#but quite the juicy mix once you stop to look

[thunderpot]

Hello Hello Hello my loves! Today I come with a preview of my piece for @noragamitarotzine!

I had the absolute pleasure of doing my precious kiun and take (and in usual me fashion, pack a bunch of symbolisms in it hahaha). I love love love this painting, and I hope ya'll get the chance of enjoying both mine as well as all the great arts in this project!

Preorders are open until NOV 18, so go snatch a copy! 💝

[fumiliar]

random headcanons - jjk

contains: gojo, toji, megumi, choso

satoru gojo:

satoru would bring an extra sweet in case you wanted one (he'd end up eating it most of the time). in his head, a bad mood can always be fixed by a sweet treat.

satoru who has one of the best styles among all the jjk men. he spends his money on buying timeless wardrobe pieces. he is an outfit repeater, he knows what looks good on him, so he sticks to those. maybe a mix of match of colours, but they're usually in the same format, but hey, what's worse, an outfit repeater or an outfit rememberer?

satoru who changed his perfume to a less pungent one in case you'd get dizzy. he wants to be near you constantly, he doesn't want his smell getting in the way.

satoru would squeeze your butt in public places, not in a sexual way, but in a "your butt is my stressball" way. you'd always be embarrassed, especially when he does it in front of his friends, but once you scolded him, he stopped doing in as often in public.

toji fushiguro:

toji usually has a hard time sleeping, his job not allowing him to rest easy, making him carry a burden on his shoulder at all times. but when he's with you, he sleeps so easily. you're like a pill of melatonin. you always complain, every time you meet him, he'll always fall asleep. but he can't help it, you're just so...comforting

toji is a man who loves back rubs. he didn't know he liked receiving them until you offered to rub his back because he kept complaining of having muscle pains. now, he constantly complains of back pains. it might be because he's old, but a little feeling in you knows, he doesn't need it, he just loves it.

toji has to be touching you at all times. like, he has to have at least one part of his body touching yours. his job requires him to be gone for a few days at a time, this makes him appreciate the little time he has with you before he has to scurry to his next job. he uses this time by being very touchy.

toji would make dad jokes all year long. never missing any opportunity to crack one. it's his favourite activity.

megumi fushiguro:

megumi gossips. every time you find out something juicy, he's all up in your face asking what you heard. he's the nosiest man you've met in all your years of living. he enjoys gossip sessions, some days he wishes your friends would adopt him as apart of the girls just so he gets the news as quickly as possible.

megumi is the most nonchalant chalant guy. he doesn't care for most stuff, he's only like that to you and his closest friends.

megumi knows weirdly alot about flowers. when he bought you your first flowers, it took him an hour of contemplating. he created an intricate bouquet with flowers signifying his feelings, keeping it as aesthetic as possible. he loves getting you flowers because it's his two favourite things combined into one, flower picking and you.

choso kamo:

choso would watch youtube videos on tutorials how to cook just because he wants to surprise you with your favourite meal. after he's surprised you with your fav meal, he realised that he quite enjoys cooking, now making it apart of his day to learn how to cook — still hiding it from you

choso lets you style his hair however you want. pigtails? sure. space buns? sure. he does not care, as long as you made it, he does not care if yuuji laughs at his face after seeing his hair shaped into cat ears. he could not give a fuck

[ghsttk]

fruits for breakfast.

Scenario: You and Johnny decide to have breakfast in bed...

Warnings: smut, female reader, oral sex, reader receiving and johnny giving, unprotected sex, p in v, slight praise kink, dirty talk ig, dom!johnny and sub!reader, written by a virgin lol.

Words: 2k (I'm sorry)

a/n: I'm using Grammarly to correct my silly writing mistakes, I hope it's fine now. And, again, no one reviewed this before I posted. Spoiler: no, there are no fruits.

It's morning, the quietness is quite comfortable. The window is open, the curtains gracefully flowing with the gentle wind, it's a pretty day. And even lovelier is the man lying asleep next to you, your dear husband Johnny. It’s his day off, thankfully, since this man works so hard, he deserves a break.

You stroke his smooth cheek, watching him sleeping, smiling warmly. Johnny stirs, feeling your touch on him. His eyes flutter open and he smiles, his hand moving to your waist, holding you. “Good morning, sweetie,” He murmurs, a bit sleepy. “You slept well?” His thumb caresses your waist, his grip tightening slightly.

You hum as a yes, nodding ever so slightly. You snuggle closer to him, laying your head on your husband's chest. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “Feeling clingy today, baby?” He teases with a small chuckle. “Can't I enjoy my man's presence now?” You retort with a smirk, he laughs softly and presses a kiss on the top of your head. “I missed you too, sweetheart…”

Johnny looks down at you and smiles warmly, eyes filled with love and adoration, stroking your back. You look up back at him “Let’s have a lazy day today, honey?” you suggest, your hands massaging his chest and shoulders aimlessly. Johnny nods with a hum, his eyes closing and opening slowly.

“What do you want for breakfast, hubby?” You mumble against his bare chest, your lips brushing against his warm skin. He shivers softly at the sensation, his left hand moving up to tangle your hair. “Something sweet, maybe” He strokes your hair. “Something juicy” He licks his lips, looking down at you. “Sweet and juicy…” You echo, thinking. “Would you like a fruit salad? I could even sprinkle sugar on it” 

He smirks softly, his eyes almost closed. “A fruit salad? sounds delicious, darling” He whispers and kisses your temple. “Yeah?” You chuckle softly and kiss his lips tenderly. “I will get a bowl for you” You try to turn away to leave the bed but Johnny holds your waist tightly, stopping you. “A bowl?” He chuckles and you frown your eyebrows slightly, confused. “Yes, my dear… A bowl for the fruits, the fruit salad” You explain, still trying to understand the reason behind his reaction.

“Why, silly?” He teases you and pulls you closer again. “There’s a delicious pair of apples right here” His hand slides up your waist, cupping one of your clothed breasts. You gasp softly in surprise. “Johnny..” You breathe against his skin, his fingers gently tighten his grip around your breast in response, a squeeze. “Yes, baby?” He whispers in a low tone, his thumb brushing against your clothered nipple, feeling it harden under his digit. “You like it, huh?”

You squirm once, pressing your lips together. “No no no, baby… let me hear you” He kisses your lips, letting it linger for a few seconds. You deepen the kiss, gently nibbling his lower lip. He squeezes your breast harder, his tongue asking for entrance into your mouth. You moan against his lips, loving his hands on you.

Johnny moves, breaking the kiss, he turns you to lay on your back while he hovers over you. He leans down and kisses your neck, a hand resting on your shoulder. Your hands, in turn, go to his bare chest, gently scratching it with your long nails. He hisses, getting aroused with the mix of slight pain and pleasure from your scratches.

His fingers slide the strings of your babydoll dress down your arms, exposing your chest to his hungry eyes. “So beautiful, my love, so delicious..” He whispers, licking his lips. Johnny has seen you naked countless times before, but he won’t ever get tired of the sight, his heart pounds and his cock throbs every single time like it’s the first. 

He bobs his head down, his lips spreading until it touches your skin. His tongue swirls on your nipple and he sucks your breast, his teeth slightly grazing on it. Johnny’s hand goes under your breast, squeezing it to make it fit in his mouth. He sucks, nibbles, and kisses your breast, worshiping it. You moan, arching your back. Your hands move from his chest to his hair, gently tugging the smooth strands and pushing his head against your breast, keeping him there. 

He smiles against your skin, finding your eagerness amusing, and travels his other hand down your stomach, leaving goosebumps all the way down until he reaches your thighs. He strokes your sensitive skin, making you shiver. “Oh, Johnny…” You gasp, calling. “Hm?” He leans back, looking into your eyes, before leaning down again to cup your other breast with his lips.

“Tell me, darling. What does my pretty girl want?” He whispers against your skin, his lips close around your nipple, sucking it. His hand, once on your thigh, slides up your inner thighs, his fingers barely touching your skin, making you shiver. Johnny knows how to touch you, what makes you moan and tremble beneath him. His fingers finally reach your heat, sliding a finger between the covered slit, feeling the dampness through the thin fabric of your underwear. You don't have to tell him what to do, he knows your favorite spots like the palm of his hand.

You moan, your legs twitching. He gives your nipple a final lick before trailing kisses down your stomach, his tongue occasionally moving out to lick your skin. When he finally reaches the sweet spot, he raises your knees and spreads your legs further. Johnny looks into your eyes and smirks, his lips close but not touching you. “I won’t have to beg, will I?” You whine. “Please, Johnny…”

He chuckles. “I didn’t say anything and you’re already begging, such a good girl” He closes his eyes and presses a kiss on your clothed clit, making you moan. His hands move up from your knees to your hips, traveling by your inner thighs. He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of your panties and gently pulls them down, slowly and patiently. Johnny licks his lips, he's eating your wetness with his eyes already, finally throwing your panties in a corner. 

He leans even closer, sniffing the scent of arousal from your intimacy, a smell that he adores. He feels his cock throbbing in his sweatpants, but he ignores it for now. He nudges his nose tip on your folds, eliciting a delicious gasp from your mouth. Johnny sticks out his tongue, giving a long lick on the inner lips, spreading them apart, his eyes close as he savors the taste. “You’re sweeter than any fruit, my honey..” Johnny praises, his lips closing around your inner lips and giving a gentle tug, sucking.

Your mouth opened in surprise and pleasure, your hands gripping his hair tighter. You buck your hips against his face, craving more. He groans softly against your folds, making gentle vibrations. Johnny wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you in place. He starts eating you out like your pussy is a delicious, juicy watermelon, he buries his face and makes a mess, smearing your arousal all over his face. He lashes several licks, kisses, and sucks, worshiping your intimacy.

Johnny acts like a starved man, and that’s not completely wrong considering he’s always hungry for you, no matter how many times he has seen your body, it’s always like the first time. His fingers join the fun, resting his palm on your pubic bone and brushing your clit with his thumb, eliciting whimpers from you. After a few minutes, he repositions his hand, sliding his middle finger inside your tight, velvet cave. His other hand keeps holding your thigh.

He keeps licking and flicking against your clit, the pace of his finger thrusting matching with his tongue. He inserts another finger, curling the two upwards to caress your insides. “L-Love, please..” You plead, squeaking. Your insides clenching around his fingers, you feel yourself getting wetter. “Please what, baby?” He whispers against your pussy, his warm breath hitting your skin. You whine, since he stopped licking. “Use your words.” He commands, firmly. 

You take a deep breath, inhaling air. “Honey, please… I need to cum, please.” You beg, fingers still tugging his hair. He groans softly, pleased by your answer and your hands on his hair. He gives a final suck on your clit before shifting his position, coming up to face you again. 

Johnny leans down to kiss your jawline and neck, his teeth nipping your skin. “I’ll make you cum around me, would you like that?” He whispers between kisses. You nod, at this point you would accept anything as long as it makes you release. Your hands are on his shoulders, gripping his muscles. He caresses your waist, his thumb gently pressing against your skin.

Johnny's right-hand goes down, wrapping around his girth. He strokes himself a few times, brushing the mushroom head against your folds. He uses your arousal mixed with his saliva as lube, inserting just the head and then pulling it out. “Johnny…” You groan, frustrated with his teasing, impatient.

He chuckles against your neck, leaving a few kisses as an apology. Johnny slowly pushes forward, holding his breath as he watches your face. He pulls back, then pushes in again, going a little deeper. He repeats the motion, picking up speed. He exhales once fully settled, feeling your inner walls gripping him. He moans softly and slides his hands to your hips, holding you close. “Fuck…” He breathes.

Johnny links his lips with yours, kissing you heatedly. You moan against his lips, your nails scratching his chest, making him groan. His tongue invades your mouth, just like his dick was invading your pussy. He breaks the kiss gently, turning his head to look at the spot where your bodies meet. The sight of his cock stretching your insides never fails to arouse him, leaving a feeling of satisfaction in him.

He could feel your walls trembling, an urge to go even deeper takes control of him. “You’re so tight, so wet” He moans softly. Johnny holds your hips tighter and pistons his hips against yours, he lifts your hips slightly, making the tip of his member hit your sweet spot. You squeak and moan, rolling your eyes back in pleasure. Johnny places his hand on your lower belly, he can see the bulge of his mushroom head sliding in and out of you, and that’s enough to bring him to the edge, making his breath ragged.

But he wants to make you come first, so he sticks out his thumb and rubs your clit in tight circular motions. Your legs tremble, your moans becoming higher, he smirks in satisfaction. He leans to whisper in your ear. “Let it go for me, baby... You’re doing so fucking great.” He nibs your earlobe, his pace never faltering. You feel your orgasm coming, the need to release growing. Johnny whispers more words of encouragement, telling you how tight you grip his cock, how wet you are for him, how much he loves the feeling.

Then, it crashes down like a wave, leaving your body buzzing. Your inner walls contract impossibly tight around him, milking him. Shivers go down his spine, his lemons tightening and the pressure growing, until he can’t hold back. He buries himself deep inside, releasing thick ropes of cum. He shudders from the strength of his orgasm.

Panting, Johnny whispers sweet nothings in your ear, still thrusting inside, now gentler, prolonging your pleasure. He pulls it out and kisses your face. “That was amazing, darling” He breathes. You look at his face and smile, still recovering your breath, and your hands cup his cheeks. “I love you, honey” You whisper and kiss his nose tip. “I love you more, my queen.” He smiles. “You ready?”

“Ready for what?” You chuckle and, suddenly, he picks you up in bridal style. You laugh in surprise. “Ready to get pampered, it’s a reward.” He winks and carries you to the bathroom. Now, that was a wonderful way to start the day.

a/n: I don't know if this is too cringe, I hope it's bearable... And I couldn't use the word "banana", I find it so fucking funny, sorry KMKKJ.

taglist (thank you for the support!♡): @drugs-and-daddyissues

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[love-marimo]

Force Feeding Zhongli Seafood (Zhongli x Reader ft. Venti)

Lolita's note: yes i know, the title is quite misleading but bare with me because i'm having a manic episode and the form of art i chose to abuse tonight is writing.

"Today's lunch is... creamy garlic shrimp pasta!" You beamed at the two guests you have sitting in your dining room. Suddenly the loud voices that you heard from the kitchen halted. You saw Venti look at you with a mix of surprise and disbelief as he holds back a laughter while he glances at Zhongli - who is quite flabbergasted at your choice of dish as well.

Quite isn't the right word honestly. He is about to break into cold sweat and grimace at the food right in front of him. But he does his best to keep his cool and smile at you.

"Ohoho~ Somebody is about to get hit in the jugular." Venti snickers, as he looks at you expectantly.

The thing is you already know Zhongli despises seafood. But you wanted to try something out today. You want to find out what he's like in the face of something he doesn't love. You prepared yourself for an argument, him lecturing you - anything. You're so used to him being so doting on you that you can practically order him to bend the laws of nature and he would do so without a second thought.

"My love... what is this?" He asked, a blank expression in his eyes. You can't tell if he's making sure he sees it right or he's questioning you.

"Garlic shrimp pasta, your favorite!" You repeat again, and Venti almost choked on the cocktail he's drinking.

"Hahaha! There it goes. What do you say, old friend? Are you ready to take the challenge?" Venti elbows Zhongli's arm and winks at him, and his brow twitches as he shoots a glare back at the Anemo Archon.

"Shut it, Barbatos." He snaps at him, clearly growing unamused by the minute. He looks back at you and smiles flatly,

"Dear, you know I have made you aware that I do not eat seafood?"

You feign innocence and you shrug, and Venti covers his mouth, holding back his laughter (to which he obviously fails, and that irritates Zhongli even more).

You don't know if you should laugh or keep it together, because Venti's presence makes this even more trivial than you intended it to be.

You set down the dish and watch them help themselves to a portion of the food. Venti immediately digs in and takes a huge sip of his cocktail.

"Fwah! That hits the spot. You know, this is going to be my new favorite. I bet this would go well with apple pie." Venti almost mockingly voices his appreciation, as if to get a reaction from the former Geo Archon.

You smile at them both, and you waited for Zhongli to take his first bite. You notice how Zhongli keeps the shrimps at the side of his plate and only eats the pasta. He thinks he's getting away with it until you ask him,

"Are you not gonna eat the shrimps?" Part of you just wants to stop this whole thing already, but you were determined to get to the end of this. You wanted to see him eat the shrimps, at least this once in your feeble mortal life.

"Yeah, they are so juicy and delicious, right?" Venti agrees, again, holding back a smile. And you both shared a look.

"I... this is delicious, yes, but, I do not eat seafood." Zhongli finally replies, smiling apologetically - as if he's begging you to let this go.

You smile and you walk over to sit beside him. You take a spoon and begin crushing the shrimps so that it would be at least bearable for him.

"Here, say 'Ahh'." You motion at him, and Venti finally goes from having a fit of giggles to having a full blown laughter.

"'Say Ahh'." He mimics you, and looks at Zhongli, who's slightly avoiding the spoon that your holding.

"I can't believe you're doing this. I mean, look at him, he practically has his mouth shut tight at this point and he looks like a spoiled kid who doesn't want his shrimpies." Venti laughs and finishes his drink, grabbing another portion of the shrimp pasta.

"It is not shrimpies...!" Zhongli almost whines, a scowl now evident on his face, and you and Venti both pause.

Zhongli has a visible pout in his face.

Indeed, it is a sight you should put in a picture frame.

But in a matter of seconds, the former archon redeems himself, clearing his throat.

"What are you trying to get out of me, you two?" He sighs as he gives in, opening his mouth to eat the spoonful of crushed shrimp.

Venti shrugs and tilts his head towards you.

"Dunno, ask them. I'm just following their lead." And at that, you raised a brow, and he laughs.

"I believe I expect a reason for this." Zhongli wipes his lips with a napkin and drinks from the glass of wine. He groaned at the aftertaste. Well, it certainly didn't cleanse his palate as he expected.

"Zhongli, I'm sorry I just-" He was about to give you an earful when Venti chimed in.

"You two are a straaange couple, indeed." Venti smiled. Zhongli closed his eyes, his breath hitching as he did his best not to lash out at Venti.

He heaves an exasperated sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"See, that's what you get for being too doting. They probably did this to piss you off." Venti comments.

Before the silence gets too awkward, Venti takes his leave.

"Welp, I'm outta here. Thanks for the lunch! I enjoyed it very much~" Venti waves at the both of you. You mouthed a 'sorry' and smiled at him as he left. When Zhongli wasn't looking, he waved his index finger, silently telling you how much you pissed him off.

"Sorry, this won't happen again, I promise." You placed your hand on top of his and Zhongli begins to lecture you again about how he used to battle enemies at the sea and how seafood reminds him of all the bloodshed it caused.

He said your name firmly, "I love and respect you. You know that. We've talked a lot about our likes and dislikes, and we confide to each other. So, please, don't do this again." Zhongli looks at you.

"I'm sorry."

He kisses your cheek and smiles at you.

"Apology accepted."

Later in the evening, as if the mischievousness of Venti possessed you,

"Hey." You began to tiptoe behind Zhongli while he was getting ready for bed.

"How was the shrimp?" You snickered. He sighs.

"What was it again? Shrimpies?" You tease again.

"Oh, my love, whatever shall I do with you... it seems that the fickleness of a certain visitor has stayed with you today." He turns to you, and he suddenly holds you close.

Before you could protest, you're trapped in his grip and he peppers kisses on your face.

"You made a strange choice today, my love. What do you think we should do about it?" He lays you down on the bed and starts acting more suggestively, his kisses growing more... irresistible.

"W-wait-"

— Lolita

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Lumine's Harem (If Aether allows it) - Heizou

Summary: There is a case of serial robberies that has the detective stumped but luckily, he has the twins to help. But when they manage to find an important clue, how far will they go to help the man solve the mystery? Disclaimer: This chapter contains incest, exhibitionism, public sex, filming/photography (with and without consent), blackmailing.

The new chapter of the series is up on my P&treon! The link is in my bio if you'd like to read it (and many other stories) and support me and my writing <3 here's a sneak peek!

Misaki double checked that the cookies was secure in the box, a smile on her face as she was quite proud of her baking skills. Closing her front door, she quickly started to skip over to her destination: the neighbour’s house. All day she was watching furniture and luggage be brought into the newly bought house and from what she gathered, a married couple had moved in. There was finally a pause in the moving to break for lunch and so she thought it would be nice to go over and say hello with a fresh batch of cookies.

Definitely not for any other reasons. And definitely not for some juicy gossip.

She rang the bell once she was by the front door, having weaved through boxes and furniture that was yet to be placed into the house.

A handsome young man opened the door, his looks taking away Misaki’s breath. With short layered black hair, his eyes a deep blue and a piercing on his left eyebrow, he was easily one of the more handsome men to live in the neighbourhood. But what stunned her the most were his arm tattoos. The sleeves of his Yukata were bunched up a bit, his body a bit sweaty from moving, and it showed off his various tattoos. Misaki could barely make out what was on him but it looked like a mix of different things. From words to art- his arms stunned her, having never met somebody with so many tattoos.

“Hello.” he said, breaking her out of his trance, “May I help you?”

“Oh! Excuse me-” Misaki said cheerfully, a bit embarrassed by her silence, “My name is Misaki. I’m your next-door neighbour! I saw you moving in and thought I'd come by and introduce myself.”

“How thoughtful of you.” the man said with a kind smile, “Just one second.” he turned around towards the house before calling out:

“Sweetheart! Come here for a second.”

A woman’s voice immediately responded: “Coming!”

The two of them waited as the sound of footsteps got closer, the third party quickly joining them. Misaki once again felt her lungs stop working as she came face to face with a beautiful young woman. With chocolate brown hair decorated with small flowers, plump pink lips and wide, adorable green eyes, all complimented by the pink and flowery kimono she was wearing- she looked like a walking angel. Her appearance and demeanour were the complete opposite of the mans and yet, they looked even more attractive next to each other. “This is my wife, Eri and you can call me Nathaniel.” the man introduced as the woman bowed, his hand gently placed on the small of her back, “Sweetie, this is our neighbour, Mrs.Misaki.”

“Oh, hello!” Eri responded, “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for coming by.”

“Likewise.” Misaki responded, getting a hold of herself as she bowed as well. “Here, I've made you some sweets.” she said, handing over the box to Eri, “I’m quite good at baking if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you so much!” Eri said, gratefully accepting the box, “My husband and I have big sweet tooths. We’ll enjoy this a lot, I'm sure.”

“We don’t have many people in this neighbourhood who aren’t Inazuman locals. Are you perhaps from Mondstad?” Misaki asked, looking at Nathaniel.

“I am.” the man responded with a nod, “I moved to Inazuma once we got married.”

“Oh, how romantic! So, how long have you two been together?”

Eri giggled, gracefully covering her mouth with her sleeve, “I’m sorry, I'm afraid we’re still quite busy with setting up our home. But perhaps, once everything is finished, I can invite you over for some tea and we can get to know each other?”

“Oh? Oh! Yes, of course.” Misaki laughed, a bit embarrassed by her need for some gossip, “I’ll leave you two to it. If you need help with anything, I live right next to you so feel free to call me.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” Eri smiled with a bow. With another goodbye, she gently closed the door, the sound of the lock latching audible to Misaki’s ears. She stood by their doorway for a second, blinking before she started to giggle.

She couldn’t wait to get to know them better and share all of the gossip!

On the other side of the door, the couple waited until they heard footsteps retreating from their front yard before they let out a sigh of relief, some of the stress leaving their body.

“...Do you think she bought it?” Eri- or rather- Lumine asked, looking over at her ‘husband’.

“I think that was good.” Nathaniel- or rather- Aether responded, giving his sister a nod.

Lumine let out a loud sigh, hand on her chest as she released her breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “It’s been a while since I’ve needed to act like this. I forgot how nerve wracking it is!”

“Don’t get cold feet now. We’re going to have to sell this for a while.” Aether reminded.

“I know, I know.” Lumine said, waving away his concern, “I’ll be alright. Just need to get used to it.”

Her brother gave her back a reassuring pat, “Come on. Let’s continue unpacking.”

“Sure.”

~~~~~

[a-bucket-of-trash]

The Good Boy – Kelvin x Neutral Reader – One shot

Prompt: Good boys deserve a “prize”

Tags: Long af Smut af +18 +25 naughty nsfw i’m so sorry * Hide in shame inside The Cube *

Your time on that strange island was spent mostly surviving, gathering resources, and trying not to die of ennui before you were killed by cannibals. Luckily the very task of trying to understand Kelvin already took enough time for you to get bored, plus he, in his way, was entertaining to watch. The soldier was a mix of a dogsbody, with a silent alarm, a lap dog, and a deaf guy. But he was endearing enough for you to really care for him and to warm to him quickly.

Besides, he was helpful, inordinately helpful. If he wasn't logging, he was building, gathering things, clearing the ground, looking for water, food, or hiding in that mini spot you had built in the tree near the base of him, where he could look around, in silence.

But he was almost always around you, following you around, waiting for orders as if he didn't have the ability to make his own decisions, which you knew wasn't true, he was still quite capable, even after such brain damage. Although the first month had been rough, somehow it seemed to get better with each passing day.

Even so, he kept following you, waiting for you to tell him what to do, almost running back once he finished to confirm that he had done it, giving you a thumbs up, waiting for your answer with the same gesture. But now it was added that he was acting relatively different. He seemed to momentarily lose himself in thoughts every time you gave him a thumbs up and sometimes he'd smile to himself when he'd stop for a second to rest, in the middle of homework. You were worried that perhaps his brain was getting worse again, but as soon as you suggested him to take it easy, he refused, even returning to the task with more enthusiasm.

He would sometimes disappear for several minutes, coming back, asking you, with signs, to give him more orders, which was already starting to get too weird. And when there weren't many chores to do, he would just sit near you, waiting.

Even so, every time you asked him if he was okay, he would say “ok”, smiling. In fact, he didn't look bad, he looked healthy, after all. His eyes reacted well, he no longer moved like a cat after being sterilized, so by all accounts, he was physically fine. You just didn't understand his behavior.

To that was added that, despite the fact that he did not hear anything, sometimes words or noises came out of his mouth, without realizing it. Generally they were words referring to something that he asked or did, sometimes they were a "yes" or an "aha", sometimes they were babbling, as if he were thinking aloud, and sometimes they were grunts.

You were making arrows by the fire one afternoon when Kelvin appeared from the woods after a while away, and he sat down next to you, showing you a cloth bag with a dozen fresh peaches in it. You stood still, trying to mentally process the map of the area, trying to remember where there was a peach tree, but you couldn't remember. Obviously he does.

You loved peaches, they were your favorite fruit, and he could tell by the abrupt joy on your face. You quickly put down the arrows to pick up a peach and look at him, saying a quiet, slow, but exaggeratedly gesticulated "Good Boy."

Kelvin smiled, grunting audibly, as he watched you take out your clean knife and start cutting a peach in half. You noticed him resting his head on your shoulder, watching you, studying what you were doing. It didn't bother you, he was quite close and seemed to be very calm when he was in contact with you, so you continued with it, cutting a piece, tasting the fruit. Juicy, luscious, and it was obvious to him how much you liked it, studying your reaction.

You heard him growl again, so assuming he wanted a piece, you cut another and offered it to him. He didn't try to take it, more like he just opened his mouth. You shook your head softly, feeding him, watching him eat, content. And he stood there, strangely enough, mostly watching you eat.

His attitude kept getting "worse", now he growled whenever you gave him a thumbs up. And he still didn't want to explain anything.

Until one day you understood something. You had given him a thumbs up, as always, watching him growl. You saw him immediately continue with another task, trying to finish a stone oven that you had started, taking advantage of the fact that you were going to go get water and wash some things in the river. But you had returned immediately, being that you had forgotten some things. It was when you saw him against the half-baked oven, still, his hands holding a beam, rubbing the bulging crotch of his army pants against the oven wall.

At first you didn't understand what the hell he was doing, and you would have moved closer if you hadn't heard him moan like he did. He couldn't hear himself, but half the island, you and your tomato red face, did hear him. It was weird, it was absurd, but at the same time it was so simple.

You decided to let it go, so you backed away, trying to ignore him. You weren't going to blame him, those things could happen in a place like this, but for him to do it with his pants in the middle and against a stone wall was a bit strange.

Since then you paid special attention to it and discovered a pattern. Every time he did something, you gave him a thumbs up. He always growled when that happened. And you were sure his pants never lay flat after that. Opting to confirm your theory, you eventually held his cheeks firmly, causing him to read the “Good Boy” from your lips. You saw him tremble slightly, growling in response. You nimbly lowered your gaze to a certain point, confirming everything. And from the way he'd stood still, eyes wide, it was obvious that he knew he'd been found out. For a few weeks after that, Kelvin seemed to try to behave as he should, but he soon returned to reacting with growls.

Eventually you wrote him a “Confess. Do you like taking orders?

Kelvin read, giving a slight jump, blushing to the max and looking away a little, nodding.

“Aha…” You smiled to yourself “That was…”

You saw him shakily take the notebook and hesitantly write "I like to please" while he averted his eyes in embarrassment.

Now everything made the total sense of the world. Kelvin got horny doing what you asked, he was turned on by following orders. Which, being a soldier, gave you another idea of himself. Maybe he even had gone on the force just to take orders 24/7. You shook your head softly, sighing, gently patting his head.

Knowing that you were aware of what was happening to him seemed to make him even more horny. You could tell he was waiting for your thumbs up like a drug, and sometimes he was too close, especially at bedtime. Also, he sometimes looked at you in a way that didn't need written or verbal words.

His eagerness to please had reached quite a fever pitch. A couple of cannibals had closed to your base and instead of waiting for you to annihilate them and staying out of the way as usual, Kelvin took on a rather sadistic look, grabbing the heaviest ax you had and running towards them, slashing them half to pieces with a single swing of the axe, as if chopping torsos were butter compared to trees. The "good boy" now looked like a serial killer, looking at the four hunks of cannibals, the ax resting sensually on his shoulder. His eyes turned pure and tender as he turned to look at you, pointing proudly at the bodies as if to say “Look what I did”.

You laughed slightly, denying, approaching him and gently took his cheeks, squeezing him affectionately. You knew he was expecting the compliment from him, so you gave him the clear “Good Boy” which made him grunt contently. But what he had done was more than just doing a good job, and you weren't made of stone, you had acquired more feelings for him than you wanted to admit, so you firmly kissed his lips and grabbed his vest, pulling him, who, stupefied and half paralyzed, was half dragged towards the building.

You pushed him in slightly, turning away from him and resting your ass firmly against his pelvis as you half-pinned yourself to a wooden column. The exclamation that came out of Kelvin's mouth was an indication that his brain wasn't damaged enough not to understand that.

He didn't take too long. He hurriedly lowered your pants and desperately lowered his own, decisively entering inside of you, giving a slight giggle that indicated that he had been wanting that for a long time.

Kelvin didn't take it lightly, he wanted to please you in every possible way, especially like this, so his hands clung to your waist, moving eagerly and firmly, moaning like crazy, which made you roll your eyes. The "nice boy" who normally acted with a certain submissiveness while waiting for your orders, carried with a dominant vigor in that situation, which, added to the fact that he was well gifted, made you realize that perhaps you had awakened a beast to which you could not deny anything.

But you loved it, it was making you moan from the center of your soul and you couldn't think of anything else, just him, how he moaned deliciously, how he kept that firm and deep rhythm, how delicious it felt.

And while he was walking you on the brink of ecstasy, he realized that he was hearing something. He smiled wider, paying attention, detecting your moaning voice and calling him over and over again. Although it sounded like he was underwater, it was in itself millions of times better than being completely deaf, and that the first sounds he heard in months, were his name between desperate moans, made him as happy as extra horny. He enjoyed it even more than he planned to enjoy, listening to you explode in satisfaction under his hands.

You were still a little lost in the clouds of hormones, tired, when you noticed him, already more relaxed, getting closer to you, holding you, hugging you from behind, to kiss your ear and neck for a long time, agitated but tender.

"God..." You half laughed to yourself, patting the arms around you, "I'm going to have to use this Good Boy more often... I love this..."

“And I love you…” Kelvin purred, kissing more of your neck.

"Eh?" You jumped, half surprised by the confession, half because he had answered you, turning to face him “What? Can you hear something? Kelvin?"

"Yeah…" He gently tugged at you, looking into your eyes, pulling you closer to the bed "Later… we'll talk… I want more"

You smiled, happy to know that he was recovering, and hugged his neck to kiss him deeply, feeling his mouth and body respond to you as if he belonged to you.

Not only did you spend almost the whole day doing it, but from then on, every time he did something very good, you felt obliged to pay him back, allowing him to take you, wherever you were.

[missmaybe-not]

Booked for Trouble: Perils of Booking a Hotel Room for a Maybe

Hey Maybe Nots and Maybe Yeses! So sorry for the radio silence last week. I was off on a whirlwind travel adventure, collecting stories, getting lost in charming streets, and (of course) navigating the ever-interesting world of international dating. Buckle up, because this week's post is a juicy tale of missed connections, mixed signals, and a whole lot of me yelling at my phone screen.

The Long-Distance Lure: It all began last June, a classic Tinder swipe right that turned into a virtual pen pal situation. He was a foreigner visiting my country, but alas, fate (and my work schedule) had other plans. He was only here for a short visit, and our schedules never quite aligned. Despite the limited time, we kept chatting – a slow burn of sweet nothings that escalated in November. Here's where the red flags started popping up like confetti at a wedding:

Destination Dreams: He tried to convince me to change my vacation plans to his city (thankfully in the same country I was already planning to visit). Blinded by the potential of a meet-cute, I actually changed my itinerary accordingly!

Double Trouble: Fast forward to January, and things were getting serious (or so I thought). We're talking sweet nothings, and I've even booked a double room for our rendezvous. Yes, you read that right. Self-inflicted facepalm moment right there.

The Ghosting Games Begin: By the end of January, radio silence. He completely ghosted me for a month and a half! Excuses poured in later about work and trouble with his ex (due to having a child living in another country, no less). Despite wanting to scream into the void, I offered a listening ear if he needed to vent. Maybe I was falling for the potential, or maybe I was just lonely – either way, I was hooked, and it was bad.

The Back-and-Forth Tango: After establishing a boundary about communication (hello, 3-second voice note!), things went silent again. But wait, there's more! My weak spot (aka Instagram) led me to reply to one of his stories. By then I doubted he knew who I was – the girl with the upcoming trip and the paid-for hotel room! But no. Briefly, things rekindled, only to fizzle out once again.

The (Almost) Grand Finale: Fast forward to last week – my trip to his city. Complete silence from him since March 31st. Did he show up? Did he make an excuse (again)? He texted me while I was on the train, asking for the hotel info and promising to meet for drinks after work. Talk about mixed signals!

Two Nights of Passion (and Questions): He showed up, looking even better than his pictures. The conversation flowed, and after drinks, we ended up back at the hotel. We stopped in front of the elevator waiting for it. The air crackled with anticipation. Suddenly, his eyes met mine. Before I knew it, his lips were on mine, his hand holding my waist and back. The kiss was intense, passionate, hungry.

The elevator's ring broke the spell. We turned to each other, half smiles and rosy cheeks. We entered the elevator. With my back to him, I felt his arms wrap around my waist. His kisses trailed up my neck, searching for my lips. No need to say what happened as soon as I opened the door to my room.

He didn’t stay the night, but the following day, there he was and it was basically a copy-paste of the previous night minus the elevator scene (as we had company).

The Aftermath and the New Maybe: We texted for a while after my trip, but the messages dwindled. Now, here I am, confused and conflicted. Am I being irrational for wanting more from a long-distance connection?

Meanwhile, in Another Corner of the Dating Pool: To add another layer of complexity, I've been chatting with someone else from the same country as the previous guy (seems I have a type!). He's a sweetheart, but also comes with his own baggage.

So, what's a girl to do? Here's the thing, love warriors: This is where you come in! Should I wait for the maybe-something with Mr. Miscommunication? Do I give the new guy a chance, even though my heart might not be fully invested? Or is there a Mr. Right lurking around the corner who hasn't swiped right yet?

Spill the tea in the comments! Let's hear your thoughts on this long-distance drama and any advice you might have for a Miss Maybe Not who's feeling a little lost. 

Until next week, stay strong, stay hopeful, and may the dating gods bless you with clear communication and genuine connections!

[lynne-monstr]

hi, it's the anon who's stopping by, how have you been? it's been a little while, but I'm still hanging on. we finally made it to the winter solstice!! 🥳 I can't wait for the days to get longer, finally

things over here are the same as always, I'm still waiting for the thing I want and it's painful, however there has been some progress lately so things are looking more hopeful. it still looks like it will take a long time, but it seems like the scales are tipped more in my favour. we'll see. in the meantime I've realised that my true problem is that I've clung to this thing and idealised it as the solution to all my problems and that's also a big reason why I'm so affected. my resolution for 2025 is to detach myself a bit and build myself a life (independently of this thing) in this new country in the meantime, so that, if the thing does work out, it'll be a nice addition, and if it doesn't, then I still have a fulfilling life (or at least the makings of one)

which is easier said than done lol, but I'll try my best. by the way I saw your post about juicy pears and I have to ask: do you know any other pear types that are soft and juicy? all the ones I find are hard and crunchy and I hate them, pears should be soft in my opinion. 3 countries ago I could find some Argentinian pears at the supermarket that were really good (I believe their name is Williams pears), but unfortunately they don't sell them where I am now. but hey if you also like soft, juicy pears, I recommend Williams! 👍

I'll close this by wishing you a lovely holiday season, I hope you enjoy the break and have a relaxing couple of weeks! 💕

hi there anon!! glad to see you around again! and omg yay for the solstice, we made it! i am ready for more daylight so i don't feel like my days ends everyday at 4pm.

i'm so happy to hear that things might be shifting slightly in your direction! and i think the bit about trying to think of it as a bonus is a great idea! and yeah, definitely not easy! it reminds me a bit of what my therapist said to me once. that I shouldn't go down a misery rabbit hole of "what if this terrible thing happens" if there isn't any proof that the thing is going to happen. not quite the same, but similar in the way that changing the way you mentally frame things is challenging. i am sending all the good thoughts your way, both that the thing you want happens and that you manage to building yourself something good in the meantime! and congrats on figuring out the root issue that was making you feel upset 💙

things are good over here. the things that were shitty for me early are under control and with any luck, they will stay that way. (cue me trying not to think of all the worst-case scenarios because there's no point in stressing about something that may not ever happen). i'm visiting family for the holiday time and looking forward to seeing all my nephews! and in the spirit of the 90's apparently being trendy again, i have decided that for my family's annual christmas party, I will be mixing up appletinis as the signature cocktail.

juicy pears my beloved! i 100% agree that pears should be juicy and wonderful! juicy pears become my entire personality during the winter and I regret nothing. not a big pan of crunchy crispy pears tbh. i haven't heard of williams pears, but i will keep an eye out for them, thanks for the info! the ones i usually buy are called comice pears. I think whole foods carries them but i'm not sure where to get them outside the US. good luck finding some, a winter without juicy pears is a shame haha.

i'm going to try and chill for the next week or so and enjoy the holiday time off. I hope you have a lovely and relaxing holiday! and an early happy new year 💙

[smeemp]

What was it like being raised pagan? Curious. What sort of religious practice did that involve? How do your parents feel about you exploring other religions? What strand of paganism was it?

thanks for asking!! :D

I was raised in a sort of weird Buddhist-chaote-something mix. I never was actually aware until I was older that I was raised pagan due to the fact at the time my town was physically violent about it.

My parents were both raised Christian (My mom luthern Missouri senate and my father Baptist) so I was still raised with those values.

My mom was and still is a kind of interesting mix of religion. I was raised more with my dad's side, but my mom knew there was some sort of god, and told me that everything was separated by different realms. She believed that all of the good people went to higher ones meanwhile everyone else stayed here, and that ours would slowly burn to the ground.

My dad was an atheist Chaote. When I say atheist, he didn't deny god, he just hadn't been shown any proof that there was one in his opinion. Also, he crashed an entire atheist Reddit and had a bounty put on him for like 4 years

His mother was a tarot reader, so he grew up around it a bit more than my mom. His mom was first generation in the US, but he was never taught about any Scottish religious stuff. They were not strict Christians, they just kind of showed up to church, and they stopped once his mom died if I remember properly.

My 'dad' has an entire blog for his experience with it so I'll send it to you if you want!

Nowadays, he's Christian. He doesn't do much tarot anymore due to the fact that he's realized that all of the answers he's gotten about himself have been negative, and he'd rather not know. Recently he did it because he had an entity following him around and it just turned out our downstairs neighbor had died a few months ago and he didn't know he was dead yet. He's had a weird relationship with God, but I think he's really happy as a Christian! He is non-denominational and hates (most) churches, and most other Christians specifically in my town.

Chaos (or Kaos) is little known to most people, it's involved with the belief that with enough mental servitude, you can do any spells, and our components are just to trick our heads into doing it, plus some. It was originally put forward in Peter Carroll - Liber Kaos, so you can do more looking into that part if you want!

I'm not quite sure how much my upbringing differed, to be honest. I wasn't taught much about Christianity like, at all. All I heard about it was some snip-bits from my friends. I remember being taught about auras and all of the STRANGE stuff my mom has seen in the occult.

There also was 'The Dark Man' which was a very specific situation that I don't know much about and I don't ask about due to it. More information is in my dad's blog, I haven't read it yet since my 'dad' who wrote that is not my current dad.

I'd see the man from time to time, but as the situation went he went. It's ironically one of the only things I remember from my early childhood.

When I was about 8-9 was when my parents decided I was old enough to start actually learning about it more. As my dad puts it, 'once you light the candle, it never goes out.' so they wanted to wait until I was older.

I was a paranoid kid so I took 3 squishy snoms and talked to my friend through steam throughout my entire first spell. It did not go well, as one would expect lmao. There is something following me after that spell but it's not causing much harm to me so I'm not worrying about it too much.

After that, I took a bit of a step away as any sane person would. I started reading tarot during mid-pandemic I think? Somewhere around there.

I got a lot of juicy stuff out of it, and I had the same problem as my dad in the way that I'd just rather not know what it was telling me.

So, I took a break from it for a while. I spent a while looking into Judaism, and I went to my friends church with her. I stopped going because the teacher was weirdly hostile toward me, and once I stopped going my friend ghosted me.

I ended up donating most of my spell stuff to my friend K, and last I knew he's very happy with it, so I don't regret taking a step away from it. That was also around when my dad decided to quit for good, he was just tired of it.

Nowadays I do mostly readings for friends and life advice for myself. I don't like to dabble in spells because in my opinion, that's changing fate, and I do not think that's ok. The most I do is protection spells since I'm paranoid and also people are crazy even in this circle TRUST.

I'm looking into meditation a bit more and I'm trying to read up on a lot of stuff. I don't really like labels too much so I don't try to keep my belief set to a specific religion, so I believe in the chaos stuff, and practices of Buddhism, and I think there might be something going on with god up there.

We celebrated most Christian/luthern holidays, easter, palms, Christmas, all that stuff. We didn't base it around god clearly, but we based it around spending time with family and just leaving our woes behind for a day. My parents would also typically go on a diet during lent, but I'm 13 (I turn 14 in like a week) so they don't tell me to. They did it mostly to challenge themselves and try and make themselves better.

My mom also used to celebrate winter solstice with a yule log when I was a lot younger, but as her chronic illnesses caught up she sort of stopped with it.

So, yeah! :D sorry if any of it is vague, I'm always open to more questions but that's my experience! I've found that most peoples experiences are a lot different from each other so this is just my side of things.

EDIT: sorry I forgot the last part lmao. My dad has studied any religion you can think of. Christan denominations, Hindu, Wicca, anything you can think of. He actually encouraged me to! My mom doesn't care about it much. I try not to talk to her about it since she gets really angry and defensive about most things lol.

[vermilionvector]

Pokemon Horizons EP. 1 - 3

My last Pokemon game was Emerald on an EMU (with my favorite being Kyogre) and I stopped watching Pokemon ages ago. Not because I didn't like it, but because I stopped watching the morning anime program in the morning and was never bothered to check it out ever since. I've heard that XYZ was cool, Sun and Moon was dumbed down and Journey was the end of Satoshi's (Ash for you Americans) journey. Even with Journey's milestone I still haven't watched it yet cuz I heard the ending was still somewhat open-ended and left a lot of rooms to wiggle, so I don't think there was any important closure to his story at all. With all this in mind, I'll be talking about this new series as if I'm a newcomer to the franchise.

They promised us a new beginning with a new set of protagonists, and they delivered. EP. 1 introduced us to Liko in the most effective way. Her monologue stressed her awkwardness towards the society and her anxiety about finding her perfect partner. If done wrong, she could be seen as whiny, but it was mixed with some positive attitude towards improving herself like trying to understand Nyaoha/Sprigatito so that they could bond better. Every time she complained about something, it's justified right after. That made her quite a quirky girl, and this helped establish the heroine we are going to stay with very well.

Moving on to the main plot, she possessed a mcguffin necklace given by her grandmother that contained a mysterious Pokemon inside who came to her aid when she's in danger of being pursued by the Explorers, led by the stoic Amethio and his edgelord buddy Pokemon Soublades. She was rescued by the Rising Volteccers' leader Friede whom I really disliked how his eyes were designed. He took her to the gang's airship but the Explorers still pursued them. They finally managed to break through the barrier and almost got Liko until she decided to trust in Nyaoha's resolution and fight for herself. Nyaoha's ability was somewhat too powerful for a starter Pokemon, but since we have had Satoshi's Pikachu for like 25 years it didn't really matter. Although the Explorers were expelled from the airship, Nyoha was captured.

TBH with how well EP. 1 handled the pacing, the dialogue, the world, and the art, EP. 2 was such a big letdown. It's supposed to be a high-tension chase scene between the Volteccers and the Explorers but we got so many still images and the camera movement was so static. It would've been better if the camera shook a little to simulate the storm's effect on the airship. The pacing was also too slow for my taste. If they extended the first episode to like an hour and then EP. 3 became EP. 2, it might've been better.

EP. 3 was better than EP. 2. The humor and the worldbuilding were back and we also had some juicy action between the Explorers and the Volteccers, and also the first time we saw Liko successfully fended for herself, and she finally came to truly bond with Nyoha.

And despite all this, the other protagonist, Roy, only appeared in the OP, ED and a short minute after all of Liko's ordeals ended. But this was probably better. Liko is the main protagonist so she should be given enough focus and screentime to flesh out her character as much as possible, and these first three episodes, although with some flaws, accomplished it.

The Pokemons were cute, but once they evolve they're not gonna be as cute. Unlike Digimons, they can't revert back to their previous forms. And we already knew how they're gonna look, so it's definitely a big loss in the cuteness department. (At least in Journey we had Cinderace and Lucario (sob)).

[elioslover]

Grapejuice (fic) Part One

Premise: Harry has been pining over Y/n - his best friends slightly older sister - for as long as he can remember. But she still refuses to see him as anything other than her brothers goofy obnoxious bestie omg omg loads of pining and sexual tension (even more sexy sex) and ofc angsty angst.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Smutty suggestions, drug/alcohol use, mind-blowing banter.

Part Two / Part Three

Fashion Board

Masterlist

---

The soft thumps of music muffled behind the apartment door were audible the moment you reached the last step of your ascent, arriving on the third floor of the new apartment block your brother, Jack, had recently moved into. It was sweet of him to wait until you were back in town before hosting the house-warming party.

You stopped briefly, taking one final look in the grand, gold-framed mirror- touching up your cherry gloss as an afterthought. The building was impressive- completely out of your price range, and quite a statement buying the penthouse- well you thought so anyway, but as you had reminded yourself, at least it wasn’t your money.  

The hallway was empty, aside from a small hardwood table, elegantly decorated with a vase of marvellous, and surprisinglyrealwhite lilies. At the end of the lengthy passageway- walls tiled in deep ocean green, marbled floors- was an elevator, complete with an old-school golden gate, and totally unnecessary.

“Just take the bloody stairs” you mumbled, approaching the front door.

You had hardly knocked once before the heavy wood swung open, your brother- cheeks rosy, eyes glassy but glimmering- was standing on the other side.

He let out a sort-of cheer, arms raising before he fully engulfed you, lifting you off of your feet. You had seen him only a month ago, but if he had had it his way, Jack would have you both remain attached at the hip- as you had been almost your entire lives.

He put you back down, pressing a brisk kiss to your forehead and thanking you for coming,

“It really wouldn’t have been the same without you here,” he said, slinging an arm loosely across your shoulder, pulling you into the entrance hall of his…penthouse.

Your eyes were darting across the room, taking in the style, size and of course judging his choice of paintings- hung on almost every available wall. Jack led you through the house, giving a half-hearted house tour on your way to the kitchen.

It was by far your favourite room so far, decorated in pale baby blue with white cabinets and an island that was, perhaps the size of your entire kitchen put together. Nevertheless, it was the bar that really caught your attention- though it was barely visible under an array of what looked like crystal-glasses, a variety of expensive bottles and fresh-cut fruit.

Before you had even fully stepped into the kitchen, your brother was whisked away by the mention of the delivery guy arriving. “Make yourself at home,” he called over his shoulder, and without hesitation you made your way over to the countertop, fixed on the idea of a G & T complete with those irresistible blueberries.

You had all but finished the final touches on your mix, humming along to a familiar song spilling through the speakers- when the sudden warmth of something- no- someone’s breath on the back of your neck sent contradicting goosebumps up your arms and spine.

“Fancy seeing you here”, his voice was deep and familiar, fresh mint filling your senses.

He leaned into you slightly, bringing you to your senses. You intended to remain unbothered, going back to garnishing your drink with juicy berries. You took a lengthy sip, closing your eyes momentarily before turning around to face him.

He took a small step back in order to see you better, letting his gaze flicker shamelessly over you, taking a second to admire the way you looked,

“I could say the same about you” the mere sound of your voice drew his attention back, a cheeky smile growing wider by the second,

“Is this the part where you make fun of my lifestyle? Y’know, rag on me about drinking too much… smoking too much…. fucking…” he was beaming proudly now, eyes never leaving yours in anticipation,

“…too much? I would never,” you feigned disapproval, adding an eyeroll as you took another sip of your drink, hummed with satisfaction.

He tilted his head back with a slight chuckle, the corners of his eyes creasing with pleasure,

“Oh, how I missed this,” he teased, “Always good to see you, Y/n” he meant that part.

“Likewise, Harry” you tended to your drink once more.

He mimicked, taking a long sip of the glass of scotch wrapped firmly in his hand and you took the opportunity to actually take him in. He had been dressing better lately, and thank god for that you had thought. Harry had even started to impress you with certain ensembles- not that you would ever make him aware of that.

He wore a tight, but comfy burnt orange and purple tee-shirt. He paired it with a pair of low-rise, faded denim jeans that flared at the calves, and were rather well-fitted. His classic trademark of several rings decorated his hands, and a gold, tennis-link necklace lay across his chest.

He looked good. Annoyingly so.

It had become one of the things you dreaded about coming home- the confusing thoughts plaguing your clarity over the last couple years was well, sheer madness. What had he done differently to his hair? It suited him, short overall but slightly longer at the top, styled up and out of his face. It framed his eyes... his jawbone… his entire face really.

None of this made him any less annoying though, which was the only saving grace. You feared what would have already happened between you two otherwise.

Harry was your brothers oldest, and best friend- they met the afternoon your family moved next door to the Styles’ and the two had instantly bonded over their love for football. And even now, though they lived very different and separate lives, they were as close as ever- annoyingly close. Unfortunately for you this meant dealing with your brother- times two- and there was rarely an occasion where Harry didn’t turn up at one point or another.

Though he was terribly sweet, the Harry from your childhood lacked a filter, and had far too much energy to spare. You were only a few years older than them, but Harry seemed to have no off-switch, and it was hard not to engage in trivial arguments with him. Jack was no help either, always encouraging and taking pleasure in seeing you get so riled up.

When you got older things had changed slightly, and Harry was far less insufferable than before- though he still showered you in attention, most of it stirring the same negative reaction you expressed as a child.

To make matters worse, Harry had never kept quiet about his attraction for you. You were his best friends’ hot older sister after all. In Harry’s opinion, you got prettier each year- and he rather enjoyed making sure you knew this. And you always responded the same, with a scoff and an eyeroll.

Your thoughts had already started to wander and you were somewhat grateful Harry broke the short silence before you could continue,

“How long have you been back in town?”

“Since Sunday,” you swallowed another sip of your drink.

His brows furrowed slightly, “Jack didn’t mention you were back.”

You shrugged his statement off, “Speaking of Jack, I have my reservations but overall, I do quite enjoy the apartment,” his slight furrow warped into raised curiosity, “though I can’t imagine the size makes sense for one person” you added as an afterthought.

“Then it’s a good thing he isn’t living alone,” he said simply.

It was your turn to let your brows furrow, motioning for him to elaborate.

“I’m living here too. There’s three bedrooms, it made sense,” he shrugged before sipping his beer.

You straightened up, “And I assume you stay here when you aren’t out galivanting across Europe, or LA or whatever?” you were being testy.

He placed his hand over his heart, “Ouch klutz, you know it hurts me when you trivialise my profession,” he was only half joking.

You rolled your eyes, “Well don’t take it to heart, apparently Jack doesn’t tell either of us much.”

Harry was full of mixed emotions - he had been from the moment he stumbled upon you in the kitchen, your back to him. He almost walked straight past you, stopping in his tracks the moments those familiar custom black and white Docs adorning your feet caught his attention.

His frustration only grew when he finally got a proper look at you. You wore straight-legged black jeans that you paired with an abstract black and white knitted sweater. A couple silver chains lay across your neck- they matched perfectly with the pair of large, hooped earrings and bracelets you wore.

Your hair was pinned away from your face, lest a few loose strands. Harry liked you this way, he could see your face with clarity, and he was certain you were nothing short of beautiful. Your lips were slick and glossy from the remnants of gin and tonic, and they looked awfully tasty.

Longing was mixed with confusion now, disappointed that he felt so ill-equipped in your presence, completely unaware of your attendance this evening. Harry’s mind was beginning to race, thinking about all of the things he could have- would have done differently. For starters he might have put more than two minutes into picking out an outfit. A sudden wave of insecurity flushed over him and he was praying you wouldn’t notice.

Any sign of confidence had momentarily dissipated, and Harry felt like a foolish teenager all over again, hopelessly pining over a woman who hardly ever paid him any attention.

He was more than grateful that Jack chose that very moment to reappear, going on about how the delivery guy had attempted to short-change him, before he grabbed a new bottle of beer and took a large gulp. Within a moment Jack was mid-discussion with you about his experience in the new neighbourhood so far.

Harry tried his hardest to keep his gaze from focusing on your features, letting his eyes roam the many familiar faces of guests nearby. But he faltered several times, settling on the way your eyelashes fluttered, or how the chunky ring on your thumb fit you just right.

He was so distracted he almost missed Jack asking him if he had heard what had just been said, for the second time now, mind you.

“I was saying it completely slipped my mind- forgot to even mention Y/n would be visiting this week.”

Harry mustered up a scoff before finishing off the last of his drink,

“Absolutely guttered over it, honestly mate” Harry feigned disappointment while glancing over at you,

“You know the ache in my heart for Y/n needs to be soothed, it’s simply selfish you would attempt to keep us apart.”

Jack only let out a bellowing laugh and nudged your shoulder with his own.

Though you found Harry more than attractive, you were also aware that the same thoughts always followed your admiration, you still saw him as your baby brothers’ best friend, goofy yet cocky, but all bark and no bite- surely.

The idea of him being a compatible lover was to a large degree, incomprehensible. Nevertheless, you did thoroughly enjoy Harry, at times, grateful that age had brough him more stability than just good looks.

“Oh, but Harry, as I’ve told you on numerous occasions, you would hardly be able to handle me.” You were playful, familiar teasing, but some truth still rang through.

His face changed, and then his stature followed suit. He leaned forward, his voice deepening, and his gaze remaining on you and you alone,

“I think we both know that’s not true.” And there he was again, as annoying, and full of cheek as ever.

Your eyes quickly darted over to Jack, his attention already straying elsewhere, then you turned your attention back to Harry, scoffing but working hard to remain unbothered.

“Well, uh, this is my… cue to mingle… I guess,” you nodded in their general direction before turning on your heels, leaving Harry with the same view of your back as before.

🍷

Harry remembers the first shot, and the second, but things were becoming less coherent after the third and fourth. He had a habit of overthinking these days, somewhere between the last breakup and the new album release, it had become far too easy for his thoughts to start spiralling- and by cruel repetition, you were once again the reason for his head being a million miles away from this party.

Speaking of, Harry had yet to see you again since your brief encounter in the kitchen- granted this is where Harry had remained the entire evening so far. He assumed you had to return, eventually, for a drink top-up, at the least.

He let the tequila slosh in his mouth for a moment before allowing it to burn its way down his throat. Still in his own head, no plans of leaving any time soon.

“Harry!” he could hear Jack calling from somewhere in the apartment.

He began following in the general direction, stepping into the crowded living room. Jack’s face lit up in an instant, pushing gently past a few people to get to him.

“Hey, where did you disappear to?” he asked, but hardly gave pause for Harry to respond before he was guiding the two of them through the mass of people out towards the balcony.

At first, he was resistant, but that was soon replaced with a hundred different feelings all at once when he spotted that you were already outside, your back leaning against the balcony’s railing- a Marlboro perched neatly between two fingers.

He was indulging in the idea of you once more, thinking back to the several fantasies he had always so ambitiously cast you as the main character in. You were always so cool, so calm, and collected, and well-defined. He had wanted to be more like you, to be with you.

Harry had always looked at you like he knew your secret- like he was somehow aware of how naughty your really were- hiding under the sly juxtaposition of a hard-working, put-together, golden-child. He could hardly recall this version of you nowadays, after the things he had heard you say- to him and about him.

Harry was more than grateful that Jack had already started walking towards you, giving him the needed excuse to speak to you again. He was hardly subtle with the way he was looking at you, so much so that you felt the need to draw attention to the man standing beside you.

Had he always been standing there?

Harry hardly flinched though, and if he had felt some type of way about it, he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he took another step forward before directing you,

“Looks like some things never change,” he knew you weren’t fond of his constant referencing of the past.

“Fuck off,” You responded with an eyeroll, taking a drag as he continued,

“You’re the splitting image- I mean minus the septum piercing, and the douchey boyfriend… well…” he glanced briefly, but noticeably at the blandly dressed guy still lingering by your side.

“Fuck you,” your tone was still playful though.

“Yeah? Been on my mind since I can remember.”

“Bet?”

“On my life,” he was careless with the wink he directed at you.

Harry would be lying if he said the thought of you being disinterested in him still crossed his mind, you were clearly humouring someone else this evening. The man next to you looked to be older than Harry, and like he worked some preppy nine-to-five. Surely nothing that could possibly catch your interest.

You were full of personality, intrigued and interested in so many things – Harry often accepted he could hardly keep up with you, but he was still certain the two of you had potential -not including the things he would let you do to him should you pay him even the slightest bit of attention.

He wanted to make a move, he always wanted to- but you were so beyond his reach- older and completely unwilling to acknowledge the fact that yes, he may still be irksome, but he was definitely not a young boy anymore.

Harry no longer wanted to get under your skin, but he would gladly settle to at least get under your garments. He was certain that if you were to, for just a moment, entertain the idea of you and him, he was sure to change your mind.

The guy to the left of you was particularly unmemorable, at least in your opinion, but it was better than standing and smoking alone. And you knew the tiniest part of you had been relieved, but only because you were aware it would annoy Harry - and you took almost any opportunity to do such.

Harry- who you hadn’t seen the entire evening - and don’t think you hadn’t acknowledged how bizarre it was of you to even notice that.

 Naturally, you could and would never go looking for him- what reason would you even have to talk to him?

Nevertheless, you reached over and passed him your cigarette, an old habit that only registered when he met you in the middle, accepting your offer in a heartbeat.

 Harry could hardly forget your little routine of bumming smokes together, hiding behind walls and bushes, afraid someone would catch you two in the act. There was a mutual sense of mischief and fondness- it was a time Harry could say with certainty that you definitely enjoyed his company- even seeking him out before sneaking through the back door, always ensuring he was by your side.

Everything about this evening was so out-of-character, from how calm Harry was - usually so full of boyishness fuelled by alcohol- down to how attractive you found it when a thick cloud of smoke slipped past his puckered lips, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion- what the fuck was happening?

You definitely needed another drink, suddenly remembering the half-empty bottle of Cirocque your date had pinched from the kitchen long before starting a conversation with you.

You had long forgotten the need for a glass and were already on your third sip, careful not to let any of the expensive liquid slip past your lips.

“Classy” Harry all but scoffed.

You stopped, the bottle leaving your lips with a soft squeak,

“Suddenly you don’t enjoy the idea of me being sloppy?”

You didn’t even bother looking at him, moving instinctively closer to Nick... was that his name? If Harry had wanted to say something he didn’t, thoughts of you being sloppy, slobbering for him were far too much to ignore.

Jack was filling the awkward silence by asking your ‘company’ several questions, which to Harry’s dismay, Nick was rather eager to answer.

­“I actually bumped into her tonight, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to strike up a conversation, and thankfully she didn’t seem to mind,” he laughed, but it oozed gawkiness, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted towards you looking for confirmation.

You forced a soft laugh but felt nothing for the man in general, he was good looking enough, and money probably wasn’t an issue for him, but saying you found him boring would have been an understatement.

Still, Harry was quick to resume irking you. He got under your skin in almost an instant, and you were always left a frustrated mess. He opened his mouth, ready to share a snarky remark, when the guy’s phone started ringing. He apologised briefly before stepping aside- but not before saying- and Harry couldn’t believe it,

���Ex-squeeze me for a moment.”

Your eyes went wide with the ick, and Harry was hardly subtle when he giggled and stole the empty space next to you.

Harry shifted to face you, meeting your side-profile before stating matter-of-factly,

“I couldn’t imagine you putting up with that kind of boredom, you should quit while you’re ahead.”

“And what exactly does your opinion have to do with anything? Considering you can’t speak from experience,” you huffed.

“Not from a lack of trying-”

“-but rather from my lack of interest,” you finished for him.

Harry was grateful that Jack had lost interest the minute it looked like you guys were starting to squabble, he wasn’t even facing you anymore.

“Think you’re missing out though.” Harry was uncertain about almost everything in life, but not about the idea of being with you.

“Have we not had this conversation before? And didn’t it end with me saying something like, ‘No Harry, I’m not interested in one measly round of missionary that leaves me nothing but dissatisfied.’”

Harry wanted to disagree, to give you a vivid idea of the things he would do to you right now just to prove you wrong- he would ensure he fucked you so good there could be no round two. But he knew that wasn’t the way to go about things.

Instead, he simply said,

“Well, you know what they say about assumptions.”

You rolled your eyes, and stood up straight now, turning to him sternly,

“For your sake, I surely hope assuming is as good as the real thing,” tapping his chest condescendingly before you turned on your heels and headed back inside the party and away from Harry.

🍷

You hadn’t seen Harry so moody in years. He seemed to have no interest in partaking in the ongoing festivities. In fact, he was brooding in the corner of the kitchen, back pressed firmly against the wall. He was deep in thought, brows furrowed, jaw slightly clenched.

His hair was starting to look slightly dishevelled, from all the times he had ran his hands through it. He was looking good though. You decided he would look perfect underneath you, or perhaps even looking up at you.

But you quickly, and aggressively, shook your head, trying to eradicate these inappropriate thoughts, almost scolding yourself aloud before quickly accepting a tequila from an old schoolmate you had been catching up with in the kitchen.

You called out for Jack, looking at the shot glass sitting on the countertop filled to the brim. You were starting to feel good- really good, buzzing slightly. That familiar playfulness you always felt after indulging in vices was making its appearance.

When he failed to respond, you only shrugged before taking the shooter on his behalf, tossing it back with little regard before turning to look back at the living room, eyes finding their way back to Harry- who was still brooding in the corner all alone.

Without coherent rationality you found yourself heading towards the bathroom having to pass him in the process.

Maybe you did enjoy the attention Harry gave you- or perhaps this was just another attempt to reciprocate the frustration he had left you with just earlier.

As you began past him, you slowed to a complete halt- his head snapping up, the surprise evident on his features as two of your icy fingers reached up and hooked themselves onto the collar of his shirt. You tugged it down and to the side- exposing part of his collarbone and bird tattoo. With one finger, you gently tapped his skin twice before releasing the shirt altogether,

“Hm,” your gaze slowly lifted and met his- he was too scared to blink. You leaned forward,

“Swallows,” you paused and thought about it for a moment,

“Your tattoos and I have that in common.”

You didn’t wait to see his response, stepping back and heading towards the bathroom. His skin felt scorched in their wake.

Harry was stunned, naturally, his thoughts in an absolute frenzy. He had been angry, actually upset after you had belittled him so effortlessly just earlier- this evening was quickly turning nightmarish. And now, you were teasing him- taunting him, actually. Harry hadn’t stopped thinking about you the entire evening. Why was he so fixated? This couldn’t be healthy.

He hadn’t - and didn’t feel this way about any of the other women in his life. There was just something about you. He liked you. Always had. Harry had a feeling there was still more to you and he had the aching desire to find out.

He had been back home for a while now, so focused on his album that his personal life had ended up on the backburner without a second thought. Tonight, in the comfort of his new home he could no longer ignore his thoughts veering astray. Particularly the thoughts entailing your thighs, bare and wrapped around his waist.

He stood there for a moment, your words swirling around, getting louder until he could hear nothing *but your sweet, sweet voice. And though you were probably just fucking with him, Harry was no longer thinking clearly – a man on a mission as he left his spot by the wall and followed after you.

You were just stepping back into the passage when you spotted Harry walking toward you with what looked like determination- and possibly certainty. He was just feet away from you within an instant, and you hardly had a second to comprehend before he pressed his chest to yours- pushing you back softly into the silver and white wallpaper.

You looked up, gasping as he pinned you between his arms, both hands pressed against the wall just above your shoulders. His face was closer to yours than ever before and your eyes darted back and forth, studying his soft frown, forehead crinkling, and brows furrowed. His frustration was blatant, but the lustful sparkle in his eyes was unmistakable.

“What-” you started but Harry was quick to cut you off, leaning that much closer,

“-give me a chance,” it came out in one breath, fanning across your face.

You blinked back. He was incredulous. This was worst-case-scenario- you had been avoiding this type of interaction the entire night, and with one sentence you had thrown it all down the drain. And now here he was, so close. His chest pressed against yours, leg slotted between yours, brushing against your skin, breathing fast, and heavy, he smelled good, and looked better.

The fluttering in your stomach was unfamiliar- intrigued and excited. You wondered what exactly he had in mind if you were to in fact give him a chance. Something told you that there was more to him; that he might be anything but all-talk. The way he looked at you, how filthy he spoke to you, even the way he touched you when permitted.

You were concerned about losing control, leaning into him, touching him- but concern wasn’t enough when you slung your arm around his neck, nails scratching the base of his neck. Harry’s eyes dropped, head tilting closer, your foreheads brushing.

His words still echoing, “give me a chance, give me a chance.”

“I said, I don’t think you could handle-” you tried,

“-I think you’re bullshit,” he interrupted, and you let out a soft gasp,

“That’s mean,” your other arm linking around his shoulders,

“You’re mean,” he muttered just above your ear, before a soft kiss was pressed below your lobe,

“Matter of opinion,” you sighed, raking your nails along his jaw,

“I disagree,” a chaste kiss to your jaw,

“You always do,” thumb sliding along his bottom lip,

Harry dropped his arm, hand coming up to hold the side of your jaw, tilting you upward until you were blinking up at him. He had never seen you like this before; it felt so natural and surreal, seconds away from rectifying the last twenty plus years.

You were ready to meet him in the middle, shutting out everything that wasn’t him. You were at his mercy, foolishly waiting on edge for him to finally kiss you. His thumb copied yours, brushing against your lip before slipping slightly into your mouth, grazing your teeth.

You rose off of your heels, leaning up to impatiently close the gap, his hands moving to cup your face- he was looking at you lazily, lips slick, plump and puckered just for you,

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered,

“No.”

“Please?” so softly, your eyes fluttering shut - when out of nowhere,

“Harry?” it came from far at first, but was quickly followed by another, “Harry!”

It was Jack- drunk and loud- bellowing from the kitchen and heading straight for the hallway.  

As if you had been set alight, you removed your arms and gave Harry a harsh shove until he stumbled back and looked at you with a mix of sheer shock and confusion. Before he could speak, Jacked turned the corner and cheered,

“I found you!” he was drunker than when either of you last saw him, stumbling around, eyes barely open.

Harry was so startled and full of disappointment he could barely comprehend. He was seconds away from kissing you- and now, when he glanced your way, you were a blushing mess, averting eye contact, arms wrapped firmly across your chest.

He managed to come to a stop, leaning his shoulder and head against the wall,

“I’m so sleepy, have I spent enough time mingling? Can I go to bed without saying goodnight? I don’t think anyone would care and I mean, like I said, I’m really tired.”

Jack was pouting and the eyeroll Harry sent his way could hardly convey his annoyance.

It was then that you coughed softly, Harry’s head snapping your direction in an instant,

“Good plan. I think I should get going anyway, been a long day,” you shrugged, looking anywhere but in Harry’s direction.

You were mortified- and you weren’t sure if it was because of Jack, or Harry. Either way you were still fully to blame, and it was time to make a run for it. You could feel Harry’s unwavering gaze, so strong it made you ache with awkwardness.

Jack nodded along, head droopier, eyes drowsier, “Y/n, you rock!”

“Facts.” You chuckled.

“True rock n’ roller babyyyy!” he sung out, and it seems both you and Harry took that as a cue,

“Alright Jack let’s get you to bed,” Harry took him by the shoulder, taking one last longing look at you. You glanced up for a brief moment, eyes wide. And then you were mumbling your goodbye’s and heading for the front door.

As the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it and let out the longest sigh, pressing your face into your hands, pushing harder and harder, forcing all fuzziness to disappear. The embarrassment was seeping from your everywhere, and worse- you knew you would have to see him again.

🍷

Jack had not stopped moaning and groaning from the minute you both sat down across from one another. The breeze directs the sun’s glare directly above the table, and whilst you are most grateful for this marvellous weather, Jack does not seem to agree. Though, you could chalk that up to the hangover he was currently nursing.

You two had made plans for a brunch catch-up after the housewarming, but apparently you had failed to consider that your brother was obviously still a man-child. Did he need three-to-five workdays to recover?

After all these years, you would have hoped that Jack might have learned to handle his liquor, swap a few tequilas for a sip of water. He truly was a baby, looking devoid of sleep, hair sticking up in all directions, and after what felt like the millionth grunt, you finally looked up from your phone,

“Dude. It’s already midday. Is this going to be another one of those full day recoveries? Because we are not teens anymore; I am no longer obligated to take care of you-“

Harry interrupted your train of thought as he seemed to pop-up out of nowhere, towering over you and stealing the sun in the process. He’s sporting a chunky-knitted sweater, the black tank top peeking out matches his flared pants and boots. He looks cosy.

But he is soaking up all the warmth, stealing it for his own, peering down at you, green eyes half-hidden behind his ray-bans.

“For the love of god, sit down already.” You groaned, wrapping your favourite blue, corduroy overcoat across your chest as a small shiver took over your arms.

Harry chuckled, looking at you curiously as he slid out a chair and sat himself down next to Jack- who whined meekly when his and Harry’s elbows briefly touched.

“Christ. What is with you two today? Is this a Y/L/N thing?” he was amused, settling back further into his seat, removing his shades, and running a hand lazily through his hair.

Jack, whose head was now resting directly on the table, lifted up slightly and attempted to get out a coherent sentence,

“M’just alitt wreckddd is’all…” he tried.

Harry looked at him incredulously, turning to you with a smile so wide it reached his eyes. And he looked warm- warm and snug and somehow radiating an energy that quickly became contagious. It made you smile softly, and then you were chuckling along, happy be in his company.

“Last time you mix drinks, huh Jack?”

He whined once more.

Harry shifted towards you, elbows stretching out across the table, he let his stare linger for a moment longer than you both knew was necessary. You felt hot under his gaze, observed and uncomfortable with the sudden shift of attention. But before you could settle into this unfamiliar feeling, he sent a swift wink your way.

“See something you like?” your brows arched.

“More than,” Harry nodded in satisfaction. “I don’t want to do the things I want to do with you with people I just like.”

Now you were red in the face for another reason, eyes desperately darting over to see if Jack heard, unsurprised to find that he was almost fast asleep.

And you hope your eyeroll and lack of response will come off as a tactical choice- Harry didn’t need to know how he made you feel. Flustered and confused.

“Did you have fun at your little housewarming?” you attempted to deflect.

He nodded, “My favourite part was when you were about to let me kiss you… pity about the interruption,” eyes glancing over at Jack’s sleepy figure.

Now you were blushing for sure, steam threatening to spill from your ears and nostrils. You couldn’t have regretted coming home more than in this moment.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you. Interruption or not.”

“I believe otherwise.”

“I believe otherwise about your believing of otherwise” you huffed out quickly, brows furrowed.

Harry laughed fetchingly, arms sliding across the table until they were almost bumping your own. His stare was unwavering,

“You’re in such denial. If it weren’t so painful, I’d find it that much more endearing”

“All I heard was endearing.”

“Well, you are,” he leaned closer, “extremely endearing.”

Before you had a moment to react, Harry brought his hand down against the table, startling Jack awake. They looked at each other sternly before Jack scoffed,

“Dick.”

You took the final sip of your coffee before turning towards the two men; Jack was a sight for sore eyes, and if you spend any longer around Harry, your head might explode in confusion.

“Jack is it safe to assume we won’t be going to the market anymore?” you barely finished before he started protesting. Typical.

“Market?” Harry interjected?

“Some little art thingy Y/n heard about”

“On 4th street” your eyes rolled.

“Sounds fun” Harry shrugged.

“That’s what I thought” you mimicked.

Jack was already standing up when he got a bright idea,

“Harry, why don’t you go with Y/n? Let me get some damn sleep while she talks your ear off.”

You were a mess of protests, assuring them both that there was really no need. But Harry seemed married to the idea.

“Sounds perfect. 4th street you said?” Jack nodded.

“Really Harry, it’s not necessary- “you tried but he only shushed you,

“-Don’t worry sweets, I’ll gladly let you talk my ear off.” Winking, he joined as you all stood from the table and regrouped outside the entrance.

After a brief goodbye, Jack started heading home. And within a minute, Harry had wrapped his warm palm around yours, tugging you forward until you stumbled into line with him.

“It’s close by, lets walk.”

Harry didn’t even look your way as he moved you both forward, weaving past cars and a woman walking her Labrador. You take two steps at a time, trying desperately to keep up as you both made it safely across the road.

“Harry- “you tried, losing your footing for a moment as he powered forward, “For fuck’s sake Harry, slow down.”

He stopped abruptly, his back creating a wall for your chest to bump into.

Harry didn’t say anything when you protested, didn’t let go of your hand as he started walking forward again. He took small steps, making sure you were able to keep up with him.

Your hand felt warm and smothered within his, a fireball sparking and crackling between your palms; ready to set off an explosion that may swallow your head and heart whole. You try to focus on otherwise, taking notice of the shop windows blurring past.

Harry squeezed your hand gently, bringing your gaze to his, “Let’s go here.” he motioned towards a little bakery stand, guiding you both to the warm glass protecting a sweet collection of muffins, cookies, pastries galore.

He refused to let you go as he caught the attention of the server, “Everything smells so good!” he complimented her before continuing, “Could we please get a couple custard slices and a chocolate croissant?”

Your heart leapt as she nodded along enthusiastically and began bagging the pastries, turns out your croissant-obsession was so strong even Harry had caught on.

Nevertheless, you gazed up at him curiously, and he only smiled back sweetly before finally releasing you from his grip, fishing into his pocket for his wallet.

Your hand missed his- and you hated that, dismissing the thought completely as he handed you the warm paper bag; the sweet smell of fresh pastry had you almost burying your face forward, and Harry laughed, motioning you back towards the bustling street.

You were already stuck into the croissant, flakes fluttering everywhere- some even settling on your chin. Harry noticed you were no longer keeping up, looking over his shoulder before halting completely. You caught up; eyes still glued to your pastry, and you barely even noticed him, continuing forward- and now he had to take a long stride to catch up.

He was eyeing you intently as you devoured the remains, crumpling up the bag with a satisfied sigh. You hadn’t noticed his gaze, turning absentmindedly,

“What?” Your brow raised quizzically, using the back of your hand to dust off any excess crumbs.

“Nothing,” he mused, “you’re cute, is all.”

“Stop.” You huffed. Thankfully, the two of you had finally reached 4th street and there were stalls set up everywhere, bright colours of multiple mediums decorating the walls, the streets- the people.

Harry stopped next to you, unnecessarily leaning against you,

“Wow.” He sighed, “This is… amazing.”

You nodded along, “haven’t been to one of these in years.”

He looked over curiously, “Used to come to these things often?”

“Whenever I had the chance, yeah” you made your way to a stand nearby, getting lost in several lino-print’s, deep blue’s melting into mustard yellows and burnt orange. Harry joined you, leaning forward to get a better look.

After a few moments, you turned your attention to another stand displaying bold psychedelic canvases, varying in shapes and sizes. They were so beautiful, telling thousands of stories all at once. Harry was peering over your shoulder, studying the blotches of colour with deep curiosity.

“This one… is so… interesting.” He pointed slightly, eyes never leaving the artwork. Harry was often quick to forget the other arts. Music was now full-on lifestyle and left little time for much else these days.

“Hm,” you replied curiously, continuing to scan the other pieces.

Eventually, Harry stepped away, starting to head towards a stand further down the street. Clay ashtrays, figurines, jewellery, and other accessories decorated the table, and by the time you had caught up, he was already in the middle of purchasing several necklaces and bracelets ranging from royal blue to candy red.

“I like this one,” you pointed to a lime green bracelet, peeking out of the other beads strewn across his palm.

“I do too,” he agreed with a large grin.

You waited for Harry’s new purchases to be paid for and placed into a paper bag. He bumped his hip into yours, motioning for you both to continue down the street.

Harry was keeping as close as possible, ensuring his arm brushed your shoulder with every opportunity. As you turned the corner onto another street, and before you could hold yourself back, you were power walking towards a stall displaying, what you would later refer to as, a masterpiece.

Considering you were often surrounded by art; it wasn’t often that a piece had you this fixated. Harry had never seen you so engrossed in something- few had.

And Harry was patient as you observed, taking your time asking the artist questions- throwing around words that sounded so foreign to him, it only made you that much more attractive, seeing you in your element.

When you were finally content, you said a sweet goodbye, and gestured Harry to continue on down the street. A comfortable silence often fell neatly between the two of you, every now and then pointing out something, asking for one another’s opinion, preference.

“How’s work?” he asked,

“Loving it, actually. I was kinda nervous the job would be as trash as the one I had here…” you really hadn’t enjoyed the hustle-and-bustle of being smack-dab in the metropolitan area. Every other person was a cut-throat, a cry-baby, or just a complete asshole. It had drained almost every ounce of your passion and drive, if you had stayed a moment longer you were sure to have slipped into another bough of melancholy.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said genuinely- Harry had hated seeing you so stressed, always seeming on the brink of tears.

“I liked the new album, by the way.” that sparked his attention,

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Don’t let it get to your head now,” you were teasing, but wanted to make sure he knew you were being genuine, “I liked it- I loved it.”

🍷

Harry was now running late, in his own home, spending an excessive amount of time deciding between which of two shirts to wear. As soon as he had settled on a loose, black cotton button up - which he had left partly-unbuttoned and had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows – he immediately decided to change his pants and shoes.

After slipping into his new silk, embroidered-lavender slacks, he paired the outfit with shiny, point-tipped black boots. Harry was putting on the last of his jewellery and spritzing his favourite cologne while the music droned through the gaps under his door- the number of voices growing by the minute.

Harry found himself rather nervous, palms threatening to clam up as he thought about seeing you again. He knew these feelings he was having were getting out of hand. He hadn’t been in such close contact with you in years- the last time was possibly after you graduated college.

And back then, you were wrapped up in your then-relationship, dragging him along to all events. Harry was sure he had only seen you on one occasion without them. It was an important night for him- when you two were temporarily alone again.

He was sure he was in love with you back then. You consumed his every waking thought. Harry would, and did, do anything to be near you – to make you laugh, to pick your brain, sometimes just to be in your presence.

Then life hurled forward, days turned to weeks, and suddenly it was at least a year before he saw you again. You had since abandoned your relationship- and were about to ditch your home and career here in London. Harry saw you a couple weeks before you left- he didn’t have to persuade you much when he offered to come over with Jack to help box up your apartment.

But by then, he was already hot in the middle of making albums and touring arenas, he couldn’t designate the time to properly mourn your departure. It only occurred to him that you were no longer home when he came back after the band’s final tour.

Every now and then he’d hear updates or see a few photos courtesy of your mom and Jack. For a moment his heartrate would pick up, thoughts becoming a jumbled mess – what does your new home look like? What do you do in your spare time? Are you having fun?

And now here you were with all your friends, celebrating being a decade older, in his house. If he thought about it too long, his nausea would resurface. All Harry could do now was take one final look in the mirror before leaving his room, making his way towards the party.

He couldn’t believe how many guests had already arrived – had he really spent that long getting ready? A small sea of people had already formed, mid-conversations, mixing drinks, having a smoke on the balcony.

His eyes scanned the room, acknowledging people he knew as he searched desperately for you. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure if you had even arrived yet.

He was about to give up and head over to the bar when he spotted something sparkly bobbing behind a group of people near the door to the balcony. He followed the shimmers, greeting guests as he wove through them. He stopped at the glass door.

Harry’s head, as well as his heart, had melted into a puddle as his gaze landed on you, leaning against the balcony with a cigarette perched between your cherry-gloss lips.

He couldn’t hear over the thumping in his head, the only thing comprehensible was how incredible you looked. Which was an understatement of note.

You had chosen an extremely well-fitted, watermelon pink dress. It settled neatly across your upper thighs, cinching in at the waist, white frill accentuating your cleavage and connecting to two delicate bows that worked as straps strewn across your shoulders.

You had swapped out your docs for a pair of white, latex boots (each with a hot pink heart) stopping just above your ankles, as well as white fishnet stockings.

And to top it all off, your head adorned some sort of princess tiara covered in sparkly glitter- the beacon that had just led Harry directly to you.    

Harry still hadn’t moved when Jack, who he hadn’t even noticed was standing beside you, caught his attention. And as soon as Jack lit up with eagerness, your focus shifted too, almost dropping your cigarette as you sent a wide grin his way- eyes beaming with excitement.

“Haaarryyy!” you enthused, arms waving as you did a little hip wiggle.

Harry felt like he had just stepped into a fever dream. But he was quick to reciprocate, matching your grin as he made his way over.

You were bouncing on your toes, and he had barely come to a halt before you lurched forward, flinging your arms around his shoulders for a boisterous, but doting embrace. Harry’s arms wrapped around your upper back, pulling you close, stumbling, and living for the sound of your giggles.

“Happy birthday, klutz.” He said in a sing-song tone, rocking you back and forth.

You pulled away, singing back a sweet “thank you” before leaning up to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Harry prayed it was too dark out- hoped you wouldn’t notice the way his face turned so red.

And you didn’t, bouncing from heel to heel back to your spot next to Jack. You picked up and sipped at a drink that was almost spilling from your glass, and as your lips met the sweet liquid your eyes widened with something else in mind.

“Shots.” You stated seriously but couldn’t help it as you began smiling mischievously.

“Shots!” Jack matched your energy and suddenly Harry was reminded that you and your brother were a deadly combination.

Usually, it was you who would end up responsible for reeling Jack and Harry in when they got too rowdy- chasing after them in a weak attempt to corral their belligerent bodies into whatever vehicle was on standby. But courtesy of making it another trip around the sun, you were two steps ahead of the boys, slipping past friends who all took turns attempting to halt you for a chat.

By the time the two men had caught up, you were already lining up four luminous shot glasses- they hadn’t noticed Nova [one of your nearest and dearest friends from school] had already joined you. The two of you were now chatting away, paying no mind as Jack took over the shot-dispensing duty.

In between enthusiastic exchanges, Harry greeted Nova and managed to get in a few catch-up questions before you completely distracted her with something so out of context he didn’t bother trying to keep up.

Thankfully it wasn’t long before a glass of Don Julio was being passed his way, your fingers brushing against his in the process.

Before anyone even attempted to take a sip, Jack was calling everyone to a holt, “We have to toast!” and everyone groaned. But he was unphased,

“Despite being the greatest pain in my ass, you’re also the greatest person I’ve ever known. You’re a real grown-up now, shithead, and I can’t wait to see what thirty has in store for you.”

You pouted sweetly, eyes bashful as your three friends started saying cheers, clinking their tequilas together. Harry tapped his glass against yours, seconds away from lifting it to his lips-

“Hey, hey- “you scolded, and he held back any panic, “You have to look each other in the eye before you cheers.”

Harry smiled in relief, locking your gaze as he brought his glass back to yours,

“Definitely don’t want seven years of bad sex,”

He sent a wink your way as your glasses separated, tilting his head back, swallowing quickly.

“Especially when you’re finally back in town.”

Jack spotted Mitch and Adam mingling nearby, quicky motioning them over. Harry wanted to keep talking to you though, his mind hadn’t strayed from you, nor had his gaze. But you were all amped-up, swaying from side-to-side, cheesy grin, eyes crinkling as you reacted to something Nova said.

Thankfully, Harry was gifted with an opportunity when Jack suddenly realised Nova hadn’t yet met the other guys. He called her over, leaving you leaning across the bar, perched on your elbows.

“Care for a drink, senorita?” your ears perked up at that, Harry was already pretending to roll up his sleeves, gently bumping his hip with yours. You turned, leaning your back against the counter now as Harry reached over and grabbed a cocktail glass. He got to work, grabbing an assortment of drinks and ingredients and you found your eyes wandering to his arms and hands.

Harry must have felt you staring, looking over at you in between mixing ice and some pink concoction,

“You look incredible, by the way,” he busied himself, grabbing different utensils, glancing back to reaffirm his statement.

“You reckon?” standing up straight, you did a good job doing a little show for him, making sure he got a good view of all the frills and your figure.

He stopped in his tracks and nodded profusely, “Incredible. Definitely designer right?”

“You’ll die,” you stepped closer, straight-faced. He waited,

“Lacroix, ’91. From their spring collection.”

Harry was impressed, excited to finish off this marvellous drink with raspberries and strawberries,

“Christ. What did you do to get your hands on it?”

“Sold my soul.”

“To the Devil?”

“No, her name was actually Giovanna- bitchy creative director from Milan. Love her to death.”

Harry found you more endearing by the second. He added a finishing touch of white sugar, turning to you proudly, his creation on display,

“Voila! Special birthday cocktail for the special birthday girl.”

“Ooh! It’s pretty,” you marvelled,

“Matches your dress,” he pointed out as he placed the drink in your hand.

You took a sip, eyes widening in delight. It was simply delicious, and you couldn’t be sure if Harry had even known what he was doing when he made it.

“This is incredible,” you whined, taking another long sip, “Do I taste watermelon?”

“And litchi, with vodka- which I recall is a personal favourite of yours,” he had hit the nail on the head, naturally.

“Thanks Harry,” you said sweetly, “I don’t think I’ve tasted anything so good.”

Your eyes widened in an instant, as did his, and you were more than thankful when he chose to substitute a snide comment with a cheeky smirk and wink.

Nova returned to your side, making a few remarks about how sweet Adam seems, asking Harry where he was from. She suddenly remembered something and excitedly tapped you, almost causing your drink to spill.

“- She’s here? No ways! I haven’t seen her since the debauchery of Nina’s baby-shower” you enthused, eyes hastily shifting around the room for this so-called friend, gasping softly when you spotted her in the near distance.

With eagerness you wrapped your hand around Nova’s, dragging her off into the crowd. Harry turned his attention to Mitch and Adam- who had already struck up a conversation - only catching a glimpse of your back disappearing amongst the guests.

Harry was starting to feel frustrated; confusion and longing were swirling around his head with such fervour it was moments away from eating him alive. It was time for him to make a conscious effort to stop thinking about you and to start enjoying the party in honour of… well, you.

But he was determined, fixing himself a straight scotch, sloshing it back before quickly refilling and joining in the heated football debate that was escalating by the minute.

🍷

With your absence, Harry found himself mingling with people he hadn’t seen in years – some of these exchanges even being rather pleasant. He was on drink three, Jack seemed to be on at least double that. Speaking of Jack, he had been itching for a cigarette, his favourite drunken-accessory, and Harry gladly followed him out- finally feeling relaxed and frankly, almost buzzing.

The balcony, though large, was crowded. The air was perfect, spring in full swing. To his surprise, Harry spotted two empty chairs off to the side, dragging Jack along. They were going back-and-forth, trying to figure out the names of several guests.

“I think our twelfth-grade English teacher is here, what was his name?” Jack clicked his fingers searching his thoughts for the right answer, “Mister… I wanna say Twat?” he pondered, “No, that can’t be it… Twatman?”.

 “Watman. Mr. Watman.” Harry scoffed, “I’m surprised you remembered him to begin with. I don’t recall you attending a single class.”

“You’re just jealous I was skipping class to make-out with cheerleaders.”

“Which cheerleaders?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

Harry lips parted to respond, his head snapping instantly at the sound of your melodic voice bellowing across the balcony. You were on your own, a small, abstract clutch in one hand, and now you were bounding over, calling out,

“I was wondering where you were.”

Harry wasn’t sure who of the two you was addressing, but his heart couldn’t help but jump at the possibility that you may have been seeking him out after all.

You stopped before them, scanning your surroundings before suddenly, and shamelessly, you plopped yourself down horizontally across Harry’s lap. In utter shock, he peered over at Jack who not only ignored the fact but sparked up a conversation.

“Do you remember that strange professor? Taught year twelve English lit, I think.”

You thought about it, further settling into Harry’s lap, paying zero attention to him as you began unzipping and searching through your clutch. You pulled out a dainty container of weed, blunt-wrap, and a tube of cherry lip gloss,

“Yeah, yeah. Twatman right?”

“See, Harry!” Jack exclaimed, pointing your way.

But Harry’s head was miles away, his entire body heating up, your skin burning against his thighs. Every time you moved, breathed- he had to calm his own, but he was more than thankful for the permanent view of your side profile- cute nose and all. You started rolling, telling Jack some bizarre information about their old teacher. You both theorized about a secret relationship, while Harry sat idly by, adamant on being your ideal chair.

It was only a couple minutes later when you finished up, poking your tongue out as you ran it across the length of the joint. You could feel Harry’s eyes on you, choosing to ignore them as you returned to your clutch to fish out a lighter.

You crossed one leg over the other, adjusting and taking subtle notice of Harry’s squeamishness before placing the joint between your lips, starting to light up.

Harry’s head was foggy for two reasons now, a thick cloud of smoke leaving your lips and fanning out across his unsuspecting face. He blinked back a few times, trying hard to maintain stillness. After taking another quick drag, you leaned forward, thighs momentarily pressing further into Harry’s as you passed the joint over to Jack.

The joint had barely touched his lips before Jack was coughing and spluttering, eyes watering as he hunched forward and put his hand across his forehead.

“Jesus, Y/n- “he was trying to laugh but it came out sounding like a failed-beatboxer, “-fucking strong. Where did you get this?” he attempted to swallow residual coughs as he stretched over and handed the joint back to you.

“Same place I usually get it,” you paused and took a lengthy drag, sharply inhaling before letting the smoke slip through your lips,

“Purple haze. She gave me extra courtesy of the big three-oh.”

“Seems your senior citizen discount has already come in handy,” Jack mused, still holding back from coughing.

“Get fucked,” you huffed, turning your attention to Harry, who instantly felt hot under the collar,

“Still up to no good?” your lips turning upward as you gestured to the joint perched between your fingers.

Harry nodded up at you, his doe-eyes blinking bashfully. With that, you lifted your hand and as he parted his plump lips, you slotted the joint between them. Your fingers brushed against his chin, nails grazing his lips as you held him in place, letting him take a lengthy inhale as your eyes trained the freckles scattered across his face.

Up close, he looked soft, and raw - your eyes felt like they had turned into magnifying glasses, noting the stubble scattered across his chin, the crinkles between his focused-brow, the stray curls slipping across his forehead- and before you could stop yourself, you had concluded that he was beautiful, and that denying your attraction for him was at this point, futile.

He looked up at you through his thick, fluttering lashes, leaning back slightly and you pulled your hand away, bringing the joint back to your own lips. You were still looking at Harry intently when the corner of his eyes crinkled, his lips parting to expose a pearly grin,

“See something you like?” he asked.

And you did your very best to remain unphased, inhaling sharply before you tilted towards him, speaking just above a whisper,

“I don’t want to do the things I want to do with you with people I just like.”

Your voice mocked his deep and slow tone, taking pleasure in exaggerating each and every syllable.

Harry gulped. You pushed the joint towards him, and he bent forward- more than necessary- gladly accepting anything you had to offer. His head was still swirling, convinced you were emitting a vibrant glow, aiming it directly at him.

Harry bravely tapped his fingers along your shin, feeling lulled and content. You had fully relaxed now, leaning your shoulder against his,

“Having fun, birthday girl?”

“Yes sir,” you rested your head- just barely touching his shoulder,

Harry must have been dreaming- stoned and hallucinating, either way he let his hands trail up and down your leg, tapping his foot side-to-side, humming almost inaudibly.

And then in the blink of an eye, you were standing up, leaving him cold and longing once more. You looked over at Jack who had finished coughing and was now staring directly up at the sky. His eyes were darting back-and-forth, acknowledging each star.

You let the joint slip from your fingers, using the toe of your boot to put it out,

“Well boys, I’m off to get a refill,” you tapped Harry’s shoulder gently,

“Glad you can still keep up.”

He looked over at Jack - who was still looking up – and without a word, Harry was out of his seat, hot on your trails. If tonight had taught him anything it was that you were quick on your feet, already at the bar as you scanned the scatter of bottles.

Before he could announce his presence, you turned to him briefly in acknowledgement, “do you still have that photo album I made for your eighteenth?”

“Random.” He said curiously, watching as you turned back and continued examining the bottles.

“I know,” you nodded your back still to him, “I saw a bunch of albums in the living room, just wondered if you still had it.”

Harry thought about it for a second, “I do.��

Thousands of memories flooding back to him, “It’s in my room actually.”

“Is this a just ploy to get me alone?” You turned to fully face him now, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Yes.” He teased sternly.

You nodded, turned, and grabbed an unopened bottle of 1982 Bordeaux, and motioned towards the direction of the bedrooms,

“Lead the way.”

You stayed close, following Harry down the hallway to the foot of his door. It was already ajar, and he used his foot to push it open fully, flicking on the light switch before stepping aside to welcome you in. You took a couple steps forward before he shut the door and walked off in search of the album.

You took in the room, pleasantly overwhelmed by how much it still screamed Harry. You remembered his last room and even spotted his old record player, his rustic bookshelf, a framed poster of Doctor Frankenfurter, and of course his first guitar- dinged-up and faded- just the way you liked it.

Harry was shuffling through one of the draws of his dressing table, his back to you, as you crouched down and began unzipping your boots. The carpet beneath your fishnets was thick, white, and fluffy- and before you could help yourself, you were now fully sitting down, legs crossed, arms working to remove the bottles cork.

Harry cheered softly as he found what he was looking for, grabbing the album- blue, with a hand-painted portrait of himself on the cover. When he turned and noticed your current position, he slipped off his own shoes and plopped down across from you, crossing his legs.

He dropped the album between the two of you, pairing a cheery, “ta-da” with jazz hands.

You did a little dance- what you could manage from your position- as the cork finally popped off and you took a swift swig before passing it to Harry.

He gladly accepted, and as the bottle reached his lips, Harry suddenly acknowledged the situation he was currently in. nerves rushing in from all directions, and he took an extra couple sips on account.

You were already flipping through the first few pages, grinning sweetly, and pausing to take a better look at some of the pictures. Harry was looking too, but mostly at you. He liked how you focused, how fondly you smiled, and he was only seconds away from getting caught staring.

“Oh god, do you remember this day?” you leaned forward, fingers tracing a photo of Harry dressed as a cowboy, sporting a fake moustache, and aiming a water gun at the camera. He nodded fondly, reminding you that shortly after the picture was taken, you threw up all over a rosebush- fully dressed as a brothel-lady - bonnet, and all.

With that, you flipped the page with haste, scanning some of the others, stopping to think- sometimes to reminisce. And then you came across the one picture Harry would have traded the world for. The two of you were sat on a couch, your legs draped across the armrest, your head Harry’s lap. The sun was setting, creating a silhouette of the perfect tableau. It was the beginning of one of his favourite evenings to date. Whoever took the photo hadn’t stuck around, the most important part of this memory was that it was just you two- an anomaly.

Before he could stop himself, Harry pointed down at the photo, “This one is my favourite.”

You followed his hand, looking down intently at the little moment caught on film,

“We drank so much wine that night,” you giggled fondly, careful not to give any feelings you may have harboured away.

“You sang,” He said,

“For you,” you emphasised,

“For me.” He nodded.

A silence settled and Harry took another sip, remembering your twirls, drinking, spilling from the bottle, the way your hair fell, the way he felt. The night way playing out on super speed, too many moments jumbling together, and then he couldn’t stop the blush from rushing to his cheeks,

“Oh god. I danced. A lot.” He remembered the moves far too well.

How could you forget? He was clumsy on his feet, creating a brand-new style. And he was so off-beat, no rhythm, moving any which way as long as it caused you some sort of reaction- preferably an endearing laugh, which you were of course currently doing,

“Yeah, you danced a lot.” You smiled innocently, “For me.”

“For you.”

Harry caught your gaze, the air between you thick with tension and lust. He wanted crawl right on over, grab your face and smother you in kisses. And the way you were looking back at him, Harry was almost convinced you might actually want him to do that too.

Neither moved, hardly blinked, and you were so hot under the collar it was torturous. You felt completely trapped, losing all self-control and about to slink straight into his lap. In sheer panic, you turned back to the album, flipping through pages at a time.

There was a photo of Harry, Jack, and an old friend of theirs from school. They were dressed in football attire, getting ready for a match.

“Oh, I remember this guy. Andy, right?” you taunted, glancing up to gauge his reaction,

Harry couldn’t stop his jaw from clenching, eyes rolling.

“He was cute,” you tried, “Didn’t he have a thing for me?”

Harry scoffed. Of course Andy had fancied you- Harry almost lost his mind every time he made any comments expressing crudeness or adoration for you. He had bitten his tongue so many times it was habitual when he found himself doing it now.

He still hadn’t spoken, you were fascinated as his pupils dilated, angst creeping up across his features. You took another sip of the wine, eyeing him before pushing once more,

“Maybe I should have given him a chance…”

Harry barely let you finish, “He couldn’t’ve handled it.”

You laughed harshly, absolutely amused, and horrifyingly, extremely enticed. So, you uncrossed your legs, splaying them out in front of you, toes tapping his crossed ankles,

“You really think you -”

“- Yes.” He finished for you.

In your opinion, his certainty was the most attractive thing he had ever done. He suddenly wrapped his hands around your ankles and gently tugged you forward.

You let out a small gasp as your bum slid forward, Harry unravelling his legs, all the while dragging you further into his grasp. You were lured straight into his lap, naturally wrapping your legs around his waist, settling atop his hips.

You were face-to-face now, chest-to-chest, and his hands came to rest on your waist. His breath was warm, eyes oozing with intention as your hand lazily draped across his shoulder, fingers finding their way to his hair.

“I don’t believe you,” you muttered.

“I’ll make you,” he persuaded, hand sliding up to rest on your lower back.

You were on the brink of total surrender, leaning closer until your noses were brushing, his other hand leaving your waist to cup your jaw, securing around your throat.

“Prove it,” you gave in.

Harry felt his stomach flip, holding back the urge to shove his tongue down your throat. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then another to the corner of your mouth. He took his time, enjoying the way his lips sparked against your soft skin.

And then he kissed you- just barely. So lightly you barely felt it.

He pulled back for a moment, bringing his other hand up to hold your face in place. Planting a soft kiss, and another, and another, and then he finally kissed you- properly.

You were eager to reciprocate, tugging him as close as possible, kissing him with such fervour it could have convinced Harry that this was something you had spent twenty years anticipating.

Your lips detached, and Harry was quick to start scattering sloppy smooches up-and-down your neck. Nibbling and sucking now-and-then, dragging you further into his hold.

It wasn’t until you purposely pressed yourself down against his lap - desperate to ease some of this friction – when you suddenly came to your senses. Before he could kiss you once more, you went still, eyes opening to look at him in shock.

Harry stopped, eyeing you cautiously as you unravelled yourself, leaning back bashfully.

“We should get back to the party,” you suggested, scared to speak above a whisper.

Harry played it cool, nodding along as you climbed out of his lap, following suit until you were now both standing face-to-face.

Neither made any attempts to move, you watched him, shamelessly. Trying to figure out your next move, how to act, how to respond.

Suddenly Harry’s eyes lit up, surprisingly sending a wave of relief rushing through you.

“I got you something, for your birthday obviously.” He didn’t wait for your reaction, walking over to his bed before crouching down to reach for something hidden beneath.

You were eyeing him curiously as he started to reveal this surprise. The moment you caught a glance of what it was- that familiar blend of whites and purples, the abstract scatter of shapes and lines, the same feeling you felt the first time you saw the painting.

Your heart caused your ears to ring, a swell of emotions- aghast, amazed, admiration- and you were quick to realise that those feelings were for Harry.

He had barely finished revealing the artwork, not even fully standing straight as you came bounding over, causing him to drop what he was doing, only moments before you were grabbing his cheek, tugging him to meet your lips as you pressed against him with a blend of aggression and adamance.

He had no time to react, hands instinctively wrapping you up, pulling you into him, grabbing at whatever you would let him.

In a haze of needy kisses, he gently pushed you back until your bumped right into his dressing table.

You were tugging at his hair, making sure he stayed close. With your help, he used one arm to wrap around the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly until you were sat atop the table.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist in an instant, linking your ankles, tugging him closer. Harry was holding back a long overdue moan, hands on your jaw. You pulled back for a breath, taking in him- lusty, dishevelled, eager.

He reached up and gently removed your birthday crown, tossing it over his shoulder, and then his hands dropped to your shoulders, leaning down to press kisses to your collarbone, the nape of your neck, one final one – dragged out – beneath your ear.

Harry softly worked at the bows, pulling them loose, watching them fall, your chest on proper display now. Your hands were roaming his torso, back, his hair and finally, his jaw- leaning back in, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth. His mouth parting slightly, and you stole the change to slip your tongue in- giving Harry a pleasant surprise.

You worked to unbutton his shirt, hastily shrugging it off of his shoulders, forcing him to help you remove it completely. Your hands were roaming his torse, lips following suit. Harry couldn’t help the soft sighs he let slip, trying to keep his hands on any part of your skin.

The impatience was growing – neither of you wanted to address it. But after the third time you pressed yourself against his crotch, Harry decided he needed to take matters into his own hands.

He stepped back, softly chuckling at the bratty whine you sent his way. Harry’s hands pressed firmly into your hips; his thumb drawing circles up your thighs. He let a few fingers slip beneath the fabric of your dress, pushing it up to reveal your deep red, lacy undies.

Harry tutted, trailing his fingers closer and closer,

“I am very, very fond of these.”

He was inches away from getting exactly where he wanted, patiently dragging out each action. He knew you were certain- your incapability of letting him out of your grasp was proof.

Your hands were still all over him, desperately grasping at any free skin,

“Shut it.”

“Yeah?” he snickered,

“Yeah,” you huffed,

“What if-”

“Harry. I said shut it and put your mouth to good use.”

He blinked, blinked once more, and nodded profusely,

“Yes ma’am.”

---

Get ready for part twoooo! - Emmy xox.

[harry-writings]

My Birthday Girl

Another Drive Me Wild blurb for all my emotionless!h lovers out there! I hope you enjoy!! <3 I truly did not know how to end this but oh well, she’s cute anyways :’)

Masterlist

How to support me <3333

-

Chocolate covered strawberries.

They’re Y/n’s favorite — the snack she always asks him to make for her on special occasions, and even on her lowest days does he find her craving the sweet treat, an unbelievably easy way to her heart.

So here he is, dipping fresh strawberries in melted chocolate on the morning of her birthday. Their flat is silent as Y/n sleeps in their bedroom, Harry borderline exhausted as he is now on his third hour of being awake, his second cup of coffee already brewing beside him.

But his excitement is stronger than his lack of sleep as he runs through the day in his head, a small smile toying on his lips for everything he has planned for her. After their morning spent in bed, he arranged a picnic for them to go on at their local park — the basket already prepared and filled with cheese and crackers, wine and grapes — tickets for an immersive art exhibit she’d been begging for him to take her to, and a reservation to Y/n’s favorite Italian restaurant later tonight.

He wanted to make her birthday something she’d never forget, simply because this is the first birthday they’ll be spending together and he doesn’t want to screw it up. But also because last night, Y/n had told him that she had spent her last four birthdays alone, and something about that small confession was enough for him to nearly tear his own heart out.

It’s been eating him up all morning — thinking about how sad she must have felt on the days she was supposed to be her happiest. Surely, he’s been through that feeling practically his entire life… but something about Y/n spending her birthdays alone physically pains him to think about.

His stomach twists and churns whenever his thoughts wander off to Y/n sitting at her favorite restaurant, celebrating at a table for one with a glass of wine and a cup of ice cream, with nobody for her to talk to. And for him to fathom the idea of her going home to an empty house and an even emptier bed, ending her night without receiving a single happy birthday text, as if it were no different than any other day, makes his chest cave into a pit of guilt for not being the one there with her.

He knows it’s not his fault, but there’s nobody else to blame and he’d much rather take the fall than for her to ever blame herself (which she already does — another confession that had also slipped out to him last night). He frowns a bit at the remembrance.

And the emotional turmoil his body undergoes thinking about her past makes him ache being so far away from her now. So he finishes the last couple of strawberries in a haste, swaps the batch he made earlier with the new batch out from the refrigerator, and plates the chocolate covered strawberries on a floral serving tray.

With one last look around the kitchen, he makes his way into their bedroom.

He smiles softly as he enters, Y/n snuggled with the covers under her chin, soft snores falling with each breath she takes, as beautiful as ever in her dream state.

He places the tray of chocolate covered strawberries quietly against the nightstand, careful not to wake her just yet, before sitting down on the bed beside her legs. He reaches his hand out to pet through her hair, watching as her nose scrunches and eyes blink open beneath his touch.

He leans down to kiss her, his lips resting gently on her forehead as he continues to run his fingers through her hair, growing a hint of a smile when she huffs and puffs to her morning wake.

He removes his lips from her skin, sitting himself back up to admire the view. It never fails to amaze him just how stunning she truly is. No matter the time of day or the mood she’s in, no matter how done up or how done down, she always manages to take his breath away and make him fall more in love.

She pouts tiredly at him, her eyes blinking as they adjust to the light. And he pouts back at her, his fingers rubbing at the edge of her jawline back and forth softly. “I’m so sorry, pretty, but I missed you.”

She softens a little at his words, her cheeks turning pink beneath his touch. “I missed you, too.”

He smiles a bit as he continues petting her, the silence between them affectionate and comfortable. And she pushes herself deeper into his touch, in absolute bliss.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

She hums, in awe at just how perfect he is. His chest is on display for her to see, his tattoos prominent against his skin and begging for attention. And his face… so soft, so sweet, so precious… she wants it all to herself, all day long.

“Why do you look so good right now?” She frowns, her oozing with lust as they soak him in. It feels as if she’s seeing him for the first time all over again.

“Shaved for you.” He leans down to kiss at her lips once, twice, three times before he sits up again, his expression blank but his eyes full of love. “For later.”

She whines, her hands gripping his arm and pulling him back down to her, the sight of him no longer enough as her watering mouth finds its home against his cheek. “How about for now?”

She’s being greedy and she knows it, but who could ever blame her? It’s her birthday and her only wish is for him to fill all of her senses, to hold her close until she’s in a world that belongs to just the two of them, to touch every single part of him.

Her lips are persistent against him, her fingers in his hair as she kisses and kisses and kisses the soft and smooth skin. And Harry indulges himself in her affections, enjoying it all too well even though it should be him drowning her with love.

“But I made you breakfast.” He tries, his walls crumbling as his voice wavers between his words because of course he’d rather be doing this, but today is about spoiling her rotten, not the other way around.

“How could I possibly want breakfast when you’re right here, shirtless and all clean shaven?” Her teeth graze at his jaw, as if taking a bite of him, growling at his taste. “So scrumptious right in front of me.”

His breath falters and weakens at her touch, the breath of her words sending a chill down his spine he can’t seem to shake off. And curse her for being so irresistible and knowing exactly what he likes, he never fails to give into her in a heartbeat. “But I made your favorite.”

“So that’s a no to morning birthday sex?” She raises her eyebrow at him, pulling away from him and stilling her movements.

“Absolutely not.” He argues plainly, gently pushing her back onto the mattress, his blank and nearly cold expression making her chest jump from within her. She loves how much he loves her beneath it all.

He strokes her cheek with the back of his finger, his lips linear and eyes darkening with endearment, admiring every inch of her face. And she can recognize that look anywhere — he’s going to make a mess out of her.

He reaches over to the night stand, grabbing one of the chocolate covered strawberries and dangling it over her mouth. “Just one bite for me.”

She opens her mouth for a taste, pushing herself up on her elbows to reach, craning her neck. But right before she could sneak a bite, Harry pulls it away from her, making her head tilt in confusion as he looks at her with hesitation.

Rather, he opens his own mouth, his teeth lodging into the stem end of the berry, ready for her to take. And he leans back down, Y/n’s eyes glistening at the idea as she meets him halfway. Her teeth sink into the hardened chocolate and through the juicy fruit, her lips meshing with his along the way. And they both let out a moan at the feel and taste of it, never having done anything quite like this before.

Harry leans back with the fruit stuck between his teeth, eyes fixating on her for just a moment longer before he turns his head and spits the stem onto the ground. And if Y/n wasn’t so infatuated by the filthy sight of it, she’d grimace at the thought of the juice leaving a stain on their perfectly clean hardwood floor… but how could she ever care when he’s about to make his mark on her?

She licks her lips up at him, slowly and seductively, humming at the sweetness.

His eyes darken at the angel splayed in front of him, ready to be touched and ruined by him. And something about the way she wanted this, craved this, starved for this — over the chocolate covered strawberries he had made with love, delivered to her side, ready to be devoured — even when she has it every day, makes him want this so much more… as if it were even possible.

“You just lay back and look pretty.” He instructs, his hand running down the length of her shirt (that’s technically his, but she wears it nearly every single night for bed and it always drives him wild whenever she does) and onto the plush of her thigh.

She squirms into his touch.

“And I will give you everything you ask for, m’birthday girl.”

-

Harry’s got his hands over Y/n’s eyes, carefully guiding her toward the kitchen — where he had dedicated his entire morning to make everything look perfect for her — as she giggles and squeals and tries to guess what he could have possibly surprised her with.

He laughs with every other step they take, biting teasingly at her shoulders whenever she makes more guesses, already feeling somewhat accomplished that he’s found a way to make her this happy.

He stops them at the entrance of the kitchen, where he kisses the back of her head. “Okay. Are you ready, baby?”

She nods excitedly, clapping her hands in anticipation. He counts to three, taking a deep breath in before releasing his hands from her eyes and settling them around her waist.

Her jaw drops at the sight of it.

Dozens of baby pink balloons floating around the kitchen, the table full of gifts in pastel colored bags, white streamers hanging from the walls, bouquets of flowers scattered throughout the mix. And never has Y/n seen something so thoughtful or so full of love, she can hardly believe that it’s all for her.

She never knew things like this existed.

“You did all this? For me?”

Harry kisses her head from behind, tightening his arms around her front and squeezing her to him, resting his chin against her shoulder.

His heart sinks whenever she doubts his intentions, always unsettled at the thought of her insecurities fooling her to believe she doesn’t deserve to be loved like this. Because she does and she always will, every day for the rest of her life, and he intends to remind her of that every day for the rest of his.

“Wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”

He gives her one last squeeze before releasing her, allowing her to roam free and look at everything he had to offer. And she seems tentative and wary at first, but with one soft and gentle push from Harry, she makes her way over to what he had laid out for her.

Her eyes dance between the gifts and the decorations, slightly overwhelmed at how much there is… she doesn’t know what to look at first. Everything is just so perfect — beyond anything she could ever imagine and better than anything she’s ever dreamed of.

But something in particular catches her eye — there, set on the middle of the table, are two glasses of mimosas with a note laid before them, reading ‘Cheers to you, my love, for being alive with me.’

Her stomach dances, heart falling at the words he wrote out for her. They’re so simple, yet quite possibly the most beautiful thing she has ever been told. She’ll be sure to smother him with kisses for it later.

She diverts her attention to the gifts, her fingers dance along the pastel bags, ruffling the tissue paper, gleaming at how much thought and time he must have put into everything. Because they are always together — at home, at work, on their days off — and yet he still found a way to make this day as special as he possibly could for her, leaving countless of surprises along the way.

“You spoiled me.”

He leans himself against the counter, his eyes never leaving her. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He pauses, then, trying to find the right words. “I know I’m not always the most expressive when it comes to our relationship, so I like to make up for it whenever I can.”

Her lips fall into a pout, watching as her fingers fiddle around the corner of a tissue paper, her heart dropping at the insecurity laced within his words.

It breaks her in two whenever Harry doubts himself, always saddened at the thought of him never feeling good enough in their relationship despite everything he’s done for her. Because he goes above and beyond every single day, in ways she never even knew was possible, and it aches to feel all the weight he burdens himself with.

“H... that’s never something you have to worry about. You’re very expressive towards me.” Her hand falls to her thigh in defeat, her frown sinking deeper. “It kind of breaks my heart that you don’t see that.”

“No.” Harry says instantly, shaking his head as he makes his way towards her, his hands resting at her shoulders to bring her attention back towards him. “No broken hearts today. Just forget I said anything, okay? And instead...” He grabs a particularly small bag up from the sea of gifts, holding it out to her with hopeful and anxious eyes. “Open this.”

She looks up at him, her cheeks flushed and lips twitching into a smile. She grabs it from him slowly, a small and quiet thank you falling from her lips, suddenly shy under his watch.

Her hands shake as they remove the tissue paper from the bag, her eyes curious when they spot a black velvet box laid delicately inside. She reaches for it, placing the gift bag back on the table before looking back up to Harry, trying to read his expression.

She opens the velvet box and feels a certain tug on her heart she’s never once felt before, stuttering at the meaning of it.

“You got us matching rings?”

He nods, rolling his lips between his teeth. It’s his nervous habit — the subtlest form of one but the only external sign he’s in a situation he’s unsure about. But she can’t imagine how he could ever be unsure of something like this… it’s one of the most romantic things he’s ever done for her.

“Look on the inside of them.”

She takes her ring out of the box, gleaming at the silver band for a moment longer before flipping it to its inside, and she gasps again. Engraved with the most perfect cursive writing, read the words forever and always.

“I know how much you love my rings. You’ve made this really cute habit of fiddling with them before bed to help you fall asleep, and — and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but… I stopped wearing any on my left ring finger once you and I had gotten together.”

She did notice, of course, but she didn’t want to make any assumptions. Especially since she first noticed the morning after their first night together. She was in a trance as she watched his hands work each ring onto his fingers, one by one, precise and confident and effortless. He wasn’t even looking and that’s what made it so much more mesmerizing to her.

But it wasn’t until he reached his left ring finger that he hesitated, his fingertips skimming the skin there, as if in contemplation. And her eyebrows furrowed, even deeper when he proceeded to the next finger as if nothing peculiar had happened at all, the question on the tip of her tongue but swallowed down in seconds.

He hasn’t worn one there ever since.

“I know it’s stupid but, my rings mean a lot to me, you know? They all have their place and their reasons and it just — it felt wrong once you stayed the night because I’ve always had intentions on spending my life with you, I just didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Her eyes water as he speaks, feeling more loved and cherished than she ever has before. And there’s this sense of peace that washes over her knowing that he’s always seen himself with her, even before they had gotten together, because that’s all she had ever seen since the moment she laid eyes on him.

“I just don’t like that it’s so empty when my heart isn’t, so I figured this would be perfect for us.”

Y/n sniffles, holding back a sob as she nods her head. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

He smiles, his fingers gripping hers before taking the ring from her hand, holding it out to her. And he slips it onto her left ring finger, admiring the way it looks on her and drooling at the idea of them sharing something so sacred and promising together.

He kisses it.

And Y/n doesn’t hesitate to then take his ring out of the box, her stomach fluttering at the intimacy of it all as she slips the silver band on the only empty finger he has. It’s so real — the feeling of it all, seeing a token of his devotion to her out for the whole world to see.

“I love it so much, H.” She whispers, intertwining their hands together. “This is just… so much. All of this and you… it’s all so much. I love you so much.”

He pulls her to him, her lips so close to his he has no choice but to lay a kiss to them. But what was supposed to be slow and delicate ended as a mini makeout session — much like the ones they had in the break room at work, hidden behind closed doors, before they were much of anything besides two people absolutely desperate for each other.

“This is all I wanted.” Y/n whispers between their kisses, referring to the man she’s holding and loving and praising between her arms. “I got everything I wanted.”

Forever and always.

[prof-peach]

Hey professor 🍑

I think my furret likes a cacnea we met at the local adoption event? But I don’t know anything about grass types! I know my furret, she’s very loving and has POWERFUL mom instincts, and I like the lil spiky buddy, but— I don’t want to bring someone into my family without having a plan to care for them. We’ve started to talk though, me, furret, and cacnea, and I think we could get along. I can deff support another Pokémon; I just don’t know how to support cacnea specifically, cuz I know different plants have different needs. Any ideas on where to start? Yeesh, this is worse than facing down a luxray with intimidate…

Intimidating luxrays are only as scary as you allow them to be. In the wild, you can spook them if they charge you, by running head first at them. More often than not they don’t expect the confrontation and skitter away to reassess the situation and try again, or better yet flee. So we’re gonna confront the fear here, and hopefully clear your mind of any worry!

Now. Cacnea are a wonderful grass Pokemon to start on. They are simple and easy to care for, with a whole heap of personality in those tiny round bodies. So think about where they live first of all, notoriously in deserts, places that get intense heat during the day, and often freezing lows at night, soil is sandy, very free draining, and they can obviously tolerate dehydration, high winds, and harsh sunlight with ease.

So with this in mind, they’ll need a sunny bright window or garden to sit in for photosynthesis, not too much water, never let its soil sit in the damp, we turn the sprinklers on in the cacti house here about once or twice a month in the summer, fully soaking the sandy ground, they will actively find water troughs and ponds when they get thirsty too, so watering them is only ever an issue if you do it too much. Their flowers drop, but also form fruit if pollinated. Simply remove the fruit when it is still small and undeveloped, to stop unwanted seeds developing into more Pokemon than you can handle. A new flower will take its place quickly after should they get enough sunshine.

Cacnea do eat but it’s not something you need to worry about too much. One cacnea will eat around 5-10 berries a week, for an average sized individual. Their tastes vary, so try lots of stuff. They don’t really gravitate towards juicy wet foods, but it’s worth trying them anyway, just in case.

Winter time can be tough, it’s very damp. BUT they’re more cold tolerant than most would think. Deserts can drop in temperature overnight, and cacnea have adapted, their skin is quite tough, so they can hold up for a night just fine. Prolonged exposure can however be fatal, so don’t leave em out in winter, and dry them off when it’s raining and you get indoors.

Behaviourally they’re social, if you can, mix them with other Pokemon in controlled safe areas, this stops nervousness or aggression from setting in about interacting with others, and they tend to be far happier for it. This is not the case with every species but cacnea really are good with a multitude of other species, so maybe ask friends or family to bring along their partners to a safe open field to start the ball rolling there, and have your pokeball handy should you need to quickly return them. On occasion cacnea get “bossy”, it’s more towards flying types, they are sometimes a little hot blooded out of instinct. As you have found this dude at an adoption place, you might not know his background, so go slow and always talk to them about what’s going on, giving them options whoever possible, to encourage them being able to make independent decisions that are safe for themselves and those around them. It’s ok to be scared of something, but lashing out is avoidable, and it’s your job to make sure they know their options and pick a good one for them should something spook them or whatever.

A good place to look for them is garden clubs, allotments, or even online at public gardens. Plenty of people love these pokemon, breed them, keep them and generally open their doors to the public, to spread help, and share their enthusiasm. The fan base is big, and you’ll be able to learn more, and also get your buddy some time with his own, a great way for them to learn about their own kind more, or just hang with like minded Pokemon.

Remember to put yourself in their shoes, talk, and be patient with each other. I think they’re a great grass type to get, very forgiving, plenty of keepers with hands on knowledge to share, and if you get in trouble with them, there’s always professionals who can help.

A furret is a good match really, their fur is so dense those cacnea spikes really won’t phase em.

[nanamis-bigtie]

So, I watched the RED Movie yesterday. I have very mixed feelings. I'll explain everything under cut since I want to talk about scenes & plot & involved characters.

So far, a short non-spoiler review:

-> if you're not 100% sure you DON'T want to see the movie, don't hesitate and get yourself a ticket, this is one of those made to be enjoyed in cinema, the experience won't be the same at home

-> if you want to see this only to see your blorbo in action...you most likely will be disappointed, unless your blorbo is Koby, Barto or Usopp

-> if Uta's design & everything told about her in promo materials didn't convince you to like her...you most likely will be disappointed too

-> ...actually, you will have much more fun, if you stop treating it as a movie and start to think about it as high budget music video with Ado's pirate-sona. a big animated fanfic with a quirky OC

-> if you can wait, do yourself a favor and watch it AFTER you read this week's chapter, you will thank me 🤭

And now to the juicy meat.

I went to cinema knowing well this is NOT a movie for me. I'm a manga-only fan, I know anime only in bits and RED is my first OP movie ever. The info revealed in campaign didn't make me enthusiastic, especially given how much they push Uta on the pedestal. Frankly, if not for sis who really wanted to see it, I'd not move my ass to cinema.

But I did. And much to my surprise, I did enjoy it lol Wouldn't call it a good movie (maybe it is for OP standards, no idea), but wouldn't call it a waste of time either. Just a fun thing to watch together with a bunch of nerds, so you can make weird noises when your faves show up.

Uta for me was the weakest point of the movie. Not because I find her a bad-written character (I actually like what they made with her but that's later), but because she has like, 0 chemistry with characters on screen. Her relationship with Shanks and Luffy are limited to very short flashbacks and a few scenes with Shanks at the very end. Luffy and Uta interact with each other but I just...didn't get a feeling they're old friends reuniting after years. I mean, compare it to how Luffy reacted to Ace in Alabasta. Everytime Luffy and Uta met, it felt like a staged scene, and given that a majority of movie is played in alter-reality, controlled by Uta's mind, it gives one whole additional layer of that weird, fake feeling.

Following with the weak points: there's a whole lot of characters who do NOTHING. If we cut all the fight scenes but the finale, a good part of the cast has nothing to do. They just...are. Because they're Strawhats/popular characters. But even with those fight scenes... Zoro, one of the most important characters in the serie, got more or less the same screen time as a fucking chibified fursona of a ship. Even Shanks and Luffy, 2 of 3 main pillars of the movie, don't do that much. Really.

Honestly, fight scenes but the last one disappointed me. I'm a simple One Piece simp: I want to see my blorbos flexing muscles in crazy fights. I know this is not the essence of plot, but it's the flavor. One Piece wouldn't be One Piece if it wasn't boiled in broth made of bloody, sweaty tits, goddammit. In RED majority of fight scenes are edited like AMVs. With insane graphic quality, but with the same chaos and level of cuts and edits. Plus Uta being Uta through majority of screen time. Which is...UGH. The way she fights is really interesting! Whenever she does it, the jaw just drops! I wanna see her fighting with that power! Not look at heavily edited idol performance!

Luckily, at some point movie finally chills down and lets the plot breathe. And once it stops being an AMV on speed, it becomes quite interesting. Especially with the way it flashes out those few characters who got something to do. BIG kudos for choosing less obvious ones for pushing the plot motor: Bartolomeo, Koby, Blueno, Usopp (feat. his daddy issues). Koby was the absolute MVP. Holy fuck. I hope this is just a foretaste of what we're going to see in manga.

Fan theories connoisseurs will be over the moon with the number of symbols and wink winks. Not gonna lie, I focused on lyrics on purpose, to avoid sensory overload from those shaking AMVs and was surpirsed how much info is hidden in them. Like one, big teaser for the upcoming events.

I wonder how many connections will be revealed later. The robots from library? Hell, guess what just happened in chapter 1065 👀 They weren't lying that events aren't canon - but lore definitely is.

The animation & music combo is INSANE. Especially when they let Ado sing instead of pushing her to perform as a candy idol girl (the opening song made my skin crawl jesus christ that was horrible). Gods, the more crazy Uta gets, the better songs get and when the music goes low ohhhhh yes, that's the good shit.

NO FANSERVICE. IN ONE PIECE MOVIE? MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THOUGHT! Except for one very toned panties joke and one not-moving panel from the credits there's literally no fanservice. Null. Zero. Nada. And they let female characters fight to their fullest! Nami, Robin and Brulee do in comparison as much as other background characters.

The final is. IS. I swear, it's one of the best directed fights I've seen in One Piece EVER and hello, forget about the non-anime thig, I watched the famous Katakuri vs Snakeman and the Rooftop. The combo of powerful music, smooth animation, characters cooperating in perfectly-balanced yet unexpected teams, the multi layered attack lead by Usopp and Yasopp, Snakeman-Nika fusion & Shanks finish, fuck, I swear, I was shaking.

I hope this is how final fight in OP will look like. A whole team of our faves from various fractions against Im maybe? 👀

Loved how balanced the humor was. Characteristic for One Piece yet, tamed. Nothing too perverted, nothing too gross, everything chaotic as fuck. Love you, Bepo.

But my favorite part is probably the way they handled the conflict and the case of who's a villain. Don't wanna say too much cause imho this is something everyone should interpret according to their own judgement, but liked how they placed the core in the moral dilemma between bringing relief and utopia for the cost of freedom and remaining free but having to face the reality (oh, someone was inspired by The Matrix). Should I run into lie to comfort myself? Is it a wise idea to try and shield someone from consequences of their actions, even if they were not fully conscious? Does one have a right to decide what's good for others?

If not for the BULLSHIT finish, I'd say the second part saved the movie in my eyes. Sadly, it added to a bad aftertaste. Well, at least I have the OST. And soon-to-come shirtless snake gifs.

Overall, not a tragedy, thing more enjoyable than irritating even if you are easily distracted by things you don't like (like me lol), worth spending money and time even if for just watching an AMV on big screen.

And the obligatory traditional number scale: 4/10 as a stand alone movie, 6/10 as a meat for OP fan, 10/10 of Law's hairy leggies my beloved.

[doubleleoenergy]

i. Summer Bummer, Lolita Series

She just might become my lover for real. I might fuck with her all summer for real. They better not holla if I cuff her for real.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of erection, lewd thoughts, drinking

Words: 2168

Summary: Andy meets Jacob friends for the first time, including y/n.

“Dad, we’re here!” Jacob cried out, opening the front door to his familiar family home. 

Jacob Barber had just finished his Junior year at Columbia University and had just finished packing up his things in his apartment before driving back home. His parents had just finalized their divorce over the Christmas Break, and frankly, Jacob was relieved. His father, Andy Barber, seemed to be doing great, much happier without Laurie in his life. Maybe that was why he had agreed to let Jacob and his roommates from Columbia stay in their home for the entire summer leading up to their final year of undergrad.

“I’ll be right down, just changing a lightbulb in the bathroom.” Andy called out from upstairs, finishing his work quickly and disposing of the broken bulb in the bathroom trash can. He took his time down the stairs, smiling widely as he saw Jacob and his friends standing in the kitchen. “Good to have you home, son.” Andy announced, embracing Jacob in a warm embrace. He wasn’t lying at all, yes, he was fine after the divorce, but he did miss having his son at home playing video games or listening to his music too loud. Once Andy let go, he eyed the two other boys behind him, patting Jacob on his shoulder. 

“You boys must be Jacob’s roommates, right?” He questioned. 

“Yes, sorry dad, this is Rashad and Collin.” Jacob motioned to each of them, watching as his father shook each of their hands. “It’s nice to meet you all, and please, call me Andy. Only my clients call me Mr. Barber.” Andy took a step back, reaching into the fridge to grab a few Coors Light bottles, handing one to each of the boys before turning his attention back to Jacob.

“I thought you said there was another roommate coming, right? The one who you begged me to let intern at my office during the summer?” Andy asked, raising an eyebrow at his son.

Jacob took a swig off his beer bottle, nodding his head. “Yeah, y/n said she’d be here soon, she was just finishing up with a friend for brunch and then she was heading over.” Jacob, Rashad, Collin, and Y/N had been roommates this year in a quaint little apartment about five minutes from Columbia’s main campus. Andy had been to the apartment once to meet up with Jacob for dinner in the Fall during one of his many fights with Laurie, though Jacob’s roommates had all been out that day.

“Alright, well why don’t you boys make yourselves at home, take your pick of any of the guest rooms upstairs and let me know if you need anything. I was thinking of firing up the grill, it’s such a beautiful day out and the swimming pool contractors just finished with the new pool out back.” Andy opens the doors of the fridge again, pulling out the hamburger meat as the three men race up the stairs to look at the rooms they’d be occupying for the next few months. “Sure dad, thanks!” Jacob calls back, giving his father a short wave of his hand.

About an hour later the boys had all settled into the Barber’s backyard, speakers against the home blaring the hottest songs of the summer. Andy and the boys stood around the grill, exchanging stories of their latest semester and giving Andy a chance to get to know Rashad and Collin better. He was quite impressed with the type of people Jacob had chosen to associate himself with. Rashad was an engineering major like Jacob while Collin was studying chemistry.

After the boys finished laughing about Collin and Jacob’s double date gone terribly wrong, Jacob’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen with a smile. “Y/N’s pulling in, I’m going to go help her with her bags.” The other boys stayed next to Andy, watching as he flipped the last set of burgers on the grill.

“She’s gotta look heavenly in a bikini, right bro?” Rashad asks Collin, nudging him playfully in the side.

“You got a thing for y/n? Because I don’t think it’d be too appropriate to get with someone you are living the entire summer with, especially under my roof.” Andy objected, removing the burgers off the grill and onto the plate beside him.

Both Rashad and Collin burst out laughing, taking swigs from their beer bottles as they do. “Nah, Andy. Y/N’s a smoke show don’t get me wrong, but we can look but don’t touch. She’s not a relationship type of woman anyhow.” Rashad teased.

Just as the two boys finished their snickering, Jacob opens the screen door, the two immediately jogging up to give y/n a hug. 

“What, you boys miss me that much after being apart for only a day?” She teased, Collin finally releasing her from his death grip. Jacob pulls y/n out into the yard, stopping right in front of the grill where Andy was turning off the burners.

“Dad, this is y/n.” He gestures towards the woman beside him just as y/n sticks out a hand for Andy to shake.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barber, I’ve heard so much about you.” Andy finally turns his head in the direction of her voice, his eyes locking on hers as his heart skips a beat in his chest.

“It’s nice to meet you too, and please, call me Andy.” He reaches forward to shake her hand, taking in the whole sight of her. Her hair hung in loosely tousled waves down her back, stopping just above her breasts that were jutting out of her black lace bodysuit, which clung tightly to her hourglass figure and was tucked into her jean shorts that barely seemed to cover her ass. Her lips were plump and juicy, the color of a glass of fruit punch, a dotting of light freckles across her cheeks. Her eyes were striking, she wore no mascara, yet her lashes were thick and long. She was breathtakingly beautiful, a ‘smoke show’ as Rashad had said, indeed. 

Y/N watched how Andy’s eyes engulfed her body, tilting her head to one side as she pretended not to notice. “Well Andy, thank you again for letting us all stay with you this summer, and thank you for the internship. I would rather work a paid internship than work with these boys anywhere.” She teased, ruffling Jacob’s hair.

“It’s no trouble at all, our office could use a good intern for the summer.” He agreed, eyes lingering a little too long on her perky breasts again.

“Maybe we can carpool to work, I’m all about environmentalism.” Her words are flirtatiously drifting off her tongue, a seductive smile spreading across her lips. Was Andy imagining this?

“R-right, yeah sounds good.” He moves to grab the plate of burgers by the grill, gesturing to the house. “Boys, please bring out the salad, condiments, and tableware from the counter and come set the table. Oh, and get y/n a beer.”

Andy moves to the patio table and sets down the plate of burgers, watching y/n as she slowly sinks into the chair next to him. He catches a whiff of her perfume, a heavenly mix of oranges, vanilla, and sandalwood wafting through his nostrils. It’s the perfect scent for her, he thought, moving to sit at the far end of the table.

The boys come back with all the supplies for dinner, including y/n’s beer, which she is already nursing happily from. Andy’s eyes focus on how her lips wrap around the top of the glass bottle, clearing his throat as if to rid himself of his dirty thoughts.

“So, y/n, what made you want to intern in my office?” He questioned, assembling a burger onto his plate. Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, carefully putting a helping of salad onto her own plate before assembling the rest of her meal.

“I’m completing my undergraduate degree and then hopefully getting admitted to law school to become an attorney. I figured interning in a real office would be a great first step.” She stuck her fork into the salad, opening her mouth to take in the bite.

“So, what are you getting your undergrad in?” 

“My major is human rights with a minor in economics.” Her eyes met Jacob’s, a smile spreading on her face. “That’s how I actually found out Jake-y here was looking for another roommate. We had microeconomics together. Then I got introduced to these two losers-“ She teased, motioning to the other two guys at the table who feigned hurt expressions. “-and the rest is history.” The boys next to her were all chowing down as usual as if they hadn’t been fed in days.

As they take the time to finish eating, y/n lets the boys do most of the talking. She’s not a huge sharer when she first meets people, and frankly she’s glad to have the guys around to keep her entertained all summer. The dinner is spent catching way-too-long glances from Andy, his eyes lingering on hers for a bit too long here and there. There’s something about him that intrigues her, maybe it’s because he’s not a boy but a man, or maybe it’s just her usual game of cat and mouse, men usually fell to putty at her feet and she assumed he’d be the same.

“That was great dad, thank you.” Jacob says, finishing his third burger of the night. “Anyone up for a late-night swim?” He asked, standing up from the table and picking up a few of the items from it to take them inside. Rashad and Collin follow suit, with y/n trailing behind.

“Sounds good.” Rashad replies, going over to set his plate in the sink before bounding up the stairs. Andy walks back in as the four head upstairs to change, turning on the sink and rinsing off the dishes before setting them in the drying rack on the counter.

Shortly after finishing washing his third plate, he hears the boys running down the stairs, pushing each other to see who can do a cannonball in the pool first. Andy can’t help but chuckle to himself at their energy, it truly was nice to have noise in the house again.

“Can I help you, Mr. Barber?” Andy turns his head to the soft voice behind him, his cock twitching in his jeans. She’s standing in front of him in the tiniest floral bikini he’s even seen on a woman, the bottoms barely covering her slit and leaving nothing to the imagination of her ass.

“It’s Andy.” He chokes out, licking his lips before turning his attention back to the sink. Y/N sashays over to his side, grabbing the clean towel off the counter and starting to dry the dishes as Andy sets them into the rack.

“Right, I’m sorry, Andy.” Her eyes trail over his figure as she speaks, he can feel her eyes on him, and he shifts his weight as he stands to make sure his cock couldn’t be seen through the fabric of his jeans. “Thank you again for letting us all stay here; I was hoping not to have to deal with another summer bummer.” Her thin fingers set each dry dish carefully atop the other, Andy’s eyes glancing over one last time before he turns off the water, drying his hands on a clean towel.

He clears his throat. “Of course, any friend of Jacob’s is a friend of mine.” Suddenly, as if his ears are burning, Jacob opens the screen door sopping wet.

“You coming y/n?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at her. 

“Yeah, I was just helping your dad clean up.”

Andy shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide the erection in his pants. “Hey kiddo, I’m going to bed, you guys have fun tonight.” He turns to walk down the hallway of the first floor to his bedroom, hearing y/n’s soft voice echoing out to him.

“Goodnight Andy.” She purred, Jacob finally picking her up over his shoulder and carrying her out to the pool area, her cries of protest lingering as he shut the screen door behind them.

Once locked away in his room Andy let out a sigh, undoing his jeans and letting his cock spring free from his underwear. He couldn’t believe the way he was getting hard for his son’s best friend, he hadn’t even had a chance to think of another woman since the divorce, but y/n just had this sickeningly sweet seduction about her, he knew it matched a certain name.

“Lolita.” He murmured, and though she wasn’t a 12-year old girl from the novel, because ew, he did seem to have some sinful obsession with her after having just met. Is this love or lust or some game on repeat? Andy didn’t know, but one thing was for sure, he was definitely about to jerk off to sexual thoughts of her in that bikini.

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff​ @rattlemyb0nes​ @rootcrop @goldenboysteve​  @turtoix​  @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​  @ccmarvelxx

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

wonderland, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: The curious thing about adventure is that you never know when it starts. For Jeon Jungkook, it starts on a train, staring at a woman with exposed shoulders, eventually leading to his lips on her wrists, his tongue dancing over the words, eat me, drink me.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; graphic descriptions of fantasized sexual acts (fem reader, slight ink kink, biting / marking, dry humping, m and f-receiving oral, cowgirl, a ridiculous amount of sexual tension); non-idol!BTS; Alice Adventures in Wonderland themed; strangers-to-lovers; (purple-haired) Jungkook's POV; based on this

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"How do you know I’m mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn’t have come here.”

excerpt from alice's adventures in wonderland by lewis carroll

He swallowed hard.

He shouldn’t be staring.

But he was.

She turned her head and looked right at him.

He quickly jerked his eyes away, zoning in on a screw bolted to the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. He should not be gawking at some random woman on the train. That was creepy, no matter how attractive she was. Her outfit was eye-catching, that was all. He had noticed her because of the off-the-shoulder, v-neckline of her black-and-white tartan top that exposed her shapely collarbones and shoulders. The floaty bishop sleeves ended with delicate hands that were elegantly poised on her bare knees, complete with a flared black skirt that revealed most of her juicy thighs because of her crossed legs. And those calves. Fuck. All that and it unexpectedly ended with chunky, ribbon-laced black boots.

Beside her was a black leather purse that was shaped like a coffin.

It rested against her hip.

The train screeched to a stop and people began to move, shoes appearing in his line of vision. She didn’t notice, right? No. Of course not. He just… zoned out. He wasn’t staring at her collarbones and shoulders, imagining planting kisses over that skin, running his teeth over them and leaving bright red marks.

Shit, what the hell was wrong with him?

Someone sat down on the seat next to him. He scooted closer to the window, away from whoever it was. There were plenty of seats on the train. Something hit the outside of his thigh, flat and oddly-shaped.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the coffin purse against his black jeans.

He jumped, snapping his head up.

“Sorry about that.”

His eyes shifted and she was looking right at him.

Expression unreadable.

His heart exploded, frightfully fluttering like a trapped bird in his ribcage.

“I-It’s okay.”

She lifted the purse and placed it in her lap. Then she tapped her right ear.

“It’s the earring, isn’t it? You’re curious what it says.”

His eyes darted to the earrings gleaming on said ear. She had three piercings, all silver, two on the lobe and one on the cartilage. The cartilage was a ram skull whose horns curved around the outside of the ear. The two lobe piercings were a hoop with an embedded black stone and a large script earring that dangled down, swinging every time she moved her head.

It read, eat me, drink me.

“It matches these.”

She lifted her hands and turned them around, pulling down the bishop sleeves and exposing her wrists to him. One had a tattoo of a small, square-shaped cake with text printed in the center – eat me. The other was a bulbous, potion-shaped bottle with a vintage-looking tag on it in the same font – drink me.

“Alice in Wonderland,” he breathed.

She smiled at him and he swore his heartbeat multiplied into seven birds feverishly flapping in his ribcage.

She turned her wrists inward, resting them on her purse. “I don’t see many people with exposed tattoos,” she commented, ticking her head to his right hand.

“A-ah… yeah,” he stuttered, covering the back of his hand with his left, leaving only the sheepish emoji tattoo on his upper middle knuckle exposed. “My mom hates them. Well, not hate, but she doesn’t like that I got so many at once.”

“Your mom ever told you that staring is impolite?”

His cheeks burned hot. “S-Sorry!” He bowed his head downward in guilt, gulping nervously. From this position, he could see her hands.

The left was tipped up, exposing the eat me tattoo on her inner wrist.

“Whoa, no need to apologize like that. I was only teasing you.”

He lifted his head slowly and her wrist turned back inward, now simply the back of her hand. His eyes flickered up and she was looking right at him. He almost jerked his head away in embarrassment, but tried to maintain eye contact.

Don’t be a creep.

Her gaze was unwavering, unreadable.

“You think I’m weird, huh?” she said with an amused smile.

He blinked rapidly. “No. No, I don’t. I thought… your purse was pretty unique,” he offered, pointing to it. It made him look down to make sure he was pointing at the right thing.

Her right wrist was exposed to him, the drink me tattoo stark and enticing.

He had a brief, obscene image of his lips attached to it, running his tongue up and down the inked skin, catching a bit of it in between his teeth and releasing it, moan on the tip of his tongue.

He yanked himself out of the moment of jamais vu, quickly switching to her face, his peripheral vision noticing her wrist turned back inward, pressing against the leather. Her lips curved into a coy smirk.

“I get questions about that too, on the regular. I saw it in a shop and liked it, so I purchased it.”

A lock of purple hair fell into his vision, somehow dislodged from his ear, but he couldn’t look away. Something about her tone made it seem like she was going to say more, so he sat there, frozen, captured by those alluring eyes that called to him.

“That and if I’m single or not.”

He felt his eyes widen a little, breath catching in his throat, the birds in his ribcage smashing against their confines, anxiety and anticipation roused from deep within him. Fear wasn’t the right word. It was more like seeing something from the corner of your eye that makes you do a double take, a mix of curiosity and interest, invested in what you might see.

“I am, if you’re curious.”

“O-oh. I… see…”

Her smirk grew into sly delight. She lifted her right hand and placed her palm on her chin, lips against her closed fingers, elbow resting on the coffin purse. Movement slow, deliberate. His lips parted, more violet hair falling around his face. His normal nervousness would have him looking away and pushing it back, but he somehow couldn’t. At least there was safety in this veiled curtain of purple surrounding the edges of his vision. Her hand turned, fingers cupping the left side of her face. Lips sliding down, emphasizing the plushness of them, and he could almost feel the warm inhale on his skin, but there was no way he could – he wasn’t that close and she wasn’t breathing that hard, but that was the feeling he got. Goosebumps prickled on the back of his neck.

He held his breath.

Her lips pressed to her tattoo, the faintest flicker of tongue against the ink.

There was no way anyone would notice unless they were looking very closely to her mouth.

His lower lip trembled, shudder shaking his shoulders.

The train screeched to a stop and the intercom called nonsensically, mumbles as stamping feet rushed out. No one seemed to notice the impossible electricity of this moment, shrinking it to just him, those lips, and that tattoo, the drink me text right there between her lips, an image that he had already seen, except it was his lips on that skin, and that image was imaginary because it only existed in his head.

She pulled her lips away and looked out the window, past him.

“I have to get off at the next stop.”

He was the stop after the next.

“May I…?”

Her eyes drifted back to him. “Hm?”

His eyes flickered down to her right hand, her inner wrist resting on black leather.

“Have a closer look at your tattoo?”

He wasn’t looking at her face. He was staring at the back of her unmoving hand.

“I mean, if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable–”

But before he could finish his sentence, the wrist was turning, lifting, placed right in front of his hungry eyes. Her forearm slid down the leather, grazing her skirt, suspended in the air for the briefest of moments, and then it brushed against his thigh, his left hand turning, and her graceful wrist rested on the pad of his palm, black ink standing out against that skin.

He was touching it.

Holding it.

Her presence neared. His eyes widened.

Goosebumps prickling, her warm inhale feathering right on his curve of neck to shoulder. His white sweatshirt was several sizes too big so the neckline was also oversized, revealing the tops of his own collarbones.

“It doesn’t bother me. Take a look.”

The train rushed into a tunnel, deafening all sound, and then it was only her voice and his gaze on that potion bottle, mesmerized. His hand rose, lifting her arm close to his face, his breathing shallowing. What was he doing? This was crazy. Absolutely crazy.

“If you want, you can bring it even closer. It's quite detailed.”

Insane.

He was lifting her hand, curiouser and curiouser, closer and closer, the script getting bigger and bigger, expanding, taking over his vision. His eyes following the elegant and prominent outline, drink me, the slightly dashed lines that emphasized the roundness of the bottle, the added etched fraying of the edges of the tag, drink me, the way the liquid was drawn to look like it was sloshing a little, as if it was really moving, drink me. He thought it was all in his head.

Her whisper, like sultry smoke, swaying the dangling earrings on his left ear.

“Drink me.”

He pressed his lips to the drink me script and moaned, so soft that she probably couldn’t hear it, but she could feel it on her wrist, vibrating her skin and his tongue tracing the lines, kissing softly, the taste somehow sweet, or was it just his imagination? Was it just a dream or was her body really a wonderland?

The edge of desire, on the cusp of something unknown.

He hadn’t even realized his eyes had closed and he opened them, seeing her looking directly at him, amusement sparkling in those mysterious orbs. He whimpered quietly, realizing how strange this was, how unbelievably weird, and this wasn’t him, this wasn’t something he ever thought he would do, or even something he ever imagined he would ever be in the position to do, kissing the wrist of a stranger on the train, but she pressed her wrist to his lips, her own parting in a faint Cheshire Cat smile.

“Don’t be afraid. I like it.”

He should let go and apologize for his odd behavior. His lips moved on her skin and there was nothing but her taste lingering on his lips, lost in images his head had conjured, tumbling, tumbling.

"Me too," he whispered, looking up into her eyes, silently saying, I don't know why.

Her smile was all he could see.

"You're very handsome...?" She tilted her head, inquiring.

The subway tunnel made the train roar around them.

"Jeon Jungkook."

The smile widened. She lifted her left wrist.

"Would you like to, Jungkook?"

His eyes flickered to it. The little square-shaped cake, eat me. Then back to her, heart racing, lowering her right and her left neared, his fingers slowly encircling her wrist, his eyes following the detail of the small crumbles, eat me, the added line shading to make the cake seem fluffed and appetizing, despite having no frosting or other decorations, eat me, the letters that looked almost stamped on her skin, eat me, and then he attached his lips to it, lightly nicking with his teeth, a nibble that flooded his senses with rushing pleasure.

He looked at her through his lashes, licking at her wrist, and she breathed out, unmistakable desire, her fingertips ghosting his cheek.

There was a sudden bloom of light as the train exited the tunnel, rays of overhead lights expanding through the windows, and he pulled back, gasping, holding her hand tightly, suddenly aware of the world around him, people getting up, sound crackling through the intercom, her hand in his and his thigh pressed against hers, the corner of her coffin bag digging into him because he was so close, so close to this stranger with beautiful tattoos and sweet-tasting skin.

The doors opened.

His eyes darted from her to their joined hands, then back to that faint grin playing on her lips, somehow the only thing he seemed to see.

"Coming?"

His other hand closed around his backpack.

They walked out together, hand in hand.

No one paid any attention to them.

Why would they? They had their own lives, hurrying home, pushing past each other, late for something, early for others. Time tick, tick, ticking, frowning at their wristwatches and wondering where the time had gone, an absurd thought, because time was made to provide linear reason to a nonexistent plane that flowed in every direction and preceded all other things, and so you were always late.

Always.

Jungkook stared at the back of her exposed shoulders, her hair pushed to the left, script earring dangling of her right ear, following on her light steps, all while holding her left hand and watching those muscles flex and relax, spellbound by the movement. She weaved through the crowd, slinking in spaces where he didn't think there was space, stopping for a moment to let someone pass, and Jungkook bumped into her back, his body flush to hers. Because of her tall shoes, the height difference was lessened and those long legs meant her ass and his crotch matched up is perfectly when otherwise they wouldn't.

His breath caught in his throat at the contact of softness to his hardness.

"Thank you for waiting."

The old woman smiled gratefully and the younger bowed her head, letting the elder take careful strides to the escalators.

She rolled her hips into Jungkook's jeans and his unbearable, stiff erection slid down his right pant leg, trapped against his inner thigh and layers of fabric, hot and pulsing.

He swallowed hard, releasing his backpack to grip her shoulder, turning his head so his long purple hair shadowed his eyes and cheek, smelling the tea-like scent of her hair. His inked hand stood out against the nakedness of her shoulder. She turned her head and the long earring bumped against his cheek, icy cold to flushed skin.

The images crept into his mind, them sitting on the train and her in his lap, his left hand pressing her head forward, her hair spilling down, neck and shoulders exposed to his waiting mouth, lips to delectable skin, kissing, sucking, biting, his hands sliding down the curves, pushing her legs apart, spreading them wide, his nails sinking into her inner thighs, her ass on his crotch, grinding down. Marks on those shoulders and neck, her mouth open and soft cries tickling his ears, her hands finding his, eat me on top of his left wrist, drink me above his right wrist, his hands sliding down to wet heat, fingertips pressing into drenched, slick fabric.

What was wrong with him?

"Let's walk a little, hm?"

Jungkook had been holding her left with his left. He let go of her shoulder and readjusted his backpack on his, standing behind her, not quite shy, but still shadowing the path she laid for him, his steps in her steps, his breath on her neck as he spoke in this moment.

"I'm not like this, normally."

He wasn't like this, ever.

"Isn't it alright to fall into abnormality to discover what is wild and new?"

His lips brushed the ram earring on her cartilage, gasping lightly as her hips swayed against the front of his pants, instant, hot, radiating friction.

Her fingers that were laced with his stroked the back of his hand.

This train stop connected to an underground mall, still alive with people and open shops. The scent of restaurants cooking away at this busy time made the air heavy and thick, wafting around the crowd, inciting customers to fill their bellies.

"Does it bother you?" she asked, walking through the crowd with feline grace, but there was a playfulness to her movement. She turned back to look at him, smile dancing on her lips.

"Uh... I... I don't know," he admitted truthfully, staring at those lips, feeling them ghosting his inner thigh, long tongue extending and licking his hard, throbbing length from tip to base before pushing it up, making him gasp, tongue swirling around the bottom, wrapping around his balls, soaking them with saliva, her eyes on him, watching, her wrist pressed to the red, aching, leaking head of his cock, pre-cum smearing all over the words, drink me.

"That's odd, Jungkook. Usually people know if they're bothered by something."

His eyes drifted up from her lips to her eyes, little lights that glimmered or maybe it was simply the sparkly lighting of the whimsical shops around them, crammed full of knickknacks and cute things. Something caught his eye in one of the windows – a writing desk, covered in pastel stationery, set up with pens and half-written notes, as if the busy student had just left the desk.

An obsidian raven plush was perched at the corner of the desk, looking down at the mess left behind by an imaginary child dreamt up by sales associates.

He looked back to her right in front of him. Her head was tilted, her body twisted because he was still holding her left hand. In her right, she held her coffin purse.

"It's not you I'm bothered by," he said slowly, realizing that it was the truth as he said it. Despite this woman being completely unfamiliar to him, a riddling enigma, she had done nothing but present him with things to consider.

"I don't understand what's going on in my head."

He let go of her hand.

Underneath these lights and surrounded by passerby that walked around them without a second thought, Jungkook stared into the eyes of the stranger of his memory.

His hand tentatively touched her waist, waiting for her to step back. She stepped forward, into his warmth. His fingers closed, resting snugly on tartan fabric and the waistband of her skirt, the slimmest sliver of skin in between the two articles of clothing.

She smiled.

"You're a little curious, aren't you?"

His middle finger pushed the hem upward, the pad of his finger directly on her skin.

Her lips parted.

Her left hand raised, touching his chest lightly, elegant fingers barely on the fabric, but he felt more, felt those fingers dig into his sweatshirt and clutch it tightly, pulling it up and over his head, his own left hand pressing her chest down, grabbing the bottom of that off-the-shoulder tartan top, his lips on her stomach, hungry kisses, his hands on her skirt, forcing her to hold it up, dragging her panties down as he looked up at her on his knees before leaning to hot, wet nectar, letting it fill his tongue and mouth, the viscous juices sticking to his lips, his cheeks, sweet and tart, so delicious, and he wanted it all, his hands gripping her ass, fingers of her left hand tangling in his hair, pushing him closer, not letting him go until she was satisfied, her wrist surrounded by dark purple stands curling around the words, eat me.

"You have beautiful eyes, Jungkook."

He blinked, the image gone, feeling his neck heat. "R-Really?"

Her hand lifted off his chest and reached up, nearing his face. Her fingers traced the air, hovering.

"The shape. The way it raises in the center and curves down like this," she whispered to his chin, sounding awed. "The inner corner, so sharp and defined. And the color, like freshly brewed black tea cradled in a delicate teacup."

It was the most bizarre love letter to his eyes that he had ever received and, yet, it suited her and tore his heart asunder, beating wildly in his chest, the anxious birds trapped in his ribcage suddenly released, the stinging air of his rushed exhale making him feel strangely detached, as if his head was no longer part of his body.

"Touch me," Jungkook whispered.

Her fingers millimeters from his face, the eat me cake tattoo and his own purple hair shrouding his peripheral vision.

Fingertips pressed to his right cheekbone, caressing it gently.

He started at her lips and he could feel it, her hand encircling his head, lips to lips, heated, all-encompassing kisses that consumed him, his hands on her waist, pulling her on top of him, his hardness pressed to her softness, sliding in between soaked folds, her gasp on his tongue, gripped by her tight walls wrapped around his stiff length as he pushed deeper, his eyes rolling back as he bottomed out, her tongue tracing his open mouth, her teeth nipping on his lower lip, whispering his name in burning ecstasy, rocking her hips to his, surreal pleasure enveloping him, her hands in his hair, moaning onto his chin as she held onto him, his hands clutching her hips, lost in the heat, the softness, the tightness, the sweetness, thrusting up into her pussy, his cock drenched with her, their dragged-out pants echoing as he took her wrists, one by one, pressing eat me, drink me to his lips, his tongue tracing a circle around the words, staring into her eyes, a wonderland he had yet to discover, all in a golden afternoon.

"Jungkook, may I kiss you?"

He blinked, realizing his gaze had landed on her collarbones and shoulders. He raised his head, a smile forming in his lips.

"Please."

She leaned in and he met her halfway, lips to lips, her wispy, contented sigh as they connected, warm and inviting. His hands around her waist, holding her to him, and her hand cupped his jaw, fingers sliding back to tangle in his purple hair, pressing her chest and thighs to his body, tongue flitting against tongue, teasing, and he wasn't like this normally, truly, all of this was absurd on many levels, but the kiss was like being shaken awake, comforting him from head to toe, the sounds of people swirling around them. Laughter, conversation, footsteps going forward.

The kiss broke. She pulled away with a smile, her lips flushed from the contact.

"What's your name?" he asked breathlessly.

She laughed, leaning against him, her fingers playing with his long violet hair.

Her name, formed by her lips and then by his, the beginning of an adventure.

What a curious, curious happening for Jeon Jungkook.

--

masterpost