#AND a small jamaica obv

[tiberius-kirks]

my god the healing power of a farmers market

[ceexb]

Hobie Head cannons of him in Jamaica

Summary: Hobies gf who left Jamaica when she was younger to London.(Hobie has a black Jamaican girlfriend that takes him to the islands.)

Word count: 1,080

Parings: Hobie and black reader.

Warnings:-minors dni

Afab reader

mentions of weed language,smut,bitting,fingering and kissing.

(I’m American born,so I’ll give my knowledge as best as I can. also it’s a stereotype that all Jamaicans smoke weed which obv isn’t true and just a generalization)

Reblog 😋😗 and like

Master list

-Upon learning that you plan to bring him to Jamaica to meet your family and explore the country, Hobie's excitement soared, and he eagerly asked about the departure date.

-Given that Hobies from the UK where there is a significant Jamaican population, Hobie has some familiarity with Jamaican culture.

-“so when we leaving baby” jumping up and down

-“next week” you say

-he’ll be rushing to his room to pack the most sluttiest outfits that accentuate his skinny waist.

- I don't think Hobie would even consider taking the plane to get there,because he has a boat that he can use to travel across the seas.

- However, you get seasick and your afraid of the ocean.So you would prefer to take the plane instead.

-you guys would spend like the first days of the trip in a villa and the second half visiting family and showing him around parishes in Jamaica.

-you would take him to like the country side

-not the touristy Kingston side where a lot of the up town and yt folks be at.

-I mean the country with Goats,modest homes and mango trees,Homes nestled on the hillsides of the mountains.

-like he deff would be one with nature behind your childhood home,easily bonding with your uncles like their old acquaintances.

-he’ll be listening to some reggae (maybe some cronix x 🤭🫡)

and smoking some good ganja and chopping sugar cane.

-You will approach him from the rear entrance, carrying the fruit that your mother had prepared for him and instructed you to bring.

-Although you intended to check on him, you observe him settling in comfortably and making himself feel at home.

-you walk up to an even more chill hobie,eyes low and red just in his swimming trunks .

-His shirt buttons loose revealing his abs with his lips sucking on some sugar cane.

-watching as the juice drips down his chin but him quickly catching it with his tongue making slurp noises.

-it’ll probably give you flash backs from previous nights when you were making out back of your legs hitting the bed and pushed to lay under him only later to be quivering in a puddle of your own mess and his head diving back between dem thighs as you grip and pull on his wicks.

“Fuck..hobie it feels soo good”

“Yeah I bet it does” and he lifts his head up to peer at you then down to leave bites on the skin of your inner thighs that will leave bruises for the next days of the trip….

(woooh 🫢😋 I’m going feral by the thought)

-Y’all know that little river raft trip that people go on in Jamaica ?

-yeahhh you guys would go on one of those but knowing hobie he wouldn’t let a random, massage and touch on your body.

-It's like the experience where individuals embark on a small raft crafted from bamboo, bound together with ropes, enjoying the serene atmosphere as you drift along a river. And During this journey,you receive massages and feel the soothing vibes.

-If you were to partake in such an adventure with Hobie, he wouldn't allow just anyone to massage and touch your body randomly.

-…”And they basically do like massages”

“🤨Touching on my girl? Ina bathing suit ??

yeahh nah I’ll do it”

(He’s possessive but In a non toxic attractive way)

-He’d take the lotion staring at the guy side eyeing him the whole time.

-As he kneels down and begins applying pressure with squeezing motions onto the various layers of your muscles.

-Then there's the guy, who awkwardly stands there staring 🧍🏿‍♂️🏞️

-Hobes, being the effortlessly cool type, possesses the ability to seamlessly blend in regardless of the country he finds himself in; he can easily adjust and adapt.

-hes more of a yardie than you,speaking better patois and shit.

-And Having a fluent convo with your family

-"How did you become so fluent in Patois, babe? I didn't even teach you. It's even better than mine."

-Given his personality, he would likely wear a cocky smirk, shrug casually, and lean back in the white party chair, with his hands behind his head.

"It's just a natural instinct. better start practicing," he would say, pointing jokingly to a "Patois for Dummies" book as you stomp away in response.

(Idk if that book exists but oh well🤷🏾‍♀️)

-yo, I could just imagine you guys in the personal pool of a villa getting nasty in the pool then kissing all the way to the bed,water dripping messing up the floor of the room and hobie falling needy on top of you,panting impatiently slipping your panties to the side to finger you.

-Then the next day acting like nothing happened.

- Once you bring him to your childhood home, both of you would be exhausted from a long day of driving from the villa,so you would go straight to sleep upon arrival.

- The next morning, you would wake up alone in a bed,putting on a robe, and making your way to the kitchen. In the kitchen around the corner,you would hear the faint sound of laughter and the voices of your mother and him.

- I have a strong feeling that your mother would adore him, especially when in the kitchen together.

- I have confidence in his cooking skills; I can already envision him preparing a bowl of peanut porridge.

-He’ll be like “I think they like me 😗”

-“Yeah a little bit too much” murmuring under your breath jealous

“huh what was that” he goes.

his hand on the shell of his ear hearing what you said just wanting you to repeat it. so he can rub it in.

-“Nothing. hmm”

Arms crossed stopping off again

-“Don’t be jealous love,cause your parents love me more…!”

Yelling as you walk away.

-then after days of exploring you guys being driven to the airport and his mom kissing him on both checks wishing him to come back to visit next time.

“Come back soon alright?”

————-//—————-//————-//—————//————//———-//————//————-///————//———-//———-///————-//———-///———-//——///

(I really hate this post ,but it’s been sitting in my drafts for far too long)

[female-buckets]

Who’s the fourth active couple? The other three are obvs Vanderquigs, AT and DB, Jas and Natisha, so who am I missing? Thnx 🧡💕

There's a new secret couple in Dallas lol

The superstar guard. And the gorgeous 6'4" small forward. And they are very very very cute. I'm a huge fan of each of them individually. So when I got wind of their little thing, I thought it was just wishful thinking on my part.

But they went on vacation in Jamaica at the exact same time. They were in Turkey together for several weeks, too. They spend more time together than they spend with the rest of their teammates. There's a few social media exchanges between them that are really quite obvious.

Anyway, they're private for now. And they'll probably continue to be private for another season. Most basketball couples like to keep it private for at least 1 season, sometimes 3 seasons. Or in one case 7+ seasons lol

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

Submitted:

Last week was a dumpster fire kind of week, so I distracted myself by finishing FF before I had to return it to library.

Some thoughts: - The prologue was their engagement photocall; where Meghan was the confident one who comforted the nervous Harry before they faced the press. Intriguing scene; Harry who had known the royal rota for a long time was the nervous one? Sure, Megs. The prologue also said that Omid first met Meghan in 2015 in Toronto fashion event -All along the chapters of their relationships, reading between the lines: Harry liked & didn’t mind all those Insta posts. After they were outed, there were convos with royal aides about where/when/how to go public, H&M’s suggestions were discussed & refused until Dec ‘16 when a pap got their photo because they decided to walk out of their car to the theatre. Obvs, this was pure coincidence, as was the Jamaica photos. Meghan was painted as comfortable & knowledgeable about the press, including media attention resulting from dating the son of one of the most famous woman in the world & a member of the most famous royal family. It was KP who’s not ready for this kind of attention; because most KP staff came after Will & Kate wedding and they were not there in the crazy days of Waity Katie. The narrative: all the crazy media attention was because of Meghan, and KP was just not ready to deal with it. - Advice from Skippy & William were actually the same: slow down. But Harry of course took it like they told him to break up with her. Both advice came after Skippy’s wedding, I wonder what exactly happened in Jamaica? - They leased the Oxfordshire place before the wedding & thought to buy it (before the pap photos), and it looked like they spent most of their time there (somebody really didn’t like Nott Cottage) - Justice for Nott Cottage: first, it was cozy & cute. Then, when Meghan moved in: it was small, they had to use 1 of the rooms for her clothes, so small!! After the wedding: cramp & uncomfortable - Narrative about Meghan after the engagement: successfully hit the ground running with compliment from royal aides, until the Markles & Ninaki derailed things with their stories. Meghan was disappointed at them, but super mad with the press for publishing stories & with the palace because they couldn’t stop it / wouldn’t comment. Narrative after the wedding: Meghan was superbly received by the Queen & Prince Charles & Camilla (implied better than Kate), followed by flawless engagements & Aussie tour, until Thomas Markle derailed things again with his interview (that’s why she sent him the letter) and all those pesky leaks that started when Melissa quit -Meghan realy, really didn’t like all the criticisms about her pregnancy appearances (clothes & bump holding).I think it bothered her so much that she stopped public appearances in March, even though her due date was April 28. IIRC, this made the media frenzy because people thought her actual due date was in the middle of April -Archie was born 1 week after the due date. Home birth was considered, I would argue even that home birth was the actual plan until late in pregnancy (justice for Rebecca English & her excellent sources). Her OBGYN was a Countess

-Palace aides, including Sara Latham, didn’t know anything until 4 hours after Archie was born. Then Harry insisted that he didn’t want statement or anything, he wanted to let the public knew by himself. Basically Sara Latham had 3 hours to make the all the arrangement, no wonder the press was hella mad

-Implied about the christening:my tinhat theory is it was private because they were mad at the press about all the criticisms during pregnancy. Meghan said to a friend that she didn’t want to serve Archie in a silver platter after the press abused her so much -Apparently there was a check list in Frogmore cottage:Will & Kate visited Archie 8 days after he was born, Charles visited 3 times in the first 4 months, and the Queen visited many many times -They were thinking about renting/buying a place in London because they felt cut off from their team in BP. The precedent of course was the Cambridge with KP & Anmer Hall, LOL -There is a chapter about 'Sussex Royal’, but it was the insta acc, not the foundation, LOL. Basically the insta account was their way (esp Meghan) to have a voice again after being stiffled by the courtiers -The last chapters about the summer of private jets - Africa tour - Canada break - Sandringham summit - last engagements: basically confirmations of the stories in news (justice for all RR & their excellent sources & reporting) - The plan was to move to LA in the summer 2020, because of COVID they went to LA a week after the last engagements in UK (March 14) - Original plan for foundation was to make it have a big presence in USA, so as not to compete with other royals. I don’t know how they thought this was even possible, SMH.

Curious omission: -Nothing about Meghan’s family from Doria’s side. Like, zero mention about her black family -Only 1 line about Vogue Sept edition ('fastest selling issue ever’), and nothing about Edward Enninful -Surprisingly almost nothing about Meghan meeting Harry’s aristo circles, or them going to aristo events; and apparently no aristos (except the Van Strawberry) worthy of namedropped -Nothing about whatever was happening that they had to split the Royal Foundation -Nothing about SussexRoyal foundation, including not even a mention about the Director that the stans were most excited because she was a black woman coming from the Royal Foundation -Nothing about the nasty tweet about Archie, which was always brought up by their fans as prime example of racist abuse of H&M and how the RF didn’t do anything to defend them. I found it really strange this incident did not make it into the book, what do you think Plant? -Nothing about meeting Michelle Obama in London; or about meeting Jane Goodall -Nothing about Wimbledon incident -Suprisingly very little about the christening. They namedropped everybody; so maybe there were nobody worthy of namedropped in the christening? My tinhat theory was because there were certain requirements for godparents, probs the godparents were mostly aristo friends of Harry, not worthy of namedropped.

Sorry for this super long post Plant, just want to share my thoughts about FF.

Thank you so much, and love your blog!!

______________________________________________________________________

Thank you sos much for sending this in! I also wondered about the Vogue issue. Like the cookbook, it was treated as basically unimportant and it was one of her biggest projects.

And I also noticed how Harry’s friends kind of dropped out of sight once they’d served their purpose.As to the due date, I bet they expected the baby in April. Meghan had told everyone she would work right up to her due date, lolololol.

[nicnacsnonsense]

So right now as I sit here procrastinating on the things I’m supposed to be doing is probably a good a time as any to dump my Good Omens Jane Eyre AU thoughts on you all. (Quick side note: Aziraphale, Crowley, and Beelzebub are all female-presenting, she/her for the purposes of this AU.)

I want to start you off with a little backstory. The other day @eunyisadoran suggested to me that Gabriel and Beelzebub would make for a perfect Rochester/Jane Eyre AU. What my mouth said in response was “Sorry, I don’t really ship Ineffable Bureaucracy,” but my brain said, “Wait, shut up a second me; I can work with this.” But as I considered it I decided that while I could see Gabriel as Rochester — Gabriel isn’t someone I’d consider especially Byronic, but if you set that aside, he can still function in the story the way the character needs to — Beelzebub as Jane was not working for me at all. If Gabriel tried to pull on Bee some the shit Rochester pulled on Jane, Bee would just straight punch him in the face. By that point it was getting pretty late, so I fired a message off to Euny about how I’d do it that I’m pretty sure was supposed to be a joke at the time, but the next morning she came back to me super on board for it, so here we are.

Okay, stick with me, cause it’s going to sound weird at first, but I promise it all comes together. As I said, Gabriel as Rochester, but Jane is Aziraphale. Beelzebub is instead Bertha, Rochester’s mad wife. For Aziraphale and Gabriel’s relationship we’re going to take the things about Jane/Rochester that are a bit problematic and amplify them, while dialing down the idea of there being any genuine love there. For Aziraphale Gabriel is handsome and charming, but more importantly he holds a position of power over her, so when he starts showing an interest she subconsciously convinces herself she returns his interest. Meanwhile Gabriel is lonely and mentally exhausted and Aziraphale is emotionally easy for him. She’s attractive enough, she’s there when he wants her, goes away when he doesn’t, doesn’t ask anything of him, and is generally pretty compliant. I wouldn’t say it’s Gabriel’s intention to use Aziraphale like that, but that’s absolutely what he’s doing.

So we get to the wedding scene and the truth coming out about Bee — let’s maybe have Ligur as her brother, since in Jane Eyre Bertha is a POC — and Aziraphale leaves Thornfield. Eventually she ends up at the doorstep of the River siblings: Crowley, Shadwell (young ‘67 era Shadwell, obv, not old man Shadwell), and Anathema. (Which admittedly is a weird group of siblings. I’d probably make Anathema a half-sister, with a Puerto Rican mother.) Crowley instantly gets a massive crush on Aziraphale when Shadwell brings her in, and very quickly falls in love with her. However Crowley assumes Aziraphale couldn’t possibly love another woman, and so keeps pushing Aziraphale on Shadwell, thinking if those two get married, at least Crowley will always be able to keep Aziraphale close by. Meanwhile Aziraphale hasn’t figured out the whole “being into girls” thing yet, but knows she’s hurt by the way Crowley, who is Aziraphale’s dearest friend, keeps pushing Aziraphale away and pawning her off on her brother. Eventually Aziraphale does agree to go marry Shadwell and go to India with him because she’s convinced it her duty and she thinks it’s what Crowley wants. But at the last minute (and with some help from Anathema) Aziraphale realizes she can’t leave the person she’s in love with — her cousin Crowley. So Shadwell goes off to India on his own (and has a terrible time because we hate him), and Aziraphale and Crowley live together as wives with Anathema as their mutual best friend (aside from each other).

But we’re not nearly done yet. First we’re actually going to backtrack some to touch on some Gabriel backstory. I’ve rearranged the timeline a little to lessen the age gap between Gabriel and Aziraphale. Aziraphale can stay 18, but Gabriel I’m pushing down to late 20’s. Part of that means pushing his affair with Céline (who I think we shall leave as Céline) to before his marriage, while he was on break from university. Gabriel was not going to take her baby in — despite her claims that he is the father, he suspects the actual father was her other lover (who Gabriel didn’t know about and dumped her when he found out) Lucian. However, Gabriel’s mother found out about the whole thing and ordered him to take in the child, and Gabriel will argue with absolutely anyone except his mother. No one argues with Mrs. Rochester. No one. And that is how he ended up as the guardian of Adam, who is eight when Aziraphale is hired on as governess.

Gabriel graduates university when Adam is one, and at encouragement from his mother he goes to Jamaica to visit the Masons and potentially court their daughter Bee (apparently God just ships all the angel/demon pairings; all about that balance). They get married and then whoops, turns out “madness” runs in the family. Bee’s behavior starts to become erratic, and she begins losing touch with reality. They had back to England with hopes of better doctors and a cure, but during the voyage Bee’s symptoms continue to worsen and she becomes prone to violent outbursts. It’s so bad by the time they reach England, Gabriel ends up sneaking her into Thornfield at the dead of night. Little three year old Adam wakes up and sees this, but is told in the morning he dreamed it. He still tells the story to Aziraphale when she comes years later, but Adam tells a lot of wild stories and she assumes this is just another one of them.

Backtracking a bit, what Bee has is what we would recognize as schizophrenia and she is currently suffering from a psychotic episode (which are of course not usually violent, but in Bee’s particular case she can be). Unfortunately the doctors weren’t really familiar with that, so they just called it hysteria. It’s all those lady parts, making her crazy, as they do. Bee is prescribed with a frequent regimen of heavy doses of opium, to curb her outbursts. It does calm her down, but turns out one of the more uncommon side effects of opiates is to cause psychosis. So this medication actually exacerbates her psychosis, even if it keeps her calm. So she isn’t so much locked in the room as she is just in a constant drugged out haze — when she isn’t full-on catatonic — completely divorced from reality.

Grace Poole will be played by Madame Tracy, who I realize is pretty different from Grace in terms of personality, but I have my reasons. Tracy is the kind of person who is scatterbrained enough to occasionally forget to give Bee her medication and also kind-hearted and scatterbrained enough to sometimes deliberately skip a dose because she seemed like she was doing better, she was practically lucid today, and I really do feel she gets better quality rest when she’s not on the drugs. Those are the times Bee manages to break out, when the amount of opium in her system has dipped enough to allow her to actually get up and move around independently. Unfortunately she’s still suffering from her psychosis at these times. Mostly she just wanders around confused and getting up to small mischief — breaking things, moving things around, and the like — but she is still violent on occasion.

After Aziraphale and Gabriel’s aborted wedding and Aziraphale leaving, Gabriel snaps a little. He sends Adam away (to visit Grandma perhaps) as well as a good chunk of the servants, and then cuts off Bee’s opium. He claims he’s doing this to punish her for her part in ruining his wedding and his chance at happiness, but honestly the dude just misses his wife. Because he doesn’t see the vacant woman sitting doped up in a chair all day as his wife. At least when she’s off the opium and throwing shit it reminds him of the passion she used to have. At first it does get worse, but after a bit she starts to calm down. Tracy stays with her when she’s upset and stays calm and positive, Bee starts to get familiar with the house, less staff means she’s not running into people she doesn’t know as much. They figure out that most of her violent behavior was caused by her being confused and scared and lashing out. Then the morning she wakes up and is genuinely lucid. After 6 years, her psychotic episode is over. They conclude that while the opium was keeping her calm, it was also worsening her delusions, and resolve not to give her any ever again.

All of this about what happened after she left Aziraphale has had in a letter from Adam, written with help from Madame Tracy and his new tutor Mr. Newton Pulsifer. They have heard of Aziraphale’s new station and improved fortune, and Adam begs Aziraphale, as well as the Misses Crowley and Anathema Rivers, to come visit them all in Thornfield Hall as soon as they can. They all lived happily ever after, the end.

[whereimfeminine]

Hey, can i ask you something? How do you think harry can go so many times lowkey like in Jamaica? Bc it seems with the fan pics and so to be very hard. I’m sure there where fans in Jamaica just as there are in cities like London and NY so how do you think he goes about preserving his privacy?

omg no one ever sends me anons just to chat about harry anymore, how fun :’) 

anyways! I get the sense harry is pretty good at going incognito anywhere when he wants to be, like how we can go a whole month without seeing him even when he’s in london, ny, etc. I figure it must be some combination of how he dresses, where within cities he goes, how strong of a “dont talk to me” vibe he gives. also w jamaica specifically, i looked up the town and it looks realllll small, so that alone must help. fewer people to spot him and all. plus i imagine he was cooped up in teh studio quite a bit then.

also tho more broadly, not to get #Haylor but in reminiscing on the infamous snowmobile accident, interviewers asked taylor how it was possible two huge popstars went to the ER without it being super well known immediatley. and she talked about how it’s often underestimated how far, “please don’t post this online” will go. altho obv some ppl are demons and we see the worst of ppl not respecting boundaries, i also think in general, more people than not arent demons and will respect harry’s privacy if he doesnt wanna be seen u kno? 

[rfsak2]

Cactus, a Negotiation

So someone, somewhere on my dash described Only Angel as a song about a good girl with a kinky side and I was inspired. This is what happened… Not sure how I feel about it but here it is. Also set in Jamaica... 

Cactus, a Negotiation Summary: When it turns out she’s a devil in between those sheets. Harry/Jamie Warnings: Just some talking, mentioning kinks. Sexual Negotiation is what I’d call. Shouldn’t be too obscene.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Jamie sipped on whatever fruity tropical cocktail Harry had made her. “I’m saying that any feminism that degrades women who are attracted to men is incomplete. Enjoying having sex with men, enjoying being in any kind of relationship, platonic or otherwise, with men doesn’t make me a halfway feminist. I don’t have to write men off completely to be a good feminist, yeah?”

“But we’re not talkin’ about yeh being able to enjoy sex or enjoy men without censure.” Harry sipped at his matching cocktail. “We’re talkin’ about me bein’... about whether or not it’s appropriate for me to talk about havin’ sex with a woman in a song. We’re talkin’ about whether that’s degradin’ or objectifyin’ or not.”

“And I’m sayin’ that we should be able to talk about it. Aside from clear instances of… obscenity.. Smut, if you want-” she shrugged “-is it appropriate for us to censor ourselves to the point where it’s completely sterile of any actual meaning? We should be able to talk about this, with sensitivity and respect ‘course, but it shouldn’t be a taboo to even hint that some men enjoy having sex with women and that some women enjoy having sex with men. It shouldn’t be wrong for you to express yourself just because you’re male.”

“So you don’t think that say Kiwi will be taken wrong?” Harry pulled at his lip.

“There will always be someone who, despite your best efforts to be clear, will not understand or will understand but will be offended anyways. All you can do is try and be ready to defend it, with grace and kindness, when it comes to that. With the right to express yourself comes the duty to be responsible for what you expressed. If you’re degradin’ or objectifyin’ or just plain wrong, then you bear the responsibility for that.”

“Do you find it offensive?”

She shook her head, smiling against the rim of her glass. “Not at all. I think she has agency that she clearly has no problem exercising. But most importantly, I don’t think you’re moralizin’ her actions either way, y’know? You’re not calling her a bitch or a whore or even celebrating her choices. You literally just state that you’re kinda into it. It is what it is. And it’s fuckin’ fun.”

He grinned and sipped again at his drink. “I like that we can talk like this.”

“If we’re honest, the only reason I can talk like this is probably because I’m tipsy.” She grinned. “Let’s be real.”

He shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “We always have good conversations. The liquor helps I guess. You are more direct when you’ve had a few.”

She smiled. “Kiwi isn’t written about anyone in particular, right?”

He sipped his drink. “Would it become more offensive if it was?”

She shook her head. “No. I still would feel the same about it. Is it though?”

Harry chuckled and motioned around him vaguely. “Well I don’t have any children.”

“You sure?” She sipped her drink, her mouth forming a cheeky smile against the rim of the glass.

“I always wrap it before I tap it, love. I am very sure.” He winked.

She chuckled, or meant to, but with two- honestly, not too terribly strong, what a sweet boy- drinks in her it came out more as a slow giggle. “That’s very smart.”

He cast a look at the other end of the table. Just seconds ago it felt like Jeff, Jeffrey, Mitch and Adam were miles away, now glancing over her shoulder, Jamie felt a little closed in.

Harry’s hand landed on her elbow and she turned back to him, almost physically feeling the other guys fading into background noise.

He rubbed his thumb idly over her tattooed elbow. “Have you…” He glanced up at her, green eyes heavy-lidded. “Have you ever fucked bare?”

She grinned and caught his eyes on her lips. “Nope.”

He nodded absently, eyes having skated down over her cleavage, only minimally exposed in an oversized v-neck, and landed on the skin of her arm. He hummed lightly. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Never really trusted them.” He glanced up and caught her small smile. “I have some family history that makes me… a little… hesitant, I guess.” She shrugged again and nabbed her drink off the table, taking a swift sip.

He smiled. “Even the bloke from Nashville? Never did catch his name.”

“His name isn’t important… hasn’t been for a long time.” She chuckled quietly. “But no. Not even him.” “Yeh didn’t trust him?”

“It was less about trust and more about.. It was just how we were, I guess. When we started having sex- and we honestly didn’t have sex particularly often anyways, didn’t ever live together or anythin’ like that -but when we started, we always used condoms. Never really questioned it.. Or wanted to, honestly.”

“Was he bad in bed, love?” He folded his arms on the table and set his chin on them.

“Didn’t have a huge frame of reference at the time, but I guess he was… good.” She shrugged.

“Did he…” He stopped himself, draining the last of his drink. “We don’t have to talk about this, love. Don’t want t’make yeh uncomfortable.”

“I’m not.”

He nodded. “Don’t wanna take advantage of yeh either though. Ye’ve had a bit to drink.”

“No more than you.” She mimicked him, setting her chin on her folded arms. “I’m nothing more than pleasantly buzzed, promise. Ask your question.”

“Did he ever get yeh off?”

She huffed thoughtfully, looking up as if she were counting. “Mayb-”

“That’s a no then.” He grinned slowly. “Don’t know why yeh stayed as long as yeh did, love. Shouldn’t have given him a minute more of yer time.”

“He was nice and I was young and I thought I loved him.” She shrugged. “Thought that that was enough.”

“Was it?”

“Twenty-two year old me knows better now, but nineteen year old me thought it was.”

Harry drew meaningless little shapes against her skin, eyes on hot on hers. “So twenty-two year old you knows you deserve to cum at least once if not twice or more, yeah?”

She grinned. “Twenty-two year old me knows that that is beyond the realm of reality for most women.”

Harry shook his head. “Repeat after me: ‘Haz, I solemnly swear to always expect a sexual partner to get me off at least once in any sexual encounter I may endeavor to engage in.”

She giggled into her folded arms. “Haz!”

“Yer doin’ so well, gorgeous. C’mon.” He grinned. “I solemnly swear to-”

“What are you two talking about?”

Later that night, safely ensconced in her nice, fluffy bed, having changed into pajamas and taken off her bra, Jamie sucked down water, coming down pleasantly from her buzz, and scrolled through instagram.

Are you awake?

Yep

Can I cuddle with you?

She smiled and shuffled further into her sheets.

Of course you can.

Seconds later, Harry knocked on her door. There was a small, quiet yelp and she pushed up off the bed as Harry pushed open the door.

“Yer door is out for me, love.”

She grinned. “Did ya get another splinter?”

He shook his head and offered her his hand for inspection. “Nearly broke a finger.”

“How did you manage that?” She cradled his hand. His fingers looked fine but she dropped a soft kiss on his knuckle. “Poor clumsy baby.”

He pouted at her and made a vague motion. “Scooch.”

She did and she openly stared as he pulled his shirt off over his head and slithered under the covers. She laid her head on his chest and traced the butterfly on his torso idly. “I like this butterfly.”

He chuckled and she smiled as he pectoral vibrated under her cheek. “Thank yeh, love.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I still can’t believe that yeh spent an entire year with a man who couldn’t get yeh off regularly.”

She shrugged. “I think you must have crazy, wild sex all the time if you’re that surprised about it. It’s rather normal for most women.”

“That’s because some, maybe most, men don’t know what the fuck they’re doin’ and they seem not to care about learnin’ to do it right.” Harry sucked on his lip. “Women deserve to have good sex with men who care about havin’ good sex and not just nuttin’ and runnin’.”

Jamie smiled. “Maybe so.”

“Can I… will you let me…” He swallowed dryly and she lifted her head off his chest. He turned and pressed his forehead against hers.

“What?”

“I wanna give yeh an orgasm.” He kissed her gently, almost chastely, and smiled. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it all night.”

She pressed closer to him and leaned up for a deeper kiss.

“Been thinkin’ about watchin’ yeh fall apart and knowin’ it was me who did it.” He nipped at her lips and groaned lowly into her mouth as his fingers slipped underneath her t-shirt. “It’s probably not okay-”

“It’s definitely okay.” She smoothed her hand up over his chest and carded her fingers back through his hair. “It’s really okay.”

**

“It’s a chicken’s foot… literally?”

Jamie nodded. “It’s usually in a soup, but yeah…”

“So do you like eat the actual foot?” Harry looked skeptical.

“Yep.” She nodded vaguely. “You kinda pick the meat off the foot.”

“And you’ve done this?”

She shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

“And it was good?”

“The soup itself is absolutely fantastic. The foot can be a little tough, obvs, but when done right it’s usually really yummy.”

He nodded. “Yeah… no I don’t think I can do that.”

She snickered. “Chicken?”

He snorted.

“Honestly it’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“Y’know...” He grinned. “I’m rather shocked by that. Yer don’t… yer so calm.”

“Calm has nothin’ to do with anythin’. I can calmly be game to try new things.” She sniffed contemptuously. “Besides, my mother is a chef. Our family goes to exotic locales for family vacays. We’ve all eaten weird foods.”

He nodded, smiling softly. “What’s the weirdest thing ye’ve eaten then?”

She grinned. “Roasted scorpion.”

He looped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her against his side. “Where was that?”

“Bangkok.” She smiled fondly as they strolled. “My mom always sets aside a day to visit as many street vendors as she can. It’s her specialty. She’s the urban street food queen of San Antonio.”

“What was scorpion like?”

She made a face. “Crunchy…”

“Didn’t much care for it then?”

“Said I’m game to try new things… not necessarily that I always liked the new thing.”

He grinned. “Fair.” He got quiet and she stopped to look at spices, chatting with the merchant quietly. “Does being ‘game to try new things’ pertain only to food?”

She cast a look over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow and grinning. “Don’t start somethin’ you won’t finish.”

He made a face. “Who says I won’t?”

She kept wandering, his arm coming back around her shoulders. “I say.” She shrugged. “We’ve made out alot, but every time it looks like it might go somewhere, you shut it down.”

She caught his eye a tad nervous, hoping that she wasn’t reading everything all wrong. “And that’s fine, of course, if you don’t want have sex with me, but I just don’t particularly like gettin’ all worked up over somethin’ that isn’t gonna happen… ‘specially if it’s makin’ you uncomfortable.”

Harry snorted again. “It’s not makin’ me uncomfortable. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, looking over a market stall near him. “I don’t want yeh to feel forced into anythin’, love… pressured maybe. Also don’t want to make all of this awkward for yeh. What happens if yeh end up not wantin’ this and then yer trapped on a island with me for another month.” He glanced at her from under his lashes. “Would be miserable.”

She smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist. “That’s very… honorable. Thank you.”

He shrugged. “Not very, I’d imagine.” “Because of last night?”

“We were drinkin’ and I shouldn’t have.”

“We each had a couple of drinks over the course of three hours, Haz.” She squeezed him. “I wasn’t even close to drunk. I promise.” He nodded and she looked down at her Chucks as they strolled. “Do you re-”

“No.” He caught her eye. “Not at all.”

She smiled, relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m gonna be thinking of last night for awhile.”

She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Good… me too.”

They kept strolling for a couple more stalls before Haz leaned down, mouth near her ear. “So does it?”

She arched a brow. “Does it what?”

“Does being ‘game to try anything’ apply to more than just food?”

She grinned. “And if it does?”

He groaned lowly. “It does, doesn’t it? Bet yer proper kinky, love.” He reached up to tug at his lip.

She laughed quietly. “Isn’t proper kinky a little… contradictory?”

He huffed. “Yeh know what I mean… not proper as in.. proper but,” he shrugged, “Colloquially.”

She chuckled to herself as she perused another vendor’s wares.

“Are yeh though?”

The merchant offered her a smell of a sauce, looked like, and she turned back to offer it to him as well. Grinning just short of wickedly, she whispered. “What? Proper kinky?”

Harry ran his tongue over his bottom lip and nodded.

Shrugging, she handed the bottle back to the man and thanked him. She wound her arm back around his middle and smiled up at him. “Define proper kinky.”

He grinned. “So then.. That’s kink number one, innit?”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

He leaned in close. “Bet yeh get fuckin’ drenched when a man knows the right words to say, yeah? Like that dirty talk. Like it when I tell yeh how I’m gonna ruin yeh.” He pulled her even closer, running his nose over her flushed cheek. “Bet yeh’d like if I told you what t’do too? Told yeh how to touch and where and when?”

“Holy shit.” She breathed deeply and ran a hand through her hair.

“Yeah…” He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “I like it too.”

“Bein’ told what to do?” She swallowed. “Or tellin’ someone what to do?”

“Either… both.”

They had stopped in the middle of the road, people milling around them unhurriedly and unworried. His arm dropped from around her shoulders and grabbed her hand. He tugged her forward with a broad, wicked grin as she fought to regain her composure.

“What else do yeh like, pretty girl?”

She shoved her free hand back through her hair again and released a tense breath. “Why don’t you tell me? Since you like telling me things anyway.”

He grinned. “That’s kink number two then… bet yeh don’t mind bein’ a little naughty in public, do yeh? Gets yeh all hot and bothered that someone may overhear, may find out what we’re talkin’ about. May find out that yer not the innocent little angel yeh look like yeh are.”

“Never tried to look innocent.” She smiled. “In fact spent hours under a needle so I wouldn’t. I like people to know what they’re gettin’ into.”

“Consider me warned, love.” He grinned.

“And what do you like?” She smiled blushingly up at him. “Tit for tat, baby.”

“Tell me what I like.”

“You like the ‘lady in the streets, freak in the bed’ trope.” She leaned against him. “You like knowing that you’re the only one who knows-”

“What yer really like.” He kissed her softly. “I like knowin’ that all’a this is mine. No one else gets to see it.”

“What else do you like?”

He smiled. “I like that yer small. Feel big and strong around yeh. Didn’t know I had a size kink until I met yeh honestly.”

She nodded, her voice low. “I like that too… Feel like you could give me a good manhandling.”

He groaned. “Manhandling… love, yer killin’ me.” He squeezed her hand. “Like bein’ held down?” She hummed, nodding. “Hair pullin’?”

“Of course.” She smiled slowly.

He dropped another kiss on her cheek. “Spanking?”

She shrugged. “Never been spanked before, but I’ll give anything a try.”

He grinned. “Anythin’?”

“Within reason. There are some hard no’s for sure.”

“Holy shit.” He took a deep breath. “We’re gonna have fun when we get back to LA.”

She favored him with a confused, little smile. “Stickin’ with that plan, then?”

He nodded, smiling down at her. “I don’t want yeh t’regret it, love.”

“And if I say I won’t?”

His jaw clenched. “I just think-”

She reached over with her other hand and rubbed at his forearm soothingly. “I’m a big girl. I can make decisions for myself, Haz.”

“I know…” He shrugged. “I don’t mean to make it seem like I don’t think you can.”

“Do you worry this much about every girl who wants you to fuck their brains out?” She grinned up at him.

“I know I’m bein’ a bit too… much about this but…” He chuckled. “But it would… I don’t think you understand how-” He huffed, frustrated that his tongue didn’t seem to be working. “If you ever regretted anythin’ we did… I would- it would be horrible.” He shrugged helplessly.

Jamie leaned against his shoulder and tried to remind herself that they weren’t dating, that this was casual. That this would eventually come to a natural and likely, mutual end.

She failed. Whatever intention she had to keep thinking about whatever this was as casual went up in smoke when he pressed a kiss to her hair.

She smiled. “Okay then, Mr. Old Fashioned. We’ll play by your rules.” He chuckled and she glanced up at them. “However.” He arched an eyebrow down at her. “However, no more sex talk. No more workin’ me up. It’s not fair.”

He grinned. “What if I promise to get yeh off?” He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip and tugged at it.

“Well, then…” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and released it on a hot sigh. “Suppose I could negotiate.”

He dropped her hand and placed his low on her back, propelling her forward. “Time t’go.”

“What’s the rush?” She grinned.

“I want my mouth on yeh.”

She bit at her knuckle and stifled a moan. “Yeah, I can work with that…” He smiled tightly. “Yeah?”

She nodded, lip back between her teeth. She stopped him and leaned up against him, carding her hand through his hair and coaxing him down to her level. Mouth against his ear, she smiled. “Tit for tat… right?”

He sucked in a breath and groaned lowly. “Y’know, I find it really… yeh are unbelievably sexy.”

She giggled. “Does that mean yes? Cause I can promise not to spit.”

“Shite.”

Part XIX Up Next: A Claim

[rfsak2]

Cactus, An Interlude

I just got a little bug stuck in my head. Doesn’t really contribute to the plot of Cactus, but hopefully you think it’s cool! Also, if you’re looking for timeline related clues: first two are in Jamaica, third one is at some point during album promo, and last one is after they get married (that one’s fairly obv).

Enjoy!

Title: Cactus, An Interlude Summary: Four Times (out of many) Harry Wanted (needed) to be Little Spoon (despite not being little). The Styles Warnings: There’s some intense flirting and some nakedness. Nothin’ obscene tho’.

“Take th’seat, love.”

Jamie shook her head. “I’m fine. You said your back was hurting. Sit.”

He grinned. “My mum would very disappointed in me if I sat while a lady stood.”

“But-”

“Sit, monster.”

She hesitated, crossing her arms over her chest, an action that, however unintended, pushed her breasts up against the v-neck of her t-shirt and drove Harry more than a little mad.

Harry wanted nothing more than to get his hands (and mouth) on her tits. Honestly, it was a bit of an obsession at this point. She had the prettiest cleavage he’d ever seen.

He just wanted to mark her up a bit, leave gentle bruises from his fingertips and little love-bites so that anyone who cared to look would know that this woman, this tiny, sexy, beautiful woman, was not alone.

He had the sneaking suspicion that if he ever did get his hands (and mouth) on her in that way, that there was a distinct likelihood she would never be alone again.

But that was beside the point and a suspicion best saved for when he didn’t have her trapped on an island, with no way to get away from him if it didn’t go according to plan.

He chuckled against the tightness in his chest and took the four or five feet of space between them in one long stride. He set his hands on her shoulders, aware of just how small she was compared to him, how fragile she seemed under his big hands.

“Sit.” Gently, ever so gently, he guided her back to the only seat in the studio that wasn’t behind the desk. Her knees met the leather of the chair and, glowering rather comically at him, she sunk into the chair. “Down.”

Which really didn’t help anything, honestly. Now he could see right down her shirt and his brain, amped up on her and prolonged proximity to her, noticed that she was rather at the perfect height for certain activities.

She wouldn’t even have to kneel and if that didn’t make it all seem a bit more gentlemanly.

He took a deep breath and captured his lip between his teeth. He took a step back and realized his eyes were still locked on her chest.

He started, eyes darting to catch hers. Jamie was smirking and one blonde eyebrow was arched. “Feel like I should charge ya…”

He blushed. “I’m so so-”

The door to the studio opened up and Mitch, Jeff and Ryan came filtering in.

He retreated to the far side of the studio, rubbing a hand over his neck, and snuck very embarrassed looks at her. Jamie for her part, looked relatively unperturbed by the whole situation.

It made him feel better, if nothing else.

Mitch glanced between the two of them, but ultimately rolled his eyes and ignored them. They would figure it out, he reasoned.

Half-way through running back over the day’s work, the knot that sat between his shoulder blades tightened and he had to fight not to groan. He reached back to rub at the spot, trying to stretch out the tension.

Jamie noticed.

There was a brief pause in the conversation and Jamie cleared her throat. “Haz, come sit.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “No.”

“C’mon now, I can see that your back hurts. Come sit.”

He smiled. “No, thank yeh, love.”

She huffed and started to stand. “Don’t be stubborn. Sit and I’m gonna go get you some ibuprofen. I have some in my room.”

He shook his head at her. “Jamie. Sit down.”

“No.”

“If I have to sit on yeh to keep yeh in tha’ chair, I will, love.”

She took her seat and patted her thigh. “Bring it on, pretty boy.” She shrugged. “As long as you sit down.”

He grinned. “Touche, monster.”

Smug, she looked at her watch. “Hop to it, baby. We’re all waitin’ on you.”

He shook his head and made a face at Mitch, who looked like he was about to die laughing, but he loped over to her and sat gingerly in her lap.

She was just so small. He was sure that the only part of her that could be seen under him was her fluffy, blonde bun over his shoulder.

Jeff grinned and rubbed a hand over his face. “You two are a comedy act unto yourselves. Anyways-”

She shifted underneath him and he turned slightly over his shoulder. “Yeh alright, love? Not too heavy, yeah?”

She nodded. “No, you’re fine.” She sat as tall as she could, arching to see over his shoulder. “Do you see my phone?”

Her breasts pressed to his back as she pointed. “I set it on the corner of the desk. Can you grab it? I need to take notes.”

He took a deep breath.

This was a bad decision.

“Haz? Can you grab my phone, querido?”

He cleared his throat quietly and nodded, leaning forward to nab the phone. He passed it back and she smiled. “Thanks, my dear.”

Ten minutes later, he shifted again, trying to stretch his back.

He could hear her chuckle behind him and suddenly she laid her phone on his thigh. “Take notes. I’mma rub your back.”

He shook his head. “Yeh do-”

“Stop arguin’ with me. Take notes.” Her hands rubbed over his shoulders and then tapped the center of his back. “Worse here?”

He nodded and picked up her phone. “Yeh are so bleedin’ stubborn.”

She snorted, thumbs kneading firmly into his back. “Said the pot to the kettle.”

**

“But, I can’t write songs!”

She ran her fingers through his hair, his head laid in her lap, and chuckled. She knew he was joking, but at the same time, she could sense that he was truly frustrated.

“You can, Haz, you can. You’ve just got a bit of writer’s block, is all.”

Jeff smiled. “Look man, take the weekend off and just be. Take a break and come back fresh on Monday. “I have to be in the States this weekend, so it works out.”

Harry sighed. “Ok.” He rubbed a hand over his face and nodded. “Ok. When do you leave?”

“I’m gonna drive out to the airport pretty soon.” He winked. “Just wanted to make sure you don’t try to work yourself into an early grave, H.”

Jamie smiled, fingers still working through Harry’s hair. “Have a safe flight.”

Nodding, Jeff stood and stowed his phone in his pocket. “Take care of our boys, yeah?”

She saluted. “Momma Jamie’s on the case.”

“Thanks, girl. Bye guys. Have a good weekend.”

“I’ll miss you, Jeffrey.”

“Miss you too, H.”

The door closed behind him and Harry covered his face with his hands again. He made a small frustrated grunt. “I’m a failure.”

She huffed and pulled on his shoulder, so he rolled, facing up at her instead of at where Jeff had been sitting. “No, you’re not.”

“I am. I suck at this.”

She frowned down at him and pulled at his hands. “How many songs have you written? I mean, seriously, baby. How many?”

“I don’t like any of them.”

“You like Kiwi?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I like Kiwi.”

“You like Sweet Creature?”

He huffed. “Yes, obviously. Love, I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“I get that you’re frustrated.” She brushed the fringe off his forehead. “But you’ve done great work here and you’ll do some more great work. You just have to get off your own back for a minute and take a break.”

He nodded. “There’s somethin’ missin’.”

She shrugged. “So figure it out on Monday. This weekend you’re gonna relax if I have to tie you to a b-... a chair.” She blushed.

“Love, I’m 100% into the idea of you tyin’ me to a bed-” he snickered.

“Shut up.”

“-but the thought is definitely not relaxin’. Make’s me rather stiff, jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

She hit him in the face with a throw pillow. “Shut up.”

He cackled and she pushed him off her lap. “Where yeh goin’, love?”

She turned back to him at the door. “I was gonna suggest that we cuddle and watch a movie but if you’re gonna be a dick then I’ll watch a movie by myself. Thank you very much.”

He crossed the room in two loping steps and pulled her back against him, arms tight around her waist. “Monster! Don’t leave!” She pushed half-heartedly at his arms. “You’re a jerk. I dun wanna talk to ya no more.”

“But yeh love me.” He nuzzled his face into her neck. “You love me.”

“Receipts or it isn’t true.” She tried to wiggle away again.

“Jamie Schwartz! So cruel.” He squeezed her closer. “Tell me you love me!”

She laughed. “Jesus. You’re so dramatic!”

“Tell me you love me.”

“Fine! Te amo. Let me go!”

He did, grinning down at her. “Ha! I bloody knew it!”

“So?” She shrugged. “I’m still not cuddling with you.”

Then she took off and she was fast for someone with short legs. He caught her right outside her door and popped her off her feet as she squealed.

He moved toward his room and grinned at Mitch as he popped his head out of his room. “We’re watchin’ a movie. Wanna join?”

“Nah, I’m good, buddy.”

Harry nodded. “‘ave a good night, mate.”

Mitch shook his head. “Have a good night, you two.”

Harry smiled widely and carried the still ‘struggling’ woman into his room. He threw her on the bed and smiled down at her. “Wha’ should we watch?”

She flicked him off and he whipped his shirt off and threw it at her face.

She grinned and sat up. “I’mma change first, though.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Can’t trust yeh. Ye’ll run.” He pulled a t-shirt from a pile of clean clothes. “Wear this.”

She laughed and made a motion with her finger. “Turn around.”

He nodded and turned so she could change, changing into a pair of shorts while he was at it. When he turned back, her clothes were on the floor at his feet and she was tucking soft, tanned legs underneath her, absolutely swimming in his shirt.

Jamie smiled. “What are we watching?”

He shrugged. “Somethin’ scary? We watch rom-coms all the time. I reckon we should watch somethin’ different.”

“Okay, but not too scary.” She shrugged. “I’m a wimp.”

He grinned. “I’ll protect yeh.” He paused and then sat on the bed next to her. “Can I...Can I be little spoon?”

She nodded. “‘Course you can.”

He grabbed his laptop, opened it and, having picked a movie, laid back and turned on his side. She scooted in as close as possible and fit both arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder.

It didn’t take long until she was flinching away from the screen and hiding her eyes in the back of his neck.

He chuckled and entwined his fingers with hers. “Too scary, love?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

He kissed one of her hands. “Wanna switch ‘round?”

“No, I’m hiding behind you.” She squeezed him and squeaked as the ghost popped up behind the character in the movie. “Shit!”

**

He collapsed face-first onto the bed and sighed. “I’m exhausted…”

She nodded and curled up on the duvet next to him. “You’ve had a long day.”

Harry smiled into the duvet. “Yeh too.”

She combed her fingers through his hair. “Not as long as you. I didn’t have to do any interviews.”

“Fair enough.”

“Do you wanna take a bath?” She smiled. “We can get some wine sent up…”

He grinned. “Tha’ sounds lovely.”

Jamie stood. “You call room service. I’ll get the bath started.”

Ten minutes later, the wine had been poured and the bath had been filled and she crooked her finger at him, beckoning him into the bathroom.

He grinned as he shrugged off his suit jacket. She brushed aside his hands and drew him into the bathroom. Smiling softly, she pulled his silk shirt from the waist of his trousers and unbuttoned it, glancing up at him from underneath her lashes.

He pressed his lips to her forehead and reached behind her to unzip her pretty a-line skirt. “Yeh looked so beautiful today.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “You too.”

“Did I?” He unhooked the hook-and-eye above her zipper and helped step out of the puddle of silk jacquard at her feet. Groaning, he cupped her ass and pulled her up against him.

With a coy smile, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders and undid the cuffs one by one, before laying it over the sink so it wouldn’t get wet.

Hands once again free, he pulled her simple cream knit top over her head and kissed her as her hair settled, a fluffy, static-y cloud around them. “So beautiful…”

She smiled like Mona Lisa and undid his trousers, slipping her hands in to cup his ass through his pants before pushing them off his hips.

He grinned down at her and stepped out of them before stooping to pick up both his trousers and her skirt. They joined their respective shirts on the counter. He was straightening when suddenly a flying article of clothing hit him in the shoulder.

He jumped and gaped briefly down at her bra, lying at his feet.

Laughing, Harry pulled her against him. “Finally someone’s underwear that I want thrown at me.”

She threw her head back, all but cackling. He pressed his lips to her throat and hooked his thumbs in her knickers, and pulled them down her legs.

His eyes followed the progress of her underwear and, lip caught between his teeth, he groaned. “Get in th’tub, love.”

She did, leaning back against the warm porcelain behind her. She smiled and watched as he stepped out of his pants.

Whistling, she dragged her eyes down, from broad shoulder to the ‘BIG’ tattooed on his toe.

“Scoot forward, love.”

Jamie shook her head, managing at the last minute to sweep all her hair into a top-knot. “Sit in front. I’ll wash your hair.”

He grinned. “Yer so bloody sexy, monster.”

“Because I want to wash your hair?”

Stepping into the bath, he shrugged and relaxed back against her. “Yeh jus’ are.”

She ran warm wet hands over his shoulders as he lifted his wine. He sipped at it through a smile. “Know why we don’t normally do it this way, though…”

She kissed the guitar on his shoulder. “Why’s that?”

“Me legs are too long.”

Looking over his shoulder at where his knees rose above the water, Jamie chuckled into his skin. “Let me wash your hair and we’ll switch.”

Harry shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I like this too much to switch.”

**

She pushed hair off his clammy forehead and kissed his cheek. “I’ll go get you some medicine, baby.”

He shook his head and tried to turn away from her. “No med’cin.”

“Yes med’cin. You’ve got a head cold and I won’t have you mopin’ around the house for a week because you refuse to get better.”

He pouted at her, covers drawn up to his chin. “Dun wan’ ‘em.”

Running her thumb back over his forehead, she shrugged. “Too bad.” She stood and grabbed her phone from where she had set it on the bedspread. “Call if you want anything specific. I’m gonna get stuff to make soup too.”

He considered that and sniffled rather pathetically. “Can yeh make biscuits, too?”

She smiled. “American or English?”

He sniffled again. “American.”

Nodding, she leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Yeah I can do that.”

By the time she got back, he’d moved to the couch and fallen asleep again. She quietly set about making the soup, chopping vegetables and breaking down the whole chicken she bought.

When everything was in the pot and she’d washed her hands and tidied up, she popped out a dose of sudafed and grabbed a glass of water.

At some point, Harry had woken up and was blankly staring at the almost muted TV.

She felt his face and, while he was still clammy, he hadn’t popped a fever yet. She dropped the box on the coffee table and passed him the glass and the pills. “Pop ‘em, mister.”

He groaned but sat up and took the medicine rather sulkily.

She went to stand and he caught her hand. “Cuddle me?” He sniffled. “Wanna be little spoon.”

She grinned and nodded, Harry shuffling forward towards the edge of the couch.

Setting an alarm on her phone for the soup, she slipped in behind him and tugged him back against her with one arm. She tucked her free arm under his head, bent at the elbow so she could toy with his hair.

“Feel like shit.”

She smiled. “I can imagine. You wanna keep watching whatever this is?”

He shrugged. “Don’t care.”

She turned on something that looked more interesting to her, considering that he’d probably pass out soon. When she had settled back against the couch, he grunted softly.

“Thanks fer takin’ care of me, monsta.”

She kissed the back of his neck. “Anytime, baby. You’d do the same for me. Besides what are wives for?”

He chuckled his way into a cough. “Wives are fer so much more than jus’ takin’ care of their ‘usbands when they’re sick.”

She shrugged. “Potay-to, Potah-to.”

“I love yeh, Jamie.”

“I love you too, Harry.”

Part XIII Up Next: Part XIV