#but i tried cos obvs

[isabellaofparma]

What would we be together? So much harm. Yeah. It's a mess. It's a mess. Couldn't work. It wouldn't, would it? No.

[socialjusticeace]

How tf did "decenter men" turn into "decenter ur mom"???????

istg every single stride to dismantle misogyny always turns into 'This is a woman's fault somehow' or 'stigmatize mental disorders more it'll stop men and get to the root of the problem this time i swear'

[pbaintthetb]

It hits Wuxian like a bullet to the brain, Jiang Cheng sneers when Wuxian says he thinks he might have an idea as to how to walk through the herd, and it just hits him. "You think I caused this, don't you?" His brother doesn't say anything, just wipes the viscera off his knife and scowls at the heavily barracade door. Heavily barracaded it may be, they both know it won't be enough. Not for long enough. The sneers, the looks, the- the everything. "I would never," Wei Wuxian insists hotly. Because sure, things had been bad, ruined- not ruined before the world had imploded itself, but they've taken a new turn. And Wei Wuxian doesn't want his brother to think him capable of this- doesn't want to belive his brother could believe him capable. Not really, not truly. But the evidence is here. He does. "What's the genius plan then?" Jiang Cheng asks, pushing forward, ignoring. Just ignoring. Never listening. Taking and- Not before, not when- "I wouldn't do this." Wei Wuxian reiterates. "And you have to know that." Maybe death is better than living when his brother thinks this of him. His brother's eyes sweep up and over, calculating and brimming with ice. "No, I know you never stick around to deal with your messes." Jiang Cheng sweeps out a hand, at the barricaded door, the starving mass outside, the weapons bedecking their person. For a brief hysteric moment Wei Wuxian can envision Jiang Cheng making the exact same gesture to Jin Ling to get him to clean up his room. Then the reality quickly rolls back in. And the relief. Because- "You-" "You just create them. And you never think about the consequences you create. And you mess with things you shouldn't." Jiang Cheng speaks over him, smile terrible and wide. "Don't worry, A-Xian, I know this isn't your mess, but that doesn't mean it isn't your fault."

when you have a fun idea but wwx would never explictly call JC out on his bullshit so. rip. so OOC for wwx alas

[artdcnaldson]

smutty patrick +art +reader request!!!! ->

smut where both patrick &y/n r dominant and are constantly competing against eachother with who makes art cum faster/moan louder LOL☺️☺️☺️ patrick is like a rougher dom and reader is softer and she keeps praising art while patrick IS SUCH A MEANIEEEEE but he also loves art too obv(and reader). UGH i love them

HEHEHEHE <3

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT!! Threesome ft. Dom!Patrick, Soft!Dom Reader, Sub!Art, handjob, blowjob, ruined orgasm

A/N: god tier request, truly. something possessed me when I wrote this

Art Donaldson had never looked prettier than he did in that moment. The thin sheen of sweat that made his skin glisten, the pretty flush that burned pink down to his chest.

His back was pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around him soothingly. It was the perfect angle to watch all the ways Patrick was torturing your sweet boy.

His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath— each exhale shuddery and rough. You pet his hair, brushing soft curls out of his eyes.

“How are you, baby?” You asked softly, teasingly. “Is Patrick being too mean?”

He shook his head, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as Patrick’s hand moved faster and faster. A strangled moan slipped past his lips, eyes squeezing shut as Patrick brought him closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m just doing what he asked,” Patrick said with a grin. The sounds of his hand was slick as it moved up and down on the blond’s cock.. “He wanted me to touch him, and I’m touching him.”

You pressed a soothing kiss to his jaw and grinned down at Patrick. The brunet was a co-conspirator in the agonizing, delicious torture you put Art’s poor body through. You were just nicer about it.

“Close,” Art whimpered, his lips spit slick and bitten pink. “I— fuck— I’m close”

Patrick smirked like the cat who got the cream, but you just ran a soothing hand over the plane of his chest, teasing his nipples, making him whine pitifully.

“Yeah, baby? You’re close, huh?” Your teeth tugged slightly at his earlobe and he moaned, loud and pretty. “Be polite and ask Patrick if you can cum.”

Patrick’s hand didn’t let up— slick and relentless. He raised an eyebrow expectantly and Art nearly sobbed.

“Please—“ was all Art could manage.

“Please, what, Donaldson? You’re a big boy, you know how to ask the right way.”

He groaned, shifting so he could squirm away from Patrick’s relentless touch. It was futile, though. Art was strong, but with your legs pinning his thighs and Patrick’s hand slung across the blond’s torso, all he could do was take it.

“Lemme cum— please let me cum,” he was practically begging, eyes shining with crocodile tears. It was so fucking cute. You wished your camera was nearby so you could’ve snapped a picture of how desperate he’d gotten.

Patrick met your gaze and smiled, like he’d just gotten the best fucking idea in the world. “Okay, baby,” he said in an unusually gentle voice. “You can cum.”

You could feel Art’s heart hammering against your palm, the surprise evident in his eyes.

“Hurry before Pat changes his mind, yeah?” You cooed in his ear. He nodded, face scrunched slightly as Patrick brought him closer and closer to finishing.

And god, Art could get loud. He had his tells here, just like in tennis. As soon as he went silent, you knew he was right on the precipice, ready to tumble over.

The second Art’s orgasm hit, Patrick moved his hand off of him completely. It was different than it usually was— Art was always messy. He’d shoot ropes of thick cum up to his chest, or his face if he was particularly backed up.

But then, he just whimpered pathetically as cum oozed out of his tip, leaving a puddle at the base of his cock. And— holy fuck— he stayed hard.

Art practically sobbed, his head lolling back against your shoulder. Tears of frustration welled in his pretty blue eyes. “What the fuck, Patrick?” He groaned pathetically.

“What the fuck did you do?” You asked with wide eyes.

Patrick sat back and shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin. “I saw someone do it in a porn. He got to cum, he just didn’t get the good part.”

“Switch spots,” you said quickly. Patrick let you settle between Art’s thighs, eye level with his aching cock. It was red at the tip, aching for a real release.

When you wrapped a hand around him, he whimpered and squirmed in an attempt to escape the stimulation.

“You good, baby?” You asked, pressing your lips to his thigh.

Before Art could respond, Patrick sighed. “Stop babying him— he’s fine.”

You met Art’s gaze, and he gave a tiny nod. His chest was heaving as he drew breath after shaky breath.

The mess of cum surrounding his base made each slick pass of your hand sound pornographic. Almost as debauched as the whimpers and moans that were escaping Art’s lips.

“Mmm… fuck, fuck— ah!” Like a goddamn pornstar.

“Shhh… let me clean up the mess Patrick made, yeah?”

You pressed a soft kiss to his tip, and his thighs twitched with the need to buck into the warmth of your lips. Your mouth trailed down, peppering the hard length of him with wet, slow kisses. You could taste his release, salty on your tongue.

“Jesus, baby— please—“ Art, desperate and wanting, was your favorite thing in the world. Besides maybe Patrick, desperate and wanting in a completely opposite way.

“Quit whining, Art, or she’s gonna stop.” Patrick murmured in the blond’s ear. You could already see a collection of red spots on Art’s throat that would turn into bruises.

You definitely weren’t going to stop. You loved every single depraved noise you could wring out of him. You took mercy on him, easing his sensitive cock into the wet warmth of your mouth.

You’re too soft on him. He likes when you make him work for it. You could hear Patrick’s complaints already.

It didn’t matter. You liked taking care of your boy.

He pulsed against your tongue as you took him deeper, his thighs tensing where your hands rested against him. He bucked slightly, brushing the back of your throat. When you gagged around him, he made the same whimpery noise that he made on the tennis courts.

“Tell her thank you,” Patrick said in Art’s ear.

You moaned softly around Art’s length as you felt Patrick’s fingers grip onto your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, faster and faster.

“Art, I’ll make her stop. Say thank you.” Patrick’s voice was firm, no trace of any sympathy. The same way he’d bark corrections that Art needed to make when they practiced together.

“Thank you,“ Art gasped out, like it took all the effort in the world. Patrick used his free hand to rake his nails over Art’s abs, and the blond cried out and bucked into your throat. “Fuck—“

You knew he was close to finishing— still so pent up from the orgasm that Patrick had ruined for him. So sensitive that it wouldn’t take much more effort to have him spilling onto your tongue.

You pulled off slowly, jerking him off with slow, firm strokes. “You wanna cum, baby?” You asked, lips just brushing the sensitive head of his cock.

“Yes! God, need t’ cum so bad,” he cried, desperate and aching for release.

“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ greedy, Art,” Patrick goaded. The hand that was in your hair had moved to your cheek, where he stroked along your skin sweetly. “You think you deserve it?”

“Yes, you asshole,” Art groaned. Patrick laughed, a smile spreading across his lips. You raised a brow, looking at the brunet expectantly for permission. He nodded and you smiled.

“Go on, baby, I’ve got you,” you said, hand moving faster. “I won’t be mean, I’ll let you get what you need.”

He cried out as he finished, painting your tongue with thick spurts of cum. You worked him through it, taking every drop he could offer you, until the feeling of your touch became too much.

“Don’t swallow, c’mere,” Patrick said. You joined him at the top of the bed, kissing him deeply, passing Art’s cum between your mouths with slow laves of your tongues against each other.

Art whined, reaching for your faces, wanting you to include him. Patrick leaned down, kissing him deeply, so he could taste the efforts of both of your attentions. You leaned in, tongue brushing Patrick’s, and Art’s, and you felt warmth flutter in your chest.

“You’re too nice to him,” Patrick said after he pulled away. “I would’ve made him beg for it.”

thank you for readinggggg <3 this was so fun to write 😁🩵

[lovebugism]

fictober idea (if ure up for smut): eddie & reader go to a haunted house. eddie, obviously, gets a boner bc hes a weirdo. reader notices & begs to touch him right here, right now even tho theyve never done anything in public before. so, eddie finds a place to *kinda* hide & reader gets him off, but ofc, eddie cant let reader go without cumming as well.

thanks for requesting :D — eddie gets turned on protecting you at a haunted house, and you obv have to reward him for it (smut 18+, 1.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s been called a freak his whole life. He knew he was different since he could understand what being different meant, and if that made him a weirdo, then so be it. But now he thinks everyone might’ve been right about him. He’s a complete, utter, and total freak.

He walks with you through a haunted house, surrounded by creepy masks and fake blood and your screams, and he’s hard. His dick’s as stiff as a rock and throbbing with a distant ache when most people are scared out of their minds.

It’s all your fault, honestly. You’re clinging to him with an ironclad grip and using him as a shield every time something jumps out at you. Eddie can’t even be scared with you because all he can think about is how masculine he feels protecting you like this. Metalhead freaks like him never get to feel this way — all manly and muscly and brave.

And even though it’s hard to walk while adjusting his pants every five steps, Eddie thinks he’s hiding it pretty well. Well, he was, anyway. Until your ass brushes against his lap, and you clock him immediately.

Trapped in a secluded area of the haunted house, lit up red and blaring the Halloween theme song, you spin around to face him. “Are you hard?” you ask him over the music, face twisted in confusion. You’re not weirded out by it exactly, just genuinely puzzled.

Eddie freezes, chocolate eyes wide. He plays coy despite being caught red-handed. “No.”

You shoot him a deadpanned look, brows raised as you peer at him through your lashes.

He caves. “…Yes.”

“Does scary shit turn you on?” you wonder, laughing softly.

“No!” he responds with a dramatic drawl, sounding more offended than he should be. He is standing rock-hard in the middle of a haunted house, after all. He shifts his weight on his feet and stammers for an answer. “I just… I like being able to protect you and… everything.”

“Aw…” you hum, melting into a puddle at his feet. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Eddie’s visibly surprised by your response. He was prepared to get made fun of at best — slapped and dumped entirely at worst. But here you are, all but admiring how much of a freak your boyfriend is.

“Wait, really?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Especially considering last Halloween, the guy I was dating left me behind at a haunted house.”

“Pussy…” Eddie grumbles under his breath.

“Exactly,” you giggle. “So this is definitely an upgrade.”

Your palms smooth up his chest and over his shoulders. Your fingers entwine behind his neck, halfway embracing him in the middle of the haunt. His hands settle warm and wide on your sides. He squeezes you gently there and lets out a sigh of relief.

“I’m just glad you don’t think I’m a total freak,” he confesses with a forced chuckle. 

“Oh, I definitely think you’re a freak,” you retort in a monotone, then flash him a sickly sweet smile. “I’m just too obsessed with you to care.”

Eddie nods and tries not to smile too wide when you lean in to kiss him. “Noted,” he murmurs.

You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.

“Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, slurred and muffled against his mouth.

He jerks away from you on instinct. He couldn’t hide his shock if he tried. “Huh?” he wonders in a tone that borders on cartoonish. His soft features twist in confusion.

“I need your cock in my mouth like I need to breathe,” you confess with an unabashed groan.

Maybe he wasn’t the freak after all. Maybe this whole time, it was you.

“Well, that’sa tad bit dramatic, but—” You cut off his teasing by fussing with the buckle of his belt. His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t try to stop you. “Whoa. Okay. This is… This is great and everything, babe, but there’s— there’s people around. Someone could walk in.”

You look to your left, then to your right. There’s no one here but you and Eddie in this small square room, filled with a fiery red like the warmth swirling in your belly. You blink at him with doe eyes and shrug innocently. “I don’t see anyone.”

Eddie breathes out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I just don’t wanna us to get caught, babe,” he tells you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms. “Don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Do you want a blowjob or not?”

“Well, yeah, but I—”

“Good,” you hum with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him.

Eddie’s too stunned to stop you. He doesn’t want to stop you.

Bathed in a sinful neon red, you unbutton his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his jeans. You tug at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric. 

“Shit,” he mutters when you press a sweet kiss to his weeping tip. He bites back a moan when you swirl your tongue around the bulbous strawberry head. “Shit— you’re so fucking hot.”

You worship his cock like it’s not just some random Tuesday in the middle of a haunted house. You don’t mean to, really, but he’s making such pretty noises for you — little puffs of tiny breaths and small whines he tries desperately to hide from you. 

His thighs twitch every time you run your tongue over the veins on the underside of him, going slow to feel the rapid pulse there. His fingers crawl in your hair, palms settling on your temples — not pushing you or pulling you away, just holding you as you suck gently at his aching cock.

His pink lips are parted, airing out little moans of ecstasy. His chocolate eyes are dark and glazed over in a honeyed look. His hair hangs over his face, wild and desperate to be pulled.

You let his tip linger in your mouth, drool pooling around him and soaking his twitching cock. The feeling makes him moan — a deep, hearty sound that stems from his chest. 

When his lolling head drops back, you take him in your fist. You don’t bother to work him up to a rapid pace. Using the lubrication of your spit, you jerk him with an expert hand and lick away the pearly beads of pre-cum he leaks for you.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, eyes rolled back before he squeezes them shut. “Oh, fuck, babe—”

You’re already opening your mouth for his cum before he can warn you it’s coming. You know him too well. You notice all the telltale signs before you think he does — the whimpers, the shaking thighs, the rambled moans, the way his balls draw slightly upward. You’re ready to accept his warm, salty loads the second he gives them to you. 

Eddie cups your warm cheek with a ringed hand. He tries to tell you he’s cumming, but his whines get in the way. He grunts quietly, tilting his head backward and holding tightly to you as cum pulses weakly from his slit. 

The tang dribbles over your tongue and mouth. You take it all with ease. You make a big show of it, too — lolling your tongue out of your mouth and letting his cum drip onto the softening pudge of his head. Eddie’s whole body twitches when you take his sensitive cock in your mouth again to swallow it down, like a goddamn lightning strike up his spine.

“How’d I—” His voice is hoarse, so he has to stop and clear his throat. You smile, lips swollen and spit-slick, as you tuck his soft cock back into his jeans and button them again. His eyes are half-lidded and darkened when you rise to full height. “How’d I get so fucking lucky with you, huh?”

You make a vague I don’t know sound and shrug your shoulders with an innocent grin. You lean into his palm when he puts his ringed hands on your jaw. 

“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.”

He’s just rambling now, still a bit dazed from his orgasm. He kisses you harder than anyone’s ever been kissed before, stealing the air from your lungs with ease. It’s like he’s amazed by his own adoration for you — the sheer intensity of it — the way it makes him stupid enough to let you suck his cock in a poorly hidden spot of a haunted house.

You don’t get caught, though. 

Not really, anyway.

There’s a security camera in front of the door you leave from. You make sure to give it a little wave on your way out.

Eddie holds your hand the entire way back to his van, opening the door for you like a total gentleman. It’s not the passenger side door, though, but rather the one in the very back. 

“What are you doing?” you wonder, all innocent like you still don’t have the taste of his cum in your mouth.

Eddie just grins at you, lopsided and pink and boyish. “Gotta return the favor, don’t I?”

[savannahsdeath]

hiii i love ur fics ive read them all i ws wondering if you could like do a 18+ with a extremely jealous ellie??

thank you sm ily😭💞and yes ofc i tried my best!!

JEALOUS!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: els didnt like some of the messages she found on your phone..

warnings: 18+!! smut, jealousy(obv), language

writers note: sorry it took me so long to post it😓ive actually written it like one day after you requested but i had already some posts planned and i didnt want to change everything now💔

You came back after a meeting with your co-workers to see your girlfriend waiting for you. As soon as she heard the door open, she leaned on the doorframe of the living room, looking at you with an undefined expression.

"You're late." She mumbled, her voice sounding mad but the way she planted wet little kisses all over your face said otherwise.

Ellie's closeness wasn't just out of greeting, but out of an act of possessiveness and jealousy that you grew accustomed to in the relationship.

You sighed and looked at Ellie for a second, before saying, "Yeah, I'm late. Sorry." You gave her a quick kiss too while looking for your keys. "Meeting ended late." Your voice wasn't as cheery as it usually is.

Ellie then rolled her eyes. "Did you really had to stay that long?" She muttered loudly, trying to hide the jealousy that was so clearly showing.

"It was important." You said, finding your keys and pulling them out of your pockets. You didn't sound upset because it was hard to be upset with Ellie. She was like a little kitten who was possessive and needy at times, but still oh so sweet.

Ellie rolled her eyes again but smiled, and she leaned onto you with her arms wrapped around your waist in a hug. This was where you felt safe and home.

"C'mon," she said softly, "let's go to bed."

You nodded. "I'll just go to the bathroom, 'kay?" You asked, giving her your bag, like you always did after work - she'll lug it upstairs for you.

"Of course, darling." Ellie smiled as she took the bag from you, her expression now fully warm and affectionate. You were lucky to have her, and you knew that.

You went to the bathroom and started to wash your face and brush your teeth, taking a moment to yourself.

After a few minutes, and a good splash of cold water on your face, you exited the bathroom and made your way upstairs. Ellie was waiting for you in the bedroom.

She was doing something on your phone, which didn't surprise you - she was probably just going through your gallery, staring at your pics. You had nothing to hide anyway.

She often did that, smiling widely and mumbling things like 'my wife's so pretty'.

This time, though, she was silent and had a frown on her face.

"Who's Steve?" She asked when she saw you.

"I don't know." You answered honestly. You had no idea who is she talking about, probably a random boy following you.

"You two texted." She passed your phone to you with an opened short conversation. He replied to your story, complimenting you, you thanked him, that's all.

"Yeah, I remember now. What about him?" You lied down next to her, curiously staring at the screen, expecting some more messages to magically appear and explain the situation.

Ellie sat on top of you, playing with the hem of your shirt. "He's hitting on you." She said as she got more bold, now not only fingers but her whole hands sliding up and down your waist.

"I don't know him. He just texted me once." You shrugged, reading the conversation over and over again to find which part made your girlfriend act like that.

"Yeah, and what does his text say?" She smirked, not in her usual innocent way, but in a 'think twice before you answer' way.

You scrolled to his first message and read it out loud. It was simple "stunning💞" in a reply to your story - a photo Ellie took of you at the beach a week ago but you forgot to post it before.

"Exactly. Now, what are you wearing on that pic?" Her smirk widened as she started to undo the button of your jeans.

You didn't pay much attention to her moves, focusing on her orders. "A swimsuit. I mean, we were at th-"

She shushed you, pressing her lips against yours. She pulled away after a good minute, leaving you breathless. She forced the phone, which slipped off of your embrace while she kissed you, back between your fingers.

"Stop explaining yourself or I'll think you actually have something to explain. For now, I'm just asking simple questions. Do I look like I'm mad?" She held your chin with one of her hands, while the other was unbuttoning your formal-looking work shirt.

She really didn't look mad, but you knew it's just her ability to camouflage.

You let out a relieved sigh as soon as you catched your breath. "Oh. Right. Look, it's not a big deal, I told him I'm-"

"Busy. Yeah, I know." She cut you off. "Pretty pathetic excuse."

"What was I supposed to say?" You barely managed to say as she started tracing a path of messy, wet kisses from your neck down your body.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" She laughed and you could feel the vibrations in her breath caused by her sudden outburst on your stomach, right were she stopped to answer you.

You stayed quiet, not wanting to make it worse or seem even dumber in her eyes than you already do, if that's even possible. She noticed your confusion and didn't pressure you to read her mind.

"That you have a girlfriend. That she told you to post it. That she took this pic." She made a pause after every sentence to cling her tongue, followed quickly after with her mouth, to your core, watching your body slightly squirm. You didn't even realize when she arrived that low, and when she took off your underwear, but that wasn't important anymore. "That it was her idea to go to the beach. That she helped you pick your swimsuit. That she saw you in it first..."

"Els... Stop..." You moaned out, feeling jealous of how unbothered she looks while you were already soaking.

"Stop what?" She laughed, sucking on your clit while taking off her rings.

This simple, two-words question, turned out to be more difficult to answer than you'd thought. Actually, what did you had in mind while telling her to stop? Hers 'that she...' calculations? Her hand placement, which had a bruising grip on your thighs? Or her tongue, that had definitely affected you the most, making you drop the phone, screen-down on the bed, and hopefully hold into the bed sheets?

"That's what I thought." She said before you could think of a correct answer.

She had a whole scolding prepared in her mind, but you wasn't honoured to hear it as she had a better plan. Still, she wanted to talk to you through it, watching you do your best to answer or just understand her while she makes you look and feel like a total mess. In order to not leave your cunt hopelessly tremble, right after she took her tongue off of your clit, she pushed two fingers into your entrance.

You gasped, squeezing your thighs together, which made Ellie laugh. It was a normal reaction - her move was unexpected - but your eyes rolling back always got a reaction out of her.

"Back to the topic, want to tell me why you decided saying 'you're busy' will work?" She smirked, her fingers pumping in and out, clenching and unclenching, in a painfully fast and rough way. Her thumb rubbed your clit, replacing her tongue.

"I... If I-'d" You stuttered, taking a deep breath after every letter you managed to say.

"Y-Y...You what?" She mocked your mumbling, her smirk turning into a smile.

Your back arched, making your hips move higher, but Ellie held them down with her free arm. Even though her nails were trimmed short, so she won't have to worry she'll hurt your pretty cunt, you swore you feel them digging into your waist.

"That hurt-s..." You whispered, but you weren't really bothered by it, even though your eyes were starting to get teary.

"Yeah? Don't worry, I'm sure Steve would make it hurt more... if you'd give him a chance, that is. But you didn't and won't." Her free hand let go of your hip, taking your phone and staring at the unlocked screen, clearly thinking or considering something. "I know you're mine and you know that too." She finally concluded, but right before she put the device down, you got a notification.

She mischievously smiled as she saw who's the message from.

"You got yourself a fan." She laughed as she opened your conversation with the reason of her jealous behaviour. "'Still busy?' and a fucking winking emoji. Jesus, that's just embarrasing."

You couldn't help but admire how good her attention span was - one hand making you a whining mess, other typing on your phone, eyes barely looking away from you (only to read his text, she typed hers blindly), mind probably racing with ideas to make him, or you, or both of you, regret your little conversation. She was obviously overreacting, but then again, your profile was full of Ellie and there's no way he missed all the cute posts about her.

"Should I show him how 'stunning' you look right now?" She chuckled and shook her head. "Nah, this view is for me only."

"What d-id you do?" You stuttered, trying to take your phone back, but she placed it out of your reach and aggressively grabbed your wrist.

"I liked it more when you moaned instead of asking questions." And just as she said that, she got faster again, making your cunt tighten even more around her fingers. Even though it may seem she's not paying much attention to how precise she is, she kept violating your sensitive spot, not missing it once.

Your head hit the pillow, leaning back on it and exposing your throat from which many signs of your pleasure came.

She was wondering again, her eyes looking you up and down before finally staying at your face. Her smile faded as she looked at you for a few moments. Then, she picked up your phone and passed it to you, following by simple but stern words; "Block him."

Your hands were shaky, so instead of pressing the block button, you almost accidentally called him a few times.

Ellie's smirk came back as she looked at you obediently fulfill her requests. She knew she could make you do anything she wanted now, but she didn't feel the need to. The only thing she needed was you with her - her only.

She took the mobile from you, whispering soft 'good girl' as she saw you succeed to do what she asked you to.

"Next time, if someone bothers you, just tell me straight away." She patted your cheek, her focus going back to what's her right hand doing.

This boy didn't bother you at all, he was just nice. But you knew what Ellie meant - he bothered her. Without arguing, you silently nodded, knowing this is the last time you posted a swimsuit photo on your account.

[applcrumbl]

Argumentative?

Pairings: Rafe Cameron X F! Reader Warnings: Soft Rafe (It’s a warning of it’s own), angst, alcohol mention Author’s Note: I’m so on the fence with Rafe cos like he’s obvs a horrible character, but like he’s such a good character. Like he’s sexy and he’s well-written, I love him. But he’s an arsehole, I hate him. yknow

Summary:  You and Rafe never argue, ever. 

Despite Rafe’s hard demeanour, and tendency to need the final word at all times, very seldom did you argue in your relationship. For someone living with so much hatred, it was important to Rafe that you never experienced it. 

Typically, you got on well. Similar in interest but completely different in manner. He was the talker, you were the listener. You washed the dishes, he put them away. You simply never fought.

Bickering was different, you’d laugh and joke around, poke holes at a bad haircut and so forth. And naturally, with Rafe, jealousy was a large part of your day-to-day life together, but the anger that came was never directed at you. He knew how un-wandering your eyes were, and he knew how beautiful other people found you. Yes, he’d lose his temper at the Pogue looking you up and down, but no, he would never blame you for it. He knew that you were his.

On the other hand, you were never entirely sure that he was yours. He’d never once cheated, or given you any reason to think that he was, but you were aware of his past when your first met. Aware of the elusive Rafe Cameron who was never tied down for long. Self-consciousness crept in quickly after you’d hit the one-year mark.

A trip to the mainland that you’d chosen to accompany your boyfriend on. Simply a few drinks with some potential clients, Rafe was expected to go following his new position in the family company. The insecurity began when he hadn’t initially invited you, it stayed as you realised how many beautiful women were there - each with eyes on Cameron Development’s newest CEO.

You tried to loop your arm in his, an effort to have the eyes turn away, but Rafe didn’t notice. His hands still tightly in his trouser pocket, networking away. Neither he, or the leggy brunette in front of him noticed as you slipped from his side and found the open bar.

10 Minutes and 3 miscellaneous drinks later, he found you. Tucked away and sipping your straw.

“Hey,” he soothes, “Where ya been?”

You look to him, “Here.” you state, plain and simple.

“Obviously,” He tries to jest, “Why did you leave me?”

“I came for a drink.”

“Why didn’t you come back?”

“Why are you suddenly so interested?”

I must reinstate that you never fought, so anything more than some hushed words, or a light squabble, seriously neared separate bed territory. What might have been a heated conversation to some couples, was a raging bullfight to the pair of you. Rafe had so much of that for the rest of his life. He was adamant that it would never happen with you.

“Let's go outside.” He states; much less a suggestion than a direction, and leads you out a back door to one of Charleston’s quiet alleyways. 

“Talk,” he ordered, hands on each of your arms.

You shrug, “I’ve nothing to say.”

Rafe kisses his teeth, looking away, “Have I done something?” He asks, a hint of insecurity in his tone.

You can’t quite answer, because truthfully he hadn’t. He’d never given you a reason to feel insecure, you just did anyway. Something about knowing that you were never invited, knowing that if you hadn’t decided you’d come along, he’d probably be off with some other woman.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you finally admit, “I should have just let you get on with it like you normally do. Stayed blissfully unaware.”

His eyes squint, “Y/N, I want you here. I have nothing to hide from you?’

You chuckle, it’s hearty but without an ounce of humour to it. “What? Do you think I’m blind or something?” Rafe stands unmoving, taking in your words, “I see you in there, they eat you up, and you feed into it!”

“How do I feed into it?” He’s strangely calm, anger in his tone, but only a whisper of it.

“You flirt! You smile, you complement, you completely ignore that I’m right next to you. Rafe, you don’t even introduce me as your girlfriend-”

“Because I thought it was obvious!”

“It’s not!” You shout, “It’s fucking not.”

The alleyway is quiet again. Muffled voices and music come from inside the door, and a handful of cars driving down the main road a few meters away provide the only light. You see Rafe’s face for a second as they pass by.

“How can other people see that I’m your girlfriend, when I don’t even feel like I am.”

His hands drop to his sides as he inhales shakily. Not a word is spoken, but tears fall from your eyes. Rafe watches them glide, mouth slightly agape. He stands a second more before pulling you into his embrace.

You’d try to fight it, but that’s the last thing you want to do right now. 

“I’m sorry,” Rafe whispers, lips grazing your forehead, “I’m so sorry, Baby”

You want to assure him it’s fine, but it’s not. You were dancing on the grounds of breakup territory, and neither of you wanted that.

“I notice things, Rafe. And you forget that I know your history, I knew who you were before.”

“I’m not him anymore.”

You hesitate your answer, “I know that-”

“Do you?” He asks, pulling away to see your face. His eyes are growing red, obviously fighting back the urge to cry with you, “Because it sounds like you don’t. And I’m not that guy any more, I want you.”

“Do you?”

His words used back on him. Normally he’d continue this argument, fight his way through to victory. Finish the battle with the last word, and full disregard to the other person’s feelings. But, he couldn’t this time. He could never fight with you.

“More than anything.”

Tears fall from his eyes, water staining the silk shirt he wears under his blazer. He doesn’t care, eyes boring into yours, awaiting your words.

"Okay."

[flippinpancakes64]

the cullens with reader who is a professional ice skater but is VERY nervous about their finals because they think they will mess up

The Cullens with an Ice Skater Reader

I have never skated before so... hopefully this is good

But I did go through a Yuri on Ice phase in middle school so maybe that will make up for it

Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it!

Edward:

He can hear all of your thoughts

And he does his best to shut them all down as soon as he hears them

He knows that you are a great skater

He's seen it before

And not only that, but he knows that you are amazing in other aspects of your life too

He has absolutely no doubts in his mind that you are going to do amazing

Does his best to reassure you

And will do anything you need him to

You want some cuddles? Of course

You don't want to see him at all and just want to focus and practice? Consider him a ghost

Alice:

She already knows that you won't mess up

She's seen it in the future

But she doesn't tell you because she doesn't want to interfere with it

She reassures you though

She tries her best to give encouraging words and reassuring promises

When you do eventually compete and don't mess up she tells you about her vision

You get a bit upset that she didn't just tell you that in the first place

But then she kisses you so all's well :)

Jasper:

He could feel your anxiety from a mile away

And it was persistent

It was rubbing off on him a little bit

Even though, logically, he knew that there was no way you would mess up, he couldn't help but feel what you did

At least to an extent

He used his ability on you pretty consistently at the house

Just so you could at least relax before your big day

Other than that he'd stay pretty much in the shadows

He doesn't want to distract you during a time like this

Will give you the biggest kiss ever when you're done

Even though he doesn't like PDA

Rosalie:

She could sense that you were stressed out

But she was genuinely confused as to why

She had seen you run your routine literally hundreds of times

And every time it looked perfect

Even when you did make a mistake, she thought it looked intentional

She told you as much too

Unlike the others, though, she would force you to get out of the house and out of the practice rink (? is that what it's called idek)

She would take you out for a day to get your mind off of things

She is not shocked when you do perfectly btw

Emmett:

He sort of has the same mindset as Rosalie

Like the amount of times he has watched you perform might be in the thousands

And he's only seen you mess up maybe three times

He doesn't get what you're so worried about

Like he understands being nervous

But he thinks you're being too hard on yourself

He does try his best to be there for you though

He will watch you do the same trick 100 times if that makes you feel better

You do perfectly obvs

But if one of the judges doesn't give you a perfect, let's just say that judge suddenly retired out of nowhere

So weird

Esme:

She completely understands being nervous

But she knows that you're great

She will also get you out of the house to get your mind off of things when she notices that you're a little too stressed

She tries to reassure you that you'll do great

But tbh she's a little nervous too

She really hopes that you being so anxious doesn't psych you out and make you mess up

When you do eventually do great she doesn't stop celebrating for a week

She gets Alice's help to throw a party

She invites the Denalis and all of their other friends

So proud

Carlisle:

He sympathizes

There's not a lot that he does anymore that he hasn't been doing for centuries

But there are times where he needs to perform a life saving surgery and he feels that moment of doubt

But he also believes in you and he knows that you can do it

He takes the day off work to come and watch you

He bought the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers that he could find

He will tell anyone that he can that you are his SO and you are amazing

Literally chatting up his coworkers and random patients that come in

Vampire! Bella:

Yeah she understands being nervous

Even after being turned she still feels like she will never be as good as Edward or Alice or any of the Cullens

But she also knows that you are fantastic

She wasn't really into sports of any kind but watching you on the ice makes her want to go full soccer mom mode

She does her best to be reassuring and help you to realize that you are really good and that this is just your brain being stupid

She does say "I told you so" after you finish and do amazing

[ridestomars]

GIRL U WANT – S. HARRINGTON

𖥻 summary: steve harrington is in love with his coworker, y/n, and max mayfield can't stand how annoying a lovesick steve is.  𖥻 pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader 𖥻 warnings: y/n is used!! it's kinda told from max's point of view. idiots in love (obv), max and steve have a little sister-older brother relationship. bad grammar ig. not proofread (yk the deal). 3k-ish words.

💭 liv's thoughts: look at me rewriting my wip list works. this is another one that has been sitting on my docs page for ages, and i finally got the courage to fulfill it. i hope you guys like it! 

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.

“Look at you with your mouth watering, look at you with your mind spinnin'. Why don't we just admit it's all over? She's just the girl you want”. 

People say patience is a virtue, but Maxine Mayfield begs to differ. 

She doesn't believe in that "good things come for those who wait" crap, because nothing nice ever came her way for just standing there until something happened. The only thing she got from waiting around was a terrible yearning sensation of what could have been if she wasn't such a wimp. That is why Max doesn't exercise the righteous quality of patience, preferring her natural impulsiveness instead. Her restlessness is just too precious not to be used – Seventeen magazine insists on telling her that it's just a thing Aries girls do. 

Her effort usually pays off, but when it doesn't, there is nothing better than a "fuck you" to tend the wounds. Rejection is always a possibility, but being disappointed because of it isn't, and with time, you learn how to deal with the negative responses… despite that, Max likes to consider herself too persuasive to ever be declined.

But she has to admit that her intrinsic sense of fearlessness can make her a little insensitive when it comes to people's fear of rejection because, to her, it's just all so simple. Though she tries to be understanding, others' stupidity can become a bit too much for her to handle, and she almost always finds herself on the verge of scolding them for their inability to be bold. It was like when she first started dating Lucas: she had a very serious talk with him about his embarrassment to complain about his wrong orders to the servers because he fears being met with a rude attitude – she still walks up to the workers to point out that his order came with pickles when he didn't want any, but just because it's him. 

For some time now, Max found herself in an annoying situation. Over her boring vacation evenings, she began visiting Family Video a lot, and began picking up on something that grew to be infuriating: Steve's and Y/N's constant bullshit. Their (initial) quiet pining was cute, at first, because it made her feel like she was watching a real-life rom-com, with an exciting "will they or won't they?" plot line… reminiscent of the late-nights where she would pretend to be asleep on the living room couch to catch the new Cheers episode, to see if Diane and Sam would finally get together. Yet, as the days passed and their never-ending coyness appeared to only grow stronger, her hopes started to falter. In fact, the situation began to get so obvious that it started to get on her nerves. Big time.

She was an observer, and easily noticed the lingering looks as they talked, one getting distracted by the other's lips, or the way their brows furrowed when attempting to flirt. Or the jealous blush that dusted over Steve's cheeks whenever he saw you talking to a good-looking customer. And then, whenever you weren't at work, she hears his grumpy huffs that turn into infatuated sighs as soon as you walk through the door, apologizing for being late. It wasn't hard to miss your affectionate words about him when he wasn't around, as if talking about your co-worker would make his absence more tolerable. 

What was sweet, quickly turned into tiresome when the instances of you two almost kissing turn into a daily thing. She can't count the times when she caught Steve leaning his face closer to yours, taking the courage to make his move, but right at the last second… the plan totally backfires. You either bump heads (Max physically cringes whenever she remembers the scene) or too distracted, ended up turning away from the other. Either option brought a burning ache to the chest. 

The blatant crush you have on each other followed Max everywhere she goes as if she was doomed to hear about it until the end of times. Steve was never necessarily reserved about his infatuation – although it seemed like everyone knew about it, except the one person that should –, and since he gives her rides everywhere, she found herself listening to him babble about the gorgeous gleam in your eyes and your shiny hair. The guy sees you as something sacred, and yet… he never admits that he actually likes you, despite the fact that you are all he ever talks about. 

To him, you are a piece of heaven on Earth, the person who understands him the most and makes him feel good about himself, among other incredibly elaborate platonic compliments.

Max knows Steve is pretty much the most idiotic guy to ever exist, but he isn't stupid. It's obvious that he just doesn't want to admit his feelings because, if he does, he will have to do something about it, and being blind to the fact that you feel the same, he doesn't want to risk it. If things went wrong, his heart wouldn't be able to take it. 

The only question roaming Max's head is: he is secure, but at what price? 

It all makes days like today even more unbearable. 

They have been sitting inside Steve's burgundy BMW for almost five minutes now, with the clear window closed, the A/C turned up to maximum speed, and Madonna's 'True Blue' playing on the radio. After their arrival at Family Video's parking lot, Max had asked for a minute, just one fucking minute, to fix her shoelaces and Steve used it as an opportunity to daydream as he stared out the windshield. His eyes were set ahead, and she didn't need to look to know who he was staring at. 

This was starting to get depressing. 

"Steve," Max calls, as harsh as ever. "Stop". 

As if he had just been electrocuted, Steve turns his head to stare at the fifteen-year-old. Eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared, he defends himself, "But I'm not doing anything". 

"Exactly, you moron," she grumbles. "You gotta tell her". 

'No more sadness, I kiss it goodbye. The sun is burs-', Max interrupts Madonna by turning off the radio, stopping any possible distractions.

It's clear that Steve doesn't like where this is going, because his face contorts into that sour annoyed look that makes her take a deep breath. This is going to be difficult.

"Tell what to who?" pretending to be clueless, he purses his lips, but his eyes don't lie, quickly drifting back to Y/N's figure. There was no escape now, not with Max's sharp gaze bearing down on him.

"You're so full of shit".

"Hey! Language, Maxine," he reprimands, "I honestly don't know what you're talking about". 

"You're in love with her," she motions to his co-worker who was still blissfully unaware of the car parked outside. 

And her words rang as an absurdity to him.  

"Max, for the love of-," his protest is interrupted by the girl and the know-it-all tone he hates so much.

"Steve, you're so into her it's ridiculous," her blue eyes narrow at him, hardening her expression. He scoffs, crossing his arms as he looks in the other direction, trying not to give too much away.

They stay like that for a few seconds, with him staring out the window, refusing to take part in the discussion, and Max glaring at his blushing, conflicted face. 

But then, he breaks. 

"Fine," Steve breathes out, "I mean, I'd make out with her… like, platonically, you know?"

The word comes out as if he had just remembered it existed, and Max doesn't buy it for a second, "You can't make out with someone platonically, Steve".

He takes her harsh delivery with a contemplating face, letting it all sink in. It wasn't groundbreaking, but it did break his argument, and he finds himself agreeing with what she had said… and he gets a grip. 

"Why am I listening to a thirteen-year-old?" he mutters, in disbelief. Huffing, Steve turns back at her, already gripping the door handle, "You know what, smarty-pants? I gotta work".

"I'm fifteen, Harrington! And we're not done!"

Max trails behind him as he gets out of the car in a hurry, stepping heavily into the pavement. As Steve bursts through the glass door with the girl in tow, they catch the attention of everyone inside Family Video. He gives you and Robin an embarrassed smile, stepping onto a random aisle, trying to hide from the curious stares. 

From the corner of his eye, Steve realizes that he still hasn't gotten rid of the stubborn girl, so he gathers the cluttered tapes and organizes them, in a failed attempt to avoid Max's inquisitive look. Moving the Pretty in Pink tapes around, the redhead crosses her arms, still staring. 

"You should learn a thing or two about that movie, you know?" she says with a quiet voice.

"What are you talking about, Mayfield?" he asks with a defeated sigh, clearly getting annoyed by her.

"Duckie didn't do anything about his crush on Andie, and had to settle for being her best friend in the end," she spells it out for him, "While she got to make out with Andrew McCarthy. Arguably more good-looking and charming than Jon Cryer". 

Steve rolls his eyes, but the situation does ring out an alarm at the back of his mind. What if… no, let's not go there. "What are you trying to say, wise-ass?"

"I'm saying," she continues, not willing to let him take a breath, "Are you truly willing to miss your shot? Stop being such a coward and go for it!".

"You talk as if I actually have a chance".

There it is. 

This was what she wanted to hear. 

"Steve, the girl is almost putting up a bright sign saying 'Go for it! Ask me out, you idiot!'". 

Drifting his eyes away from the tapes he was organizing, Steve watches as you laugh at something Robin had said. His gaze softens as he contemplates the scene, his hesitancy quavering every time the sound of your laughter reached his ears. This time, seeing the longing look in his eyes made a gentle, sympathetic feeling grow inside Max's chest, so different than the impatient annoyance she was so used to. 

"Look, Steve," her green eyes droop with friendly warmth. Though she might say that this is such a rare sight, that is what he sees every day when he talks to her. "I'm just saying what I noticed, and even if I'm wrong, which I'm not, by the way, you gotta take this off your chest. This is your chance!".

Staring down at her, he can only blink. Her encouraging words are settling in his mind, screeching as they do so, and he wonders… the gears inside his head spinning out of control, smoking everything so bad he almost can't see anything. Steve feels a bit out of breath.

But, impatient as always, Max keeps going as if she hasn't just collapsed all of his plans to stay in your friendship's comfort zone. With the wisdom that few possess, she continues, "I know you're still hung up on your Nancy-heartbreak and everything, but you're standing in your own way on this one, Steve. I can't tell you what the future holds, but I'm sure that you'll feel a lot better after you tell her about it". 

His intentions to continue ignoring it all are crumbling to dust inside him right now and her words make him feel defenseless, too vulnerable to continue disregarding his own fear of possible rejection. 

"That doesn't make sense," he scoffs, though his voice is soft and quiet, "Why would I want to do something like that if I don't know what the outcome is? She might just turn me down, and I don't think I could…"

Eyes drifting back to your breathtaking figure behind the counter, he stops himself before finishing the sentence. His face lit up with an astonishing expression of realization. Steve lets out another defeated sigh… maybe Max was right. 

With a knowing smile, she tells him, "Because you know she's worth it". 

xxx

Steve has had his head in the clouds ever since his little chat with Max earlier and could barely concentrate on having any work done throughout the rest of his shift. It didn't help that he also couldn't escape the sight of you from any corner of Family Video, and had to take several breaks until closing hours to avoid his head from exploding. 

Pacing back and forth inside the employee's break room instead of helping you put everything away (not exactly the top priority on his list right now), Steve tries to muster up even the slightest string of courage to talk to you about his feelings.

Now, on top of being an absolute wimp, he can also add useless when thinking to his list. 

He takes a big breath as he replays what Max had said, and almost unconsciously, snippets of Billy Joel's 'Tell Her About It' start echoing with it. The combination was able to help him make an outline of everything he'd like to say to you. 

"I like you. I don't want the chance to slip away. It's okay if you don't feel the same. I just wanted to say something before it's too late", he mutters to himself, still walking in circles. "If yes, then, ba-ba-bam, charm her up. If heartbreak, retreat. I'll be fine. Fine. Just fine. A-okay". 

Steve feels the same rush as he felt before going to his High School basketball matches, and he can only hope that the results will be far more positive. He takes another deep breath, shaking his arms before he walks over to the door. His fingers touch the door handle, cool under his fingertips. This is his chance. The store was closing, there were no customers around, and Robin had left early for band practice. 

Let's do it, he thinks to himself.

Determined and possessed by a sense of overconfidence, Steve snaps the door open, letting it hit the wall with a loud noise. The sudden movement turns your attention on him, and he can feel his cheeks burning bright under your gaze, his faux bravado trembling below the warmth of your eyes. The quizzical look you gave made him question his own ability for the dramatics. 

"It, uh, got stuck", he offers an embarrassed smile.

Good. Already starting with a lie.

"Yeah," your expression turns into amusement, "it gets jammed all the time". 

The kindness in your voice makes him feel a little better about himself, maybe he wasn't being such a fool in front of you. His heart started to thump inside his chest, blood pumping in his ears like thunder as he walked closer to where you stood, just behind the big counter. With an intense gaze set on your face, he watched as your eyebrows furrow in his direction again. 

"Is there something on my face?" you lift your hand up to your cheek, wiping it off in a hurry.

"No! It's just-," he interrupts himself, suddenly realizing that this script wasn't supposed to go this way. What is he meant to say now? Under your expectant gaze, it's not like he can think of anything intelligible. "It's not that". 

"Oh, okay," breathing out, seeming relieved by the information, you bring your hand down. With a voice that dripped with curiosity, you ask, "Why we-were you staring, then?"

Steve feels so stupid now that he can only blink down at you, his head getting fuzzy by that cute look in your eyes and the way your lips quirked up, stifling a smile. Yeah, he's a goner.

Before he could actually think about what he was saying, he hears the sound of his voice echoing through the empty video rental store, "I don't wanna be a Duckie". 

"What are you talking about?" you laugh out loud, though it's clear that you're not laughing at him. His words took you both by surprise, and he couldn't expect any other reaction. 

"Sorry," Steve apologizes, chuckling along, "I didn't mean to say that. What I wanted to say was… well, by the look on your face I think you already know". 

Again, he just blurted it out without reflecting on it first. But it was justified. 

For the first time, he saw something different in the way you looked up at him. Maybe it was just him being impacted by Max's words, but Steve swears that he has never seen that mellow tenderness gleaming in the color of your eyes before… or at least, he had never noticed it like this. He feels like an even bigger idiot now for not realizing it sooner. 

"Know what?" your question comes as a sign of your unawareness of his new understanding, and it makes a sweet smile grow on his face.

"I like you". 

The three words come out in a far more relaxed way than he had originally imagined his confession to be. Clearly, his realization made a wave of true confidence wash over his body, putting him back in his element of ease. And to say it out loud was a relief like no other.

But when he was met with no answer, just that shocked look on your face, his smile faltered.

"It's alright if you don't feel the same," he reassures, "I just… I didn't want to keep waiting around, wasting more opportunities by never telling you how I feel, because if you feel the same, I really don't want you to get away just like that. And uh- I don't want to be just your friend, but it's fine if you-"

"I like you too", you talk a bit louder than him, interrupting his train of thought, without any remorse. "I, uh- never said anything because I thought you didn't like me back". 

He is still, like a statue in front of you, processing the information. 

And it seems like an eternity before he cups your face, the palms of his hands resting warmly over your cheeks. His long fingers graze against your temples, and just the feeling is enough to ease your hammering heart, but as he leans closer to your face, you can feel your own breath ricocheting against his lips.

Steve stares at you through half-lidded eyes, as if he is waiting for your go-ahead. And it's only when you softly nod up at him that he presses his mouth against yours, letting his lips wrap around your bottom lip in a soft, loving peck. His mind was misty with increasing thoughts of you, your candy-flavored lips, and the smooth texture of your cheeks, along with the feel of the roots of your hair on his fingertips. You were breathing in each other in your kiss, and your breath came faltering against the other cheek. It was truly world-shattering, something you had never felt before in your life. 

As you slowly, and almost reluctantly so, pull apart, Steve feels a small chuckle bubbling up in his throat. Seeing your amused expression, he smiles. 

"We have so much time to make up for". 

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED! steve masterlist | main masterlist | navigation ���─ hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep. currently accepting requests for steve and eddie. 

𖤐 taglist: @oncasette if you want to be added to my taglist, just click here.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

HELLO HOPE UR HAVING A NICE DAY! i would like to request a shinobu x fem!reader(she/her) :) ok so, this is when shinobu is in her past personality and kanae is still alive, reader has a crush on the grumpy shinobu and tries to court her but, shinobu denies all of the reader’s confessions because shes scared to be in a relationship considering the world theyre in. (obv reader doesnt give up but i wouldnt either) fast travel to kanaes death and reader tries to cheer shinobu up but suddenly shinobu just snaps at the reader (due to stress and overwhelmness) and tells reader to leave her alone for good and reader does just that. reader stops with trying to court shinobu and shinobu will lowkey miss the readers shenanigans and shinobu deeply regrets yelling at reader, so shinobu goes to reader and apologizes and they live happily ever after! I HOPE THAT WASNT TOO COMPLICATED! I TRIED TO MAKE IT SIMPLE BUT MY BRAIN IS IMAGINING SO MUCH AND I HAD RO GET THIS ONE OUT 😍 I LOVE ALL OF YOUR FICS AND YOUVE BEEN MY FAV SHINOBU WRITER IN TUMBLR! HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT -⭐️

A Trade of Equal Value

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: I had a pretty good time writing this one (even if I was still working on it at 2am last night lol)! The timeline is also kinda scuffed because I didn’t want to write in the four years between Kanae’s death and where Shinobu is mentally by the time Tanjirou and Co come around, but I still imagine her at the same age she is when the boys are introduced. I also got pretty angsty with Kanae’s death and Shinobu lashing out, but as usual, it turns out alright in the end.I feel like I should also note that Shinobu has a panic attack which I have bracketed with ‘~~~’. Shinobu even gets a little Gomez Addams-y at the end which I think is pretty nice if I do say so myself. Thanks for the request, I hope you like the result! Word Count: 4,906

“Shinobu, wait up!”

Shinobu exhaled audibly and Kanae giggled beside her, hooking her arm with Shinobu’s so that she couldn’t escape the other demon slayer quickly catching up to them.

“Be nice,” Kanae advised her.

“I’m plenty nice.” Shinobu whispered defensively. She enjoyed (Y/n)’s company more than most of the other people she had to deal with on a daily basis, but she was just getting back from a mission that lasted all night and she was too tired to cater to whatever scheme (Y/n) was cooking up this time.

“Shinobu!” (Y/n) caught up to the sisters and hugged Shinobu from behind, “And hello to you too, Kanae-san!”

“Hello, (Y/n)-chan, how was your night?” Kanae asked, nearly smirking as her rosy-cheeked sister attempted to free herself from (Y/n)’s embrace. (Y/n) showed Shinobu mercy by letting her go and walking at her side instead.

“Pretty quiet. Everything went alright on your end?”

“Just fine.” Kanae confirmed.

“Good! So, um, Shinobu,”

Oh gods, here she goes again… Shinobu braced herself.

“There is a street festival going on in downtown Tokyo tomorrow. Want to go check it out with me? As a date? Or not… whatever you are more comfortable with.”

“What a fun idea!” Kanae spoke on Shinobu’s behalf, “She’ll be happy to go with you!”

“Neesan!” Shinobu objected.

“Am I wrong?” Kanae pouted, “would you not like to spend time with (Y/n)? Should I maybe go with her instead? I wouldn’t mind getting out for the day.”

Shinobu turned her head so (Y/n) couldn’t see her face and scowled at Kanae. Never let it be said that Kanae couldn’t be as conniving as she was kind.

Shinobu had met (Y/n) during Final Selection. They had spent most of that hellish week together, quickly forming a rapport that continued even after they made it out of the wisteria forest. They went on missions together often and spent a lot of off time together too.

They grew very close, close enough that Shinobu’s mood would sour when (Y/n) wasn’t around. Close enough that Kanae felt the need to tease her about how close they walked together in the halls. Close enough that (Y/n) had confessed to Shinobu a few weeks ago and was now trying yet another courting attempt.

Shinobu enjoyed spending time with (Y/n), but if they became any closer than they already were and (Y/n) went out for a mission and never came back, Shinobu was afraid of where that would leave her. It was hard enough to lose people she had met in passing, friends, family… she didn’t want to know what it was like to lose a romantic partner too. She had already witnessed such a thing a few months back.

There was a fiancée of one slayer Shinobu had known in passing since she was a Kakushi. She had been sent to clean up a location before another demon was discovered in the area. Woefully ill-equipped to deal with the situation, she had lost her life.

When the slayer who was her betrothed had received the news, he deteriorated over the next three weeks before finally passing away in his bed at the Butterfly Estate. Shinobu had fumed over the loss.

“There was nothing wrong with him!” She had exclaimed heatedly, angry at the situation. She had been unable to find anything physically wrong with the young man in all the tests she had done.

Kanae smiled sympathetically and put her hands on Shinobu’s shoulders as they watched the Kakushi remove the covered body from the infirmary.

“Sometimes there is just no curing a broken heart,” She had replied.

“I’ll go.” Shinobu gave Kanae a warning glare when her lips split into a larger smile, then she turned back to (Y/n), making the girl jump at the intensity of her stare, “But it is not a date.”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and exhaled softly through her nose before giving Shinobu a small shrug and a relaxed smile, “Understood.”

That’s how it always went. (Y/n) sweetly telling Shinobu she loved her with little gifts and proposed outings with intentions clear. It became as normal a part of their relationship as anything else they did together.

Time and time again, Shinobu would deny her, but always kept her close. She would never admit it, never give herself a moment to reflect on it, but every time (Y/n) expressed her interest in courting her, although Shinobu denied her at every turn, she always felt a sense of relief that (Y/n) was still interested in her.

There had been a few occasions where (Y/n) had gotten friendly with other people and put Shinobu on edge. These instances made her feel jealous and more irritable than what was common for the younger of the Kochou sisters, but (Y/n) always came back to her in the end, even if Shinobu had to do a little prodding behind the scenes.

Kanae had noticed one such occasion and gently scolded Shinobu for it.

“If you are not intending to pursue a courtship with (Y/n), you really mustn’t sabotage the potential for her to find someone who wants to do what you will not. That wouldn’t be fair. Don’t keep her heart if you are not going to share yours in return. Regardless of what you decide, you must treat (Y/n) well. Friend or lover. Do you understand, Shinobu?”

To be lectured by Kanae was truly humbling and even embarrassing to an extent. If Kanae actually scolded someone, one would assume they must have really deserved it. Which is why Shinobu grunted a quick, “yes”, with her eyes cast shamefully to the floor before all but stomping away.

So maybe she had gone a bit overboard interfering with (Y/n)’s sparring partner’s recovery training schedule, but in her defense, (Y/n) was her partner first. Even if she had been okay with back to back sessions, Shinobu didn’t want anything less than (Y/n)’s best when they sparred so that meant nameless-sparkly-eyed-touchy-slayer had to find something else to occupy their time.

Turning the corner after exiting Kanae’s room, she found (Y/n) waiting for her. Leaning against the wall with a couple of wooden swords in her hands, she offered one to Shinobu with a inquisitive look.

“Want to let off some steam?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Shinobu managed a small grin at the offer, taking the sword and ignoring the tingles that traveled through her body when their hands touched.

This was what she wanted, the same steadfast compatibility they had when they met in the forest. Nothing scary, just them in their most pure and uncomplicated form. Was that so wrong? Kanae shouldn’t judge Shinobu for wanting this… the only opinions that mattered in this instance were her own and (Y/n)’s, and perhaps that was true to an extent, but Kanae’s wisdom about treating (Y/n)’s heart with care should not have been so easily pushed to the back of Shinobu’s mind… because it would be the last time such advice left Kanae’s lips.

The preparations for Kanae’s funeral had simultaneously happened agonizingly slow and all too fast. The most time Shinobu had to process her sister’s death was probably in those moments holding her beaten and bloodied body waiting for the Kakushi to collect her from the battlefield. She had held her long enough to notice how her skin had gone cold as the sunrise broke over the hills much too late to save the Hashira from her unforgiving fate. The emptiness she felt when the Kakushi finally arrived and gently took Kanae’s weight off of her almost felt worse than the initial death.

But there was no time to dwell on that. There was work to do. Cremation, service, paperwork, becoming the head of the mansion and taking on all of the duties that entailed. Meetings with Oyakata-sama himself and his condolences and hopes for her moving forward. She had already been close to becoming eligible for a Hashira position herself, but she hadn’t thought she would soon be replacing her sister instead of sitting beside her.

~~~

When she could finally be alone, Shinobu collapsed onto the tatami floor of her bedroom and wept, Kanae’s haori tightly wound within her grasp. What would she do? What would she do without her? Her sister, who loved and understood her more than any other, gone with one last, rattling breath that even now echoed within Shinobu’s ears. Her own breathing now was too shallow, her eyes stung and she couldn’t see. Her stomach felt cold and heart twisted so viscously in her chest that she felt physically ill.

Hands suddenly wrapped around her biceps and she tried to pull away, still struggling to breathe. The hands left for but a moment before they returned, fingers touching more cautiously than before. Slowly running up and down her arms to her hands and then back up to shoulders and the back of her neck, continuing the motion repeatedly.

Over time, the static in her ears dissipated and she was able to hear a soft voice, urging her to breath. She suddenly felt so exhausted that she couldn’t keep herself upright and fell forward, but instead of the floor, forehead fell against something more solid, but not hard. The arms wrapped around her and the voice continued to coax her to breathe, now gently swaying her from side to side.

~~~

Shinobu had no idea how much time had passed when she finally had the strength to pull away, seeing (Y/n) looking over her with worry. It made her feel so small and powerless and… and angry.

“Why,” Shinobu rasped sharply, “are you here?”

(Y/n) flinched backward at Shinobu’s tone, swallowing a lump in the back of her throat before answering.

“With everything that happened, I was worried about you. I could hear you from the hall, you scared me.”

“So?” Shinobu spat, trying to get up, but her legs weren’t cooperating. (Y/n) reached forward to help her, “Don’t.” Shinobu quickly rebuffed.

(Y/n)’s hands returned to her lap, tightly clasped. “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen you like this before. Please, tell me how I can help.”

“I don’t want your help.” Shinobu growled. “Why, why can’t you just leave me alone? You just can’t take no for an answer, can you?” Shinobu wasn’t yelling, but the harshness of her tone was just as sharp in (Y/n)’s ears. “Help me,” She scoffed, though it sounded more like a whimper in her ears, making her more angry, “unless you can bring the dead back to life, stay the hell away from me.”

“Shinobu, please—“

Shinobu was so full of rage and anguish, her misdirected anger only became more pointed. The lack of control was eating at her, she felt like she was lost on treacherous seas, trying to stay afloat by dragging (Y/n) under the churning black water so that she could maybe get just one full breath without swallowing the salty brine. It would be so easy. The one thing that she could control.

“This isn’t something you can fix! This isn’t a fairy tale where you get the girl by saying a few sappy half-baked sentiments. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want you?”

The words struck (Y/n) deeply, but she tried to power through, “That’s not why I’m here, Shinobu. I swear I’m not expecting anything to change. You’re hurting, and as your friend I—“

“You aren’t my friend!” Shinobu shouted. “Time and time again you ask to court me. Time and time again I refuse you. Your narcissism knows no bounds... The kindness you are attempting to show me is a forgery! A means to the end you keep badgering me for! You are reprehensible, a thorn wedged in my side, I can’t stand you, can’t you see that?! Leave!”

Shinobu’s heavy breathing was deafening in the quiet left behind by her words. Glaring down at (Y/n), she felt no lighter. No weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. In fact, as the sound of silence grew, the air around them only seemed to become thicker.

After stewing in the silence, (Y/n) attempted to speak. Her voice cracked on the first word and with it, Shinobu’s heart. She slowly got to her feet as if she had been physically beaten, avoiding Shinobu’s eyes as she turned away to wipe at her own.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered through a hitched sob that made Shinobu’s blood chill, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you felt like that.”

Tell her you don’t. Take it all back, hurry. Try to make it better. Don’t let her slip away too. A hurried whisper within Shinobu’s mind pleaded, but she found herself mute, still and rigid as a statue. Her mind was fuzzy, yet somehow working in overdrive, but she appeared to not have the means to do anything about it.

“I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable. It was hard enough asking the first time, I wouldn’t have asked again if Kanae-san,” another choked sob, “if she hadn’t encourage me to keep trying, if she hadn’t sounded so sure that you felt the same, I wouldn’t have bothered you after that...

Even so, I should have noticed how you really felt. I didn’t pay close enough attention, yet I still claimed to love you. I really am the worst, huh?”

Shinobu could see the terrible false smile (Y/n) wore as she slowly slid the door open and shuffled into the hall. The voice in Shinobu’s head screamed at her to move, to speak, to stop (Y/n) from slipping out of the room completely, but she still stood stubbornly frozen.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

The door closed, furthering the chasm between them and casting Shinobu’s room in darkness once more. She could hear (Y/n)’s footsteps fading, but instead of following, she slid back down to the floor in a strange state between wakefulness and unconsciousness. Not quite grasping the gravity of this event until much later when the other girls finally had her eating and sleeping properly again and she had some time to reflect.

(Y/n) had made good on her promise to leave Shinobu alone. When Shinobu had worked up the courage to find her and apologize for all the awful things she said nearly a month ago, the room that was all but officially (Y/n)’s was uniform with the other empty rooms spread across the mansion.

Kiyo had found her standing in the doorway and timidly approached.

“(Y/n)-san told us that she was going to ask the Stone Hashira if he was willing to take on another Tsuguko. Her crow sent us a letter a couple days later. She was accepted. The Kakushi helped relocate her belongings.”

“Oh.” Shinobu softly exclaimed, because what else could she say? It was either that or sink to the floor like a slug and Shinobu wasn’t quite ready to go that route yet.

“But now that you know, you could go talk to her. If you wanted to.” Kiyo cautiously added. She and the other girls may or may not have caught wind of what had happened, but were too nervous to try to interfere before now.

“Thank you, Kiyo. I think I will do just that.”

***

“Himejima-san, please.”

Shinobu couldn’t believe that Gyomei of all people was getting in her way of speaking to (Y/n). The man who had saved her and introduced her to a cultivator had been a father figure to her for years now and to have him standing in her way like he was now stung.

“It is not my decision to make,” Gyomei shook his head, still standing firm, “She does not wish to see you. Why that is, I do not know, but it is the decision she has made and one that I must honor.”

“I need to see her, it’s urgent.” She insisted.

“Is her health failing?”

“No.”

“Does she have a mission?”

“…No.”

“Then I see no reason to yield, young Kochou.” Gyomei shook his head woefully, “But I can tell this is important to you, if you have a message for her, I shall relay it for you if you are comfortable.”

Shinobu stared past Gyomei, looking longingly at the towering fence that enclosed his estate. She honed in on the sound of slayers training beyond the walls, hoping to hear (Y/n)’s voice among the shouts and grunts and clacking practice swords, but heard no such sound in the commotion.

“Can I write it out myself?” She asked Gyomei. He nodded.

“I will allow it… Again, I don’t know what this is about, but take time and care in writing what you want to say. You can send En by when you’ve completed your letter or hand it off to myself.”

“Very well. I shall do that.” With one last look at the tall fence, Shinobu turned to leave and Gyomei spoke up once more.

“Do not get disheartened if you do not get the results you hope for right away. Find a happy medium between patience and persistence and perhaps she will come around.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you.”

As soon as Shinobu got home, she locked herself in her office for hours and every attempted draft of apology could not even begin to touch on all she regretted. Her waste bin was overflowing by the time she had something that didn’t immediately make her want to rip the offending paper in two. Before she could change her mind, she sent En off with the letter and waited anxiously for a reply. Hoping beyond hope they could go back to where they were before. Shinobu needed that familiarity and stability. She craved it. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait terribly long for a reply, but unfortunately it read,

I’m relieved to hear you are in a better place, but just as you have had time to reflect on that night, I have as well.

Your words that night hurt me in a way that I’ve never been hurt before, made worse by the fact that it was you who had said them to me.

Part of me wanted to be furious with you, I thought that I should be, but I wasn’t. I was empathetic to your loss and the new responsibilities that were thrust upon you. But even though I tried to convince myself that you lashed out because of the pressure, I believe there was some truth in what you had said.

If I could go back in time, I would have just kept my feelings to myself to spare us all the trouble. Despite this, I am happy that you hope to patch things up between us.

However, in my reflection, I came to the conclusion that even after all of this, I am still hopelessly in love with you despite everything. In the interest of preserving my heart, and saving you from the discomfort of my affections, I do not think it wise for us to reconnect. At least, not until I manage to get over you. I don’t know how long that will take, but given that not a waking hour passes that I don’t think about you, it probably won’t be any time soon.

I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable to read this, I’m just trying to be honest. Tell the girls I said hi, and please take care of yourself.

Wishing you the best,

(Y/n)

“Wishing you the best?” Shinobu hissed under her breath, the paper crinkling between the harsh pinching of her fingertips. “There is no best of me without you, idiot.”

Shinobu allowed herself time to cry, but not a lot. Gyomei’s words were still on her mind. If she wanted (Y/n) back, she wasn’t going to get her by crying, but now she needed to make a very important choice.

Continue to push for friendship, or confront the romantic feelings that she had fought like hell to keep hidden. Was accepting those feelings and the vulnerability the would bring worse than not having (Y/n) in her life at all?

“Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Shinobu softly pondered the old proverb. Kanae had been a fan of the saying and Shinobu had never really understood the sentiment until now.

Though she was going to fight like hell to be worthy of the love she had lost and reclaim it once more.

***

“Another letter? En, that’s three just today. You don’t have to bend to her every whim.” (Y/n) fussed over the bird, setting her up with fresh water and seed.

“It is important to Shinobu, so it is important to me.” The loyal crow proudly stated, though she was very grateful for (Y/n)’s continued hospitality.

“Just try not to over do it.” (Y/n) sighed and unfurled the letter, quickly catching the pressed flowers within and quietly cursing as bits of the brittle plants flaked off and fell to the floor. She carefully paced the dried flowers on her desk and scanned over the letter, finding it to be another poem. “What is she trying to achieve here? Why is she doing this?”

“To win back your trust, your heart,” En cocked her head left and then right, “Is it not obvious? Should I suggest being more direct?”

“Why does she want my heart so badly all of the sudden?” A bit of irritation slipping into her tone, “Is it something she wants to seal up in a jar? Bet she’d enjoying having it up on a shelf in the lab. Maybe a paper weight on her desk.”

“You humans vex me,” En’s feathers ruffled, “just give each other something shiny and make up.”

“If only it were that simple.” (Y/n) murmured, finishing her curt response to Shinobu’s poem, denying her a visit once again. She then placed the letter beside En. “You can take your time heading back, and if she tries to insist on a fourth delivery today, turn her down for the good of your health.”

En released a low caw that could only be interpreted as a scoff. Promptly scooping up the letter and taking her leave, passing Gyomei in the hallway.

“(Y/n), is all well? You are late for training.”

(Y/n) winced, “I’m so sorry Master. I got distracted.”

“Kochou-san again?”

“Yes…”

“And you still will not see her?” (Y/n)’s silence was answer enough. “Why?”

“I guess when it comes right down to it, I’m scared. Whether it’s me putting my own heart out there, or her actively trying to obtain it, I feel like it will inevitably end the same and I don’t think I could go through that again.”

Gyomei hummed thoughtfully, “I think I understand your concerns. Matters of the heart are certainly not easy. Especially when it has already been hurt before. I’m sure you will make your peace with her soon, but I pray that peace and satisfaction will find you sooner.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Can I expect you to join the rest of your peers for training now?”

“Of course!”

“Wonderful. I expect you to have two boulders beaten down to gravel by nightfall.”

(Y/n)’s shoulders slumped and she suppressed a groan.

“Yes, sir.”

This would be a long day…

***

Shinobu halfheartedly paged through the new medicinal tome that had arrived the day prior. She had been eagerly anticipating its arrival for months, but now with En’s latest return proving she had failed to entice (Y/n) once again, she hardly had the motivation.

She was surprised when Gyomei’s crow, Zekka, came to perch at her window some hours later. She took the letter from his beak and he quickly flew off. He was not expecting a reply, she supposed. She unfurled the textured paper and scanned the punched message which simply read,

The best way to receive what it is you are looking for, is to give something of equal value in return.

Himejima Gyomei

“Really, Himejima-san, is this supposed to be a riddle?” Shinobu shook her head, but a determined spark lit up her eyes and she got to work.

***

(Y/n) slumped to the ground, uncaring that she was resting in a pile of rubble. She had destroyed the boulders just as the sun had sank behind the mountains, but at what cost? Himejima seemed nice, but his training was beyond brutal. If the secret of Stone Breathing was to make one’s arms as heavy and stiff as stone, (Y/n) was surely going to be a Master in no time. Her eyes drooped shut. It wouldn’t be the first time she took a dirt nap after training, but an insistent voice was preventing that.

“Hello, hello, please don’t fall asleep out here, (Y/n). I could probably name ten different reasons why it would be a horrible decision.”

Cold hands prodded at her face and sore arms, making her groan in protest and try to shimmy away.

“If you don’t massage and stretch now, you are going to be completely immobile tomorrow. Which may be helpful actually, at least then you won’t be able to run away from me.”

(Y/n) heard her arm crack and pop, which would have have alarming except it felt like a relief. She cracked opened her eyes, soon blown wide open when she realized who was busy cracking and rotating her aching wrist. If her heart had ever raced when she saw Shinobu (which it did) it was sprinting now. Damn traitorous organ never learned.

“What are you doing here? How are you here?” She whispered, not even because she was pretty sure she was dehydrated, but because it just felt appropriate to whisper.

“Jumped over the fence.” Shinobu answered casually, taking her time cracking (Y/n)’s knuckles and massaging her palm now, “Though I’m sure Himejima-san is well aware of my presence and wouldn’t have minded me using the front gate this time around. And for your first question, I’m here for you.”

“Shinobu, I told you that I—“

“—I have something I want to give you formally. What you decide to do from there is completely your choice. I know I have always asked a lot of you, but please allow me this once more.”

“…Okay.” Even after nearly four months of separation, (Y/n) found herself still unable to deny her. In her mind, this did not bode well for what little progress she thought she had made.

“Thank you.”

Shinobu stoked her thumbs over the palm of (Y/n)’s hand before bringing it to her chest, placing it over her heart and holding it there with both hands.

“Wh-what are you doing?” (Y/n) squeaked, trying to inch her palm higher, somehere above Shinobu’s clavicle and not quite so close to the swell of her chest, but Shinobu held firm.

“Do you feel that?” She asked.

“What am I supposed to be feeling?!”

“My heartbeat, of course. Can’t you feel it? It’s beating rather hard right now.”

It was hard to pay attention to anything other than her own racing heart if she was honest. Besides, a hand to someone’s chest wasn’t the best way to find a pulse. Shinobu of all people should know that.

“Maybe this will help.”

(Y/n) let Shinobu shift their positions around, mostly because she was still stiff and her body was refusing to cooperate with her own wishes. After a bit of maneuvering, she found her cheek resting on Shinobu’s chest instead, a speedy and strong drumbeat pressed against her ear.

“Is that better?” Shinobu asked.

“Why are you doing this?”

“To show you that you are not alone, that this is the power you have over me. My heart is yours, it always has been, but I’m giving it to you formally now.”

“Shinobu, I can’t—“

“I don’t expect you to give yours in return, I know I don’t deserve it yet, but I hope to one day. Will you allow me the honor of courting you. You owe me nothing, but I beg of you to allow me the chance to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“Because losing out on the moments we could have while living together is more frightening to me than death itself. I don’t know how much time either of us has, but I want to spend it all with you.”

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes began to water. A quiet sob shook her shoulders and she felt Shinobu’s arms tighten around her. She was so doomed. Try as she might, her heart was very clear. It belonged to Shinobu, no matter what she decided to do. That didn’t mean she couldn’t make her really work for it though.

“Alright, I accept,” (Y/n) sniffed, “you may court me.”

Shinobu gasped softly then took (Y/n)’s hand from her lap, kissing the back of it while locking eyes with her. The intensity of her stare sent a shiver down (Y/n)’s spine.

“I cannot thank you enough for this opportunity. The same one I had denied you of several times in the past. The goddess my heart is devoted to is a merciful one. How unworthy I am of your blessing.”

“I think you have been reading too much poetry.” (Y/n) spoke in a strained whisper, flustered by Shinobu’s intensity. She had never imagined she could be like this.

“Oh this is only the beginning,” Shinobu declared, a purple flame burning in her eyes more vibrantly than any chemical reaction could produce, “You best prepare yourself.”

[frumfrumfroo]

Imagine making a film series like Star Wars and framing the triumphant romantic kiss as 'goodbye'... I still can't believe they made that film. Obvs that's probably how Daisy Ridley interprets it, not necessarily how it was framed (which was lacking narrative altogether), but it's still miserable. It's not even Romeo & Juliet vaunted romantic tragedy. It just sucks.

I do pity the poor anons who are waiting for some sort of different outcome with a new ST film. Studio executives will never look at the critical failure of TROS (it was a commercial success though) and think the takeaway was 'maybe we shouldn't have fractured the SW myth', it's 'oh, okay, let's never deviate ever again, damn that blasted TLJ' - just look at how JJ and co. tried to retroject TROS' failures onto the previous film. Course correction, course correction. Rey Film, if it gets made, will be DO YOU REMEMBER THIS? self-flagellating apology. Ben Solo will never return.

Yeah, anyone trying to come up with any positive spin on it, including desperate attempts to see it as effective tragedy, are doomed to failure. Only by completely ignoring the context and taking the moment by itself carried only on the actors' performances as continuity from TLJ without any of the terrible fucking tros script in the way can the kiss actually mean something.

As soon as you try to make tros into any kind of story or draw any kind of sincere message from it, you immediately run into the brick wall of what a soulless, nonsensical piece of trash it is.

I had a whole rant about how it's not Romeo and Juliet and I am still so annoyed how often people draw the comparison, both utterly missing the point of R&J and giving tros credit which it does not deserve by imagining it assigns any meaning to Ben's death whatsoever.

Yep. We've seen them do nothing but triple down. They have no idea why the movie was such an embarrassing wet fart. Rey the sexless eternal child will never be challenged again, she'll go on a worship tour of references, places, and objects to do reverence as the Brand Avatar. She's not a character any more and she's never going to be again.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Okay I think I’ve finally come up with a plot for that jervis story I was telling you about. This is pretty long- I’m sorry 😭

Basically could follow the same plots as the ‘come on Eileen’ story with an age gap but obv themed for Jervis’s character. For the sake of everything, since this could be already dark-ish, instead of Alice being his sister, she’s his coworker. Very similar story tied with the btas version. Anyways continuing that, let’s say reader is Jim and Barbara’s kid all the way from episode 1 when they were still in there couple era (I miss it 😔). Jim had custody over reader when Barbara was sent to Arkham but once she’s out and running the sirens club, her and Jim come to an agreement for the sake of the reader to co-parent. Reader is about 10-13 during that time and then jumping to like season 3 with jervis being introduced, reader is around 17-19 (I’m not sure if this is the realistic time jump but whatever). During the first episode with how Barbara introduces tabby to jervis, imagine that same scenario but with reader also present. Jervis realizes how much reader reminds him of the book version of Alice with their curiosity, ambition, etc. I’d like to imagine Barbara finds it cute in a way similar with that one fix you did when jervis was leaving stuff for the reader while tabby is like “Stay away from the baby 😡”.

Now when Alice gets killed, we know jervis makes him go through all these games of killing and stuff and then he has to choose the one he loves. Instead of Val, it’s reader. As much as Jervis doesn’t want to hurt his current crush, he tries to be nicer about it and shoots them where the bullet won’t damage them as bad?? Idk where else I’m goin with this lol. I’ll let you come up with whatever else you wanna do. Be creative if you’d like.

I’d say basically it follows the plot of season 3 but without Alice and reader is present.

Thank you Cupid 🙏🖤

'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART ONE]

-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Everything's always the same in Gotham. Hard to imagine things changing.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) Readers got trauma. Reader's also a cynic and dissociating. She fell first, he fell harder. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. Jervis being an obsessive freak, per usual. Jervis and reader are soulmates, not just in his head but in real life! More about reader is revealed as the story goes on. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.

⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - ‘PART THREE, - ‘PART FOUR, - ‘PART FIVE, - ‘PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN, - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, -'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE, - 'PART THIRTEEN, - 'PART FOURTEEN,

Special thanks to @adalwolfgang for giving me the idea for this fic <3 really really excited to make this multichapter !!

♫ “Echoes of your name inside my mind / Halo, hiding my obsession.” Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

You feel like your ten again, staring into space, watching the passerby's from inside a Gala. You're mother used to take you there, when you're dad wasn't available.

You sometimes miss it, even though you used to complain. You hated just sitting there, hours on end, seeing rich people dance; like there weren't people being murdered on the street two blocks down. Maybe you took after your father in that aspect. It was a curse.

Your mom used to do your hair. You remember the way she finger-twirled your curls, gasping as she looked in the mirror. Eyes wide, she always said the same thing.

"Look at you, you're gorgeous!" You'd laugh and hit her on the shoulder, young and innocent. Sometimes, you'd make a mess of her lipsticks and bronzer. You'd try on her dresses which were far too tall for your young stature.

The sound of yelling rips you away from your thoughts.

This place isn't a gala. It's a club. And you didn't get ready with your mom, you got ready in the morning, waking up alone in your dads house.

You watch the two men argue from across the bar. You're cradling a drink; unsure what to do with it. Selina had stole it for you, somehow. You didn't ask questions anymore. You'd known her since you were eleven and she was eight. You didn't really like to drink. She knew that. You don't know where she ran off too.

Mindlessly stirring your glass in your palm, you can't help but squint under the bright blue lights. This place...it's not your first choice of where you'd like to be right now. Never is.

You hear a feminine voice calling you to the front of the club, and you can already guess who it is. You haven't seen her in a little over a week, not that it matters.

You decide to down your drink anyway. Who cares.

Pushing your way through the crowds of Gothamites, you notice the stage light up. Your mother and Tabitha stand in grand dresses. Tabitha's resting, one arm on the bar, looking effectively bored out of her mind. Your mother, on the contrary, looks utterly pleased. You fight the urge to snort.

There's a man on the stage. Long hair, cat-like smile. Your eyes follow the contours of his cheek bones. He's spouting something about waking up from an animal-identity. You're frankly lost, staring into his dark eyes. They look pitch black.

Sounds of clapping arise from the back. You simply suck your teeth. Someone new comes into the club everyday with a different act. This guy certainly wasn't any different.

"A magician? Really?" Tabitha asks, interrupting your thoughts. She sounds displeased and confounded, unsure what to make of Barbara's smile.

"Hypnotist." Your mom answers, correcting her. Ah, so thats what he is. You think. Couldn't hypnotize himself to have a better act? You almost make yourself laugh. Barbara mistakes it for agreeance.

"See! I like him! Y/N likes him!" Barbara chimes, smile lighting up to be a bit more genuine at your laugh. "Like mother like daughter. Plus, the place is packed. Be happy." She waves her drink around. Tabitha still looks peeved.

You want to correct her, but the words 'like mother like daughter' make bile rise in your throat. You don't speak.

"Just a taste, ladies and gentlemen." The man purrs, pulling your attention to him. That dark stare of his never once leaves the crowd. "But now...let us venture into something more arcane."

His eyes drift to you in the crowd, and it feels like a jolt of electricity. You wonder if he feels it too. He must have, since he cocks his head, pausing in his words for a little too long. His brows furrow, until the crowd begins to murmur. It's awfully intense.

You tear your gaze away to look at your mom, wondering if she was who he was looking at instead. It would certainly make more sense, given they must've been around the same age. But as soon as your gaze leaves his, the man clears his throat, and goes right back to speaking.

"The hell was that?" Tabitha whispers to me, and my mind goes blank.

"...No clue."

We watch the rest of the act, intrigued. He makes a man stand on the back of a chair, which definitely does not obey the laws of physics whatsoever. I can see why some people might find this amusing.

Your mom does bring up a good question though.

"So you could get him to do anything you wanted?" She asks, abet too excitedly. You want to roll your eyes. When you were younger, she would've made fun of this guy with you.

The man looks between the two of us, and you squint your eyes.

"Did you have something in mind, Ms. Kean?" He asks, and her gaze darkens. You feel a little sick.

As the act finishes, the man takes one too many bows, but the crowd eats it up. That blinding blue light still bounces off his face. Something about it is...unsettling. You notice it more as he stalks towards the three of you.

"Very impressive, Mr. Tetch." Your mom compliments. Mr. Tetch, huh. Well, you finally have a name for the man. "You have quite the gift. But you didn't answer my question. Can you make people do anything you tell them to do?" She speaks, slowly. Mr. Tetch looks flattered at the praise.

He clicks his tongue. "Only things they secretly wish to do," he remarks, eyes falling on me once more. "It's surprising what people will wish for," His eye contact remains on you, voice getting quieter. "Secretly. Deep down." He repeats.

Your mother makes a sound akin to a pleased hum. Tabitha looks between the man and you, and she looks less than amused.

"True," Tabitha speaks, pushing you to the side a bit. You watch as his gaze leaves yours, and snaps up to her. There's a ghost of a scowl on both of their faces that suddenly makes you confused. "You must be a very popular man."

She takes a swig out of her drink as she says the words, a bit sarcastically. Mr. Tetch, or whatever his name is, doesn't falter in his resolve. He instead offers a polite chuckle.

"Oh, I wish. Parties like this help pave my way, so, thank you."

"And you're new to Gotham?" Your mom asks.

"Yes...just arrived from up north."

"You have a place to stay?" Tabitha asks, head cocked. You begin to feel a bit embarrassed, heat rising in your clothes. They're asking the guy way too many questions. And he's a new comer. Poor man probably doesn't know a thing.

Before the man can answer, you butt in.

"Let the man breathe." You huff, and all three of them look at you in unison. Eyes-narrowed on you, the man blinks. Barbara looks at you, surprised, and Tabitha glares daggers.

Silence surrounds the four of you, and you shiver uncomfortably.

"Just saying." You mumble. Barbara raises an eyebrow.

"You'll have to excuse her. This is my daughter, Y/N."

Jervis's face lights up in realization.

"Ah, I see." He remarks, taking your hand. Tabitha instinctively steps close, watching the way he takes it. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/N."

"Thank you," You say, softly, looking into his eyes. It really does feel like time stops. You can understand why people are hypnotized by him.

Tabitha finally steps in between you two, as Barbara watches the interaction with vague intrigue. He drops your hand with some reluctance. You don't blame him.

"I think you should get going." Tabitha says, firm. The man simply nods.

"Very well. Enjoy your night." He speaks. "Ms. Kean, Ms. Y/N." He bids one last nod of goodbye, before turning on his heel.

[scarletsky153]

no but i got the sudden urge to write a time travel au in which law and luffy accidentally time traveled to just after they ate their devil fruit.

the first one is law and he manages to save cora-san, purge the amber lead poison from his body, met bepo penguin sachi and wolf, stay with wolf for a bit before traveling to east blue because he really needs to know whether luffy came back with him or not.

ofc cora-san didn't let him travel alone and bepo peng sachi wants to follow but cant so law promised to come back to north blue afterwards.

meanwhile luffy is still an ordinary six yo before he then accidentally ate his devil fruit, remember everything, freaked out, and managed to blast conquiror haki so strong the people on the village passed out except for the red haired pirates.

shanks obv freaked out, luffy also freaks out, everyone freak out but then benn manages to calm them down. there's some interrogation, tears and snots, and disbelieve but two days later law arrived at dawn island and everything start to make sense.

(only cora-san and the red haired pirates knew about their time travel shenanigans)

also they tried not to change a lot of things except luffy also wants to save his nakama so luffy manage to save sabo, they beat arlong, found sanji and zeff earlier, visits zoro and kuina monthly, yearly visit from trafalgar "he's my (future) husband!" law, and both law and luffy found their nakamas (the reachable ones) way earlier.

also ace didnt die (fuck you akainu), the straw hat pirates only separated for a year for training, the straw-heart alliance starts way earlier and everyone refers the two captain as co-captain, and law and luffy got married (again) but this time in wano with most of their family intact (and cora-san somehow manages to find law's parents and sister' photo for the wedding).

[kastalani123]

Since my Percabeth Parent Swap Au has recently been infesting my brain a little, I wanted to share some other ideas for it!

Sally got the invisibility cap from Athena in Percy's cradle and gave it to him before she was taken by Hades in PJO

(ig Hades would maybe get some minor prophecy connecting Percy to the lightning bolt to the point he wants to leverage Sally against him?? Or maybe he assumed he was Poseidon's kid bc he likes the sea and he was just. Wrong)

Annabeth obv grows up in Cabin Eleven so she's a bit more of a thief and trickster, but also better understands Luke's and the Titan Army's motivation on a more personal level

She also doesn't have that thirst for a quest since she doesn't want to draw attention to herself, and is internally warring between wanting to leave Camp to see the world and wanting to stay because of how strong her scent is

Annabeth and Percy get claimed around the same time to tie them closer together and give basis for Annabeth choosing him as a questmate

Probably in the same game of Capture the Flag, I'd say? Annabeth comes in to help Percy out when he's getting his ass kicked and they get claimed

(their parents are pissed that they chose the same claiming time)

Annabeth has to live alone in Cabin Three, which. Sucks

Percy gets to have siblings tho!

Annabeth gets Riptide

(the two soon swap their godly gifts for the one they like better)

Also Annabeth doesn't have that same devotion to the gods/her godly parent so she doesn't see Percy's disrespect as so outlandish

The TLT prophecy would probably be different, though probably still include a line about Sally

Annabeth is also dealing with her biggest secret being aired out at the worst moment, as well as going from "random unclaimed kid" to "child destined to save/destroy the world" in one day

Luke tries so hard to get Annabeth to come with him and she almost does but she doesn't want to be what everyone fears

She doesn't go back to Frederick and Co. because they decide it's too dangerous for all of them, at least until the prophecy plays out. They try to keep in touch, though

Tyson is Annabeth's brother. In her Cabin. She gets to deal with that, too

Zöe sees parallels between herself and Annabeth (girl gives Riptide to a hero she's enamoured with (even though Annabeth is "more" of the hero)) so it takes her a bit longer to acknowledge Percy's trustworthiness

(no idea if Annabeth would still be the one kidnapped in TTC or if it'd be Percy)

With Mt St Helens, I'd say Percy tricks Annabeth into blowing the volcano up while he's still in it? Like, he didn't mean to still be inside but it turned out like that, I dunno. Annabeth never gets over the guilt of killing her best friend, even if he turned up alive two weeks after the fact

Unbreakable Annabeth. Can you imagine? Annabeth with the Curse of Styx? Esp a Cabin Eleven-raised Annabeth? She's tossing herself off the Big House because the Stolls dared her to

(she has the same curse as her brother! How wonderful, isn't it?)

She's the one that has to make the cursed blade choice with Luke. She has to give her dagger, gifted to her by her brother with a promise of family, to her brother to kill himself. She is. Very far from okay after that

Her bitterness against the gods wins out over her hubris to get her to refuse immortality

Annabeth is the one taken in HOO. Do with that what you will, I don't remember the books well enough to go into detail

Meanwhile Percy gets to go on the Mark of Athena quest and fight Arachne, which is all very nice for him

Annabeth gets to go feral in Tartarus. And I mean feral. As in, we're throwing out that "afraid of poison-bending" thing because Annabeth is the one losing her mind here and Percy is. Well, his fatal flaw is loyalty, and Akhlys had messed with his best friend (after Grover) and girlfriend. He's not telling Annabeth to stop until he thinks she's completely lost it

Also! Annabeth is not suddenly dumb, nor is Percy suddenly serious! Annabeth is still into architecture and STEM and books! She's still a skilled strategist, it just comes more from her experience and practice than an inborn talent! Percy still loves Montauk and skateboarding and joking around! But without the worry of being a Big Three child, he could more easily get the environment needed for him to explore learning, so he more obviously enjoys it! They don't just swap personalities and interests because they have affinities for some different things now.

[harrygoeswest]

Harry Styles is your sworn enemy. You've decided to take a holiday in the Scottish Highlands, and so has he. And there's only one bed…

~~~

A/N: Welcome to Part 2! This story has been with me for a few months now, so it's a bit weird to be done, but the good stuff is in here! I hope you all enjoy the conclusion, and as always, thank you for reading!

Word Count: 15,007 Trigger Warnings: Swearing (obvs), embarrassing bedtime stories, groovy sexy times

Part 1

~~~

Something woke you earlier than usual. A heavy weight placed somewhere in the region of the most sacred part of one’s body. Not right there, but close enough. 

You accidentally wriggled, and inhaled sharply when it got closer.

Your eyes flew open and you lifted your head. Harry had slung his arm over your midsection. Unconsciously. He was lying on his back, head turned away from you but his arm stretched across the lower half of your sternum and rested against your hip bone. If you tried to peel him off you he might wake. 

You were so warm, and Harry’s arm so close to your middle region was absolutely not helping. You could feel your sex gearing up, anticipating something that was absolutely not going to happen. Traitorous genitals.

It was still raining, you could hear it bashing against the sides and roof of the cabin. For days it had been so loud inside. You wished for peace. Silence. Calm.

Knowing you couldn’t stay in bed with Harry touching you like that while dying a death in a fiery inferno, you made a move. Ever so slowly, you inched towards the edge of the bed until you could get your foot on the floor, and then expertly twisted your body so that his arm landed on the mattress with barely a disruption.

When you were satisfied he was still completely zonked, you slipped into the bathroom and ran a cold shower. You stood underneath the stream and dropped your forehead against the wall.

This was getting ridiculous. Complicated. Scary. Over the course of the week you and Harry had somehow gone from detested enemies to domestic companions. You hadn’t argued in a week. You took road trips together for games and snacks. And to make matters worse, your body was starting to react to him in a way it hadn’t since before you knew him. Yesterday you found his profile attractive and now your body gravitated towards his touch like it was trying to correct some kind of chemical imbalance.

Four more nights you reminded yourself. You can survive four more nights.

You stood under cold water for ten minutes and then went through the motions of washing your hair and scrubbing your body. You made sure you dressed again before you left the bathroom.

Harry, it turned out, had not offered such a courtesy. He was peering at something on his phone, standing over the table with a clean T-shirt in his hands, apparently midway through changing.

Your body went up in flames all over again at the sight of him. It wasn’t like the night you arrived where he was damp and glistening from-

No. You needed to calm the fuck down. Thoughts of Harry in the shower were not appropriate and would not be tolerated. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

“Shower free?” He asked, glancing up at you.

For shitting fuck’s sake.

“No one else is in there.”

His forehead crinkled at your reply. “Good to know… I’d be concerned if there was.”

You didn’t know how to come back to that, so you made for your suitcase in a show of needing something out of it, and Harry took that as his time to get in the bathroom. Once you heard the shower running again you let out a long breath.

Harry hadn’t made any coffee, so for once, since you were the first one up, you prepared yours and his. This exchange malarkey - wanting to be as generous to him as he had started being to you - was another tally on the metaphorical chart. You were in danger of doing something really stupid.

All day you kept to a safe distance. It didn’t help that he decided it was acceptable to walk around the cabin in shirtless periods, so you made sure to avoid eye contact with his chest and keep a straight face. You made breakfast, you made your own lunches, and he made dinner. You finished your jigsaw puzzle with neer a brush of fingertips, and you spent the rest of the day reading. He did the same.

This was safe. Comfortable. Neutral ground.

When you decided to call it a night you lay on your side facing away from him and waited for the inevitable to pull you under. Harry fidgeted beside you more than he usually did and it was the only thing keeping you awake. You wanted to snap at him as equally as you wanted to keep your mouth shut. He’d never fidgeted before, he slept like the dead once he was tucked in. A thing you envied.

He settled eventually, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep yet. It was like you could hear his brain whirring.

Giving in, you peeled an eye open and turned over your shoulder. “Do you need a nightcap or something?”

He glanced at you with a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“If it helps, when I’m struggling to sleep I come up with scenarios in my head that would never happen until my own ridiculousness is too much for my brain.”

It was dark in the room, but you were sure you saw a smile tease on his mouth. “Like what?”

Here goes nothing. This was the exact opposite of what you’d been trying to achieve today, but you’d opened yourself up now like a surgeon operating on your vital organs. Might as well see it through.

You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. “Anything. One time Henry Cavill was a firefighter and rescued me from a burning building. Another time he was my soulmate and fell in love with me at first sight. Another time he was my neighbour and I found out my cat had been flirting with him.”

Harry’s belly laugh filled the quiet room. “Do they always involve Henry Cavill?”

“90% of the time, yes. Sometimes I treat myself and think about that bass player from The 1975.”

“I see… so tall men, then?”

“Broad.” You amend. “It’s all in the shoulders.”

“Interesting.”

“Maybe you could try thinking about doing the splits for that yoga woman again.”

“No.”

You shot a questioning look at him through the darkness, but he likely didn’t catch it given his silence.

He turned his head towards you, expression calm. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Oh boy. “If you want to.”

Harry rolled onto his side to face you, one hand shoved under his pillow. Feeling like you had no other choice, you did the same and gave him your face.

He licked his lips. You’d seen him do it before in interviews before he talked about something exposing. Not that you’d watched many of his interviews. Just the ones Holly had you sit through. So, all of them. “I’ve really enjoyed this week.”

Something bloomed inside you - right in the middle of your stomach, warm and tingly - and spread right through you to the tips of your fingers and toes. You felt it on your cheeks and the tips of your ears, too.

“It’s not been completely horrible,” You admitted, voice suddenly a little hoarse.

“I have a theory.”

“What’s that?”

He hesitated. “I might be wrong, but I think Holly and your brother did it on purpose.”

You gave a slow nod. “I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought the same when I got here. I’m sure, if we are onto them, Holly was the main culprit.”

“Oh, yeah.” He said with absolute certainty. “Your brother probably tried to ward her off the idea.”

“Also rather convenient that they were visiting for a family birthday the first weekend we were here.”

“Very convenient.”

You lay there for a moment, offering the smallest little grins to one another while keeping the other’s gaze. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness in the room, and you could just make out his profile. His eyes were heavy but he was still with you. You had the strongest urge to reach out and stroke his face, but you didn’t.

“Will you tell me a secret?”

An eye for an eye.

You took a deep breath and let your mind take a dive. You would give him something. He’d been honest with you. Now it was your turn. “Before I met you, sometimes my bedtime scenarios involved Niall.”

He reared back, face a beautifully offended sight. “Excuse me?”

Howling laughter ripped out of you and you had to bury your face into your pillow to stop from waking any wild animals in the near vicinity. 

“I can’t believe you just said that.” He said against your hysterics.

“I was joking.” You wheezed, and patted his shoulder. His broad, smooth, warm shoulder. “I didn’t, I swear.”

“Who were they about, then?”

You lifted a brow. As if he had to ask… “Seriously?”

“I wanna hear you say it.” He patted the mattress between you - not that there was much of it -, an invitation.

You sighed, but you were smiling, still giddy off the back of your joke. “You, Harry.”

“Can you say it in a full sentence? I might make it my ringtone.”

You shoved his shoulder again. At this point it just seemed you were looking for an excuse to touch it. “No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“A whisper is fine.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed.

He moved an inch closer to you. “Please?”

You glared at him, but were painfully aware of the bitten smile on his face and the closeness of him. “Before I met you, some of my bedtime scenarios involved you.”

He exhaled with such depth and length you thought he might’ve taken his last breath. “What did they involve?”

“Absolutely not, we’re not going there.”

“Oh, come on. Please? Just one. I won’t hold it against you.”

“You and I both know that’s utter bollocks and you will laud it over me for the rest of my life.”

“Surprised you think I’ll be around for the rest of your life.”

“Unless Holly bins you off or you sack my brother, I am aware that it is likely you’ll always just be around. And both likelihoods seem very slim.”

“At least we can tolerate each other now.”

You gasped. “You don’t think I’m intolerable anymore?”

“You’ve grown on me.”

That pleased you more than you were willing to admit. After a beat of silence and another dive into your brain, you came up with one. “There was one I remember. We were friends and you’d come and visit me on your off time without telling me. I always imagined you just walking in the door and making yourself comfortable in my house. And you’d live with me for a few weeks until you had to go again.”

“A few weeks? You crammed a few weeks worth of storyline into one night?”

“Sometimes I had two or three part fantasies.” You shrugged.

“Interesting… is that all that happened? I turned into a vegetable on your sofa until I had to leave again?”

That made you laugh, but you quickly shook your head. “No. I’ve only ever had one bed.”

“So we’d have to share?”

“You don’t seem like the type of man to comfortably spend the night on the floor. And you definitely wouldn’t fit on my sofa.”

“I’ve never seen your house so I wouldn’t know, but I can tell you’ve really thought about this.”

“They say it’s better to write about what you know.”

“Write?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a turn of phrase, Harry. I’m not writing this shit down.” At least, not recently…

“Damn. Maybe I would’ve liked to see it.”

“Funny.”

He grinned. “Glad you think so.”

You shoved him again and closed your eyes. “Go to sleep, Harry. Fantasise about your dream date at one of your shows or something.”

“Was that one of yours?”

Yes. “No.”

His chuckle floated around the room. “Goodnight,”

“Night.”

~

Your face was smushed against something hard when you woke up. It was warm, too, like the inside of an oven after being turned off. Your body worked before your brain did, and your hand decided to feel around for what it could possibly be. It almost felt like a lucid dream. Maybe you weren’t awake yet. Maybe, you were still asleep.

You could’ve just opened your eyes, but they didn’t seem to want to yet. Glued together after a deep and dreamless sleep. You palmed your way over the heated slab you were pressed against without really thinking about it.

Until it produced a low rumble, and shifted a little under you. Then you felt something move against your back. A hand. Underneath your pyjama vest against your side.

Your eyes finally flew open to be met with a tattooed swallow on a pectoral.

“I always knew you secretly liked me.” He groused, voice broken and lacking. And oh so very deep.

“Why aren’t you wearing a T-shirt?” You blurted, unable to move.

“It got really hot last night. You were dead to the world again. Until I lay back down.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughed, a quiet and gruff little sound. “You cuddled me. Not the other way around.”

“And you just let me?”

“Sure. It’s better than trying not to fall out of bed every night.”

You sucked in a breath and tried not to overthink it. “Right.”

“It’s okay, you know. I don’t mind.”

“What if I mind?”

“Do you?”

Did you? You’d spent all of yesterday in your head about how things had changed between you, and his unavoidable attractiveness. Now your subconscious mind and/or body were willingly worming their way into a nighttime cuddle with him.

Christ alive, was there no hope?

“I don’t know.”

He squeezed your hip without a hint of hesitation. “I think I like this side of you.”

You dared to peer up at him. His eyes were droopy from sleep but his irises still glistened like seaglass. His scruff was getting fuller and that urge to stroke it returned. Your belly did a little flip-flop. And then he shifted slightly and you realised that your legs were intertwined, too. Dangerous feelings bloomed between your legs.

“What side is that?” You asked in a breathy voice.

He smirked. He knew what was going on in your head even if he was too polite to say it. “The one where I confuse you without behaving like a prick.”

“It is incredibly inconvenient for me.”

“Does it happen a lot?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I might be shooting myself in the foot here, but I think since you’re not making any attempt to move you can’t mind it that much.”

You made a wordless noise. “I’m in shock.”

“Do you want me to move?”

For the sake of your sanity, it was probably a smart idea. Still, that absolutely didn’t mean you wanted to. And you didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to admit that to him, though.

“You won’t offend me if you say no.” He hummed. He was still around you now in a kind of tense way. He didn’t want to adjust until you said anything.

Christ, this side of Harry was not the one you wanted to get used to.

You bit your lip as if it had any impact over your blatant indecision.

He chuckled, “I’m gonna make this easy for you,” he started shifting, away from you, “I need the loo.”

You were almost certain he was trying to be polite. Again. It did give you the kick up the arse to take yourself out of his space, though.

You kept your gaze down as Harry hauled himself off the bed, determined not to see him in this manner - roughened and lazy.

“Sun’s back.”

“Is it?” You feigned more interest in a loose piece of thread on the bed sheet.

“If it’s warm do you want to go to the lake again?”

“Sounds good.”

It didn’t sound good. It sounded horrific. Only in the sense you’d be subjected to more half-naked Harry. Wet, half-naked Harry.

He finally disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you with your muddled thoughts. You realised in that moment that none of this would get any easier until you were out of the cabin and into your AirBnB. You’d crawl there if you had to.

As you had with every visit down to the lake, you packed a tote with towels, drinks, snacks and enough entertainment to keep you occupied for the day.

You felt the heat the second you opened the cabin door. It was like that first step off a plane after landing in a hot country. 

You started walking while Harry locked up, head tipped towards the sun above you. It was a dry heat today. Dangerous in one way but most definitely your favourite kind. It didn’t feel suffocating like humidity did.

“Definitely ice cream and swimming weather today.” Harry commented as he caught up with you. 

“I love it when it’s like this.” You admitted. The sunny heat made your skin prickle.

“I can tell. You already seem to be in a better mood than yesterday.”

“I’m so glad we don’t have to spend another day indoors. I think I’d have lost my marbles.”

“Sure you’re not just pleased you don’t have to spend so much time in my general vicinity?” He was teasing, for the most part.

“Not even. I’m just not an indoor person.”

“If you say so.” He gave your hip a little poke.

You also caught the way he tried to tangle his fingers in the fabric of your pool dress, whether unconsciously or not, you weren’t sure. “If that were the case, I’d tell you.”

“God damn, I think you’re right.”

Once you made it to the lake you set yourselves up in the sun but close to some shade in case the heat became too much.

“You gonna come for a swim before you ignore me for a book the rest of the day?” Harry teased. “You haven’t gone in once since you got here.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” You muttered, once again averting your gaze while he stripped out of his t-shirt.

“Is this where you tell me you can’t swim?”

You rolled your eyes and ignored his question. “It doesn’t feel very responsible abandoning our things at the same time.”

“They’ll be fine - we’ve got eyes on them.”

“What if we both get distracted and all our food gets nicked?”

“I like that you’re more concerned with the food being stolen than your purse or your phone.”

“Gluten free snacks are expensive.” You argued.

“Come on. Just for a bit? Five minutes and then we’ll come back and do some baking.”

You glanced up at him. You knew you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t. How much ammunition had you already given him if after this holiday things went back to normal? Teenage bedtime stories? Throwing up in the bushes while on your hands and knees? Harassing paparazzi? That last one sounded ludicrous.

“Five minutes, and then I’m getting out to nurse my food.”

“Deal.” He stuck his hand out, but when you took it he dragged you to your feet rather than shook it. 

“Let me just hide all this in the shade.” You said in a quiet voice, still trying to avoid looking at him for long periods of time. 

“Fine. I’ll meet you down there.”

“Okay.”

You busied yourself putting your tote bag in the shadier part of your set up. It should’ve been a five second task but you managed to stretch it out to a half minute. 

When you looked over your shoulder for Harry, he hadn’t got very far. Nor had he gotten any less attractive. In fact, he’d gotten more so. He was like Adonis. All muscles and tanned arms. Those tattoos didn’t help, either. Lord, what a specimen.

“Fuck sake.” You hissed, turning away from him again.

Taking a deep breath, you peeled your pool dress off and left it with your other belongings. Then you took more time just to mentally prepare yourself, smoothing your hands down your body.

“If you were doing this three weeks ago, you wouldn’t be this nervous.” You chided yourself. “Get a grip, woman. He’s just a man. It’s just Harry.”

But he’d never been just Harry, had he?

Fuck off.

You spun around and started marching towards the water’s edge. Harry had only just begun wading through the gentle tide. The volume of rainfall had affected the lake’s size by some margin. The beach was half the depth it had been five days ago yet the heat had attracted more people, leaving less space. It was busy.

“How cold is it?” You demanded once you were within earshot of him.

He turned over his shoulder to answer you, but his response seemed to get caught in his throat. His eyes raked down your body and then back up, a shameless and blatant go at checking you out. You were already hot from the sun, but this was much, much worse.

“It’s not bad.” He managed, gaze lingering on your chest.

Realisation smacked you in the face like a hard, rough paddle. The attraction wasn’t one-sided.

Trying to ignore Harry’s staring, you dipped your toe in, wincing a little. “It’s not great, either.”

“If I push you in it’ll take the shock away faster.”

“So much as touch me, Styles, and you’ll be sleeping outside tonight.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, Jesus Christ.”

You waded in ahead of him until the water swallowed your hips, ultimately proud of yourself. Open-water was not your favourite by any stretch. You turned around with a big grin, only to be met with a wave of water splashing over your entire front.

Shock and bitter cold had your body tensing, and a loud gasp fell out of your mouth. 

Harry’s roaring laughter ripped through the air, back arched and head tipped to the sky. “Oh, that was too good.”

“You,” you took a step toward him, “absolute,” and spread your arm wide, “dick.”

You dragged the length of your arm across the surface of the water and watched as an equivalent wave crashed over him. He staggered a little, but caught himself before he toppled over. A triumph on your part. Now you were even; he was just as wet as you were.

“You’re in trouble.” He warned when his gaze rejoined yours. He started making his way to you, and so you began to retreat.

“You started it.” You put your hands out, heart hammering in your ears.

“And I’m gonna finish it, too.” He lurched towards you.

Squealing, you hurled yourself away from him, only narrowly avoiding being caught. You splashed him again which he did not seem to appreciate, and laughed maniacally with each tread away from him.

“Come here!” He yelled.

“No!”

He chased you further into the water and then back out again towards the shoreline. You were more agile than you gave yourself credit for because you always just managed to be just out of his reach, three steps ahead, and laughing away the whole time.

“You’re a menace, woman!” He bellowed, but he sounded almost breathless.

“You’re only just realising?!” You cackled, narrowly dodging another attempt at grabbing you.

“I’ve known for a long time.” It almost sounded like a promise.

You circled around an innocent old woman a couple of times but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact she was just as entertained as you were.

“You’re supposed to be in peak physical condition, Styles.” You goaded, managing to float further away. “This is embarrassing.”

He gave an exasperated laugh. “I’m going easy on you.”

“Are you? ‘Cause to me it looks like you just can’t keep up.”

You waded further into the water with your back to him, far enough that you were covered up to your chest. When you turned around again, Harry had disappeared.

“What the-,”

“-Boo.” 

You screamed as an arm wrapped around your waist from behind, your heart attempting to flee out of your chest. That familiar boom of laughter filled the air again, and your back was brought flush against Harry’s hard chest. He leaned over and splashed more water over you while you attempted to wriggle free.

“You prick, that’s not fair!”

“I think you’ll find it is fair.” He rebutted. “There were no rules set before we started.”

“You didn’t even alert me to the game before you started it!”

“You turned it into a game by retaliating.”

“Well, I’m not just gonna let you get away with it! And that still doesn’t give you an excuse to scare the shit out of me!”

“Alright, that’s fair.” He conceded, and loosened his hold on you. Then he turned you around by the arms and kept you there. “I’m sorry for scaring the shit out of you.”

Then he did the unthinkable and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, smushing you in a hug against his chest. It wasn’t lost on you how similar it was to the way you woke up this morning, and the change in pace again was giving you some kind of mental whiplash.

To avoid keeling over, you linked your arms around his waist. An odd feeling settled over you. Harry’s body was an unfamiliar comfort; his affection was like gravity. All of a sudden you were grounded, centred. How hadn’t you noticed before that you’d just been floating around?

He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head before he released you, but not entirely. Before you could really pull away, he took your face between his hands, encouraging you to meet his gaze. You gave him that much. Undivided, uncontested attention. You had given him that for a week now. There wasn’t much else to capture your attention.

His eyes were impossibly bright under the beating sun. Wordlessly, he smoothed each of his thumbs across your face, from the bridge of your nose and across your cheekbones to the hilt of your jaw.

Your lips parted with your next exhale and his attention dipped, drawn in by it.

Oh God. 

This was uncharted territory. Would he really do it? Would he kiss you? In public? In front of close to a hundred people. White noise filled your ears at the thought.

The sun was getting hotter as it grew closer to midday. Highest point in the sky. Most lethal temperature. Your back felt dry, scalded.

The ghost of Harry’s touch still lingered on your nose and cheeks. “Can you see the bag?”

He blinked a few times and then lifted his gaze to the beach behind you. “Yeah. It’s still there. Although someone has sat incredibly close to us since we left it.”

You turned around, but his touch didn’t fall away. His hands remained on your shoulders. He was right - someone had set themselves up irritatingly close to your things, and that put you on edge.

“Go on.” He patted your back, right in the middle. “I can tell you’re itching to go back.”

You glanced up at him. “You’re not coming?”

“I never said that.”

Satisfaction nestled in your very core.

Together you waded back through the water to the shoreline and up the beach to your things.

“I’ve never wanted a windbreaker so much in my life.” Harry muttered as you sat back down.

You answered with a smile, and began searching through your tote for suncream. Harry held his hand out, so you squeezed a blob onto his palm and then started on yourself.

“Want me to do your back?” He offered.

Shitting hell. You’d planned to just lie on your back for the rest of the day, or at the very least keep only your front turned to the sun if you were sitting up.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded. 

“Will you do mine after?”

“Sure.”

Harry took the bottle from you, and you turned in your place to offer him your back. You attempted to school your breathing when his hand met your bare skin and began turning circles against it. He was methodical and somewhat cautious in his approach, a complete contrast to his behaviour not fifteen minutes ago. But still, in this kind of proximity with him you felt this unusual comfort, even if it was intermingled with nerves. You did your absolute best not to panic when his hand dropped lower to the waistband of your bottoms.

You switched places after he gave you a gruff, “Done.” This was better, because at least he couldn’t see you now.

While you had the opportunity to, you marvelled at his back, gaze following the lines of strong muscle and tendon. Your hands did their own thing, circling the cream into his skin until it vanished.

You used the excuse of being thorough to make sure you could admire him for as long as possible without it being suspicious, but eventually you gave him a pat on the shoulder to announce you were done.

You settled into comfortable silence. You lay on your back and used your book as a shield from the sun. Harry lay on his front parallel to you with his face turned towards you.

When he didn’t close his eyes or speak to you, you couldn’t help but ask, “Have you not got some form of entertainment with you?”

“Of course I do. You.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not putting my book away to be your monkey.”

“Who said anything about that? Watching you like that is enough.”

You tried your damned hardest to ignore the butterflies in your tummy. “I can only imagine it to be immensely boring.”

“It’s not.” He insisted. “You could read to me if you feel bad, though.” 

“I don’t feel bad, and it would only slow me down.”

His laughter was a glorious, low rumble. “Then I will just watch.”

You sighed, but failed to find the energy to argue further.

Twenty minutes later, when being on your back became uncomfortable, you turned over. Before you settled down again you took the opportunity to look around. 

It was busier. Hardly an inch of space available on the stony beach.

“How bad is it?” Harry asked.

“It’s not great.”

He groaned.

“We can go back soon if you want. There might be some dry ground outside the cabin.”

“Might have to.” He lifted his head and peered over his shoulder. “Christ.”

You gave a helpless squeeze to his shoulder, and your body reacted as anyone’s would when he rested his cheek against it. More butterflies.

Oh boy.

“One more chapter and we’ll go.” You mumbled, voice uneven.

He nodded, and then he did something that took your breath away. He kissed the back of your hand. Just an innocent peck against your knuckle. It was such a certain and unabashed action you almost didn’t believe he’d done it, but the giveaway was the fact that you could still feel it after he pulled his lips away. And then, because you’d lost that last bit of self control, you stroked your hand across his scruff like it was nothing; the most natural thing in the world. It was coarse yet soft, completely contradicting itself.

Your brain betrayed you. Images of what the aftermath might look like if he ever found his way between your legs with a beard like that. Irritation on your inner thighs. Your excitement spread across the fine hairs. A shiny tip of his nose.

Stop.

You smoothed your hand against his scruff again. His eyes fluttered but they never closed. His gaze shifted to yours, and suddenly green was the only colour in the world. And seaglass was your favourite.

His gaze dropped to your mouth and your heart skipped two beats. Your faces had barely an inch of space between them. You could feel his sweet breath as it fanned across your face. He did that nervous lip-lick again, and melted butter replaced the cells that made up your body.

You wanted him to kiss you. Every other feeling you’d ever had towards him vanished like a ship in the Bermuda Triangle. You’d thought the evolution of your attraction towards him had been all on you. That maybe earlier when you’d presented yourself on the shoreline in your swimsuit that he was just doing as all other men did - appreciating something without taking advantage. Look but don’t touch. He wouldn’t be looking at your mouth like that if he didn’t want you.

He seemed to be waging a war with himself over the thought of kissing you, and it made you itch. Made you want it more.

Fuck it.

You used the fact that you were already holding his face as a means of bringing him towards you, and then you closed the short distance and pressed your mouth to his. 

He didn’t react in any way towards you, and your mind fell into a horrendous tailspin. What were you doing? You were in public, and Harry wasn’t just some random beach-goer. He was a fucking celebrity. What if someone had seen you? What if someone was watching, and worse, cataloguing it?

Oh, shit. You’d fucked up.

But when you tried to retreat, he didn’t let you. He chased you back, capturing the side of your face with one hand. He moved his mouth over yours, finally leading, and the tension fell away from your body in heavy reems until you were pliant to him and his wants.

God his mouth was divine. Soft, full, gentle. A little sloppy, but you didn’t mind. It was what you wanted, what you needed. It didn’t cross boundaries or become indecent. It was just… just. Something that fulfilled its own purpose. And you revelled in it for as long as you had it, because you didn’t know if you could have it again once it ended.

Harry’s thumb caressed your cheek and even that made you feel giddy. He parted his mouth and his tongue traced along your lower lip. 

A whimper caught in your throat, and blood rushed to your cheeks, the back of your neck and the tips of your ears. You pulled away with an embarrassed laugh and buried your face against your arm.

He chuckled, dropping his lips to your shoulder. He stroked a hand over your bare back, and it made you shiver. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You huffed. “That was pathetic on my part.”

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

You peeked up at him, finding his gaze already on you. “What would you call it, then?”

He pursed his lips, and you wanted to kiss him all over again. “Kinda sexy.”

“Kinda?”

He leaned closer, using it as an excuse to kiss your shoulder. He lingered, “Won’t be able to stand up for a minute, let’s put it that way.”

A heavy desire settled in your very core, mouth salivating. The sudden need to have this man all over you was frankly startling.

“Maybe I won’t finish my chapter…” 

He gave a breathy laugh as he watched you dogear the corner of your current page. You slipped the book into your tote and rested your head on your arms, facing him. He was resting on his elbow with his cheek against his fist, and he looked every bit the Greek God. His other hand still stroked over your back.

“Ice cream for the way home?” He suggested.

Your nod was slow, purposeful. “Maybe I’ll switch it up and have what you have.”

His gaze fogged with what you could only assume was lust. “I can get on board with that.”

You rolled onto your back and sat up, then pulled your pool dress back over your body. Harry made it to his feet, towering over you.

“Meet me by the van?” He suggested.

“Yeah. I’ll pack up.”

With a nod, he was off. He’d left his t-shirt behind, deciding to make the most of the sun. Knowing that he was roaming around half-naked broke you out in a nervous sweat. There were plenty of other men around without their tops on, but it was different with Harry. His body was recognisable.

You noticed as you packed up that your hands were shaking. You were giving yourself a headache over your back and forth between awkward and spontaneous. Yes, you’d decided to go back to the cabin, but that was before you kissed him. And you were the one that flirted with him, not the other way around. He might’ve been turned on after kissing you but he took no part in initiating things. The fear of possible rejection somewhere later down the line prompted a panic.

No.

No panicking. 

This was Harry. 

Harry, who you would inevitably see again and again further down the line whether things progressed between you or not. You needed to think with your rational head, not the one that fantasised everything. You’d let things take their natural course. If nothing happened, nothing happened. End of story.

Besides, you were moving out of the cabin in a couple of days to the bungalow. It would make that whole shift easier if nothing happened.

With everything collected and packed away, you made your way over to Harry who was paying for your ice cream. He handed you a cone with a mint chocolate chip scoop on the top.

“What’s that?” You asked after spotting the one he was holding.

He looked at his chocolate cone with a smirk. “We can all switch it up, you know.”

“Not the flavour, the cone.” There was an obvious difference between a normal cone and a gluten free one. Harry didn’t have a normal cone like he usually did.

He gave a passive shrug and started walking. “Maybe I’m getting attachments to your food substitutions.”

You snorted. “Seriously?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. You knew he was joking to some degree, but once again, your fantasising brain took over from your rational one. It told you he was being safe with you. If anything did happen again, like a repeat of the little kiss you’d just shared, he didn’t want to run the risk of you getting sick.

As suggestive as you’d been, the rational side struggled to believe they were his real motives. 

He walked ahead of you rather than beside you. It was terrible, actually, because it gave you the perfect view of his back, amongst other things. You’d lost all interest in your ice cream, too busy fawning over the way Harry ate his. It was near pornographic. You had to take a lick of ice cream to cool yourself down.

His tanned back shone under the sun, damp with sweat, and the little curls around his neck were beginning to drip with it, too, squeezing out from under his hat. And then there were his calves, which strained every time he took a step. It didn’t help that you were walking uphill, so his muscles were working overtime.

You took another languid lick from your cone. 

The cabin was in sight, but you had no interest in it. All your focus was on the man in front of you.

Harry turned around just as you were mid-lick, and your body felt limp at the sight of his chest, glistening with sweat between his pectorals. The only thing that distracted you was a cool drip making its way down your chest.

“Shit.” You hissed.

Harry was in your space in an instant. His ice cream was long gone, but that look in his eye had returned. “Making a mess?”

You nodded wordlessly. His gaze was so intense you fought to breathe properly, and it was focused on the wet line of ice cream currently making its way into your cleavage. 

“I’ll get it.” He said, voice pure gravel.

 His mouth lowered to your clavicle, tongue licking against your warm skin. You sucked in a breath, hypnotised when he moved lower down your chest towards your breasts. He took the smallest handful of your dress at the front and pulled it low enough for him to continue to where he wanted. 

The noise you made when he passed his tongue through the top of your cleavage was just as embarrassing as the one earlier, when you’d kissed on the beach. 

The soggy cone in your hand crushed between your tight grip, spilling between your fingertips and down your arm.

Harry placed strategic little pecks back up your front, oblivious to the little dilemma you were having. “Mint chocolate is still my favourite.” He said against your mouth.

“Is it?” You asked breathlessly. “There’s plenty of it.”

He gave you a perturbed look, and then did his eyes trail along your arm to the mess in your hand. You expected him to laugh, but he did no such thing. 

He growled. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and brought your body flush against his. Then he took your elbow in his other hand and brought the mess closer. Because you couldn’t help yourself, you wiped some of it across his mouth and up his cheek.

“You didn’t.” His voice was so low and dangerous it had sparks lighting through random limbs.

“I did,” you whispered.

You reached up and began cleaning it off the same way he had you - with your mouth. You started on his cheek, taking your time to wipe it up as you moved along his scruff to his mouth. And when you did finally reach his mouth he was ravenous with you, the opposite of the kiss on the beach. He ate you up, tongue and all.

For a little while, you let him. He felt good on your mouth. He showed you just how much he wanted you with his tongue and the way he squeezed your body tightly to his. The need to melt into his hold and float away became your top priority.

He started towards your coated arm, but you didn’t want him eating out of your hand. Quite literally. You wanted his focus elsewhere.

You pushed him away, batting off the guilt that came from the offended look on his face. Then you made him watch as you trailed your sticky hand down your chin from your mouth, over columns of your throat to your chest. You smeared most of it off, including on your boobs.

Harry looked like he was about to combust.

“You okay?” You teased. You slipped around him, walking backwards now towards the hut.

He turned over his shoulder and followed. “Do I look okay to you?”

You knew that was his invitation to look at his crotch. You allowed your gaze to drop for just a second, taking in the outline of his erection.

Big was the first thing that came to mind.

“There are worse things to be than turned on.”

A smile flirted with the corners of his mouth. You cleaned your hand up since the majority of the mess you’d made was now making its way down your chest and between your tits. Harry watched you as if you were a brilliant movie on the silver screen. He couldn’t take his eyes off you even if he wanted to.

Your back hit one of the posts on the cabin porch, and Harry found his way back into your space. He slipped the tote bag off your shoulder and let it fall to the floor by your feet.

He took two fistfuls of your dress and tugged it. “I want this off.”

You were still cleaning your hand. You silently nodded around your fingers, and then raised both arms in the air. He shucked the dress up to your chest and then whipped it off, tossing it into one of the chairs posted outside the door.

His gaze raked up your body like a man starved. 

A couple of droplets of ice cream had fallen lower and were trailing down your abdomen towards the line of your bikini. Before they could make it, Harry leaned forward and collected them onto his tongue.

Your breathing hitched, and you took your fingers back into your mouth as you watched him sponge kisses and trail licks back up your front.

You took his cap off with your free hand and dropped it in the same chair as your dress. Then you pushed your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp as he went.

As he reached the underside of your breasts, he smoothed his hands up your thighs. 

A low moan came out of you in anticipation. This man was about to unravel you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. You’d never shied away from sex before, but this was something else. What you and Harry were doing felt different. Exciting.

Harry managed to split his attention between cleaning your chest and smoothing up your thighs. He gripped your waist with one hand, and the other slid between your legs. He started circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, over your bikini.

You’d been wet ever since your kiss on the beach and his hand was only making your desire that much heavier.

“God, Harry,” you groaned, and your back arched away from the post, “just like that.”

He breathed out against your breast, as if hearing your praise was the biggest compliment in the world.

He continued working you up between your thighs as his tongue laved over every inch of your front, wiping up the sticky mess you put there. He sucked your nipple over the fabric of your swimsuit.

“Fuck, your tits are perfect,” he groused, and worked deeper into your heat with his fingers.

“Take them out.” You begged.

He shook his head against your chest, roving upwards. “Not outside.”

This gentlemanly side of him was like a silent killer. He wasn’t up for exposing you in public even though you’d had no quarrel with it. You supposed he was more than well-versed with the repercussions of having your private life displayed for the world to see. It didn’t stop you from grinding on his hand, though.

He lapped up the cream on your chest and throat, until finally, finally his mouth joined yours again. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, bringing his body hard against yours. You continued to grind into his hand while rubbing your boobs against his chest. The friction you so craved was driving you wild.

“You’re unbelievable.” He groaned into your mouth.

“It’s not the first time you’ve told me that.”

He puffed a laugh through his perfect lips. “It’s still true. Except I’m saying it now as a dead man.”

You gasped at the feeling of one of his fingers trying to bury into your heat. “How so?”

“I’m at your mercy, baby.”

“Oh, God.” You whined, keeping his mouth firmly on yours. “I never thought I’d say this but I really want you to fuck me, Harry.”

“I will.” He insisted with a nip of your lips. “But I really want you to come on my hand first.”

“Fuck.” You whimpered.

You ground and ground against Harry’s fingers, focussing all of your attention on that one thing while his kisses plastered your mouth until your climax finally bubbled to the surface and exploded, straining your body in shivering tightness. You buried your face into his neck as you cried out, clinging onto him to help it subside.

He took his hand from between your legs and wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling you away from the column. When your legs weren’t complete jelly, you were already moving again, coaxing him inside.

A deep moan bubbled out of him when you reconnected your lips. He knew what you were doing and he was only too eager to join, walking you into the cabin. The door was kicked shut the second you were over the threshold.

Your hand slid down his front, fingertips tracing over the lines of his torso until you had a handful of clothed man. Harry was big. You knew that already from the brief encounter you’d had with it on arrival, but with your hands on that appendage now, you realised you might have your work cut out for you.

Harry grunted at your touch like a starved animal. It was such a deep, jarring noise it had shivers shooting all over your body, and straight back to your clit again. And you ate that noise right out of his mouth.

You tucked both hands into the waistband of his trunks and slid the garment down, falling to your knees with it. His back hit the door.

“What are you doing?”

You met his gaze, not a hint of hesitation on you. “I want you in my mouth.”

“Christ,” he hissed, “I don’t think I’ll last long if you do that.”

You smirked, gliding your hands up his thighs to wrap around his shaft. “That’s okay.”

“But I want to shag you.”

“I have every intention of doing that, too.”

“Might be hard if I finish in your mouth.”

You gave him a challenging raise of your brow. “You telling me you don’t have enough in you for two rounds? For a man who sings about sex as much as you do, that’s kinda disappointing.”

He knew you were goading him. He could tell by the look in your eye, that fiery glint that lived to wind him up. And it’d be a damn lie if he said he didn’t love it. Sparring with him over nothing was one thing, but to challenge his stamina? Entirely another.

He didn’t take your bait, settling with a tense jaw and a dark look in his eye. You took that as enough encouragement to continue.

You tucked your hands into the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, avoiding getting poked in the eye when it sprang free. Taking it by the base with a gentle grip at first, you studied it with a calm exterior. Your interior, however, was rioting. In me it screamed.

Never one to deny yourself of anything you wanted, you stroked his shaft a couple of times and took him in your mouth without any further delay.

“Bloody hell,” Harry swayed a little at the suddenness of it all, only finding your shoulders to steady himself on.

You started working him, both hand and mouth moving up and down the length of him because he wasn’t going to fit in just your gob, big as it was. Your tongue licked around him too, preening his hot and veiny length. Sometimes it felt wrong to call a phallus beautiful, but his really was.

You gripped the back of his thigh as you bobbed and bobbed and bobbed. If there was such a thing as ‘perfectly hairy’, Harry was it. His leg hair felt incredible in an inexplicable way, and if you weren’t turned on enough already, it was really fucking doing it for you. It turned out, a lot about this man really did it for you.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry panted, stroking your hair as an excuse to just hold your head, “that’s good, darlin’.”

Words of praise hadn’t really been your thing until that exact moment. You worked harder around him, hand and lips moving in quicker succession. You wanted him to praise you more so you’d work even harder than that. Then maybe you’d get to watch him unravel while you tasted him on your tongue for the very first time.

“Not surprised a girl with a mouth like yours knows how to use it.”

It was a backhanded compliment if you’d ever heard one, but you were going with it. You quite enjoyed that he could still find a way to drag you a little while saying nice things. Lewd nice things, but nice all the same.

You pulled back and lifted his length up, closing your mouth around his balls to suck instead. He hissed, fisting the hair at the back of your head. The sharp pain that caused only made you want him more.

You met his gaze as you sucked away at each of his balls, and he was a fucking sight - strong yet vulnerable, beautiful yet roughened. Everything he exuded in that second was a contradiction to itself and the man became more of a conundrum to you than he ever had been. You needed to ground him again. Rearrange the version of him in your head so that the one that existed outside of it became clear.

You slid the hand holding his leg upward and behind to stroke over his ass cheek. Obviously it was smooth and perky and you felt a strange kind of envy because it wasn’t fair that men always had such spectacular rear-ends.

Then you stopped sucking on his bollocks and licked up his shaft like it was better than a freaking Calippo. Hell, it was better by a staggering degree. You prayed to any ethereal entity that would listen that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d get to suck away at Harry’s girthy man-meat.

You licked up the crease on his tip, taking the dribble of pre-come with you. It melted on your tongue, and a dirty groan spilled out of you and over his shaft as it sunk back into the heat of your mouth. 

You fought harder this time as you started bobbing around him. Cheeks hollowed and chin drowning in your own saliva. You took him as far as you could, into the tightness of your throat until he was the one choking. Then you rested back for a second to suck on his tip, before shoving him back down as far as he’d go.

“No, no, no,” Harry stressed, attempting to pull away.

But it was already too late, and a smug satisfaction washed over your entire being as he began to come. You gripped onto his legs to keep his cock inside your mouth. Again he only had your shoulders to keep him upright as his hips instinctively bucked in shallow movements with each wave of his release. He tasted unlike anything before. It had this addicting quality to it and part of you would be happy if he just never stopped coming.

But he did, eventually, and once he was out of your mouth you swallowed down his release and made a show of licking your lips afterward.

“Are you okay?” You asked once you could finally talk.

He looked spent already, but you weren’t going to let him give up that easily. His hair was all in his face, cheeks stained pink, and his skin was shiny in places that hadn’t been considered obscene until this very moment. Harry looked like he was about to film an advert for a new ‘fragrance for men’. Just like everyone else, whatever he was selling, you’d probably buy it.

“‘M bloody wonderful.” The way he spoke had a weightlessness to it, and you wanted to float away on it.

You rose to your feet, leaving a path of kisses up his torso as you went. Havoc wrecked up your insides as you did so. You’d had a piece of him already, but that damn body… enough to send the calmest of women to an institution.

Harry captured your mouth the second he could and absolutely ravaged you. He was all encompassing, like nothing else in the world mattered. Right then, it didn’t. Only his kisses and the hunger he gave off with them.

You found yourself with your back against the door, Harry’s body heavy against you. His weight caused your insides to light up all over again, your centre preparing for pleasure.

“Harry, I need you in me,” you spoke against his kisses, clawing at his skin to keep him closer, keep the fire in your body alive and burning.

“I need in you,” He agreed, his attack on your mouth not letting up.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I’m trying to remember what I did with the condoms I had in my suitcase.”

Inexplicably, you started giggling. It amused you, that this man who could seem so suave and smooth and charming could lose something like his condoms.

When your head tilted to the side, he took advantage of your exposed neck, delicately sucking his way down and back to your cleavage. He took you out of your clothes until you were completely bare, finally in matching states of undress.

“I’ve got some in my handbag,” you managed to say on a heavy pant.”

Harry growled, and the noise shot straight to your clit, “Don’t move.”

He yanked himself away from you and marched across the room to your bag, where it sat on the floor by the bed.

“Inside zip pocket,” you told him, teeth nibbling at your lower lip.

He found the strip and tore one off, then ripped it open and put it on without any form of hesitation. He took a brief second to study your nakedness, still standing with your back against the door, and then he was crowding you again, leaving you with barely room to breathe. Yet taking breath was the last thing you cared about.

“God, you’re pretty,” he sighed as he shoved his face into your neck. His lips lightly nipped and sucked away at your skin, while his hands roamed your naked body.

His dick was hard again, pressing against your stomach, and your sex was rioting with impatience. You combed your fingers through his hair, tugging every now and then on the soft curls until he shivered. He lifted your leg at the thigh and hooked it over his hip, and like he just couldn’t wait any longer, he thrust his length inside you at once. 

You choked on the breath you were intaking at the sheer fullness of him, and now it was your turn to bury your face in his neck. He smelled like sea water and sweat and it made a heady, lusty scent. 

He spoke your name like a prayer, “fuck. You feel… I don’t even know. Fucking marvellous.”

You gripped him tighter as he started thrusting, heavy and hard. “You’re so big, Harry.”

Your backside hit the door, and while it was a little painful and might well bruise, it actually made it all the better. You felt like an animal, matching his hip movements one by one. 

It felt like he was trying to prove something, and even though he really didn’t need to, you weren’t going to tell him that. You liked this side of him - this real maleness that you hadn’t really seen from him beside his occasional pigheadedness. And it was only occasional because he only showcased it with you. With everyone else he was a god damn peach. Maybe he’d be a peach with you now, too, with less of the bravado. But you’d like to see this side of him more, where he had nothing and yet everything to prove, and a driving desire to prove it.

He was starting to pound faster and faster, grunting and groaning. Sweat rolled down his back and it was oddly stimulating. You traced your fingertips down his spine and back up, then gripped his face and brought his mouth to yours for a mind-bending snog.

If his mouth was heaven, his dick was fucking ecstasy.

Everything about him worked together to provide the ultimate pleasure and you were centimetres from falling off the damn train.

“Harry, touch my clit.” You ordered.

He growled again and it was utterly delicious. He stroked his hand from your hip to your cunt and started stroking that sensitive nub in such a stark contrast to how he was fucking into you that you reached a new level of overwhelm.

“Fuck, Harry!” You squealed.

“You are,” pant, “insatiable.”

He dropped his mouth to the top of your breast and sucked - hand, cock and mouth all moving together in sync to bring you to climax.

Stilted, you groaned at the way your orgasm washed over you like a debilitating blaze. Harry’s body held you prisoner against the door, and you knew from his shudder that he was coming too. Hard, if his teeth against your shoulder blade was any indication.

“It’s not like this,” He said after a moment of quiet. 

You were boneless sandwiched between his hard front and the door. If he moved, you’d collapse. “What?”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you, slow and sweet, “It’s not like this. Ever. I feel different with you.”

A thick lump formed in your throat, and you forced it down with a swallow. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t know what he meant. You knew exactly what he meant. You were no stranger to sex, but it hadn’t ever been like that before. Something about being with Harry lit you up on the inside like a firework display on bonfire night. But for some reason, you couldn’t put that into words for him. So you did the only thing you could and kissed him back.

You wound up in the shower together, going for another round before cleaning each other up. It was more delicate than the first time. You took your time, and then when you were both spent, you finally stepped out, clean and sated.

Harry wiped you down with the towel first, taking extra care to make sure you were completely dry. Watching him care for you that way did terrible things to your insides. Especially the vital organ in your ribcage. He’d gone from carnal to tender in a matter of seconds and that familiar feeling of whiplash latched onto you again.

You clung to the sink while he towelled himself down, watching his every move. Admiring him. There was no animosity left in you to harbour towards this man. It would be a waste to do so. You’d hold onto it for someone else, someone more worthy. For now, Harry had earned something else. Something sweeter.

He took your face between his hands when he was done, appreciating you. His thumbs stroked over your cheeks. You took a gentle hold of his wrists, keeping your eyes on his.

“Don’t go to the bungalow.”

You bit your lip at his request. Knowing what you knew now, you’d have never booked it if you had any slight inkling that this might’ve happened. And by ‘this’ you obviously meant sleeping with him. Up until 2 days ago the possibility was at around 0.01%. 

But you had booked it to safeguard yourself, and paid a hefty deposit. You weren’t going to get that back now.

“Don’t worry about the money, just… stay with me.” He pleaded.

“But I am worried about the money.” You admitted. “People like me have to be. I’ve already been frivolous enough trying to get here.”

“I’ll give it to you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

He frowned, and his hands fell away. You suddenly felt cold, craving his warmth and his touch again. You closed the space between you and rested your palms against his naked chest.

“I can’t just let something like that go, Harry. And I’ve never taken well to people just offering me things. Especially not money. I have to earn it. It’s not personal, I promise.”

“I just wanted to do something for you.”

“I know. But you don’t have to.”

He studied you for a moment, eyes searching your face. “What if I came with you?”

You chuckled. “Okay, keen bean. I think you need to slow down. Think about it for a minute.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going away.” You reminded him. “I’ll be half an hour down the road, that’s it.”

“Too far.”

You shook your head and dropped your forehead to his chest. “It’s not really.”

“I don’t want you staying somewhere alone.”

“If you weren’t here then I would’ve spent 4 weeks up here alone. With only badgers for company.”

“Compromise with me a little? Please?”

You sighed, and he wrapped himself around you so that you were cocooned in his hold.

“You go to the AirBnB, but I come with you. If you won’t let me pay for it, let me come with you.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to let it go unless you gave him something, you said, “I’ll think about it.”

~

The next three days were utter bliss.

The first day, you barely managed to get out of bed. From the moment you woke up to the second you fell asleep, Harry was on you, touching you, affecting you. It was beautiful and fulfilling and also exhausting. He wouldn’t leave you alone, but you didn’t mind. You were enjoying this side of him. You were enjoying this side of you - the one that didn’t constantly feel tense or on edge or irritated. You were happy.

The second day, you spent it in the car, just driving around the Highlands with no planned route and no destination. He held your hand tightly in his while you explored mountain passes and vast lochs and deep forests. You stopped at a roadside cafe and had quite possibly the best gluten free sandwich of your life - which you were surprised was even an option in the depths of nowhere - and then carried on to another quiet pass where you had some wildly incredible sex in the front seat of the car. It was almost midnight by the time you got home, and the shitty three-quarter bed in the cabin had never felt so comfortable. It was made all the better with Harry’s body wrapped around you.

On the third and final day, Harry had gone into full wooing mode. Every single part of the day felt like an attempt to bring you on side, whether it be staying at the cabin or allowing him to come to the bungalow with you. He started with a wake up call that involved his glorious face between your legs, followed by a fully gluten free breakfast spread. After a joint shower wherein he shagged you senseless against the tile wall from behind, he dragged you out into the perfectly mild Highland day for a hike up the nearest - small - mountain. You were back by lunchtime for a picnic by the lake and a dip in the water, with less chasing this time and more paddling. Then, after a nap in the cabin that resulted in yet more sex, he took you into the village for dinner at the nicest restaurant it had. It was no Nobu - not that you’d ever eaten there - but it was good food and perfect company.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you said to that paparazzi that followed us last week?” Harry asked when our dessert was taken away. He had a hand settled on the base of his wine glass, the candle on the table flickering so that light danced across his handsome face in odd ways. It only pronounced the sparkle in his eye.

You licked your lips, fighting off your smile. “Probably not.”

“Please? I feel like I deserve to know, given it could come back and bite me in the bum.”

You giggled at his use of the word ‘bum’. It was like his mother was in the room with you. “It won’t.”

“And how are you so certain, darling?” He leaned forward over the table, still entertained.

“Because, baby, it is literally impossible for him to do so.”

“Care to explain?” He rested his chin on a closed fist, smirking.

With a sigh, you leaned sideways and fished around in your bag until you found what you were looking for. Between your index and middle finger, you flashed the small SD card that the man had reluctantly handed over to you all those days ago.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Wow.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How’d you manage that?”

You thought back to your conversation outside the supermarket and let out a small laugh. “Er… I might have threatened to get the supermarket security involved for harassing customers, and then followed it with another threat to break his fancy camera and shove the SD card into some intimate places if he didn’t give it to me.”

Harry was staring at you like you were a mad woman. Maybe you were - you always did have a short fuse. “You said that?”

“Yes.”

He managed a blink. “You said that for me?”

“Yeah…”

He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his beardy chin. “Which intimate places?”

You smiled, “Well, something that size wouldn’t have done much damage up his arsehole, would it?”

Harry grinned, shaking his head, “You’re amazing.”

“No. I just think everyone deserves a holiday without having the fucking press on their back for every second of it.”

He leaned forward again and grabbed your hand, littering it with kisses, “Amazing.”

“I’m sure you’d do the same if the roles were reversed.”

“I’d like to think I would, yes.”

Your hands tangled together in the middle of the table, and you traced the creases between them with your free hand. You took a deep breath as your thoughts rolled ahead to tomorrow and the decision you had to make. “Harry, I want to make a deal with you.”

His brow furrowed. “Okay…”

“I want to go to the bungalow tomorrow alone.” He opened his mouth to object, but you squeezed his hand and shook your head. “I arranged this time away from home so I could get away from people and out of my head for a bit. And that’s not me saying I’ve had a shit time with you - I absolutely haven’t. But I need some space. I didn’t expect you when I turned up here and I’ve been kind of derailed from all the things I wanted to do.”

“That doesn’t sound like a deal.” He argued.

“That’s because I wasn’t finished.”

Even in the glow of the candlelight it was obvious he was blushing, “Sorry.”

Your lips twitched with a smile. “That being said, I know as soon as we’re apart I know I’ll miss you. Ludicrous as that sounds, because a week ago I still kinda hated you, but it’s the truth. I will miss you. I know what you’ve been doing the past three days and I’d be a big fat liar if I said it wasn’t working.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” He said with feigned ambivalence.

“Yeah, sure.” You rolled your eyes, but now your smile was really helpless. “Anyway. I want a week, Harry. That’s it. Just one week to myself, so I can work on my deadline and actually get something done. Because I’ll be honest, as soon as I realised you were here that night I got here, I kind of forgot I had work to do at all.”

He looked to be turning everything over in his head. “One week?”

“Yep. Just seven days. And then we can spend my last week here together and you can do whatever you want with me. Does that sound fair?”

He pursed his lips. “You go home in two weeks?”

“I do. Have the train ticket to prove it, too.”

“You can’t stay longer?”

“My life isn’t that flexible, Harry.”

“No, I know.” He took a breath, staring at our hands, still intertwined on the table. “Do you still split your time between London and home?”

“I do. Mostly home, but my place in London gets enough use. When work needs me to come into the office, it’s convenient. I’ve been fighting it for a while, but I think I might have to move to London permanently eventually. They’re discouraging working from home.”

He grunted like he disapproved of it. “Okay… I will let you have your week so we can have our week afterward. And I’m coming home with you when you have to leave.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” You asked over a laugh. “Thank you for letting me know.”

He snorted. “This is my off-season. And while I thought I’d be spending it relatively alone, and definitely not with the woman who’s hated me for fuck knows how long, it turns out I actually… quite like that woman. When she doesn’t hate me so much.”

You lean forward, “Quite like her, do you?”

“I do. Very fond might be a better way of putting it. So, if she’d let me, I’d like to spend my downtime with her before I bugger off for fuck knows how long to do my job. Especially if that means finally seeing her illusive house.”

“If you think she owns a house, you’ll be very disappointed when you get there.”

“Do you not own your home?”

“No, I own it. It’s just not a house.”

“Ah. Well, even still. If you’ll have me, I want to visit.”

“Can I visit you in London?”

“If you don’t, I’ll be offended.”

“Then… I think we’ve made our deal.”

“I think we have.” Harry grinned. “Should we go back to celebrate?”

“Celebrate?” You had to laugh, “It’s not graduation, H.”

“It kind of is. Graduation from singledom.”

Something stirred in your belly, and not in a bad way. “Oh.”

“You okay with that?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Mhmm, I’m okay with that.”

“Good.” He pressed his lips to your hand. “I think we should fuck around with Holly and your brother, too.”

“Oo, how?”

“I have a few ideas…”

~

Four Weeks Later

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You watched as a delighted squeal ripped out of your best friend, her hands clasped against her chest. Beautiful Holly beamed, her gaze touching on every single one of her invited surprise guests. “Oh my God!”

Your brother, ever the sap when it came to his wife - and rightly so - had organised a surprise birthday party for her 30th. You all knew, no matter how much she claimed she didn’t want anything special, that all of her favourite people in one room would mean the most to her. She’d been taken out for a birthday brunch by Harry so that you and your brother could turn their home into something fit for a party. 

Streamers hung from the light fittings and curtain rails. Banners were stuck to the walls. Party poppers had burst and sailed through the air the second the front door had been opened. Everyone donned some form of ridiculous party hat. Someone had put a tiara on Holly’s head. The kitchen was piled with food and drink. All guests had been instructed to arrive at 2:30pm for Holly’s return at 3 o’clock. Harry had been placed under strict instruction not to bring her home before then if he valued his life. If Holly’s day wasn’t perfect, he’d have your brother to answer to.

Harry caught your gaze across the room while everyone else corralled the birthday girl into their embraces. It held for longer than anyone else would expect of you, and apparently your brother noticed.

“Come help me in the kitchen a second,” he tugged on your wrist.

You looked away, following him to the back of the house. You fixed yourself a drink, the first alcoholic one of the day now that the guest of honour had arrived, and sunk it in one; a reward for pulling off a surprise party for the nosiest woman on the planet. You poured another, and then one for Holly, too.

You tried to slip away into the front room, but were stopped midway by a tall, foreboding figure.

“What are you doing?” The question came out a little snappier than intended, but you blamed it on nearly spilling Holly’s drink than being practically ploughed over by a certain someone.

Harry raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ve come to get Holly a drink. That alright?”

I kept my expression neutral and held out the plastic cup. “Here you go - Holly’s drink. I’ll even let you take the credit for it.”

“I daren’t give you the satisfaction.” Harry scoffed.

“Trust me, Harry, nothing you could do would ever satisfy me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Your brother muttered.

Harry shot him a glance as he took the cup from you, purposefully brushing his fingers against yours, “Thank you so much.”

You flipped him the bird as he stalked off and rejoined your brother at the counter preparing the food for a barbecue.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you two to try and get on for Holly’s sake. Just for one fucking day.”

You bit your tongue and hoped it passed as ire, “It’s not my fault he’s a raging prick.”

“That’s a stretch and you know it.”

Ignoring him, you worked on slicing carrots, celery, cucumber and peppers into slices for crudités. Was it really a birthday party if there were no crudités?

The answer is no.

“Alright,” your brother called across the packed room of people, “five minutes and the food is going on! Can I have a volunteer for help with the barbecue?” Holly started to raise her hand, but he slapped it back down, “Not you, gorgeous.”

Someone coughed “Simp”, and you had to cover a laugh.

“Alright,” Holly’s dad heaved himself up and out of his favourite armchair, “I’ll help. The student needs a master, after all.”

Holly rolled her eyes, but you knew she liked it when your brother and her dad found another way to bond.

When conversations picked back up you scurried off to the bathroom for a breather. Even though it was still early, the number of people stuffing themselves into the frankly small living room had you feeling claustrophobic. It wasn’t like you to feel that way often, but the charade you were putting on was making you nervous. You never got nervous, but lying wasn’t in your armoury, because you were actually generally shit at it.

You thought of Harry and his quiet - and sometimes not-so-quiet - confidence. He pulled off the hatred with ease. He had three films and a post-credit scene as experience for that. Or maybe he wasn’t acting at all… 

No. If last night’s bedroom activities were anything to go by, that couldn’t be true.

You washed your hands and splashed some water on your face to cool yourself down, and then let yourself out of the downstairs bathroom. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you found Harry on the other side of the door waiting.

“Fuck me,” you hissed.

Harry opened his mouth, no doubt with some witty retort that he’d already ‘done that’, but he was cut off by someone else stealing your attention.

Holly barrelled into you while yelling your name, dragging you away in a hug that was more like a headlock. “You are so naughty doing this! I said I didn’t want a party!”

“Yes, but look how happy you are,” You grinned at her. It took absolutely everything in you to not turn around and look at the handsome man who seemed to always linger in the right places.

“I am… I’m so happy, thank you.” She gave a content sigh. “The only thing that would make this better is if you and Harry could even just pretend to be amicable for like, five minutes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re super amicable all the time,” You said in the most blasé tone you could muster.

“Yeah right.”

“We were amicable at that dinner with your Nan.”

“That was for her sake.”

Something sharp pinched at your heart. She thought you didn’t try for her. If only she knew. But you had a part to play and you didn’t want to back out of it now. You were sticking to the plan. “I am not the problem. I’m very amenable.”

Holly frowned, the expression fraught with disapproval.

You sighed, “Sorry. Force of habit. It’s easy to blame someone you hate for your own misgivings.” Using the word hate in reference to Harry felt so wrong. Do it for the charade your brain screamed.

“Okay, enough. Maybe one day your brother and I won't have to separate you and Harry before you murder each other, but clearly today is not that day.”

Give it an hour or two and you might reconsider that statement you thought. “Yeah, maybe.”

For the next while you entertained Holly and avoided Harry while constantly throwing glances whenever you felt his presence. And you always felt his presence, as did everyone else in the room. There were clearly people here who didn’t expect him to show because they kept staring. You wished you could stare without such shame. You wished for other things, too, like to go over to wherever he was and just slip into his arms, or hold his hand, or kiss his mouth. But you did no such thing. You kept to yourself.

After the barbecue food had been eaten, your brother brought a huge cake out, homemade by your mother, with 30 candles on the top, all lit. Everyone sang Happy Birthday to Holly and watched her blow them out in three big huffs, and then it was taken inside to be cut up.

“I’m sorry it’s not gluten free, baby,” your mum sighed as slices of gooey chocolate goodness got passed around to all the guests.

“How many times have we had this conversation?” You chuckled, squeezing her into your side. “Gluten free cakes have the consistency of sawdust. They are shite. I’ll survive without cake.”

“Literally.” Ah, a rare coeliac joke.

You snorted. “Exactly.”

“Anyway,” she threw a surreptitious glance around the garden and then lowered her voice, “how long are you and Harry going to wind up your brother and Holly by pretending you still hate each other?”

“They’ll know later. Soon. It’s getting too hard considering they both just let themselves into our houses nowadays and they’re likely to catch us… in the middle of something.”

“Smart choice, poppet.”

“This is just payback for meddling.”

“Yes, but it worked out, didn’t it?”

You grunted unattractively. “Shush. We are not letting them believe they’re responsible for our relationship.”

“Are they not, though?”

“Of course not!” Alright, maybe a little. But you were never going to let them believe it.

You scanned the crowd again and caught the better half of your relationship sneaking inside. The urge to go after him and lock yourselves away in a bedroom became stifling, but somehow you refrained.

Twenty minutes later everyone was gathered around the birthday girl again and watching her open presents like it was Christmas fucking morning. You were sitting on the arm of the sofa watching her with a fond smile. Harry had tucked himself into a corner again like a fucking bat, but he wasn’t alone. He’d been talking to another girl for a while. You didn’t know her, although I recognised her from Holly and your brother’s wedding. Holly’s cousin, maybe? Anyway, she was… keen. Yep, definitely keen given her invested posture.

You tried not to give a shit, or at least pretend you didn’t. But you definitely did give a shit.

“Oo, what’s this?” Holly’s question piqued your curiosity, distracting you from staring at Harry.

You noted the envelope in her hands, unmarked, and smirked. Chancing a glance at Harry, he was already looking at you with the very same look on his face. 

Holly plucked the card out and read the note inside, her intrigued expression morphing into more confusion. Glancing around the room, gaze visibly lingering on Harry, she brought the card closer to her chest so that no one else could see, and peeked at the photo you knew was taped to the inside. She pressed the card to her chest and searched the room for you, eyes narrowing into slits when she found you.

“What is it, babe?” Your brother asked, trying to peel the card off her.

She smacked his hand away, “It’s a… gift voucher.”

“What for?”

The look she gave him was conspiratorial, “I’ll tell you later.”

“Bet it’s for Lovehoney.” Someone joked, the same person who called your brother a simp earlier on.

She snapped the card shut and slipped it back into the envelope, moving onto the next gift. Her demeanour had changed considerably. Holly was decidedly less excited about her other presents now, and she kept tossing glares between you and Harry. He was clearly fighting off laughter, and you pretended to be unaffected.

When her last present was revealed and she’d said her thank yous to everyone, Holly stood and primly excused herself to the bathroom. Not thirty seconds later, you were summoned to the bedroom upstairs by a text in all capitals.

You made a quiet escape and made your way up to the room you knew your brother shared with his wife and slipped in, Harry not long behind you. Holly was standing in the middle of the room with her arms folded and a deep scowl on her face. Your brother was there too, looking perturbed.

“What’s going on?” He asked, throwing a worried glance at his wife.

“Excellent question.” Holly snapped. “I want to know the exact same thing.”

Harry shut the door behind him, and then silently handed her a stack of more photos we’d printed on Polaroids, held together with an elastic band.

Holly got straight to work sifting through the pile, your brother’s gaze fixed on them over her shoulder. There were easily 30 photos there - in the lake, on walks, sharing ice creams, sunbathing, cuddled together on the sofa, kissing. It was a lot of selfies, something Harry refused to smile for, and it only made you smile bigger and laugh harder. But it had been Harry’s idea to immortalise the beginning of your relationship on that vacation, and it had been your idea to give the photos to Holly as a birthday present, because you knew it would make her happy. Her punishment for getting involved was waiting to find out.

While they studied your loose holiday album, Harry leaned against the door and tugged you back by the belt loops on your jeans so that your back fell against his front. You melted into him like butter, shuddering when his breath fanned across the top of your head. He placed a subtle kiss to your crown.

“I fucking knew it!” Holly squealed, taking a look at the photos again.

“Knew what?” You demanded.

“I knew putting you in that cabin together would give us results.” She grinned.

“Told you.” Harry muttered.

You shook your head, folding your arms. “Unbelievable.”

“How long did it take?” She was practically vibrating, bouncing with excitement. Your brother had to put a hand on her shoulder to keep her still.

“How long did what take?”

“To realise you like each other!”

“A couple of weeks?”

She squeaked again, clapping her hands. “Can I keep these?” She waggled the pictures in front of us.

“That’s what they’re for, Hols. We’ve got our own copies.”

“Yay!”

“Holly,” Harry said sternly.

She stopped fidgeting and looked at him with a wide-eyed gaze. You’d never heard him use that tone with her before. Only you.

“Please don’t meddle with my relationships again. We figured you were the reason we were both up there at the same time, but this didn’t come without a hitch. We still bickered and said some nasty shit to each other.”

“And I whacked my head the first morning.” You huffed.

Harry ran a comforting knuckle up and down your spine. “Also we’re not letting you take responsibility for the result.”

“Yeah, but we all know it never would’ve happened if I hadn’t meddled.” She was still grinning.

You made a contradictory noise, “We don’t know anything, actually. But anyway, we have some ground rules.”

“Don’t be boring.”

“We’re not, Hols,” Harry said softly.

“What are they?” Your brother asked.

You and Harry laid down the law - that mostly involved not saying anything for a while to anyone but family so that you could enjoy your relationship without the media being nosey. You’d finally found your footing with one another, and you didn’t need tabloids and paparazzi complicating your happy medium just yet. For now, you wanted to just enjoy one another. You’d had the same conversation with your parents.

“This is your birthday present, by the way.” You whispered as the four of you trundled back downstairs.

“It’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had.” You’d genuinely never seen your best friend smile so much.

Harry reached over for a high five, and you didn’t hesitate to slap it. “Nailed it.”

“Hey,” your brother sauntered into the kitchen, “you guys want ice cream?”

You and Harry shared a look, and burst into laughter, because ever since that day outside the cabin, ice cream always ended up being used as a form of foreplay.

“No, I’m good.” Harry grinned.

“Yeah, no thanks.” You shook your head, still fighting off laughter.

“Are we missing something?” Your brother looked bewildered.

“Nothing for you to worry about.” Harry slapped his shoulder.

Later that night, when the buzz of alcohol was starting to wear off and the comfort of a sofa called to you, Harry took out the tub of mint choc chip from the freezer and spoon-fed you until you were so tired you couldn’t open your mouth. 

“Tired?” He hummed.

“Shattered,” you yawned.

“You want me to put it away…?” He meant the ice cream tub.

You tilted your head all the way back to look at him, his face lit by only a warm glow of a candle. “Do you want to put it away?”

“No.”

“What do you want to do, then?”

He licked his lips and traced a pinky finger down your bare arm, “I want to lie you down on my bed and drip it down your chest, and then lick you from your throat to your thighs.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

~~~

Talk to me?

[youhideastar]

WujiWatch: CQL Rewatch Episode 22

The first few times you watch the soup scene in this episode, it’s hard to look past the disaster-het-ness of it all (plus the sexy-mad Wei Wuxian, obvs). But this scene also has a lot to say about my beloved Luo Qingyang a.k.a. Mianmian. Maybe you remember the central misunderstanding arising from Jiang Yanli asking a Jin servant named A-Yuan to deliver her soup to Jin Zixuan. If so, you’re remembering it wrong: Mianmian came up with that scheme, after Jiang Yanli originally tried to deliver the soup herself. Like in Mianmian’s first appearance, at the Caiyi inn, she feels bad for one of the Jiangs and so tries to go around Jin Zixuan to help out, hoping he won’t find out about it. In both instances, unfortunately, he does. (But you gotta wonder how many times she does get away with it…)

She also appears—or her shadow does—in the flashback to the confrontation between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli, when Jin Zixuan accuses Jiang Yanli of disrespecting A-Yuan because she’s common-born. I don’t mean Mianmian’s literal shadow. I mean the shadow cast by the question: “Who taught highborn snob Jin Zixuan to recognize and call out classism?” It sure as shit wasn’t his parents. (Yes, yes, I know he was wrong about the classism in this instance, but his heart was in the right place.) I suppose he could have multiple outspoken common-born friends with a keen eye for injustice. But I doubt it. Those folks seem pretty hard to find in the cultivation world.

And Mianmian is Jin Zixuan’s friend, not just his subordinate – albeit a friend who has to curtsy every time she greets him. All of this soup backstory is only aired in the first place because Mianmian marches right into Jin Zixuan’s tent for the express purpose of explaining to him—in front of a bunch of other people—exactly how he’s made an ass of himself. And he lets her! Then—in an act of incredible bravery—she shields him with her body when Wei Wuxian attacks, even after seeing Wei Wuxian wipe the floor with six other Jin disciples just a second before. I guess you could say she does it because he’s the sect heir and she’s his subordinate (possibly head disciple? unclear. I think we all know Jin Zixun is a nepo baby). But nobody else—not even Jiang Yanli—is rushing to place their body between Jin Zixuan’s dumb ass and the terrifying weapon that is Wei Wuxian.

One last thing to love about Mianmian from the soup scene and then I promise I’m done. When Mianmian is describing Jiang Yanli’s soup gifts, she notes that the first two bowls of soup Yanli makes are for her little brothers—and when Mianmian says this, she uses the word “didi” (brother) for both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, as opposed to using “didi” for Jiang Cheng and “shidi” (sect brother) for Wei Wuxian. That makes Mianmian, as far as I know, the first (and maybe only) person, other than Jiang Yanli herself, to call Wei Wuxian Jiang Yanli’s brother – in other words, the first and only outsider to acknowledge that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli are truly family to one another, not just co-disciples of the same sect. In short: she’s the best.