#personally to me they are the worst of enemies and the sweetest of lovers

[whos-the-seme]

Someone should honestly write a "4 Times That Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu Accidentally Acted Like Partners (and 1 Time They Finally Realized It)" thing. That would be so fun.

Here's some of what I got so far, though they're a tad incomplete. Feel free to add on!!!

Sharing a Bed

Shen Qingqiu stumbled into the peak lord meeting right before the starting time, eyes barely even open. He was impeccably dressed, as always, but the slight puffiness of his eyes and the way he was fighting back a yawn signaled to the fact that he might have rolled out of bed barely 5 minutes before.

He ignored the stares that he received as he made his way over and slid into the seat next to Shang Qinghua, groaning. Shang Qinghua raised his eyebrow at him, mildly amused. For once, he was the slightly well-rested one and his friend was the sleep-deprived mess. Despite this, he started pouring a cup of tea for the other.

"Shen-shixiong, did you even sleep properly? You were the one who told me to go home and get more sleep." He finished pouring the tea and passed the cup to his friend, before pouring himself a cup.

Shen Qingqiu groaned even louder at his words but accepted the cup. "I know, I know. I just couldn't get to sleep, though." He took a small sip and sighed in delight. "It's just that your bed is so much more comfortable than mine, so--"

Shang Qinghua, midway through drinking his tea, choked.

Silence.

Absolute silence. Mu Qingfang slowly put down his brush while Qi Qingqi's eyes darted between Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu, a smile spreading on her face.

Shen Qingqiu's slowly turning cog wheels finally realizes what he just said and the people he just said it in front of. Shang Qinghua made a slight wheezing sound.

Yue Qingyuan set down his own teacup, smiling pleasantly. "Shang-shidi's bed?"

"His guest bed!" Shen Qingqiu nearly yells. "I meant to say his guest bed, obviously that's where I sleep when I stay over, where else would I sleep, of course! I sleep in the bed that is not his!"

Shang Qinghua begins to nod his head frantically. "Yes, yes, he sleeps in my guest bed." Noticing the still dangerous glint in Yue Qingyuan's eyes, he begins to wave his hands around as if trying to stave off his impending doom. "N-not that Shen Qingqiu sleeps over often, or anything, ahahaha! It's just a spare bed that I happen to have--"

"I see," Yue Qingyuan interrupts, still smiling. Never before has Shang Qinghua feared for his life like this. He continues cheerfully, "Thank you for the clarification. Why don't we get this meeting started."

2. Robe Mix-Up

Shit! Shen Qingqiu had completely forgotten that he had to teach a morning class and was running late. He might have had too much fun last night reading trashy novels and bitching about them with Shang Qinghua, only to forget his responsibilities to his students. Upon waking and realizing the sun was already up, he nearly shoved Shang Qinghua off the bed trying to get up.

In his hurry to look presentable and still arrive on time, Shen Qingqiu grabbed the nearest outer robe that he could find and slipped it on, while simultaneously trying to fix his hair. Shang Qinghua, the traitor, simply rolled over and muttered something in his sleep, despite the chaos. He rolled his eyes at his best friend, despite the other not being awake to see it.

Finally ready, Shen Qingqiu rushes out of his bamboo house and starts to speed-walk, doing his best to still look majestic and peak lord-like, and not like he was running late to his own class. In his hurry, he doesn't notice the wide-eyed looks he was garnering from the older disciples he passed.

It was only when he steps into the classroom, and the previously hushed whispers and laughter of the teens fall dead silent, that he notices that something is wrong. They all stare at him.

"Good morning, everyone," Shen Qingqiu says pleasantly. No response. What, did he have something on his face or something?? He discreetly wiped at his cheeks, wondering what they were looking at. "Did something happen?"

"Shizun... isn't that...?" Ming Fan hesitantly spoke up, eyeing the blue robes that his teacher was wearing.

Shen Qingqiu followed his disciple's line of sight and looked down.

Ah. An Ding Peak Lord Blue. He must have accidentally grabbed Shang Qinghua's robes when getting dressed this morning.

Wait.

Fuck.

Shen Qingqiu can feel his face freeze.

Another brave disciple spoke up. "A-are those Shang-shishu's--"

"No," Shen Qingqiu says. His eye began to switch.

"But--"

"I said no."

Unfortunately for him, word spread fast, and by midday meal, there were people whispering about the fact that Shen Qingqiu had left his residence wearing Shang Qinghua's robes.

Shang Qinghua tsk'd at him from over the tea table they were taking their lunch at on An Ding Peak. "You just had to take my robe, huh? If you wanted to wear my clothes so bad, you could have just asked." An Ding disciples gawked at them on their way to do errands. One walked into a wooden post.

Shen Qingqiu glared at him, ears still burning red from embarrassment. "Shut up, Qinghua."

[chleem]

Flashing Lights #6

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping, (read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy/translate my work

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter5 | index | chapter7

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Mid-May 2024

It’s just you and Drew now.  

Laura left after getting the two of you settled in this hotel room, explaining how your stylists would be here in less than an hour, Vogue coming over to film a getting-ready vlog. 

You anxiously stand by the window, looking down to the city. It was beautiful; but your anxiety didn’t let you appreciate it. You wanted a smoke. A drink too. 

The no-smoking sign on the table catches your eye, and you look at the ceiling. Smoking detectors were on it. Fuck. So, you reach for the alternative. 

You pick the room cell up, typing the number to the lobby. 

But Drew hangs it up, then grabs the cell from you. You look at him, pissed. “What? That was important,” you lie, but it was partially true, you needed alcohol to settle yourself. 

“Really?,” he says, putting the cell back. He glares down at you, as if you stole his money or something. “I’m not letting you.”

You let his words hang in the air, sharp and defiant.

Instead, you reach for the room cell again. 

Drew harshly grabs your wrist, which you immediately shake yourself out of. “Hey. What’s your fucking problem?” You ask impatiently. 

“That’s what I should be asking,” he replies. After a few seconds, he talks again. “Why would you go out with him?”

Oh. So he’s asking about what happened last week. 

It was nothing. You met Theo at the grand prix, who was surprisingly friendly. The two of you weren’t alone on the yacht; there was a small party before it. Theo and you just stayed longer, and the media made it seem like it was like that the whole night. 

Of course, you were too drunk to remember the details of what happened when it was just the two of you, but from the pictures; yeah, it was really bad. Your PR team gave you a hard scolding for that, and even fines for breaking one of the terms on the contract. 

You cross your arms, holding your head high. You didn’t do anything wrong; Drew’s intimidating stare won’t break you; nothing will. “I didn’t go out with him.”

“Does he know that?” His voice unable to hid the mockery behind them. 

“Of course.” Lie. Maybe a lie. 

“Y/n.”

“What? I can’t answer for him. But I know it wasn’t a date.”

“Right, two people of the opposite sex alone, on a yacht-“

“Not a date-“

“With wine, table candles, food-“

“Not a fucking date-“

“Touching each other? Smiling like he’s the funniest shit ever-“

“Fucking shut up, Drew,” you say, slightly louder than him. What he’s going on about, is just stupid. You already got scolded by the PR team, you didn’t need another person telling you you fucked up. 

Drew does shut up, but only for a few seconds. “Fine, then what really happened, y/n? Tell me, tell me and I’ll believe it.”

You look at him.

“Why should I fucking tell you?” 

The anger in your voice isn't just directed at him; it's a mix of frustration and confusion, the feeling that you shouldn't owe anyone an explanation, least of all him.

Drew’s eyebrows furrow even harder, his tongue poking against his cheek. You go on; ignoring how you’re filling up his anger meter. “All you need to fucking know is that it wasn’t a date. Fuck, why are you even talking to me about this? It’s not part of the contract, it’s not part of-“

“Contract?” He interrupts, looking at you in confusion and disbelief, as if your point of view was absolutely shit. “What does this have to do with-“

“That’s the whole reason you’re here-“

“What the fuck does the contract have to do-“

“Every fucking thing, Drew. The contract has everything to do with you being here. You don’t even care-“

“I do care,” he answers quickly, but you scoff. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be talking to you-“

“Really? You do care? What do you care about?”

“You,” he exclaims, his features softening. 

Bullshit. “Your fucking reputation, you mean?”

He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. You furrow your eyebrows, feeling pissed that he’s laughing. “What-“

“You’re unbelievable, y/n,” he starts, and suddenly, his aura feels cold, different from earlier when it was just pure anger.  “Why can’t you just explain the situation to me? Huh?”

“I don’t want to,” you tell him, lowering your voice. No. You won’t- can’t tell him.

“Okay, because I might not care?” He asks, ignoring what you want to add on. “If I really didn’t, why would I ask?”

Drew’s blue eyes make you want to yield everything to him. There’s a bit of comfort in his eyes, behind all the anger, “because…because you’re just another co-star I meet. You don’t really care.”

You continue to stare into his eyes, challenging him to disagree. 

“But I do.”

He says it so faintly, that it felt like the words were your hallucinations. But he did say it. Well, too bad you weren’t one to be swayed easily by words. “Stop lying, Drew. It just makes you look stupid.”

You brush past him and reach for the room cell. You needed like, five bottles of wine to move past this. To even survive the film festival later. 

But Drew stops you yet again. “Let go of me,” you threaten, shrugging his hands off your wrist. 

He doesn’t budge, even after saying it a second time. 

“Why can’t you can’t understand basic shit?” You snap, finally shaking him off and putting the cellphone back.

If you knew your next insult towards him would end badly for you, you wouldn’t have said it. “You’re so insufferable to be around, you know that?”

Drew stares at you, furrowed eyebrows back in place. 

What was he thinking of now? Thinking about a better insult? Thinking about all your flaws? It’s evident that he wants to say something mean about you. 

“What? What were you going to say?” You ask, getting impatient. “Say it. I’m sure whatever you’re thinking, they have it worse for me.”

His lips form a small frown, but his eyes stay mean, staring down at you. 

Okay. Now this was annoying. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel like talking?

“Do you need help forming it?” You tease, stepping closer to him. His eyes flicker fast to your lips, before back into your eyes. “Let me give you a few ideas. Druggie,  coke-head, slut, oh, wait, BBC said something about me once. It was-“

“I don’t think of you that way.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“You think of yourself that way.”

“What?” You scoff yet again. 

“You could be so much better, y/n. But instead, you let yourself rot,” Woah, what is he talking about? “Always getting drunk, smoking your lungs out, and putting on this- this sloppy attitude. You give up on yourself when other people haven’t. Why- why the fuck would you do that? Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?”

His words throw you off track. It’s the first time someone has said this type of stuff to you.

You swallow hard, your throat running dry. For the first time in a while, you feel exposed. His words hit you like a punch to the gut, unexpected and hard. You freeze, unsure of how to react, how to process what he’s saying. 

“Why do you make yourself so insufferable?” 

You want to hate him for making you feel this way, for making you feel like you're doing something wrong by existing this way. But you can’t. He’s right, isn’t he? 

Even with the constant buzz stinging your mind, you still refuse to show weakness. You refuse to show that his words have impact on you. “No; you make me insufferable in your eyes. You hate me, you hate how I bring more trouble to you-“

“I don’t hate you-“

“You hate how you’re stuck in this situation with me, but you know that only I can help you out-“

“Maybe, but I realized-“

“You stick around and then act like you care-“

“How many times do I have to tell you I do care about you-“

“You’re just like the rest, Drew!” You yell over him. He shuts up, looking at you with furrowed brows. “The fame, the money, the people I can bring you, that’s what you care! You’re just waiting for your payoff. ”

The contract again. That fucking contract mentioned again. 

You see his Adam’s apple move, his features softening. 

The doorbell rings, probably the stylists. You look away from Drew, hugging yourself tight, to keep yourself together. 

He brushes past you, going to open the door. 

The crew starts filing in, talking and setting up like nothing’s wrong. The noise feels like a wall around you, a barrier between what just happened and the performance you have to put on.

You glance around. Drew’s gone.

He must've left.

——

You tried your best to make Drew’s words leave your mind. 

You drank a bottle and smoked half a vape in a the last few hours while getting ready, and still, his words left a scar on you. You couldn’t believe yourself either, affected by Drew’s fake concern for you. 

“Give it to me, y/n, we’re arriving.”

Laura’s talking about the vape in your hand. You take on last breath, before handing it over to her. “This dress is uncomfortable,” you comment while puffing out the smoke. This dress was very tight. 

“You look beautiful,��� Laura says, and a part of you wonders if she actually means it. “Now, the cast is already moving along the carpet, you’re the last one.”

“Where’s Drew?” You couldn’t help but ask, knowing that you only attended the Cannes’ film festival to be seen with him. 

“Right… there,” she points out the window. You see Drew, in a black suit that matches your dress, signing and happily taking photos with fans. He looked… fine.

“Ready?” Laura asks, once the car stops. 

It was your first time at the Cannes film festival. You’ve always declined because of your ‘schedule’, but really, it was because of your anxiety. The flashing lights, the disrespectful questions, and audience that have high expectations. These reasons are mainly why you’ve always declined award shows, festivals, or any kind of event that required you to interact with people. “Yeah,” you force out. 

Laura opens the door, and steps out first. You take her hand when getting out, and while adjusting your dress, multiple cameras flash. The industry never changed, has it? 

Once you’re done adjusting your dress, you smile at the cameras, waving at them nicely. The lights are blinding, but you’ve trained yourself to not flinch to them. 

You walk down the red carpet, until you reach where Drew was. Of course he noticed you, all the photographers were shouting, hoping that you would stare at their cameras. 

He says bye to fans, before walking over to you. 

He doesn’t say anything to you, and you don’t either. 

Drew simply takes your hand and puts it on his inner forearm. You purposely grip tight, hoping to cause physical pain to him. 

The two of walk side by side until you reach the middle, stopping for photos to be taken. 

Drew wraps his arm around your waist, standing closely to you. You pretend something is wrong with his collar, smiling while adjusting it. You meet his eyes, and you just smile even more; acting. He smiles at you too; acting. 

Acting. Act. Act. Act. 

He whispers in your ear, making sure to get close enough so photographers don’t catch his lips. “You smell like grapes.” Oh. His breath hits your neck, and you feel your goosebumps rise. 

He moves away, looking at you lovingly; acting. 

You pat his chest and smile at him lovingly; acting. 

The photographers’ camera’s flash doesn’t stop, not even for a brief moment. All eager to capture every movement of this couple. Little did they know, while the both of you posed lovingly next to each other, hours ago a catastrophic fight happened. 

After a few more seconds which felt like minutes, one of the staff informs you to move up the stairs, where your other cast members were waiting for you. 

As you make your way toward the stairs, Drew’s hand hovers close to your lower waist, almost like a protective gesture. The warmth of his palm against your skin is an odd comfort, and for a moment, you forget everything else—the argument, the tension, the walls you’ve built up between you.

When you turn your back to the cameras, the weight of the moment hits you. The flashing lights and fake smiles are just a blur now. You face him, your words soft but certain. “You’re right.”

He blinks, taken aback, and lifts his hand, waiting for you to take it. “What?”

You meet his eyes, swallowing down the mess of emotions swirling inside. For a brief second, you think about pulling away, about keeping the distance. But instead, you take his hand, letting it slip into his.

You raise the hem of your dress slightly, your steps becoming more deliberate as you climb the stairs. “You’re right,” you repeat, your voice steady, almost as if saying it out loud makes it real. “About everything.”

"Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?"

“But, the industry shaped me to be this way. I don’t know any other way,” you confess, looking at the stairs while saying this. 

The two of you reach where your co-stars were, and you let go of his hand. 

The director of this movie, which is about the working class in the 1800s, makes space for you in the middle, urging you to stand next to him.

It was the director’s first work, so he was very eager to have his main leads stand next to him. Not only that, but because of your performance in this film, today, it was nominated for numerous categories.

You do, and smile at the camera with the director’s arm around you. 

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” the male lead, whispers to you, a smile on for the photos. “You never come.”

“This one’s special,” you reply, referring to Drew. 

He must’ve thought you were talking about the movie, “good thing I persuaded you to take the role.”

The flashing continues, but the staff informs that it was time to head inside. You turn around expecting Drew to wait at the top for you, but he wasn’t.

You hide your disappointment, seeing your co-star offer his hand. “I believe we’re sitting together?”

“Yes,” you smile, taking his hand. 

The two of you walked up the stairs with the rest of the crew, and into the main venue. 

——

The standing ovation lasted around ten minutes. Yet, felt like eternity. 

The sound of clapping fills the room, surrounding you, and for once, it’s not just noise. It’s recognition. It’s validation.

It felt…extraordinary. Like something out of a dream. You couldn’t believe how many you’ve missed out on. You want to soak it all in, to savor the moment, but a part of you can’t help but wish you weren’t alone in it.

Your co-stars would stare or blow kisses at their loved ones, whispering thank you to them. But you? No one. Not even your ‘boyfriend’, who was gone from the start of the night. 

Even when going up to receive awards, you wished you had someone special to dedicate your speeches or awards to. Or someone you could lock eyes with in the crowd. 

You had no one. 

Drew was still gone, and you soon realized, he was gone the entire night. 

——

You push through the door, finally getting it open after multiple tries. 

You immediately fall to the ground, your legs and arms giving up. You laugh, still a bit drunk even after sleeping in the car. 

“Where were you?”

Your blurry eyes squint at the source, and you see Drew. He’s sitting on the couch, half naked and hair still wet. “I should be asking you that,” you smile, the alcohol in your veins making it hard to control your features. “I missed you.”

It wasn’t you talking; obviously the alcohol talking. Drew knew that, because he walks over and stands in front of you. “Where’ve you been?”

You look down at his toes. They’re funny. “Hey, your toes are-“

“Where the fuck did you go?” He asks more firmly this time.

You look up at him. His jaw is tight, brows furrowed in something between concern and irritation. But all you can feel is the burn in your chest, the strange weight of his question. “Why do you care?”

It comes out cold, defensive, but his eyes soften, just a little, as if he’s already heard the answer, as if he knows the real reason why he does care.

He bends down to grab your arm. He helps you up, placing your arm over his shoulder. You’re too tired to protest; letting him place you on the couch. He walks away, but he comes back with a bottle of water, a trash can, and some pills.

“Hey, drink some water,” he says, his hand going behind your neck, as he helps you sit up. 

His hand is always so warm. Why?

His thumb rubs the back of your neck while you drink the water, surprisingly, you find it comforting. You finish half of it, before handing it back to him. “Wanna tell me where you went?” He asks you much more gentler this time. 

“The afterparty,” you reply, as Drew removes his hand from the back of your neck. The warmth disappears, and you actually feel sad. “Your turn.”

“I stayed in here,” he confesses. His voice turns quieter now, almost hesitant. “I didn’t want to see you.”

Just because of that, he leaves? What a selfish dick. “I didn't want to see you either, but did you see me leave? No.”

“And I’m sorry,” Drew apologies. You look into his eyes, and see the sincerity in them that can’t be faked. 

“I felt so stupid,” you continue, “The only person I knew was you.”

Drunk you could talk about whatever you wanted, and no one could stop you. “I know you hate me, but couldn’t you have stuck around? You only had to watch me, you didn’t need to do anything else.”

A tear falls down your cheek. It feels almost foreign, as if your body is betraying you, allowing a moment of vulnerability you didn’t expect, one that you didn't know you were capable of outside of a scene, outside the cameras.

You quickly wipe it away. “I would’ve never done that to you.” 

And you meant it. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, the only right thing to say right now. 

Silence lingers in the air, the two of you staring down at the floor. 

“It was my first time experiencing a standing ovation,” you start, giving him a soft smile. He sends you one back, a faint, quick smile. “No wonder why people like going to award shows.”

“You’ve never been to one?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

“During the first few years. But after that… overdose incident, I wasn’t in the right state to attend public events,” you feel your voice shake; the memories of that night coming back to you. “Not only was I afraid, but so were the executives.”

You’ve never told any in showbiz about your drug overdose incident. Why are you telling him? Maybe, there was just something about Drew that made you want to. 

And sure, everyone knew, from the media, where things are often exaggerated and vilified. But, did anyone bother hearing it from you? 

This incident changed your entire life. To others, it was just hot gossip. 

“Have you ever had a standing ovation for you?” You change the topic, his lack of response worrying you. 

“No; but it sounds amazing,” Drew says. “I’ll…I’ll look for you when I do.”

There's something in his voice, though, something that almost feels like a promise.

“Will that time even come?” You decide to tease him instead, uncomfortable with how cheesy this is going. 

“Sooner than you think,” he winks at you, before glancing down at the pill. “Take one after you shower; you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, before looking towards the bathroom. “I stink, don’t I?”

“Not the worst you’ve stunk,” he comments, and you roll your eyes. 

“Whatever,” you get up, but way too fast, making you almost stumble. Drew holds onto your arm, steadying you. 

“Need help?”

“I can manage,” you breathe out, shaking his hand off and walking over to the bedroom. You spot your suitcase, opening it and taking a shirt and underwear. You see the bed, realizing that it’s yet another one-bed situation. You peek out the bedroom door, and Drew immediately turns his face over to you. “Um, you can have the bed if you want.”

Shyly, you close the door, ending the conversation. 

—— 

Drew slept on the couch that night, without any protests. 

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

word count: 3.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: a lot to take in for this chapter...phew

i have a one shot idea coming up, so look forward to it! same as usual, thx for reading, and sry for the long update (ignore my mistakes). i try writing as much as i can, but schedule doesnt allow it T_T

ps, is this a safe space? um, i was kinda losing motivation for this series a couple of days ago. but, i saw the taglist, and the ending i planned for this series. so, safe to say i got to writing!

elevator | other | index | ch5 | ch7

[novelistrry]

Harry visibly clenched his jaw, but that didn’t stop Y/N from going on, “You want to speak of your deception and your dishonor?”

“I don’t think you have any right to speak about deception or dishonor, Y/N. You parade yourself as the perfect princess, and yet, you lie to your subjects. Do not lecture me on deception or dishonor,” Harry drew the boundary between them, a harsh red line that was clear and hard to miss. 

“Is blackmail honorable, Prince?” Y/N seethed.

“Is fucking the stable boy honorable, Princess?” Harry didn’t know if this was actually factual, it was only the assumption he made as to why the stable boy would lie for Y/N for so long.

Y/N stuttered over her words, “I-I’m not!”

Or

Harry is a prince, Y/N is a princess, and Harry is incredibly deceptive

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating, tension, etc.

Warning: Mentions of panic attacks, nightmares, wet dreams, praise kink, deception, etc!

Word Count: 15k+ with the prologue, 12k without.

Prologue (A/N: only read this if you have not read the blurb, if you’ve already read the blurb you can scroll down to where part one “The Ruse” starts)

Y/N hated Harry.

Actually, she wasn’t quite sure the loathing could run quite as deep as it did. It was almost as if when her eyes locked with his, or she got a whiff of his cologne in the corridor, the hatred would flow through her veins and act as a power source. As if the only fuel she needed was how much she absolutely and utterly loathed that man.

So when her handmaid had told her summertime was officially in action, and she knew what summertime brought, Y/N wanted to stomp her foot like a child and throw herself onto the floor. 

Summer was supposed to be excellent, filled with fruits and sunny skies. It was supposed to be warm and lovely, but when Y/N’s parents invite Harry and his family to the palace every summer, it’s hard to find enjoyment in the season. 

He was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and Y/N wasn’t one to deny it. Green mosaic eyes, captivating and alluring like a siren sat atop a rock luring sailors in with that beautiful voice. Only instead of using his rhythmic voice to lure her in, he used the gaze of his eyes. Soft features and delicate sculpting to his face that were so perfect it was absolutely infuriating. He was perfect, truly, in every way possible and the people loved his beautiful face and charming personality. 

Except when the large wooden doors shut, leaving Y/N and Harry alone (which wasn’t supposed to happen per Y/N’s request, by the way), his mouth was foul and his charming qualities were consigned to oblivion. Around Y/N, Harry was his worst version of himself and Y/N could not stand him. 

“I don’t want him to come this year, Dorothea!” Y/N exclaimed to her chambermaid as her heels clicked against the large tile pieces. She was pacing back and forth, a nervous tick she’s had since she was little. 

Sweat accumulated in the pits of her palms, a telling sign that she was nervous, though she would never say that to Dorothea or let it be known to Harry because he would never let her live it down. 

See, Y/N and Harry were similar in two ways. One, they were both heir to a royal bloodline. And two, they were both so, so stubborn. 

“I know, dear.” Dorothea, the sweetest old lady the palace could find, spent most of her day assisting Y/N in her needs even though there weren’t very many of those. Y/N was relatively low maintenance and hated to be waited on, “It’s only three months.”

With that sentiment, Y/N sat on the edge of her bed that was just made and fluffed, deciding she would spend her day sulking in her room rather than participating in any of the start of summer festivities. As if Dorothea could tell Y/N just wanted to be left alone, she quietly made her way out of the room, and left Y/N to her own devices.

____

Maybe dreams do come true, because the summer season had officially been in swing for three days and there were no sights of Harry, or his family, lingering around the palace. Eventually, she thought she would turn the corner and catch him chatting up a chambermaid with a devilish smile and eyes that would turn a girl into a puddle of melted candy, but it had been three days and even the girls she passed (who were anticipating him heavily) were whispering about the prince being late.

By the fifth day, Y/N was beginning to feel the weight lift off her chest and the ease flood through her veins. Though she didn’t dare to ask her parents about Prince Harry’s whereabouts because that would come with an agonizingly painful interrogation (they truly believed their daughter would wed the man), and a small reprimand because of her prior years sour behavior toward him, though they didn’t know just how insufferable he was in return. 

Small talk whisked throughout the palace by the seventh day, explaining that Prince Harry would not be attending this summer season because he was to be married by the end of the year to a princess Y/N had never heard of. A small twitch shot through her chest, but she brushed it off feigning it as relief she never had to deal with him again. While Y/N acted oblivious, everyone knew the reason Harry and his family visited the palace every summer is because the families were hoping for an alliance of sorts— for Harry and Y/N to form a union, to form a bond that would end in marriage. As much as she chalked the twitch in her chest and the hollow in her belly as a feeling of relief, she was confused as to why she wished he would have written. Not necessarily her, but at least to her parents, informing that he would not be there this summer (or any summer for that matter because he was getting married) that way she didn’t have to walk around for days on end, thinking there would be a jumpscare in the corridor or the dining hall.

A flicker of annoyance lit inside of her, an emotion she was familiar with and actually grateful for at the moment because it took away from the abnormal sensation in the chest and abdomen. Why wouldn’t he write? Or his parents at the very least? What kind of person does that? Y/N knew just how hard the chambermaids, the scullery kitchen, and the people who made the palace function as well as it did were working to ensure their guests were accommodated and comfortable for the three months they were staying with them.

It was very unlike Y/N, usually very polite and soft-spoken to feel that kind of irritation. The kind that was so pent up it was making her breathing slightly erratic and she was puffing breaths in and out through her nose. In a very un-Y/N like fashion, she decided that if Prince Harry wasn’t going to write to her, then she was going to write to him and tell him how distasteful his lack of presence or notification on the betrothal was.

Before she could even process what she was doing, she was in the main library of the palace, sitting at the writing table and crafting a heartfelt message to her dear friend Prince Harry, slightly berating him in each line for his so-called prince ethics (or lack-there-of). 

Dear Prince Harry,

I am sitting here, writing to tell you how distasteful I find your lack of arrival. It is great news within our palace that you are to be married, which in turn, delays your arrival to our annual summer festivities, and possibly inhibits you from attending these festivities ever again.

A true prince, knowing royal ethics, would have written far in advance, revoking his acceptance to my family’s invitation. It seems that, as always, you are too engrossed in your own endeavors to care about the people around you who have taken the time to prepare for your arrival. 

I know our royal household has been working gravely to make certain you and your family have a wonderful stay over the summer, as they have done every summer for the past two years—

“I knew I would find you in here,” his voice, clear and steady, echoed through the library bouncing off the walls and the leather bindings of the books which sat on the shelves of the wall, “You’re always in here doing something or another.”

She knew who it was by the sound of his voice, deep and sultry. He always spoke with such precision and so bluntly that even with her eyes closed, she could tell who it was just by the energy that filled the space. Arrogance and tempting were his two most significant qualities and they always filled the room, leaving her to suffocate in his presence.

Quickly, she jumped up and grabbed the letter, crumpling it in her hands. The ink was so fresh it smeared all over her hands with her rush, and when she looked to see him standing under the doorway, she noted that not a thing about him had changed. He stood with that same arrogance in his posture, his eyes were still that deepsea green, and his lips, chin, and jaw were as beautiful (if not more) as the last time she saw him.

Quirking his eyebrows, he couldn’t help himself. “Now I need to know what was in that letter you were writing. Are you in love, my dear Y/N.”

He took a step forward, and she realized he thought she would just hand the letter over to him, like it was his property to be read. And even though it technically was, the letter was now void because he did, in fact, show up for the summer season. While it may have been intended for him, the content of the letter did not matter, and because he expected her to walk over and drop the letter in the palm of his hand, that absolutely infuriated her.

“I will not give this to you,” Y/N shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows. She almost cringed at the tone of her voice, so abrasive and calloused. Harry brought out the worst in her, he really did. Though, she didn’t understand how Harry could make this frustration brew inside of her when the rest of the Styles were so lovely to be around.

In two long strides, Harry was rounding the writing desk and in front of her. He towered over her, reaching for the crumpled letter in her hands and before she could grasp the paper tighter, it slipped beneath her fingertips and he was reading it aloud.

“I thought you said this wasn’t for me, Princess?” Harry wasn’t asking, it was more rhetorical than anything. The mock in his tone sent a heat through her, plummeting up from where her heart dropped in her stomach to the apples of her cheeks.

He held the letter above the both of them, the words still readable even though the ink was smeared on the page. As he read aloud, Y/N wanted to drop to the floor and cover her ears from listening to speak her foolish words out loud. If anything, the letter was an act of catharsis. She probably would have never actually sent it to Harry, even if she said she was going to, but writing the words on the paper and pretending like she was going to send it to him was semi-therapeutic. By the second line, she was jumping in the air like a fish out of water, trying to grasp the letter from his hands so he couldn’t continue. To make matters worse, he was chuckling between words and flashing wide grins in her direction when he paused.

Eventually, the way she was jumping and frantically trying to snatch the letter from him was just as humiliating as the strong words she had put on that piece of paper he held in his hands, so she stopped and turned away from him so that he could not see the look of horror on her face as he finished reading the letter.

Finally, he got to the part where he walked in and startled her from her writing desk, her thoughts coming to an abrupt halt on the paper when his voice echoed throughout the room, and even though he was done reading the letter, she couldn’t bear to look at him. If there was one thing about Harry, he always had the upper hand with her. Always.

“I wish I hadn’t interrupted your thoughts when I came in here a few moments ago. I’m positive the rest of this letter would have been a great read, and you print your thoughts so eloquently, Y/N.” He was trying to get under her skin, even though he knew he had already burrowed himself under the flesh like a mite the second he walked in the room. That was another one of Harry’s traits— he wanted to see just how much he could push her until she snapped, because he loved watching her snap.

“Enough,” she spoke, barely turning to look at him. She caught a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye, enough for her to squint just barely and for him to know she was giving him a dirty look.

“Well, Y/N, clearly this letter was for me. Was it not?” He was doing it; pushing and pressing until the temper within her flicked on a light and her thoughts rifling through her brain started spewing like fire, the world around them turning to ash with each word that fell from her lips and targeted him like a huntsman and its prey. 

“It wasn’t for you—” She began, getting cut off by the prince.

“It clearly says ‘Dear Prince Harry, I am sitting here, writing to y—”

Within under a second, she was turning on her heels to face him once more and trying to pry the letter from his fingers. To no avail, she didn’t think she could handle him reading the letter out loud once more, so she covered her ears and began begging him to stop. The worst part was the feeling she had in her gut, the feeling one gets in their gut and their throat before the tears start forming in their eyes. While Harry had many horrid qualities about him, one of her terrible qualities were tears that formed, not out of sadness, but out of anger. Deeply, she inhaled to smooth out her thoughts and quiet her mind. “Stop, stop, stop.”

Grinning like the devil, he spoke slowly and quietly so any chambermaids passing by could not hear the words he was about to speak to her, “Are you embarrassed, Princess? The girl everyone thinks is so ladylike and polite writing words that would tarnish that sweet reputation.”

“I was never going to send it, and I think you know that,” she countered, and even though she knew he knew that letter was never going to leave her possession, she felt like she needed to reiterate that point.

Carefully and slowly—almost painfully slowly— he brought his finger to her cheeks and swiped across to feel the heat radiating off of her skin and she knew he was gaining even more satisfaction at the heat in her cheeks confirming his question, that she was embarrassed by him finding her letter. To rub salt in the wound, he folded the letter up and stuffed it in the pit of his pocket where she would not dare to fish out, as it was not very polite to stick your hand in someone else’s pocket, “For safekeeping,” he stated.

Those two words made her want to do it— stick her hand in his pocket and fish the letter out, tear it in little tiny pieces, and then stomp on the shreds of paper right in front of him, but she wouldn’t do it because she, unlike him, did not lack manners.

“You are absolutely unbearable, Prince. Do not think my opinion on you has changed. I can assure you it has not,” she wanted to get under his skin the way he got under hers, so she added, “Where is your betrothed?” 

He paused for a moment, searching for the words, “I am not to be married, Y/N.”

The tone was cut and brief, not the same tone he had when she was pushing his buttons, but a clear line was drawn showing her this is where the boundary was placed, and as much as she wanted to upset him the way he upset her, Y/N did not want to pick and pry about his presumably failed engagement. Though, she did not blame the girl for not wanting to marry someone with such an insufferable attitude. And maybe, just maybe, she also didn’t want to hear about the girl. She didn’t want Harry to talk about how beautiful she was, or what her hobbies were. She didn’t want to know a thing about her or how she wormed her way into the heart of someone so aloof and out of touch with the idea of love. To put it plainly, she didn’t want to hear about their courtship and what he did to make her swoon.

Y/N would never admit it, but the first time she ever met Harry, she was taken with him. And then he opened his mouth, all-knowing and witty bordering intolerable.

“Well, then,” Y/N didn’t quite know what to say in response, seeming to be more uncomfortable with the idea of him getting married than he was.

With a mere couple inches between them, he leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Soft lips grazed the tops of her ears, a warm heat shooting through her, and though she was disgusted with herself for having such an instinctual reaction to his body and his lips so close to her skin, she was graceful enough to remind herself that it was only natural for her core to stir and her stomach to flip.

And when he finally spoke, his lips moved against her ear, “I am going to enjoy playing with you this summer, Y/N.”

She wanted to scream. She almost did.

Instead she took a step back, gasping and brushing out the wrinkles in her dress, “I absolutely loathe you.”

“I love that you loathe me,” he replied before turning on his heels and walking out of the library.

Y/N knew it was going to be a long summer filled with taunts from Harry.

And much to her dismay, that night she dreamed about his lips pressing against her.

I. The Ruse

Y/N had told Dorothea she was feeling too ill to attend the breakfast table that morning. Albeit, the truth of the matter was that she was shaken by her dreams poisoned by Harry— maybe they were good dreams about his lips, his fingers, the way he caressed her cheek, but the fact that it was Harry doing those things to her was enough to deduce it was a nightmare. A terrible, terrible nightmare.

“Should I fetch you some tea?” Dorothea pressed her hand to Y/N’s forehead, feeling for a fever, but when the skin under her hands was cool rather than clammy, Dorothea raised an eyebrow in suspicion. 

“No, no,” Y/N swung the covers over her, revealing her nightgown. Stiffly, she planted her feet on the wooden planks beneath the bed as she made a show of stretching, “Don’t fuss over me. I’m already feeling much better, Dorothea.”

“Better enough to attend breakfast?” Dorothea questioned her, the brow still raised in suspicion, and Y/N knows she should just tell Dorothea the truth but it was her stubborn nature that prevented her from letting Dorothea know about her encounter with the Prince yesterday. 

“I believe it’s late anyway,” Y/N reasoned, “I will fetch something when the dining hall has been cleared out.”

Dorothea only shook her head in disappointment, but Y/N pretended not to notice. 

______________

In an effort to maintain his dignity, Harry had to stop looking at the chestnut oak double doors separating the dining hall from the rest of the castle. Each time a servant opened the door to replenish something on the table, Harry’s head snapped over, hoping it would be Y/N that walked through the doors just so he could see her again. 

It was agonizing, honestly. She was sweeter than droplets of nectar. Bees were probably drawn to her, knowing her personality was as sweet as the honey they produced, attracting to her like the pollen they longed to search for. 

That, precisely, is why she aggravated Harry so much. From the time Harry was born, it was engraved in his brain that he was a ruler; he was honorable, decisive, and empathetic. All the qualities that made up a leader, and he knew it, too. Though, he was self-aware enough to know where he was lacking, and he was lacking (probably) the most important quality a leader can have—compassion and the ability to connect. 

For Y/N, that was something that came so naturally. She could connect with just about anyone. The princess blended in with the common folk so... Seamlessly, it was absolutely infuriating. Harry had tried, plenty of times, to blend in, to connect with his people and his royal household but he could never achieve it the way Y/N did. She was a real princess, and it made him feel like a fraud. 

Years had passed with him learning about how to rule, the best way, the honorable way. For Y/N, it seemed that she was born with the knowledge, never having to lift a finger or read a book. 

So it pleased him, angering her to the point of outbursts. In her court, she was polite, loved, and deemed the absolute most charismatic one can be. When she was just about shaking with rage, foul words dripping from her lips, that is when Harry was content— when she looked less like a statue, the perfect creation this court has formed her to be, and more like a human. More like him. 

That is when the irritation he felt toward her stopped festering, just for a moment in time. 

And he knew he was absolutely terrible for it, absolutely atrocious, but he wanted to corrupt her. Ruin the molding she was fit into. 

Sounds of fingers fiddling on the doorknob caused him to look up, and when a servant walked in with another tray of warm bread and fresh butter, his eyes averted to his plate to avoid the teasing that was about to come from the King’s Hand— or well, Prince’s Hand, really, since he wouldn’t truly be the King’s Hand until Harry’s coronation.

But he was too late, and the words were already coming out of Niall’s mouth, “If you’re going to keep glancing up every time someone walks in, wishing her to walk through those doors, then why don’t you just go seek her out?”

“I don’t wish for her to walk through those doors, Niall,” Harry’s jaw tensed as he spoke, the inclination that he was waiting for her making him somewhat irate, “I am merely observing, isn’t that important? To be aware of one’s surroundings?”

“Yes,” Niall sucked in his teeth, moving his gaze from the angle of Harry’s jaw back to his plate of food, “Indeed it is.”

Harry spread butter on a fresh piece of bread, ignoring Niall’s comment, and when Niall realized Harry wasn’t going to say anything else, he continued to poke the bear. “Why didn’t you marry Duchess Violet when you had the opportunity? Why push the wedding? So you could come here? See her?”

A hiss left Harry’s mouth before answering in a hushed voice, low enough that the people around them could not hear. “Why so many questions, Niall?”

“I’m trying to understand,” he shrugged his shoulders, the level of his voice now matching Harry’s.

“I pushed the wedding because I did not want to marry the Duchess, Niall. Simple as that. I came here because my parents are convinced that Princess Y/N and I will form an attachment if I spend enough time with her. That is what they want after all.”

“Then what?” Niall’s questioning was causing sweat to bead on Harry’s forehead. He didn’t want to think of the then what factor.

“I suppose when I return home, the arrangement between the Duchess and I will initiate once more.” Harry cocked his head over to Niall, dropping the piece of bread on his plate. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“What is your game here this summer, Prince?” Niall asked, locking eyes with Harry’s whose eyes were the same pigment as a field of green clovers populating in the crisp months of Spring, mischief dancing in his irises.

Slowly and carefully he gave Niall the essence of his plan, “I will convince the Princess to form an alliance with me— A facade, if you will. We will put on a show, and before our attachment is sealed with a ring, she will say she can no longer do it. And I will be so heartbroken, to the nation’s knowledge, that they will not pester me about marrying. I do not need to marry. I will not need to marry.”

“And will you be heartbroken, Prince?” This seemed to be Niall’s only concern.

“No,” Harry paused and then added on, “I do not believe so.”

“And what if she does not agree to a facade?” 

“Then I will charm her. Seduce her.” This was all Harry was willing to say on the matter as he pushed his chair up.

______________

Y/N, to her credit, was full of secrets.

Every now and again, she would poke her head out, scan the corridor, then jump back into her bedchamber when she heard the sound of heels clicking against the flooring. 

And she’s never felt quite so childish before. Usually, when Harry came for the summer, Y/N didn’t go out of her way to avoid him, but after their interaction in the study she didn’t think she was ready to face him yet. 

If Y/N was honest with herself, two years ago when she first met the prince, she was quite smitten. And maybe it was the fact that he was engaged to someone else. .. Someone Y/N didn’t know. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t bother to tell her, or write to her family that got her so worked up. Maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that someone wormed their way into his icy chest and planted a seed of fire that caused him to want them.

She had trouble admitting it to herself, but she fancied Harry more than she let on. The only person in the entire castle that knew just how deep her feelings for Harry ran was Dorothea, though the words had never left Y/N’s lips and they might not ever. 

Rage has simmered in her gut, boiling over into her fingertips that flowed against the page where she etched words onto a canvas that conveyed her grievances with Harry. The memory of her sitting there, rage-writing a letter she never intended to send, and Harry snatching it out of her hands and reading aloud sent a churn in her stomach, the humiliation of the moment festering inside her once more. 

The true reason she had been avoiding him, at last. She was utterly embarrassed by the entire ordeal. All he had to do was read in between the lines, and all of her feelings were on display. Harry having that letter was a different kind of vulnerability. 

So she snuck out to the stables, where her good friend Brad worked as the stable boy. Y/N and Brad shared a secret the people did not know, it was kept between the two of them, and she liked Brad for the fact he has known her secret for about four years and has not told a soul has made her like them all the more. 

Boots trudged in the muddy grass as she made her way out to the stables, where Brad tended to her horses (and the other horses, of course). Birds cooed in the sky, the sing-song noises filling her ears and putting her at peace for the first time since yesterday. 

When she had finally made it to the big barn, nearly a quarter mile away from the actual castle, Brad was nowhere to be seen. Quietly, she lurked around, craning her head around corners and scouting him out. 

Right as she was about to call out his name, because it was very unlikely for him to not be here, she rounded one more corner and saw him nestled next to the Prince— next to Harry. 

She almost audibly groaned when she saw him standing there, invading her space. Where she liked to go to clear her head, but before a noise could escape her lips, she realized if she slowly backed out of the hall then she might escape the pair before either of them saw her.

As she slowly tried to back out of the hall encompassed by horse stables, the two rather close together, both snapped their heads in her direction. Two sets of eyes locked with hers, her mouth watering as her stomach turns nervously when Harry’s green gaze of disapproval scans her up and down.

“Y/N?” Brad asked, projecting his tone down the length of the hall so she could hear him clearly, “What are you doing all the way down there?”

“Nothing!” Her tone projected as well, matching Brad’s. “I was thinking I could see Freya, but I see you’re busy.”

“Why don’t you come closer, Princess? So we don’t have to shout too loud.” Harry said, and Y/N knew the look upon his face. Whenever he was about to do something devious, a smirk would spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling with the game he was about to partake in.

And Y/N doesn’t know why she listened to him, why she didn’t just turn away, but before she could tell herself to stop, she was walking toward the both of them. Each step felt shameful, her eyes averting from Harry’s and to Brad. She couldn’t stand the way Harry looked at her, like she was a toy, like he could burn holes through her soul if he really wanted to.

She shifted her body to angle more toward Brad, not completely cutting Harry out of the circle they were now standing in, but angling herself enough to show that her body language was more open to Brad than she was to Harry.

“Isn’t this one Freya?” Harry pointed to the stall directly across from them. There stood her light gray horse, mane and tail braided perfectly. 

Actually, if someone saw Y/N and Freya standing side by side, they would simply know Freya was meant for Y/N by the way she holds herself; strong, with a gentle demeanor radiating off her. The only problem is that people would never see Freya and Y/N side by side, because Y/N (as much as she loved Freya) was too afraid to take her out of her stall. In Y/N’s kingdom, it was inevitable that every young prince or princess had to ride, because at their coronation one of the requirements was to ride in on their horse. The issue wasn’t that Y/N didn’t know how to ride. She did. The issue was that Y/N wouldn’t because of an accident that happened three years ago, leaving Y/N scared to ever get on the back of a horse, or to even walk around with her lead rope in hand. Nobody knew, except Brad, that Y/N hadn’t been on the back of her horse since the accident, it was a secret the two of them kept together.

“Yes,” Y/N turned to him, just slightly, “That is her.”

“Go on, then,” Harry motioned toward her, “We don’t mind if you take her out.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped, glancing at Brad to see if he could help her worm her way out of this situation. He has helped her before, when her parents would find her in the stable and ask if she wanted to go on a ride with them. Brad would say something like, Princess Y/N just put Freya back, they went on a lengthy ride earlier and Freya is resting now. It made Y/N feel selfish to know how much trouble Brad could get in for lying, but she was too much of a coward to tell anyone her fears.

Brad interjected, just not with what she hoped for, “Y/N doesn’t ride.”

Confusion contorted Y/N’s features as he outed her secret to the one person she didn’t want to know an inkling about her. “Brad!”

Brad’s eyes widened slightly, his brows raising as he replied, “I’m sorry, Y/N! I thought it was okay for him to know? It’s not as if he lives in the palace.”

Harry stepped closer, putting a pin in the conversation Brad and Y/N were beginning to have right in front of him, “Why doesn’t she ride?”

Brad waited, momentarily, for Y/N to respond but when her lips stayed sealed, withholding the information from Harry he decided to come clean for her. “Y/N has panic attacks when she gets too close to horses. Nobody knows.”

At least he didn’t tell Harry why horses made her panic.

“Yet you come out here anyway?”

Heedfully, she took in a deep breath and began to collect her thoughts which seemed to be swimming everywhere. These past two days, she had never felt so exposed, so bare in front of him. First with the letter, and now with Brad’s indiscretion to Y/N’s secret. “As you may already know, horse riding is big in our culture, so I come out here to keep up appearances. And, I do love my Freya.”

“You’re a fraud, then? A liar?” Harry sucked in a breath, that grin teetering on amusement— a fine line between pure and utter cruelty. 

“If that’s what you will call it,” Y/N tried not to let the emotions welling inside show on her face, remaining neutral and stoic was the best way to ignore Harry. She, too, could sink her claws in him and tear him apart by simply ignoring him. “I must be going.”

Swiftly, she turned, paying no mind to Freya and blocking out the snickering coming from Harry as she walked out of the barn. Her boots trudged in the mud once more, and the frustration brewing inside was threatening to spill over, though she would not allow it to until she was alone in the privacy of her own room. 

The palace was in plain sight, she only needed to walk a straight narrow path before she could take a side door to the main corridor and scurry off to her room (hopefully avoiding many of the household staff on the way). It was unfair, but she wanted to yell at Brad for offering Harry such private information. Should she blame him, though? He’s been keeping her secret for nearly three years, lying for her, and obviously he didn’t know that Harry had brutish tendencies— especially when it came to her. In fact, she thought back to it. The way the two of them were standing, how Harry was shifting closer to Brad with each word. If Y/N didn’t know better, Harry was trying to turn Brad into putty in his hands which honestly might have been more of an issue than him knowing her secret panic attacks she would have in the privacy of Freya’s stall. Was Harry interested in Brad, trying to charm him with his good looks and that personality that oozed sweetness? Y/N may have never seen that side of him, but amongst the chambermaids he was quite the sweet-talker.

“Y/N,” a low, gruff voice called from behind her. When she tried to pick up the pace, she only heard the shuffling of Harry’s boots behind her go faster. 

It wasn’t like she would be able to escape him, if he truly wanted to pester her he would find her in her bedchamber. It was better to have a discussion with him out in the open instead of him tainting her bedchamber with his attitude. 

“What?” She turned on her heels and snapped her head toward him, the tone of her voice laced with anger.

“I wanted to have a discussion with you,” he took a few steps closer so they were only an arms distance from each other. He wanted his next words to be just barely above a whisper.

“Then speak,” Y/N pursed her lips together, crossing her arms so that she could shield herself against him in some way. Clearly, crossing her arms wasn’t actually going to protect her from him, but in a way, it felt like a mental shield, keeping him out of her head and far away.

“It has been two days of me gracing you with my company, and within those two days, I have obtained a letter I’m convinced you would not like to fall into the wrong hands, and I have discovered you have been deceiving many people and getting the stable boy to lie for you,” Harry’s pointer finger traced under her chin, noting the shiver that ran down her back as she stepped away from his touch, “Now, if you do not want that letter circulating throughout the palace, and if you do not want everyone to know you are a fraud, then you will offer me something I need.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Harry was blackmailing her? She had always taken him for possessing a certain cruelty about him, but never thought he would stoop low to the point where blackmail (quite literally when she takes the letter into consideration) would be hanging over her head like a bundle of mistletoe. 

“What is wrong with you?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stepping backward as her arms tightened around herself once more. 

“What is your answer, Y/N?” He spoke with such an airy indifference that she almost couldn’t tell if he was playing a very humorless joke on her.

“I don’t believe I have much of a choice in the matter!” She barked back, and that flicker of anger displayed on her face and in her tone of voice made his lips curve up into a cursed smile, so she tried to cool herself down and remain stoic— just as unbothered as he seemed to be.

“I am giving you a choice, darling,” Harry said, the word rolling off his tongue like the pet name was second nature to him, “One option is unfavorable, though. For you, at the very least.”

It was written across his face; either answer she gave him was a win for him. This was a situation where she was going to lose, a situation where the upper hand was in his court and he was playing the game with no mercy. If she said yes, she was indebted to him, owing him a favor. And if she said no, the shame of her actions would not only reflect on her, but her family as well. 

“Tell me what you need,” an exasperated sigh she didn’t mean to let out, falling from her lips.

“Agree first.” Harry was a politician first, a prince second, and a human being last.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “Do you believe I haven’t learned to never agree to something binding without knowing the stipulations first, Prince?”

“And do you think I would present my vulnerabilities to you without an answer first? I tell you, you don’t agree with the clause, and now you know what I need. Why should I do that?” His reasoning was valid to her, though she would never admit to it.

“Then my answer is no,” Y/N began turning on her heels to walk away; get as far away as she possibly could, but she stopped in her tracks when he caught up behind her, hooking his fingers around her waist and pressing his front against her back.

Incredibly cool and collected, he pressed his lips against her ears before he spoke, causing a chill to rip down her spine and a tightening coil in the pit of her stomach. “You’ve made your choice, then. Tonight in the dining hall, while we are in the middle of dinner with the most important people, I will stand and tell everyone of your fraudulent activities. In fact, I might even embellish it— explain how you’ve been keeping the stable boy so quiet with your mouth. Do you know what that means, princess? I will tell them how you’ve squandered his innocence, and when the shame is rising from here,” Harry’s fingers trailed from her hip to her stomach, and then all the way up to the apple of her cheeks, “To here… That is when I will twist the knife, and begin reading your finest letter aloud. And when you are crying, I will not stop.”

Y/N turned back around, stepping away from him to get distance before spitting out, “You are cruel, Harry. So, very, cruel.”

“You are flattering me,” he quirked an eyebrow, and she so badly wanted to connect her fist to that stupid smirk on his face.

“Fine,” Y/N nodded her head, refusing to give him any more leverage, “I will help you.”

“Great, then I will court you for the entire summer, and just before it is time for me to propose to you… You will come up with some excuse to break it off, and I will pretend I am utterly heartbroken and need time to heal.” 

Y/N was shocked his ruse was not nearly as bad as she had expected it to be. She thought maybe he would be requesting her to break into the general’s office and steal classified military documents, or something absolutely absurd and dangerous. But a courtship under false pretenses was… Dishonorable, but not a crime.

“That’s it?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Why?”

“Because,” he was beginning to feel frustrated, and Y/N could tell by the way he pinched the bridge of his nose in between his fingers. “I do not want to marry the Dutchess, and I fear if I do not place a ring on your finger, that is my destiny. However, if you end our courtship and I feign heartbreak, how could anyone tell me I need to marry when I lost the love of my life.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke the words.

“And—” Y/N began to ask another question before Harry interrupted her.

“That is all the information I will give you on the topic.”

“Fine,” she, herself, was done with the conversation anyway. There were much better things for her to do than scheme with Harry, “Now if you would leave me be, I would like some space from you.”

“Take what you need, because after dinner we will be attached at the hip once we announce our courtship.”

This might be the death of Y/N.

______________

Pretending to be under the weather was not going to cut it this evening, Y/N knew she couldn’t get out of another meal with her family, Harry’s, and the other important people that made it to the dining hall list without a stern talking to from Dorothea. 

On top of that, she knew that Harry was going to announce their courtship, and he probably wouldn’t be too keen on the idea of announcing it without her there. Actually, she wasn’t too keen on the idea, either. Who knows what he would say?

With thoughts racing through her head, and the click of her ballet flats on the mosaic tile, she made her way down the corridor until she was standing just outside of the tall oak doors. As soon as they opened, she would find her seat, and her fate for the summer would be sealed.

“Looking nervous, darling.” Harry spoke from behind her, creeping up on her for the third time since he’s been here. Rolling her eyes was beginning to become a natural reaction at this point. 

“Don’t call me that,” Y/N hissed out, barely taking her eyes from the door as he walked up behind her so he was nearly touching her backside as his fingers reached for the knob and turned it slowly. 

It was quiet when her eyes locked with her mother and father’s eyes, and when she slid her gaze over to Harry’s parents, she couldn’t help but feel shame that ticked in her lower stomach. It was one thing to be deceptive to her own parents; it was another to be deceptive to someone else’s. This was definitely something she was going to bring up to Harry later. 

Dorothea was sitting beside Y/N’s mother, and when she noticed her, Dorothea offered an approving smile and a small glance toward Harry’s direction. On multiple occasions, Dorothea had tried to convince Y/N that Harry was not that horrible as she knew him since he was a young boy, but Y/N would gawk and scoff and exclaim with exasperation: Why are you taking his side? Now, Dorothea had believed Harry finally charmed Y/N just enough to weasel his way into her heart, but little did Dorothea know, it was quite the opposite. 

Dinner was going by smoothly. Every now and again, Harry would make some small talk with Y/N, and as soon as the pair began speaking softly under their breath, the entire table would stop talking to hear what the two of them were conversing about. It was making Y/N rather anxious to have so much attention thrown in her general direction, but she supposed if she were in their shoes, she would be just as curious.

Before the meal came to a close, Harry tapped a shiny piece of silverware against his glass, gaining everyone’s attention. Though, Y/N wanted to tell him if he wanted all eyes on him, all he would have to do is look at her, whisper her name, and the chattering amongst the table would cease so everyone could hone in on their private conversation. “Everyone, I wanted to announce mine and precious Y/N’s courtships. After two long summers of denying our tension amongst one another, we decided it was in everyone’s best interest if we gave our compatibility a shot.”

A couple people clapped, and Y/N tried so hard to repress the eyeroll and the scoff that wanted to surface so badly. Dorothea shot a wink in her direction, so Y/N offered a small smile because a grimace would lead to questioning from her later, and lying to Dorothea was not something she felt too good about. Y/N had already deceived her once today by feigning illness, and twice with Harry’s speech of their courtship, but she did not want to have a separate conversation with Dorothea that contained the weight of her lies.

As soon as dinner ended, Y/N found herself rushing from the dining hall, nausea filling her gut as bile threatened to creep up her throat. In a few turns, she was down the corridor, and finally, she was on the terrace, breathing in the crisp night air. Stars illuminated the sky, the moon brightening the path she was walking down, and she should have known better to think she would get just one moment alone (or one moment where Harry was not creeping up behind her).

“Y/N, I want to talk,” Harry whispered, although the words may have been hushed, but they were on the louder side like a… Hushed shout?

“I’m not sure I would like to talk right now,” Y/N replied back, kicking scattered rocks out of the path they were taking that led to the gardens on the right side of the palace.

“I promise I will leave you alone for the night after this,” Harry sounded sincere, “I just want to work out the logistics with you.”

“The logistics with me?” Y/N scoffed, pivoting on her heels and throwing her hands up in exasperation. The tone of her voice was laced with venom, and the scrunch of her nose which led all the way up to her eyebrows, giving her the look of an angry kitten was enough to tell Harry she was quite upset with the ordeal, “You mean, you would like to speak of your deception?”

Harry visibly clenched his jaw, but that didn’t stop Y/N from going on, “You want to speak of your deception and your dishonor?”

“I don’t think you have any right to speak about deception or dishonor, Y/N. You parade yourself as the perfect princess, and yet, you lie to your subjects. Do not lecture me on deception or dishonor,” Harry drew the boundary between them, a harsh red line that was clear and hard to miss. 

“Is blackmail honorable, Prince?” Y/N seethed.

“Is fucking the stable boy honorable, Princess?” Harry didn’t know if this was actually factual, it was only the assumption he made as to why the stable boy would lie for Y/N for so long.

Y/N stuttered over her words, “I-I’m not!”

“Maybe you’re not,” he looked her up and down, the sinister glare in his eyes making her want to recoil into herself, “But you want to.”

Y/N did not deny her attraction to the stable boy, though, she had never fantasized of him in such salacious ways, and that little flicker of emotion that ran across her features was something Harry picked up on immediately. 

“Would it break your little heart, Princess?” Harry took a step closer, the vein on his neck popping out as he clenched his jaw harder, “If I let your stable boy lay in my bed?”

Y/N gasped. She had never heard someone be so… Vulgar. 

The response she was looking for swam through her head but she couldn’t quite locate it as she filed through the crevices of her brain. How could she answer that? To her luck, Harry was on his heels and walking toward the direction of the stables so she didn’t have to respond to him. He muttered out the grumpiest, “I’ll find you later,” and Y/N’s heart sank as she realized Harry was trying to find Brad to either bed him, or tell Brad about her embarrassing little crush. Y/N had never felt so exposed in her own territory. 

______________

“This is never going to work, Niall!” Harry exclaimed, kicking off his riding boots and pacing his way back and forth in Niall’s personal cabin. Niall was the Prince’s Hand, his second in command, but he needed his space. When they would come for the summer, Niall would occupy the cottage on the outskirts of the palace, the only way to get there was by horseback, which is part of the reason he felt so comfortable being open with Niall. There was no possible way the princess would be strolling down the corridor and overhear him chatting with Niall when they were so far away, and the only way she could get there was by horseback, which he knew she wouldn’t do.

“What do you mean?” Niall looked over at him, pouring a glass of sparkling wine that was located on the bar top near the kitchenette. Harry noted that Niall was pouring two glasses, one for Harry and one for himself.

“She’s too stubborn.” Harry sighed out, taking the glass from Niall as he reached his hand out, then plummeted into one of the cushion filled chairs in the corner of the room. “She won’t be able to go through with it.”

“And you have leverage over her, do you not? I thought that was why you were so sure of your plan?” Niall pressed the frosted glass to his lips, then tipped his head back.

Harry followed suit, tipping his head back after pressing the cool glass to his lip. The slight carbonation of the alcohol, and the burn of the alcohol itself singed the back of his throat before he shook his head and shut his eyes tightly. “I do have leverage as I told you about. I fear if she backs out, I would never be able to put her through that, though.”

“It was my understanding that you didn’t care and you do not like her. If that is the case, then what is the issue, Prince?” Niall questioned.

“I do not care about her and I do not like her, but what would it say about me if I grasped that leverage and exposed her so openly like that…” Harry’s voice trailed off as he brought the glass back to his lips once more.

“So you do not care about her, and you do not like her, but you care about what others would think if you humiliated her so publicly?” Niall was beginning to understand.

“Exactly,” Harry agreed.

Niall didn’t like giving Harry advice like this, but he was loyal to Harry first and always. When he began fitting the puzzle pieces together of the dynamic between Harry and Y/N, before he could even process his own thought process he blurted, “If you think she is too stubborn, then change that. Have you thought that maybe the reason she is so stubborn around you is because of the fact you are so mean to her. Stop being so cruel. Be a gentleman, make her like you. Hell, make her even love you, and at the end of the summer, if you still do not believe you are the type of man to marry, then begin corresponding with the Duchess again, forcing Y/N to break it off with you. You told her it was all a ruse, then so be it. However, that does not mean you have to make her life a living hell. You can charm her, make her fall for you, and when you invite the Duchess to the ball at the end of the summer, Y/N will have no other choice than to call it off.”

Harry paused, sitting upright in the chair rather than slouching over, “So you are saying to charm her still, even though she’s already agreed to the facade with me?”

“Precisely,” Niall pushed the guilty feeling down.

“And at the end of the summer when I want her to call it off, let her find me entangled with Duchess Violet?” Harry was the one asking questions now.

“Yes,” Niall let out a small breath.

“Smart man,” was all Harry said, and that was the end of the conversation as Harry slipped his boots on, bolted out the door, mounted his horse, and rode back to the main palace so he could talk to Y/N.

______________

Y/N was still in the garden, ruminating over the argument she just had with Harry. How could someone be so handsome, resembling a person who was probably carved by the most delicate angels themselves, have such a crude mouth and an evil demeanor? If Harry was a little bit nicer, she thinks he would be the easiest person to fall in love with.

“Y/N?” Harry whispered, and when she turned around to look at him, he noted the way the light from the moon reflected off the top of his curly brown hair, where it hit the highs of his cheekbones, and she noted the delicacy in his sea moss green eyes.

“I’m too exhausted to argue, Prince.” She remained grounded, her feet planted into the soil. Her cheeks were still wet from the tears spilled over after Harry left her feeling silly, and even though the streaks remained on her cheeks, there were no more droplets forming in her eyes.

He stepped closer, so close that his body was almost pressed against the front of hers. She noted the way his hand lingered by her hip, wanting badly to close the gap between them by positioning his hand behind her and pulling her close. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” She was strong, she was going to be tough.

“I feel terrible, Y/N,” the sincerity in his eyes was enough to send a ripple of shock through her. Honestly, the sincerity he felt was enough to send a ripple of shock through him. It was true, he did feel terrible. He never meant to make her cry.

“It’s fine,” Y/N said, beginning to turn away from him, but he caught her with his hand around her hip, then closed the gap between them so there was no space between the pair.

“It’s not,” he disagreed, “I… I want to be your friend, Y/N.”

“My friend?” She was so fucking confused.

“Yes,” he nodded his head, creeping his free hand under her chin and forcing her to look up and directly at him. “I do not want to be the only person benefiting from this deception.”

“Okay,” she didn’t know what else to say.

“Let me teach you how to feel comfortable on a horse again. I can give you lessons.” He decided showing her how to be confident atop a horse would be something she would benefit from. She wouldn’t have to feel confined to the palace anymore or lie to the people around her.

“So you can belittle me in our lessons?” Y/N asked, raising a brow at him.

“No, Y/N. No more of that, I can assure you.” He sounded so sincere, he was convincing himself. Maybe the truth was that arguing with her, getting under her skin, and picking her apart was exhausting and he didn’t like feeling like the worst version of himself around her. He was so confused. So confused. He hated this perfect princess exterior she put on, but he disliked being an asshole more.

“You really want to help me?” She could hardly believe it.

“Yes,” he dropped his hand from her chin and her hip, taking a step away from her, “Tomorrow morning, meet me at the stables.”

With that, he turned away and found his way back to his bedchambers. Harry really needed to decompress.

______________

The next morning, Harry found her in the stables. She had gotten there before him and was waiting by Freya’s stall. Brad wasn’t there quite yet. It was so early, the sun was just starting to poke through the horizon. 

Colors of red, pink, and gold reflected from his skin as he approached her, and Y/N noted that the colors peaking from the horizon were almost as beautiful as him. While the sun rise was beautiful, it was not nearly as beautiful as him.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, walking up to where she leaned against Freya’s stall.

“I’m ready,” she explained.

They had spent hours talking about how to form a bond with a horse, how to treat a horse, and where not to stand when around a horse. They talked about how to saddle a horse up, how to put the bit in a horse’s mouth without injuring yourself or the animal you need to be taking care of. Harry was actually a very good teacher. He wasn’t pushing her out of her comfort zone, he wasn’t belittling her for the things she was taught when she was younger but forgot how to maneuver. Harry even brought up what Brad had said about her having panic attacks when she was too close to horses, and told her that if she was feeling anxious to let him know, they could find a spot where she felt safe. Overall, working with him wasn’t too bad.

Y/N tried not to talk about the incident that made her so fearful of horses to begin with, and as much as Harry wanted to know why she was so afraid of them, he didn’t want to push and pry. He knew what it was like when people pushed their way into your personal space, and it was his biggest pet peeve, so he wasn’t going to subject her to something he hated deep in his bones.

Brad was surprised the first day when he came in, and saw Y/N, with shaky hands, petting on Freya. Freya seemed to enjoy it, and Harry stabilized her shaky arm as she reached in the window of the stall and pet her, whispering small encouragements in her ear. He was standing directly behind her, the front of his body pressed to her back as she reached in.

“Good girl,” Harry said, his fingers clutched around her elbow to combat the shakiness in her arm.

“She is a rather good girl,” Y/N said, touching the softness on Freya’s nose.

“No,” Harry laughed out, his fingers still gently holding her elbow steady, “I was talking about you. You’re being a very good girl.”

Y/N felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but chose to say nothing, and much to her good luck, Brad had finally showed up for the day, amazed at how Harry stood there with Y/N and held her from behind as she touched Freya.

“Wow,” Brad said, dropping some of the grain he was holding into the stall next to Freya’s, “You’re doing very well, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t think she could handle all the compliments, so she redirected the attention to Harry, “It’s all him. He's a great teacher.”

“I bet he is,” Brad shot a look toward Harry, a smirk forming on the edges of both their mouths. It made Y/N wonder if they actually had some sort of relationship like Harry hinted at the night he told her he was going to bed Brad in order to spite her. “I just hope you don’t have nightmares tonight.”

“Nightmares?” Harry’s grip around her elbow tightened, pulling her arm out of Freya’s stall and letting Y/N’s arm fall to her side. “What does he mean?”

Y/N turned around, and threw a scowl in Brad’s direction. Her back pressed against the stall door as she let a sheepish smile appear on her face when she turned all her attention toward Harry. “I used to have nightmares about the incident.”

Harry’s lips pressed into a hardline, a serious look glossed in his eyes. “If you start having nightmares again, tell me. Please.”

“I will.”

______________

Y/N didn’t know what to do about the dreams she was having regarding Harry. It seemed that every single night her dreams of Harry were becoming more and more graphic. The first night she dreamt of him was the first night he was in the palace, and she dreamt of what his lips felt like on hers. 

The second time she dreamt of him, she dreamt of the ways his hands felt around her body, and ever since then she had been having that same dream of him, over and over again. He would start by kissing her neck and touching her all over, calling her sweet names, and making her cry out in pleasure.

Every morning she woke up feeling debauched, and when she would meet Harry at the stables in the morning, she tried her best to not let the emotion flood her face. Sometimes she was scared that he could just look at her and know she was having inappropriate dreams about him.

A week had passed of her spending time with Harry. She learned about his favorite food, what he loved about his own kingdom, and even found out that the Marigold flower was native to his kingdom. 

“You kind of remind me of a Marigold.” Harry said softly.

“Why is that?” She looked over at him, as he began putting the bit on Freya. Y/N wasn’t ready to ride yet, but today she was going to walk Freya along the property with Harry to get used to her holding the lead rope in her hand.

“They’re bright and beautiful,” Harry buckled the bit, pulling the lead rope through as he spoke to Y/N, “A lot like you.”

“I think we’ve come a long way,” Y/N noted, grabbing the lead rope with shaky fingers when Harry handed it to her.

When Harry realized that her fingers were shaking and her eyes were nervously glancing around, he grabbed the lead rope back from her and began walking Freya out of the barn and toward a trail nearby, “I’ll walk her for now. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

They walked together, talking about the most random things and getting to know each other. Y/N couldn’t believe she didn’t like Harry at first. Fine, he was slightly annoying, and when she thought about how she was technically still being blackmailed it made her a little furious, but when he was being so pleasant and lovely, she tried not to think of those things. 

On top of all that, how could she say she still disliked him when she was dreaming of him every single night?

“Why don’t you try holding the lead rope as we walk, and I’ll hold your hand over it?” He suggested, coming to a stop in the middle of the trail. As much as he liked walking Freya, he did want Y/N to make some progress. 

“I think I can do that,” Y/N agreed, grabbing the rope in her hand and locking it securely between her fingers. Her hand wasn’t on the rope for even two seconds before Harry threw his hand around hers and gave her a look that she knew said I’m here for you. 

Her heart nearly skipped a beat as his hand enveloped hers and his eyes brought comfort to her hammering heart. For a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined how his lips would taste— probably sickeningly sweet. She thought of the way he might moan against her, like he did in her dream. The vibrations flooding through her, feeling like pure ecstasy.

What the hell was she doing?

______________

Y/N thought back to the first night Harry had been to the palace. That night, she had a dream of Harry pressing his lips against hers. The more time she spent with Harry, the more she dreamt about him at night, and as the days passed, the more graphic they got. 

Today wasn’t the first time she had woken up with a puddle between her legs due to a steamy dream she had about Harry, though, it was the first time she had reached her climax in her sleep and she couldn’t help the shame that picked away inside her.

Quickly, she cleaned herself off and began putting on her riding clothes to meet Harry in the stables. 

______________

This morning, Y/N could barely look Harry in the eye, and he wondered why that was. They had been working together for a little over two weeks now, and she was growing much more comfortable with him each day. Actually, it was rather frustrating for him to find out that he somewhat enjoyed spending time with her. She was kind of funny, a little sweet, and overall, easy to teach. 

“Will you tell me why you can’t look at me today?” Harry grinned at her, and noted the way she dropped her gaze from his eyes back down to her hands, an emotion he couldn’t quite place lingering on her features. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled out, still refusing to meet his eyes. This might actually drive him crazy.

“Tell me, darling,” Harry reached for the water that was sitting atop Freya’s stall door, and began taking a few sips, his eyes still locked on Y/N, waiting for her to explain. Sooner or later, she would tell him. She was quite bad at keeping secrets.

“Did you actually take Brad to bed?” Y/N still didn’t look up at him.

Harry choked on his water; that was the last thing he expected Y/N to say to him. “Why do you think that?”

“You told me you were going to take him to bed the night you told me you wanted to be my friend,” Y/N recalled.

“I did say that,” Harry hummed out, placing the water back atop the door of the horse stall before moving toward her, “No, I did not take him to bed.”

“Do you want to… You know? Do you like him in that way?” Y/N was trying to avoid certain words, too shy to actually say what she was thinking, and the shyness in her tone was enough to make Harry’s knees almost buckle.

“I think he’s handsome, Y/N, but I would not hurt your feelings like that,” Harry explained, shrugging his shoulders.

“So you only like him, then? That is why you would not marry the Duchess?” Y/N had so many questions rifling through her mind, she didn’t know where to begin.

Realization dawned on Harry’s face, “I have a preference for both, Y/N. I do find men attractive, but I find women attractive too.”

“Oh okay,” Y/N nodded her head, “I’m sorry I was just thinking of that night and how maybe you and Brad—”

“That’s so naughty, Y/N.” He took a couple steps toward her, reminding her of the night he told her he would teach her how to ride. There was only a small gap between them, the front of his chest pressed to the front of her chest, but this time, there was a wooden wall behind her and if he only took one more small step, she would be pressed against the wooden wall in the barn and the front of Harry’s bodice. She was so depraved.

Harry’s voice was full of teasing, but Y/N was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she thought he was chastising her, “I’m sorry, Harry! Not like that!”

“Darling, I’m only teasing you,” Harry’s grin was contagious, Y/N couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her lips, “Now won’t you tell me a secret? I’ve given you one of mine.”

Y/N didn’t even think about it before blurting out, “I wish I knew what it was like to be kissed.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his hand pressed against the wooden wall, trapping Y/N between his body and the wall (still offering her a way out from the position on his left). All he needed to do was bend down and connect his lips to hers and she would know what it’s like, but he would never do it without asking first. “Would you like me to teach you?”

“I would like that,” she breathed.

So, he would give her what she wanted. In the matter of seconds, his knee was positioned in between her legs, almost touching her center. His head had swooped down so his lips were just a few centimeters from her own, and his eyes were full of peer lust. Without much thought, he pressed his lips against her gentle ones, sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, begging for her to open up for him and let him in. Though, Y/N didn’t understand the cue, and Harry understood that since this is her first time being kissed, she wouldn’t know the trick of sliding your tongue against someone’s bottom lip and what that was asking for.

Gently, he brought his lips to her chin and pulled down ever so slightly, parting her lips and allowing access to her mouth. It was the most pleasant noise he had ever heard, the moan that vibrated into his mouth and warmed his muscles. The blood was flowing to his cheeks, his heart rate quickening and pumping the blood through his body, and straight to his cock. Honestly, if they didn’t stop kissing, he might actually come in his pants, so he pulled away, leaving her breathless and hot.

“How was that?” He asked.

“I think I liked it a lot,” she panted out, pressing her legs together and Harry knew the signs of that all too well, but decided not to comment on it.

“We can do it again sometime.” He shrugged, removing his hand from the wall and taking a few steps back.

“O-okay.” She muttered.

Y/N was feeling things she had never known were possible.

______________

Harry’s lips were pressed against her neck, his hands wandering to the waistband of her underwear before looping his fingers around the elastic and pulling them down her legs. Before she even had time to process what was going on, he was gently laying her against the bed, but they weren’t in her room… No, she didn’t know where they were, and for a moment she was dissecting the bedchamber and all its decor until Harry’s thumb found its way to her clit and one of his fingers sunk into her, rubbing against the button that had her back arching off of the bed.

“Oh,” she gasped out, her breathing becoming erratic with each stroke. “Please, Harry. Please…”

In this scenario, she didn’t feel ashamed for calling out his name, for begging for his fingers. Harry had positioned himself so that he was on top of her, one hand holding him up so that he good get a good look at her face (in this scenario, he liked to watch the way her nose scrunched when she hit her climax) while his hand worked her clit and flicked against her g-spot. 

“Don’t worry, darling girl,” he leaned down, his lips pressed against her lips as he spoke, “I’m going to get you there.”

She couldn’t help it, she needed him so badly. When he pulled his fingers out and inserted another, expanding the space inside her, she arched her back off the bed and bucked her hips into his hand begging for more friction than he was supplying her with.

“Don’t be greedy, love.” He found a different position so he could use one hand to pin her hips to the bed, and the other one to tease her with his fingers. “You need help orgasming, darling?”

“Harry, I need help!”

“Y/N!” Harry shook her shoulders, causing her whole body to shake as her eyes opened to reveal a panicked Harry peering down at her.

It took a moment for her to understand what was going on, but when she looked at her surroundings which were dimly lit by candles, Y/N realized that she was in her bedchamber, and no longer in the bedchamber in her dream, and Harry had pulled the chair sitting in the corner of her room to the side of her bed.

A dream. It was just another dream. And it took a moment before she realized that Harry was here, waking her from her dream frantically.

“Harry,” she breathed out, and though he heard the breathiness in her tone as a sigh of relief, for Y/N she was coming down from the orgasm she just had in her sleep. In front of Harry. “What are you doing here?”

“Baby, you were having a nightmare. You’ve been screaming my name,” he tucked a strand of hair that was coated in sweat behind her ear, and she noted the softness in his voice, a guilty feeling ripping through her.

Actually, his voice wasn’t the only thing soft about him. Harry was still sporting sleepwear, white linen pajama pants and a matching button top. His curls which were normally assorted and crisp looking flopped against his forehead, and she couldn’t help but notice the way he stroked his thumb against her head whispering sweet nicknames he had never called her before, but what she really couldn’t stand was the guilt and worry flooding those cloverfield eyes of his.

“I—” she went to explain that she wasn’t having a nightmare, but before she had a chance to get the words out, he was telling her what happened.

“They came and got me. Dorothea told me this is the fifth consecutive night you’ve been screaming my name, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me the lessons weren’t working, and they were putting you in such a bad place. I didn’t want this for you, baby,” Harry continued to stroke his thumb against her head, this time lowering his hand so that his thumb was stroking along her lips which wasn’t helping the sticky wetness pooling in her panties and the ache in her lower belly.

Y/N, filled with shame at the guilt in his eyes and the crude dreams she’s been having, tried to find her voice, “Wasn’t having a nightmare.”

“What do you mean, darling? You were screaming my name, asking for help?” 

In response, Y/N only pulled the edge of her blanket closer to her chest, tucking herself away from him.

It took Harry only two seconds to understand, “Oh?”

“Sorry,” she muttered, dropping her head and inching away from the touch of his fingers.

“No!” He exclaimed, hooking his fingers around her arm as she tried to scoot to the other side of the bed, “Don’t be sorry. There is no need for that, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond, so she nodded and expected him to get up and leave her to her own devices.

Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I just didn’t take you for a beggar, darling girl.”

It could have been the nickname, the same one dream Harry had given her as he brought her to her climax or the fact that he was calling her a beggar but she couldn’t help the heat that flooded through her cheeks as she averted her gaze from his, “Stop!”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, and Y/N noted the way his fingers that were once tracing circled over her cheeks and then rubbing against her lips were now touching and grasping at her arm, like he had to be in constant contact with her. “You should never be embarrassed of what your body naturally desires.”

“Easy for you to say,” she scooted closer to him, back to where she was before she began inching away, “You’ve never been embarrassed.”

“I have. The first time I ever let someone touch me, I reached my orgasm in my trousers,” he began, offering her a questioning glance to ask if this is okay? When she nodded, letting him know he could climb into her bed, probably against her better judgment, he stood from the chair and put his knee on the bed. Before she knew it, he was putting his knee over her, straddling her momentarily, then found his way to the other side of her bed, so that they were laying side-by-side. Y/N couldn’t help the way heat filled her cheeks, tearing at the tiny tendrils of muscle throughout her body and igniting a fire from deep within her abdomen. How could she think straight when she was dripping with need, her body begging for some sort of release. 

Harry continued what he was saying once he was in a comfortable position next to her, but Y/N had trouble listening to his words when the only thing she could focus on was regulating her breaths, “That was pretty embarrassing. The second time I was embarrassed was the first time I met you, and you were standing there looking so beautiful and perfect, I tripped over my words. The third time I felt embarrassed was when I read your letter in the office and you expressed that my actions were not that of a gentleman, and you were right.”

She didn’t know what to say, only that she was burning with desire and needed him as close to her as possible. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“You’ve got me all soft tonight. I was under the impression you were having nightmares because you were too nervous to tell me you didn’t want to continue with lessons. I am cruel, Y/N, you have always been right about that, but I am not a monster,” his words were honest and true, something he would probably regret tomorrow, “Believe it or not, I never wanted to give you nightmares.”

“You haven’t given me nightmares,” Y/N was used to feeling shame around Harry, even though she could cover it quickly by hurling a snarky comment toward him.

“You have no idea how relieved I was to hear that your dreams about me are nothing but good… I would like to rectify the situation for you.”

“Rectify the situation?” Y/N was beginning to feel even more confused than when she woke up in her bedchamber with Harry’s fingers wrapped around her shoulder, waking her from her vivid dream.

“Yes,” he breathed, turning his body so he was laying directly parallel to her, “Would you like me to take care of you?”

“I… I would like that,” her fingers held the quilt tighter to her chest, not quite sure if this was going to be a mean joke to toy with her and then laugh about it later.

“Do you trust me?” His eyebrow raised, knowing her answer without her even needing to speak the words.

“Not… particularly,” her breathing was becoming more rapid as the conversation took such a sultry turn.

“If you don’t trust me, I can’t make you feel good, darling.” He tried to reason with her, and as much as he wanted to run his hands over her sides and touch her all over, he knew he couldn’t do that. Not while he was trying to gain her trust.

“I’ve never done this before,” she said quietly, barely audible.

“I know,” he agreed, “We are going to take it slow. You are safe with me.”

And Y/N didn’t know if it was the look in eyes, or if it was because of the fact he rushed to her bedchamber when someone woke him up from his peaceful slumber to come comfort her from her “bad dream,” but in this moment, she really felt as though she could trust him. On top of that, he knew her biggest fear, and never let her feel uncomfortable when he was teaching her how to ride, so why shouldn’t she trust him?

“I feel safe,” she told him and expressed her limits, “I trust you. No mean words, Harry.”

“No, baby, only praise for how well you’re doing.” 

Those three little words, the innocence in her eyes, and the way she clung to her blanket for a security measure could have sent Harry into a downward spiral. He tried to compose himself, tried to contain himself, because he knew he had to take it slow with her. He propped himself up so that he could loop his hands around where she clutched her blanket so tightly. “Have to relax, darling.”

She took in a few deep breaths, just how he taught her when she was trying something new, and her body released the tension as she made eye contact with him. Something about Harry was so contradictory. How could he make her feel so guarded and upset, but also make her feel so safe in her most vulnerable moments. As her grip loosened from the blanket, he asked if it was okay for him to remove it, to expose her body only dressed in her white nightgown. When she murmured a small yes, he peeled the blanket from her body. Cool air encompassed her, and she hadn’t realized just how hot she’d been under the blanket.

Y/N used her elbows to prop herself up, leaning back against the pillows, giving herself a full view as she sat up right, and Harry took this moment to lean back, so his upper body was still parallel to hers, but he still had enough room to use his fingers to work her to the brink of her orgasm. Fortunately for her, he was reading the situation thoroughly, checking for the signs that she wasn’t ready and verbally communicating with her to make sure she was feeling okay.

“How are you feeling, love?” Small touches is what he started with, using the arm that he wasn’t propped up on to trace heart shapes (though, Y/N couldn’t tell what shape he was making) with his forefinger around the bare skin of her hip.

“Feeling good,” her words were breathy, making his cock twitch in his pants, “I’m ready for you.”

Harry let out a small chuckle, his eyes glancing between both of her eyes as he spoke, “We’re going to take it very slow. I’m gonna teach you about pleasure, darling, with my fingers. How does that sound?”

“With your fingers?” She hated how demure it sounded, how underprepared and unknowledgeable the words sounded coming from her.

“Yes. With my fingers first,” he trailed his fingers from her hip, to her lower abdomen until he was over the cotton of her panties, feeling the wetness seep through, “You’re so wet, it feels like you’ve already reached your pinnacle. Did you?”

Sheepishly, she nodded. Though she may not know what it felt like when she was awake, she knew the signs when she woke up from a dream about him. Typically, she was as wet as she is now, a sticky feeling between her legs. “In my sleep.”

“Christ,” he breathed, pulling her panties to the side, but not taking them completely off in an effort to make her not feel so exposed. First, he used his thumb to touch her clit, using small circular motions at a very steady pace. When her breathing picked up once more, and small guttural moans fell from her lips in encouragement for him, he picked up the pace. Harry couldn’t help it, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

Slowly, he lowered his head, pressing his lips against her own as he continued to rub in circular motions. Her back arched from the bed, his lips still on hers as he swallowed the noises she was making against him, and her mind was spinning with absolute desire. Pure bliss is what she felt, her flesh hot with each touch as he continued to work her most sensitive spot while his lips moved against hers. She didn’t know she could feel this… Good. In her dreams she was a sweaty, whiny, mess, but in this experience. In this very, very real experience, she couldn’t hold back the whines or the way her back kept arching into his touch. It was a complete parallel to the way she felt in her dreams, the way dream Harry took care of her and the way real Harry was taking care of her now was so similar.

____

Harry’s mind was a whirlwind of emotion; he loved the way he was making her come undone beneath his fingers. While his thumb worked her clit, he slipped his middle finger in, the cool gold of his rings making her gasp against his mouth, and he took this moment to slick his tongue over her bottom lip and find his way into her mouth. Her mouth was warm, tasting of sweet fruit and honey… She was everything he could ever desire, and he hated the way he crumpled beneath her. She made him feel so out of control, but in this very moment, he had all the power. For a second, he removed his lips, staring down at her with her eyes shut. Her ribcage flared with each breath, her chest heaved as small whimpers tumbled from her lips with his name somewhere in the mix.

As soon as he found that spot inside of her, the spot he knew could make a woman buckle at the knees, she was finding her release and rocking against her hand. Normally, he would tell his partner to stop riding his hand to control the situation, to make them so pent up with frustration and desire that they could barely stand it. He loved to see tears form in his partner's eyes due to overstimulation and pure desire, but this time around, he just wanted her to feel good and comfortable as she reached her climax. This was a vulnerable moment for her, and he didn’t want her to remember it by looking back and thinking about how he wouldn’t let her cum… No, she was being such a good girl for him, rocking against him with such a politeness as she whimpered small pleases and thank you’s that he didn’t want to reprimand her for feeling what she was feeling. In fact, he decided she needed a good reminder.

“You’re being such a good girl, Y/N. So good for me,” as soon as those words filled her ears, her walls began pulsing around his fingers and he knew she was about to reach the brink of the universe, so he continued to encourage her, “Let it out, baby.”

“T-thank you,” she said, clutching the sheets in her hands as her back arched from the bed, and she clenched once more around his fingers, drenching his hand, his wrist, and the end of his pajama sleeves. 

“So polite, darling,” Harry noted as her hips thrusted up once more, riding out her orgasm on his hand. Once she was completely fucked out against his hand, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she tried to maintain eye contact with him, and when Harry brough his hands coated in her arousal to his mouth and licked them clean, another wave of arousal shot down her spine.

“Is it your turn?” She asked him, barely able to keep her eyes open.

“Not tonight, darling,” his hands found their way to the quilt, covering her up with the blanket so she wouldn’t get cold after she fell asleep. Normally, he would clean his partner up before allowing them to get cozy in bed, but the thought of making her get out of bed and wash up felt too evil as she could barely keep her eyes open.

“When?” She muttered, eyes still closed, “I want to.”

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow, Y/N.” He lifted himself off the bed, and she mumbled a small okay as he walked out of the room.

Harry was so fucked.

[cherriestears]

why is no one talking about how Ma Meilleure Ennemie by Stromae and Pomme is so Gelphie coded?? not in terms of the Arcane plotline, obvs (idk enough about that to comment) but just the lyrics themselves??

like this verse, all of Stromae's verses is Glinda singing to Elphaba— "On the day we met, maybe I would rather that it never happened to me" She didn't expect to love Elphaba. She never expected anything to happen between the two of them at all and yet Elphie became the person she loved the most out of everyone, the one who changed her for good, and she would love to regret meeting her after all the pain loving her caused but she can't even regret the feeling of loving her??

"Stay close to your dearest friends but also even closer to your adversaries" IS LITERALLY THEM. THESE TWO, WHO PROBABLY HAD ONE OF THE SWEETEST, MOST LOVING FRIENDSHIPS/SITUATIONSHIPS IN THE WORLD WERE FORCED TO BECOME ENEMIES IN THE EYES OF THE PUBLIC BUT THEY STILL LOVED EACH OTHER DESPITE ALL OF IT??

"Is it hatred or pure sweetness when I hear your name" SWEETNESS. ELPHIE IS REMINDED OF HER SWEET WHENEVER SOMEONE MENTIONS GLINDA THE GOOD BUT EVEN THOUGH GLINDA CHOSE TO STICK WITH THE WIZARD AND NOT COME WITH HER, SHE WILL NEVER STOP LOVING HER, DESPITE THE RESENTMENT FOR NOT CHOOSING HER

AND FINALLY, THE PIÈCE DE RÉSISTANCE:

"I have told you, not to keep looking behind

Your past will follow you and wage war on you"

THIS. IS. BASICALLY. WHAT. GLINDA. WAS. GOING. THROUGH. ON. THE. NEWS. OF. ELPHABA'S. DEATH. HER PAST WITH HER CLOSEST FRIEND, HER WORST ENEMY, HER SORT OF LOVER CAME BACK TO HAUNT HER, CAME BACK TO TAUNT HER FOR NOT PICKING ELPHIE ALL THOSE YEARS AGO !! BURNING THAT ELPHIE-GY AND SEEING ALL THOSE FLASHBACKS OF HER SWEETEST MOMENTS WITH ELPHABA AS SHE MOURNS HER ALONE IN THE WORLD...

I'M GOING TO BE SICK.

[oh-katsuki]

🎉 NEW GAME: Introduce your mutuals to everyone and what do you think of them? 🎉

oooo this is fun!!! thank you for the ask!! okay so i cant do all of them so ill just do a few <33 im sorry if i miss u, i love u all the same and so so dearly.

@mikaaberry - a beloved friend. weird but in the best way possible. she sends pictures of herself from an absurdly high angle like at least three times a week and its incredible. genuinely so supportive, i love her so much.

@juniverses - SHE'S A GUARD DOG. i swear to god ... her clit is always twitching. but she also thirsts w me the most in the groupchat about semi-niche characters and i appreciate that. she's so incredibly wonderful.

@planetsano - bria has such an incredible vibe. like her humor is so fucking good and like... her general energy is amazing. she gives off the vibe of like spongebob humor and cindy from scary movie and it's the funniest thing. i really fucking love her.

@honeyzawa - bea is actually fucking unhinged and its my favorite thing about her. she feeds my enemies to lovers slowburn fantasy except for the fact that we're not enemies and we're also in love. the very first person i interacted regularly with on tumblr and my first tumblr mutual back when i used my art account <33

@drakenology - daisy just fucking gets it. she matches a vibe perfectly and always brings the right energy to the conversation. i have an enormous crush on her but like... don't tell her that. It's a secret.

@ratsqueaks - okay so i literally just started talking to annie regularly very recently but she's been a mutual i really like to see on my dash. always keeps it very spicy bc i never know if I'm gonna get bullied or told that i am adored and i think we all need that in our lives.

@miekasa - this bitch is up my ass FOR EVERYTHING!! AND I WOULDN'T HAVE IT ANY OTHER WAY!! she once called me insane and i had to pause and be like "is it that obvious" (it is). very beloved and so so skilled. i adore her.

@ringpop-poppy - my beloved. my sweetest. my fellow batshit crazy sister. me and poppy feed the WORST energy in ourselves and make it so hot and sexy. she's a rabid dog when it comes to thirsting and her clit is on DIAMOND mode at all hours of the day. i love her and i love her brain and I'm rly happy to be her friend.

@bakemonogatarii - G is such a sweet person. we went to see the mha movie together and it was such a blast. genuinely unhinged but who isn't on this platform. she wants to swallow beefy men whole and i respect that so deeply.

@izuukii - i love scout very very much. they're so supportive and always check up on me and make me feel so seen and heard. my jshk mutual and the person i go to to discuss the emotional anguish that the manga puts me through.

@sems-diarie - i don't talk to sem NEARLY as much as i want to but I'm putting her here because i adore her writing and her general energy. she's someone i absolutely love to see on the dash and her energy is so positive and welcoming that it's really hard not to love her.

that's all i can think of off the top of my head at the moment. i love u guys a lot and u make being here so fucking wonderful. my experience on this app is better because of you guys and i hope ur all having lovely days/nights <333

if i missed you, please know that i love u just as dearly and want to kiss u all the same <333

[madmadmilk]

#madreads | stuff i’ve been reading lately 👀

heyyo i’m just making a list of books i’ve been reading lately IRL. most are just swishy, feel-good, HEA romance stuff. I’ll update it periodically~ ✌🏼💛✨ enjoy, and feel free to recommend! 

“The Flat Share” by Beth O’Leary: sharing a flat with someone you’ve never met? Tiff needs a cheep & easy place to stay, and Leon works nights and needs the $$. Leon takes the bed in the day, Tiff at night.... they’re bound to meet sometime, right?

“The Hating Game” by Sally Thorne: easy-peasy office, enemies-to-lovers. Lucy and Josh share an office for 40 hours a week, PAs for a recently merged companies. constantly one-upping each other, and playing ‘games’ in vengeful silence with arbitrary, made-up rules–– but lucy will never let josh win. especially when there’s a promotion at stake. if she wins, she’ll be josh’s boss, and if she loses... she’ll resign. 

“Beach Read” by Emily Henry: Augustus is an acclaimed author of literary fiction, and january writes best selling romance. they’re opposites in every way.... right now the only thing they have in common is they’re neighbors and both struggling with writer’s block. they make a bet, augustus will write a bright happy romance while january tackles the “next Great American Novel.” of course they’ll take field trips of rom-com montage fame, and he’ll take her to interview backwoods death cult members (???) and absolutely no one will fall in love, lmao.

“Man Crush Monday” (and Stand-In Saturday) by Kristy Moseley. bruhh..... just read it. amy clark is a happy, peppy girl who works on the train... every monday her crush comes aboard, handsome and dorky. lool one day, they meet off the train, and love blossoms from there......

“The Billionaire’s Wake-Up-Call Girl” (and the entire series tbh) by Annika Martin: bruhh lol ya girl works at a company and tries to stay on her best behavior. so when she can’t find a “morning call service” to wake up her boss..... she takes it upon herself to make the call. so yeah, obviously she is the sweetest person ever at 4:30 AM–– oop. and soon enough, boss man is tearing down the city to find her.

“Come Back to Bed” by Kayley Loring: a grumpy lawyer dude moves in next door to an artist, and the only thing she can be sure of is that he’s hot hot hot and has the cutest lil dog ever. when they first meet, he recognizes her long-time and flailing crush on her artist boss..... sparks fly from there lmao

“Happy-Go-Lucky” by L.H. Cosway. Maisie works as a researching for a PI firm, and is nothing but kind to every one there. lol then at the christmas party, intimidating cameron grant shows up and out of the kindness of her heart, she sits by to talk to him. looool he tells her he despises everyone’s behavior at their workplace even her’s to a degree–- be deems her most tolerable. lol even jabbed, her lil office crush on him doesn’t waver. things become even more awkward when he takes her home.............

“Would Like to Meet” by Rachel Winters. evie has been a an assistant for 7 years, hanging on a thread for a promotion. too bad her job is in the hands of breakout-director ezra, for hollywood’s next rom com. lol but he’s suffering from writers block. in order not to lose her job, she collects data and stories from going on “meet-cute” dates and scenarios to “inspire” ezra lol and maybe find herself a real date along the way?

“The Unhoneymooners” by Christina Lauren. olive is ur typical unlucky gal–– constantly outdone by her perfect twin sister, who she still loves and adores. so ofc, on her sister’s wedding day she is paired with her worst enemy, ethan (who happens to be the best man). just 24 hours to get through, and things will be back to normal. lol too bad that everyone at the wedding gets food poisoning, leaving olive and ethan the only people unscathed. her sister refuses to let her honeymoon package go to waste so... she encourages olive and ethan to go... together. looool

And that’s all i can think of for right now!!! i haven’t been reading anything too serious, i just want these fluffy chick lit HEA romances to get me through the rest of the year.... like... just give me some serotonin pls. alright and lemme just say... getting a kindle (and kindle unlimited bleh) has changed my reading life.... it’s so much easier now lol 🥺💛✨

if you have any recommendations or notes to add, feel free to let us know! happy reading!!!!!!!!!!!!! ❣️

tagging: @rae-gar-targaryen​ and @ that one anon that asked hahaha

[lu-undy]

A lil sad request: spy gets hurt on the battlefield like really hurt and he’s rushed to medic bay afterwards. And sniper not allowed to see him so he gets really worried and starts venting to demo that he might not ever see him again and he that blaming himself for lu getting injured. Only to have Interrupted by spy in cast who is very disappointed that mundy thinks he could killed so easily-

Here we go, a worried lil’ Aussie bloke :) Hope you like it!

"They've been in there for hours, can't I see him? I just want to see him!" 

"Nyet." 

Heavy was standing in front of the door to Medic's lab. His German friend had instructed him not to let anyone in, especially not Sniper.

"Ugh, mate, please…"

"Nyet." 

Sniper sighed and his shoulders sank. Heavy stood like a wall between him and Medic's lab.

"Is there anything I can do for you to let me in?" 

Heavy shook his head.

"Wanker…" Sniper turned his back and went away. 

Spy had been quite severely injured right at the end of the round so respawn did not fix it. All Sniper knew about it was what he saw of the incident. Spy was escaping the enemy Soldier and wanted to jump to a lower level of the map. However, Soldier had shot a rocket, making Spy jump higher than he had anticipated and he landed unconscious right at Sniper's feet as the Administrator announced their victory. 

Well, what is a victory when Spy's body was unconscious and covered in blood in Sniper's arms? 

Nothing is what it was, nothing, and certainly not a victory. 

Sniper went back to the base. He thought that a bit of time with his colleagues might manage to distract him from his worries about his lover. He sat on the couch in the living-room next to Demo and Soldier who were watching some American football on TV. 

"Hey, lad, fancy a beer?" Demo handed him a bottle but Sniper shook his head. "Is it Spy?" Demo asked, seeing his friend's distraught blue eyes behind the aviator glasses. 

"Yeah…" 

"No! He missed it!" Soldier shouted at the screen and both Sniper and Demo got startled. 

"C'mere, lad. You need a good chat." Demo stood up and pulled Sniper to follow him. He dragged him outside and they sat on the edge of the van, at the back, on the small step there. "So, what's wrong?" 

"He's still with Medic and I'm… I'm worried, ok?" 

"Yeah, I can see that. But don't you worry, I'm sure the doc' will fix him!" 

"Yeah, well…"

Demo squinted at Sniper. 

"The doc' always fixes us, why d'you still worry?" 

"I don't know… When he crashed next to me, I - it was terrible. His face was pale, more pale than usual but he was covered in blood and worst of all, he was completely unconscious. But what scares me now is that the doc' never spends that long with anyone, even when we break our bones… I can't help thinkin' something seriously bad has happened." 

Demo put a hand on Sniper's shoulder but the Aussie kept his head lowered, staring at his boots and the orange, dusty ground of the desert.

"Have you tried to ask Medic?" Demo asked. 

"I tried, but Heavy's at the door and he won't let me in…"

"Ah, yeah, well… D'you want me to go and ask? Maybe he'll let me go in?" 

Sniper's face brightened. 

"Y-yeah, please, ask him how Spy's doing and uh, how much longer before I see him, and ask him if-"

"Wow, wow, lad, calm down, eh?" Demo chuckled. "I'll do it all. Now, you stay here and," Demo stood up. "Ye don't move, alright?" 

Sniper nodded excitedly and he rested his chin on his palms, waiting for Demo to come back. The poor Aussie couldn't help taking a look at his watch every so often. He was naturally patient, but Spy had changed him a bit in that regard. 

Well, Spy had changed him a lot. First, he loved him back, and that was the biggest change in Sniper's life for a few decades at least. He wasn't one to go around wooing ladies or gents. He didn't like the whole process of dating. Having ideas where to take the person, getting ready for it, preparing everything and half of the time, ending up being stood up. Nah… He didn't like it. The way Sniper usually did it was in pubs. After a couple of drinks, no one is shy anymore and sheilas are easier to get and less picky. He'd play the solitary hunter who lives in a van and boom, as easy as a headshot, he'd find himself someone to spend the night with.

But that was about it. The next morning, they would be gone and wouldn't want more of him. Hell, to be honest, neither did he. How could you want more from someone that you just know the body of? 

Spy had broken that habit - or that curse. Sniper couldn't exactly recall how it happened but they got to know each other and spend more and more time with each other without it feeling like dates per se. They would show up in their Mann Co. uniforms and decide what to do on the spur of the moment. Spy showed him a few good movies, not always the kind that Sniper had expected him to like. He would reciprocate by showing him the stars at night and commenting at length on the godly night blanket under which Sniper slept. 

Not anymore, eh. They had started sleeping together and as curious as it had seemed for both of them, they had started by just sleeping. Sniper found it odd that Spy wouldn't be more forward but on his side of things, Spy just wanted that: some company. Sniper eventually understood it and they spent the sweetest nights with the most pleasant of dreams. They were living the dream, sleeping in each other's arms, one spooning the other, or one using the other's shoulder as a pillow, their limbs entangled. And they would wake up to hums, kisses and happy moans.

Sniper sighed and he grinned without realising it. He was in love with the Frenchman in a way that was so different, so pure, that it almost seemed childish. 

Of course, they had their needs and as such, they would indulge each other when they weren't too tired. Sniper had learnt a lot throughout the torrid nights with Spy. He had learnt about it as a general concept but also about himself. Spy showed him a lot without maybe knowing it. But now Sniper knew. He was lovable, his scars, bites and claw marks weren't a problem, his lack of Australia-shaped chest hair wasn't an issue at all and none of it made him less of a man. No, as it turned out, Spy showed extensively how much he loved them all, how he treasured every bit of his lover's body. And in his turn, Sniper had reciprocated.

"Sniper?" 

Demo's voice broke Sniper's daydreaming. 

"So, you saw him?" 

"Nah, Heavy didn't let me in but he went to ask and Medic said you could go and see for yerself."

"Oh, I'll go then, thanks, mate." 

"No problem, lad."

Sniper almost ran to Medic's quarters. Heavy had disappeared from the front door. He gave a knock and Medic answered. 

"Yes, Sniper, come in." 

"Hey, uh, can I see him?" 

Medic nodded. 

"Yes, you may. But-"

Sniper didn't wait for the end of the sentence and opened the door to the room Spy was in. 

"Spook?" 

Distress flashed across Sniper's face as he realised that the room was empty. 

"Where is he?" He entered. 

"Right behind you." The suave voice with the French accent answered and when Sniper turned and saw him, he threw himself at the injured man, squeezing him in a tight hug. 

"Oh my God, you got me worried so much!" 

"B-Bushman! Too strong, too strong!"

"Ah, sorry…" Sniper relaxed his hug and took a second to take in the view of Spy in his suit and - oh, a cast on his leg?

"I have to keep it for a few days." Spy said, seeing that Sniper had noticed. "But I have to go and see Medic everyday for it until I remove it." 

"Oh, ok… Does it still hurt?" 

"A bit, but much less than a few hours ago." 

"Gosh, I missed you so much, love…" 

Spy softened and let go of the crutches he was holding. They fell on the floor. He cupped Sniper's face with a tender smile. 

"I can see that on your face. But did you really think something that bad had happened?"

"Yeah, I mean, you were there for hours…"

"Because I argued with Medic."

"What?" 

"Can we sit down please? Resting on one leg is quite painful."

"S-sure." 

They took a seat on the chairs in the room. 

"Oui, I argued with him because he wanted me to stay here day and night."

"Why didn't you accept? If he thinks it's best for you then do it."

"And be nailed to this room without you for days? Non, I refused. And it took us a bit of quarrelling before we agreed on this solution." Spy pointed at the cast. 

"Oh… I see."

"Demoman came and told me you were worried to the bone." 

"Y-yeah, a bit." Sniper blushed and averted his gaze. Spy bent forward and took his lover's hand. 

"Do you think me that weak? After all we have been through already in this God forsaken company?"

"N-no, nah, I mean…"

Medic opened the door and interrupted them. 

"Now that the princess is rescued from her castle, do you mind leaving so that I can disinfect the place? Or maybe you changed your mind Spy, and you want to stay after all?" He taunted. 

"My leg is in a cast, but my hands are not and I can still use a knife or a gun, Medic." Spy stood up and caught the crutches that Medic threw at him. He walked to the man in the labcoat. "If I were you, I would watch my tongue." He added threateningly.

"Uh, thanks doc'." Sniper said to ease the atmosphere. 

"My absolute pleasure and delight…" Medic sarcastically added. "Always a pleasure to tend to a rotten spoilt child's wounds…" 

Spy turned and was about to answer but Sniper dragged him out and in a few minutes, they were back in Spy's smoking-room. 

"D'you want something? You hungry? Maybe a glass of water?" 

Spy smiled. 

"I may be injured but I am not crippled yet, so if I need anything, I am still capable of fetching it myself." 

Sniper blushed. 

"Sorry, I didn't want to offend you…"

"You didn't. Come next to me, please." 

They sat side by side on the sofa. 

"Please put the show that you like on TV."

"You want to watch it?" Sniper grabbed the remote and turned the TV screen on. 

"Oui." Spy leaned his head on Sniper's shoulder and threw away his gloves and his balaclava. 

"Thought you hated it." 

"Not more than being away from you for hours." Spy's hand found Sniper's and he held it dearly. "I… I missed you too, Sniper."

Sniper's blush went to his ears and he looked down at Spy. He looked gorgeous… The Aussie wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. 

"Love you, Spook."

"So do I." 

Sniper's eyes were back on the screen when he felt a peck land shyly on his cheek before Spy's head settled on his shoulder.

[starfleetimagines]

Enemies To Lovers With Malcolm Reed Would Include...

Requested by an anon: “Enemies to lovers for mal?” Word count: Just over 1k Warnings/Notes: Just a lot of fluff Tag list: @jaytodded, @wallows-spring

You wouldn’t necessarily be enemies per se, but Malcolm would feel threatened by your talents. He’s not the greatest at making friends to begin with, but when he feels inadequate it’s even worse. Whether you were in security or not, Malcolm would still feel like his skills are marginal compared to yours. He’d be jealous of how good you were with others and how quick you were to come up with solutions to a variety of problems.

Because of his jealous feelings, he would sometimes act cold towards you. He’s never one to admit when he’s wrong so if you ever came up with a protocol or idea that differed from his, he’d get pretty defensive.

You wouldn’t understand why he was often giving you the cold shoulder, but you did your best to be nice to him. Though after dealing with his pettiness for some time, you’d make snarky remarks in return to show him that you weren’t going to accept his attitude.

The two of you would have to work together often. You’d butt heads and argue about what way to go about the tasks at hand. After a few months of working together on various tasks, you’d find a way to compromise and figure things out without getting into a heated argument.

You’d begin to work on solutions to problems together during your off-hours, eating together in the mess-hall as you discussed how to improve the efficiency of this or that, or getting together at one of your quarters to bounce ideas off of each other.

One day Trip would join you two for lunch and after not witnessing any disagreements or spats between you and Malcolm, Trip would grow concerned and ask, “Did I enter an alternate reality or somethin’ Shouldn’t you two be at each other’s throats?

You and Malcolm would just laugh and shrug, not really knowing when the exact moment was when you two started to become friends, but being grateful for it nonetheless.

Malcolm would grow protective over you as you two got closer. He’d make sure to stay by your side on away missions and would insist on you checking in with Enterprise in regular intervals when he wasn’t on the mission with you. He would even offer to talk to anyone who made you upset and would threaten aliens who disrespected you or wished to cause you harm.

You would slowly get Malcolm to open up to you. You’d start asking him personal questions about himself when you two were together. At first, he’d be a bit wary and only give you short answers or would change the subject. But soon he would learn to trust you and feel comfortable enough around you to tell you about himself in a way that not many people knew.

Malcolm would realize he was in love with you when you got critically injured on an away mission or during an attack. He would be worried sick, thinking of the worst possible scenario as you were rushed to sickbay. He would have visited you as soon as he could, and while he waited for that chance his mind would be filled with thoughts of you. When he finally was able to see you, he’d be so relieved that you were okay that he’d tear up. He would check with Phlox several times that you were going to make a full recovery and even then he was still filled with worry.

You’d hold his hand and tell him you were going to be fine, but he would be so worked up and so anxious that he’d not want to leave your side. He’d sit on the edge of your bed and you held his hand tight to reassure him that you were going to be okay.

“I was so afraid I’d lost you,” he’d mumble, voice shaky.

“You won’t lose me, Mal. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Y/N, when I thought I’d lost you, I… I felt like everything was crumbling in around me. I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I’ve never felt as close to someone as I feel with you. I need you in my life. And I think… I think I’m in love with you.”

“Oh, Mal. I’m in love with you, too.”

Your relationship would take off from there. Since Malcolm already felt so close to you, he’d jump right into the caring and affection boyfriend role. He’d check in on you during your shift, bring you snacks and coffee or tea during a long day, make sure you were safe and healthy, and would be so gentle and caring to you when you were having a bad day. He’d hold you and let you cry it out or just sit with you and listen as you vented or gave you sound advice. He’d do whatever you needed him to do in order for you to feel better.

PDA would be minimal because Malcolm is quite shy around others, and he wouldn’t find it appropriate to show off your relationship in that manner. You wouldn’t mind, though. It just meant that when PDA did occur, it was that much more special and meaningful to the both of you.

You would know exactly how to make him relax and feel better when he was stressed or having a bad day. You’d lie with him in bed, you on your back and him on his side with his head on your chest. He’d love to just be held by you, listening to your heartbeat as he held your hand loosely. You’d run your fingers through his hair and tell him stories, true or made-up.

Malcolm would tell you time and time again that he had never felt so happy and so in love, and that he had never let himself be so vulnerable and open with someone before. He would also tell you how grateful he was to have you in his life and that he didn’t want to ever be apart from you because you grounded him.

You would tell him how safe and loved you felt with him. How you felt so appreciated and cared for and that he was the sweetest partner you’d ever had. He was always so loving with you; so gentle around you. He’d do everything he could to make sure you were okay both mentally and physically.

You were his anchor and he was your protector.

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi

[textalotter]

What are your thoughts on Scorpio Mars and Virgo Venus?

Hyper-critical of potential partners, the native enters a partnership that revolves around servitude and practicality, superbly sexual and pursues intimacy via sex with partners, has the potential to switch multiple sexual partners often, but the Virgo Venus calms this down.

What does a Scorpio Mars imply when a guy is trying to show interest and how does that come into play?

They’re the subtle hinters, they’ll make a lot of kind of romantic/sexual suggestions but if you ask they’ll deny. They won’t say anything they’re not ready to say and has a very intense energy to them.

What would Virgo Venus sextile Scorpio Mars entail?

A person that knows what they want from their partner, feels safe in their skin and with what they want, closed off and loyal to the people they love, could move others to come back to their own values and to be healthily selective, when truly emotional investigated gives their all and goes out of their way for their partner.

Can you tell me the compability between Aries Mars (f) and Scorpio Mars (m)?

So this is most likely chaos. I say this with love and in all seriousness... be very careful. Both of these signs are guided by mars meaning they are at home here or very set in their ways. These two lovers fall for each other very differently and need to have good communication to make this work! Aries is quick to jump into this whole relationship while Scorpio will move slower, yet the roles will reverse as this relationship becomes more intense. Scorpio will never fully open themselves up under mars but if other placements align they may. Scorpio also loves intensely when they do finally commit and this can be frightening for Aries when it comes to committing. Aries is quick to run from a relationship if Scorpio’s feelings become too intense. Aries must evaluate carefully if this relationship is something that they see for the long haul before making a choice. Because this is so intense and both signs are fighters in such different ways, they can deeply scar each other through acts of revenge and scorn. Aries can have a temper that is sudden and explosive while Scorpio will seek to emotionally hurt their partner. Likewise Scorpio will take time to warm up to Aries. They may move much slower than Aries is used to. But if Aries is patient and decides to be invested, they may find that the Scorpio man may provide nurturing and love they desire deeply while still being independent. Although Scorpio can be manipulative of Aries feelings here while letting them be independent in some ways. They tend to want to be in control of their relationships and how they are viewed and Aries is susceptible to ideas Scorpio can warp and transpires. If Aries lets this happen they may feel trapped by their partner. Scorpio may also tire of Aries impulsiveness and passive attitude. When Scorpio begins to feel trapped or hurt they will lash out negatively. 

Sexually this pairing is perfect for each other! As both reside in mars they are equally “freaky” for each other and find similar aspirations sexually. This may be the initial connection between the pair because both respond well to good sex and find a connection in it. This is also a form of communication between the two. Sex speaks for how they truly feel for each other and says more than words here. 

This connection is powerful but can fall apart quick. You must be careful with each other’s feelings and really think individually before making rash decisions that could hurt each other or yourselves. Be very conscious of each other and never selfish or the relationship will spiral. Compatibility is 2/10 - Under mars the initial spark is very strong but outside of sex, they will clash over what they want vs what they need within a relationship.

What’s your opinion on Virgo Venus + Scorpio Mars in a relationship?

Virgo Venus men are constantly seeking perfection in a mate so at times it may be hard for them to choose/they can be picky. They prefer the quintessential ‘good girl’ type or at least someone who displays modesty, an organized/professional demeanor. Scorpio mars means extreme intensity. So on top of all the kissing, he may even enjoy a bit of BDSM/being tied up/choking etc. Scorpios like that stuff. Men with Scorpio mars’ will be the type to also hold your hand while doing these kinds of things to you. Very very very strong libido [ruled by Mars]. Their energy is also extremely attractive– very easy for them to seduce others even without trying so be careful with romantic rivals. There will be romantic rivals.

Positive and negative qualities of Mars in Scorpio?

✎ POSITIVES:

amazingly competitive

exploding with passion

very patient, slow to anger

very strong-willed, strong-minded

they’re one of the best signs in bed

hardworking and bc they know how to use their power well, they have a lot of potential to do very well in their careers (ceo status truly)

✎ NEGATIVES:

p e t t y

stubborn

jealous, overbearing, possessive

holds grudges way too long.. way too long

remembers other’s weaknesses just to use them against them in arguments and disputes 

passive aggressive asf

I don't quite understand how Mars in Scorpio acts when they are pissed by something, how do they act in situations? I always read that in comparison whtn Aries they don't put theyr anger out on someone immediately, but they still are capable of intense anger and emotions?

Of course Aries and Scorpio are quite different, even though Scorpio was co-ruled by Mars, Scorpio is the different side of the coin. Aries is a more naive energy in a sense of more reckless and impulsive, just out there, while Scoprios are more contained, strategic, never reckless. Scorpios are assertive, dominant in very clever, cunning ways if you may say, they are obviously scary and intense when mad, very intense energy, just their vibe, their energy makes you feel a certain way, while with Aries hell breaks loose. Their energies and the way they go about things with a Mars placement is very different, also depending on the house Mars is in as well, that plays a big part. Scorpio Mars are also very tough and extreme and quite blunt.

Mars: Scorpio

- Emotions are highly concentrated

- Vengeful if upset; worst enemy you can make

- High energy placement

- Secretive

- Horny 24/7

- Self-disciplined and self sufficient

- Nothing can stop them once goals are set

- Highly obsessive

- Apt to be jealous and possessive 

- Powerful emotions make for a powerful will

- Don’t fear much of anything unless it involves losing what belongs to them

This is my opinion but I think Scorpio Mars anger is some of the scariest out there. It depends on your definition of scary or intimidating really but having been in close proximity to Scorpio Mars people...it's certainly something to witness. 

They can be the sweetest most considerate person but when they get angry (properly angry not irritated) they can rage. I've had a Scorpio Mars confide in me during those times and go over these elaborate, terrifying ideas for getting revenge on someone that actually shocked me, because I would never expect it from them. I had to laugh (we both did), because it was a little ridiculous and also because I knew they would never actually do those things.

But seeing just how quickly they went for the long con and how they knew exactly where to hit people where they were vulnerable was extremely telling. 

Scorpio Mars men I've actually seen have raging fits of anger that are destructive, but they were also very fiery, so that's probably why. 

Anger aside, they're determined people. Even when Mars in the chart is retrograde sometimes they put so much passion into what matters to them, and are usually hypersexual. If not that then they do still seek out and crave intimacy with others. Casual sex is okay when they're in a certain mindset but really they're better suited with partners they can trust. They reveal a lot of their inner desires/feelings when it comes to sex that they otherwise tend to keep private and really they would like to be able to share these parts of themselves with the right person. 

I do love Scorpio Mars energy but I understand that it's not for everyone in reality. They can be very obsessive/possessive of their partners, but not in any genuinely dangerous way (most of the time). The more demanding types who are obsessed with feeling empowered are usually the ones to watch out for. 

When they have other things in their chart to balance themselves out I think is when this placement works best, but even then they'll have some lessons to learn when it comes to sex and applying their energy in useful ways rather than dissipating it.

The Venus Signs when they like someone

Gemini Venus: They’ll talk a lot about the things they like and want to know what their crush like and do. They can ask a lot of questions and be very open to answering any question that their crush may have for them 

Virgo Venus: They’re very careful people, the kind you’re probably not sure if they like you even when they say it..until they show that they’ve listened to what you’ve had to say and what you like 

🐏 ARIES MARS

Mars is at its strongest in Aries, its natural sign. This placement represents high energy, initiative, courage and impulsiveness. Most of the energies seem to come out as the physical and emotional type, but in Aries, Mars is very active and assertive in demonstrating enthusiasm for all four types of energy. This is a very powerful position for Mars. 

You have an unrestricted drive to get projects done, to start new projects, and to act decisively. Your enthusiasm is contagious. An individualist with quite an ego, you always want to do things your way. Based on the influence of this planet taken by itself, you are not good at compromise or teamwork. There is a major part of you that always wants to charge out ahead of the pack and be the leader. Despite your apparent leadership abilities, you may function best when you are working alone and independently because of your demand to have your own way. If you are in a group, you will aspire to be the leader. Headstrong and independent, you won't tolerate opposition or interference and your temper can get you into trouble at times. Mars in Aries makes you very competitive in a variety of ways. This is perhaps the most courageous and enterprising Mars position.

You have a very strong sex drive which is spontaneous and easily aroused. Self-control can be a problems in this regard. As on the physical side, you are often unrestrained and very demanding emotionally.

The negative side of Mars in Aries is a lack of patience and discipline. Self-control and humility can be hard lessons, and often they are never mastered.

Like a warrior ready for battle. Aries Mars is a placement with an abundance of energy. Sometimes when these people can’t use the energy productively, it can channel into anger, frustration, and impatience. Aries Mars needs something physical to release their energy. Aries Mars is fierce and knows what they want and how to get it. They’re always looking for the next thrill/adventure. A great person to travel with.

🦂 SCORPIO MARS 

In Scorpio, Mars displays powerful emotions and desires. Mental, physical, and practical energies are are, likewise, also very high. Indeed, the level of energy with this placement is high in all respects. 

You are strong, self-reliant, extremely efficient, and highly self-disciplined. An intensity of purpose surrounds all that you undertake. This position illustrates the "do or die" principle very well. You may have an innate ability to transform other people in some significant way. You think of yourself as a "take control" person and a force to be reckoned with. You probably are.

Intensely passionate and sensual, you put much of your energy into sex. You are apt to be especially attractive to the opposite sex, whether or not you physically attractive. You may be fascinated with sexuality in all its expressions, certainly your interest is always keen. You're jealous and possessive of your sexual partners. Being trustworthy yourself, you expect the same from others. You're a loyal friend, or a bitter enemy, you never forget a betrayal.

Slow to anger, you rarely loose control, but when your ire is raised, you get even, and you can do so with frightening detachment. Proud, dignified, strong-willed, and stubborn, you have the sort of presence that is always felt by others even when you say nothing.

I love this placement :’) everyone thinks scorpio mars is big and scary, which can be true if you cross them, but they are so loyal if you just listen to them and be compassionate. They are actually pretty gentle like a cancer mars, but they have a front because they can’t take anymore hurt. If developed, this mars placement is incredibly psyhic an intuitive. Great partners in bed.

The differences between Mars in Aries and Mars In Scorpio

Scorpio is more observant and aware and will exploit your weaknesses. They're more controlled. Aries, literally doesn't give an eff and will attack you and try to dominate you if you make them mad. Scorpio does slow burns but can exploit aries's impulsiveness and manipulate them into messing up. Scorpio might feel attacked by Aries's directness. Aries might feel small when scorpio shows them their mistakes.

The signs and crushes 💕

Gemini: charms crush into falling for them , Gemini’s are great at talking and are total masters at the mind so it’s like they study their crush, will stare at them like a work of art , asks them aLOT of questions, makes them laugh

Virgo: observation galore, notices little things about the crush, to how they like to wear their hair to their favorite color, very sweet , loves to help and listen to them if they are feeling upset , buys them little thoughtful gifts if they really feeling them. Gets close with them

Can you do a post on how each Mars sign would try and seduce someone they like?

Aries Mars - oh they’re either direct in a sense of directly asking you out, or just wanting to get close to you so they initiate hang outs, they really light up when speaking to that s/o, just their body language and energy is totally noticeable when they like someone, you can sniff it a mile away, they will either defend that person or have debates and arguments on purpose, so they will mentally stimulate their person and awaken that passion when communicating, also other provocations as well lol, we are provoking little shits i must admit but we do it directly lol, also lots of touching and teasing, competitive

Scorpio Mars - ahhhhhhh intensity, there is some kind of magnetism there that attracts you, some kind of a puzzle and mystery that pulls you in about them, once they like you they will want to get to know you fully, they will want to achieve intimacy in your soul to soul connection, they are tough and there is a sense of danger attracting you but once they start liking you they will become obsessed with you and you will notice that they become obsessive and possessive and a bit jealous, because they feel emotions so intensely and deeply they feel these negative emotions like that as well and it shows.

Mars in Scorpio - Sex

In sexual matters they may not be totally open, but when they do let go sexually they can be physically and emotionally insatiable and do nothing by halves. The sexual act often involves totally merging with a partner and possessing the uncanny ability of understanding a lover’s deepest and darkest desires. As a sign of extremes, he or she can either live totally without sex or are very passionate in the bedroom. Mars in Scorpio is sexually magnetic, and when they feel passionately about someone or something they become obsessed. They want to explore the depths of a partner, but power struggles may be an issue in close relationships, and if betrayed they may become violent and their emotions explode to the surface with great ferocity. 

Sexual, Powerful, Scary

People born with Mars in Scorpio are never afraid to go to dark and scary places. They thrive there, its where they derive their energy. It is best not to mess with people, they operate with great power in the realm of your deepest fears and oldest nightmares.  If you anger them, they will strike where it really really really hurts.  They have quite a lot of soul power and often spend their lives training it and trying to control it so that it can be used for good and not evil. This type usually has a lot of energy tied up in sexual matters. They will need to find some athletic or creative practice in which to funnel their strong core energy so that they don’t become total sex addicts. Their sex drive is extremely high and their raw sexual energy is usually off the charts.  They are often extremely sexy and attractive people. Whatever they look like, they usually don’t have to try hard at all to find a sex partner. They tend to draw partners to them without much effort.

Men born win Mars in Scorpio will be the strong silent type, the dark horse.  They are mysterious and intimidating.  They are very private, confident, and sexy. They are very secretive. There is always something bubbling under the surface that you will NEVER know about.  They may seem very shy and quiet.   They are usually loners. They don’t do well in packs.  They are very in touch with their dark side and use it to get what they want.  They possess a lot of power and as a result they don’t attract a lot of competition. They are very intimidating and people are usually too scared to go near them. Less sharp people may see their quietness as weakness and may poke the tiger. They often attract less intuitive bully types who only see them for who they are on the surface. They sense some power but they don’t believe it so they test them and test them until they finally experience their extreme sting. They always regret it.

Mars in Scorpio is the most aggressive Scorpio position possible. If you think it hurts when a Sun in Scorpio comes back for their revenge, you will not at all be prepared for what a Mars in Scorpio man has to bring.  They are out for blood and blood only. They can play really dirty too. Nothing is off bounds or off limits.  It can get very ugly with these people.  They are not the types to pick fights or enter competitions. But when they are in a fight or competition. They cannot stand to lose and they don’t really care how they win, as long as they do.

Mars in Scorpio men are not typically very athletic though they should be.  They do great in any type of physical routine that involves focus and deep concentration.  They can excel in martial arts, water sports, extreme sports, yoga, gymnastics.  Their biggest competition is themselves and they do best when they can constantly push themselves beyond their own limits.  They can be daredevils too so they should exercise caution in any sport and don’t push themselves too far.  Mars in Scorpio is at their best when they can find a routine physical practice they can really excel in. They are so powerful and emotionally balanced when that happens.

Mars in Scorpio can be very into activities that are weird, psychedelic, occult, magical etc.  They often exert a lot of energy experimenting in areas of the unknown and shooting themselves, in some form, into oblivion. They often experiment with drugs. They have to exercise extreme caution with these substances because they can easily get lost in that world.  Scorpio is the sign of the underworld and its very easy for them to tell themselves they belong only there. They can also be a bit masochistic  They can easily push themselves too far in a dark direction out of a dysfunctional need to punish themselves for something.

Scorpio is also the sign of transformation though. So more than anyone Mars in Scorpio man will have the ability to control or quit any addictions as long as he really wants to.  Most importantly he can use his experiences in the other side to add to his own power and put the energy towards something positive. When this happens they are usually highly creative people. Their creations are so beautiful, they seem magical and they are always fun to experience.

Mars in Scorpio man is very loyal in relationships.  He can be obsessively loyal even possessive.  He is usually the type to stay committed to one person at a time. They have very focused energy and they can’t often successfully convince more than one person of true devotion.  They are very sensitive, much more sensitive than they seem and they often get hurt by their lovers.  When this happens it will take them a while but they will cut that person off forever.  But they will probably fester and fester about it for a very long while. They may stalk that person and be secretly obsessed for a long while. This negative energy, though, often fuels them in some way, creatively or athletically. They always take their sexual turmoil and use it to boost their own power in some way. Sexual frustration often yields huge creative or financial success in their lives.

Sexually, their skills are usually off the charts.  At their best, they are the masters.  Instinctively they just know what they are doing. If they have nothing to block this powerful energy then they connect very well with their partner and understand her needs. They are sensitive, careful, and passionate.  They love sex. They live for sex. And the opportunity to do it with someone they really love is basically the highest part of heaven and the deepest part of hell for them rolled up into one. It is a very powerful experience.  

Mars in Scorpio equates sex with power. They are faithful to their partner. They can be very complex, and they need their partner to want to share the depth and intensity of the experience. They don't kiss and tell; they believe sex to be an intimate and personal issue. They give great emotional depth to their partners. They may focus on breaking sexual taboos, if their partner is up to it. Mars in Scorpio is a bit possessive of their partners. While they probably won't admit it, they don't like to share their partners with anyone, not even for social engagements or family obligations.

Mars signs and sex ♂

Aries: Quick to get aroused, little foreplay. Rough and aggressive sex. Hair pulling. Selfish in bed. Probably really like doggystyle, and having sex against a desk or a table. They don’t last long but they’re always up for a second round. Unexpected sex, be ready to do it anywhere.

Scorpio: Either really dominant or submissive, they like power plays. Lots of stamina, powerful rhythm. Probably likes things like ropes and handcuffs, they like to break taboos. Pain turns them on,  probably likes biting and scratching. Hickeys to show possession. 

What do you think about a Mars in Scorpio guy?

The classic Mars in Scorpio male, is dashing, and in charge, with a pinch of old-school charm. They are independent, strong willed, and gifted at getting things done. Nothing excites a mars in Scorpio like a challenge,. They carry themselves with a sultry alluring mysterious air, practically begging to be explored. When Mars is in Scorpio, the sexuality is unnaturally prominent, they will be a veritable sex magnet. It’s said the sexual magnetism is so irresistible, physical appearances are totally disregarded in the presence of this planet. Luckily, the cool tempering of Scorpio makes them go about loving differently. Rather than having sex, this planet in Scorpio is for making love. The intimate experiences will be intense passionate, yet strangely dark. One must be truly special to be with a mars in Scorpio male.

A Mars in Scorpio is sexy without trying, without knowing, without even being physically attractive. They just ooze sexual energy, naturally, all the time; it's something they don't have to think about, like breathing.Mars in Scorpio is a darkly sexual lover. Sex is something that is intense and deep for them, even if they will never admit it. Mars in Scorpio might be into the idea of power and will like to be in control of their partner. Mars in Scorpio will have a high sex drive and a need for intimacy. Taboos and strange sex appeal to this Mars. Mars in Scorpio can have sexual fantasies that might make some feel appalled. Mars in Scorpio is not for everyone, though. Not everyone can handle their intense passion in the bedroom. Sex is one of their favorite passtimes. Mars in Scorpio will make sure that their lover is pleased because they want to be the best at sex.

Mars in Scorpio

Your mars sign is about how you act in a situation. It’s your sex life and what you find attractive in men (if you are attracted to men)

A person with their Mars in Scorpio will take action with endless willpower and passion. Either they will get the task done, exaclty on time with a bow on it, or they simply won't commit to it at all. In a situation they seem calm, cool and collected, but push them to far and you will witness the intense emotion that lies underneath. A Scorpio in Mars likes to be ambitous and set challenging goals for themselves. They have lots of energy and as said before, although the are slow to show emotion, once they do you would do best to stay out of their way. 

A person with this placement who is attracted to men will be likely to go for men with a mysterious aura. They like distinct facial features, and proportionate body compositions.

A person with Mars in Scorpio is always attractive no matter what exactly their physical appearence is. They have a certain magnetism about them that attracts potential lovers. In the bedroom, these people are up for almost anything. They think of sex as powerful, passionate, and erotic. Many like to get into the more taboo side of the bedroom. But at the same time, they are not sluts. They stick with one partner at a time for the most part, and what happens in the bedroom- or anywhere else- stays in the bedroom. And despite their often eagerness to get in touch with some of the kinkier stuff, they always respect their partners wants and needs first.

You will often be a jealous lover though you can hide it very well. Your sex life must have a deep emotional bond or it will feel rather meaningless. You can be attracted to intense lovers. You can be very stubborn about your beliefs and your ideas and thoughts will be hard to change. You will have the strength and will power to go after what you want. A very passionate person. 

You rarely get mad. You're often annoyed, irritated, but you rarely get mad. When you're mad you fight people. You are prepared for any type of violence, and you sure as hell know how to fight even if you've never done it before. You're easily annoyed by family/dumb people. Dumb people piss you off as much as the next guy, it's just that when you're annoyed you go into a different realm. You're quite, which is probably why some people fear you, because they probably think you're plotting revenge which in actuality you're just annoyed.  The only time you get actually angry, is when people talk shit. You believe that if you don't like someone, or if you have something to say, that you shouldn't scurt around the issue, that you should fuckin say somethin. I mean, you get pissed when people talk about you, but if people repeatedly talk mad shit about your friends??? haha I hope they have life insurance lmfao. You are a deeply and secretly passionate person. When you love things you LOVE things. When it comes to sex you are indifferent. It's not something you talk about a lot, it's not something you really care for but when your time comes to get it on you are A+ in bed. You are very sexual, kinky and all around there to please your partner and you have fun doing so. You're usually the dominant one but you're welcome to all kinds of things. People with Mars in Scorpio make extremely formidable enemies. It takes a great deal of hurt to anger them, and they are the slowest to anger. They very rarely get to their real anger, they may have many irritations and annoyances that other people may cause to them, but even then they will keep an even keel and not show any reaction and will keep it under the surface, like all of their bubbling emotions. For them to get truly angry it may take months, even years of emotional hurt, their anger can be represented as boiling water, the energy of Mars being the anger that gives the warmth, and the energy of Scorpio which represents the emotional water, it boils and boils, getting warmer and warmer until it becomes too much and that’s when they embrace their Scorpio nature and go after whatever the hurt is coming from, most likely a person. They are highly vengeful people and nothing will stop them from bringing karma to those who deserve it, they will fester for awhile, thinking about how to strike and when it happens, it’s truly a horrific yet incredible experience. Someone with Mars in Scorpio will make the source of their hurt make each day a living hell while being inconspicuous and even friendly to that person, you will truly never know if a Scorpio Mars is after you, because they hide things so well and they use that as their weapon.  They will never stop until they get what they want and what they want when angered, is blood.

Venus Signs in love

Venus in Gemini:

how they attract others: venus in gemini people love to flirt. they use their quick wit as a tool to attract someone. they love teasing and making the person they’re pursuing interested in finding out more about them. they act playful and show interest and knowledge in many different subjects. a venus in gemini’s goal is to have the other person think of him or her as “cute” and “fun”.

what they want in a relationship: a gemini venus wants frequent change and spontaneity. they want someone who can hold great conversations on a variety of topics. they want someone who will show tons of interest in them. humor is very important to a gemini venus. every gemini venus’ goal is to always have something to smile about in the relationship. they want to be entertained by their partner and also feel like they’re “free”.

how they act in a relationship: venus in gemini people don’t care much about deep issues in the relationship. they don’t want to discuss them. they are always fun and full of life. gemini venus has lots of friends so won’t spend all of his/her time with their partner. they talk a lot and love sharing interests. they want to learn as much as possible and share what they learned with their partner. gemini venus closely analyzes the entire relationship. they keep the relationship stimulating for them. they make the relationship feel both comfortable and fun. venus in gemini wants to skip problems and emphasize the good aspects of the relationship.

how the relationship can end: gemini venus doesn’t want a partner that is always stuck on the same thing. a partner that hates change is a partner that won’t work for them. a gemini venus hates not receiving attention and feeling too “tied down”. if the relationship doesn’t have intelligent conversations, the relationship will not work. they don’t want a “boring” relationship. if their partner is always trying to address issues, the two aren’t compatible.

Venus in Virgo:

how they attract others: a virgo venus doesn’t flirt. instead, they will show that they are clean, organized, attentive, reliable and logical. the person the venus in virgo is interested in will notice those qualities. usually they are attracted to a friend. no virgo venus attempts to pursue a stranger, they don’t know the stranger very well.  virgo venus will make sure to be helpful. they are shy and slow to enter a relationship because they want to be sure of the other person’s feelings.

what they want in a relationship: venus in virgo wants to be appreciated. they want one-on-one dates and preferably in a quite setting. they want to feel needed but not get taken advantage of. they want to fix any relationships issues that are present. they want to feel confident with the relationship, it’s important that they know their partner is loyal. because they are shy, they don’t want to be shown off too much. they would much rather have a quiet and dedicated relationship.

how they act in a relationship: virgo venus is extremely attentive. they love doing small things to make their partner happy. these things that they do are’t grand gestures of love, though. nothing flashy or showy, but very helpful. they are great listeners and will learn everything there is to know about their partner. sometimes they need space. every person with venus in virgo is pretty critical, but it’s just because they’re trying to help. their relationships are comfortable.

how the relationship can end: virgo venus is very helpful in such small ways that they might go unnoticed. their partner needs to be able to recognize this help and show appreciation for it. the relationship will end if virgo venus’ partner is not dedicated or doesn’t pay very much attention to the virgo venus. the partner can’t be too bold or active. virgo venus likes to feel safe, pushing them to do things that they don’t want to do can seriously damage the relationship. 

🕊🥀 What turns you on? 🥀🕊

Mars in Aries: Women can be drawn to dominate and passionate men and like the idea of being conquered and tamed(seeing as how these women tend to be a force of nature) and usually they like the idea of “forced submission"The hair is a hotspot and hair pulling can be a common occurrence sexually here. Rough sex is a commonality and most people link mars in Scorpio to animalistic sex and I would say that’s more Aries mars natives. •kinks: domination and rough housing, these natives are sexually aroused by the nitty gritty of sexual liaisons. They're both energetic and easily childlike with their libido! They crave constant and immediate gratification and satisfaction and for that reason are known to climax quickly or overwhelm themselves with pleasure before the act has even started. They want sex to feel animalistic and raw-raw lust turns them on and so does the prospect of losing oneself to the "feeling" their muts in the sheets be it male or female and women and men here lean towards being tops. There not in to prolonged forplay and can get easily bored with overly wordy interlude to sex despite their easy attraction to the air signs. Persona mars in Aries(mars and Venus persona chart) •these are the impulsive and daring when in love, every move and every step is sought with passion and chaos. They may Natally have a calm mars sign like Virgo or even cancer yet when in love they're a different beast..one of high volistic energy. They tend to be a bit more sexually driven in the relationship  and at times may seem to only have their minds in a bedroom setting 24/7 when in reality sex is how they show their love-it's a doorway in the most primitive sense of expressing their deep love for their partner. Sex here is very as they say "Latin" it takes on a powerful and romantic tone but one littered in intoxicating dominance..they can seem to want to devour their partners and can be turned on by the mere sight of their partner vulnerable and naked before them. Draconic mars in Aries: •a soul assertiveness-there is a hidden and underlining tension and friction to these individuals no matter their natal or even persona mars they have a almost unconscious desire for bare and raw to the flesh like physical interaction. These people are insatiable and often have a almost otherworldly vestibule of sexual grace-their past life was one lived with force and pravada one the was hard fought but one that was sought through ones own identification with her/his physical identity of the self. This personality often may never rear its head unless one truly grows to unify with this energy-but sex here always has an elements of emotional whirlwinds and vagrant friction..sex here is the most animalistic of them all and one that is as close to death as possible, these natives often crave fire sign energy in that of the natal charts of others and tend to showcase this side of themselves most when involved with Arian lovers(sun/moon/mercury/Venus/mars/rising/and generational planets included) 

Aries mars are often the most primal and raw of the mars signs simply it being the first born. Aries mars identify sex with the physical body and feel the most comfortable in the realm of sex as they are in unison with mars-which adds to the almost domineering and tyrant nature they exhibit sexually. They tend to lean towards more aggressive and even fast strokes and or sways when in the moment. That being said Aries does things fast and can be the type to ejaculate a bit too soon, this can even be said for the women here. That being said sexually they’re not selfish and usually want their partner to be just as overwhelmed by the sensation as they are. 

Debunk: Aries mars are usually very tender sexually and aren’t “go go go” the whole time! In fact they are fairly open to new things even if they express disinterest at first. Foreplay isn’t something they’re really into but it’s not impossible to get them to give it a try! A biggie debunk here is that not all Aries mars are gonna be super aggressive and wild!! Aha but they’ll all have a lot of energy!. 

Decans: 

Decan one(0-10 degrees): will be the more excitable and verbal of the bunch! Very high libido and an intense sexual hunger! Will most likely love tension and have a very natural and easy going nature about the way they express their sexuality! Might cum fast but will give you the ride of your life. 

Mars in Scorpio: Men from what I’ve noticed are very much so turned on my the “moment” they LIVE for that one “moment” and the lead up to it. They can be very easily aroused by touch and perceived stimulation and or anticipation of a moment turning into something more. So if you intrigue them enough and give them the idea that something otherworldly(and or sexual) could occur via glances and movements and a small shake and jive here and there you’ve got them. Sex here is about control and how many ways you and them can lose said control.

✨✨ Aries Mars culture ✨✨

Aries is at home with Mars so that Arian energy is doubled and extremely passionate in bed. 

amazing STAMINA, can probably go on for hours especially in their youth. 

It’s a very rough, raw type of love/sex 

Very adventurous in bed, would like to try new things 

The hunter looking for it’s prey...and once they get you, OH BOYY 

Extremely passionate about their love. If they love you, they will scream it from the rooftops. Sexual compatibility is important to them though!

 ✨✨ Scorpio Mars culture ✨✨

Pluto is the higher version of Mars, so when these two get together… woah

Sex is intense, but since Scorpio is a sign of black and white there are periods of total absence (which may come off as a surprise) and ones of full of intensity (not much of a surprise) (but doesn’t absence make things more kinkier?)

These people are highly magnetic and ooze a certain type of secret sexuality 

Has high stamina and a strong will to get a lot (or very difficult) things done 

Usually has a higher pain tolerance (mentally and physically), the type of people who has a “horror” story that involves them overcome something

Passive aggressive af (gifted at manipulation and revenge) 

Not the one to kiss and tell, very secretive and takes things seriously

Into the taboo or unconsciously attracts it, relationships and events can border toxic or dangerous

Prime candidate to be a stalker or to be stalked

Very primal in bed, usually sees sex as a part of nature– a way of procreation before untimely death (like a prey mantis, kinky right)

Wants to be dominate or be dominated in sex, or at least into more risky, intimate sex

Sex Gods, usually needs to deeply understand their partner before sex  so they usually know how to deeply satisfy them

Not into casual sex or sleep around, but if they are it doesn’t mean much “it’s just sex,” bc sex with a bond is different and more meaningful to them

Paranoid at others actions, they type of people who see through your lies and bullshit

Usually has to fight for their riches and resources, so jealously and protectiveness of lovers can be high and loyalty is a priority

Money, riches and other resources are hawt bc they mean power (which is even hawter)

Likes to be with someone who is strong and can play power games with them, or someone who can make them be a power couple

passion unmatched by any other placement 

sex will be crazy crazyyyy

aggressive af

probably a psychopath in relationships, nbd tho

having intense emotions

Don't tell them they can't do something because they will make it their life’s mission to prove they can

attracts so many people but ends up pushing most of them away

Mars signs and erogenous zones/kinks

Mars in Aries:

Those people love rough sex and may like to include a little bit of pain in the sexual act.

They like to dominate and dislike submission.

Their sensitive spot is the whole head (if I can say that). They may enjoy hair pulling, ear bitting.

Hair Pulling is the best way to make an Aries Mars wanting to scream your name or call you different names.

As we were talking about names. They may love to be called “daddy/mommy” because it gives them the power they dream about.

They are the types to scratch their partner’s back and be actually very proud of their act.

Mars in Scorpio:

We got to the so known ‘king of sex’.

They are sensitive everywhere when having sex.

They love to dominate as much as Aries. 

They sometimes love to get jealous, it might actually turn them on.

They love bondage and whips.

They can love everything from above, especially daddy and mommy kink.

They love foreplay as much as penetration.

Those people love blowjobs, maybe too much.

Having rough sex is not something to be afraid of, they say this themselves. Being a little animalic isn’t doing anything wrong, right?

Men might prefer a dominatrix or a person to dominate the game. They need to fight somehow.

[sambuckyevents-inactive]

Last Weekly Round Up

—–

Title: Four Songs Author: justficsandstuff Square Filled: Amnesia Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

It takes awhile for the thought to sink in, Sam isn’t coming home with Bucky, he’s going someplace else with a stranger in his mind. Bucky remembers to not let his heart ache so hard when Sam flinches at his touch, when their eyes meet and there is nothing but a foreign feeling.

Or

Bucky writes to Sam about four songs he needs him to remember.

Link to Ao3.

—–

Title: find me in San Francisco Author: francehonestly Square Filled: Dystopian AU Rating: Teen +  Warnings: Dystopian setting, War, Violence, Survival Summary:

Bucky looked over to Sam for a moment before speaking, “Las Vegas may have currency but it doesn’t have you."

OR

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes stumble upon each other once more at the aftermath of war.

Link to Ao3.

—–

Title: the sweetest tragedy Author: francehonestly Square Filled: Disability Rating: Teen + Warnings: angst, PTSD, mourning Summary:

“I love art,” Sam had signed in ASL, his hands moving enthusiastically as Bucky held onto every word, and it’s a tragedy really, when the brown in Sam’s eyes had a glint of yellow in them when the sunset settled in them beautifully. “I’m a tour guide actually. Studied it all my life."

Bucky had nodded, his grin almost contagious as he watched the light from the plane window outline Sam’s features as if a mosaic. "Do you make art yourself?” He spoke carefully, and his ASL was wonky at best, but Sam appreciated every move of his fingers and lips.

Sam smiled, mouthing, “I wish.”

OR

Sam Wilson is in love with art and a sergeant named Bucky Barnes.

Link to Ao3.

—–

Title: sweetness in a cup Author: francehonestly Square Filled: Coffee Shop AU Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: None.  

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: the laugh that rings and the smile that shines Author: 27dis Square Filled: Alternate Universe Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes were two of the most poplar teachers in school. And somehow the students shipped them together, Peter’s mind supplied helpfully while his eyes was glancing at the teachers down the hall, deep in discussion. 

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: Red-Handed Author: cptnsambucky Square Filled: Caught Having Sex Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

“Bucky glares at Steve but Steve ignores him and turns towards Natasha. ‘You’ll never believe what I just caught Sam and Bucky doing!’”  

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: Unnamed Author: cptnsambucky Square Filled: Domestic Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: None. 

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: A Soaring Romance Author: enchanted-lightning-aes Square Filled: Free Space Rating: Teen + Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

Bucky finds ways to express his feelings for Sam, which could be as strong as the winds of winter. Sometimes, it takes the right words to show the right amount of true feelings.

Link to Ao3.

—–

Title: “untouched” and “don’t touch” Author: 27dis Square Filled: Free Space Rating: Unrated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

The laugh rang through the room, startling Tony in his seat.

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: the waiter Author: francehonestly Square Filled: Noir Rating: Teen +  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

Bucky turns to an old friend for help. Sam wants nothing to do with him.

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: hear me yelling Author: francehonestly Square Filled: E to F to Lovers Rating: Teen + Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

Everyone knew that Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes didn't necessarily like each other.

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: if i meant to do this with you Author: 27dis Square Filled: Harry Potter AU Rating: Gen Warnings: My attempt at friendship pining Summary:

From all the other two houses he could chose, the boy he had made friends with had to be from Slytherin’s worst enemy.

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: Nobody’s Game Author: francehonestly Square Filled: FBI Partners Rating: Unrated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

The twenty-year long partnership between Agent Sam Wilson and Agent James Barnes comes to an end when a promising lead on their cold case, the Missing Carol Danvers, arises, but on their way to Louisiana, obstacles are stacked, secrets are spilled, and tension is thick in the air. Now they must ask a question to themselves: Will I stay, or will I leave this place? 

Link to Tumblr.

—–

Title: Love Me Author: cptnsambucky Square Filled: Hair Pulling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary:

After escaping Hydra, Bucky really wasn’t too worried about his sex life. Why would he be? He was too busy trying to adjust to, well, being his own person.

After meeting Sam, however, Bucky decided that he definitely needed to brush up on all things sex. So, what did he do? He googled stuff, made a list, basically researched and wrote down what he thought he’d like and wouldn’t like. Simple stuff.

Link to Ao3.

—–

[chleem]

Flashing Lights #5

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping, (read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy/translate my work

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter4 | index | chapter6

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Mid-April 2024

What’s so fun about singing in a desert? 

The concept of Coachella always seemed ridiculous to you, yet here you were, walking to see the last performance of the day. Of course, hand in hand with Drew. 

The whole day the two of you were 'inseparable', looking at different shows. For most of the time, he’s kept an arm around you, whispering useless stuff in your ear whenever someone films the two of you.

Ever since stepping out of the car this morning, you’ve attracted a few stares, photographers hoping to take pictures of you and Drew. After all, this was your first time attending Coachella, and you did dress accordingly to theme.

The stylist definitely did it on purpose, making you and Drew match. You wore a denim skirt, a cute lace top, cowboy boots, and accessories from brands you’re an ambassador for. Drew wore a denim jacket, black pants, white shirt, with accessories. Oddly similar to yours. 

Good thing your sunglasses cover your line of sight from others, especially Drew. You didn’t want him to know that you’ve been glancing at his body since the you both stepped out from the car. But really, he must know that he's attractive, right?

The last time you saw him was at the yacht, and things…surprisingly ended well. You got drunk, which resulted in a relaxed you that was willing to pose lovingly with Drew. After that, the two of you headed back home in seperate flights.

Once you step into the VIP section, you let go of his hand. You feel him staring at the side of your face, but you just stare at the dimly-lighted stage. This whole day he’s been the one initiating intimacy, whereas you were just focused on getting as much free beer as you can (they were passing drinks out). And now, at this last show, you had enough of him. 

You down the last of your beer, handing your empty cup to a random bodyguard standing watch. He takes it with a confused face, to which you ignore. Gosh, the beer here was horrible. 

Drew attempts to hold your hand again, and you just cross your arms. “Why not?” He whispers in your ear, standing closely to you. 

“Because I don’t want to anymore,” you simply say, staring at the stage. When was this show going to start? You couldn’t be more eager to go home, and drink some beer that’s actually good. 

“But you held my hand for the whole day.”

“Yes, and I hated every second of it,” you turn over to him while saying this, looking right into his eyes. Even in the night his eyes are bright. How fucking annoying. 

“Well, so did I. But you don’t see me bitching, do you?”

“Because you know you have a career to save. I don’t-“

“Don’t remind me about what I’m doing. I know what I’m doing, but I’m not sure you do.”

“I’m right here, aren’t I?” You say, tapping his chest in an annoying way to show you’re in front of him. He looks down at you, poking his tongue against his cheek. 

“Stop touching me,” he says in a low voice, his eyes still staring into yours. 

“What are you going to do about it?” You taunt, and you push his shoulder as hard as you can, and he doesn’t flinch at all. You do it to the other side as well, gaining the same reaction from him. Is he a stone? 

You flick his forehead. Same reaction, his eyes staring irritatedly into yours.

You reach to pinch his cheeks, but he grabs your wrists and pulls you into him. He captures you into a forced hug, your head deep between his chest. You feel one arm around your waist, the other holding your wrist tight to him. What?

All you smell is Drew, and all you see is Drew (’s chest).

“Hug me back and smile,” you hear him say, his fingers tapping against your waist. 

“Fuck no,” you murmur against his chest.

“Everyone’s watching,” he says. 

Fucking hell.

You shake his hand away from your wrist, and you hug him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his upper body down a bit. Resting your chin on his shoulder, you glance at the back. Okay. The front row all had their phones out and were shamelessly taking photos of you two. Gosh, can’t people mind their own fucking business? 

You stay like that hugging for ten seconds or so, until Drew’s hand slips a bit lower to the curve of your ass; you push him away. It wasn’t a hard push; but a push nevertheless. “Getting too comfortable,” you say, but giving him a smile since all the cameras were pointed this way.

“Hand slipped,” is all he says, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You furrow your eyebrows. “That hug was enough.”

“Wouldn’t it be weird if we stopped touching each other?” He says, his face close to yours, and his arm hangs comfortably around you. 

His breath hits your face, which you just reply, “your breath stinks.”

He purposely blows another breath in your face, and you flinch away in disgust. “I would slap you if it weren’t for all these cameras.”

You hear him laugh, and you just roll your eyes. You lean into him, holding his hand that’s over your shoulder. If you’ve got to play the part, might as well play it right. “When’s this show going to fucking start?”

“Why? You like Tyler the creator?”

“Who’s that?” Drew looks at you with widen eyes, the corner of his lips curled up. “What? Is he famous? Am I suppose to know who he is?”

“Yeah, we’re about to watch his show,” he giggles at you while talking, his shoulders shaking. You furrow your eyebrows at him, your grip on his hand tightening. You do not like his laugh. His smile. His smirk. The way his lips curl up. You do not like it. Especially when he’s laughing about you, or at you. 

Somehow, his smile grows when he sees your confused and hateful expression. 

“Stop laughing!” You frustratingly say, attempting to push him away. But he holds onto you tighter, pulling you closer to him. 

“Do you live under a rock?” He says, a teasing smile on his face. “Or are you too consumed with your own fame you forget others?”

“You wish you had this problem,” you reply, hoping that would get the smile off his face.

But it doesn’t. In fact, he ignores your comment. “Frank Ocean."

“Who?”

“Kali Uchis.”

“Stop.”

“Richard Jill.”

“I know him,” you lie, widening your eyes and nodding your head to act like you knew a bunch about this person. 

“Can you introduce me to him?”

“Well, he’s really busy.”

“With what?”

“Producing music, going on tours-“

He bursts into laughter, throwing his head back. 

What’s so funny now? 

“The fuck?” You curse, hitting his chest to get him to stop laughing. No one likes to be laughed at, and right now, he’s making you feel horrible. 

He laughs, and when his blue eyes stare into yours, there’s tears in them. You want to punch him so bad right now. “I fucking made him up, y/n.”

You push him away, and he actually stumbles a bit, still chuckling at you. Will he stop laughing already? People are staring, and that makes you even more embarrassed. The area is noisy, but you feel as if someone can overhear your dumb attempt to look smart. 

“You’re a fucking jackass,” you say a bit louder, which the crowd probably heard. 

“And you’re a fucking idiot,” he replies, his laughter dying but the smile still rests around his face. 

You want to leave. You don’t want to stay here anymore, you want a smoke. You want some beer that's actually drinkable. You turn towards the exit, ready to leave, but Drew pulls you back. He keeps one hand on your wrist as he starts to take off his jacket.

“Get your hand off me,” you say, while your eyes went down to his body. Woah, was he wearing such a tight shirt this entire time?

“Wear this. It’ll be great for the cameras.”

“Fuck no,” you say quickly. “You laugh at me, and now you want me to wear your shit?”

“It was a joke,” he says, taking the other sleeve off but not before switching hands to hold your wrist. Is he afraid you were gonna walk away while he’s taking off his jacket? “C’mon, just put this on.”

You stare at the jacket. Then you look back at him. No smile, no laughter, no curl at the corner of his lips. “Cunt,” you whisper to him, taking the jacket from him. You put it on, the sleeves sagging and the shoulders feel heavy, way too big. 

Smells like Drew. Again. 

“Right. I’m the cunt,” he says in a defeated tone. “But at least I know who exists and who doesn’t.”

You raise a hand to slap him, but he catches it and slips it into the pocket of his pants. “People watching,” he reminds you again, leaning closely to your ear. 

“Greater reason for me to slap you,” you reply, before pinching him real hard with the hand in his pocket. He groans, quickly taking your hand out and holding it. You resist, but he holds tightly onto it.

Suddenly, the screen starts, and it’s a video of a man in a van explaining stuff. 

“That’s Tyler the creator,” Drew tells you, pointing to the screen.

“I fucking know that, you dick,” you reply, eyes glued to the screen. 

"Do you?" He playfully whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

But then, calls for Drew are heard, causing the two of you to turn to the source. A group of friends at the front row, waving at Drew. You’ve never seen any of these people, but Drew seem to, because he walks over to them, and holding his hand, you’re forced to walk over as well. “What are you guys doing here?” He happily shouts, trying to be louder than the music. 

A short girl with messy curls smiles at Drew, “I should be asking you that! Why did you cancel on us if you were coming here as well?”

A man beside her says, “can’t you see? He’s on a date.”

The group looks at you, first eyeing your jacket, then at you and Drew holding hands. Then they stare directly into your face. “Shit, so this is real?” The short girl asks, a mocking smile on her face. 

You furrow your eyebrows at her. Weird.

“Yeah, um, Y/n, these are my friends,” Drew says, and he points at each of them. Firstly, he points at the short girl. “This is Odessa. This is Jay, this is-“

He tells you each of their names, but you get lost pretty quick, even though this was only a group of six people. They kept looking at you in awe (duh, you're an A-list actress) with warm smiles on their faces. Well, not all of them. The short girl, who’s name is Odessa, keeps her eyes on Drew the whole time, her hand going to touch Drew’s arm, even suggesting to watch the show together. 

Of course Drew says yes, telling security to let his friends through. You stay quiet; they were his friends, not yours. And you didn’t want them to get a piece of your mind, because who knows what you’ll say once opened your mouth. 

Drew seems to know what you’re thinking, because he whispers in your ear, “You’re not going to ask them to leave, are you?”

“I’m not that bitchy,” you shrug, eyes on the stage as Tyler the Creator is still in his cabin, on the big screen. “But you said my thoughts.”

“Aren’t you the nicest,” you hear the sarcasm in his voice, and he drops your hand, now wrapping his arm around your waist, under the jacket. His thumb rubs in circles on the bare skin, and you hate how it causes your goosebumps to rise. “Besides, my friends won’t judge you.”

“Judge me?” You turn to him, and when you do, you release how close he was. You glance at his lips, but quickly look back into his eyes, hoping he didn’t catch that. “What is there to judge about me?”

“You reek of alcohol,” Drew says, his tone teasing. 

“Everyone stinks here.”

“But you stink everywhere,” Drew shrugs, turning his focus back on screen. 

Then, Tyler the creator jumps out the screen, which shocks you. Your eyes widen, mouth open. The crowd goes crazy once the music starts. The music is good, and you bop your head lightly to it. Crazy how you’ve never heard of him or his music before. 

But you weren’t able to fully enjoy the show. 

Drew and his friends are talking, at a slightly loud volume. So, even if you didn’t want to, you can hear their conversations. His friends mostly asking how he’s doing, catching up about big events in each others’ lives, etc. 

You wanted them to shut the fuck up and silently watch the show. 

You looked over at Drew, trying to show him your discomfort, but all you see is sincerity on Drew. A smile on his lips, nodding while listening, and just…just talking about whatever with his friends. He makes funny faces, impressions, and jokes that makes them laugh. 

His friends seem to enjoy his company as well, listening to him talk and adding teasing comments in-between. Their bond seems deep, and sincere. 

You don’t have any friends; so you didn’t know how this felt like. To have someone to talk to, talk about whatever and talk whenever. 

You turn back to the stage, deciding to leave Drew and his friends alone. Your grip on his hand tightens though, but you’re sure he doesn’t realize it, too into the conversation between his friends. 

——

Early May 2024

The PR team obviously thought a relationship would solve you and Drew’s negative images, but it wasn’t enough. 

You were seen at a yacht, in Miami, right after the F1 grand prix. You weren’t careful enough, which lead to you being photographed with another A-list actor, touching, laughing, feeding each other food. It looked real couple-y. 

Not only that, but you were photographed sharing bottles of wine together. From anyone’s point of view, it was a date. 

Fans attacked all your social media platforms, urging you to explain yourself.

Well, your company addressed it. Saying that it was a casual hangout between friends and how the wine was just to 'pair along with the food'. 

While you were out drinking with another guy, Drew was at the Met Gala. And it happened to be the day after the photos were leaked. Poor Drew. But he handled it exceptionally well, steering away questions about the relationship. 

One thing for certain now, Drew was committed to this relationship, unlike you. You, who cooperates entirely based on your mood, and go around creating as much trouble as you possibly could. 

Maybe the public was right. Right for years. You are still just an immature kid, who still has white powder up her nose. 

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

word count: 2.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: thx for reading this chapter! things are getting...interesting 🙃 and youll realise that i didnt write out the date on the yacht...(cause i got lazy) bc it would just be yn and drew bickering. and every chapter will be like this, months/weeks apart. anyways, thx for reading! and thx for liking not a big deal (did not expect it to blow up) and due to popular demand, part 3 is in the works!

elevator | other | index | ch4 | ch6

[novelistrry]

“I will not give this to you,” Y/N shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows. She almost cringed at the tone of her voice, so abrasive and calloused. Harry brought out the worst in her, he really did. Though, she didn’t understand how Harry could make this frustration brew inside of her when the rest of the Styles were so lovely to be around.

In two long strides, Harry was rounding the writing desk and in front of her. He towered over her, reaching for the crumpled letter in her hands and before she could grasp the paper tighter, it slipped beneath her fingertips and he was reading it aloud.

“I thought you said this wasn’t for me, Princess?” Harry wasn’t asking, it was more rhetorical than anything. The mock in his tone sent a heat through her, plummeting up from where her heart dropped in her stomach to the apples of her cheeks.

Or

Harry is a prince, Y/N is a princess, and Harry is insufferable.

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, tension, etc.

Word Count: 3k

Disclaimer: This is an ongoing blurb. I do write full fics, but this blurb will have multiple parts and be posted in between fics (I am shooting for about 8-10 depending on the word count of each blurb).

Y/N hated Harry.

Actually, she wasn’t quite sure the loathing could run quite as deep as it did. It was almost as if when her eyes locked with his, or she got a whiff of his cologne in the corridor, the hatred would flow through her veins and act as a power source. As if the only fuel she needed was how much she absolutely and utterly loathed that man.

So when her handmaid had told her summertime was officially in action, and she knew what summertime brought, Y/N wanted to stomp her foot like a child and throw herself onto the floor. 

Summer was supposed to be excellent, filled with fruits and sunny skies. It was supposed to be warm and lovely, but when Y/N’s parents invite Harry and his family to the palace every summer, it’s hard to find enjoyment in the season. 

He was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and Y/N wasn’t one to deny it. Green mosaic eyes, captivating and alluring like a siren sat atop a rock luring sailors in with that beautiful voice. Only instead of using his rhythmic voice to lure her in, he used the gaze of his eyes. Soft features and delicate sculpting to his face that were so perfect it was absolutely infuriating. He was perfect, truly, in every way possible and the people loved his beautiful face and charming personality. 

Except when the large wooden doors shut, leaving Y/N and Harry alone (which wasn’t supposed to happen per Y/N’s request, by the way), his mouth was foul and his charming qualities were consigned to oblivion. Around Y/N, Harry was his worst version of himself and Y/N could not stand him. 

“I don’t want him to come this year, Dorothea!” Y/N exclaimed to her chambermaid as her heels clicked against the large tile pieces. She was pacing back and forth, a nervous tick she’s had since she was little. 

Sweat accumulated in the pits of her palms, a telling sign that she was nervous, though she would never say that to Dorothea or let it be known to Harry because he would never let her live it down. 

See, Y/N and Harry were similar in two ways. One, they were both heir to a royal bloodline. And two, they were both so, so stubborn. 

“I know, dear.” Dorothea, the sweetest old lady the palace could find, spent most of her day assisting Y/N in her needs even though there weren’t very many of those. Y/N was relatively low maintenance and hated to be waited on, “It’s only three months.”

With that sentiment, Y/N sat on the edge of her bed that was just made and fluffed, deciding she would spend her day sulking in her room rather than participating in any of the start of summer festivities. As if Dorothea could tell Y/N just wanted to be left alone, she quietly made her way out of the room, and left Y/N to her own devices.

____

Maybe dreams do come true, because the summer season had officially been in swing for three days and there were no sights of Harry, or his family, lingering around the palace. Eventually, she thought she would turn the corner and catch him chatting up a chambermaid with a devilish smile and eyes that would turn a girl into a puddle of melted candy, but it had been three days and even the girls she passed (who were anticipating him heavily) were whispering about the prince being late.

By the fifth day, Y/N was beginning to feel the weight lift off her chest and the ease flood through her veins. Though she didn’t dare to ask her parents about Prince Harry’s whereabouts because that would come with an agonizingly painful interrogation (they truly believed their daughter would wed the man), and a small reprimand because of her prior years sour behavior toward him, though they didn’t know just how insufferable he was in return. 

Small talk whisked throughout the palace by the seventh day, explaining that Prince Harry would not be attending this summer season because he was to be married by the end of the year to a princess Y/N had never heard of. A small twitch shot through her chest, but she brushed it off feigning it as relief she never had to deal with him again. While Y/N acted oblivious, everyone knew the reason Harry and his family visited the palace every summer is because the families were hoping for an alliance of sorts— for Harry and Y/N to form a union, to form a bond that would end in marriage. As much as she chalked the twitch in her chest and the hollow in her belly as a feeling of relief, she was confused as to why she wished he would have written. Not necessarily her, but at least to her parents, informing that he would not be there this summer (or any summer for that matter because he was getting married) that way she didn’t have to walk around for days on end, thinking there would be a jump scare in the corridor or the dining hall.

A flicker of annoyance lit inside of her, an emotion she was familiar with and actually grateful for at the moment because it took away from the abnormal sensation in the chest and abdomen. Why wouldn’t he write? Or his parents at the very least? What kind of person does that? Y/N knew just how hard the chambermaids, the scullery kitchen, and the people who made the palace function as well as it did were working to ensure their guests were accommodated and comfortable for the three months they were staying with them.

It was very unlike Y/N, usually very polite and soft-spoken to feel that kind of irritation. The kind that was so pent up it was making her breathing slightly erratic and she was puffing breaths in and out through her nose. In a very un-Y/N like fashion, she decided that if Prince Harry wasn’t going to write to her, then she was going to write to him and tell him how distasteful his lack of presence or notification on the betrothal was.

Before she could even process what she was doing, she was in the main library of the palace, sitting at the writing table and crafting a heartfelt message to her dear friend Prince Harry, slightly berating him in each line for his so-called prince ethics (or lack-there-of). 

Dear Prince Harry,

I am sitting here, writing to tell you how distasteful I find your lack of arrival. It is great news within our palace that you are to be married, which in turn, delays your arrival to our annual summer festivities, and possibly inhibits you from attending these festivities ever again.

A true prince, knowing royal ethics, would have written far in advance, revoking his acceptance to my family’s invitation. It seems that, as always, you are too engrossed in your own endeavors to care about the people around you who have taken the time to prepare for your arrival. 

I know our royal household has been working gravely to make certain you and your family have a wonderful stay over the summer, as they have done every summer for the past two years—

“I knew I would find you in here,” his voice, clear and steady, echoed through the library bouncing off the walls and the leather bindings of the books which sat on the shelves of the wall, “You’re always in here doing something or another.”

She knew who it was by the sound of his voice, deep and sultry. He always spoke with such precision and so bluntly that even with her eyes closed, she could tell who it was just by the energy that filled the space. Arrogance and tempting were his two most significant qualities and they always filled the room, leaving her to suffocate in his presence.

Quickly, she jumped up and grabbed the letter, crumpling it in her hands. The ink was so fresh it smeared all over her hands with her rush, and when she looked to see him standing under the doorway, she noted that not a thing about him had changed. He stood with that same arrogance in his posture, his eyes were still that deep sea green, and his lips, chin, and jaw were as beautiful (if not more) as the last time she saw him.

Quirking his eyebrows, he couldn’t help himself. “Now I need to know what was in that letter you were writing. Are you in love, my dear Y/N.”

He took a step forward, and she realized he thought she would just hand the letter over to him, like it was his property to be read. And even though it technically was, the letter was now void because he did, in fact, show up for the summer season. While it may have been intended for him, the content of the letter did not matter, and because he expected her to walk over and drop the letter in the palm of his hand, that absolutely infuriated her.

“I will not give this to you,” Y/N shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows. She almost cringed at the tone of her voice, so abrasive and calloused. Harry brought out the worst in her, he really did. Though, she didn’t understand how Harry could make this frustration brew inside of her when the rest of the Styles were so lovely to be around.

In two long strides, Harry was rounding the writing desk and in front of her. He towered over her, reaching for the crumpled letter in her hands and before she could grasp the paper tighter, it slipped beneath her fingertips and he was reading it aloud.

“I thought you said this wasn’t for me, Princess?” Harry wasn’t asking, it was more rhetorical than anything. The mock in his tone sent a heat through her, plummeting up from where her heart dropped in her stomach to the apples of her cheeks.

He held the letter above the both of them, the words still readable even though the ink was smeared on the page. As he read aloud, Y/N wanted to drop to the floor and cover her ears from listening to speak her foolish words out loud. If anything, the letter was an act of catharsis. She probably would have never actually sent it to Harry, even if she said she was going to, but writing the words on the paper and pretending like she was going to send it to him was semi-therapeutic. By the second line, she was jumping in the air like a fish out of water, trying to grasp the letter from his hands so he couldn’t continue. To make matters worse, he was chuckling between words and flashing wide grins in her direction when he paused.

Eventually, the way she was jumping and frantically trying to snatch the letter from him was just as humiliating as the strong words she had put on that piece of paper he held in his hands, so she stopped and turned away from him so that he could not see the look of horror on her face as he finished reading the letter.

Finally, he got to the part where he walked in and startled her from her writing desk, her thoughts coming to an abrupt halt on the paper when his voice echoed throughout the room, and even though he was done reading the letter, she couldn’t bear to look at him. If there was one thing about Harry, he always had the upper hand with her. Always.

“I wish I hadn’t interrupted your thoughts when I came in here a few moments ago. I’m positive the rest of this letter would have been a great read, and you print your thoughts so eloquently, Y/N.” He was trying to get under her skin, even though he knew he had already burrowed himself under the flesh like a mite the second he walked in the room. That was another one of Harry’s traits— he wanted to see just how much he could push her until she snapped, because he loved watching her snap.

“Enough,” she spoke, barely turning to look at him. She caught a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye, enough for her to squint just barely and for him to know she was giving him a dirty look.

“Well, Y/N, clearly this letter was for me. Was it not?” He was doing it; pushing and pressing until the temper within her flicked on a light and her thoughts rifling through her brain started spewing like fire, the world around them turning to ash with each word that fell from her lips and targeted him like a huntsman and its prey. 

“It wasn’t for you—” She began, getting cut off by the prince.

“It clearly says ‘Dear Prince Harry, I am sitting here, writing to y—”

Within under a second, she was turning on her heels to face him once more and trying to pry the letter from his fingers to no avail. She didn’t think she could handle him reading the letter out loud once more, so she covered her ears and began begging him to stop. The worst part was the feeling she had in her gut, the feeling one gets in their gut and their throat before the tears start forming in their eyes. While Harry had many horrid qualities about him, one of her terrible qualities were tears that formed, not out of sadness, but out of anger. Deeply, she inhaled to smooth out her thoughts and quiet her mind. “Stop, stop, stop.”

Grinning like the devil, he spoke slowly and quietly so any chambermaids passing by could not hear the words he was about to speak to her, “Are you embarrassed, Princess? The girl everyone thinks is so ladylike and polite writing words that would tarnish that sweet reputation.”

“I was never going to send it, and I think you know that,” she countered, and even though she knew he knew that letter was never going to leave her possession, she felt like she needed to reiterate that point.

Carefully and slowly—almost painfully slowly— he brought his finger to her cheeks and swiped across to feel the heat radiating off of her skin and she knew he was gaining even more satisfaction at the heat in her cheeks confirming his question, that she was embarrassed by him finding her letter. To rub salt in the wound, he folded the letter up and stuffed it in the pit of his pocket where she would not dare to fish out, as it was not very polite to stick your hand in someone else’s pocket, “For safekeeping,” he stated.

Those two words made her want to do it— stick her hand in his pocket and fish the letter out, tear it to little tiny pieces, and then stomp on the shreds of paper right in front of him, but she wouldn’t do it because she, unlike him, did not lack manners.

“You are absolutely unbearable, Prince. Do not think my opinion on you has changed. I can assure you it has not,” she wanted to get under his skin the way he got under hers, so she added, “Where is your betrothed?” 

He paused for a moment, searching for the words, “I am not to be married, Y/N.”

The tone was cut and brief, not the same tone he had when she was pushing his buttons, but a clear line was drawn showing her this is where the boundary was placed, and as much as she wanted to upset him the way he upset her, Y/N did not want to pick and pry about his presumably failed engagement. Though, she did not blame the girl for not wanting to marry someone with such an insufferable attitude. And maybe, just maybe, she also didn’t want to hear about the girl. She didn’t want Harry to talk about how beautiful she was, or what her hobbies were. She didn’t want to know a thing about her or how she wormed her way into the heart of someone so aloof and out of touch with the idea of love. To put it plainly, she didn’t want to hear about their courtship and what he did to make her swoon.

Y/N would never admit it, but the first time she ever met Harry, she was taken with him. And then he opened his mouth, all-knowing and witty bordering intolerable.

“Well, then,” Y/N didn’t quite know what to say in response, seeming to be more uncomfortable with the idea of him getting married than he was.

With a mere couple inches between them, he leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Soft lips grazed the tops of her ears, a warm heat shooting through her, and though she was disgusted with herself for having such an instinctual reaction to his body and his lips so close to her skin, she was graceful enough to remind herself that it was only natural for her core to stir and her stomach to flip.

And when he finally spoke, his lips moved against her ear, “I am going to enjoy playing with you this summer, Y/N.”

She wanted to scream. She almost did.

Instead she took a step back, gasping and brushing out the wrinkles in her dress, “I absolutely loathe you.”

“I love that you loathe me,” he replied before turning on his heels and walking out of the library.

Y/N knew it was going to be a long summer filled with taunts from Harry.

And much to her dismay, that night she dreamed about his lips pressing against her.

[veroticker]

Bitter rivals - J Sterling

You can buy the book on Amazon.

Summary (from J Sterling’s website)

They say you always want what you can't have. And what I want is Julia La Bella. I'm supposed to hate her with every fiber of my being, but I'll let you in on a little secret.... I don't. Not even close. The woman is stunning. She's also a colossal pain in my- you know what- but even that turns me on.

Julia's my number one competitor in the wine industry and she also happens to live next door. Not a good combination for a guy who's been told to "stay away from her" his whole life. Our parents can't stand each other; a bitter, outdated rivalry with no end in sight. Which doesn't fare well for my heart. Or my loins. Yeah, I went there.

I want her. I've always wanted her. So how am I going to convince her to see me as the super hot, smart, irresistible guy next door, instead of the one person on earth she's supposed to despise? I'm not entirely sure, but we're about to find out.

Wish me luck.

Blurb

““Look at the number of women standing there fawning all over him,” my assistant and best friend since grade school said, her head shaking, as she pointed a finger at my archnemesis across the room. “I’m actually embarrassed to be female right now.”

I pushed her arm down before he noticed and did something mortifying in response, like inform the entire room that I was in love with him or something. I wouldn’t put it past him. James Russo loved to embarrass and humiliate me. He’d been doing it since high school.

“Jeanine! Don’t draw his attention toward us. And I don’t want to look at him, or his fan club.” I groaned even though it was a lie, and she damn well knew it.

James Russo had grown up to be one hell of a gorgeous man. And I absolutely wanted to check him out, maybe even lose myself in a dirty fantasy or two, but I couldn’t admit that part. At least, not out loud. I was supposed to loathe his very existence. Despising James was as much a part of my DNA as my dark hair and Italian heritage.

“You totally want to look at him,” she teased. “Maybe then you’ll see how often he looks at you.”

Pivoting on my brand-new high heel, I turned to face my soon-to-be-former best friend if she didn’t pull it together, “James Russo does not look at me any more than I look at him. We hate each other, and you know this. You’ve always known this. He is the world’s worst human. If there were an award for it, he’d win. Why are you being so weird? Are you drunk?” I glanced around her at our stash of wine bottles still firmly in place on the ground, checking to make sure none were empty.

If anyone knew how much James and I couldn’t stand one another, it was Jeanine. She had grown up with the two of us, had been fully aware of our families’ mutual war, and had been caught in the middle of it on more than one occasion. While she sometimes placated me with subtle jabs and insults in James’s honor, she usually played the role of peacekeeper—or at least, she tried.

“I just wonder when you two will bury the hatchet, is all,” she said for, like, the fourteen thousandth time since we’d been born.

“Never,” I said, giving her the exact same response that I always had.

Burying the hatchet wasn’t an option in my family. Even if I wanted to, which I didn’t, it wasn’t allowed. My dad would disown me completely and make me change my last name before he ever forgave a Russo.

Glancing across the competition space, I spotted James, his dark hair framing his two-week-old stubble as he smiled at a group of women, who, instead of working their own wine booths, looked all too willing to leave and take him to bed if he asked. Not that I cared what James did in his bed or with whom, but damn that facial hair. It would be the death of me. I’d spent one too many nights dreaming of the way it would feel as he dived between my thighs or as he kissed me, brushing across my cheek. That man sure knew how to keep his beard in check—always perfectly trimmed, fading just right toward the top where it met his hairline. It annoyed me as much as it turned me on, which was saying a lot since he was the most annoying human in existence.

“You’ve got a little drool right there.” Jeanine nudged me with her arm, pointing at the corner of her mouth, and I snarled.”

(review under the cut)

Review

(audiobook) It’s a Romeo&Juliet’s type of story: man and woman are from families who’ve hated each other for generations, and they get warnings from their parents that they should never interact. Of course, Fate and Cupid have other plans.

I liked that the story took place in vineyards--and they live next to each other and are rivals in wine making. There aren’t too many details, but there’s some talk about making good wines that got me dying to try them.

Also, as a first, it’s the man who’s been pining for the woman all those years. He’s so in love it’s embarassing.

Very good narration, as usual with those narrators.

The story is an enemies to lovers without all the angst. Yes, there’s the feud, and some miscommunication along the years, but they basically love each other from the start and they just need to find a way to resolve the feud. Once they decide to go out, they make a perfect couple--that the whole town is rooting for!

And you’ll do too, because they’re the sweetest people together.

Quickie

Series: standalone

Hashtags: #enemies-to-lovers #wine #family feud

Triggers: mild family abuse

Main couple: Julia La Bella & James Russo

Hotness: 4/5

Romance: 5/5

+ I want to taste all those delicious wines...

- such a ridiculous reason for a feud

Stalker mode

You can suscribe to J Sterling’s newsletter on her website.

You can also follow her on Facebook.

[rueitae]

2018 Fic Roundup

I did this last year and it was nice to do some self reflection and make some goals for 2019. I encourage all my writer friends to do this! No tagging necessary, just tell each other to do it. <3

It’s long, so putting the rest of the fic and reflection questions under the cut.

Stats:

Fics Posted (Gen): 6

Space Birthday (9,595 words): Hunk can feel it in his bones; it’s his birthday. He wants to have a nice one... and does... after accidentally raiding a Galra outpost with Lance and Pidge.

Pilot (4,340): Shiro finds himself in a different reality post s2. Here, the mechs are called Gundams. (Shiro in the Gundam Wing universe/reality)

Code (7,321): Pidge and the others keep fond memories of Earth through oldies musical trivia. It comes in handy on a mission.

Self Insert (6,357): Lance reads a story to his niece and nephew on the eve he leaves for school at the Galaxy Garrison. The kids have Opinions on how it should go.(i totally still need to change their names to the canon ones)

Too Soon and Not Soon Enough (1,796): Keith is 13 and is supposed to go to the Galaxy Garrison next year at Shiro’s encouragement. Until the Galra invade and plans change.

Welcome to the Neighborhood (2,237): Allura gets used to being not dead and that includes meeting her cosmic neighbors.

Fics Posted (Plance): 17

Wrong Diamond (2,384): Gentlemen thief AU. “At midnight, I will steal the heart of Voltron,” the note says. Pidge has a thief to catch.

Diamond in the Rough (8,045): prequel to Wrong Diamond. How they meet!

Road Trip (4,710): Lance and Pidge are back on Earth. Zarkon has the others and the two are on the run from a bureaucratic Galaxy Garrison that doesn’t want the world to know about aliens yet. Oh, and Lotor is with them.

Exsanguination (16,255): Pidge is a vampire hunter captured by Haggar. She finds some unlikely help in the vampire’s similarly undead servant.

Power Up! (3,500): Pidge is on the cusp of finding out where Zarkon is holding her father using less than legal methods. She’s caught in the act by her lab partner (Lance, a superhero in training).

Plance on Ice (2,300): A figure skating AU! Pidge and Lance are former competitive partners having a date free time on the ice

Being Plance (3,900): Pidge and Lance pull a personality switch prank over on the rest of the team. Canon verse.

Keeping Cool (3,098): Mermaid AU! Pidge is in trouble with pirates and gets some unexpected help from the sea.

The Cake (839): Canon verse, Lance gets a cake for his birthday and assumes it’s from Hunk.

Frostbite (6,109): Pidge is a renowned super villain. Lance is a hero in training with something to prove. Lance over uses his powers one day and Pidge has some soul searching to do.

Crystal Clear (5,516): Another superhero AU. Lance is captured by his arch nemesis. They have a heart-to-heart, taunt, and flirt.

The Secrets of Beasts (2,007): AU canon verse. Years down the road, Green keeps Pidge from going on a mission with the others. It takes Kosmo to find out why.

See You Yesterday (8,132): Lance works nervously as a bartender for a 1920s mafia when all he wanted to do was leave the farming life. One night he gets a strange patron who changes his life - and his perspective of the world. Time travel AU

Shot Through the Heart (1,087): post canon AU. Lance and Pidge keep Nadia and Sylvio entertained.

Seasons of Magic (11,744): Pidge is a mage. Lance is her dragon familiar. Series of domestic-ish one shots. Not in sequential order.

Between Rocks and A Hard Place (8,144): Canon verse. Pidge and Lance are trapped due to a caved-in mine, with pirates waiting for them on the other side. And Pidge is hurt.

Cow-parent Trapped (1,099): s8 canon continuation. Pidge visits Lance at the farm and does not expect Kaltenecker to make them talk to each other.

Lotura 1

Birthday Prompt #5 (5,500): Oh gosh I never named it. Fantasy AU in which Lotor is essentially Rapunzel and Allura is Aurora with a better (depending on who you ask) birth-prophesy. Tiny hint of Shallura in this as well.

Collaborations: 3

First Encounters for the (Altean Plance AU): Pidge is an independent noblewoman and Lance is her bodyguard. Writing done with @hushman and @pidge-suggestions

To Sail, To Break, To Earn (Plance - 10,268): Lance is a pirate and Pidge is a mermaid. There’s also a curse involved. With @sp4c3-0ddity

It’s Beginning to Look a lot Like A Christmas Carol (Plance- 14,384): post s8 canon verse with @hailqiqi and @sp4c3-0ddity. Exactly as the title says. Lance is the subject of a ghostly intervention. Crack treated seriously.

Fey AU (Plance): with @vivalachocolate this was @sp4c3-0ddity ‘s prompt to Viva but I was nosy and added a chapter and I’m so glad she wasn’t mad at me for it. 😅

Ship/Character breakdown:

Ship breakdown:

I guess the 17 Plance fics speak for themselves. I did write one Lotura fic as a special birthday prompt because @ritsykitty is such a good friend.

Character breakdown:

I have a gen fic for each Paladin, but then the Plance fics outnumber those, so Lance and Pidge would be my go to.

Characters that had the main focus:

So for character POV, each Paladin has one, then within Plance, Pidge has 12 and Lance has 7. Interesting, I thought it was more even. Hunk had a POV in a Plance fic too briefly!

Specifics:

Best/worst title?

Best title: Urgh I liked a lot of them. Too Soon and Not Soon Enough probably. I like how it summarizes the story without telling you how, but by the end you know.

Worst title: Seasons of Magic aka I tried to come up with a clever title when I realized I wasn’t done with it. It’s so bland to me. I’m also basically trying to rebrand from mage/familiar AU. I don’t think it’s working 😅 (not that I care I’m trying to make it easier to reference but I’m too late)

Best/worst last line?

Best: “I love you too, Pidge,” he [Lance] says, nestling her head to his chest and not bothering to correct her. “You’re the best nemesis a hero could ask for.” - I love that line so much, from Crystal Clear. Enemies to lovers is such a good trope.

Worst: Pidge groans. At this rate her double life is definitely doomed to unravel. - for how much I love Frostbite, I really hate how lame it ends. Like I totally could have said that better or continued the scene a bit but I am LAZY.

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

I wrote waaaaaaay more than expected. I figured I’d write something every few months. Now I can write a 2k fic in a setting if I’m on game.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I was just doing gen fic last year, never would I have expected to be so taken by Plance that it became my main muse.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Honestly? Probably Pilot. It was one of my earliest VLD fic ideas to do a Gundam Wing crossover and to actually finish a one shot early in the year (when I was still dipping my feet into fandom again) just made me so so happy. I still smile thinking about the continuation possibilities. One of my favorite parts of Shiro’s character is that he is the ace pilot. Because of Keith’s role that sometimes gets overshadowed. I was so pleased to get to highlight that.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

On Ao3, that would be Exsanguination. No surprise there, it was my first posted Plance fic and I continued it.

On Tumblr it’s First Encounters, the first of the Altean Plance AU based on the art and headcanons. I was just struck with a clear opening image one afternoon and wrote it all right then and there. I had no idea it would be so well received.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

Space Birthday. It may have been a bit of a mess since it was my very first VLD fic, but it has everything I love. Hunk bonding with an ‘enemy’ over cooking, Team Punk, Plance in distress, Hunk saves the day thanks to mechanics. Also heartfelt stuff with Keith. And he’s the only Paladin besides Lance to get an actual birthday themed fic from me.

Story that could have been better?

I really hate to say Wrong Diamond, but I totally could have done much better with it. It feels skimpy. Probably why I am still writing in the AU.

Sexiest story?

Ha. That would be a tie between Crystal Clear and Exsanguination. The first I actually tried and the second completely by accident. I’m not sure it worked though.

Saddest story?

All my sad fics have a bit of crack to them. Pilot is pretty melancholy. Crystal Clear has a good Plance argument that gets heated. Road Trip in general though might take the cake. It’s full of angst amid some humor due to the premise.

Most fun?

Shot Through the Heart in terms of tone.

Story with single sweetest moment? Space Birthday

"Uh, Keith, hold up a tic."

Confused, Keith turned back around. "What?"

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck. "So uh, you know we're friends right? Like, I meant what I said we're like brothers. We're tight. I mean, we share a mind inside of a giant robot."

Keith blinked, clearly surprised. "Yeah, I kinda got that from the hug you gave me back then. It was nice," he said with a smile. "And we work well together."

"Yeah so - wait what? No, I'm supposed to be giving you the pep talk here."

"It's fine, Hunk. I'm doing important work and so are you. I already had this talk with Allura."

"Oh. Well, what I'm trying to say is that we're friends. I care a lot about you and your feelings. So if I say something that's weird or you don't like, you gotta tell me. I'm a terrible and nosy person and I'm sorry."

Keith stood silent, processing the words, and then smiling. "I've accepted the side of me that's Galra," he said simply. "It's still a little weird, but I've always had this feeling that something didn't add up." He smiled a bit. "I don't mind a question or two, but I'm still learning myself."

"Deal, no Galra questions for a while then. Just as long as you come visit more often, okay? We all miss you.

"...hug it out?"

Keith snorted and obliged into Hunk's waiting arms. "Always."

Hardest story to write?

I struggled with the ending to Exsanguination. It took forever to come to me.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

I wrote The Secrets of Beasts in one setting and I still can’t believe how easily it came out. I blame the Plance discord folks for putting everyone on a baby craze.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Not particularly? I write based on my existing understanding of the characters and nothing really surprised to that note.

Most overdue story?

Welcome to the Neighborhood. I wanted to write that Allura gen fic all year (as I wanted one for all the Paladins) and I hoped s8 would give me the motivation. It was not worth the cost.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Collaborations! And participating in a zine! And signing up for events (exchanges and bangs)! I learned that it’s not that scary. People are chill and so easy to get along with. Also the task isn’t as daunting as I think of it’s an idea I love.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

This is hard because I’m already doing above and beyond what I ever expected to be doing writing wise. I suppose it will be to finish my gen fic since I’ve been writing a lot of plance lately.

[loganscove]

I am adding all of the prompts to this under the cut. Someone asked me to do so because they are going to be offline most of the month. I am happy to oblige.

What is the beginning of the journey? Pick a card and decide if your story starts with a bang, or starts soft and sweet.

Choose a card with an animal on it. Figure out a way to incorporate the meaning of the card and the animal into your story.

Choose a card and google it; find a long passage and take the third and fifth sentences. Use every word - bonus points if you manage to use them in order!

Choose a card. You must use the meaning, but you have some caveats! If it is a Major Arcana you must do a word sprint equivalent to the number on the card (ex. If you pull strength, you do either eight minutes or eleven minutes depending on which deck you own.) If you pull a sword, you must do the number times fifty words before you can stop; a wand meant times one-hundred; a pentacle means times one-hundred-fifty; and a cup means times two-hundred. Good luck!

Find the card you think has the most terrible meaning in the entire deck. Study the card and come up with a way to incorporate it in a way that is good for the character.

Pull two cards at random. Choose one to be a character to put into your novel.

Take one of the court cards and decide how this person could be your character’s mother or father.

Choose three cards and take a quick glance at them for symbols. Choose the first three you see and incorporate them into your writing.

Choose a character of yours and have them write a journal entry based on two cards you pull.

Take two cards that seem to conflict and use them to drive the scene forward.

Find a song that either mentions tarot or has a tarot card name and write to that songs and whatever songs come up as “suggested” from it.

Draw a card and see what time of day it is. Use that in your next scene.

Your main character has a revelation; draw a card and use your first thought!

Draw a card and use the inverted meaning to bring your plot forward.

Today you need to take a break, draw your favourite card and use it in your scene somehow. Afterwords, take a long break for you.

Go back in time, let’s learn about your character’s nth birthday. Choose a card and write a scene using the number from the card and the meaning.

Draw the seventh card and use the meaning to give your character some good luck!

It’s time to make some friends. Draw a card and using only the image, make a character for your main character to make friends with!

Choose three cards. Pick adjectives from the cards and use them in the order you drew!

Draw a card. Use the weirdest symbol in your scene!

Find a card with a fire. Use the meaning to help tell you why there is a fire in this scene.

Draw a card and write a joke off of the meaning of the card. Draw more cards if you can’t figure out the punch line!

Draw three cards, these three become wise sages who give advice. Are they any good at it.

Look through your deck until you find food, and have a snack - you or the characters.

Look through your deck until you find a cup card. The person, or the scene is involved with your character getting coffee or tea. You should grab a cup too!

Choose three cards. Start a fight, with two characters arguing card one and two, the third card is the real truth!

Look up a word-of-the-day. Go through your deck until you find a card that makes you think of that word. Use both in today’s scene.

You’re almost done. Choose five cards and write word sprints in minutes correlated to the numbers. (Ace of Wands? One minute! Lovers? Six minutes!)

Choose five cards and decide on verbs for those cards. Use them in the order that you drew the cards.

Finish writing. At midnight, draw two cards. The first is you, the other is your novel. Figure out how you feel.

22 major arcana optional prompts

The Fool - A dog appears to lead your MC into the next adventure.

The Magician - A children’s birthday party goes awry.

High Priestess - A religious scandal happens.

The Empress - Someone is pregnant.

The Emperor - A High class or important person appears in the next chapter!

Heirophant - A religious scandal happens.

The Lovers - Two choices, either two friends of the opposite sex are having trouble getting people to believe they’re just friends - or two characters are having trouble convincing people they’re actually in love.

The Chariot - a high speed chase happens. Story doesn’t have cars? Get creative! High Speed dragon chase! Literal Chariots! A foot race!

Strength - A character gets trapped under something and another character gets mom-strength to save them.

The Hermit - a character who has been missing for several chapters finally comes back, OR shelf a character for 5 chapters minimum.

Wheel of Fortune - A gameshow is on a tv in the background OR your characters end up on a game show.

Justice - The police show up. If they bring justice is up to you.

The Hanged Man - a conversation is brought to a sudden halt, as if they are hung up on.

Death - someone is brought back to life.

Temperance - the sweetest character in the whole novel loses their cool.

The Devil - draw 13 cards and use them to write your next chapter.

The Tower - someone trips and has a terrible fall.

The Star - A famous person is brought to their knees.

The Moon - cheese is a key component in this chapter.

The Sun - The weather takes a sudden turn.

Judgement - Take a moment to write about your MC from their worst enemy’s POV

The World - A person on the street calls out about the end of the world!

[booksloversworld]

🔥HOT NEW RELEASE🔥 We are thrilled to celebrate that the QUARANTINED SERIES DISCREET COVERS by @drethianis are now LIVE! https://mybook.to/QuarantineSeries Quarantined Book 1 THIS IS BOOK 1 OF A THREE-PART SERIES AND NOT A STANDALONE.  A gripping, friends-to-lovers-to-enemies, dark romance. New York City—not for the faint-hearted or the sweetest of souls. The last thing I expected was to be back in this city, after all these years. And I definitely did not expect to be back in this house, where it all started. I have spent years avoiding this place, and the cold hard reality of what happened here. But I have no choice. We are all quarantined together in this house. It took the end of the world, for me to come back here and face him. Milo Sinclair. Once my legal guardian and savior in life. The person who saved me from drowning in loneliness. Who gave me everything I ever wanted. But then he took everything away from me. Plus interest. He broke me. He will not break me again. Isolation Book 2 THIS IS BOOK 2 OF A THREE-PART SERIES AND NOT A STANDALONE.  Milo: “There is nothing worse in this life than being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back. This is what I am when I am around her. Her hero when she accepts me. Her biggest nightmare when she rejects me. I have come to that conclusion. I can’t fight it. I can’t explain it to her because I could never explain it to myself either.” Raven: “The truth is, I have always been slow to react. I don’t lash out because I need time to analyze things at my own speed. People perceive that being mature, wise beyond my age. I am not. I’m indecisive and emotional. I am flawed, and I don’t want to cover it up as anything else.” Essential Book 3 THIS IS BOOK 3 OF A THREE-PART SERIES AND NOT A STANDALONE. An extended epilogue book to conclude Milo & Raven's epic love story. Milo: Our lives have changed. Our worst moments and biggest secrets are used as leverage against us. People want to force us apart in the name of the greater good. Maybe they’re right; maybe we are each other’s villains and not heroes. But that doesn’t change anything because it’s her or no one! *Triggers warning are in commeny* https://www.instagram.com/p/CnGMGptocnZ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=