. Instead, the light seemed to mock you.

All you could think about was Tyler. You were excited to see his reaction to seeing you again. The possibilities seemed endless, which excited you.

You smoothed out your jeans and your tight tank top. It felt a little more western than your usual style, but you figured it would be appropriate for Oklahoma. As an added bonus, you hoped Tyler would like it.

You were brought out of your thoughts by the beep of the seatbelt sign turning off. You practically leapt up from your seat. You snatched your suitcase and managed to be one of the first people off the plane.

You were practically running through the airport. You didn’t know what was in store for this week, but you were eager for it to begin.

Your eyes scanned around the pickup area. You saw dozens of people waiting to pick up their family members. You searched for that all too familiar set of green eyes.

Over the chatter of dozens of conversations, you heard someone call out your name.

Your eyes snapped to where the noise came from. Instead of finding a certain cowboy meeting your gaze, you saw a woman.

Her dirty blonde hair was thrown up into a ponytail. Your confusion was written all over your face, so she smiled at you and waved you over.

“Hi, I’m Kate. I work with Tyler. He asked me to come pick you up.” She said, shaking your hand.

“Ohhh okay. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.” You said, failing to hide the disappointment in your voice.

You felt like such an idiot.

You had really been convinced Tyler was going to pick you up. The small amount of hope you’d been holding onto left your body. You felt like you had misread this entire situation.

You should’ve known it was stupid to assume Tyler invited you to continue whatever happened in your professor’s office. This wasn’t personal. This was purely academic, and you were just the best candidate for the internship.

If he’d been into you, he would’ve been at the airport.

You felt mortified.

“Oh god, you were expecting Tyler, weren’t you? I’m so sorry.” Kate quickly apologized, picking up on your disappointment. You shook your head. “No, you don’t have to apologize. I was just being stupid.” You said, trying to hide your embarrassment.

All you wanted to do was hop on a plane and go back home.

Kate probably thought you were so pathetic. You just hoped she didn’t mention any of this to Tyler.

“No, it wasn’t stupid. Tyler really wants to work with you. He hasn’t shut up about your midterm paper in weeks. He said you’re one of the smartest people he’s ever met. Something came up today. That’s the only reason he’s not here to pick you up himself, I promise.” Kate told you.

You appreciated the sentiment, but you were pretty sure she was just trying to save your feelings.

The ride to their base camp was long. You and Kate talked about your studies and some of the experiments she was working on. But you were still overthinking everything.

She pulled the truck into the parking lot of a motel alongside a big camp of other trucks. You noticed a bar and a diner across the street from the motel.

You both got out of the truck, and you grabbed your suitcase from the back. “Here you go. I think you’re in room 261.” Kate said, handing you a key.

“Hey, Kate! You’re back.” You heard someone exclaim. You glanced over your shoulder and saw two guys walking towards you. Kate waved at the two men and gave them both hugs.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Javi, and this is Boone. Tyler’s told us a lot about you.” The one man greeted you. Before you could respond, Boone stood a step closer to you. “He didn’t mention how pretty you are.” Boone said, slowly shaking your hand.

Javi quickly pulled Boone backwards. “Why don’t you go get settled in your room? We were all planning on going to the bar tonight? I can come get you later.” Kate suggested, guiding you towards the motel.

As you walked away, you saw Javi elbow Boone in the side. “Come on, man, you remember what Tyler said, she’s off limits.” You heard him whisper.

You felt your stomach do a flip as you processed what he said. Tyler banning his friends from flirting with you had to mean something.

After you found your room, you flopped backwards onto the bed. Thoughts of Tyler swirled around your head. You wondered where he was and when you would see him.

As if on cue, you heard a loud truck outside with the radio blaring.

You walked over to the window and peeked out the curtains. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the big red truck pulling into the parking lot.

Tyler climbed out of the truck, running a hand through his perfectly messy hair. You felt a shudder run through you as he placed his cowboy hat on his head.

Tyler wasn’t your usual type, but there was something about him.

You wanted to run out and talk to him, but he’d know you’d been watching him, and you didn’t want him to think you were desperate.

You couldn’t help but admire his biceps as he lifted some equipment out of the bed of his truck. You watched him for longer than you cared to admit.

You remembered Kate said you were all going to the bar later tonight. You started to dig through your suitcase to pick out an outfit.

You grabbed a high-waisted pair of jean shorts that made your ass look great. You paired them with the black cowboy boots you brought, along with a lacy black tank top.

You also weren’t ashamed to admit you had a sexy red lace bra and panty set on underneath. You jumped when you heard a knock at your door. You quickly put on a cute flannel and grabbed your phone.

You opened the door and saw Kate. “You ready to go?” She asked you. You eagerly nodded and closed the door behind you.

You noticed yourself constantly looking around and over your shoulder for Tyler. Kate noticed too, but didn’t mention it.

You both immediately spotted Boone and Javi at the bar. They quickly waved you over. “Come on, ladies. We’re doing shots.” Javi said.

Before you could question it, they handed you and Kate both a shot. The four of you clinked your glasses together and downed the shot. You winced and clenched your fist as you swallowed.

“Oh, fuck. Was that tequila? Can’t have too many of those or I’ll get fucked up.” You said, earning a chuckle from Kate.

“Now, that I’d like to see.” You heard a deep voice say from behind you.

You spun around to see who was talking to you. You didn’t really need to look. You already recognized the cologne.

Then, you saw those green eyes staring back at you. You could feel your eyes go wide, and your heart start to beat faster. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled under your breath.

Tyler was the only one that heard it. The smirk on his face was all the confirmation you needed that he’d heard you.

“So, how’s the smartest girl I know?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. You quickly nodded your head, as an incoherent string of words left your mouth. “Yeah, no— uh huh. I’ve be— been good.” You mumbled.

He pulled you in for a quick hug. “I’m still makin’ you nervous, gorgeous?” He whispered in your ear as he hugged you. Goosebumps spread down your arms.

You both were completely aware of the way Boone, Javi, and Kate were all staring at the two of you. It didn’t take a genius to see the tension between you and Tyler.

Tyler licked his lips as he looked you up and down. He wanted to take in every inch of you. The way your shorts hugged your hips. Your shiny lipgloss, more specifically how bad he wanted to see it messily smeared across your lips.

The one thought he kept coming back to was how much better you’d look in his hat.

“I’m glad you were able to come.” He said, smiling down at you. You hadn’t remembered how tall he was. “Yeah, I’ll bet you’re glad.” Javi muttered under his breath with a smirk.

“C’mon, let’s go talk.” He said, gesturing towards the other side of the bar. His hand landed on the small of your back as he led you across the room.

With his large hand pressed against your back, you couldn’t help recall how effortlessly he’d picked you up and set you on the desk. You pushed away the thought and the warm feeling in your stomach that accompanied it.

“I meant it before. I’m really excited to work with you. We have some exciting tests and stuff that I think you’ll enjoy.” Tyler said, twirling you around so you faced him.

“I’m really grateful for the opportunity.” You said, smiling up at him. You were wracking your brain for anything else you could say, but your mind had gone blank.

“You’re saying it like I’m doing you a favor. You earned this. Dr. Hannigan sent me a bunch of your work. You’re fucking brilliant.” Tyler told you.

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. Before Tyler could say anything else, he froze, and his eyes locked on yours. He reached his hand towards you and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, waiting for his next move.

He softly interlaced his fingers with yours and pulled you towards the dance floor. He pulled you backwards into his chest until you both were pressed up against each other. His hot breath ran down your neck, giving you chills.

He confidently stretched his hand across your stomach. He was marking you as his in front of anyone. Every guy in the bar knew not to mess with you if you were with Tyler.

With a rare burst of courage, you grinded your hips back against him. He groaned in your ear. “Oh, fuck, gorgeous,” he mumbled. His voice came out deeper and huskier than you’d ever heard it.

He moved your hair out of the way and started kissing behind your ear. You felt a cocky smirk grow on your face. You knew exactly whose room you were ending up in tonight.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, making Tyler hips rut into you. “You know, I saw you watching me from your room earlier? It took all my self control to not go up to your room.” He whispered in your ear.

The room erupted into gasps, causing you both to separate. Your eyes drifted to the front door where Javi had just tripped over a barstool and fell face first.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me. He’s fucking wasted. I have to bring him back to his room. I will be right back. I promise.” Tyler said, running over to Javi’s side.

You found a stool at the bar to sit at while Tyler was gone. Then, Boone appeared at your side. He reeked of booze, and you could tell he was almost as drunk as Javi. “Hey, Boone. You doing okay?” You asked, gesturing towards the seat next to you.

He plopped himself down and nodded. “I saw you and Tyler getting friendly.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. Your embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. The last thing you wanted was Tyler’s friends thinking you slept with Tyler to get the internship.

“Oh, you saw that?” You asked, nervously. He just chuckled and nodded.

“Don’t worry. He told us all about you and your little spicy time at office hours.” Boone whispered. You felt like your heart skipped a beat. You had full confidence Boone only mentioned it because he was hammered, but that meant Tyler had told him.

Your anxiety and overthinking went into overdrive.

Everything started to click into place for you.

You were his trophy. The hot, young college girl for him to brag about to his friends. He didn’t care about your work or teaching you. He just wanted to get in your pants and show you off to his friends.

“Oh, I’m gonna be sick.” You mumbled, heading for the front door. You felt unbelievably naive. Of course a guy like Tyler would act like this.

You walked across the parking lot, towards your motel room.

“Hey! Wait up, where you goin’?” You heard Tyler call after you.

You ignored him and kept walking, speeding up your pace. “Leave me alone.” You yelled at him over your shoulder when he started to follow you.

You kept walking, ignoring Tyler’s voice. You heard his footsteps speed up as he ran to catch up with you.

He jumped in front of you and put his hands up to stop you. “What’s wrong?” He asked you, confused.

“Why did you invite me here?” You asked him point blank. His expression only became more confused. “What do you mean? I already told you.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Tyler searched your eyes for any idea of why you were so upset. “You told Boone…” you said, softly.

“Told Boone what?” Tyler asked, gently cupping your face. You sighed and pushed his hands off of you. “You told him that we almost hooked up. You didn’t want me here because you think I’m smart. You just wanted to have a hookup with a college girl that you could brag to your friends about.” You said, storming off towards your room.

Tyler could only watch in shock as you walked away.

As soon as you got to your room, you fell onto your bed with your head in your hands. You didn’t know how you were supposed to face Tyler tomorrow morning. You laid there for what felt like hours trying to decide what to do. You debated packing your bags several times.

You were taken out of your thoughts when there was a knock at the door.

You walked over to the door and opened it a crack. You saw a sympathetic Tyler.

“Please, let me explain before you slam the door in my face.” He begged you.

You stepped out of your room and closed the door behind you. “What do you want?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“I promise that our almost-hookup and my attraction to you has nothing to do with why I wanted you to do the internship. I really think you are brilliant. I’m sorry that I told Boone and Javi about us. I only did it because they’re my friends. I didn’t think about it from your perspective and realize they’re people that you’re going to work with professionally. I’m really sorry.” He said, genuinely.

You pursed your lips, thinking about whether you’d accept his apology. Something in his eyes made you want to trust him. “Thank you for that. I’m sorry too. I think I got anxious and started to overthink everything. I've never done anything like this.” You said, honestly.

You could see the relief on Tyler’s face. “C’mere,” he said, leaning in giving a short kiss.

“You know what? I have some baseline readings I need to get before tomorrow. You want to go on a little trip?” He suggested. As soon as you nodded, he swooped you up bridal style and carried you to his truck.

He helped you into the truck before jumping into the drivers seat. You both drove in silence until Tyler got where he wanted to go.

You both got out and walked to the back of the truck. You helped Tyler take some measurements in a peaceful silence. Every few minutes, Tyler would do something goofy to get you to giggle.

After you’d finished the measurements, he lifted you up into the bed of the truck, where he’d set up a blanket. You patted the seat next to you, so Tyler would join you.

“You want to know the best real-world tip I can give you for storms?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You looked over at him, waiting for his answer.

“Gotta listen to the wind and be able to know what’s happening just by listening. Here, I’ll show you.” He told you, opening his toolbox. He grabbed a small towel and carefully tied it over your eyes. “Listen, over to the left. You can hear the pressure shifting.” He whispered softly to you.

“The winds picking up over there.” You said, pointing over to the right side.

“Yep, that’s right, gorgeous. You’re a quick learner. It took me forever to recognize stuff like that.” He told you.

The wind quieted down, and the air felt peaceful. The only noise you could hear was Tyler’s soft breathing. You felt his large palm rest on top of your thigh. “What’re you doing?” You asked, softly.

There was a change in the air.

You felt Tyler’s lips on yours.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he kissed you. You quickly kissed him back. His other hand found your hip and laid you down. A groan escaped his lips as you ran your hands down his back.

Tyler eagerly tugged your flannel off your arms and threw it to the side. You pulled off your blindfold, and then saw Tyler unbuttoning his shirt. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you admired him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He groaned, as you ran your fingers over his now bare chest. Your hands landed on his belt, quickly unbuckling it. He kicked off his jeans and laid back down on top of you.

“Been dreaming of this for a month,” he told you, leaving sloppy kisses down your chest. He tugged your shirt over your head.

His movements stopped when he caught a glimpse of the dark red lace of your bra. “Wait til you find out it’s a set.” You teased him. Tyler shuddered at the thought.

His grabbed at the belt loops of your shorts and quickly pulled them off your legs. “Eager, cowboy?” You teased. He could feel his pants begin to tighten as he looked down at you. “I’m never gonna forget this.” He mumbled, before burying his face in your neck and sucking on the soft skin.

“You been thinking about finishing what we started? You been lying in bed thinking about that day like I have?” He mumbled against your skin. His hands slid down your sides, stopping on your thighs.

He ran his fingers over the outside of your panties. You let out a soft moan, bucking your hips up against his hand. “Need you,” you begged.

Tyler slid your panties to the side. He ran his finger through your folds, collecting your wetness.

“You’re gonna feel so good, baby,” he almost moaned. You tugged down his boxers enough for his cock to spring out.

“Come on, Tyler, fuck me. I don’t think I can wait much longer.” You begged him.

“Oh, fuck, gorgeous. You’re so needy. I can’t say no to you.” He groaned, grabbing your hips. He lined himself up and pushed into your folds.

You shut your eyes, whimpering as he pushed into you. “I’m ready. I need you to move, please.” You mumbled.

Tyler quickened his pace and started thrusting into you. He roughly grabbed your hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your eyes rolled back as he reached even deeper. “Oh, fuck,” he grunted.

You wrapped his hair around your fingers. You screamed out his name, bucking your hips up into his thrusts. “Go ahead, gorgeous. No one can hear you. You can be as loud as you want.” He said, speeding up his thrusts.

You guided one of his hands between your legs. He smirked against the kiss as he started rubbing tight circles against your clit. A high-pitch moan escaped your lips.

“I’m almost there, baby.” He moaned against your lips. You nodded your head. “Me too, oh, fuck,” you moaned.

Your fingers scratched down his back. You felt a tightness in your stomach. “Gotta go faster,” he mumbled, thrusting his whole body into you.

Your back arched against the blanket. Tyler's thrusts faltered. “Oh, shit,” he grunted as he came inside you.

Your stomach jumped as you hit your peak. “Oh, fuck fuck fuck,” you called out, as you came with him.

Tyler slowed his pace and then collapsed beside you. “That was even better than I imagined.” He said, kissing your shoulder. You nodded, still catching your breath.

“I think I’m officially a spring break fan.” You agreed.

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[cosmicpuzzle]

4th Lord in Houses

1st House

You enjoyed nurturing in youth and consequently you are close to your mother. Being in good touch with your emotional mind you are true to your feelings and values. With this disposition in life you will gain happiness, particularly in the form of comfort, property and wealth.

2nd House

Having a secure family life and financial status gives you more comfort than many others. Therefore, for the purpose of comfort and security, you will tend to accumulate considerable wealth. Your mind is cunning and practical. Your mother will have good financial opportunities in life.

3rd House

You will only acquire comfort and security through your own courage and assertion. The need you have for stability and comfort is the motivation for the initiative necessary for accomplishment. Although you may have lacked comforts from your mother, you will acquire security with you own skills and abilities.

4th House

You are comfortable and content and well aware of your emotional needs. There is a strong need of emotional intimacy and close friendships. You tend to be very personal and loyal to your friends. Property of land or real estate will come easily to you, and you will enjoy comforts all your life.

5th House

You seek fulfillment and comfort in a lively interaction with knowledge. Moral values and spiritual principles, which you may have gotten from your mother, play an important part of your life. You are happy and likable and financial resources will always be available to you.

6th House

You may find it problematic to settle into a comforting and secure lifestyle. In your efforts to do so you may encounter all kinds of obstacles and irritants, which are only resolved over a lapse of time. Due to this, however, you may develop your own independent problem-solving style of fulfilling your comforting needs. There is a possibility that your mother will suffer from a medical or mental complaint.

7th House

Your basic needs for nurturing and comforts are only fulfilled by close partnerships or marriage. Therefore, you will seek out a spouse who is strong and protective and can connect to you on an intimate emotional level. You will get a good education, although you may not get to display your knowledge.

8th House

You are likely to harbor a deep interest in occult or mysterious fields of knowledge. In a sense you may seek comfort by exploring and unveiling hidden mysteries. You may, however, find it hard to fulfill your basic needs for emotional comfort and security because of constant challenges and transformations in that arena. Your mother may have suffered in her life or the relationship between you was inadequate.

9th House

You may get fulfillment for your tender need for comfort by seeking out and assimilating knowledge, philosophical or religious, that expanded your horizon, and makes you feel at home where the knowledge was. Your mother was probably a spiritual person which gave you good moral values and a healthy outlook in life. Higher education is a very appropriate direction for you and your life will be characterized by fortune and happiness.

10th House

You may feel most at home in your work, which is very likely to be very successful and give you great social prestige and reputation. Political influence or governmental favors are few of the tools you utilize to step up to fame and power.

11th House

You seek your comforts in optimism and openness for new endeavors. Meeting and doing business with others will bring you contentment, and it's quite possible that you can open avenues of resources for yourself by supplying security and contentment to others, for example in the form of real estate. There is possibility that you harbor a fear, a secret ailment or disease.

12th House

Your best way of attaining happiness and inner contentment may be through selfless service to those who are in need. This is how you may find that making others happy gives you comfort and contentment. It might be difficult, however, for you to gain any substantial and lasting material comforts in life, but your afterlife might look better than others.

For Readings DM

[messyemmy]

Grapejuice (fic) Part Four

Premise: You've made a deal with the devil, and the next few days of vacation are proving what a silly mistake that was. But for Harry, this might be the most fun he's had in a long time.

Word Count: 15k.

Warnings: Smut! Mind-blowing banter. Use of She/Her.

Grapejuice Masterlist

Fashion Board / Playlist 

Other Writing

After a full twenty four hours- of grumpily scoffing, rethinking your every life decision, wanting to kill Jack and his stupid, sexy, friend- it’s time to put that well-practiced optimism to good use. Nobody will ruin your damn vacation. 

And if that means constantly dodging and dismissing Harry and his frustratingly enticing lewd remarks, so be it. 

This morning is simply perfect- everything you want from a summers day- and it would be a crime to spend another second couped up under the covers. Your mind runs over the little to-do-list of holiday activities you hope to try, easily settling on a trip to the Botanical Gardens. 

Getting dressed is just as simple deciding on when your spot the forest green corset with golden paisly swirls. You hadnt found the right moment to style it, but now you pair it atop a crisp white puff-sleeve button-up and some classic mossy straight-cut jeans. 

While packing the last of your necessities into a cream and green embroidered tote bag, the idea to invite Jack along seems fitting. Maybe as a little apology for the less than warm welcome he recevied upon your last encounter. He’s always the easiest to win over. 

The stroll from your villa to the ones where the boys reside is far too short for your liking. You need an oceans distance between you and Harry, let alone five hundred meters.  

You were about to brush your knuckles across the door a third time, but your hand quickly retreating as Jack came into view, beaming down at you. He‘s devoid of a shirt, wearing swim shorts and sandals, a towel draped across his shoulders, tote bag in his other hand. 

“Morning, lovely.” He greets, windening the door completely, and exposing the entrance hall and kitchen. 

And then you see Harry - shirtless, too -spreading butter across two slices of slightly burnt toast. His back turned, muscles flexing now and then.

You blink back, shoving sheer attraction to the back of your brain, returning your attention to Jack, trying to regain the memory of what brought you to their doorstep to begin with. 

“Ah, Judas. Settled in, have you?” You don’t care. He’s the reason you’re in this mess. 

“Mm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in my life.” he sighs sorrowfully.

“You say that every year.” You scoff. 

“I do not.” 

Harry leans curiously against the countertop, taking another bite of his toast. Still, while chewing and swallowing, he ponderously mumbles,

“Don’t what?” You peer over Jack’s shoulder, and with faux-nonchalance, you capture Harry’s gaze- but only briefly, it’s as much as you can do without the threat of your thoughts straying from the topic at hand- eyes darting away and informing him, 

“Complain about winter.”

“Oh, he definitely does.” 

“Not every-”

“Every year.” Harry says with certainty, chewing on a corner of crust.

Jack sighs and shrugs his shoulders in defeat. Harry’s gaze is happily settled on your face, sending over a heatwave that warmed the blush beneath your cheeks. The longer he looked, the less real you felt- a fantasy under his watch, someone special and irreplaceable to him, and you were scared- to disappoint, to not live up to the person he saw you to be.

You returned focus to Jack, forcing yourself to remain centred and remember why you came here to begin with. Shifting weight to your left foot, a soft clear of the throat, 

“Anyhow… what are your plans for the day?”

“I’m heading to the beach, and I’m not returning until I’m so tan that the concept of winter no longer exists.” He informs. 

“Oh, alright, never mind then.” You should have known.

“Did you have something else in mind?” Jack clearly doesn’t feel much regret.

“I was thinking of taking a trip to Giardini di Augusto.” You prepare for repeated rejection.

“Say more.”

“Botanical Gardens.”

“Say more, more.”

“Flowers.”

“Say less.” He dismisses, wondering why his sister would even bother seeking his company to look at flowers rather than spending time by the sea. 

You sigh, there’s no use in arguing, it always results in someone tripping the other one up. But now there is a more stressful matter at hand, and he is sauntering over, torso still bare, sending you a suspiciously hopeful smile before stopping next to Jack and speaking up, 

“I like flowers.” 

“Ground-breaking.” Your eyes roll. 

“See, Harry can join you!” Jack concluded cheerfully. 

“Oh no, I’m perfectly fine going alone.” You waved them off, heat rushing to the tips of your ears, nose, and fingertips.

“Nonsense.” Harry waves you off in return. 

“No-” You start but never finish because he has already turned his back on you, tanned back rejecting your objection. Walking away, he calls over his shoulder, 

“Let me just grab my wallet.”

“And a shirt, Harry.”

He’s heading to the staircase but suddenly halts, his head tilting back to address you with a sassy smirk, 

“You sure about that?”

You can only scoff as he ascends the steps, and once you’re certain he is out of sight, you land a weak- but meaningful- punch to Jack’s upper arm.

“Oi!” He whines, hand rushing up to soothe the minor thump.

“Stop pawning your friend off on me.” The words leave your lips through clenched teeth, practically hissing, your eyes are like the slits of a snake, pointer finger aimed straight at him.  

“I thought you liked him now.” Jack’s brows furrow. 

“What?”

“Seemed like you were finally friends, is all.” He shrugs, resting against the door frame with far too much comfortability- as if he were already on the sand, soaking up the sun. 

“Impossible.” You defend, but reconsider,  “Acquaintances, maybe.”  conceding for the sake of nobody but yourself. ,

“Oh c’mon, you’ll have fun!”

“This is the last time, Jack.” You warn. 

He starts preparing to reassure you further, but the sound of Harry’s sneakers shuffling down the stairs means he is officially off the hook- for now- and with a swift goodbye, Jack moves past you and exits the villa in pursuit of summer. 

Harry rounds the corner, his mouth-watering chest now covered by a tan hand-knitted shirt and a pair of unnecessarily flattering brown shorts.

“Let’s go, lovie.” Harry announces, walking straight past your agitated figure, forcing you to fasten your steps to catch up, cursing him and his unnecessarily long legs. But, when you get a look at the delicately crafted and colourful design decorating the back of his shirt, you decide to play nice… for now… for fashion. 

🍷

The breeze carries the sun with each step taken, ensuring that the heat keeps you both simmering and agitated. Harry is strolling in sync, enjoying himself far too much already, considering you have only just arrived and have hardly made it past the entrance. 

You’re dreading the day to come, carrying it along like a duffle bag and pretending that the excitement Harry currently exudes isn’t extremely palpable. 

But, with the aroma of freshly grazed grass and an array of green leaves littered everywhere, you find your legs have started to carry you further along the cobblestones, chasing the sweet scents of summer flowers. Harry’s steps never slowed, as curious as yourself. 

“You don’t have to humour me, you know.” Eyes glued ahead, you remind him once his strides reflect your own and he is in synchronicity.  

“Hey now. He softly nudges your arm with his elbow, “I told you I happen to like flowers.” 

“Everyone likes flowers.” You inform like it’s common knowledge, “I’m sure you had something better to do with your afternoon.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.”

“How sweet.” You remark snidely, but dislike that your sarcasm is coating the truth; what he said is sweet. 

Maybe it’s time to attempt a positive attitude, leave all sass and snark at the entrance and just get through this date without any scandalous incidents. So, when Harry suggests the pair of you should follow the left path, you nod and send him a soft smile. 

Slowing your steps to scan the first few rows of flowers, planted neatly and flourishing greatly- an array of saturated colours- the type that seems straight out of the paint tube, so threateningly bright. 

Harry comes to a halt first, his pointer finger focuses in on a set of fuchsia and yellow pillowing petals resting upon gangly stems. He looks at them with nostalgic fondness, 

“Mum has some of these in her new garden.” 

“Snapdragons.” Stopping beside him before continuing, “How is your mum, by the way?”

“She’s good. She’s doing better. I saw her and Gem over Easter.”

All these newfound and reminiscent thoughts about Harry have you thinking about home a lot. What home means to you. 

Turns out, most of it means the people you grew up with. It’s strange to hear about the people you once saw so regularly. Before the thought shifts to one of sadness, your mind clings to the thing you missed most,

“Did she make her Decadent Double Fudgy Chocolate Cake?” 

“Of course.” Harry smiles so big it hurts thinking about the way you used to revel in just saying the elaborate name mum had given to her tried and true recipe.  

“God, I miss her cooking.” 

“I miss your cooking.” He counters. 

It's unclear who began strolling again, but both of you followed each other along the pathway, and Harry snuck his glances at every chance possible, baffled each time he was reminded of your straight, stern features.

“What are you on about?” Now, your forehead creased, wracking your brain for all the recipes you ever replicated,

“Oh c’mon, you know I love your lasagna.” he reminded incredulously,

“No, I did not know that.”

“Well, now you know.” Harry confirmed, pointing to a bushel of indigo star-like petals, “These?”

“Delphinium.”

“Delphiniums.” He repeated tenderly, but when he turned to you, that tenderness was nowhere to be found, and the familiar aching of dismissal wrapped Harry up into a cocoon of heart-thumping, head-throbbing unease,

“Does this count as our date?” 

“No.” He hardly lets you finish, washing away your curiosity with a wave of certainty.

“What’s taking you so long?” You groan- and you hope he doesn’t take it as a sign of stirring excitement, but mostly because as hard as you worked, the enthusiasm stirring in your stomach is impossible to dismiss.

“Antsy, are we?” He gently bumps his hip against your own, “There's no rush.”

“I just-  I don’t get you!”

You halt, arms flailing up in sync with your boot stroppily stomping along the cobblestone. He only smiles fondly- and quite smugly,

“That’s because you have little patience.” 

Harry continues strolling, knowing you’ll be quick to follow. And you are, taking a long stride to catch up to him, ready to prod him further, unsure if you’re just curious or actually looking forward to it like he suggests. 

“I Just find it interesting that you finally got what you persistently nagged for, and suddenly there's no rush?”

“ Don’t cheapen it.” He scoffs, “I gave you the chance to opt out, the offer still stands.”

“Why does it feel like you’re up to no good?” You wearily squint.

“Doesn’t it always?”

“You’re putting me on edge.”

“That’s also nothing new.” 

And though he should chalk it up to frustration, Harry can’t stop optimism from swallowing him whole, maybe, just maybe, you were actually keen on the date to follow. Before he allows his self-esteem to sink deeper, he shakes it off and simply shrugs, a cheeky smile curving at his lips, 

“When I do take you on a date, I want it to be a ‘lil more romantic than this.”

“You’re full of it, Styles.” You grumble, feet pattering further along the path.

“And you’re beautiful.” He shrugs once more, making sure to keep up.

You slow when Harry spots a bed of bright pink and red butterfly-like flowers and he looks down at you expectantly. 

“Impatiens.” 

“Pretty.” He admires before continuing down the path. You find your body constantly swaying towards his own, like he was your missing magnet, needing to have to close. It’s after your third attempt to create reasonable distance when Harry ponders, 

“What does your new house look like?”

“It’s only an apartment, but I think it’s cute.”

His mouth parts and releases something like a scoff and a laugh gets jumbled into one. He locks eyes with your own, ensuring you see his obnoxiously rolling as he chides, 

“That tells me nothing.”

“Cute is better than my home in London.”

“Well, that’s not hard to beat.”

“Okay, Ritchie Rich.” You mock, elbow brushing his forearm before you can think to fight the urge. He’s so beautiful that each flower seems to dull behind his stature. 

Especially when he smiles knowingly and ignores your sarcasm, 

“Tell me more.”

“Loads of colour.”

“Purple?”

“Oh, yes.” You deadpan like it’s moronic to assume otherwise. 

Harry has those all-too-familiar feelings where the past suddenly blends with the present and he cannot begin to comprehend it. Cannot begin to handle the intensity of how much he likes seeing you in your entirety. Chest tightening at the idea that he might be in even deeper than he thought. 

He still doesn't know how  to put it into words, but tries nevertheless, 

“It’s funny… You’ve changed, but you haven’t changed.” 

You hear him, but not really, because there’s this strange surge of excitement that has been sparking beneath the surface, and you want to tell him more,

“The outside is just, amazing. It has aged brick walls and a terrace with green railings… white window panes… oh, and the ivy’s been creeping up the walls, I’m sure they’ll cut it down eventually, but it gives it a fairytale-like feeling.”

“Sounds like a dream. Perfect place for a fairy, like yourself.” 

You can’t stop yourself, the compliments, the mushy feelings, it’s like word vomit,

“Maybe I can show you one day.”

“Oh, Clutz. Are you tryna get me into your bed?” He gently teases.

“No. Just, like… describing it doesn’t do it justice.” Your cheeks are swollen red and you dip your head to ensure it goes unnoticed. 

“If you say so.” He only shrugs and walks on with that stupid smug smile. 

“Hey, I do!” You chase, almost bumping into his suddenly still figure. He’s looking at you and waiting for a name for the burnt orange flowers with what seems like hundreds of tiny petals,  “Zinnias.”

“I’d love to see your house, Y/n.” He simply states. You wait a beat but he has no more to say.

“Huh.” Your astonishment is hard to repress. 

“What?” 

“Nothing… guess I was expecting some snide remark.”

“Like?”

You stop once more, turning your body’s attention to his own, your posture stiffening into one of impatience for his purposeful ignorance, 

“I dunno, something like, ‘it wouldn’t take much to get me into your bed.’”

“Well, it wouldn’t.” He shrugs like it's the oldest of news, “You’re irresistible.”

“There it is…” You smile… Why aren’t you annoyed? Worse- why do you feel a rush of satisfaction? 

Harry is easily distracted by something to your left, his features falling to a frown that has you quickly following his gaze whatever seems to perplex him. He’s having a stare-off with a bushel of leaves and stem, pointing curiously, 

“This seems out of place. What is it?”

“I think that’s just a shrub.” A giggle paints your pearly whites into a full-on grin, and you shamefully snort once he starts to shamelessly chuckle along with goofy humility. 

“Well, what are these, then?” 

“Narcissus.” You nod stoically at the array of tiny golden trumpets. 

“When did  you become a botanist?”

“They have labels, moron.”

You swat his arm with playful satisfaction, Harry might think you’re an easy target, but it’s nice to remind him that he’s just as easy- if not easier. 

Your phone dings once, then twice, then thrice, and you already know exactly who’s looking for you. Harry stands by as you begin to fish it out of your () bag. Once retrieved you confirm your suspicions, Savina. Your forehead apologetically furrows as you sweetly excuse yourself, 

“Savina is about to blow up my phone if I don’t respond.”

S: Are u out?

S: Can’t believe ur up before noon

S: I’m getting breakfast without u, yes?

Y/n: Beauty sleep is vital.

Y/n: I’m at the Botanical Gardens

Y/n: ….

Y/n: With Harry

Waiting for a guaranteed ‘omg’ for Savina to pop up, your gaze wanders in pursuit of Harry. He’s off to the right, crouched over and looking rather suspicious. You’re about to investigate before another ding jolts you back to attention. 

S: Ooh la la!

Y/n: Don’t start.

S: Is this the date?

Y/n: Apparently not

S: What is he waiting for?

Y/n: That’s what I said!

With that, you haphazardly slide the phone back into your tote and stroll along to meet Harry, who is already making his way back to you, one arm mysteriously tucked behind his back, and you can already see his lips beginning to purse with naughty amusement.

He arrives and wastes no time before whipping his hidden arm out to present you with the most chivalrous of gifts, proudly holding out a blooming red rose and offering it for your favour,

“I got you this.”

“You stole it!” Surprise has your voice squeaking on realisation- struggling between fearing the consequences of his crime, and finding his little gesture absolutely swoon-worthy. 

“Clearly.” 

“We’re not supposed to do that.” You whisper, and Harry declares himself dead at the sight of excitement glimmering along your face like glitter, eyes wide with adrenaline, cheeky grin chipping away at your gasp-spread mouth.

“Live a little, pretty girl.” In a hushed tone, he bows forward, hand still wrapped around the ruby petals’ stem.

“We’ll get caught-”

“We won’t.” He reassures with a certainty that has you confidently reaching out to accept. His palm feels as soft as the rose when his hand lingers and tickles at your wrist. 

Bringing the rose up to your face, about to embrace its’ sweet aroma, you’re nearly knocked off of your feet when Harry’s hand suddenly intertwines with your own and he begins to run down the trail, tugging you along. 

He’s cheerfully encouraging, “Run! We’re outlaws!”

And you have no choice other than to pick up your steps, giggling at his silliness, letting him get the most out of it. He has you winding down the pathway, turning left here, right there- and it’s only when your legs can no longer take the burden of held-in laughter, that the two of you decide to rest beneath the shade of a lemon tree.

The silence that settles is as soothing as the warm summer skies as Harry rests his back against the ageing trunk, proving how easy it is for him to get comfortable in just about any situation. 

He stretches out his mostly bare legs, ankles politely crossing atop one another. So you follow suit, making a home in the bouncy blades of grass, one elbow balancing your weight as you let your legs splay out like his own, scuffed boots inches from his much shinier pair. 

The birds have created an orchestra, they sing as a choral, buzzing bugs humming bass tones, the distant waves beat down on rocks like a thumping drum, wind in the leaves like flutes, and people chattering along the pathway all come together in the most serene of symphonies. 

Harry hopes he remembers this tune forever- at least long enough for him to jot it down in his most precious notebooks. 

And all of his thoughts have turned to lullabies about the pretty girl in green resting in the summer shade, hair strands wisping in the gentle wind, and a teeny glint of a content smile. 

Before he ends up writing an entire song, Harry’s voice smoothly calls for your focus, thick and curious, harmonizing with nature’s instrumentals, 

“Why haven’t you come to any of my album releases?”

“The ones at your house?”

“Yeah. For close friends and family.”

His stare feels like a laser beam aimed straight at your head. He looks at you with an expectancy sterner than usual, the type that you know will be impossible to dismiss or divert. Shamefully dipping your head, you busy yourself by twirling the rose stem still clasped in your hand,

“I-”

“No excuses.”

“I have been to your releases…For One Direction.”

You glance over through deeply furrowed brows and Harry’s features expand with bewilderment,  

“That’s a lie, too!”

“It’s not!” You sit up now, crisscrossing your legs like some type of defence mechanism. “You weren’t there for A.M.” He says it so factually like it keeps him up at night. 

 “Really?”

“Trust me.” 

Harry shifts his body into a more upright position, and his attention feels like you’re being prosecuted- worse- like he’s set up a lie detector and there’s no way around telling a fib. So, you shrug in all honesty,

“Didn’t think you’d notice if I was there or not.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” He scoffs.

“It is ?”

“Assumptions, Y/n…” He sing-songs at the chance to call out your hypocrisy. 

“Touche.”All you can do is shrug and concede, bashfully smiling at his success in stunning you to silence. Where were you during the album release? You must have been around, right?” 

Harry observes your microfeatures- each crease, every freckle, the corner crinkles of your eyes and lips. It would take a fool not to notice your thoughts were racing like a runner on the track. It’s cute- very cute- but he’d hate to let you spiral for much longer,

“I wanted you to hear some of the songs…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wrote more than on the other albums… Made a lot of home reference, and like, growing up I guess…”

He hopes you can read between the lines of his absent words as you do so often. Hopes that ‘home’ means to you what it does to him. Because let's be honest, the years leading up to stardom were the most real- the most consistent- the most time he got to spend with you. 

It’s a shock to both of you when a snide remark about childhood fails to leave your lips, instead, a shy smile starts to form and you say,

“That’s actually… very cute.”

“Is that affection I hear?” He coos. 

You take a beat, begging for the bashful blushing of your cheeks to fade, unable to return his teasing stare. It’s too late to reel back in your thoughts and too late to dismiss the dread prickling at and dampening your palms,

“I’m sorry I kinda just disappeared after college… I would’ve really liked to hear them… especially the first one.”

“The best one?”He prods proudly. Praying he keeps the gates of your vulnerability open for a while longer.

“Just felt close to home, so I guess, yes, my favourite.” You don’t understand the magnitude of the relief that riddles Harry when you confirm that his longing for home is palpable enough to share through a speaker.  

To cover your intrusively honest tracks- and dismiss the unfamiliar look in his eyes- you quickly add, “But, it’s a matter of opinion.”

“I value your opinion.” Harry simply states.“The most.” His constant certainty is discerning. 

“Don’t be a suck-up.” 

“What if I’m telling the truth?” 

“I’d say you need a better advisory.” You inform.

“Don’t want one.” He tilts his chin to the sun in a childish strop. 

“You want me?”

“Y’know me so well.”

He shakes his head and shrugs knowingly, letting his eyes flutter shut, sighing out in satisfaction as he soaks up this very moment. You can't look away- he seems so peaceful like he’s finally able to remove every version of Harry other than this one- a soft soul desperate to give love and be loved in return. 

It’s before noon and you’ve done more thinking than four years worth of uni studies. Wracking your brain for melodies of Harry’s that evoke that oh-so-familiar feeling of home. But your brain is in overdrive and every note blends into an auditorium of his husky voice humming along to a timid guitar. A single name doesn't even come to mind- all on the tip of your tongue, but so quickly they dissipate like candyfloss dropped in a puddle. 

You hate to ask for his help- hate the idea of him knowing he successfully wormed his way into your thought- but these moments of forgetfulness are the type that eat away at your entirety, there’s no way around it,

“Which songs?” His lashes flutter apart, crystal gaze greeting your own with curiosity. You elaborate,  “From the album.”

That all-too-familiar devilish smirk starts to draw his lips into a toothy grin, and you want to flog yourself for thinking he might make things simpler for a change,

“You’ll have to go back and listen.”

He’s so full of cheek and charm that it’s too compelling to do anything but exactly what he says. 

🍷

It’s sweltering today and the only thing you’ve been thinking of since waking up is the icy blue refreshment that is the swimming pool. So adamant to spend the day near the water, you had forgone putting normal clothes on after a quick shower. 

Huffing out after finally managing to securely tie up the thin strands of your favourite pink bikini with read hearts, it was time to grab a towel and some sunscreen. But when your stomach interrupts the quest with a deep and needy grumble, swimming will have to wait til after some brunch. 

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, it’s a bad sign when you spot Harry sitting atop the kitchen island, dangly legs gently swinging and bumping against the marble as he absentmindedly bites into what looks like a delectable golden croissant drizzled in gooey chocolate. 

When he finally notices you, he smiles a goofy grin- still chewing on his pastry. And at the simplest of gestures, you wonder if the temperature has risen or if it’s the hot irritation bubbling beneath your skin. 

He knows it sends you into a tizzy whenever he shows up unannounced- you think he revels in it. And he does. Of course he does.  

But he won't get in the way of you and those damn tempting croissants, stacked on a plate so enticingly just to the left of Harry. 

You make a break for the food, reaching out and snatching the nearest chocolate-garnished flakey goodness, and Harry watches on in amusement,

“Look at you, y’re practically salivating.”

Glaring at his astute observation, you skip the part where you grab a plate and fork, taking an over-ambitious bite, and you hold back an erotic groan as the croissant melts in your mouth, coating the corner of your lips in cocoa. 

You’ve already taken a second bite before the chuckle brewing in Harry’s chest has the chance to release itself, but when it does, he struggles to keep it at bay.   

He hopes your focus would be so dedicated to your self-appointed golden ticket that his soft giggles of bewildering endearment, but when he looks over, your eyes are already spitefully squinting his way.

Instead of words, you slowly raise the last third of the pastry to your parted mouth and push it past your lips, taking a couple of agitated bites before swallowing and shrugging him off. 

Wrecklessly clapping your hands together to dust your hand of all crumbs, you weakly attempt to swipe any remnants of pastry flakes from your chin and gear up to get on with your day. Harry just can’t let that happen, can he? 

“C’mere.” He requests. 

“No.”

“Just c’mere.”

Rationalising the fact that you find yourself standing before him, arms crossed over your chest as you maintain suspicion and wait on Harry’s reasons for calling you over. 

“Closer.” His instruction is tender and seems devoid of the standard mischievous intentions, so you take a broad step forward, toes close to bumping into the cabinet. 

He cautiously raises one hand and curls his finger in a gesture for you to lean even further into his orbit. And you do, so easily that it's actually pitiful. 

Your cheek practically guides itself into his palm as his fingers rest delicately atop your jaw and his thumb ever so gently brushes the corner of your lip before he hastily removes your face from his hold and raises his thumb to his mouth, 

“Y’missed a lil’ bit of the chocolate.” He shares, popping his thumb past his plushy lips, sucking sweetly before pulling away with a sultry ‘pop’. 

You don’t need to see it to feel how your pupils have swollen with frustrated allure, and Harry surely notices too. His tongue flicks out to glide across his bottom lip and it’s so unnecessarily sultry that it seems to tug you nearer, has your body slotting itself between his parted legs. 

Harrys trapped, for a change, and by the looks of it, he hardly minds. With both hands balanced on the countertop, your arms create a trap around him- well, more like his legs and torso, but Harry pretends to be at your mercy nevertheless. 

He softly chuckles, vibrating against the crown of your hair, then his body softly shakes with humour and yours rumbles by proxy. 

“What’s so funny?” You tilt back to see him better. 

“Just thinking about the last time we were like this.”

“Halloween?” You remember it like it was yesterday.

“Mm.” He hums with praise, leaning in, his body like a velcro. 

“I hope this time ends better than the last.” You tease, left hand trailing up the expanse of his forearm.

“Well, that depends.” He hushly whispering into the shell of your ear, before pulling back to lock his gaze with your own. 

“On?” Your palm rests on the crook of his shoulder and neck, nails testingly raking his freckled skin. 

“Is there anyone in this house who wants to punch me for talking to you?” He says with suave sarcasm.

“Shove off.” You scoff and it completely contradicts the swell of adoration that seems to hit you head-on. 

And though you can't stop the cheeky smile that turns your cheeks to swollen cherubs, your free hand still instinctively reaches out and lightly swats his chest. 

“Just checking!” Harry uses this to his advantage, wrapping his expansive palm atop your own.

“He was my boyfriend.” You chide as a matter of fact. 

“Hey, I get it.” He shrugs goofily, guiding your linked hands to rest atop his lap, “I would have felt the same way if-”

“If you were my boyfriend?”

“Precisely.” He nods cutely but his tone is that of praise. And the way he eyes you, lips supple and slightly parted. 

For a split second you wonder if he likes what he sees, and you’ve never been more grateful that Harry doesn't allow you too long to ponder when he trails off, 

“Wouldn’t have hit anyone…”

“Just sulk about in a corner instead?” You tease sweetly.

“Tried and true.” He smiles smugly. 

“You’re so predictable.” 

Harry playfully scoffs, leaning into you and practically blinding you with the silly smile he sends your way. You peer up at him, and Harry is instantly reminded of the simplicity of your impact on his head and stomach- your beauty effortlessly a siren song sent straight to his heart.

Nothing new here, though. Harry has seen you more times than countable but cannot fathom how you manage to make it feel like the first time- every time. It takes him back, it lurches him forward- what is this, what could it have been, could it still be? 

He removes his hand from atop your own- it’s important to note how much this surprises you both- when you make no attempt to remove it from his meaty thigh, and, man, Harry can feel just how soft you are- he’s hot at the thought of how good it would feel to have his cock cradled in your palm- and as for your needle-like nails absentmindedly digging into his neck, 

Harry’s lightheaded at the thought of you leaving harsh reddish scratches down his back, the idea of making you feel so good that you cannot help but ravish him completely. He’s almost certain that you’d be a biter, he wouldnt mind terribly if you decorated him in little bruises. He’s about willing to do anything to have your marks on him- wants to feel his shorts swell whenever he catches a glimpse of your fading loveletters.

It’s not hard to see that Harry’s thoughts are a mile a minute, his eyes darting across your face- unsure of where to settle. You know he wants to say something-  perhaps batting your lashes oh so sweetly will encourage him. 

It does. He’s drowning in your desire-oozing eyes as they become more and more devoid of colour, his own gaze holds on for dear life as he reclaims his confidence, 

“I would have been a good boyfriend… To you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You risk it and slip your fingers into soft chocolate curls at the base of his neck, tugging and twirling.

“Would’ve bought you flowers and chocolates- oh, and cheap teddies.” His chest is nearing your own,  “Burned a CD of songs that reminded me of you,” His spare hand reaches out, twirling a finger through a loose strand of your hair, “Taken you on picnics and baked your favourite pastries...”

“How very high school of you.” You manage to tease through the sudden suffocating and tightening of your throat, stomach clenching and cheeks threatening to swell with sappy cheeriness. 

Harry only hums sweetly, his finger brushing against your jaw in a bid for your affection,

“I’d be even better now.”

“Thought about this before, have you?”

“Once or twice.” He shrugs, and your stomach is a swarm of sensual butterflies. 

“Don’t think I’m about to humour you.” 

Though your hand has somehow hiked its way up to his mid-thigh, your undying stubbornness is far from extinct and may be the only thing holding your sanity together as of current, and now you’re not sure if it’s Harry or yourself luring your body closer to his own.

“Not even a little?” He pries with a darling pout, his hand reaching out and wrapping around your waist, palm splayed flat against your lower back. 

“It never leads to anything good.” 

“Kissing me isn’t good?” Harry lures, hoping to lead you into some sort of feisty discourse.

Your gaze is fixed on anything but his own, even so, you already know that his lips are curved into a cheeky pout, forehead crinkling with faux-concern. 

But in true betrayal, your newly-freed hand has trailed its way along his stomach, dragging slowly and settling atop his shoulder, fingers linking into a necklace clasp at the back of his neck,

“Stop throwing bones, Styles.” An eye roll. “You already know how I feel.” 

 “Still nice to hear.” His whole body shrugs, gaze piercing your direction, especially at your refusal to look back at him. He wants- needs- to see you better. “You never answered my question.”

Finally, with frustration, your stare snaps back to his own and stuns Harry once more with how seductive and alluring you are, and unintentionally at that. Ensuring his attention is all yours, but praying he doesn’t find out how much you mean it, 

“You’re a good kisser, Harry.” 

“Such a sweet girl…” Both of his arms are now snaking around your figure, fingers softly pressing into your flesh, hopefully pulling you nearer with his words, “But that wasn’t the question I was talking about.”

“What, then?”

“Ask me nicely.” He taunts, but you only threaten to remove your hold on him altogether. Instead, his hold only tightens, legs spreading and slotting your body in between.

“I said I won't humour you.” You let him keep you for his own. 

“Brat.” Harry concedes with cheeky fondness, his heart filling with copious amounts of adoration for the ridiculous stubbornness that stirs you into his version of the perfect partner. 

But it only makes him desire your lips with almost too much fervour to maintain composure, and he simplifies, 

“Is someone gonna try to punch me?”

Your body is bouncing with bewildered laughter at Harry’s insinuation

“Well…” Your toes leave the ground, chin tilting and lips plumpening with each word, “Are you gonna try to kiss me again?”

“If I said I was?” Harry’s head dips, his mouth ready to take your own. 

“Can you take a punch?”

“For you?” He speaks with such certainty, “I’ll take a thousand.”

“Then, I think you should risk it.”

The distance is dissipating with thick desire, Harry’s palm has found its place wrapped along your jaw, his thumb stroking at your cheek as he leans in and submits completely. 

His eyes are involuntarily closing- lashes fluttering with the same ferocity as those of the butterflies in his stomach- and Harry can feel himself slipping further into the intimate bubble of your energy, demanding his lips find their home along the crevices of your skin. 

Your legs will hurt later, but your impatience wishes for him to meet you sooner, annoyingly desperate for the frighteningly familiar feeling of his soft kisses scattering along your skin. Right now, if Harry were to ask, you would do anything for him- to him. 

With a cute huff, you carefully tug his neck closer, foreheads brushing, noses colliding, his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth. Harry chuckles softly and- 

“Harry?” The call is coming from inside the house! 

“Y/n?” Dear god, there are two of them. 

“Where are you?” The voices are getting closer. 

Harry’s never seen someone move so quickly- hardly blinking twice before you had both released him and slipped your way out of his grasp- and if it weren’t for his shared panic of being caught in a rather telling situation, Harry would have taken a second to mourn instead of brashly clearing his throat and calling out, 

“In the kitchen!” 

🍷

That little incident back there has left you blood boiling like a lobster in a steel pot, but you can’t shake off the obscene thoughts battling with those of swimming, and you’re in an almost haze by the time you finally reach the pools edge. 

And you’ve never been so grateful for the icy shock of water enveloping your ankles, then calves, and then your whole lower body sinks below the surface and life just about makes sense again. Chasing this feeling, you let yourself become fully submerged, limbs gracefully kicking and bobbing, hair fanned out like an halo, a second of serenity. 

Who knows how long you revel in the water, gliding back-and-forth along the pools length until it feels like you’ve never touched land before. It’s only when your face reemerges and Savina’s figure comes into view that you even consider returning to reality. 

Her upper body is dry and resting against the wall of the pool, large circular-framed sunglasses shading most of her face, straight mousy-brown hair pulled back and up with a claw clip. 

She’s just so self-assured- exudes coyness with unbridled confidence and certainty. How do the people around you have the such a power for certainty? Where is the doubt? 

Swimming the short distance to her poised figure, a smile creeping along her heart-shaped lips, Savina waits for you to near, your body wading in the tiny water waves, before letting you in on her latest idea, 

“I think we should hire out a catamaran.”

“Aren’t you scared of boats?”

“Only the little ones.” She dismisses.

“Well, I’m not a fan of boats. Any types.”

Savina looks at you like you’ve become a stranger and you already know the next thing she utters will be laced with confusion,

“Why do you do so many water activities, then?”

There are dozens of stories revolving you and the water- many are of disastrous incidents and oft resulted in some form of injury- but it must be firmly noted that every single activity involved the dangerous duo that is Jack and Harry. 

“I can’t say no when people ask me.” 

The troublesome two who have mastered the art of convincing you into almost everything- even if, on occasion, you find yourself greatful for their persistence, that information is privy to you and you alone. What you will say is,

“One of these days it’ll be the death of me.”

You glide towards the pools edge, using your arms to hoist the rest of your body out until you’re sitting atop the warm tiles, legs dipping back into the refreshing water. Savina follows suit, gracefully plopping down beside you. She rests her glasses atop her head and her brown eyes glow golden beneath the cloudless sky as she asks, 

“So, what day should we book for?” 

“Wednesday?” 

“Perfect! We’ll visit the coastal towns, try out that Posillipo I mentioned at the, what was the-”

“August Clambake.” You finish for her, eyes rolling at the memory. 

You share a reminiscent stare before scoffing and with synchronicity, reciting, “The clambake with no clams!” 

“These ones will blow your mind!” She reassures. 

“I’m sold. It’s a date!”

Not a moment later the shadow of a six-foot man casts over your crisping skin,

“A date?” Harry gasps dramatically, walking into view, “Y/n, are you two-timing me?”

“You haven’t set a date.” Your head tilts up to scold him eye-to-eye but the first thing you see is his thick thighs practically squeezing the yellow material of the tiniest of swim trunks hanging low on his hips. 

He’s still strumming up a retort, and you have to peel your gaze away from the muscular divots of his hip bones- and how his unintentional flexes are fastly stirring a deep desire within- when Savina becomes a surprising saving grace, 

“We’re taking a catamaran to see the island.” She informs. Problem solves. For a beat, before she pulls a classic Savina and enthusiastically suggests, “Come with us. You and Jack!”

“Savina.” You hiss between clenched teeth. 

“We’d love to!” He’s all too enthusiastic and you hold back a scoff.

“How does Wednesday sound?”

“Wednesday it is.”

Once again, you are victim to a group consensus that would be harder to argue against than to just cave in and follow along. That’s a problem for Wednesday’s Y/n, though. Today’s problem is still towering over you, cruelly blocking the sun. 

And when you need her most, Savina checks her watch and hops up, 

“I better get ready for lunch with Jeff.” This is news to both you and Harry and Savina must notice when she adds, “One last gossip session before he leaves.” 

What the hell are those two talking about at these lunches? You’re almost certain that it mostly surrounds this bizarre dynamic between the two of you. Is it that confusing that people on the outside have noticed? 

The thought is enough to make you sick, stomach twisting from a cocktail of fear from drawing attention to yourself and the still present arousal that started the moment you walked into the kitchen and were met with Harry. 

 If anyone asked Harry himself, he would say that this day has been more than enjoyable, in fact, his excitement is through the roof at the subtle validation he receives at the idea that maybe the approval of outsiders may soothe your constant doubts- give you permission to take a chance with him. 

What he wants to say is ‘you can see this undeniable chemistry, cant you? I’m not making things up, right?’ but refrains and says,

“I hope you have nice things to say about me.” 

“Darling, we always do.” 

Savina sends the least subtle of winks your way and bids her goodbye’s. Harry wastes no time in taking two large strides towards the pools edge, raising his arms to the sky, arching his sculpture-like body, his back muscles contorting and you know exactly where this is going. 

Just as his feet are about to turn into a bouncy spring aimed for the water, you hurriedly yell out to Harry,

“Don’t splash-” But it’s no use- he’s in the air, a breaching dolphin landing in the water, followed by a large splash that sprinkles your almost fully dried skin with cold droplets. You squeal out, and when Harry finally resubmerges, face slick with water and a sly smile, all you can muster is a simple, “I hate you.”

“Do you though?” He wonders, paddling along the waters surface.  

“Loathe.”

“Go on.” He treads closer before standing up, water bumping the skin of his waist down. 

“Detest.”

“Mm?” Harry closes the gap between your bodies, his glistening chest bumps against your knees like boats in the docks.

“Despise.” 

He shifts to stand to your left, leaning his back on the pools edge, his elbow perched just inches from the bare expanse of your thigh, and his free hand settles just above your knee, fingers faintly tapping rhythmically,

“You’re so hot when you turn me into adjectives.” 

“Pesty, irritating, frustrating, antagonistic bastard.”

Harry’s hand encloses over your thigh and squeezes in tune with an sarcastic- erotic- groan, 

“Stop or I’ll bust.”

The insinuation shatters all self control and your body shudders under his hold and his stare. There’s that familiar ache of neediness- neediness for Harry’s hands to do more- for him to do something to finally rectify that disastrous encounter in the kitchen. 

Harry isnt making any further steps, but he’s well aware of the way your body seems to tense with anticipation under his touch- the same as it does whenever he’s has you cornered- and he wishes you would say it aloud. 

It seems on the tip of your tongue, lips weakly parted, trying your hardest to find the least pathetic way to tell Harry to just fucking have at it. 

But ego runs deep. So deep that you gently shrug off his hand and swiftly stand up, body coming to attention as an automated response slips from your lips, 

“You are the worst!”

He’s laughing and your lower body shudders. Now you cant tell if your bikini bottoms are soaked from the swimming pool. As unlikely as the chances that Harry isn’t shamelessly staring at the way your ass gracefully bounces with each stroppy step you take towards the sunbed. 

🍷

In all fairness, Harry had started it. And then he re-started it. And now, he definitely hasn’t stopped as he strode past the sunbed you occupied, teeny tiny trunks fully drenched- streams of water descending his thighs as he purposefully picks the sunbed furthest from your own and practically throws his body atop the rolled out beach-towel. 

You were pushing it- and it was obvious- but you’ve been teased with the littlest of tastes all day and you are just salivating for more.

Its impossible for any thoughts to remain innocent- each move he makes is as tantalizing as it is taunting- he doesnt even seem to know it. Just looking so relaxed and unbothered, as if your presence means nothing. As if you’re the only one about to explode from pure sexual frustration. 

It’s infuriating, and mortifying, and only adds to the shameful arousal you cannot shake off. It’s all consuming- he is all consuming. 

And when Harry obnoxiously stretches for a third time, you fugue into a complete frenzy- eyelids hooded and hungrily watching the muscles of his flexed arms, his ridiculously tiny swim trunks slipping lower, creating the sultriest of trails from his stomach to his hipbones for your gaze to happily follow. 

No longer willing to hide behind the most adorable of pastel pink heart-shaped sunglasses, you’re a roast on a spit and if Harry won’t take the hint and bite, it’s time to catch a hint.

Harry’s pretty features are hiding behind an aged-denim baseball cap, one arm flexed behind his head as a makeshift pillow. This has you wondering if he’s even awake and that’s the final push you needed to get up and stealthily stroll over to his sunbed. 

Bending down and leaning your body over his own, your bikini-clad breast brush against his chest as you reach across him for a book you couldn’t even currently recall the title of- resting next to his half-empty lemonade on the side table. 

“You’re kidding.” Harry mumbles through the material.

“What?” You feign innocence, pressing further into him, waist coming down on his stomach.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” He torts but lets you continue with your teasing.

“Getting my book?” You ponder, taking much longer than necessary, letting your fingers dance along the cover, tilting down and further sticking your sun-kissed skin to his own.

Harry removes his flexed arm from its position as a pillow, using his thumb to hook under and remove the cap from hiding his face. He looks at you with a stern furrow of the brows, but his eyes are nothing but amused, and egregiously aroused,

“You’re a little liar.”

With ease, he wraps his arms around your waist, giving you a good squeeze as he flips you over, causing you to snatch a hold of the novel just as you find yourself bent and folded over his lap, ass up in the air, your chest resting against his thighs.

“What the-”

Now Harry has you, and you feel silly for thinking you could have ever gotten away with being so clueless, banking on the falseness of his lack of interest in your presence. He had lured you right in leaving you lying across him, completely at his will.

Not that you would want to be anywhere else, but you can’t help the embarrassment stirring at your stomach, ringing in your ears, you hope Harry doesn’t notice, and it seems he is far more focused on the sultriness of your arched back, your bikini bottoms becoming a frame for the ass cheeks that Harry quickly deems an artwork.

His fingers glide along the curve of your spine, satisfied with the shiver that shakes your body beneath his touch,

“You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?” He notes, letting his hands continue to trail along your curves. 

He ponders for a moment, watching for each reaction you might let slip, hyper-focused on your shaky breaths, the rise and fall of your breasts against his legs. He needs more though- needs to hear you,

“I think it’s time you’re punished for all of this brattiness.”                                           

“I’m not a brat.” You huff defensively for no reason but to protect your pride, still stuck and at his will.

“But you act like one.” He tuts factually, his hands gliding along your lower back before his palms finally settle on your ass cheeks, giving you the softest of pats.

You can’t admit such just yet, it was clear you were behaving like a true brat, but your words would be the last thing that would confirm that. Instead, you start to let the book slip and attempt to let it drop with little care,

“That’s the same-”

Harry refuses to let you finish, his tone dripping with discipline, his hands squeezing at your skin to ensure to cut you off and keep you focused on his filthy intentions,

“Read your book. Must be interesting if you were willing to go to such great lengths to retrieve it.” He is keeping you hooked like an floundering fish, baiting you with the promise of leaving little red marks along your pillowing bum cheeks.

Your lips part with the desire of protest, letting the book loosen in your hand, waiting for it to finally part from your palms. But Harry is watching like a hawk- waiting for you to misbehave once more, knowing you far too well. Still, you rally all of the defiance you have to spare,

“I-”

“Read the book.”

He gently digs his nails into your skin, and you want to protest even harder, but his simple sternness is salivating and instead, you choose to repent for your sins, balancing on your elbows, sighing and reopening the page to your bookmark with zero intent in actually reading.

With satisfaction, Harry kneads at the mounds of your skin before suddenly lifting his palm and bringing it down against your cheek with a sweet slap.

Your neck tilts back against your will, and your grip on the book starts to slip once more, biting back a surprised sigh.

“Uh, uh.” He scolds, “Read, Y/n.” 

And you prop the book back up with embarrassing haste. 

“So bratty…” By this point, Harry speaks with astonishment.

You cannot resist scoffing at his statement, busy regaining the strength to snap back at his ridiculous demand, but his hand comes down against your cheeks with a sterner smack and you switch back to the pretence of reading in hopes of another spanking.

“Tell me about the plot.” He insists, enjoying his little power trip far too much, whilst shifting back to pinching and squeezing at your skin.

“You’re being ridicu-” You try but another harsh smack followed by the soothing rub of his palm over the blooming mark buries you in submission, “Fernando just showed up at Fermina’s house…”

“Tell me more.” 

“Then… I… I have no idea.” Your head bows with shameful admission. 

Harry seems more than satisfied, kneading and squeezing at your skin. He decides that your honesty earns you points, it would be cruel to deny you sympathy for such an important attribute. But he truly does know you too well, doubting your little relinquishment, and he needs reassurance,

“Gonna be a good girl from now on?”

He doesn’t expect you to nod along so quickly, never mind so avidly, and now, Harry is gripping onto your dips and curves for dear life. But he cannot stop the teasing that slips past the gap in his teeth,

“For who?”

You roll your eyes, well aware it goes unnoticed by him, but Harry can feel the way a huff causes your chest to rise and fall, his own starts to expand with a light chuckle. And said chest catches a sharp breath and keeps it there at the feeling of your body slumping against his own as you bravely say, 

“For you, Harry.”

To say Harry was elated would be an understatement- his whole body alight with the mere sight of your body slung across his lap, let alone the feeling of your soft flesh moulding like clay beneath his hold. 

He doesnt think he can get used to how pliant and responsive you become under his touch. If this is what happens when he pathetcially parades about hoping to attract a pretty girls attention, Harry doesn’t mind behaving like a peacock more often. 

“Now, what exactly were you expecting to happen with this… little act of yours, hm?” His hands squeeze at any available skin,  “Think you’d get away it?” His fingers glide dangerously close to your undeniably damp bottoms, “That I’d just pretend it was all just an innocent mistake?”

“It was a mistake-”

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Yes-”

The harsh crack of Harry’s hand colliding with you left cheek has your back arching, squeaking out a whine, toes curling all at once.                         

“Are you sure, Y/n?” 

“...No.”

Your head drops, cheek resting on his thigh as your body slumps in full submission, and, hell, Harry wishes you could see how wide his smile is at the sight. His hand circles soothing strokes atop the palm-sized pinkish mark starting to bloom- beyond satisfied with his brilliant work. 

“Was that so hard?” 

“No, sir.” 

You answer with a haste that takes Harry by such surprise that he feels all sense of superiority substitute itself with the fear that maybe you were right, maybe you’re more than he can handle. 

“Christ.” His chest is tight, heart racing, and he feels a harsh sugar drop, suddenly trapped beneath your supple figure- dominance is dissipating, Harry comes to the realisation that he is never in charge- not even when you feign submission. 

He fears the unfamiliarity of letting his partner take control. Being intimate is one area of his life that he can truly make decisions that he wont spend an eternity revisity and cruelly critiquing the outcome. This is a place where he can act freely and intuitively- all he’s ever known is a dynamic where his lovers follow suit. 

Why does he want to do this forever? Why is he already planning all the ways he can show you just how desperately he’s willing to become your personal plaything? 

You’ve grown impatient with the slowing of Harry’s actions- you may have sacrificed your stubbornness, but your pride surely wont have you slung across the lap of a man if he’s not at least making you squirm with pleasure. 

Harry can’t find the words as you slyly and swiftly escape from his hold. It seems like you’re about to make a break for it but when you only turn to face him and confidently sling your leg over his lap, he’s quick to shift for your ease, helping your body settle in his lap. 

Your arms snake up his arms, palms splaying out atop his shoulders. Harry’s hand are already trailing any part of you he hadnt previously had access to, starting with the curves of your waist, his cock twitching as his fingers rake along the waistband of your bikini and you shift excitedly. 

He squeezes at the creases where your pudge pushes against the restraint of the stringy swimwear straps, and Harry tauntingly twirls them around his fingers, threatening to dismantle the carefully-tied bows, 

“So flimsy, all it would take is one little tug...”

“And you’ll deeply regret it.”

You press your lower body further into his lap, biting back a satisfied sigh as his cock continues to stiffen, brushing those pesty swimwear along your progressively soaking slit. He needs to be closer- you need to ensure he is just as wrapped up in this all encompassing bubble of desire as yourself. 

“Why’s that, angel?” 

Harry tries to keep his voice steady as you press your breasts against his chest, the aroma of sunscreen, salty water, and sweet conditioner suddenly surrounding him, intoxicating his senses with a swift dose of dopamine. His body is sinking further into the sunbed as you start building a staircase of sloppy kisses towards the shell of his ear, 

“Because I’ll stop doing this.” You move back slightly- its obvious he wont let you get far- and your body mimics that of a person ready to run, “In fact, I’ll leave and take care of myself.”

And as mouth-watering as that visual is, Harry tugs you back into place- even closer- until his nose is brushing the curve of your collarbone, his hand gliding along your goosebump-riddled spine until it cups the back of your neck and in between timid kisses to your sternum, he tuts, 

“Well, we wouldnt want that, would we?”

Your head shakes in agreement, tilting down to get a better look at him beneath those unruly brunette curls. 

The moment his glossy lips leave your skin and he peers up at you through lust-driven eyes, you throw all snark, games, wit, and stubbornness to the wind. All you want is to suffocate him with your kiss. 

Maybe Harry really can read your mind because he tilts his chin, lips puckering in anticipation for your own, and how sweetly he lets your hand wrap around his jaw- lets your thumb flick his bottom lip, parting them so politely as your finger slips into his mouth and he selaciously sucks on it. 

Your thumb is barely out of his mouth when your teeth latch onto his bottom lip, giving it a gentle tug before your tongue slips past and seeks out his own. 

Harry kisses you back like it’s life or death, lips slipping, exploring, and when you capture his tongue and suck it between your slick mouth, he wants desperately for you to soothe his aching cock however you see fit. 

Your kisses have strayed to the curve where his jaw and ear meet, sloppily trailing down his simmering skin, taking a little nibble of the creamy crook of his neck- which earns a surprised yelp from Harry, 

“G’na show me how good you can be?” 

“Ask me nicely.” 

He can’t muster anything more than a deep chuckle- turning to mush at the playful streak peaking through your lustrous stare. Harry, unlike yourself, doesn’t mind a little grovelling- in fact, he thinks he’s made that more than clear. 

His voice turns as tender as his touch, sincerity seeping through the thick layers of his arousal as he lets his lips graze your ear,

“Please, Y/n.” 

That feels good to hear. Criminally good. Like, the type of good that has you missing this exact moment while it’s still happening. 

It’s as if he’s uttered the secret password and it’s your duty to ensure his success doesn't go to waste. 

All remnants of Harry taking control are null and void the moment your hips rock along his own. Your clit brushes atop his throbbing cock- begging for release from this hellishly restrictive swim trunks- and with a sharp hiss snaking past your lips, Harry’s sure he’s about to cut off all blood circulation. 

He decides to be the most helpful boy he can be, cradling your ass cheeks, letting your hips guide them wherever you pleased. With deliberate and curious swirls, you hold back little mewls each time his cock brushes along your throbbing and increasingly damp pussy. 

Your hands cant decide where to graps as they switch between pressing into his lower abdomen, trailing along his forearms, one hand wrapping along his neck while the other impatiently tugs at his chin, tilting his mouth to latch onto your own. 

Harry doesnt hide the pleasure pulsing through him with every touch and hitch of your breath, gliding his tongue along your lower lip and with a subtle thrust, he coaxes a hushed sigh from you, taking the chance to slip his tongue past your teeth, lapping at your mouth with such lewdness that your hips rock on their own accord. 

Less calculated, more explorative, swirling left to right, up and down atop his full length, testing what feels good, what makes his body twitch and whine with approval. 

It’s hard to focus, Harry’s pressing into whatever part of you he can reach, holding onto your hips as if he feared you might evaporate into another silly fantasy, hoping his little moans of satisfaction express how desperately he wants you. 

You’ve never heard something as beautiful as Harry’s moans- they haunt your dreams and often coax your hands into your panties on lonely evenings. Raising slightly, your right hand reaches back and strokes along his thick length and Harry’s hands needily glides up and harshly cups your breast. 

He’s tauntingly tugging at the flimsy material, perversely tugging it to the side to reveal your pebbled nipple and his teeth are around the perky bud before you can say something about the dangers of getting caught. 

In honesty, you’re not thinking about that at all- it only stirs fiercely at your lower belly, pulsating with filthy excitement. Your hand wraps around his neck, pressing him further into your chest as his free hand cups and kneads at your other breast. 

Thighs working harder than most days, you try to keep a consistent pace, needily chasing a high, searching for that sweet spot, and Harry wants nothing more than to assist. 

His hands retreat to your ass, one raising you slightly as his other adjusts his cock to line up with your dripping entrance. You’ve soaked through your swimwear- so slick that Harry can feel his swollen tip dampening at the contact. 

He’s pushing  up into you, and there’s something so lewd about fucking you through your swimwear that has the two of you feeling more feral than ever before. So good that the world around you is still, nobody else exists, and the only thing you care about is being so close to Harry’s cock pushing past your entrance. 

It’s teamwork when you hastily stand and turn around, seating your drippy pussy right atop his length. Harry guides your body back and forth, releasing a gravelly groan when your thighs tighten and generously knead his balls, hand reaching between the two of you as your hands press and stroke the expanse of his cock, from tip to taint. 

Huffing out each time he brushes against your throbbing bud, the need to have him closer is overwhelming. And the way his hips are starting to jut impatiently, you might not be the only one. His hips are bucking up into you, possessively searching for your pussy.

Harry does needs more, needs to see those erotic visuals of your pleasure-soaked face that have plagued his mind for the last three months,  

“C’mere pretty girl.” 

He has you facing him again, pinning him to the chair, arching your hips to up so that each grind targets his tip and aims for your slit, triggering a new current of euphoria to send shockwaves up your spine. 

Maybe he’s stopped thinking completely because Harry reaches out for the top of your bikini, using one hand to spread the material apart until they are framing your bare breasts like an artwork- which, Harry deems they certainly are. 

He’s squeezing at you, nipping and nibbling, and your nails are piercing into his shoulders, holding on for dear life. When Harry sinks his teeth down onto the supple skin of your throat, harshly sucking as your thighs clench around his at the sudden and arousing sting.

His tongue lovingly licks at and soothes the soon-to-bloom bruise. You know he’s marking you to prove a point, and it shouldnt have you reeling with such excitement at the thought of being his, enough to break your silence, 

“Fuck, Harry.” 

“Feel good, sweetheart?” His name has never sounded so special.

“So fucking good.” You pant, pushing yourself down onto him with ferocity. 

And Harry couldn't predict that you would shuffle back, hook your fingers into the band of his shorts and free his cock from its cruel confinement. Only just past the tip is visible and the harsh sting of the cool air is quickly replaced by the warmth of your pussy. One layer separating him from the tight embrace of your hole. 

Your breasts are still in line with Harry’s face, one of his hands still lazily squeezing while the other slides down your torso, tickles at your ribcage before abrasively cupping your pussy and he’s grunting out, “So, so wet.” 

Your head lulls back at the obvious observation, and the desperate need to coat his length until he’s just as soaked has got your eyes rolling in ecstasy. 

Harry heinously loops his finger into the side of your swimwear, tugging it to the side and whining out, “My God” at the sight of your bare pussy, slick and begging to be fucked hard and proper. 

You’re pressing down on him before he can truly marvel at how puffy and pretty you are when riled up, but as your torso arches back, breasts searching for the sky, hand digging into his stomach for balance, Harry gets a view so tasty, there is actual drool pooling at the corner of his lip. 

The tip of his cock is disapearring between the folds of your pussy, instantly soaked and twitching from sensitivity, you’re bucking at a rapid pase, synchronising your bursts of pleasure. Harry knows this will be a core memory, something that will project across the lids of his shut eyes every single night for eternity. 

His hips are thrusting up to meet your own with soft slaps, all-encompassing pleasure twisting at his lower abdomen, building and peaking, and then you mewl out the most salacious of sounds- a wordless plea to help push you over the edge, and Harry is jutting with haste, wrapping his arms around your back, guiding your body atop his until the orgasm you’ve desired so deeply starts to reach its peak, and you’re urgently, desperately using Harry’s cock. 

You gazes lock- eyes blackened, lids hooded- and you utter out the sweetest and softest of pleas, “Wanna come.” 

Harry’s nodding avidly, holding you tighter, pressing you nearer, bucking his cock up into the folds of your pulsating pussy, each time his tip slip and brushes your entrance, he knows he wont last longer. All he can do is honestly ask of you, 

“Please.” He’s smothering you neck in kisses, “Please come for me.” 

That does it. You don’t care about Harry witnessing the pronographic whine that follows- you don’t care who hears or sees, all you care about is the earth-shattering pleasure swallowing you whole, your body crumbling, struggling to keep up your movements as your orgasm takes over completely, grabbing at his arms, his back, his torso. 

Harry’s stare is frozen as you start to unravel above him, but his hips are working overtime, pumping himself against your pussy and your chest is humming in tune. 

Sloppily, one hand raises to tenderly cup his cheek and you latch your lips to his in a sensual, slow tongue-tango. The unfamiliar feelings of affection fusing with arousal is the final straw for Harry. 

There’s no time to vocalise anything before he’s pushed completely over the edge and can only manage a filthy moan that vibrates against your lips as Harry comes undone and his thrusts turn uneven before his cock is spurting thick pleasure between the folds of your pussy. 

Your bodies slow down to a halt and you can no longer hold yourself up, collapsing atop Harry’s chest as he works to even his breathing. Both of you are surely sticky messes, and reality is rapidly returning. 

It’s only now that either of you glance around to see if anyone may have noticed, and though shame is sure to follow, that can only happen once you separate your sweaty, lethargic bodies. 

You let the moment linger a while longer before regretfully loosening your hold and peeling your skin from his own. When Harry whines out disapprovingly, you almost crawl right back into position, but that will be the start of round two. You need time to process round one. 

Harry puts up little fight, though every part of his living being wishes to have you cradled in his arms, cuddling up against his tired torso, instead pulling his trunks back up to hide his cock, he shifts and takes in the magnificent of views- you stand and gather your book, eyes glazed-over, cheeks flushed and chest unevenly heaving. 

“So you can be a good girl.”  

“So you can be something other than annoying.” 

Harry’s already thinking about the next time, and the next. But your thoughts are swiftly veering towards uncertainty and the excuse for a shower is the only thing keeping you from passing out right in front of him. 

“I can be anything you want, Y/n.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You definitely will. 

Harry acts completely unbothered when he returns his body to the position that started this entire encounter, retrieves his hat and settles in for what seems like a nap. Relaxed son of a bitch. Why isn’t it rubbing off on you? 

“I hope you do.” Harry hums from beneath the cap and all you can do is wander away from him and into the house in a complete daze. 

🍷

Dinner with Savina is, at best, depressing. Fork aimlessly stabbing at the same piece of lettuce, you clearly aren’t on this planet anymore. 

Dazed, avoiding the air around you as if it might trigger another feral response. Worst of all- you’re ashamed of how shameless you still feel in Harry’s wake.  

Savina has been eyeing you from across the table for well over ten minutes before that ghostly look on your face becomes too much to tolerate, 

“Why do you look like you just witnessed someone being ejected from a vehicle?” 

She’s squinting suspiciously when you briefly glance up at her with sheer mortification,

“That’s awful.”

“You’re acting like something awful did happen.” She defends, and you cave in an instant, quickly mumbling some type of explanation that has Savina asking, “What’s that?”

“He spanked me.”

Silence thickened with surprise settles between the two of you. In defeat, you put down the fork and settle back in the handcrafted dining chair and pout at Savina, clueless of how to process this information on your own. 

Her forehead and bushy brows are raised, her own meal discarded at this sizzling new development. But she’s observing the way your features morph from mortified to confused to sheer helplessness, and Savina will get to the bottom of this,

“And this is the face of someone who enjoyed it far more than they care to admit?”

“This is the face of someone who enjoyed it.” You sigh out. 

It’s just getting weirder, Savina finally concedes that you weren’t exaggerating when you expressed how confusing the dynamic you and Harry share truly is. Savina doesn’t know where to start,

“That’s… messed up, Y/n.”  

Then she tries the ‘positive reinforcement’ tactic, “Harry seems-”

“Don’t say his name.” You shush. 

“You’re so dramatic!”

“Yes!” Your hands flail wildly, “And he’s driving me crazy!”

Savina finds this all-too amusing, returning to her food and reveling in this obscure situation she is so grateful to witness first-hand, she hums provokingly,

“Ugh. I want a summer love.”

“We’re too old for this.” 

You’re trying to remind yourself of this- of any possible reason to prove the impossibility of getting closer to Harry. The only things currently going for you is memories of the past, and even those are being muddled by new perspectives. It’s nauseating. 

In a cheeky conclusion, Savina only coos out a request for one last thing,

“Please, let me live vicariously.” 

🍷

Déjà fuckin vu. 

A new day and… why is Harry here? He’s splayed out on that sunbed again, and you won’t be caught falling for it this time… regardless of how the sun casts sultry shadows along his torso, highlighting the divots of his stomach muscles… 

You hasten the drying process, roughly rubbing the towel along any damp skin- eyes trained carefully on his still and shining body.

But, you can’t help yourself from at least letting him know that you are well aware of his tactics, he must understand that you are nowhere near as easily tempted as you were before- that a lapse in judgement had lured you straight into his lap. (How many lapses can one’s judgement have before you have to admit it wasn’t a mistake?) 

Your softened feet pad along the warm tiles until they stop just before Harry’s resting figure. His ray bans hide any sign of consciousness, but it’s obvious that he’s already hyper-aware of your every move. 

You steal a couple of glances for your personal ‘before bed’montage, which by now consists mostly of visuals of Harry just, being Harry. 

It certainly helps to daydream about him warming beneath the rays, golden skin glistening, arms and torso taught and littered with all those tattoos and freckles, flexing just for you. 

Your figure hovers over him like a cloud and Harry is quick to tilt his sunglasses, balancing them on the bridge of his nose as his amuse-soaked gaze is peering up at you through wispy lashes. 

He waits on you, knowing that this is the second step in his trap. And how easily he seems to have coaxed you into it once more. He’s prepared to be chewed out, and his stomach twists in delight at the thought. 

And how simply you exacerbate his excitement when your arms come to rest across the curves of your underboob, brows furrowing and fresh-berry lips pursing to firmly inform Harry that,

“Try all you want, it won't work this time.”

“I wasn't trying last time.” He shrugs smugly. 

“... Well it won’t work today.”

Harry shifts himself to an upright position, his large palm lazily sliding the shades from his face, as he plans to ensure you get the perfect view of him. 

He feels like a teenager, attempting to convince you of his attractiveness, but there’s an underlying giddiness that always follows and he prays you feel it too. Even if he could resist teasing, the silly scrunch of your nose and squinted searing gaze guarantees he won’t stop.

“Spiralling again, sweetheart?”

“After interacting with you? Always.” You scoff and Harry’s skin melts under your glare. 

“Why does that turn me on?” He whines tauntingly.

“Dont ask me, I rarely understand you.”

Harry almost laughs aloud and with each passing second, the ache to shamelessly rake your stare along his limbs becomes a challenge not to succumb to his will. Yet you cannot possess yourself to walk away just yet. 

So you keep your eyes fixed on his own, watching as playfulness and enticement colour his eyes in hues of deep green, desperate for his next words to be enough to dismiss you from dangerously slinking back onto his lap. 

It’s like Harry has figured out that he occupies a space in your head. Like he’s weaselled his way in there and anticipates your every thought- your every move. 

Why else would his next move be to slightly part his legs, like a damn invitation, juicy thighs begging for a bite? His elbow presses into his thigh, balancing his chin atop his hand as he watches you like it’s his only reason for living, choosing his next words carefully, 

“I don't believe that. I think you understand me just fine.”

“Whatever. I need to head inside before I burn.” If that were true, it wouldn’t be from the sun's rays, but the desperate desire to fuck him senseless.

“Ever the cautious little one.” He coos through the fondest of grins.

You muster the will to take a step back, and then another, shrugging knowingly at laxness,

“Take that up with the sun, Harry. Put some sunscreen on while you’re at it.”

One final glance and you turn on your heels, heading for the sliding doors as Harry’s boastful voice sings out, 

“Not necessary, but thank you for being such a doll.” 

“Don’t come crying to me.” You hum contently, proud of how well you had resisted his charm, but body still pining for his hold.

🍷

Sunset painted the blue skies with pastel candyfloss peach and pink, clouds casting the trees into shadows, and with the most idealistic view of the orange-streaked ocean visible from your balcony, allowing the last soft rays to cast the villa in warmth, lulling you into a cosy daze in front of the tv, legs splayed out on the sofa, eyes slipping in and out of focus. 

Everything slowly melts into euphoria, the dialogue on screen turns to muffles, waves kissing the shore, and you can’t recall the last time things felt so easy- so still. 

But your departure from consciousness is cruelly interrupted by the thudding of a fist against the front door. Whoever knocks has hasty determination as they hardly pause before tapping the hardwood again. 

All remnants of a possible nap were gone with the setting sun and your bare feet were padding along the cool linoleum without thought, heading towards the persistent knocking with a desperate desire for it to just stop. 

It must be Savina, and she must have left her keys behind again, and if that’s the case, she’s about to receive a mouthful and a half. You’ve already sucked in a scolding breath whilst unlocking and opening the door, only to be met with the surprising sight of a very flustered and very red-faced Harry, frowning brow matching his pretty puckered pout. 

All you can do is exhale and before the giggles can even register to bubble, he’s taking a desperate step forward, pointing his finger and warning,  

“Do not laugh.”

You can’t even, staring back at him in utter shock, scanning the unbelievable redness of his skin, 

“Oh, dear God.”

Harry’s shamefully tilts his head, rosy arms folding atop his chest as he bashfully peers up at you through puffy lashes, 

“Help me.” 

Without hesitation, your body steps aside to welcome him, watching as he pitifully slinks past, discarding his slides, and making great effort to avoid garnering your attention. 

Shutting the door, latching the lock, and giving Harry one more look over before beginning to walk past his sulking stature, you make for the bathroom. Certain that he’s trailing closely behind, you allow a good laugh to slip, shaking your head with incredulity, 

“What did I tell you?”

You can hear him change directions as his feet squeak and shuffle away from the kitchen in pursuit of your recently occupied spot on the sofa. 

All you can do is embrace an eye-roll whilst wandering toward the bathroom and locating your trusted tube of after-sun before heading towards Harry’s now resting body, slumped far too comfortably into the cushions. You mutter,

“Make yourself at home.”

Something resembling a glimmer of hope flashes across his features, followed by a grimace of further flaring his skin as you hold out the half-used tube of eucalyptus, patiently waiting for him to accept the offer. 

He wants to hold your hand and wishes you would linger a moment longer so he could revel in this foreign feeling of appearing before you in such a ‘weakened’ state. Instead, all he can think of is the need to complain choking at his chest,

“Feel like Satan put my face between his ass cheeks.” 

“You look it.” 

“Everything hurts.” He whines.

“I’m sure.” You concur with a cheeky lilt. 

Your gaze hasn’t wavered from his face, and Harry wonders if you can see the shy blush mixing into his sunburn- would it be worse if you did? 

Luckily, there isn’t much that can deter your examination, no longer masking amusement as your features freely raise in awe at the sudden thought,

“How long did it take for you to notice?” 

He says everything by shamefully darting his gaze into the distance, and it would be cruel to deny you the right to laugh aloud- hand pressed to your forehead, chest bobbing with each chuckle- which he allows you for longer than you imagined before interjecting,

 “S’not funny!”

Harry knew he had to leave all pride on the welcome mat when he made the almost instant decision to ask for your help- especially since a sunburn could be dealt with on his own- but he was only and he sure feels a sting of humility. 

He scoots to the edge of the couch, returning his feet to the ground before leaning forward and balancing one arm atop his swim trunk-clad thigh. Harry wastes no time in uncapping the lid, smearing a large dollop into his palm, about to rub his hands together and presumably smother and lather his face.

A tiny part of you has faith that he’ll treat his skin with a tender touch, but he practically slaps his palms across his cheeks before transferring the cool gel and it becomes all to clear how rough he intends to be and you can’t stop yourself from a gasp of frenzied panic, 

“What are you doing?” You try to keep your tone from expressing how disturbed you are by the man on your sofa, especially when he peers up at you through a curiously innocent gaze,

“What?” He peers up at you with such pretty innocence. 

“You’re so aggressive. It hurts to watch.” 

Your lips form a pout to match his own, and if you weren’t so sure that Harry was only here, in your home, out of convenience, you might be swayed to believe that the small smile swallowing his pout was a result of your kindness.

He remains as still as a statue, too fearful of making another mistake that would surely result in another sigh of disappointment on your part. With his stare frozen and directed at your own, he makes it perfectly clear that he plans to make no moves without further instruction, seeking guidance by asking,

“What am I supposed to do?” 

“Give it here.” You offer him your hand and his own darts out to accept, forcing you to ignore how nice it feels to have him at your will. 

He seems to feel the same, at least from the soft smile threatening to dimple at his cheeks. With your free hand, you swipe your fingers along his palm and collect all remnants of lotion, edging forward and leaning your body over his own. 

With a lack of certainty, you release his hand and with the lightest of touches raise your palms to his face, left hand cupping at his jaw, confidently, but tenderly, tilting his chin to the ceiling.

Harry peers up at you through those charcoal spider leg lashes, curious to see you continue your mission, totally at your will- nothing new. He gratefully lets you guide his face wherever you feel need be, and he fights hard against allowing his eyes to flutter shut. 

And you do, gently spreading the gel along his forehead, creating little circular swirls along his skin, pretending that your palms don’t have a pulsating electric current, creating sharp sparks as they trail his soft, freckled skin. You worry that any further contact will cause your body to short-circuit, allowing all shyness to surface in blotches across your cheeks. 

Your featherlight touch only leaves Harry in desperate need of further comfort, almost instinctually pressing his forehead into your palm like a needy cat. 

If he’s getting a taste of what it’s like to be welcomed into your bubble, Harry wants to have another bite, and another, coating his skin in your sweet, sugary loves, hoping you won't ever let him go. 

But you do, swirling your ring finger along his forehead once more for good luck before sorrowfully releasing his face. Neither of you let your disappointment surface, instead sharing shy smiles as you lazily step back.

Harry’s gaze follows you, and even now as your head tilts to scan the room, the intensity of his focus is palpable, drumming the pulse beneath your own wrists, it feels like you’ve been cluelessly lured into a pressure cooker, slowly boiling you inside out. 

The only way to cool down is to return your attention to his own, eyes like magnets desperately seeking out their counterpart. And as the two of you glue your gazes with such ease, Harry would be amiss to tease,

“Who knew you had a soft side.”

“Don’t start.” 

You shut him down before his observation has the chance to further sink in, knowing that if he catches your sympathetic gaze for a moment longer, it would only reinforce how correct he was- and worse, how good it felt to love on him. 

No longer in contact with his skin, the feel of warmth refuses to let his touch leave, your fingertips burning like his face was past boiled. 

He sits idly, merely enjoying the soothing sensation tingling along his burns, swiftly sinking into the cushions, his heart swelling and full, and his head… which, now that he noticed, is throbbing in tune with his singing chest. 

Harry can’t avoid the sudden wince surging up his spine as he stupidly presses a palm to his forehead and reignites the burn, 

“Head still feels like a rave.” 

He’s cute- too cute for your heart to retreat into trepidation- and for a change, you bask in the fuzzy fondness, face and limbs all relaxing under the goofy gaze of his adorable helplessness. 

Once more, you disappear down the hallway, rummaging through a cabinet for painkillers. As reach your next destination- the kitchen- you retrieve a glass and call out, 

“How have you survived this long?” 

“Pure luck.” He thinks. 

Harry looks like he feels sorry for himself- the idea alone warms you with familiarity. You extend out your offering of meds and water and instruct him to, 

“Drink the whole glass.” 

He does, with enthusiastic haste, evoking an odd excitement at the sight of his enthusiastic submission. Attempting to rid this sensation, you subtly shake your head and walk over to the vacant spot on the sofa, plopping down with a soft thump.

Harry wipes away the trail of water dripping down the corner of his damp lips, turning to look at you with increasing admiration, 

“You’re an angel, I owe you.”

“Don’t you always?”

“Add it to my tab.”

This is surely the part where Harry gets up and says goodbye, but if anything, he seems more comfortable here than anywhere else. You’re watching him intently, attempting to anticipate his next move, praying he will leave you to pine on your lonesome. 

Instead, Harry slinks back into the cushions, shuffling himself until comfortable. It takes little to give up and give in to his company, taking the liberty to pull your legs and fold them to rest (), reaching out for the remote and unpausing the show Harry so woefully interrupted. 

He glances at you, and then the television, and then back to your still features, 

“What are we watching?” 

“Fleabag.”

“Seen it before?” 

“Plenty.”

Expecting Harry to sit quietly was extremely optimistic. He does try- really- but there’s just so much to digest! “Is that her sister?” He whispers. “What’s the deal with the statue?” Two minutes later, “Are they married or…?” 

“Let’s start over.” You make sure to groan dramatically, 

“You don’t have to-”

“Zip it, strawberry boy.” 

Confusion orbits his moony eyes, wondering if he missed out on something. You must notice because you simply shrug and casually elaborate,

“Y’look like one, with your pink cheeks and little freckles.”

Harry likes that. He really likes that. He’s still watching you- all lovesick- as your focus fixes on rewinding from the very final episode to the very first. 

As the intro starts, he tilts his head and seeks your attention,

“Y/n?” 

“Harry.”

“I always knew you had a soft side.” He teases knowingly. 

“Shush.”

It’s strange… why does it feel as peaceful with Harry by your side? Perhaps more than. But you’re not gonna think about that right now. Not while a sweet strawberry boy is sitting so near, looking cosier than ever, ready to embrace one of your favourite shows. That can wait until tomorrow.

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Let me know what you think! - Emmy. xo