#carefully curated while driving in my car

[thebroccolination]

People Think Krist Is Homophobic (but He Isn’t)

[TW: discussions of homophobia, death threats, "the rape filter joke", etc.]

Last September, I made a thread about The Whole Krist Thing, and I'd like to make a version here on Tumblr as well.

NOTE: My being a queer fan of Krist doesn’t override the feelings or opinions of other queer people. I fully understand that time on this planet is limited and you don't need to exert precious energy into researching an actor. The reason I'm making this is to provide context for people who are new to the fandom or just wondering why Krist is known as homophobic.

- Why I Made the Twitter Thread -

As a queer international fan living abroad, my understanding of Thailand, Thai culture, and Thai language is extremely limited. Like most of us, I rely entirely on translations, both official and fan-made.

After watching SOTUS for the first time in 2020, I saw English-speaking fans claiming that Krist Perawat, the actor who played Arthit, was homophobic. And it wasn't just one or two people saying it. It was dozens. Hundreds. That called for some research. I loved Arthit, and Krist's empathetic portrayal of him didn't mesh with the angry guy in the Instagram photo I was seeing passed around.

I'd made a number of queer Peraya fans on Twitter, so I went to them individually and asked, "What's this about Krist being homophobic?" As queer fans who were knowledgable and openly fond of Krist, I wanted to hear their side of things.

They sent me links and photos and videos and translations that thoroughly explained how Krist's reputation for being homophobic had gotten so out of control. The problem: those things weren't compiled in one place, and they were all on Twitter where the Asian Peraya fandom is most active. Interfans, meanwhile, took the worst of everything they could find and compiled it into contextless videos for Instagram, YouTube, TikTok, etc. Since the vast majority of Krist's fanbase is spread across Asia and many of them don't engage with the international fandom, it's no wonder to me that the homophobia thing has become so ubiquitous over the years.

It's a paradox where, in order to see the evidence of Krist's allyship, you kind of have to be a fan already. Or you have to know which keywords to use to navigate Twitter's nightmare of a search function (I know, Tumblr is worse). While I made that thread, I was regularly texting Peraya I knew things like, "Do you know where that one interview from 2019 is?" or, "Did you take a screenshot of the marriage equality post he made last month?"

The thread was difficult to make, and I'm a fan! What I know of Krist, I know because I've been a fan for three years and I have access to information that fans who have been here much longer can find.

I also procrastinated on making it for ages. I knew the amount of vitriol people hold against him, and I just wanted to enjoy my time in fandom quietly without calling waves of anger and hate to my carefully curated little corner of sunshine.

Then Krist was in a car accident.

And even though he was reportedly driving safely and slowly, Thailand is notorious for its poorly maintained roads and a high number of traffic accidents. Only months after receiving his first driver's license, Krist's car flipped upside down, and he had to reassure fans from the hospital that he was physically all right, just shaken.

Meanwhile, some international fans thought it was funny.

And that's when I started making the thread.

So, with all that said, let's start with Krist's allyship, because I know most of us agree that that's the bare minimum for an actor working in the BL industry and profiting off the queer community.

- Acts of Allyship -

In the early days of their SOTUS fame, Krist and Singto were interviewed about the LGBTQ+ community.

Acceptance and equality is something that the LGBTQ community still struggles to achieve up to this day. But both Singto and Krist believe that this should not be the case. “They are just humans. They are like me, and they are like everyone,” Krist claims. Furthermore, he mentions that we should all be given the freedom to love anyone we want to love. “It’s just natural,” he says.

“They don’t have to understand now,” Singto says, referring to those who can’t grasp same-sex relationships. “One day, when they find their true love, they will realize that love is the same no matter the gender.” Krist adds, “Gender is not relevant when it comes to love. But in case some people still don’t understand this in time, what’s important is that we all give due respect to each other at the end of the day.”

He's also educated himself in colors representative of the LGBTQ+ community.

When Krist and Singto attended an award ceremony for their photoshoot in the gay magazine Attitude, Krist shared a sentiment that he gave to a queer friend of his. "If no one accepts you, you can stay with me, because I accept you for who you are." [Paraphrased]

Despite Thailand's current government leaning on BL series as a new soft power, it's still very conservative, and its people are to this day fighting to see equal marriage recognized.

Krist often adds his voice to this fight on Instagram, specifically as someone who works in the BL industry. These were in 2021 and 2022:

And, like many young people in Thailand, Krist also seems to support the Move Forward party. Earlier this week, he used an orange heart in a tweet to encourage people to go out and vote in the most recent election. One of the many things the Move Forward party is pushing for is the legalization of same-sex marriage "with the same rights and responsibilities as their heterosexual peers", which the current military government actively does not.

- His Circle -

When I was making my Twitter thread, I hesitated before including mention of his queer friends and coworkers. I knew how that would sound, but in the same way I felt it was important to mention my own queerness, I also think it's important to highlight not just the presence of queer people in his life, but how comfortable they are with him.

As I said in my Twitter thread, having queer friends isn’t indicative of anything substantial, but I do think it’s important to look at how those queer friends interact with him. If you’re queer, you know firsthand which friends you’d be physically affectionate with. The entertainment industry is its own world, of course, and the weight and meaning of relationships and connections can be different, but for all Krist's fame and popularity, he's not so famous or remotely powerful that faking a friendship with him is going to get them very far.

Among his queer friends, you've got Jennie who babies him, Godji who treats him like her son, and Oat who still adores him years after SOTUS. All of them queer, all of them visibly affectionate in a way that feels authentic, at least to me.

On the professional side of things, I think the best example of someone who wouldn't bother with him if he were homophobic is Golf Tanwarin Sukkhapisit. In 2022, Krist worked on The War of Flowers with Golf, a nonbinary queer activist, former MP, and director of The Eclipse. Since they're not just a queer person in the industry but a vocal queer activist who's made incredible progress for the community in their country, I value their judgment of his character.

Again, the reason I bring up these people isn't to say, "Look! Queer people! He knows some!"

It's to point out that he's close to them, and it disrespects their judgment to casually assume that they’d cosy up to a homophobe.

It's a small point, yes, but it was important to me when I first became a fan to see that queer people who know him personally had "vetted" him.

- Growth -

For this next section, I'll address three things I see brought up most often: the rape filter joke, the rumor that Krist said he doesn't like watching men kiss, and the claim that he's only doing BL because rent is due.

1) The Rape Filter Joke

In 2017, Krist and Singto were on a live with (I think) two other friends. They were testing out different filters, and when they got to a blur effect, one of them (one of the friends, I think) said it looked like the filter they put over victims of sexual assault on the news. They all laughed, including Krist and Singto.

I can't find a video of the original event, but we do have a translation of the apology he gave in 2018, and the public apology he made in 2020 when the video resurfaced again.

While this is unfortunate, and it would be nice if he hadn’t done it, I’m more interested in how he responds to criticism and his growth afterward. The incident was in 2017, but even speaking on it in 2020, he didn't make excuses for himself.

He apologized, accepted culpability, educated himself, and has never repeated it.

2) Krist "Doesn't Like to Watch Men Kiss"

There's also a claim that goes around that Krist said he doesn't like to watch men kiss. But that isn't what he said.

The subtitled interview that this claim was taken from has been split into two parts, and I think a lot of people have only seen the first half, if they've seen either.

(Also, my deepest apologies, but I'm linking you to Twitter for the video clips.)

In the first clip, the hosts tease Krist about Singto's sex scene with another actor in Close Friends. I can't speak to the nuances of what Krist is saying in Thai, but in the subtitles, he's basically saying that as a guy, he doesn't want to watch stuff like that and just skips past Singto and his partner to one of the other couples, like the male-female pairs. With just this clip, I agree that it doesn't sound great.

But in the second clip, the hosts tease Krist until he admits that the "stuff" he doesn't want to watch is Singto specifically kissing people who aren't him. Krist's jealousy, especially when it comes to Singto, is a well-trod fanservice joke.

3) He's Doing BL Only for the Money

I mean, I have no idea, but it'd be very weird if this was true, because he hasn't been in a BL since 2018 (if you count Our Skyy), and he's doing very well for himself financially.

Listen, this is probably the least serious people get when they criticize him, but I'm including it because why not, this is already a thesis.

From what I understand based on actors' comments, BL roles don't make a lot of money for the actors. (Boun even quoted a surprisingly low daily salary recently, and I'll share it here if I find it again.) Of course, I imagine Krist has enough fame and clout that he gets paid more than most actors, but to be frank, he absolutely makes more from all his other work.

Apart from the acting work he's done, he hosts two music shows, he starred in a musical recently, GMM just flew him to Japan for the first leg of his Asia concert tour, he runs a restaurant with Wave, and he has a bunch of sponsorships. And that's off the top of my head. The car from his accident in 2021 was a luxury model, and he replaced it with another pretty soon afterward. I'm not bragging for him or anything, but the "he's just doing BL for the money" is an odd thing to say when he probably already earns more than most without doing it.

It would have been a better argument back in 2016 when Krist's family was deep in debt. Krist's said that his main motivation to join the entertainment industry back then was to pay off that debt for his family, and he did so with the money he made from SOTUS.

Krist has spoken in the past about wanting to do more BL roles, but GMM preferred that he work with Singto. Now that Singto's left GMM (likely to start his own agency), Krist is in Be My Favorite, so I think his explanation tracks.

It's also worth mentioning that you can do something for the money and also love what you do. In the case of SOTUS, Arthit wasn't just a role that made him money, he's the character who changed Krist's life. He honors Arthit to this day by always wearing the bracelet he wore to his audition and by naming his music studio "SUN St." after Arthit.

(This is a very minor point, but I don't think a homophobe would cherish a queer role to quite that extent even if it was their kick-off point. If anything, they'd probably try to bury the role and pretend their real success started later.)

- Perception of Sexuality -

I think the reason the IG story hits people so hard is because Krist's reaction makes it seem like he's horrified that people could even think he's gay. My understanding is that he was tired of people interrogating him about his sexuality.

Krist is very openly affectionate with the people he loves, regardless of gender, which is clear in the photos with his friends above. Thus, he's always been like that with Singto. They hug before every show, they sleep on each other, cuddle, what have you. All the stuff of people who have developed a tight bond over the years.

When Krist was asked if he was afraid that that would put off potential partners in the future (which, good god, the questions they're asked) Krist said he doesn't care how people perceive his sexuality.

This was in 2018, the year Our Skyy aired, and he's said similar things in passing before and since.

- Conclusion -

All of what I've posted here is just a slice of what's out there. This is just the stuff I could find with reliable English translations because I'm making this for an English-speaking audience. Krist's fans already know all of this, which is why he has queer fans in the first place, and a lot of them are just too tired by hate fatigue to keep correcting misinformation.

I'm not trying to get every person in the world to like Krist, I promise. He's not perfect. He's a loud mess, and while he has four cats who love him, they're also exhausted by him. I just happen to like loud, obnoxious people, especially when they're as kind as he is.

There are plenty of Thai actors I don't vibe with for any number of reasons ranging from serious to petty. You have my written permission to dislike some people.

The Instagram story he posted was a bad move, we're all agreed. He agrees. He's apologized multiple times over the years. Whether one accepts his apologies is each person’s right, and I understand if this is enough to turn people away.

I just hope it's clear that he's been a staunch ally of the queer community and remains so to this day.

Personally, I'm more upset about the question.

This isn't a question you ask anyone.

And this wasn't the first fan to ask him.

According to people who have been fans from the SOTUS era, Krist and Singto were both relentlessly dogged by fans about 1) their sexualities and 2) details about their relationship with each other. We've all likely seen it happen to actors today, but back in 2016, there weren't hundreds of BL actors vying for the spotlight, so the spotlight hit Krist and Singto in a way that we can't imagine today. Most of us, myself included, arrived in this fandom long after SOTUS's meteoric rise to popularity that ended up saving GMMTV from bankruptcy, but given how many fans still behave like they're entitled to know an actor's sexuality, I think it's safe to trust that it was relentless. Fans accusing Kit Connor of "queerbaiting" as recently as 2022 is proof of that.

At the end of the day, there are plenty of reasons to dislike Krist, just like there are to dislike any person on this planet. He's hyperactive, he's whiny, etc. He's not flawless, but I think he's more than shown through his actions that he isn't homophobic, either.

He's not some actor playing queer roles for clout. He's vocally supportive of queer rights, and he backed that up this week in the polls by voting for the most progressive party in his country who are actively pushing for marriage equality.

But like I said, you don't have to like him, so I'll end this post with a quote from a friend who doesn't like Krist for the funniest reason I've ever heard:

"I don't think Krist is homophobic. I just don't like him because he reminds me of every kindergartener who demanded my attention at the exact moment when I was carrying something that could spill – and then it did spill, and they laughed about it for five minutes."

#krist perawat #be my favorite #if you made it to the end then i love you #thai actor #thai bl

[underoossss]

Dress - S.H

paring: steve harrington x f!reader

MODERN STEVE AU

warnings: minors dni!!!! this is rated M and it’s for 18+ ONLY, if you don’t have your age specified in your blog and interact I’ll block u bc this isn’t for you. (rated this mature so check your settings in case you can't read it).

an: *posts this and disappears* it’s the first time I’m writing something like this. It’s set in the modern day, and inspired by dress by t swift. There’s no plot? I mean there is bc it’s a friends to lovers getting together fic. But it’s also not a complete smut piece? I’m just playing around with the genre here and I hope you like it.

Masterlist

——

The sound of high heels clicking on concrete follows you home, four pairs of high heels to be exact. Your group of friends consisting on Nancy, Robin and Mae had agreed on a girls night out to a fancy restaurant tonight, and after a fun night the four of you now walk back to your apartment to wind down for a bit. The wind has a bite to it, but none of you wear jackets. Instead you brave the wind until you see your apartment building in the distance. It was a fun time for everyone tonight, the food had been great, the conversation fun an entertaining and after weeks of not managing to make your schedules work, having a night for yourselves was needed. You’d even refused to make plans with Steve, your best friend, in favour of going out with them. In retrospect though, it was the best thing you could do as you needed some space from him. He’s been on holiday for a few months, with lots of free time which means the two of you spend a lot of time together. Hanging out with him more often than usual has made your feelings for him —the ones you’ve harboured for years— come to the surface and simmer under your skin every time he looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes of his. Yes, space is exactly what you need.

The four of you are all a bit more carefree after two cocktails each, not drunk or tipsy, but happier. The carpeted floor of the hallway swallows the clicking of your heels as all of you walk out of your building’s elevator on the fifth floor and wait outside your door. You fish your keys out of your clutch and unlock it, gesturing everyone to go in first before you lock the door behind you and follow them. Robin immediately goes to the kitchen to plug in her phone to your charger and connects her Spotify to your Bluetooth speaker. Soon enough a carefully curated playlist of all your favourite songs begins to play, making all of you start to sing along. Your voices remain relatively quiet though, not as loud as they would be if you were driving in your car; the last thing you need is a noise complaint from the building. Besides, it’s late and you’re sure most of your neighbours are asleep. All of you dance around and sing, feeling safer and more carefree doing so in your living room than at a dark night club where any pervert can ruin your night.

Your mind goes to Steve despite you trying to distance your thoughts from him, as you sing along to the music. If he was yours, your boyfriend, you could go out with him and experience a night club for the first time without any fear; knowing he’s there and that the only hands that’d be on your body would be his as the two of you danced. As if conjured by your thoughts the song that Robin played ends and a very familiar one starts.

“YOUR SONG!” Robin says loudly and your friends laugh while trying to shush her. “Come on you gotta sing it, the stage is yours.”

“Okay. Okay.” You laugh as she presents you with the TV remote as if it’s a microphone. You clear your through agreeing to sing the song to indulge her. It doesn’t hurt though, that it’s your favourite and the object of your affections immediately comes to mind.

All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

My hands are shaking from holding back from all this.

You don’t sing too loudly and mostly stick to mouthing the lyrics as the melody picks up momentum. It is only when the chorus starts that you sing, emotion thick in your voice, and your friends join you.

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off.

A carefree laugh escapes you as your friends cheer, knowing fully well who you’re thinking about. They’ve known about your feelings for Steve since the moment they started, always urging you to take a chance which you’re always against.

“Did you?” Nancy asks, raising an eyebrow at you. You know exactly what she’s asking.

You laugh and blush as you nod. The little black dress you wear was bought on a whim one day. You’d been trying on clothes for another work event but decided to buy a dress for a night out too. You’d felt good in it and honestly, you’d looked hot. Standing in front of the mirror tonight, the image of you and Steve hand in hand going to dinner together was also so clear in your mind. His jacket over your shoulders as you walk out of the restaurant, and his hands on your body the minute he closed the door to your apartment. You know it would never, happen but every time you wear it you can’t help but go back to the same daydream and wish it could be true. It’s not that you’re only thirsty for him. No, this thing you feel for Steve didn’t start as something physical. You’d fallen in love head over heels, with no way of ever falling back out of love, and then he’d begun to invade your dreams and your thoughts. The softest ones and the more sinful ones too.

“You look hot, that dingus would take it off if he had the guts to!” Robin tells you, unplugging her phone and holding it in front of you.

Mae the voice of reason speaks up. “Post it to close friends Robin. We don’t want anyone else to see this!”

“Yeah, Steve would kill you.” Nancy says to Robin, gesturing towards you. “This is too much.”

You laugh. As if Steve would care, you think. You’re pretty sure you’re friend zoned for life.

Indulging your friends you sing the chorus again, looking at Robin’s phone knowing her close friends are just the people in the room with you. Your hands go over the material of your dress and you smile while you sing, thinking about Steve. It makes your friends laugh and cheer for you.

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off.

“Tell him!!” Robin yells as your friends cheer you on, it makes you laugh again.

You entertain the idea, telling Steve and coming clean about your feelings. What would he do? What would he say? Would he feel the same way? No, there’s no way. He hasn’t shown romantic interest in you. He’s gentle and loving in a way a best friend is; considerate and mindful of your feelings. He supports your interests just as you support his, he’s affectionate and kind, but that’s where it ends. It’s friendship, that’s all. Besides you love Steve too much, there’s no way you’re risking it by telling him about your feelings.

The song ends shortly after that and new one starts immediately after. It’s enough to get all of you to dance and forget the previous song, and the feelings it brought back to the surface. With your friends all a little buzzed, it’s easy to sing and dance without a care; taking turns to hold the TV remote as a microphone while you do. That is, until Robin speaks up a few minutes later.

“Fuck.” She curses loudly, her phone clutched in her hands. All of you stop your singing to look at her.

“What happened?” You ask, dread settling on your stomach. The look on her face tells you is nothing good.

“Don’t kill me, but I posted it to my story by accident!” Robin grimaces, “Not to my close friends.”

“DELETE IT! DELETE IT!” Mae yells at Robin while you panic. It’s not been long, no one must have seen it, it’s late anyways.

“Delete it now, please.” You tell her, hovering over her shoulder to see her do it. But not before recognizing Steve’s icon at the bottom of the screen. Steve saw it.

“No way.” You whisper. Fuck, why did he have to see it?

There’s no way he’ll know it’s about him right? Right? But you mind still reels with what just happened. Did you just ruin everything, between both of you. Did a mistake like that just cost you your friendship with Steve? How are you going to face him now. He’s never ever seen you like that and for good reason, because it would always be about him.

Mae’s hands hold your shoulders, urging you to stop your pacing. “Calm down, breathe!”

“There, it’s gone. I just deleted it.” Robin says, throwing her phone to the other side of the couch for good measure.

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“He won’t know it was about him.” Nancy reassures you with a smile. “Worst case scenario, he’ll just think you have a crush on someone.”

“Do you really think so?” You worry, worrying your lip with your teeth. “What if he never talks to me again because of this?”

“There’s no way,” Mae reassures you. “Your friendship is too important to both of you for him to throw it away, and if he does then screw him.”

“Oh she wants to,” Robin says from the couch and suddenly all tension leaves you as all of you laugh. “Come on, you guys have to help me with my drama.” She urges between laughs.

An hour later the girls all leave together and you’re alone in your apartment. You check their shared location and confirm they’re on their right way home before you begin to put the trash from the living room away. The apartment is quiet, only your footsteps and the sound of sealing snack bags back up can be heard. You’re actively trying to forget about the fact that Steve saw you singing Dress –your real favourite song not the one you’ve told him is your favourite– in such an uninhibited way. You can’t even be mad a Robin for what she did, she’s one of your best friends. Besides, it was only a mistake and you’re sure nothing will happen because of it. Everything will be okay. Right?

The doorbell ringing brings you out of your thoughts and you frown. It’s nearly 1am and you know it’s not your friends who’ve turned back around; they’re too far away to have returned so fast. After walking to the door, you look through the peephole and spot no one other than Steve standing outside.

“Stevie?” You open the door, confused beyond words, heart thrumming loudly on your chest.

“Hey babe. You look pretty.” His eyes are soft, like they always are when he looks at you. He’s like a dream in front of you in light washed jeans, a plain white t-shirt and nikes. His hair looks soft, forming perfect brown waves that shine in the dim light of your apartment. Your hands itch to touch it and see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“It’s 1am what are you doing here?” You step back and let him in, ignoring the compliment so you don’t blurt out something you shouldn’t. Like ‘you’re absolutely gorgeous’. “Is something wrong?”

“No not at all.” He shakes his head, “I just missed you.”

“You missed me?” You raise your eyebrows. “You saw me this morning.

“I know I just…” Steve begins but he stops talking. His eyes look away from yours and he walks towards the kitchen instead, hands going to his hair.

“What?” You prod, confused by his whole demeanour. He looks nervous and you can’t imagine why, you hope it’s nothing bad. “Stevie, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“I saw Robin’s story.” He says looking down at the ground.

Perfect. Now you need the ground to swallow you whole. What is he doing here? Telling you you can’t be friends anymore?

“Oh.” Is all you can manage to say, you lean back against the kitchen counter and will your hands to stop shaking with nerves.

Steve’s eyes leave the floor and move to yours, knocking the air from your lungs with their intensity. He nods and takes a step closer to you. “I saw you singing and dancing.”

You nod and look away. “Yeah, I love that song and Robin accidentally posted that to her story instead of close friends.”

Steve moves and stands in front of you; his eyes scan your face as emotion dances in them while he looks into your own. “Who was it about?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You tell him, trying your best to act clueless.

“Robin said ‘Tell him’ Who?” Steve asks.

“So you came to my apartment to make fun of me?” You ask, eyebrows meeting in the middle. “Do you want to know so you can make fun of me, Steve?”

“Babe, come on, you know I would never make fun of you.” He tells you seriously.

“Then why do you even want to know?” You huff.

Steve takes one of your hands, an electric shock hitting both of you at once when he does —they’re so much bigger than yours and warm, you wish he’d never let it go. “Because I wanted it to be me.” He whispers, his face shifting closer to yours so you can hear him. “You can tell me, if it’s me.”

You shake your head, heart beating out of your chest. Tears begin to sting your eyes but you will them to go away. You’re thrilled by his confession, wanting nothing more for it to be true, but is it right? Should you tell him? “What if I lose you?”

Steve’s hand lets go of your and goes to your cheek instead, then his forehead presses against yours when he speaks. “You won’t. I want it to be me because I don’t want you like a best friend either. I want everything with you.”

You sigh when he brushes his nose against yours; your heart leaves it’s place in the middle of your chest and joins your stomach for a second before returning to its place. “What’s everything?”

Steve smiles and places a kiss on your cheek. “Your best friend, your boyfriend; I want to hold your hand, but I also really want to touch you everywhere. I want to be yours.” His lips drag against your skin as he speaks, voice hushed like a confession. “I’ve been in love with you for years and you’ve never noticed.”

You lean back and look into his eyes, there’s longing and love and lust, all blending into a darker brown than his usual soft gaze. Could it be true that he’s felt the same way all this time? Were the things you accredited to friendship actually his feelings for you revealing themselves. “Tell me, now.” You whisper looking at him with all the longing you feel.

You see him swallow hard, the hand on your cheek rubbing softly at the skin. A single lock of hair falls on his forehead as he looks down at you. “I love you, and I can see now you’ve felt the same way too.”

You nod, feeling dizzy from his words. There’s a happiness coursing through you that brings a smile to your face so big it hurts your cheeks. “Yes, I love you. Yes, the song was about you.”

Your words are whispered between the two of you as the distance begins to close. The joy and the excitement of having the man of your dreams in front of you confessing his love for you makes your body thrum with energy. Energy that grows and grows into a tension between the two of you that makes Steve close his eyes for a moment.

“Can I take this off?” He asks, his hand moving up your thigh to feel the material of your dress; it lights your skin on fire.

Your breath catches on your throat and you swallow hard to get your voice back. “Yes.” You tell him as your hands go to his hair, it’s softer than you imagined. “You already know I want you to.”

Steve’s lips are on yours a second later and you can’t help the sigh that escapes you when he does. His lips caress yours softly but firmly enough for you to know this is really happening. Steve’s hand on your cheek angles your face just right as he kisses you, giving him the perfect angle to tease your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. He opens you up to him, intoxicating you with the taste of him, the heat radiating from his body, everything. His lips leave yours to kiss along your jaw. His breath causes shivers to go down your spine, and his lips leave open mouthed kisses along your skin.

“Did you really buy this dress for me?” He whispers by your ear, his hands going to your hips and helping you on the counter. “Hmm?”

You nod and give him a breathy Yes when the tip of his tongue teases your earlobe. “But I never thought you’d see it.” You confess.

“I’m glad I did.” He pulls back and looks into your eyes, they’re loving, sincere, and dark with want. He shakes his head, “You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

You pull him closer again, capturing his lips in a firmer kiss, a needier one. Years of pent-up frustration rising to the surface, your body wanting more, and more, and more. Your hands move under his tshirt and explore his back as Steve kisses you deeply, pulling back when you need to catch your breath; the tip of his nose moves up the side of yours before his lips are on yours again, teeth scraping at the soft skin. His hands move from your waist to the front of your dress, his thumbs go over your nipples which makes you arch into him.

“Come on,” Steve rasps when you try to pull yourself closer to him, "Bed.”

He guides your legs around his waist and proceeds to carry you to the bedroom, laughing with you when he trips by the doorway. He turns on your lamp on his way, bathing the room in warm light, then after checking that the blinds are closed, he lowers you gently on the bed. He soon follows, settling over you, one arm holding his weight away from you and his free hand skimming up your inner thigh.

“Stevie.” You whisper, melting at the sight of his adoring eyes; he looks at you like he’s in disbelief of having you underneath him, loving him like crazy. You smile, “Kiss me.”

Steve leans down again, pink lips capturing yours once more before his hand moves under the hem of your dress.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.” He whispers against your lips, kissing you again and grazing his teeth against the bottom one. He cups you over your underwear as he speaks. “How I’ve driven myself crazy thinking about the two of us together. Making you this wet.”

You drag your nails over his scalp and scratch lightly before you fist his hair in your hands. “That makes two of us.”

You barely get the words out, before his fingers find your underwear and push it to the side pulling a moan from your lips. His fingers work between your legs and Steve curses when he notices how aroused you are. He continues dragging out sighs and whimpers out of you as bliss washes over your body. You never thought being touched by him would feel so good, especially when his fingers slide inside and your hips rise to meet his strokes.

“That’s it, baby; you’re making the prettiest sounds.” His voice is gravely next to your ear. “Tell me how it feels, babygirl.”

You keen under his touch and praise, feeling hot all over as your body tingles with need. Your hands find Steve’s face, dragging him away from your neck to kiss his lips again. You moan his name and bite his bottom lip when he touches you just right. Throwing all sense out the window you whisper his name again, begging him to touch you.

He smiles, you can feel it against your lips. “I’m touching you, baby.”

You shake your head and urge him to look into your eyes again. “No, I need you to touch me everywhere. Please.”

You can’t even be embarrassed with how needy you’re for him. You’ve never felt embarrassed with Steve before, always free to be yourself, so you’re not starting now. He’s your best friend, he knows you and can read you like a book. He knows you so well that he nods, understanding what you mean, what you want, his body bare over yours.

“You don’t have to beg. Whatever you want from me is yours.”

Pulling away from you and taking his fingers away from underneath you dress, Steve leans back on his knees and takes his t-shirt off. Next are his jeans which leaves him only in a pair of grey boxer briefs that leave very little to the imagination. They sit low on his hips, and you can clearly see the outline of him underneath the cotton. The waistband rests just below his hipbones, revealing a patch of hair that trails down and hides underneath the waistband. You’ve seen him shirtless before; when he wears you favourite pair of swimming trunks to the beach you have to talk yourself out of staring at him for so long, staring there no less. But now you can look at him, all of him, with no shame and you have to bite your lip to control yourself in front of the man kneeling between your legs. His strong body is on display for you; strong and arms and his broad shoulders you want him to cover yours with. Dark chest hair and tummy covered in freckles, making your mouth water. You want all of him. You push up to your left hand and drag your right thumb over a particular freckle, you can’t wait for the moment you can taste it. Your lustful gaze makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat, even more so when you look up at him.

“More.” You say simply, pulling at the elastic of his briefs as a hint.

Steve smiles and shakes his head with a curse. “You’re the one wearing more clothes now, you know.”

“Take them off then.” You challenge with the raise of an eyebrow, trying to be demanding and in control of the situation but failing.

Steve doesn’t let you take control; it disappears when he begins to pull your dress upwards as carefully as opening a present. A sound escapes him when he notices you’re not wearing a bra, but you can’t see his face when he does because the dress goes over your head in that moment before it falls to the floor with the rest of his clothes.

“Fuck. Do you know how hot you are?” Steve curses. Your body burns again from his lustful gaze that roams it, and the sheer need to feel him close to you. He looks up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath through his nose, then shakes his head and looks at you again. “I knew I loved your body, but this? You’re beautiful beyond my dreams.”

You look away from his adoring gaze, trying to keep your face from burning at his words. Which is impossible, and pointless considering they way you’ve touched and kissed him just now. Your body moves as you switch your position on the bed, kneeling in front of him to mirror him. His bare chest almost touching yours; all of you and all of him naked safe for your underwear. You look into his eyes as your hands roam up his chest, right hand staying on his cheek as you lean closer to his lips.

“You’re a work of art, Steve.” You whisper and lean in to kiss him slowly as your other hand runs down his chest to touch him through the cotton of his briefs. You don’t have to say please, he’d said so you touch him instead to let him know what you want.

You swallow Steve’s groan with your lips when he kisses you again. He drags them along your jaw and nips at your skin as he lays you back on the bed, soothing each little bite with his tongue. He pushes your thighs apart and settles between your legs, grunting when he looks for friction between the two of you and you push upwards to meet him. He grinds his heavy cock against your aching cunt and both your mouths fall slack against each other as you moan —same breathe mingling until it’s one. He's right there where you want him, have wanted him, for so long. It takes a moment for you to recover enough from the sensation and focus back on Steve, but when you do your lips find each other again. Despite the clear need between the two of you though, the kiss remains slow; gentle but full of the fire growing within both of you. There’s no rush now, as love gains the upper hand on lust –each brush of lips conveys 3 words, and each grind of your hips makes you gasp. Steve’s hands are all over your body; your arms, the side of your waist, your legs, your stomach, your breasts, your face. There’s no place untouched, and it satisfies the burning sensation under your skin. Another moan escapes you and it’s swallowed up Steve’s hungry mouth, which now knows the way you like to be kissed and leaves you breathless. He whispers his praise against them, making you arch into him with every filthy word.

You pull away from his lips and grab his face to look at him in the eyes; brown turned black by his blown pupils. “I’m still struggling to believe this is real.”

Steve smiles at you, the adoring way he’s always done. “It is real; we have all night for you to believe it.” His hands move to pull down your underwear in juxtaposition to his sweetness. He tosses them aside before he moves away from you, crawling down your body and settling his face between your thighs

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut

[twostepstyless]

All Roads Lead To You

Authors Note:

NSFW

Harry and Y/N decide to take an open-ended roadtrip to Italy, they’ve been best friends since school but what changes when they get to run away for a bit and enjoy some overdue, uninterrupted time together under the summer sun as they journey across Europe. This one has been in the works, essentially, since Harry’s House was released. Heavily inspired by the song Keep Driving, the referenced are blatantly obvious LOL. Also wrote this about Harry’s trip to Italy he took during the pandemic when he drove there from England with a friend, in my story the friend happens to be Y/N. Some of the photos they take on the trip are also direct references from the Harry’s House album booklet, see if you can guess which ones! This is my longest fic to date and I hope you enjoy it, it’s been a labour of love. 

As always, reblogs, likes, feedback is appreciated and encouraged !!

Lots of love, G xo 

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: Recreational drug use and smut. Don’t do drugs kids (but if you do be safe xo) 

Contains: Long drives, crepes in Paris, Coffee in Pisa, Pizza in Naples, Audrey Hepburn in Rome and a whole lotta love in Positano and a lot of blatant references to the song Keep Driving xo OH and Y/N spills food… a LOT

Word Count: 22k (it’s a BIG one, may need to read on desktop, device depending)

***

“Right then, we ready?” Harry asked shutting the driver side door as he got comfortable in the leather seat. 

“Think so, did you lock up?” she asked, not yet looking up from her phone as she scrolled through their carefully curated road trip playlist. 

“No, jus’ left the front door open for a laugh, I’ve stuck a sign up out the front saying everything’s free for the taking as well,” he said, sarcasm dripping around every word. 

“Don’t be a smart arse, or you’ll be in for a long journey, I was jus’ checking. Did you lock the back doors?” She glanced up at him to see him sliding the key to the borrowed car into the ignition, his blue hat backwards on top of his grown-out curls, a pair of yellow tinted sunglasses hanging from the neck of his sweatshirt. 

Harry paused as he was about to turn the key to start the car up, “the back doors weren’t open,” he said slowly, as if trying to convince himself of the fact. 

“H, we ate out there this morning,” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, baffled to the fact he couldn’t remember they were out there with coffee and pancakes not even an hour ago. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry grumbled, pulling the keys back out of the ignition and groaning as he got back out the car with his knees cracking as he stood. Y/N leant out of the open passenger window as Harry made his way back to his front door.

“Oi, try and lose that hat while you’re at it, yeah?” Y/N called out the window to him, a smirk playing at her lips as Harry looked back over his shoulder as he unlocked the door. Before entering he turned back to face her, spun his hat round so the front was facing her so she could read that god awful fisherman quote, and he stuck both his middle fingers up at her as he laughed, walking backwards into his house. 

While he was gone, Y/N took the opportunity to connect her phone to the sound system ready to deep dive into their playlist and then rifled through her bag in the footwell that had all their essentials for the first block of driving, just double checking she had everything to hand. A rough route map, or more so things they could stop to see and interesting places they could spend a night on their open-ended trip as they drove from London to Italy. Y/N had both their passports in a plastic wallet along with every other document they could possibly need and then some. Harry had joked her bag had looked like a police evidence container with everything separated into various wallets and folders. That had earned him a slap in the chest with one of those wallets and her saying, “well say, we get questioned about the car insurance at least I’ll know where it is, instead of you patting at your pockets as if it’s going to appear by magic, eh?” 

She wasn’t wrong either, Harry knew he was making the right decision asking her to come along on this trip with him. Not only was she so well organised it put him to shame but he really couldn’t wait to have some well overdue Harry and Y/N time. The pair had been friends since they started high school, in fact, Harry was of the opinion friends was too basic of a term for what they were to each other. Kindred spirits perhaps, confidante seemed a bit too high and mighty of a phrase. Soulmates. Platonic soulmates, Harry kept telling himself, but the ache in his chest he felt when they were separated by the Atlantic Ocean and every flight grounded for the foreseeable when he got stuck in L.A when the entire world locked down said differently. Their daily FaceTime calls, that happened at all hours of the day and night, when they would confuse their time differences and any semblance of a daily schedule fell by the wayside throughout lockdowns and quarantines, eventually turned into them fantasising what they should do to make up for lost time when they were finally reunited and restrictions allowed them to run away for a bit, and thus the idea to drive to Italy was born. They justified it by saying, well driving would mean they would interact with the least amount of people other than each other, minimising their risk of becoming unwell, it would also mean they could make the trip as long or short as they pleased as neither of the pair had anything they had to rush back for. The only small argument they had got into was which car would be taking them on the journey across the English Channel and Europe, Y/N’s ageing car, that Harry had affectionately named her ‘Doodlebug’ was out of the question, it was a little too small and if Y/N was honest she didn’t think the car would make it through the channel crossing never mind to Italy. That left them Harry’s multiple car options, all of which Y/N shot down as he suggested them, rejecting his classic and vintage cars because, “what if something went wrong H? I doubt some mechanic in the middle of nowhere France can fix a Mercedes from the 60s.” When he suggested his newer, modern cars, they ended up in the reject pile just as quick, “they’re all a bit ostentatious d’you not think? All a bit ‘look at me, I’m a wanker roaring through rural France in a sports car’ or a big, fuck-off Range Rover before you suggest that.” 

That left them drawing a blank, toying the idea of hiring a car until Harry mentioned his and Y/N’s plans while on a call with his Mum.

“Why don’t you take Robin’s?” she had suggested.

“Christ Mum, y’sure y’would be alright with that?” he queried, gnawing on his lip.

“Honestly Harry, please do, it would be a nice full circle moment, I think. We went all over the country in that thing, would be lovely to see you two take it further afield, make some memories like we did,” she had given him a soft smile through the phone screen as Harry gave her one back, feeling his eyes go glassy. 

Which brought them to this moment. The second Harry had found out he was able to get home from L.A, Y/N was taking the quickest trip back up North she’d ever had, to collect the car and give a quick wave through the window to her own parents as that was as close to them as she was willing to risk, and she was back on the road driving the borrowed car to London to await Harry’s arrival. They set their departure date for a little over two weeks after Harry returned, so they could both isolate and not risk each other’s health and safety. 

Just as she was repacking her final documents folder with their passports, Harry’s filled with a lot more stamps and used pages than her own, back into her bag in the footwell, Harry had returned, opening, and sliding into the driver’s seat, popping the key back into the ignition. 

“Well, was the back door unlocked then?” she looked over at him, quirking her eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips, taking note that the ‘if you ain’t a fisherman, you ain’t shit’ hat was still sat firmly on his head, squashing his soft curls down. 

“Shut up,” he grumbled, deflecting from answering, he couldn’t help but let a smile tug at the corner of his annoyed pout as Y/N giggled from her seat, fastening her belt as Harry started the engine. “Next stop, the Eurotunnel,” he grinned at her as she wriggled excitedly in her seat, the idea of escaping the U.K for at least a little while was really doing a number on her. 

“There’ll be bluebirds over, the white cliffs of Dover,” Y/N warbled as she pressed play on the same song on her phone. 

Harry huffed out a laugh, “the Eurotunnel is in Folkestone, y’idiot,” he said as she continued her slightly off-key tune as the voice of Vera Lynn eased them into the first leg of a journey that would change everything. 

***

“Harry, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Y/N warned as she pulled out the document with their booking reference.

“M’fine,” he grunted, reaching through his window, fingertips just whispering across the touchscreen as he tried to plug in the details

“Jus’ accept you misjudged it and open your bloody door, I’m not popping your shoulder back into place in the car park,” she retaliated. 

Harry sighed before stretching out his seatbelt and popping the door open so he could lean closer to the screen all the while muttering under his breath, “jus’ embarrassing innit,” and “I look like a right knob,” as Y/N snickered and read out the code to him for him to punch in. 

Slamming the door shut and handing her the ticket they had to hang from the rear-view mirror, his eyes met hers as she pressed her lips together to stifle the laugh that was crawling its way up her throat, “not a word,” he cautioned lifting his foot from the clutch as they drove under the raised barrier. “How long’ve we got til our slot?” he asked as he followed the road round into the car park where a selection of shops and world duty free framed the tarmac. 

“Uh, 30-40 minutes, I think,” Y/N glanced at her watch as Harry pulled into a free parking space, “I really need a wee before we go anywhere though,” quickly attaching the ticket with the bold letter E inked on it to the rear-view mirror that would direct the staff to which train they should be on before undoing her seatbelt and reaching for her mask to slip on to enter the rest area. 

Pulling his own mask on, he unbuckled his own seatbelt before getting out the car with her, locking it behind him with the push of a button, “okay, you sort yourself out, I’m away to play ‘Supermarket Sweep’ in the shops, any requests?” he held the door to the concourse open for her. 

“The journey is only a bit over half an hour, but I could go somethin’ tasty,” she paused, mulling over what she could want before the pressure in her bladder interrupted her as she shot off towards the toilets, calling over her shoulder, “surprise me!”

Hands washed and dried and snacks purchased, they met outside the front doors of the concourse, so they weren’t lingering around many people before sauntering back over to the car. 

“Shit, I forgot to put that bloody U.K sticker on the car,” Harry said as he took notice of the white stickers with the bold black letters emblazoned on the car’s parked on either side of their own. “Pass me it out, s’in the glove box,” he passed her the bag filled with their snacks as well to deposit in her passenger side too. Y/N quickly located the sticker handing it to Harry who was stood behind her on the passenger side and just as she was about to close the compartment, she caught sight of something else.

“Oh… H, look at this,” wrapping her hand round the item before pulling herself back out the car round the back to see Harry squatting down, smoothing over the sticker over the bumper. She handed him the polaroid she found, one of Anne and Robin, perched on the bonnet of this very car, clearly taken before one of their many road trips. Harry’s fingers held onto the edges of the image as to not taint it with his fingerprints as he took in their beaming faces, Y/N watched smiling softly as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat before he cleared it. 

“I’ve got m’film camera in my backpack, we should take one too… like they did,” he glanced up at her timidly.

“That sounds like a great idea, let me put this back where it belongs and we’ll take one before we go, yeah?” she gave him a warm smile and a squeeze of his hand, taking the polaroid from him and putting it back in its home in the glove box so it would be on their journey with them. Harry was opening the boot, scouring through his large backpack that Y/N frequently teased him about, saying he looked like an 11-year-old on their first day of high school wearing it. Pulling out the camera and setting it up as he closed the boot again, Y/N sidled up to him as he held out the camera in front of them, trying to get the newly placed U.K sticker in the shot. Her hand came up to block the sun from her eyes as she beamed into the camera lens, a broad grin across Harry’s face too, as one eye squinted closed as he battled the golden rays shining in his face as he took their photo. 

“S’black an’ white film in it just now, that’s the only thing,” Harry said taking the camera and its accompanying bag, stuffed full of accessories and new rolls of film and cannisters into the front seats so they could take some pictures on their journey.

“Even better,” she smiled, sliding back into her seat, and fastening her belt, “should we get out of here then?”

“Let’s do this,” Harry reached over to squeeze her knee in excitement as he started the car and drove towards the Eurotunnel. 

***

Harry was adamant he was doing the first portion of driving from his home until they stopped overnight in Paris, one of the locations they decided to stop off at along the way to Italy, wanting to make it a ‘proper road trip.’ He was adamant he was doing that first portion of driving even when they got into a little scuffle next to the car while stretching their legs as the train hurtled under the English Channel. When Y/N tried to wrestle the keys from his grip and force herself into the driver’s seat. 

“Move your arse, it’s not happening,” he had said taking the keys out of her grip holding them up above both their heads and out of reach. 

“You’re the one that said we were splitting the driving,” she shot back as she reached up on the tips of her toes, her fingers just ghosting the keys, if only she could just hook a finger through the keyring.

Harry whipped the keys back down and stuck them in his back pocket before spinning Y/N round so he was closer to the open driver’s door, “and we’ll split it with you driving for a bit tomorrow, jus’ let me get us to Paris,” he stated as he sat down in seat and shut the door behind him before seeing Y/N’s furrowed brow through the open window, “oi, get in and buckled up, grumpy, we’ll be driving off soon.” 

Her grumpiness didn’t last long as they were on the road from Calais to Paris, with them competing in the car of who could remember more from high school French which was really just the numbers from 1 to 20, some greetings and how to say you were going to the cinema with your mates, all completed with their dodgy attempt at an accent. 

“Pass me a piggy,” he asked, looking out the corner of his eyes through his yellow sunglasses to see Y/N had burst into their snack haul.

“Um..” she began, feeling the heat rise on her face. 

“You’ve not tanked an entire bag of Percy Pigs, have you?” Harry asked whipping his head round at her quickly, mouth open, before his eyes shot back to the road, “and didn’t even offer me one.”  “No, no, not all of them, there’s some left, honest,” she giggled clutching onto the pink packaging that she had torn open.

“Then cough up,” he held out his left palm that had previously been resting on the gear stick. Y/N begrudgingly placed the pig-shaped confection in his hand. 

“I love Percy Pigs, they’re my favourites,” she said softly to herself mostly, as she ate the second to last sweet before handing Harry the last one in the bag. 

“I know y’do, there’s a second bag in there for the very reason I knew you would put that first bag away in record time,” he mumbled, chewing round a mouthful of fruit-flavoured pig.

“Shit, is there actually? You’re my second favourite after Percy now” she squeaked as she tore through the bag for life Harry had filled with her favourites while he played Supermarket Sweep earlier that day. Harry grinned at her joy of finding the second bag as he took a swig of water from the bottle that she had taken the lid off for him as he drove. 

***

She had played the opening song from Beauty and the Beast as they drove into Paris as Harry snorted at her choice before joining in her singalong and pointing towards himself during the line about the baker. They did a quick driving tour of Paris as night fell over the city, both too exhausted for anything more. They parked up to enjoy the glittering light show of the Eiffel Tower while they ate the crêpes Y/N had purchased from an overpriced stand while she said something about this being a trip to play up the tourist stereotype. Harry watched her eyes sparkle in the twinkling light as drip of Nutella landed on her chin and a slice of strawberry fell out her dessert onto the pavement below their feet. As the sparkling faded out to darkness, Y/N looked up at Harry, who laughed in her face as he wiped away the Nutella with his scrunched-up napkin while she played it off saying she was saving that bit for later. 

Harry had called in a favour with some friends in Paris and had managed to borrow an apartment for a night while his friend was out of town, gathering their overnight bags from the car and Y/N’s bag with all their important bits that she didn’t want to leave unattended in the car overnight, they shuffled into the quiet of the apartment to see Harry’s friend had made up their sofa bed in addition to their own bedroom for the pair.

“Bedrooms through there, Y/N/N, I’ll be out here,” he grunted out, his tiredness starting to become more evident in his voice. 

“Don’t be ridiculous c’mere,” she tugged him alongside her into the bedroom, “I also don’t want t’hear you whine about a sore back in the car all day tomorrow,” she stated before sitting him down on the bed and kicking her shoes off and grabbing her sleepwear from her bag, “I baggsy the bathroom first, though,” she said through a yawn as she walked away from him. Harry quickly got himself changed while she was out of the room and was swiping through the pictures they had taken at the Eiffel Tower, and quick shots of other sights through the window on their driving tour, on his phone, in addition to the ones on his film camera. He barely noticed her enter the room again and shuffle into the bed next to him until the mumbled, “bathrooms all yours.” Harry was quick in sorting himself out in the bathroom, doing his business, washing his face, and brushing his teeth as he felt his body succumbing to sleep. He stumbled back into the bedroom to see her already out, soft puffs of air leaving her, her hair covering her face. Slipping under the sheets next to her, he reached over, pushed her hair back and smiled softly, eyes blinking heavily as he took in her softened features before turning out the bedside light and letting his body fall under the sleep it so desperately needed. 

***

“H, I’m so hungry I’m hurtling towards taking a bite out the steering wheel,” she announced, looking over at him with a deadpan expression from her spot in the driver’s seat as he took a quick picture of her grimace on his camera. They had set off from Paris early with a long driving day in front of them with and Y/N was taking on the first stint of the drive to give Harry a break after his turn yesterday. 

“Percy not cutting it any longer?” Harry questioned, lowering his camera from his face, a teasing smirk plaguing his mouth.

“Not even a little bit,” she sighed looking down at the packet of sweets jammed into one of the cup holders, not in the slightest bit tempted as she was yesterday. 

“I’m already googling, I’ll find somewhere,” he reassured pulling his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie before pausing, “here, drink up, it’ll hold you over a bit before we stop,” he unscrewed lid of the water before passing it to her as she drank up gratefully keeping her right hand on the steering wheel. 

They drove for another 45 minutes before Harry instructed her to pull into a rest stop that apparently served a great breakfast, according to TripAdvisor anyway. Y/N parked up and unbuckled and as she reached for a fresh mask Harry gripped her wrist and deposited it back into her lap, “no point in both of us going in, we’ll eat in the car, yeah?” 

“Well, let me go then, don’t want you to get, y’know,” she spoke as she gestured her hands in the air as if to create some sort of fanfare symbolising Harry getting mobbed. 

“Considering we’re in the middle of nowhere France and there’s only a lorry, us, and a car from 1982 parked up,” he nodded towards the car, “I think I’ll be jus’ fine. Got m’mask and m’sunnies on as well,” he said as he donned both, nodding his head down quickly to knock his sunglasses from their perch in his hair to cover his eyes as he looped the elastic of his mask over his ears. 

“Take my wallet then, s’in the top of my bag, got some cash in there,” she reached over to adjust his sunglasses that sat squint on his face while he scrunched his nose up.

“Fuck off,” he scoffed at her suggestion of offering him money, unbuckling his seatbelt, and opening his door to get out.

“Harry just tak-” she was cut off by the slamming of his door as she rolled her eyes at his behaviour. 

He returned about 20 minutes later as she watched him through the front windscreen as he crossed the car park with a coffee carrier and a brown paper bag that the handles seemed to be straining on as he shook it in the air and wiggled his hips when he came to a stop in front of the car. She could see his eyes crinkle through his yellow lenses as he came back round to his passenger door. He passed her the coffee carrier in and balanced the paper bag on top of the centre console as he situated himself back in his seat. Y/N had rolled her own seat back as far as it could go to give herself a bit more room.

“That smells amazing,” Y/N sighed dreamily taking a whiff of the hot food coming from the paper bag as she took their coffees from the carrier and settled them in the two-remaining cupholders. 

“Oh, we hit the jackpot in there, I come bearing a bag of fresh, home-made, assorted pastries,” he pulled out a white paper bag that seemed to be filled to bursting with buttery, flaky goodness, “we also have- oops there’s the forks,” he distracted himself pulling out a bundle of wooden cutlery wrapped in some paper napkins. “We also have toast,” he pulled out a white cardboard box and placed it on the dashboard between them, balancing some butter packages and jams on top, “and finally, hash browns an’ fried eggs,” he grinned handing over a polystyrene container she could feel the heat radiating through and placing his own container in his lap. 

“Oh my god, aw I could kiss you,” she smiled patting her grumbling stomach, “did y’get knives though ‘cause I don’t like the egg whi-”

“Already dealt with,” he cut her off with a smile then taking a sip from his coffee, and sure enough it was. She popped open the lid of her food and saw her hash browns with two fried egg yolks sat next to them, the whites cut off from around them. Looking over at Harry, she saw him already wolfing into his yolkless egg whites in their chopped-up glory. 

They ate and drank with their music playing quietly in the background until their bellies were full and Y/N was feeling a lot less grouchy. She packed up their rubbish into the paper bag and went to get out the car to take it to the bin across the carpark, “wait hang on lovie,” Harry stopped her before taking his thumb and swiping it across her bottom lip and chin before holding it in her eyeline, “some stray strawberry jam this time, are y’planning on spilling down your chin at every stop?” he smiled before wiping his thumb clean on a spare napkin before putting that in the top of their rubbish too.

***

Y/N continued driving the next portion of the journey with Harry deciding he’d take over just before the Mont Blanc tunnel. Insisting even when Y/N fought him on it. 

“Why don’t we just swap the other side of the tunnel, seems a bit more logical to do it tha’ way.”

“No, no we’ll swap before,” his most reassuring tone evident in his voice. 

She paused, thinking, before it dawned on her, “you just want to say you drove through the big tunnel, don’t you?” she mused. Harry’s silence and the redness that coloured his cheeks and the tips of his ears gave him away in an instant. “Y’so silly, we’ll swap before the tunnel,” she said as he beamed to himself.

So, they did. Y/N pulled into the last rest stop before the Mont Blanc tunnel where it was her turn to fill up the tank anyway as Harry got himself comfortable in the driver’s seat, moving it into position and adjusting his mirrors. Petrol paid for; they were on their way again. Y/N was fiddling around with Harry’s camera changing the film from the black and white reel they had finished to a colour film instead. As they paid the toll for the tunnel through the Alps and waited on their turn to go through, she caught his attention, “right, look at me,” he turned his head as he drove up to the entrance of the tunnel as Y/N took his picture, catching him unawares. “There we go, Harry’s big moment driving through the tunnel captured on film to remember forever,” she teased. 

“You’ve got a real cheek, y’know, could’ve at least told me y’were taking m’photo, I would’ve posed an’ got a better shot,” he pulled his hat off leaving it on the dash, which she then took a photo of, while it was lit by the afternoon sun coming in the front window. 

“Nah, my photography is all about catching real, genuine emotions,” she said in her best serious voice. 

“Your photography,” he snorted, “right Annie Leibovitz, calm yourself down.”

“Oh, fuck off Harry, c’mon it’s our turn,” she said pointing towards the tunnel entrance. 

As he drove into the tunnel with a smile on his face, he mentioned the silly superstition they used to do as children, “I’d say hold your breath and make a wish til the end of the tunnel but it’s 7 and a bit miles long and I could be doing with y’not passing out halfway.” 

They decided to keep driving. Originally planning on having a rest night on the other side of the tunnel once they crossed into Italy, but Harry was feeling good and hadn’t driven much so was up for getting them to Pisa early so they could spend two nights rather than the one and get to see the city properly the next day. 

The highway hypnosis and gentle rumble of the car paired with their early morning start, rocked Y/N to sleep for a little while nearly two hours into their journey, and Harry couldn’t help himself by continuously taking shy glances over at her. Constantly worried that the next time she’s going to be awake and catch him looking, but he just couldn’t stop himself, her softened, relaxed features were just so endearing to him. It comforted him to know she felt safe, secure, and relaxed enough to fall asleep while he drove. He let her sleep as long as he could before he became wary about her not being able to sleep tonight if she slept all the way until Pisa. He considered reaching over and gently shaking her awake. Considered it, then swiftly moved on from that because at heart, Harry was a little shit to Y/N. A menace, and always had been over the nearly fifteen years they knew each other, and that wasn’t about to change now. He pulled over at a quiet part of the road and grabbed her phone that was still connected to the speakers, playing soft instrumental and orchestral music. He signed in with her passcode and entered her Apple Music tab, quickly finding the song he wanted and queuing it to play next before starting off down the road again. As the previous song faded into nothing, Harry quickly spun the volume dial and thought to himself, when in Italy. As the rousing opening to ‘Volare’ blasted through the car speakers, so loud the car 100 metres in front of them could probably hear it. Y/N shrieked awake and jumped so high her head brushed the roof of the car as Harry cackled. 

“What in the actual fuck, Harry?!” she clutched her chest as Harry kept laughing. 

“Y’needed to wake up or you’re not going to sleep t’night, so I woke you up,” he kept laughing, turning the music down to a volume that wasn’t threatening to burst their eardrums.

“So, you decided to do that by nearly giving me a heart attack?” she asked dumbfounded her heartrate slowly ticking back down to a more sensible rhythm. “You’re an actual dickhead, Harry Styles.”

“Shut up and singalong, y’love this song,” he grinned wickedly at her. 

“Where are we, anyway?” she asked stretching her arms above her head, finally adjusting to being awake again. 

“Just passed Genoa, f’you look out my window we might be able to see the water in a second,” Harry glanced out trying to see the sparkling blue of the Ligurian Sea as he began softly humming along to the song. 

***

As they reached Pisa, things were going the same way they had went in Paris. Agreeing they were far too exhausted to do anything that night, at least they had an entire day and night tomorrow to explore and see the city. It was really beneficial for Y/N to be friends with Harry, who had friends, everywhere. They were staying in another borrowed apartment from one of his friends for the next two nights, this one slightly more extravagant with a large balcony and two bedrooms so they wouldn’t be squished in together, Harry didn’t know if this was a positive or a negative, but it also meant that one of them didn’t have to be banished to a pull-out either. They were picking up the keys from Harry’s mate in the centre of town near a restaurant his friend had also recommended so they opted to get take-out from there, after Harry pulled out some awful joke about them having a ‘Pisa Pizza’ to take back and eat to settle down for the night. 

Harry pulled up and parked in a space a few down from the restaurant, and before Y/N even reached for her belt to undo it, he stopped her. “Jus’ you wait here, sleepy, I won’t be too long,” he uttered before reaching across and tucking strands of her hair behind her ear. 

“Hmm, okay,” Y/N yawned before reaching down to her bag, “take this though, an’ I mean it this time, H, don’t even try and give it back or you’ll be spoiling for a fight,” she ordered before shoving a few folded-up Euros into his palm to pay for dinner. Rolling his eyes, he pocketed the cash and got out the car. 

She had been scrolling her phone when Harry returned with a set of keys between his teeth and carrying two pizza boxes in his hands, a plastic bag balanced on top, and a paper bag tucked under his arm. Y/N reached over and popped open the driver’s door, so he didn’t have to struggle, and he handed her the boxes and plastic bag, filled with their food, in for her to hold. 

“What’s with the other bag,” she looked over as Harry kept hold of the paper bag before reaching back over the seats and depositing it into his backpack that had made its way into the backseat rather than the boot. 

“Jus’ somethin’ for tomorrow night and maybe something else for another night,” he had a knowing smirk plastered on his face as she quirked an eyebrow at him but was far too tired to push it any further. She’d find out eventually.

The rest of their evening passed in a sleepy sort of haze, having got into the apartment, eating their dinner, taking turns showering and completing their night-time routines. With full bellies, they bade each other goodnight and slunk away into their respective bedrooms. Although they both admitted to themselves that they missed the closeness of each other through the brick wall that now separated them. They had been in each other’s pockets the last few days and now not having the option to reach out and touch or feel the other’s warmth was missed, but they’ll keep those thoughts to themselves. 

***

Their day in Pisa had started off busy and got lazier as it progressed which was perfect for them and exactly what they wanted out of the trip. They felt they had to go and see the tower in all its leaning glory and made the move to go first thing in the morning to avoid the most amount of people as they could. They took the classic tourist snapshots of pushing and pulling the tower before handing Harry’s camera to an older man to take a photo of the pair of them. They smiled and said ‘Grazie’ generously to the gentleman before giving the camera to a woman who passed them a few moments later to try again, as the older man’s fingertip was definitely, at least partially, covering the lens. 

They spent the rest of the morning wandering piazzas and side streets, in shops and taking photos. A new pair of sandals for Y/N later, as the strap snapped on her own as they walked, and pictures of Harry posed with a bottle of balsamic vinegar he had purchased, they decided they needed a pick me up. Walking into a trattoria, Harry ordered coffees and food for them to share in the best Italian that he had learnt from his friends and the Duolingo subscription he raved about to her. 

“This is weird, y’know,” he noted, sipping on his coffee as they sat outside on metal chairs that never sat quite level on the ground and a matching bistro table that wobbled if you so much as brushed against it. 

“What’s that?” she questioned, peering at him through the yellow of his sunglasses he had placed on her face as she sat down in the seat that the sun was glaring onto as Harry sat with his back to it. 

“Sitting down and having a coffee,” he hummed before tearing off a corner of bread and dipping it into the oil and balsamic mixture and popping it into his mouth. 

“How’s that weird?” she enquired further as she took a drink of her own coffee. 

“Suppose not s’much having the coffee, more the act of being able to sit down and drink it. I don’t really get t’do this much anymore. If I get a coffee, or anything really, it’s like okay, get it to go, move, onto the next place, or the next thing, don’t stop or it could cause a scene,” he rambles. “I’m just happy I can sit here and enjoy this, and we can take our time and we can chat or not chat if we don’t want to, we can spend as long as want,” he paused taking in his surroundings before looking down at his lap and furrowing his eyebrows, “ignore me, it’s stupid,” he tried brushing it off. 

“Hey, look at me,” she said, pushing the sunglasses back into her hair before his eyes met hers. “It’s not stupid, it’s not. You’re just appreciating being able to see the world go by for the first time since you were 16, Har, it’s a big deal,” she responded. “It’s like we’re hiding you in plain sight,” she had a sort of mischievous glint in her eye because they’ve managed this far going undetected. 

“Thank you, Y/N/N, really,” he smiled, “genuinely, I wouldn’t want to do this trip with anyone but you.”

“Thank fuck for that because I’ve made it this far with you, would be a bit shite if you had changed your mind now,” she laughed as his dimples popped in a responding peel of laughter. “We can do this as much as y’want you know,” her tone turning into a mixture of being serious but also reassuring, “if you want to stop for a coffee, or smell the flowers or sit and gorge on pasta on a busy terrace at a restaurant where no one knows it’s you, say the word an’ we’ll stop.” 

That’s what they did the rest of the afternoon, walking aimlessly wherever their feet took them, discovering tourist spots and hidden gems, stopping to read a chapter of their books, they had bought from a second-hand book shop on a tiny side street, while perched on the wall of a fountain in a bustling Piazza and for dinner they had done just what Y/N had suggested, filling themselves up on pasta while sat on a terrace as the evening sun faded around them. 

***

They were sitting on the balcony of the apartment now as Harry poured their wine glasses full of the additional bottle of wine, he had bought from the restaurant for them to share when they got back.

“Cheers,” he raised his glass in the air, gripping it by the stem as he tilted the bowl of the glass to hers. 

“Thought you were supposed to be great at Italian,” she said picking up her own glass but not letting the glass chime together yet, “they say Salute here, so Salute, look me in the eye as well or 7 years of bad sex is coming your way,” she giggled catching his gaze before letting the rim of the glasses clip together in a pleasing, twinkly sound. They both took a swig from the glass and afterwards Harry put his down abruptly on the table and stood up.

“Oh shit, I almost forgot,” and he dashed back through the open doors into the apartment.

“Forgot what?” she called in after him, still cradling her own wine glass, taking another sip letting the alcohol warm her from the inside out. 

Harry came back with a small decorative bowl, placing it in the centre of the table and the brown paper bag from yesterday in his clutches. His eyes gleamed at her as he rustled through the bag, looking for something in particular. Firstly, he pulled out a lighter and placed it down onto the table, the second thing came soon after. A joint, perfectly pre-rolled in pink rolling paper. “This is also why I had to meet to get the keys in person,” he confided.

“Bloody hell, H, we’ve not done this for a while, thought you just got sleepy from smoking?” Y/N took another mouthful of wine before sitting the glass down and scooching her chair closer to his. 

“Mm, I do, most of the time, this is a different strain though, so we’ll see what happens, y’up for it?” he asked sincerely, if she wasn’t, he’d forget all about it. 

“Of course, I’m up for it,” she grinned reaching for the lighter on the table, “what else you got in the bag?” 

“Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out, Sweetness,” he spoke vaguely, before placing the joint between his lips and leaning forward to let her spark it to life. He inhaled deeply, feeling it catch in his throat ever so slightly from being out of practice. He let the feeling settle in his lungs before steadily exhaling into the cooling summer air before ashing the joint into the bowl he brought with him and passing it to Y/N. Through sips of wine, deep inhales, ashes and exhales they passed their evening with soft conversation and fits of giggles. 

“Can’t believe y’broke y’bloody shoe out walking today,” he tittered before drinking down his wine before topping up his own glass and hers. 

“Aw don’t,” she whined, “I loved those sandals,” the full of her lip pouted before she took another drag. 

“More importantly, can’t believe the way you tripped when it broke,” he was cackling now at the memory of her earlier in the day, “I mean, fuck, y’nearly stacked it into the fountain,” he struggled to get out through his laughter, tapping off the joint she passed him back. 

“Oh, piss off,” she tried to keep her face serious, but Harry’s face lit up with laughter was hard to resist as she fell subject to her own giggling. 

They finished the joint and the wine between the pair of them. Letting the effects settle into their bodies for a little while, feeling more relaxed than euphoric. 

“Well, I better go drink a shit load of water and go sleep to sober up since m’driving in the morning,” Y/N began, standing to her feet, gathering the empty wine bottle and their empty glasses that were stained with lip marks and fingerprints. 

Harry stood to his feet as well, cleaning up everything else and tucking his paper bag back under his arm as they both toddled back into the apartment, shutting the balcony doors behind them. Popping everything they had brought in with them into the kitchen for them to tidy up in the morning before they continued their journey. They met again in the hallway outside the two bedroom doors as they said goodnight to each other. 

Harry couldn’t help himself in wrapping her in a warm hug, “thank you for today, really,” he whispered into her hair. 

“Don’t be silly,” she murmured back, wrapping her arms around his waist, letting her fingers dance on his spine as they swayed on the spot. 

“It meant a lot to me, today is right up there as one of my top 5 days, ever,” Harry kept going giving her a little squeeze.

“God, you’ve turned into a right wet wipe while you’ve been away, eh?” they broke away from their embrace as Y/N snickered. 

“Piss off,” he breathed out a laugh in return. Then he done it, he just couldn’t stop himself, his body already moving before the thought crossed his mind. He placed a delicate kiss upon the corner of her mouth and their eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips down. They blinked their eyes open at each other as Harry pulled back, a soft smile playing at their both their lips, then he done it again, just a bit closer to the target this time. He took her bottom lip between his and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her lips before he stood back to his full height and quietly laughed again as they looked at each other. 

They both turned to enter their rooms for the evening before Y/N said, looking over her shoulder, “Oi, H, I want to hear what the rest of those top 5 days are at one point,” she beamed as they both closed their bedroom doors. The pair of them ghosting their fingertips over their lips where they kissed. 

***

“D’you think the car sounds dodgy?” she asked trying to listen closely to the car, something was definitely making a noise that wasn’t there before. 

Harry reached over and turned the volume of the music right down to listen closely, “eh, there might be something a little off, it’ll be fine though, we’re not driving that long this morning,” he said sincerely turning the volume back up. She glanced over at him, both her hands gripping the steering wheel as she captained them on the drive to Rome. Harry was talking a gulp of his coffee from his to go cup, baring his teeth round the steaming, bitter liquid as it seared down his throat. 

“You’re only saying that, so I won’t get dead concerned, aren’t you?” Y/N uttered softly. 

“Maybe,” Harry drew out the word, a glint in his green eyes, “but maybe not. You’re concerned no matter what I say, correct?” Harry passed her, her own coffee cup so she could take a drink when she made a grabby hand towards it. 

“Just a little bit,” she said handing him the cup back after gulping it down so he could put it down in the cupholder. 

“Let’s just get to Rome and we’ll deal with it if it becomes a problem,” he reached over squeezing her knee in reassurance as she let out a slow breath trying to push the engine noise to the back of her mind and enjoy their route to Rome. 

***

Harry was directing Y/N through the streets of Rome from a map on his phone and as they approached the area they were staying in, Harry spoke. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she muttered, not fully listening as she was focusing on her driving as the cobbled roads were narrow, and they were surrounded by pedestrians. 

“Where we’re staying t’night, y’might recognise it,” a smile evident in his voice, “take a left here, doll and park up, we need to walk a little, not much parking on our street.” Y/N done the best parallel park of her life and killed the engine giving him a bemused smile at Harry’s vagueness. Harry took both their overnight bags after he slipped his backpack on his shoulders. After she grabbed her smaller bag, she reached to take her overnight bag off him, “s’fine Sweets, I’ve got it.” They walked down the road they had parked on as Harry kept an eye on his phone map making sure he took her down the correct street, “ready?” he asked as they stood at the corner of the street they were turning down. She nodded her head eagerly and followed him round, letting a soft gasp leave her mouth as she saw the stone buildings that were covered in sprawling ivy. Catching the street sign above her head, her eyes shot to Harry’s who was stood in front of her, their bags resting on the cobbled road as he took a picture of her face flushed with the heat, eyes bright with excitement a wide grin spread across her lips as a bubble of laughter that he would compare to wind chimes left her. 

“Via Margutta? From ‘Roman Holiday’? You’re actually having a laugh, Harry!” Y/N all but launched herself at Harry who had to catch her quickly before they both landed on the cobbles. 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as he tried unlatching her vice grip, she had around his neck, “okay, okay, let me look at you,” he pried her hands off and held her by the wrists as they both laughed, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

“How did you do this?” she asked shaking her head as she looked around the street she knew so well from the screen.

“Saw it online when I was looking for a place for us to stay, know ‘Roman Holiday’ is your favourite, so I just had to,” he shrugged. She didn’t quite have the words to say how much it meant to her or even begin to process how thoughtful he had been, so she just hugged him, another bone-crushing hug that she just hoped got across how happy and grateful she was and Y/N assumes it did when she felt his lips pucker against the top of her head and his arms wrap around her as they embraced in the middle of the cobbles. 

***

Just as they left the apartment Harry stopped her and tied a silk neck scarf around her throat that he had been carrying in his pocket. “Now you look the part, Audrey Hepburn,” he booped the end of her nose before positioning her in the middle of the street, taking a couple of pictures of her on his camera, before pulling out his phone to get one of her on there as well. 

“Wait, take one with me,” Y/N reached towards him.

“Nope, this is all you this time, Miss Hepburn,” he took a few extra candid shots before he stretched out his hand to grab hers and be on their way. They had both explored Rome extensively, both separately and together so weren’t rushing to the major tourist hot spots, however on their walk they noticed the Trevi fountain was only about 10 minutes from the apartment and had to stop by for a wish. Y/N dug through her purse to find them both a coin and stood side by side holding hands, fluttered their eyes closed and wished, tossing the coin over their shoulders. 

“Y’know the rules H, so don’t even ask,” Y/N warned him before he even had the chance to open his mouth. 

“Yeah, well, didn’t want to know your wish anyway,” he pouted defiantly. 

“Don’t lie, you so want to know,” she smirked. 

“Whatever,” Harry rolled his eyes playfully before leading them out of the piazza, “right c’mon I’ve got something for us to do tonight.”

“Ooh, what’s that?” Y/N quizzed.

“You’ll just need to follow me and find out, won’t you?” he kept walking. They walked for nearly 40 minutes, they probably could have done it in half that, but Harry just kept stopping her to take pictures of them both, but mostly her, as the summer sun sunk down around them, casting her in a warm glow. “The lightings perfect, just stop for a sec,” and “wait, jus’ one more f’me,” and utterances of “so beautiful,” as he looked through his viewfinder and at the screen of his phone as he clicked away happily. Y/N had to agree, the lighting and backdrop of the city was beautiful, she didn’t know that Harry was more so calling his subject matter beautiful.

“Fun fact, this is the oldest bridge in Rome,” Harry said stopping in front of it. 

“Yeah?” she replied looking up at him as he took in the area. 

“Mhm, according to google, the Ponte Fabrico,” he put on his best accent, which to be fair, was actually pretty good.

“Where does said old bridge, lead us to?” she toyed with her neck scarf.

“Isola Tiberina, or Tiber Island,” Harry pointed towards the opposite end of the bridge as they began walking over it, “there’s a couple of mad myths about the island but we’re not here for that, they do a film festival every summer, while we’re not seeing a film, they have like pop-up bars and restaurants, thought we could just take a wander round, eat, drink, be merry y’know,” he smiled letting her loop her arm in his as she stumbled over a cobblestone that was raised higher than the surrounding ones. 

“It’s so beautiful,” Y/N sighed while noticing the tents that lined the island along the river as they made their way onto the island. 

They ate and drank their way around the island, rating each of their samples of food on a scale of 1 to 5 but nothing really scoring under a 3.5. Y/N eventually had Harry help her untie the neck scarf that was beginning to feel claustrophobic in the evening heat and after the couple of cocktails they had been drinking began to affect her. He gripped her wrist and tied it around there instead in a pretty bow for her as they finished up their evening on the island and began to walk back to the apartment. Slowly, with no intention of rushing themselves back. Stumbling over each other, not in drunkenness but more of a happy daze. 

“You tired?” Harry asked opening the door to the apartment and going towards his backpack.

“Not really,” Y/N responded undoing the silk scarf from her wrist and taking her earrings out, a move that always made her feel more comfortable when coming home.

“Great, I’ve got something else for us,” and Harry shook the paper bag that had held their shared joint from the previous evening, before dropping it into another tote bag he had prepared that seemed to be stuffed with something soft. 

“I don’t think we can smoke in here, H, even with the windows open,” she said. 

“We’re not smoking, thought we could go up to the roof as well, there’s a deck up there and they have a rooftop pool, as he popped the front door open again for her. They got up to the roof and sat down at the little table and chairs they had there, the rest of the terrace was filled up by the pool sunken into the ground and the tiles were spilling over with potted plants tucked in every nook and cranny around it. Y/N was enamoured looking out over the city and the rooftops of Rome before them. 

“It’s so beautiful,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed and when she turned round, he had been watching her, before blinking and shaking himself out of his reverie. Reaching for the paper bag he turned it upside down and a thin block wrapped in foil fell into his hand. He quickly peeled back the foil and placed the block of chocolate onto the wrought-iron table in front of them. 

“You brought me up here, t’eat chocolate?” She deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow at him. 

“Well, I also thought we could take a dip, I brought towels,” he nodded towards his overfilled tote bag, “it’s not just normal chocolate though.”

“Right Willy Wonka, what d’you mean it’s not normal chocolate?” She grabbed the bar and realised the second she brought it closer to her face when she could smell it, “y’got us edibles?” and he nodded. “Cannabis is a gateway drug, you should know,” she smirked as she snapped the bar into squares. 

“Gateway to what?” Harry snorted, “having fun, relaxing, and enjoying our holiday? Plus, I’m pretty sure we’ve done worse,” Harry laughed as they both picked up a square and let it melt on their tongues before eating. Harry wasn’t sure how strong it was, so they decided to cut themselves off after a few squares each, just to see how it hit them before overindulging. 

It was around 45 minutes later when the pair started to feel it, Harry began quietly giggling to himself as his eyes were drawn to the lights that cast a glow over the landmarks of the city which caused Y/N to start giggling at his giggling. 

“We should swim, I wanna swim, can we swim?” she asked him, standing up grabbing his tote and pulling out the two large yellow and white striped towels he had shoved in there, and she lay them flat on the terrace next to the pool. 

“Mhmm,” he mumbled, grabbing her hand to pull himself from his seat as he emptied his pocket of his phone and the key to the apartment and left it with the remaining chocolate on the table. They both kicked off their shoes before Y/N stopped. “What’s wrong?” he looked over at her, still playing with her hand in his grip, enjoying the feeling of her warm fingers, entwined with his own.

“Don’t have m’swimsuit on, do I?” Y/N grumbled. 

“That’s never stopped you, c’mon let’s just jump in,” he tugged on her hand, “sort of like we’re jumping off the roof innit, like we’re on the roof right now and we’re about to jump in a pool.”

“But the pools still on the roof,” she countered, “you’re so high,” giggling, Y/N kicked off her trousers anyway, leaving her in her underwear and t-shirt, as Harry quickly peeled off his own jeans, the idea of wet denim clinging his skin enough to put him off wearing them in the water. 

“Shh, let me have this, we’re jumping, in 3..2..1,” and with that, Harry quickly plugged his nose with his free hand and they leapt from the pool edge, the warm water splashing up around them. As they resurfaced Harry had a wild-eyed look as he felt the material of his blue Mickey Mouse t-shirt cling to his torso as it became soaked in water. “Y’look like Cousin Itt,” he laughed looking at his best friend, helping her scrape back all her hair that had covered her face, upon the impact in the water, with clumsy hands. 

“My feet don’t reach the bottom, will y’help me?” Harry doesn’t know why she asked, not that he would have said no, but she didn’t really give him the option or time to reject her either as she latched her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and gripped him like she was a koala. They waded around like that for a while, giggling at the feeling of the water tickling against their skin, every now and again, Harry would squat down and dip both their heads under the water and they would come back up gasping when they forgot to take deep enough breaths. 

As their high was peaking, they decided to get out the water and lie down on the towels and let the warm evening air dry their skin a bit. As Y/N joined Harry lying down on their backs, she felt every bone in her back click and pop as she lay against the flat tile ground.

“Jesus Christ, was tha’ you’re back?” he looked over open-mouthed in shock at the loud crack. 

“Mhm, think my spines just, like, moving everything back in place from the driving,” she sighed, feeling immensely relaxed from the satisfying bone pop, the weed as well mellowing her out. They lay there for a while, taking in the inky swirls of the night sky that was littered with tiny, glittery dots of stars. 

“It’s big, innit?” Harry whispered into the night. 

“Hm?” she mused.

“The sky, s’big.” 

“Yeah, there’s a fair bit of it,” she huffed a laugh through her nose. 

“Makes me feel tiny, insignificant,” he kept his eyes trained on the sky. Y/N furrowed her brow and rolled on her side to look at his side profile. He glanced down to look at her and seen her furrowed brow before his view went back to the stars, “not insignificant in the way you’re thinking, more in a broader sense. Like me and you are just little specks aren’t we, in the grand scheme of things, nothing we do matters in comparison to the universe.” 

“Yeah, I guess, but what we do now in our lifetimes matters now and affects stuff around us now, and that’s significant enough,” Y/N mused, “and if we’re just little specks, then you’re my favourite speck an’ everything you do matters to me, promise,” she prodded his side before he finally rolled over to face her. 

“You’re my favourite speck too,” Harry mused before leaning forward and nudging his nose against her cheek as they both fell into fits of giggles again. “I really missed you,” Harry finalised as Y/N reached up to tuck his hair back that had begun to curl as the pool water dried from his locks. 

“I missed you, too, an insane amount really. Which is weird because we’ve been apart longer when you’ve been on the road, but think it was, like, ‘cause I had zero option to see you an’ there was nothing we could do to change it,” she kept carding her fingers through his soft hair, her heightened senses making it seem like she could feel every single strand as it passed over her skin. 

“Mmm, let’s never do that again, yeah? Our daily calls really got me through it, no matter how late they were sometimes,” he smiled at her, leaning into her touch.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that, the time difference thing still fucks me up,” she giggled, her mouth splitting into a wide grin. 

“Your smile is something else,” Harry complimented, thumb coming up to caress her cheek before running along her bottom lip. “Brightest star in the sky is right in front of me,” he whispered again. Then he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back. It was different than the kiss shared in Pisa. This one was more charged, and both felt a tingling under their melded lips and shocks under every touch and brush of skin. They broke away to catch their breath before blinking at each other and attaching their lips again, their tongues brushing against one another’s as Harry’s hand landed on her waist and her body shuddered forward to tuck herself in his hold, her hand in a fist, scrunching the still damp fabric of his t-shirt in its grip. Harry needed her closer, he gripped her hip and hitched it over his own, pressing their fronts together as they kissed deeply, Harry licking into her mouth, tasting sweet remnants of chocolate. Y/N still clutched the fabric of his t-shirt in one hand, the other reaching around to hold the back of his head, nails scratching at his scalp and the nape of his neck, causing Harry’s skin to erupt in goosebumps and a prickle of pleasure began to manifest in them both. They broke away properly this time, both rolling back onto their backs, staring back up at the night sky again and falling into bursts of laughter. 

“I think we should go to bed, Harry,” she said through her airy laughter. They packed up, and eventually made their way back to the apartment where they both took quick showers to wash the pool water from them and changed for bed. The bed that they were sharing again tonight. 

As they lay facing each other, Harry began to fall over the other side of his high, thankfully, considering he was driving in the morning again. Y/N however was still flushed and feeling the effects of the chocolate. 

“Your eyes are like, crazy,” as she stared into them, “crazy good,” she quickly affirmed. “Like crazy pretty, they’re green but not, they also look clear which is mental, feel like y’can tell a lot by someone’s eyes,” she murmured. 

“Yeah? What can y’tell from mine?” he entertained her thoughts. 

“That you’re like an angel that walks among us,” she said seriously as Harry cackled into the quiet of the bedroom, “nooo, m’dead serious. Your eyes show that your kind, and lovely and that you never mean any harm and they show when you’re happy, they’re even prettier when you get all emotional, the tears make them look all sparkly, like… like glitter eyes,” she rambled out as Harry smiled and tried to stifle another laugh. 

“Thank you, Sweetness, that’s nice of you to say, I think your eyes are super pretty too,” he said as she subconsciously batted her lashes at him in response, “but I think you should close them now and sleep, yeah?” 

“Mhmm,” she mumbled out before reaching out and attaching their lips together again, slower this time but no less passionate, with languid strokes of their tongues and soft hums coming from each other’s throats. Harry broke them apart as they both breathed deeply.

He uttered one final, “sleep,” before she fell under. 

***

“You’re lying to me, if you don’t think the car definitely sounds a bit dodgy now,” Y/N piped up from the passenger seat.

“I don’t know if dodgy is the right word, different maybe? There’s definitely something different,” and with that he took a glance at her. She looks beautiful he thought, comfortable and so beautiful. She wore a t-shirt of his she had filched from him years ago, so worn and washed you could barely make out the graphic, it more so looking like it was covered in paint chips in varying tones and shades than any sort of image. Over that she had a soft cotton set of overalls or dungarees as she had corrected them when he complimented them this morning. “They’re fucking dungarees, Harry,” she had griped as he rolled his eyes. They had wandered round and took some more pictures this morning, a quick visit back up to the roof terrace where another occupant of the building took a picture of the two of them leaning over the railing before getting back in the car for the drive to their next destination. 

“I don’t think I like it being different,” Y/N scrunched her nose.

“Different can be good,” Harry mused, last night and the night before that’s kisses going unmentioned but hanging and colouring the air around them. 

“Yeah… but I don’t think that applies to cars, gorgeous,” she was right, he didn’t mean different good about the car. The pet name she called him was pealing in his head like a bell, reverberating against the sides of his skull. She had called him that before, but it felt different now, good different.

“No probably not, listen just turn the music up, Sweetness, drown it out, there’s no lights on the dashboard saying something’s wrong. The car’s not been used for long distances in a hot minute s’probably just not used to it, I promise you, we’ll be fine,” Harry reassured her, knowing sometimes she just needed him to tell her it was all going to be fine when her mind started to run too fast for her to catch up with, he was her pause, her reprieve. 

***

They had decided to make one pit stop on their route to their destination. Y/N’s uncle had engrained the phrase ‘see Naples and die,’ in her from a young age, as long as she could remember actually and neither of the pair of them had ever actually stopped in the city before and sure enough it was beautiful. She couldn’t help but take multiple photos of the colourful buildings that lined the port, like little houses made of sweets, while boats bobbed in the water that lapped at the brick surround. Y/N stopped Harry every few paces taking photos of him against the technicolour backdrop and then asked someone to take one of the duo on her phone that was immediately used as her lockscreen, a house of turquoise and pink sat next to one of a tangerine orange behind them and Harry’s arm over her shoulder and her own hand against his waist. The pose they continued to hold as they walked along the waterfront before Harry pulled them into a restaurant, he had found online in his 2-minute search for traditional Neapolitan pizza.

“Genuinely, I think that’s the best pizza I’ve ever eaten,” Harry said dreamily as he rubbed the little food-baby pooch that had appeared at his stomach as they settled back in the car for Harry to finish the drive. 

“I think I’ll be thinking about that sauce and cheese for the rest of my life, y’sure y’don’t want me to drive?” she asked as Harry was fastening his seatbelt. 

“Postive,” he grinned at her, starting the car, “you’ve seen Naples then, reckon you’re happy to die now?” 

“Mmm, maybe not right this second, we’ve got a few more places to see and things to do first H, but I get what my uncle meant now, it’s so beautiful,” she grabbed her phone beginning to swipe through the dozens of pictures that had been added to her camera roll from their visit, including one of Harry with the biggest cheese pull, connecting his mouth and the pizza he was eating, she had ever seen along with the dribble of tomato sauce down his chin, proving it wasn’t just her who was the messy eater. 

“I think I’d be a bit gutted if you croaked it now, Y/N/N,” Harry huffed a soft laugh.

“Yeah?” she glanced over at him.

He quickly glanced over at her, catching her gaze as he furrowed his brow. “Devastated,” he said seriously, nodding, before leaving it at that as he re-joined the main road out of Naples.

***

“Buongiorno Amalfi!!!” Harry shouted with the windows rolled down letting the warm coastal breeze blow their hair around as he gave some rendition of the big crescendo of ‘Nessun Dorma,’ that was more shrieking than anything remotely related to opera as Y/N doubled over in fits of giggles. 

“Catch yourself on, Pavarotti,” she laughed as she scraped her hair off her face that had covered it as the wind blew it around. 

“You’re going to love it here, Y/N/N,” Harry looked delighted as he drove the coastal road to the town of Positano. “Don’t shout at me, though.”

“Why would I shout at you?” she queried, turning in her seat to face him. 

“I’ve, uh, booked us somewhere a bit nicer to stay rather than the apartment I sent you,” his face flushed. 

“H, we agreed on flats and apartments,” Y/N whined slightly, she hated when he did extravagant things for her, she never wanted him to feel like she expected it. 

“No, I know, but we’re stopping here for a little while, thought we would want something a bit more comfortable an’ I feel like we deserve it, you definitely do for putting up with me,” Harry smiled as he pulled up to a private gate before pulling out his phone and his notes app for the gate code, managing to put it in by reaching through the window this time rather than having to pop the door open. As the gate swung open, they were confronted with the large villa, the walls painted a cream colour, with teal shutters and sprawling pink bougainvillea flowers blooming across the walls and terraces. 

Harry let out a low whistle as they took in the sight, “shit, I’m trying my best to be so angry at you for this but it’s so pretty,” Y/N sighed as Harry brought the car to a stop in front of the house. 

Harry let her into the villa to explore with another code from his notes app and leaves her to it while he collects their luggage from the car bringing in their bigger bags as well as their over-nights as this was going to be their base for the next while. Harry left their bags at the front door and was on his way to find Y/N who had vanished by the time he returned, he let the air conditioning of the property soothe his clammy skin as he meandered from room to room on the lookout for his favourite person. 

He found her eventually, out on the tiny balcony of one of the guest bedrooms, small enough that only one person could stand on it with no room for any seating, he watched her from his place against the bedroom door frame, as the gossamer curtains of the balcony doors swathed around her back as she leant against the railing, leaning out, taking in the view. He walked quietly up behind her before placing his hands on either side of her, gripping the railing she was leant on, she didn’t even flinch as she felt his warm body sidle up behind her. 

“See something you like?” he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder as they looked out, able to catch a glimpse of the sea and the pebbled beach below.

“This is ridiculous,” she hummed, “places like this aren’t supposed to exist in real life.”

“Well, f’you like this one, I can do you one better,” Harry gripped her wrist and pulled her back through the guest bedroom and into another bedroom, apparently the master going by its size and grandeur in comparison. He pulled back similar gossamer curtains and opened the double doors out onto a terrace with tiled flooring and a pergola roof that had more of the perfumed bougainvillea flowers sprawled across the gaps. The terrace was equipped with a table and chairs for two at one end and a day bed at the other, but the real prize was the view. A full unobstructed sea view, where they could see how the waves sparkled as they crashed into each other under the bright sun, watching bodies mull around in the water, letting it cool their sun-soaked skin. 

“Fucking hell, Harry,” Y/N breathed out, seemingly astounded by the view and the place they got to call home for the next little while. 

“Pretty, innit?” he grinned at her. 

“Understatement of the century, Har,” her eyes were wide as saucers trying to take it all in while letting the soft perfume of the bougainvillea flowers wash over her senses, the salt-air of the sea below them mixing into the fragrance. 

“Thought we could take a walk this afternoon, explore a bit, take a walk along the beach, dip our toes in the water,” Harry dreamed up their afternoons plans as he took up place beside Y/N as she leant against the balcony, bumping his hip against hers. “Then on the way back up, do a bit of shopping to stock up the house for our stay, we could stay in and cook together tonight, eat out here, enjoy the view,” he plucked one of the paper-like pink flowers from the trailing plants and placed it in her hair by her ear before he bumped her hip again, “what d’ya think of that, sweets?” She nodded her head eagerly as she spun to face him as she stared into his face, watching how his dimples carved their way into his face, leaving perfect little pockets in which she would like to leave a kiss. Admiring the smattering of freckles that had begun to appear across the high planes of his face from where the warm sun has brushed his skin. His bright eyes glittering at Y/N’s obvious excitement for their plans. 

Harry’s plans came to fruition in record time, finishing a quick tour around the house they were quick to grab what they would need for the afternoon, not before Harry was ensuring Y/N’s shoelaces were tied tight because there were a lot of steps and hills and the last thing he needs is her tripping and cracking her head like it was an egg and he wouldn’t put it past his clumsy girl. Sorry, the clumsy girl, she wasn’t his, much to Harry’s disdain. They were staying a 5-minute walk from Fornillo Beach so made their way there first, where they could kick their shoes off and walk through the sand of this particular beach as the others were pebbled. They let the warm water of the Tyrrhenian Sea wash over their feet and lap at their ankles as Y/N’s dungarees were cropped and Harry had changed into a pair of striped shorts for the occasion. They kicked splashes of the salty spray at each other as they frolicked in the surf, Y/N nearly dropping her tote bag into the water as she dodged one of his splashes. They took a tonne more photos, Harry getting very snap happy with his camera, taking an obscene number of candid shots of her as she took in everything around them, to the point he had to put a new reel of film in as they left the beach. Y/N wasn’t slick though, Harry kept catching her taking sly photos of him on her phone in his peripheral and would see her smile softly down at the screen as she reviewed them. He kept his mouth shut though and approached a couple on the beach to take a photo of the pair, ankle-deep in the water for them. 

“I can’t wait to scrapbook the shit out of all these photos,” Y/N bubbled as they climbed the steps away from the beach finally. 

“I’m going to be a bloody fortune getting all these film photos printed,” Harry muttered as he tucked his camera away into its bag and squeezing that into his own tote bag. 

“I’m sure it won’t break the bank, H,” she teased as she pinched his arm before looping her free arm through his as they climbed the steps carefully, making their way to the little market Harry had visited when he was last here where they could stock up the villa for their stay. 

Y/N’s favourite version of Harry was this one, and those that could fall into the same category, and that was him doing seemingly mundane tasks, in this case doing his weekly food shop. She was back out with her phone camera in an instant, taking pictures of him reading the back packaging of pastas, photos of him bathed in the fluorescent lighting of the refrigerators as he picked out meats and cheeses and even a little video of him in the produce section holding out a tomato to her like he just couldn’t contain himself, “I mean, Jesus,  just give this a whiff, you can smell how fresh it is, Y/N/N.” 

Harry was glad he tucked an extra tote in his own because across the three bags they carried now, they were all fit to bursting. Bottles of wine shoved down the sides, fish and meat wrapped up, blocks of cheese in crinkly paper, their fresh produce balancing on top as not to get squished. Harry nearly had a heart attack and all the fresh bread options in the bakery and was going back with an additional loaf with a crisp crust tucked under his arm that he couldn’t fit in the bags with the other ones they just had to try. Before they walked back to the villa, they found themselves sitting on the step outside the market splitting the Amalfi speciality ‘Delizia al Limone’, that they made fresh in store. They moaned around bites of the sponge and custard dessert, the lemony glaze being so refreshingly tart. 

“It’s only been a few hours, and I reckon I could stay here forever, y’know,” Y/N gushed as she licked a stray glob of the lemon glaze off her fingertip. Harry had to blink hard to stop staring at her sucking the digit into her mouth.

“We could always jus’ run away here forever, we’d have a ball I think,” Harry said as he pulled himself to his feet taking two of the tote bags and slinging them over his shoulders before reaching down to pull her up by the hand as she held onto the final bag. 

“Hmm, just you n’me?” she contemplated, beginning their walk back to the villa. 

“Mhm, just us,” Harry reiterated trying to reach for the bag she was carrying for him to carry as well but she just swatted her hand away and placed the strap on her shoulder furthest from him.

“An’ I’ll be the woman who stole Harry Styles away and locked him up in her villa in the quiet streets of Italy, never to return, m’not sure about that one,” she dramatised. 

“You make it sound like somethin’ out of Beauty and the Beast,” Harry tittered turning them up another set of stairs. 

“You’re for sure the beast then, ‘specially with that Stache you’ve got brewing, keep that up and it’ll maybe be a real, full moustache by the time we go back to England,” Y/N taunted him. 

“Oi, I resent that…” Harry began, “you’re definitely all beauty anyway,” he murmured the last part, Y/N not quite hearing them as a tour group passed them down the steps. 

***

They made it back to the villa shortly after and packed away their shopping before deciding to start on their dinner for the evening, deciding on a pasta full of all the fresh vegetables they had bought earlier. They split the chopping and stirring between them as they snacked on antipasti they had bought while dancing around the kitchen to the playlist of instrumental and orchestral music he had been listening to recently. Just before everything was ready, Y/N opted on them dining on the balcony attached to the larger bedroom as Harry had suggested earlier so was taking everything they could need or want out there, setting up the little table that overlooked the sea. She uncorked a bottle of wine and filled their glasses full, and placed cutlery and napkins at their table along with some of the bread Harry so desperately needed. As she was about to turn back in to see if Harry needed any help, he was already walking out towards her with a steaming pasta bowl in each hand and a dish towel lazily thrown over his shoulder. He nudged her with his hip into her seat and presented her dinner in front of her as she groaned at how good it smelt. 

“Bloody hell, H, you’ve outdone yourself here,” she said as he cracked some black pepper over the top of her plate for her. 

“You helped,” he smiled as he took his own seat.

“I chopped some peppers and stirred the sauce, wouldn’t call myself a chef,” she laughed. 

“Hey, every chef needs his sous-chef,” Harry raised his wine glass to hers letting them clink softly together as they both took a sip before reaching for their forks to dig in. 

“You’re too good to me,” Y/N sighed around her first bite, letting her eyes flutter shut at the taste as Harry watched with a shit-eating grin, overjoyed she was liking what he made. 

Over dinner they discussed what they wanted to do while they were there, Y/N wanted to go to a museum she had seen on tripadvisor, as well as time on the beach with their books, and visits to all the little shops and some more time splashing in the water together. Harry mentioned something about a private boat trip to Capri he had seen advertised, that he had most definitely already booked for them before coming on the trip, but she didn’t need to know that. Something triggered the telling of an old story, and they began reminiscing about growing up together in fits of laughter at something that happened in their Year 10 science class and remembering when Y/N bumped off college for a week and a half to visit Harry while he was touring and they both realised that each of their favourite stories to tell people seemed to involve each other in every single one of them. 

“Aw Y/N/N,” Harry sighed as he ate his last forkful, “y’were doing so well,” he nodded towards her t-shirt which now had a forkful of food that had fell off her own last bite. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she whined at herself, scraping most of the food off back into her plate, leaving behind a reddish-orange stain in its wake.

“D’you want me to go get you a cloth or wipe or somethin’?” he chuckled. 

“No, s’fine, I can jus-” she wriggled her right arm free of the t-shirt sleeve and then the left arm following that as Harry quirked an eyebrow at what she was doing, “what? It’s cool, the dungarees cover all m’bits and pieces,” and she pulled the t-shirt over her head without having to unclip her dungarees at all. Seemingly a professional at that move she’s had to do it so many times as she dumped the soiled t-shirt on the tiled terrace. Harry gulped as the top swell of her braless breasts became visible, it’s nothing he hadn’t seen of her before over the years, but after how he’s been feeling over this trip, he’s struggling to keep himself in check. 

“Dance with me for a sec?” she questioned; they could still hear Harry’s playlist floating through the open balcony doors. 

“Uh… yeah, mhm, sounds good,” Harry babbled, scraping his chair back, quickly lifting his wine glass to his lips and draining its contents as she followed suit. Y/N was the braver of the two, reaching up first to wrap her arms around his neck and lean her head against his chest, she could feel his warm skin radiate through the thin button-up shirt he wore and the pitter-patter of his heart thud in his chest. Harry’s arms tentatively wrapped around her waist, settling, for the time being, on the small of her back as they swayed in time to the quiet music in the background. 

“This is m’favourite,” she whispered against his chest, he smelt of summer, a hint of citrus, sun cream and warm skin. 

“It’s Tchaikovsky, I think, sweets” Harry replied, letting his nose run along the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her fruity shampoo.

“Not the song, H,” she breathed out a light laugh from her nose, “although it is pretty. Just being here, no in fact it’s not even here, it’s being with you, could be anywhere, being with you is my favourite, today’s location is just a bonus,” she said letting her eyes flutter and Harry could just about feel her eyelashes blink against his chest and then he felt her lips press a kiss onto his chest. His breath caught and his hands came back to her sides, thumbs rubbing careful circles as they climbed higher. The fabric of her dungarees dipped quite low on her sides and Harry’s hands continued climbing until they found purchase where the seam of fabric met her skin. His thumbs resting on the side of her breasts, the swell visible from the dip in the fabric. Her skin was soft under Harry’s touch as he kept rubbing and squeezing at her sides as she tilted her head back to investigate his face, her eyes as wide as saucers as Harry seemed to snap back into his body and realise what he was doing. 

“Y/N, I-I…” he stammered out, lifting his hands off her sides leaving them hovering there, just not touching. 

“No, s’okay, s’okay,” she unlatched her hands from around his neck gripping his wrists and putting his hands back where they were. “You can touch, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she reassured nodding her head before she reached up and placed a kiss on his jawline. Harry’s eyes slipped closed, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he breathed deeply at the sensation of her plush lips that continued placing kisses and light sucks to his cheek, jaw, and neck. 

“Y/N/N,” Harry sighed lifting his head away from her lips immediate reach. 

“Mhm?” she asked, their eyes searching each other’s, pupils becoming more blown out by the second. 

“I- I jus’-” Harry tried to speak but it proved futile, they had no need for words anymore as Y/N began nodding her head at Harry’s unspoken question and he leant down and pressed their lips together. Their lips rolled and moulded together, Harry’s hands still pressing firmly at her sides, thumbs skimming the supple flesh of her side boob, as if he was trying to commit every ripple of skin, every pore and indentation to memory. He could eulogise her skin. Their kisses became hungrier, tongues meeting and licking the seam of each other’s lips, desperate for a taste. Stumbling towards the day bed, drunk on each other as Harry fell on his back as Y/N crawled over him, situating herself on his lap, feeling him growing beneath her as she gave an experimental roll of her hips against his own as he gasped into her mouth as they continued to kiss, breaking only to breathe as their lips still brushed. Her fingers began to play with the buttons of his shirt, waiting for his permission to begin undoing them. Harry’s hand came away from her side to latch onto her wandering hand to help her deftly undo the top button. After being allowed to do one, she quickly unfastened the rest on her own, pushing his shirt from his shoulders so it became a crumpled mess under his back. She giggled as she took in his bare torso and arms, the black ink of his tattoos hugging his skin, looking like he was born with them rather than something that was added later. 

“What’re you giggling at, Sweetness?” Harry panted as their hips still rolled and grinded together. 

“You’ve got a farmers tan, gorgeous,” she giggled again before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the tan line that wrapped around his bicep from the t-shirts he had been wearing, she nosed up his arm and across his shoulder, kissing her away across. “I like you all sun-kissed, look so healthy and glowy,” she kept kissing down his chest before feeling brave and licking across his nipple before biting softly into his pec. 

“Y/N,” he groaned out before sitting up right with her still straddling him as she gasped at his movement, it bumped their pelvises together as they moved, and she had to bite down on her lip to silence the moan that crawled its way up her throat at the sensation. His hands came to her front and quickly undone the fastenings of her jumpsuit, flipping the straps backwards over her shoulders and letting the fabric cascade down her body to pool at her waist, keeping her bottom half covered but completely exposing her from the waist up. Harry felt his eyes widen, the curvature of her waist and breasts as they swelled as she breathed deep was doing a number on him, so soft, supple, and inviting. Her nipples hardening with the exposure to the fresh air had Harry leaning in, wrapping his lips around one, laving his tongue over the peak and sucking it into his mouth, his hand coming up to toy with the other, squeezing the swell of her breast in his hand, rolling her nipple between his fingers as she gasped and keened under his touch. 

“More H, need more, gorgeous,” she huffed out as Harry broke away from his assault on her breasts, a string of saliva connecting him to her. His hands slid down to grip the fullness of her bum and he rolled them over so he was hovering between her legs as she laid on her back, her hands immediately going to the waistband of his shorts, pulling the tie undone and shoving them down as best she could. Harry helped her out when the fabric became caught up around the tops of his thighs and he kicked his legs free. Harry was visibly hard in his underwear, the bump hard to ignore, especially as he gave another roll of his hips towards Y/N’s as he moaned lowly in his throat at the friction. He gripped the bunched fabric of her overalls from around her waist and began to tug them down, becoming irritated when she refused to lift her hips to help him slide them down, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. He leant back up her lips, kissing her deeply, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth, biting softly, and letting it snap back into place. 

“Please,” he requested against her lips and Y/N lifted her hips immediately as he rolled her clothes down her body. Leaving her in her full coverage, orange striped underwear, Harry’s hands came down to play with the tiny piece of lace that wrapped around the waistline before toying with the satin bow that adorned the front. 

“Sorry ‘bout the knickers, didn’t think I’d be getting them out to show off an’ impress anyone,” she said shyly, focusing on the feeling of Harry’s fingertips dancing at her lower stomach. 

“God, believe me Y/N, m’impressed no matter what,” he groaned as he lifted the elastic waistline and let it snap back against her skin in a sharp bite. He stopped all ministrations and that point and let his eyes do the work, taking her in as she lay atop the day bed, hair splayed in a halo around her while her chest rose and fell in quick succession as she heaved in deep breaths. 

“What’re you doing?” she breathed, reaching for his hands to interlock their fingers. 

“Jus’ admiring, you’re so beautiful, Y/N/N,” Harry said sincerely, coming back to catch her gaze in his as his thumb rubbed the back of her knuckles of the hand that was gripping his. 

Y/N felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she gave a bashful laugh before she latched her hands arms around his neck to pull him down towards her lips in a searing kiss. Well, what would’ve been a searing kiss if they hadn’t both dived into it open-mouthed.

“Ow! Jesus, m’fuckin tooth,” Harry groaned his hand coming up to check he hadn’t gone all bloody gummed when they’re teeth clashed in their plight to kiss one another. 

“Oh my god,” she laughed, showing zero remorse. 

“Don’t laugh, Y/N,” he whined.

“I’m so sorry, H,” Y/N tried to be serious, “open up and lemme see,” she managed to get out before she loudly cackled in his face slapping her hands over her mouth to contain her ringing laughter. 

“Can’t believe I’m going t’need to go to the emergency dentist with toothache ‘cause I was that desperate to kiss you,” as they both laughed at the situation, “okay, be cool,” he pecked her lips, “s’fine, it didn’t happen,” he pecked her lips again. 

“It did happen,” she muffled out lips pressing against his in more short pecks.

“Shh, no it didn’t, just act normal, we’re all good,” and he leant down and pulled her into the passionate kiss they had been aiming for before. They were separated only by the thin cotton of each of their underwear’s and they could feel everything as Harry worked his hips in slow rolls against hers. The heat radiating from their crotches as Y/N moaned and gasped at the firmness hidden in Harrys briefs ticking against her, him aiming perfectly so the little damp patch on her knickers was just transferring to his own. His kisses began to wander from her plush lips, across her cheek, sucking and leaving a blooming mark on the patch of skin just below her ear as she writhed at the sensation, Harry forcing his hips down against hers to keep her from wriggling away from the assault across her collarbones and décolletage, licking and biting more of his marks like a trail of breadcrumbs to lead him back to her lips that he was sure he would need as he got lost in his heaven between her legs. Y/N’s hands came down to card through his hair, giving light tugs when he would pinch another patch of skin on her lower tummy between his teeth. Harry’s own hands were busy too, running lengths up and down her legs, letting his fingertips coast under the elastic of her panties that sat around each leg before they breezed back down her legs, his blunt nails lightly scratching her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When his fingers made it back up through the legs of her underwear again, Harry’s eyes flickered up to catch her own gaze in a silent question as Y/N rapidly nodded her head. 

“Take ‘em off, please gorgeous, want them off,” Y/N gulped, lifting her hips to aid the process as he stretched the fabric taught over his hands and wrinkled them down and over her legs. Instead of letting them fall to the terrace floor, like she expected, she watched Harry through her hazy, hooded eyes, sit back on his knees, scrunch her panties in his fist and bring the bundled fabric up to his face where he breathed them in deeply, moaning and letting his eyes close. Y/N’s legs snapped closed at the sight, thighs pressing together to try and give herself some form of release from the pressure that was building in her abdomen, teeth sinking into her lip to withhold the moan that so desperately wanted to make itself known. 

“Fuck, Y/N/N, baby, y’smell so good, I need t’taste you, just a little one, please,” Harry all but begged, prying her legs back open. 

“Go ahead, s’yours, take what you want, Harry,” Y/N let her hips tick forward towards his face to get the message across. Harry’s head dipped down as he lay between her spread legs, kissing her hipbones and the flesh of her inner thighs as she watched his every action. Nose skimming her lower stomach, he trailed it further, through the thatch of hair that decorated the apex of her thighs, breathing her in. She felt his shoulders quake as a shiver of pleasure ran through him as he flattened his tongue and painted it along the length of her soaking heat. “Shit,” she gasped, pressing herself up to balance on one of her elbows as one hand flew to Harry’s hair, scrunching the locks between her fingers. 

“Now I know why I’ve been calling you sweetness,” Harry murmured between flicks of his tongue, “Y/N/N, you taste…” he trailed off, his tongue delving into where she wept for him before tantalisingly teasing the tip of his tongue up to roll against her clit, evoking the most sinful noises from her. 

Y/N’s hips wriggled under his constant assault and her breath was coming out in pants as she succumbed to the intense pleasure. “H, more, baby, need it,” she whined through her struggling breaths, her grip on his curls tugging him as close as he could be as his lips suctioned round her clit, nose resting on her mound. Harry placed his left arm across her lower stomach, effectively pinning her against the day bed. 

“Still, stay still for me, baby and I’ll give you what you want,” Harry said breaking away from her centre briefly and leaning up to kiss her deeply. “D’you taste it? Can you taste how sweet you are for me?” he questioned as Y/N nodded her head limply before he made his way back down. “Y’gonna come for me an’ let me taste you properly, baby?” He didn’t wait for her response and if anything, Y/N was too fucked out to harbour one. He lingered over her pussy, opening his mouth, and letting the spit he had collected land on her heat before he flattened his tongue against the mess he made and shook his head in place to get in deeper. Harry’s right hand was wandering again, tracing patterns on her leg as he ghosted his fingertips up to join his tongue, his middle finger sinking into her with no resistance as her body tried to fight against his forearm that was pinning her in place as she felt the digit slide out and back into her at agonising pace. Harry was beginning to rut his own hips into the pillowy surface of the day bed, desperately needing to feel some friction against his solid cock. The mixture of Y/N’s taste, the glazed-over look in her eyes and the little whimpers and moans that would escape her was causing Harry to balance dangerously on the edge of finishing in his underwear. “Can you take another?” he grunted against her. 

“Uh-huh” she mewled. Honestly not really hearing what he was asking but would have said yes to anything in that moment she was so wound up. The next time Harry’s middle finger slid out, his ring finger joined it as they drove back in, reaching and curling to find that special spot of hers as his lips began suctioning around her little pearl of nerves again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Harry, oh my god,” she moaned loudly, both hands flopping down to her sides, fingers digging into the mattress of the day bed.

“Found it,” she could feel him grinning against her as his fingers focused on repeatedly tapping away at her g-spot to send her teetering towards her end. 

After a few minutes of that, Y/N was hanging precariously on the edge.  “M’gonna… m-gonn-” she cut off as Harry removed his fingers from her weeping hole, bringing them up to rub tight little circles against her clit, his tongue delving inside, feeling her walls flutter and pulse around the wet muscle as she found her release. She ripped the arm that was pinning her down off her, latching her fingers into his as her body curled in on itself as she shook her way through her orgasm, Harry moaning in delight at her taste, pushing his hips down to keep himself from exploding, his own fingers gripping hers just as tightly as his preoccupied hand began to let up on her clit. She tugged his hand so he became level with her face again, breathing deeply as she watched him take his fingers that had been inside her and suck them into his mouth to savour every taste he could get. “Fucking hell, H,” she said lowly as a low grumble of a laugh left his chest as he pulled their lips back together in a messy kiss, the wetness on his chin transferring to her own as he sucked on her bottom lip. “You’re turn, wanna taste you now,” Y/N expressed as they broke away from their kiss. 

“As much as I would love that, I can’t, I want to be inside you so bad and I won’t last,” Harry disclosed and when Y/N pouted at his response he couldn’t help the lazy, soft smile that graced his features. “Let’s save that for later, darling,” he nipped her pouted lip. 

“Fuck me, then. Want you inside, I want to feel you, Harry,” she nuzzled her face into his neck, hands running up and down, squeezing his biceps before looping over his shoulders and dragging her nails over the skin of his back lightly. 

“I want it too, baby, so bad. I don’t have any condoms though, didn’t exactly think I’d be shagging anyone this trip, let alone you,” Harry chuckled, slightly in disbelief that this was all happening, no matter how long he had craved it. 

“I’m still on my birth control, gorgeous. Please, I want y’so bad, m’aching, I trust you,” she said sincerely, kissing his neck, sucking on the skin leaving her own mark on him as her hands gripped the waistband of his briefs, shucking them down his thighs quickly. Harry gasped as the cool air reached his cock that was now free of its confinements, standing to attention and the precome seeping out painting his slit shiny. Y/N looked down, widening her eyes at his impressive length, her lips reattaching to his throat, biting and licking with more fervour she was so desperate to feel him slip inside of her.  

“I trust you too, more than anyone,” Harry said gripping her chin to look into her eyes, “how d’you wanna…” he tailed off. 

“Oh, uh, let me just,” Y/N untangled herself from their cluster of limbs rolling herself over til she was presented to him on all fours, her hips wiggling teasingly as she looked over her shoulder at him, seeing him gazing at the fullness of her hips and bum, lightly palming himself as her teeth sunk into her lip at the sight. Harry shuffled himself up behind her taking a grip of himself at his base, ticking his hips forward slightly so he could paint his tip through her folds, letting the wetness that was pooled there coat him. 

“You’re sure, Y/N?” he clarified. 

“Never been s’sure, I want it, gorgeous, I want you,” Y/N pushed back against him, feeling his tip applying pressure at her entrance. 

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Harry began guiding himself into her tight channel, groaning at the feeling as one of Y/N’s hands shot back to spread herself open for him to bury into. He groaned at the vision of her hands dimpling the skin of her behind as she moaned at the pleasure-pain of him entering her. 

“Stretching me so good, Harry, feels so good,” their eyes met as she looked back over her shoulder. Once he bottomed out, he paused, letting her get used to him filling her, and taking a few steadying breaths of his own to calm himself. He grasped her hand that she had been using to spread open for him, holding it tight against her lower back, their fingers knotted together. “Fuck, you’re so big. Y’can move,” she whined, ready to rock her hips back against him if he wasn’t planning on moving. Harry reared his hips back, and was sliding back in within an instant, creating a slow but deep pace as both their breaths caught at the feeling. 

“Fuck, Y/N/N, you’re so warm an’ wet,” Harry groaned, Y/N clenched at his commentary, squeezing around his cock as he plunged back in, “fuckin’ tight as well, so tight, but made to take me, weren’t you?” Harry panted, their fingers still tangled together as his other hand gripped onto the plush at the side of her hip, squeezing, thinking to himself he would quite like to take a bite of the fullness of her hips, given the opportunity. 

“H, you’re so big, made for you, made to take your dick,” she whined, the hand that was holding her up collapsing under the rocking motion, so her cheek was pressed against the bed, bum still presented to him in the air. They were both already covered in a sheen of sweat from their activities and the warm evening air of Positano that lingered heavily around them. They were a mess of shivers, gasps, and moans as they fell into a rhythm with each other’s body’s. “Harder, can y’go harder, H? M’not going to break,” she asked as she began to push back against his thrusts. 

“Whatever you want, baby, but I’ll decide if you’re going to break or not,” his grip on her hip and hand tightened as he began to thrust into her with more vigour, loud smacking as their skin collided echoed around the open terrace, Harry was sure they were going to bruise, but he wasn’t opposed to seeing the bruised back of her thighs peeking out from one of her little sundresses she had packed, the idea made him slam his hips into her harder. 

Y/N pulled her arm, the one buckled under the pressure as Harry rocked into her, out from under her holding it behind her back to clutch onto Harry’s arm that held onto the other, desperate to feel his skin. Harry realising what she wanted, released his grip on her hip, holding both her hands in his behind her back.

“Jus’ needed to feel you, wanna feel you so bad, H,” she whimpered, fingers splaying over his forearms. 

“Yeah?” he panted, his thrusts sending shockwaves through the pair of them. 

“Mhm, so bad, skins so warm,” she babbled and if she wanted to feel his skin, who was he to refuse. He pulled her up to her knees, so her back was firmly against his chest, basically seated on his lap and as they fell into sync in their new position, she could feel him so much deeper than before. “Shit, shit, shit, Harry, you’re so deep,” her moans rising in volume. Harry released the grip on her hands and his own began to trail a path round to her front cupping a breast in each hand, rolling and pinching her nipples between his fingers as he kissed and licked over her neck, that the new position gave him access to, but he wanted her lips. Releasing one of her boobs from his grip he took his free hand and grasped her chin turning it to the side so he could kiss her deeply, her eyes had fallen shut at the deeper penetration she was feeling.

Breaking away from the kiss, he whispered against her lips, “open your eyes for me, pretty, and keep them open, need to see you,” her eyes fluttered open, seemingly with a little bit of a struggle as Harry bounced her on his lap, and bore into his own green ones. The hand he had gripped her chin with was off on an exploration again, dipping down her front, applying a little pressure to her lower abdomen, “feel me right here, baby?” Y/N could only nod in response before her lips were searching for his again. 

The hand that had been busy tweaking at her nipple came up to rest on the base of her throat, thumb placed on one side and the remainder of his fingers wrapping delicately round the other side as he turned her head to look out over the balcony of the terrace, they had made their bedroom for the evening. She could see the twinkling of the water from their upright position, the evening light dwindling and the glow from the moon beginning to paint everything with a silvery hue. “Look how pretty it is,” Harry murmured into the shell of her ear, his hot breath fanning over her. “We’re so lucky to have such a pretty view aren’t we, Y/N/N?” he sounded almost condescending as he pulled her earlobe between his teeth and nibbled. Y/N’s own hands had begun exploring, one reaching over behind her shoulder to find its grip in the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck, fingers twirling the strands he had let dry in their natural curls. The other hand came to rest atop Harry’s that he had around her throat and urged him to apply pressure by flexing her fingers against his. Harry’s eyes were searching the side of her face to make sure this is what she was wanting from him and with a subtle nod of her head her hand fell away to grip his thigh as his grip around her throat tightened, restricting her airflow, and sending a pleasurable buzz to her brain. 

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so filthy,” Harry gasped as their hips moved in synchronicity, they were both teetering on the edge of bliss. “Tomorrow, we’ll go splash around in the water,” Harry kept her head tilted towards the view, “won’t that be fun, look how pretty the sea is,” his fingers flexed again, tightening against her throat once more. “Not as pretty as you, you’re so fucking beautiful, nothing could compare,” Harry whimpered out, the vice like grip around his cock was becoming overwhelming, he took his other hand and let it find it’s home on her clit as he began rubbing tight little circles there. Y/N’s cries were increasing in frequency as she bucked against the stimulation. “Louder, baby, let everyone hear how pretty you sound,” he panted

“Harry, m’gonna come,” she cried out when Harry gave her a second to gulp lungfuls of air into her system. 

“Me too, me too,” Harry babbled, “fuck, where d’you want me?” he asked quickly, if she wanted him to pull out it would have to be now as the elastic of his orgasm was stretched to its limit, just waiting for it to snap. 

“M’on my pill, inside, want it inside so bad, wanna feel all o’you,” Y/N was grinding her hips down to meet his thrusts as they increased in pace as they chased their high. That was all Harry needed to hear, and he was sent over the edge, ropes of sticky release pouring into her, Harry’s fingers tightened around her neck as his orgasm shattered through his body, hips slamming into hers, triggering Y/N’s orgasm as they came together. Her walls quivered and pulsed as she collapsed forward into the bed, Harry following, quickly rotating her onto her side so he wouldn’t crush her, still not pulling out.

“Shit,” they both breathed in unison, as they tried catching their breath, quickly the pair falling into giggles.

“Jinx,” Y/N whispered as Harry hummed a laugh, before placing three kisses on the back of her neck. They rested in silence for a few minutes, catching their breath and processing what had just happened, before Y/N opened her mouth again. “Think I need t’go clean up, things are feeling a little…sticky and not in a fun way,” Y/N said looking over her shoulder as Harry eyed her carefully before he leant forward and caught her lips in a kiss again. 

“Suppose so,” Harry sighed as he started to pull out, both hissing at the sensation. As Y/N stood and went to make her way across the terrace, he stopped her, “come stay with me tonight? Meet me in bed?” he asked softly, Y/N would say he even seemed shy or nervous to ask, as a flush painted his cheeks either from their activities or the embarrassment, he felt asking her to sleep with him in bed. 

 “Obviously, do you really think I’m letting you stay in the big posh bedroom without me? Dream on Harry,” she giggled, her tone light and airy, speaking to him as she always did as if their romp on the day bed never happened. She made her way back through the open doors, the gossamer curtains parting in billowy clouds around her as Harry flopped onto his back, running his hand through his hair, trying to piece together what the hell he and his best friend of nearly 15 years had just done.

***

Bedtime was easy. By the time they had both got cleaned up and dressed, them both in a fresh set of underwear and Y/N wearing another years old stolen t-shirt, any hint of awkwardness had completely dissipated. Harry was already in bed, the sheet pooling at his waist as he sat against the headboard typing a list of all the things they wanted to do while they were in town in his notes app. Moments later, Y/N was slipping under the sheets with him, a sleepy sort of smile gracing her features. Once she had wriggled around a little finding her spot, Harry put his phone down on the bedside table and was shrugging himself down the bed until he was lying on his side staring at his best friend in the darkened room. 

“Y’got some toothpaste,” he whispered, his thumb coming up to wipe away the white stain around her lip as she hummed softly in thanks. They stared at each other for a beat, tired eyes blinking heavily, muscles slightly achy from their endeavours on the day bed on the terrace. Just as they were about to fall over, they shuffled closer to each other until they were wrapped in each other’s warmth, legs tangled beneath the sheets, and they let their lips pucker together in a soft kiss, Harry taking her bottom lip between his own and suckling just a little bit. They broke away with a contented hum and let their eyes slip shut. 

“Minty fresh,” Harry whispered causing Y/N to let out a soft, twinkly giggle into the night mixing with the sound of the sea crashing into the rocks on the beach below. 

***

Harry awoke with a groan as the sun shone through the windows causing him to screw his eyes shut to protect them from the bright rays. He starfished his limbs across the bed, flexing his fingers and his toes to gain some feeling back in his sleep-drunk body. When his hands could reach either side of the bed, he realised he was alone in the nest of sheets and feathered pillows and sat up abruptly letting his eyes flit around the room and peer out the windows of the double doors for any sign of Y/N. With no immediate signs of her, he sat and took stock of how he was feeling after last night. Thrilled, to say the least, at first anyway. Harry had realised a while ago he cared for her much more than the average best friend does, and his want and need for her had only grown after being separated for so long, and now, having spent however many days constantly in her company, his feelings for her were undeniable now. He loved her. He was in love with her, and he could only hope she felt the same. Surely all their little kisses and especially last night meant something. Christ, what if it didn’t? What if it was just some fun while high or drunk? No, they weren’t drunk last night, they had a glass of wine each, both perfectly with their wits about them so that wasn’t an excuse. God, he hoped things weren’t going to be awkward. Where was she anyway? Shit, what if she’s done a runner? Harry thought to himself, his mind running at a mile a minute, barely registering the scent of brewing coffee floating through the air. 

“Oh, you fucker, ouch!” being shouted from outside the bedroom was the only thing that brought Harry back down to reality and the sound of gushing, running water seconds later as he found himself pulling off the sheets and stumbling blindly out of the bedroom to the kitchen where he heard a constant, “ow, ow, ow, ow,” being sing-songed. 

“Y/N/N, you alrigh’?” Harry rasped out; his voice hoarse from being asleep. 

“Was trying to make coffee in that stupid feckin’ pot I found in the cupboard and burnt my finger on it,” she whined, nodding towards the stove while running her finger under tepid water, a trick from her high school art teacher when she frequently burnt herself with the hot wax pot and the glue guns. Harry looked over to the stove top to see the stainless steel Moka pot steaming away on the hot plate, the smell of hot coffee much more intense and inviting in the kitchen. 

“Let me see,” Harry said. 

“It’s right there on the stove,” Y/N looked at him as if he had grown a second head, had she not just pointed out the pot to him?

“Your finger, thicko,” Harry rolled his eyes in faux annoyance as he reached towards her hand as she pulled it out of the stream of water holding it between their faces. Harry’s fingers clutched and twisted her hand delicately to see every angle. “Don’t think it’ll blister, but I’ve got some antiseptic cream in a first aid kit in m’bag,” he still held onto her hand, even though Dr. Styles was finished his examination. 

“Y’brought a first aid kit? Who are you?” Y/N smiled at Harry’s preparedness. 

“Y/N, sweets, you’re a bit of a liability, of course I brought a first aid kit.” Y/N paused her eyes path of taking in Harry’s shirtless form as her gaze shot back to his, mouth agape, seemingly appalled.

“…okay, that’s fair,” she eventually agreed, that yeah, she probably was a liability. Harry’s eyes flickered down to where he still held her injured finger between his own.

Without thinking, he brought the finger up to his lips and placed a kiss the pad of her fingertip, “there, all healed.” 

“Harry,” she whispered, feeling his lips pucker against her digit.

“Hmm,” he asked, post-verbally with a contented hum.

“Uh… um… d’you think you could reach the espresso cups from that cupboard,” she pointed towards an overhead cupboard and when Harry’s back was turned, she felt all the blood heating her face as she tried to calm her racing heart down. Her own mind had been whirring when she woke that morning so had to get out of bed to occupy herself, in her mad half hour she had managed to gather their discarded clothes from the terrace as well as clean up their mess from dinner both in the kitchen and where their finished meal had been abandoned at the table on the terrace. She had been flitting in and out the bedroom repeatedly, taking trips to tidy the balcony but each time she paused to look at Harry who was lying on his stomach in the bed, his arm reaching across to where she had been laying, his fingers scrunching the sheets that had been swathed around her body. She admired is sleep-softened features where his cheek was smushed against his pillow, puffs of air escaping his raspberry tinted lips. It would have been easy to crawl back in beside him and cuddle up to him but what if he didn’t want that from her? What if last night was just a bit of fun? Before she could dwell on it too much, she found herself in the kitchen scrubbing plates and starting on their breakfast and subsequently burning herself on the coffee pot.

Harry poured their espresso and turned back round to hand Y/N’s off to her to see her pacing round the kitchen trying to distract herself but moving manically. 

“Hey, hey, hey, stop, what’s wrong?” Harry questioned; his voice tainted with concern as he followed her round.

“Nothing, m’fine just trying to sort breakfast,” she was slicing bread and chopping fruit a little too fiercely to be considered ‘fine’, Harry wasn’t buying it. 

“Look at me, Y/N/N,” he said softly, and after a beat she spun round to face him, and Harry was confronted with her gnawing into her lip and a dampness glittering at her waterlines as tears threatened to spill. “Oh, sweetness,” Harry sighed sadly, “c’mon let’s go sit outside, we should, uh, we should have a chat, I think,” Harry gave her a smile, trying to reassure her, but he couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling that her tears were his fault, they should’ve spoken before falling asleep, they should have spoken after Harry kissed her in Pisa, he just didn’t want to ruin the trip so early on if she wasn’t interested. He guided them out to the garden, still clutching both their coffees, he didn’t think sitting on the bedroom terrace was a good idea considering the memories of what happened there last night coloured the air out there. He handed her the coffee when they contented themselves on either end of the painted wooden bench. She took a sip of the searing coffee and let her teary eyes slip closed and tilted her head back to let the morning sun warm her face breathing out a heavy sigh. Silence fell between them, only the sound of the morning bird song and the light breeze rustling through the leaves of the trees disrupted them as they drank their coffee. Almost perfectly in sync, they drained the miniature ceramic mugs and placed them on the ground. Harry kept an eye on her out of the corner of his eye as she played with her fingers mindlessly, not sure who was supposed to speak first. 

“Why’re you s’far away?” he asked turning to face her, a light airy tone to his voice. He stretched the arm closest to her across the back of the bench, beckoning her under it. She looked at him, shyly at first, before that radiant smile he knew so well burst across her face as she shuffled along the bench, cuddling into his side, legs coming up to rest on the bench as his arm wrapped around her shoulder, holding her close. 

“I’m sorry,” they spoke in unison. 

“Jinx,” Y/N said quietly as they both let out an amused exhalation through their noses remembering Y/N saying the same thing last night. She took Harry’s hand that wasn’t around her shoulder, in hers, toying with his fingers in her grip.

“What’ve you got to be sorry about?” he asked bemused. “I’m sorry, I uh, came onto you I guess, that wasn’t fair of me to put you in that position. I- I don’t want things to be, to be awkward or uncomfortable with us, Y/N, but I understand if- f’you think d-different of me,” Harry was stumbling over his words, honestly not sure what he was trying to say, he just needed her to know he never wanted to make her feel uncomfortable or be the reason for her sadness. 

“Wait-what?” Y/N shot up from his side, turning her body to face him properly, he looked so upset. “Harry, no, I wanted you too, what we did last night, I wanted you to do, I asked you to, you didn’t like corner me or anything so, get that idea in the bin immediately,” she took both his hands in hers, thumbs rubbing across his knuckles in a soothing pattern. 

“You looked so sad this morning, Y/N/N, I thought you regretted it or were upset with me if I like coerced you into anything,” Harry’s voice was thick as he tried to reel his emotions in. 

“Christ, no, gorgeous, I was sad because I started overthinking everything, you know what I’m like. I just thought you would’ve wanted to ignore it like we did with the kisses, and I don’t think I could’ve done that, Harry, I just couldn’t,” she slumped against his chest as they both sighed in relief that neither of the pair seemed to regret their actions. 

“I didn’t want to ignore the kisses, I just didn’t want to ruin the trip so early on by telling you I liked you,” he was playing with the ends of her hair as she remained close to his chest. 

“I sure hope you like me; you’ve known me since we were 11,” she snorted against his chest. 

“No, Y/N,” he sat her up so they were looking at each other as she furrowed her eyebrows, “like you, like you,” Harry said, surprised at his own conviction, he always thought when this moment came it would be a lot more of stammering, nervous, voice that sort of shouted his confession at her. “Fuck, I’d use the love word, but I’d rather do that when we’re less snotty nosed and teary,” he chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear before thumbing away a stray tear that trickled down her face. 

“Thank Christ,” Y/N heaved out before throwing her arms around Harry’s neck and laying her lips on his, catching him off-guard, a muffled hmph escaping as their lips worked against each other’s. He tasted of the bitter coffee, but she didn’t mind, his lips were soft and attentive as he grasped her cheeks in the palms of his hands. His tongue splitting her lips as he licked into her mouth wanting to feel all of her. 

“Wai-wait… what?” Harry gasped for breath as they broke apart, Y/N’s hands carding through Harry’s fluffy curls he had been letting dry naturally. 

“I don’t care if we’re snotty, fuck Harry, I bloody love you, love you, love you,” she giggled wiping the tears from her face. 

“Yeah?” He asked, smiling bright.

“Well, I didn’t shag my best mate of 15 years for a laugh, gorgeous,” she joked nuzzling into his neck breathing in his warmth. 

“Look at me, Sweetness,” there was that nickname, the one that had stuck all these years as Y/N tilted her head up, “I love you,” she could feel his smile as he whispered the words against her lips. 

***

They spent about two weeks in Positano, days filled on the beaches, strolls in the afternoons, cooking in the evening and wrapped up together in the sheets through the night. Well apart from that one night they went to one of the quieter beaches in the area and took a middle of the night dip sans any clothing. Quick pecks in the morning, lazy kisses over lunch and fingers intertwined on their walks. They were leaving Positano in a different place as when they arrived. 

Y/N was in the passenger seat, digging through her bag in the footwell making sure they had packed up all their important bits again as Harry locked the front door of the villa, she peered up through the front windscreen to see him walking back over with that bloody blue hat sat atop his grown-out curls, yellow sunglasses tinting his vision, shooting her a sly grin when he caught her staring. He got himself comfortable in the driver’s seat, belt fastened and turned the ignition on, immediately handing Y/N the cable to plug her phone in to play their shared playlist, turning to look at her. “Where to next, my love?” he asked reaching over to caress the side of her face. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, leaning into his touch, “let’s just keep driving for a bit and see where we end up.”

“Sounds good to me,” he leaned over the centre console and took her bottom lip between his own and kissed her deeply before breaking away and putting the car in reverse to drive them away from Positano and onto their next stop. 

“Wait! Shit, did you lock the balcony doors?” Y/N cried out as Harry slammed the breaks, getting a fright from her exclamation. His eyes narrowed, searching her face as if she was going to tell him the answer to that. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groaned, pulling up on the hand break before killing the engine and getting back out the car as Y/N giggled away in her seat. Just before he slammed the driver’s door shut to go check he leant back down and was calling into her, “by the way, you’ve got chocolate and jam down your chin this time,” and he tossed a napkin at her that he had tucked away in his pocket for the exact purpose of having to clean up his messy girl. 

***

MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x fem!reader #love on tour #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry edward styles

[crowparties]

not me once again in xyx brainrot thinking about camping i am so violently ill

robo deep in the xyx tag talked about how xyx likes radio plays and would go on roadtrips w his family and im like just sitting here wondering how they managed to make xyx even more my type

idk how to do READ MORE on mobile forgive me

he rents out a camper van for you both. you sit on the passenger seat, feet kicking. “is there anything i can do to help?” you ask, shifting your weight to turn and face him.

he tweaks your nose, his eyes crinkling at your pout. “don’t worry love, it’s all set. i’m just checking on the power supply and battery. we’re going to be off grid for two days. i just want to make sure.”

“i didn’t know you were a car guy, xyx.” you tilt your head to get a better look at him. he laughs, “it’s not my first rodeo. we have an old VW camper back home, it’s parked further out back, so it makes sense you wouldn’t have seen it during the holidays.”

you turn back, and watch him work through the passenger mirror. when he slams the compartment shut, he eyes the contorted visor and strikes a pose. “can’t get enough of me doll, can you” a pleasant flush runs across his face when you answer genuinely. you have no right to be that adorable.

this is what the drive is like: radio plays and informative podcasts that you two spent the past few nights carefully curating. one of xyx’s hands is on the wheel, while the other is entangled in your own. you’re absentmindedly running circles on his hand, eyes closed, taking in the sunlight. there is a map in your side compartment, and a camera in your lap.

(and he’s seen you in many fits, but this feels different. this is not the glitz and glam, or the sweats and beadhead, or the business casual paired w a kiss out the door. it’s not just everyday casual, it’s your shoulders slacked, the way the sun kissed your hair, and most importantly the small smile graced across your lips. and its terrifying and comforting all at once, how he wants this moment forever. it’s different than you hugging him from the back of a motorcycle, but welcome and beloved all the same).

you don’t know much about camping, but he’s ecstatic to teach you. by the end of the night you were able to light their stove properly and set about preparing the meal the two of you brought. it’s thrilling to work in such a small space, shoulders bumping absolute no leg room. the van’s back doors are fully open, along with the side door allowing for maximum airflow. music is softly playing from the mini speakers you brought, and he takes small notice of the way your body sways to the beat of the song. (later that night he spins you around outside, it’s no soft tempo jazz or upbeat club music, but something valuable all the same).

he loves to see what you take pictures of. an oddly shaped tree, a rock that looks like a wizard hat, a strange bug thats a common pest you haven’t encountered yet. there’s something nostalgic about it, something about it that makes him want to show you the world if you’d let him.

that night when you both are curled up staring at the stars through the starlight. he presses a kiss to your temple. “hey, doll?”

“yeah?” god, your sleepy voice is adorable.

it doesn’t escape his notice that your hand is already reaching for his, at the sound of his voice. “how about when we both get home, we give my folks a call about bringing the old VW camper out of retirement?”

he squeezes your hand, grinning as he feels you return the gesture. yes, you’d like that very much.

#IM WATCHING SOLO CAMPING VIDEOS HAVING A PROBLEM #once again i think about dating but know it wont work out bc they wont be xyx blooming panic #WHATEVER THE DEVIL IS IN THE DETAILS IN THE TAG #i like xyx being able to do slower adventures and enjoy life with you #also like being able to relive childhood memories and rediscover anlot of old passions w u #how cool… u both just geek out and are excited #get to cook for another #im sleeping im crying dont percieve me bloomic fandom im out here insane #i have to get xyx out of my system i am not built for this #i want to hold his hand so bad

[bujorulgalben]

[ well, over the last few days, the curator of this faithful little alter has maintained their stead—and as a note, the set of photographs laid out there quickly went missing and were replaced with a note that had a simple “Хвала, драга”. every morning, true to form, more and more lilies of the valley appeared, each day a few more than the rest. except today, the 24th, it seems that the bouquet has been untouched. however, lying right there adjacent to the vase is a handful of snowdrops—some of them are so freshly picked that they still have the roots with their little clumps of dirt attached (slavko has tried to keep the mess to a minimum!).

lying beneath them is a roadmap with a red line drawn on it connecting bucharest to nera gorge-beușnița and all the way over to budva riviera on the coast of montenegro. perhaps the map can be considered a little bit… acoustic! but for slavko the choice still manages to feel fitting. then, there seems to be some sort of confirmation or itinerary with the details of an upcoming week’s stay at a villa overlooking the beach there and a set of tickets that point to a train ride or two. there’s one last little red envelope laying there as well, and if anica opens it, she’ll be greeted with another letter—hopefully she isn’t tired of these yet. this time, the contents are at least a bit more robust, so to speak. it reads as follows: ]

Вучица моја,

I hope this letter finds your spirits high and your heart higher. Did you enjoy the gifts, љубавница? One for every day between Valentine’s and Dragobete. If flowers are too humble, tell me and next year I’ll give you ones made out of gold; they still wouldn’t be worth half as much as you are to me, my dear. I’m hardly a writer, a poet, or a man of many words so much as one whose convictions are strong, but, for you, I hope that I can make my point clear. My morning sun, my happiness, I don’t know how to tell you what these last few months have meant to me.

Even those days when we cannot be together, the simple thought of you and your welcome arms warms my day and turns all of my skies the brightest, clearest shade of blue. If the simple thought of you plunges me to depths I never knew possible, then every moment with you, I feel as though my heart has displaced all else within me: My words, my thoughts, even my steady, certain hands are dizzied by you. So, in the mornings when you get up and I can only lay and watch helplessly, or in those moments where your words dance on and I seem mute in comparison, know that none of it is because of any lack of feeling. No, rather, it’s the intensity of feeling beyond what words can do, and it’s the sense in my soul that I have finally been dropped into the world of lucky men. My bright star, my forest nymph, my poetess, the things in life, which were once mundane, you have made colorful; in every chime of the bells, scent of a flower, or halo of a light, you dance there in the halls of my mind like a warm breeze.

Know that I love you, soarele meu. Your last present is yet to come—but first, shall I bring my rainboots? The forests are soggy this time of year.

Твоје вучко,

Славко

[ /now that the twenty-fourth has finally arrived, surely, this plan of slavko's will reach its long-awaited climax. it wasn't the flowers filling her car trunk to bursting for the last-minute, morning deliveries which preoccupied anica's mind - no, it was the slender spires adorned by the fragile bellflowers, shyly stooping by the swelling pinks and whites of peonies, curated carefully on her mantel. anica had already put thought into drying the flowers, soon, while the colours are still bright, and threading them into a wreath. it is such a shame they won't last forever, but at least now, it'll last a little longer.

the thoughts try more than once to steer her mind away from the road. if her driving at the start of this lightning-fast shift was callous and reckless, the breakneck speed she headed home with would turn many stomachs.

somehow, she gets home in one piece and without harming anyone else. there's a whistled tune on her lips, sharp chirps like that from birdsong, peaking with anticipation when anica peeks into the living room. when she investigates more closely and finds the snowdrops, anica has to laugh. it is an endearing laugh! there is no denying that this little legion of spring's messengers is very fresh indeed! perhaps she will even replant those with their roots intact; when she prepares her garden for the spring ahead, later today. right now, it seemed that anica is still distracted by how... cute this final floral gesture is.

rehoming these flowers will have to wait, however; the roadmap marked in red pulls anica's eyes away from the white of the petals. she slides the map and letter out from underneath, and the train tickets flutter to the floor. the itinerary follows, and anica slumps down also; to gather everything back up again. only then does she read the tickets, the itinerary with its duration and location. only then does she trace the red road through her lands, along the danube. her heart races, her mind buzzes; it seemed like she only mentioned the budva riviera yesterday! and yet! here her darling evening star is; shining a welcome light on how to make her nostalgic dreams a reality!

the buzzing in her head gets louder still, and her hands start to shake ever so slightly. it all seems too good to be true. anica needs to bite her smile back; she would be able to take this time off... right? that surely would be okay? surely, surely, ]

Ajunge.

[ /that's enough. stop that right now. the snarl of saying that aloud is needed over the screeching gears in her head. it isn't too good to be true, no, it isn't. if anything, it was the kindest, sweetest intervention for her workaholism that she could hope for! no, he was too good to be true.

the bumbling sensation in her chest, which could've easily turned into anxiety, turned into joy; an agitated beehive became a kaleidoscope of butterflies. where worries and 'what if's could've blossomed in her mind, cherished memories take their place. and now, more will join them! so anica had to prepare for this! she doesn't even pick up on the grammar error in that letter!

her hands continue to shake. a giddy, beaming smile breaks free, and a giggle rings out! an elated squeal! there is no time to write a letter if she was going to escort him out to băneasa soon enough! no, the trees shall need to endure her sonnets and venerations today, tomorrow, all of the way to budva. oh! she could make a picnic for the journey out of romania, they could have a half-day on the gondolas of zlatibor! she claps her hands frantically, elated, still handing the map in one of them, before gathering and folding up the papers and tickets in it.

in her trek upstairs, she also takes the snowdrops; much more carefully, mind you. for now, they will take a spot on her bedside table in a glass of water. the map is dropped on her pillow, and with her hands now free, she plucks her phone out of a corduroy back pocket, she just about manages to string a few words together with the skittish dance of her fingers: ]

[ txt: 💌 luceafărul 🌟💖 ] I cannot believe you......thank you soso SO much!! Volim te beskrajno!!!AAAAAA!!!!! 💋xxxx

[ txt: 💌 luceafărul 🌟💖 ] IloveyouI LOVE YOU!! I love you so much I cannot hope to put it into words...half as elegantly as your letters have.....but I will try. For you...my stalwart champion my mighty oak, making my heart stir like the leaves overhead on a gentle spring breeze with your darling gestures and words. And I will keep all of your letters ;-)) xx

[ txt: 💌 luceafărul 🌟💖 ] You will need your rainboots! Yes! Please bring them soon!!!!! Dragobetele sărută fetele, after all! 💏💘xxxxxxx

[ /her phone goes away, and she plucks her own wellies from the wardrobe; half-length, bright yellow. the agonising wait to see her evening star is almost over. almost. of course, she has her own gifts for him today; in a linen tote bag, hiding in that wardrobe for later. the bag, in turn, hides a small frosted green bottle with a golden cap; a classic cologne; an intoxicating blend of leather, wood, and tobacco notes. it hides with a long box of habano cigars, all adorned with a band of deep red and cold. the smells of the last visit to budva. a vignette memory of a morning after, lazily watching the adriatic catch the first sparkling glimpses of the morning sun...soon. you'll be back there again, soon, ana.

the beaming grin only falters on anica's face for her to plant a firm smooch on the map; that beachside destination marked by the soft smear of lipstick. ]

#ok tumblr ate my last attempt to answer this and i got so mad i had to go to bed >:( #but now!! NOW!!! we have an answer #slavko mate you SPOIL her #writing her disbelief turned ''oh god i need to book time of work'' was so 🥺🥺🥺 #i had her planned gifts planned for a while but this all fits together so nicely aw man AWMAN THEY!! I LOVE THEY IM SO PLEASED FOR THEM #i couldn't control my Can't Shut Up Disease here i'm sorry 😔 #sivisoko #ic ✧ main verse

[mikesavagenewcanaanusa]

How Mike Savage of New Canaan Picks the Perfect Muscle Cars for His Garage

In the leafy town of New Canaan, Connecticut, Mike Savage is renowned for his discerning taste in classic automobiles. With a passion for muscle cars that rivals his expertise, Mike has curated an impressive collection over the years, each vehicle carefully chosen to reflect his unique vision and appreciation for automotive excellence. Today, he graciously shares his insights into how he selects the perfect muscle cars for his coveted garage. The History of the Ford Mustang Muscle Car  - Mike Savage of New Canaan CT

For Mike, the process of acquiring a new muscle car begins with extensive research and meticulous planning. "I start by identifying the specific models and years that I'm interested in," he explains. "Whether it's a classic American muscle car like the Ford Mustang or Chevrolet Camaro, or a legendary import like the Nissan Skyline GT-R, I immerse myself in the history and performance characteristics of each car to determine which ones align with my preferences and priorities."

Once he has narrowed down his options, Mike embarks on a quest to find the perfect example of each model. "I prefer to purchase cars that are in excellent condition, preferably with low mileage and a documented history of maintenance and care," he says. "While I appreciate the allure of a project car, I prefer to focus on vehicles that I can enjoy driving and displaying without the need for extensive restoration." Mike Savage New Canaan

In addition to condition and provenance, Mike also considers factors such as rarity, authenticity, and originality when evaluating potential additions to his collection. "I'm drawn to muscle cars that have a unique story or provenance, whether it's a limited-production model, a special edition, or a vehicle with a notable racing history," he notes. "I also place a premium on cars that retain their original factory specifications and features, as these examples tend to hold their value better over time."

Of course, aesthetics also play a significant role in Mike's decision-making process. "I have a particular appreciation for classic muscle car styling, with its bold lines, aggressive stance, and iconic design cues," he says. "I look for cars that are visually striking and evoke a sense of nostalgia and excitement, whether they're painted in classic colors like Hugger Orange or Candy Apple Red, or adorned with custom touches that reflect the owner's personality and taste."

Once he has identified a potential candidate for his collection, Mike conducts a thorough inspection and evaluation to ensure that the car meets his exacting standards. "I pay close attention to every detail, from the condition of the body and paint to the quality of the interior and the performance of the engine and drivetrain," he explains. "I also enlist the expertise of trusted mechanics and specialists to provide additional insights and assessments, particularly for rare or high-value vehicles." Choosing the best muscle car model Mike Savage New Canaan CT

Ultimately, Mike's goal is to assemble a diverse and dynamic collection of muscle cars that represents the pinnacle of automotive craftsmanship and innovation. "Each car in my garage has its own unique personality and story to tell," he says. "Whether it's a classic muscle car from the golden age of motoring or a modern supercar with cutting-edge technology and performance, I strive to create a collection that celebrates the rich heritage and timeless appeal of these iconic vehicles."

In New Canaan and beyond, Mike Savage's approach to selecting the perfect muscle cars for his garage serves as a testament to his passion for automotive excellence and his unwavering commitment to preserving the legacy of these beloved vehicles. As he continues to expand and refine his collection, his dedication to quality and authenticity ensures that each car is a true masterpiece worthy of admiration and appreciation.

[nickgerlich]

In The Weeds

Happy Sunday, everyone! Today concludes five weeks of the Spring 2023 semester. Marketing, for all its warts and pimples, is probably the easiest topical area in the College of Business to find things to talk about. That’s because it’s going on each and every day. In second place I would put Economics, because the economy. I think you get that, too. The other topics are all important, but their appearances in the news are usually just tied to earnings calls and management problems. 



I wouldn’t be able to write every day in those fields. So thank you, Marketing. You make my job all too easy. 



Sunday is also the day that I allow for wandering off into the weeds a bit, with topics that stretch the imagination and at first may make my students wonder exactly what is the connection to our course. Today’s is no different in that regard, but when you think about the topic I’m going to present, I think you will see very clearly how all of this ties in to Digital Marketing. Actually, Captain Obvious would raise his hand in a New York second. This one is that easy, but at the same time gives us reason to ponder the significance.



I hearken back to 2002 when Tom Cruise starred in Minority Report. Tom did not know this, but this film was made pretty much in the middle between his stints as a fighter pilot. Maybe we should just call him Maverick and be done with it.

Sorry. I drifted a little too far off into the weeds.



We all know how advertising has entered the digital arena. Heck, we just looked at Amazon Ads yesterday, and recalled how Google and Facebook became advertising companies. A few days ago, we looked at livestream shopping, yet another application.

But the digital arena is a far bigger stadium than just what we see on our phones, tablets, and laptops. It’s easy to say that all of those devices are the unreal world, which leaves behind every other thing we do in public, in offices, and at home.

What if digital marketing reached beyond those devices and into our everyday life? What if everything we saw and heard were a carefully curated experience based on—who else?—you? The audience of one concept is already established on our electronic devices, but imagine a world in which you were recognized while walking or driving, and marketing messages appeared out of nowhere aimed specifically at you?

Yeah. This sounds a lot like Minority Report when our star strolls through a shopping mall. He is greeted by name; he is beckoned come hither to peruse and spend. And all because of ubiquitous cameras that can recognize faces. It’s almost like I need to use this film at the start of the semester instead of that old grainy A.D. 1999 I have been using for a long time.

Turns out it has been happening for a few years already in somewhat limited form, but today is really taking off. And it has privacy advocates in an uproar.

I have long argued that Google and Apple Maps could do a much better job serving up shopping and dining destinations on our phones, based on our location and proximity to such destinations. But what if there were cameras attached to digital billboards, those sometimes-annoying yet always changing screens we are seeing alongside the freeway and city streets?



Yeah once more. Continuous improvements in cameras and software have made it possible to recognize people coming along, to the point of discerning age range, gender, and even race, as well as number of occupants in a car.



It’s far from perfect or up to Minority Report, but even with limited demographic information, highly targeted ads could be deployed. I can only imagine a fictional conversation back at some corporate headquarters: “Hey, here comes a mature male traveling alone. I bet he could use a beer!”

At which point I would say, “Where?”

|While they may not be able recognize me just yet—unless they can read my front license plate and tap into Texas’ DMV—I can see that day coming. We are approaching it with Amazon’s Just Walk Out technology, although that is more app-recognition than facial. For now.

Of course, this is all allowable because in the US, there is little if any expectation of privacy. This would meet significant resistance in Europe, where the GDPR—General Data Protection Regulation—provides far more personal protection than we have in the US. In fact, the GDPR is what caused websites to have that annoying pop-up asking us if we accept cookies. I’m not sure whether to say “Way to go” or “Thank you very much.”

I’m good with it, though, because I want my life to be ever more curated. It keeps making my life easier, from the music and shows I stream, the books I read, the foods I eat. It allows me to cut to the chase, and if in the process of these exchanges I have allowed them to look far behind the curtain that might otherwise shield me from others, I’m good. It’s on me. It’s the price of living in the 21C. I’m just not sure how it will all work for those who despise all this, though.



In any regard, it is coming soon to the US, unless new laws were enacted similar to GDPR. The day is coming soon when we will be recognized not just as a mature white male driving on I-40, but me. Yours truly. And you truly.

Because digital marketing is not limited to just the devices we own. It has now spread its tentacles to the entire public sphere. And just like Tom Cruise, we will here marketing messages designed for us. There’s that audience of one thing again, but now in the whole wide world. Or in the weeds.



Your call. Happy Sunday, y’all.

Dr “Waiting For That Beer Call On The 40“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #digital #advertising #billboards #MinorityReport

[motorpedia]

Celebration of 50th anniversary of the National Motor Museum and unveiling of The Story of Motoring in 50 Objects

Hundreds of cars gathered to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the National Motor Museum at Beaulieu as guests and visitors discovered the final selection to tell The Story of Motoring in 50 Objects.

Owners of Seventies classics joined the party in their Escorts, Minis and Ford Cortinas, as some even dressed for the decade to take part in the 1970s Classic Car Drive-In Day on Sunday 3rd July. Lord Montagu asked young ambassadors of Starter Motor – the charity which aims to get the next generation driving, maintaining and enjoying classic cars – to choose the best car of the show on his behalf. They chose the Lotus Elan Series 4 SE owned by Beaulieu volunteer Kevin Kinsella, who was called from giving a tour in the National Motor Museum to be presented with his winning trophy. Event-goers picked the People’s Choice award, which was awarded to Wayne Rose for his impressive 1972 Toyota Crown Deluxe. An anniversary golden paddock recreated the Beaulieu car park of 1972. It also displayed some of the amazing vehicles which took part in the original celebratory cavalcade at the museum opening, half a century ago. Lord Montagu said: “It’s been quite a trip back in time! When HRH The Duke of Kent came to open Britain’s National Motor Museum in July 1972, it was the proudest moment of my father’s life, and what we have in the museum is his greatest legacy. “In 1972, our exhibits spanned a period of about 80 years; they now account for over 130 years and so it is no surprise that our collections have expanded considerably, especially in the libraries and archives. It has been with these collections in mind that we’ve created The Story of Motoring in 50 Objects, giving you every reason to re-explore the museum. The exhibition launches the start of our sixth decade and a new chapter in the development of Britain’s National Motor Museum.” National Motor Museum Trust Chief Executive Jon Murden said: “Our next challenge is to take the museum and its collections forward, by reimagining Edward, Lord Montagu’s vision in order to engage with a wider audience and remain relevant for the future.” At the celebrations, Lord and Lady Montagu cut a cake which was shaped as one of the #50 objects – the 1930 'Blower' Bentley 4½ litre Supercharged. The Carousels entertained guests with hits from the Seventies, while Friends of the National Motor Museum Trust led their own cavalcade before setting off on a Forest Drive. Meanwhile on the Beaulieu Parkland, the National Austin Seven Rally celebrated a century of one of the world’s best-loved cars. Final #50objects revealed Inside the museum, event-goers were the first to see the final selection of the top #50objects in the anniversary display The Story of Motoring in 50 Objects. The objects were carefully chosen from over 1.7 million items in the internationally-acclaimed collection cared for by the National Motor Museum Trust. Curators whittled down the selection to a shortlist of 150, then made the final choice to include the most historically important vehicles, motoring artefacts, film footage, images, documents and books from its archives. For pioneering motoring, we had to include the 1903 De Dion Bouton 6hp which started our collection when Edward, Lord Montagu put this car on display in the entrance hall of Palace House as a tribute to his father, the motoring pioneer John Montagu. The 1908 Votes for Women! Shell postcard, linking motoring to female drivers, has also made the final cut. For achievement and endeavour, the 12hp Daimler is one of the most significant cars in our collection and was the first petrol-engined vehicle to enter the Palace Yard of the House of Commons, after being bought by John Montagu MP in 1899. When he entered the Daimler in the 1,000 Mile Trial ground-breaking drive from London to Edinburgh the following year, it was the first time that many people in Britain had seen a motor car on the road. The precious 1913 racing silks of Percy Lambert, who was the first man to drive a car more than 100 miles in one hour, have also made the final 50, along with the stunning Land Speed Record breaker Golden Arrow which was chosen for its tremendous aircraft power in a car. For technology, progress and environment, a 1907 Halda taximeter which gave taxi cabs their name, has also made it into the exhibition, together with a brochure weighing up the options of steam, petrol and electricity during the same year. Cat’s eyes and a crash test dummy have been chosen for helping to make driving safer. For art, advertising and design, the 1911 Rolls-Royce Spirit of Ecstasy had to make the top 50, as one of the most recognisable sculptures ever made. It was created by Charles Sykes and some of his work was inspired by Eleanor Thornton, the secretary and mistress of John Montagu. The beauty of Lalique’s exquisite glass mascots also put what is believed to be his first work, Cinq Chevaux, amongst our curators’ first choices.   For industry and economy, road builders’ clogs may be less well-known, while a 1920s children’s book telling the story of charabanc rides carrying workers and their families on day trips to the seaside and countryside is a colourful addition to the exhibition. Archive film of the 1913 Ford production line also shows a transformation in industry, marking the start of motoring factory work as we know it.    And finally for society, mobility and leisure, the 1952 DRH car radio provided the first factory-fitted radios in British cars for driving music. In the year of the Queen’s platinum Jubilee, we also had to choose the 1955 Royal Caravan, which is still owned by HRH The Princess Royal who enjoyed touring Buckingham Palace gardens in it, with a young Prince Charles and their father, Caravan Club Patrol HRH Prince Philip the Duke of Edinburgh. Visit the exhibition Visitors can discover the full set of 50 objects in the National Motor Museum, as the exhibition remains on display until April 16th, 2023 – using the Smartify app to scan objects and uncover more content and stories. Explore The Story of Motoring in 50 Objects as part of your ticket on a marvellous day out to Beaulieu that the family can enjoy together. See Bond in Motion – No Time To Die, featuring original cars and gadgets from the latest 007 film, the World of Top Gear and On Screen Cars. Ride on a ‘skytrain’ monorail, have big fun in Little Beaulieu’s adventure play area, experience life ‘upstairs and downstairs’ in Palace House, walk in the footsteps of monks at Beaulieu Abbey, find out about special agents in the Secret Army Exhibition and saunter through the beautiful grounds and gardens. For tickets and details see www.beaulieu.co.uk or call 01590 612345. See highlights of the 50 objects selection and join the conversation with #50objects on Twitter @Beaulieu_Hants, Facebook at /nationalmotormuseum or Instagram @national_motor_museum Read the full article

[piratekane]

Bloom: a Dani+Jamie playlist

1. waking up slowly (piano version) - gabrielle aplin / 2. north - sleeping at last / 3. pieces - andrew belle/ 4. the few things - jp saxe / 5. two - sleeping at last / 6. all i want - kodaline / 7. someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic / 8. bloom - the paper kites / 9. wherever you are - kodaline / 10. love worth saving - griffin peterson / 11. i’m with you - vance joy / 12. girl (acoustic) - syml / 13. saving grace - kodaline / 14. we’re going home - vance joy / 15. promise - ben howard / 16. heal - tom odell / 17. miles apart - nick wilson / 18. feels like this - maisie peters / 19. for all you give - the paper kites ft. lucy rose / 20. light me up - ingrid michaelson / 21. wonderfully made - joel ansett / 22. make it out - boundary run

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani clayton #jamie #i can’t put them down and nothing makes sense right now so have a playlist #carefully curated while driving in my car #spotty photoshop by me #honestly i’m trying to find some light in this dark and they’re it right now #there’s more kodaline than i thought was on here but shrug.emoji #to the four people who listen to this i hope you enjoy it

[takecareluv]

happy meal || vinnie hacker x reader

both you and vinnie lived extremely busy lives. between vinnie’s success on various social media platforms, as well as your own creative endeavors, it was difficult to find quality alone time. with that being said, you both thought it would be a good idea to set aside one night a week to partake in a fun little date night, rotating who would plan the activities. this week it was vinnie’s turn and he went with one of the couple’s classic date night options, knowing it was particularly his girlfriend’s favorite.

the two began the night off in the mcdonald’s drive thru ordering themselves almost everything on the menu, most importantly a happy meal.

now they didn’t necessarily care about the food in the meal typically meant for children, but the special toy inside. you see on their very first date, in which they also grabbed a quick bite to eat at the very same mcdonald’s, y/n got herself a chicken nugget kid’s meal that included an avenger’s toy that she still had to this day. that started their collection of similar happy meal toys to commemorate each date they went on to their favorite fast food joint.

after receiving two bags full of deliciously greasy food, vinnie put the car back in drive and as if in auto pilot, drove to the pair’s secret spot that they frequently found themselves at on nights like this.

once they arrived at their destination, y/n quickly ripped open the cardboard box to retrieve the highly anticipated toy.

“it’s stitch!” she squealed excitedly.

vinnie just laughed, admiring the cuteness of the girl sitting beside him. he loved how excited she got over what most would consider to be the tiniest things.

once the excitement was over, they dived into the bag loaded with food, stuffing their face with fries, nuggets, and y/n’s go to: a mc chicken.

as they continued to eat, the couple sat in a peaceful quietness, appreciating each other’s presence along with the dazzling lights of the city skyline in front of them.

after the last bite was taken, vinnie started driving again while y/n connected to the aux, putting on the specially curated playlist for the couple’s late night drives.

driving around for hours on end, they sang along to their favorite songs not caring how out of tune they may have sounded.

as it was beginning to get noticeably quieter in the car without y/n’s loud singing, vinnie looked over to see the girl dozing off. he decided then it was time to end the night and turn the car back around to head home.

after a short drive, vinnie parked, walking to the other side of the bright yellow car to carry a now sleeping y/n to the couple’s shared bedroom.

placing her carefully on the bed, he pulled off her shoes and his her sweatshirt, allowing the girl to get comfortable.

getting into bed on the other side, the two fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

yet another successful date night for the books.

a.n. hiii here’s my second imagine, hope u guys enjoy. again this is not edited so please mind any mistakes. all my love, meg <3

#vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vinnie x you #vinnie hacker x y/n

[tricktster]

the twilight series suddenly makes 100% more sense if you read them under a specific premise that, i contend, is heavily supported by the text:

Much like Amy’s diary in Gone Girl, the books in the Twilight Saga are verbatim reproductions of in-universe diary entries carefully and deliberately created and curated by badass unreliable narrator Bella Swan as a means to achieve immortality.

Prerequisite assumptions:

1) Bella actively and persistently wants to become a vampire, both diagetically and (I contend) non-diagetically. The average vampire novel format often fails to capture realistic human behavior in one highly specific area: the protagonists are frequently mortals who grapple with the choice of whether to become a vampire. This is stupid, because being a vampire would obviously be dope as hell; particularly in the Twilight Universe, where vampires are not required to take a human life to survive, and indeed, have the capacity to live full and rewarding lives while integrated* into the human community.

(*integrated-ish; see Assumption 6)

2. There are too many coincidences for Bella to have encountered the Cullens by sheer chance, only to be the ONE person that Edward can’t live without (due largely to the novelty factor of not being able to read her ding-dang thoughts.)

3. Diagetically, the Volturi don’t even know Bella’s psyonic gifts until New Moon, but we also know that the Volturi scour the globe for recruits to enlist into the protection of their governing body.

4. Nobody wants to be a voiceless cog in a bureaucracy.

5. Nobody, and especially nobody in high school, wants to be a high school student forever.

6. Vampires in twilight are, as a group, cartoonishly terrible at disguising their true nature.

7. Forks is a backwater town approximately 3.5 hours away from the biotech hub of Seattle.

7. George W. Bush and Dick Cheney can eat my farts and they deserve to be preserved in this snapshot of an innocent author’s mind slowly unraveling.

Proposed timeline:

In 1993, there is a key system meltdown at a improvised biohacking startup in Seattle, rendering all innovative genetic modification experiments into a puddle of brown sludge that nobody can figure out how to dispose of per Federal regs, since they don’t even know what it is.

The broke founder of the startup, who for the purposes of this timeline I will call Jeff Bezos because that’s who it was, eventually grows tired of all the discussion about what to do, and just pops it in a barrel, drives a few hours out of town, and dumps it in a pond.

Bella Swan, a small child, is hanging out at a park with her family friend Jacob Black (and a ton of his friends) when they all decide to wade in a slightly murky pond. Thereafter, they are transformed.

Bella grows up as a normal, highly powerful mutant with a +20 to deception checks and wisdom saves. She lives in Arizona, but up until 2002, summers in Forks. While in Forks, she picks up on the local lore about a family of vampires who don’t eat people.

Because Forks (population: 17 + Charlie’s mustache) is boring, Bella bones up on the only interesting thing about it, i.e. Vampire Hometown baybeeeee.

In 2000, George W. Bush gets elected president, and his evangelical politics and general bumbling ineptitude informs Bella’s opinions on authoritative governmental entities.

In 2001, the Cullens make their intention to move back to Forks known, but they take a while because they need to pack all their stupid graduation hats and volvos, etc.

Later in 2001, a psychic Volturi scout rolls through Forks to ensure that nobody within living memory recalls the Cullens, and notices an anomaly in the psychic field.

The scout goes to confront Bella about joining the Volturi, and Bella immediately clocks him as a vampire, because vampires in the Twilight Universe fucking suck at looking/acting human. This leaves the scout in a bind: she’s too valuable to kill, but she’s a pre-teen, and therefore too young to be transformed per Volturi authority.

The scout warns her he’ll have to kill her if she discusses the existence of vampires with any human. He then tells her he’ll be back in five years, and begins to sweet talk her on how good life will be when she’s a vampire, beautiful, immortal, powerful, etc. Bella asks if she has to kill, and dude says “nah, actually there’s a bunch of vegetarian vampires who are moving back here soon. Fucking nerds, but otherwise they’re doing well.” Bella is all about becoming a vampire, because Bella is a rational actor.

Bella moves to Arizona, and as the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are unjustifiedly initiated, she recognizes that while she DOES want to be a vampire, she does NOT want to be a foot soldier in any war that she can’t support. She needs a plan.

In 2004, Bella is watching her step-dad’s minor league baseball game when it occurs to her. On her own, she’s a target for the Volturi, but if she had some people to watch her back, she might be okay. Of course, nobody fucks with the Volturi on behalf of some rando human. She’ll need to con her way into a coven who’ll have her back and also give her that +10 to constitution via vampiric transformation, which she desperately wants because she’s a rational actor. And where are the non-volturi vampires that might have her back? Fucking Forks.

Bella moves to Forks in 2004, and upon seeing the Cullens, she immediately clocks them as vampires even though they left their “we’re all vampires” booty shorts at home, because, as previously discussed, vampires in the Twilight Universe fucking suck at looking/acting human.

Bella notes that all the vampires but one are paired off in heterosexual bliss, and takes note of the straggler as a potential vehicle to vampyrdom.

Bella figures out that Eddie can read everyone’s mind but hers, because Edward Cullen fucking sucks at looking/acting like a human who can’t read minds. Bella further observes that Eddie has a huge undead boner for her.

She’s found her mark. Now she just needs to convince him that she’s better off as part of the coven than on her own. Problem: Eddie’s a self-pitying insufferably guilt-striken perpetual adolescent who keeps himself busy by feeling sorry for himself because he’s a vampire, angst angst angst etc etc. Also, I think he’s Catholic, so add some more guilt in. She’ll have to win him over by convincing him that they’re destined to be soulmates.

What does a vampire used to having complete insight into everyone’s mind but his crush’s want? A method to know what she really thinks of him. Bella begins writing a “diary” knowing that there’s no way in hell Eddie won’t sneak in and read it. So she Gone Girls it, and begins to lay a trap to lure him in. That first diary? Twilight.

This was just in the movie but a stoner chases her around with a worm on a stick. Nothing to do with this theory, I just like that part of the movie. Where’s my spinoff about that guy?

Eddie won’t give Bella what she wants (eternal life) by the end of book 1, even though she asks him to EXTREMELY POLITELY. Time to hit the diary with some more promises of undying love.

Bella reconnects with her old friend Jacob and the rest of the Mutated By Jeff Bezos Boys. Alas, they cannot turn her into a physically powerful sexy immortal with a bite, so she’s still stuck with plan A) win over a whole family of vampires with big Mormon energy. It’s the long con.

Edward’s angst abruptly takes a swing towards terminal. He’s absolutely your classic sadboy, perhaps because Bella now has one (1) friend that he knows about.

When Eddie begins to drift away on account of Angst, Bella conjurs up a secondary love interest who, coincidentally, is ALSO a sexy supernatural entity, and is much less coincidentally just Jacob.

We should establish here that Edward is like a 107 year old white dude and so even though Diary!Bella pretends not to see it, Metatextual Frame Story!Bella knows that dude is super racist.

Jacob Black is three things: 1. Like Bella, a mutant (although one with shapeshifting abilities), 2.one of Bella’s oldest and most trusted confidants, and 3. down to clown on an elderly teenage vampire who keeps stereotyping him. Sure, says Jacob, I’ll take the form of a werewolf. He seriously thinks we’re all just beastmen, huh? Hey look at me now, I’m Regis Philbin because this is 2005 and Who Wants to be a Millionaire is still sort of relevant. Sick.

Edward does not like that Bella has one (1) other friend. Bella and Jacob plot to use this to their advantage and lure Edward back on the wings of jealousy.

Eddie gets himself into trouble on account of Angst and poor communication, so Bella has to go rescue him from himself/the Volturi.

Aro finally meets her and gets to test her powers, which impress him. Now she’s back on the fucking radar.

I forget everything that happens in Eclipse, so i have chosen to omit that part.

Eventually she extracts a quid pro quo from Eddie; i’ll marry you if you turn me into a dracula.

We don’t really call ourselves that, Wet Blanket Cullen replies, entirely earnestly.

Bella gets married at 18 in 2006, and Eddie starts to backtrack his promise about changing her. This won’t stand.

Well, look, he’s an elderly guilty catholic/mormon teen who probably still uses super racist terms, but she’s stuck on honeymoon island, he has certain angles that work for him, and seriously what are they gonna do but fuck? Bella’s alternative is listening to her “husband” drone on about his interests, which are almost certainly Car, How Do I Post a Minion Picture on Facebook, and Licorice Used To Be a Lot Cheaper in the Good Old Days.

Whoops a fetus.

Bella recognizes that she’s GOT to have this baby: time’s running out, and Bella knows that at least two of the Vamps in her coven will cut ties if she terminates or otherwise fails to carry this baby to term because of the conservative religious subtext. She’s going to have to stick it out for 9 months, even though it’s a risky call.

Bella gets what she wants after giving birth. “My time as a human is over, but I've never felt more alive. I was born to be a vampire.” That’s a direct quote. Except now she’s got a (pretty cute and easy) baby that she desperately wants to protect from Turning Into A Vaguely Religious Cullen Dressed Head To Toe In Cream Colored Wool.

Bella decides to fake her own death and escape with the kid and Jake so they can form i guess a detective agency. Bella will get “killed” by the Volturi, move to Sydney, and open up shop, and Jake will take the kid after her a few months later.

They’re gonna need a reason why Jake gets the kid though, and there’s only one reason to do anything amongst the Cullens: a heterosexual love interest with a super problematic age gap.

Jesus, Jake sighs, is Eddie really going to believe I’m in romantic love with your actual infant? Does he really think that little of me?

Yup.

Bella tries to draw the Volturi’s attention.

Works too well.

The Cullens call up all their vague acquaintances, who are at least kind of fun. Particularly that one dude who keeps getting angry about British conduct during the American Revolution.

Well, fuck, now the Volturi are bringing an army to fight their ragtag army of Vampires Who Are Cool And Interesting Enough That We Can Safely Presume They Are All Definitely Gay. Bella can’t let those guys die, they’re the first actually compelling vampires she’s ever talked to.

Bella saves the day because she’s OP.

All the Cool Vamps start packing up to leave and Bellz almost goes with them, but the Cullens would just keep sending missionaries after her if they knew.

Bella finishes her fourth journal with the vague warning that the Volturi are still out there somewhere and they miiiight just try and get her.

Two days later, she stages a scuffle and gets the fork out of Fucks. Her journals are the only clue.

Sirius Black and baby nessie follow once edward has stopped sobbing into his cream colored sweater and moved on to Extended Power Pouting.

Bella recruits her own army of fledglings.

Bella stages a coup against the Volturi and succeeds.

Bella sits on the iron throne with a hot lady vampire on each knee and they all kiss and stuff.

Nessie I guess forms a post punk band?

Edward dies from aspiration of a brussel sprout that he ate because he just wanted to feel something.

Charlie and Billy get married.

Charlie’s mustache develops a cult instagram following, providing them with a modest retirement income.

Jacob shapeshifts into Bill Murray and is always crashing weddings.

Bella’s stepdad is off in the B plot this whole time winning the world series with the help of a kooky angel.

There. Fixed. My soul is at rest.

[collecting-stories]

Here (In Your Arms) - John B Routledge

Request: hi this is my first time requesting so hopefully i’m doing this right haha 😅 could u write something with friends to lovers with john b? and maybe he gets jealous and that’s how the confession happens? i love ur writing ❤️

A/N: Don’t know why but Here (In Your Arms) popped into my head while I was writing this 😭😭

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

John B commanded the sort of attention that was subtle. It was as if you didn’t even realize you were giving it in the first place. He just lived in your head on a constant cycle and when you didn’t think about him for too long it was like the entire universe pulled you back to him. Whatever it was, it never felt requited. You doubted that he ever thought of you as much as you thought of him. Or even half as much.  

���I love this song,” you muttered, taking your foot off the dash and turning up the volume. The cassette player in the old VW bus had an aux hanging out of it, Kiara’s tape deck converter left from the last time she was in the bus with John B. You’d taken command of the radio, plugging your phone in and turning on shuffle. Your playlists weren’t as carefully curated as Kiara’s or Pope’s and JJ usually bitched about your music but none of them were there this morning while you and John B took a drive together.  

“How old is this song?” John B asked, looking over at you as you sang a little off key. He had woken you up early in the morning, texting and asking if you were up for a sunrise surf and promising to let you play whatever music you wanted on the drive down the coast to a more secluded part of the island. You always set your phone to Do Not Disturb on the weekends but John B was the constant exception to that.  

“It’s like...early aughts. It’s a great song.” You replied, leaning over the arm rest so you could sing to him, “I like, where we are, when we drive, in your car...”

John B laughed, pushing you away from him as he kept his eyes on the road. “Kelce listen to this shit with you?” He asked, unable to avoid the topic for long.  

You hadn’t been around much lately and both of you knew why. On John B’s end, all he knew was that you had started dating a kook, Kelce, as a matter of fact. On your end, you knew what it really was, a distraction...a way to convince yourself that you didn’t have feelings for your best friend. That your whole world didn’t revolve around John B. Dating Kelce was easy, a way to distance yourself from the thing that you couldn’t have. But the more time you spent on the eight, the less time you spent with John B, and the more he felt like he was losing the only thing that had been keeping his head above the water since his father’s disappearance. It was that fact alone that had made him text you, hoping you would answer and happy when you did. But he couldn’t ignore your relationship status forever, not even for the entirety of the drive, it seemed.  

“No,” you replied, glaring at him as you crossed your arms over your chest, “Kelce does not listen to this with me and it’s not shit.”  

“Hey, I know that...just wasn’t sure he did.” John B said, pulling the car onto a dirt path. “What kind of stuff does he listen to?”

“Why do you care JB?” You asked.

“I’m just asking...you know, wanna make sure my friends’ are happy.” He replied, the smile on his face so fake that it had you frowning in return.  

“How about we don’t talk about me and Kelce and we just surf?” You knew what this was. Lately, it was all John B did when the two of you hung out. He constantly picked at Kelce when you were around, saying shit about him and his friends just to irritate you.  

“I just don’t get why you’re dating him,” John B said, getting out of the car and starting to untie the boards. “I mean, you guys have nothing in common.”

You came around to his side of the bus to help, “we do too.”  

“Come on, he’s rich-”

“And what?” You snapped, cutting him off, “I can’t possibly date someone who has money because I don’t? Its so totally unbelievable that anyone on the eight would be interested in me?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He argued.

“It is what you meant!” You replied, “I’m sorry that I’m not tripping over myself to hang out with you every hour of the day anymore but I'm allowed to be happy, whether you are or not.” John B clenched his fists, jaw tensing as he glared at you. The weight of your words sunk in for both of you and you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before opening them, “JB, I didn’t mean-” You tried to say but he pushed passed you, walking down the path to the beach and leaving you with the bus and the boards.  

You stood there at the bus for a while, leaning against the driver’s door and trying to think about what you were going to say to him. There was a lot you wanted to say and a lot that you weren’t entirely sure would go over well if you did say. You had only started dating Kelce to get your mind off of John B but somehow it felt like it only made you think of him more. You took the keys off the driver’s seat where John B had left them and headed down to the beach, leaving the boards still tied to the top of the bus.  

John B was sitting on the beach, not too far away from the trail. You dropped down in the sand beside him. “I didn’t come out here to argue with you JB, you’re my best friend and I just wanted us to hang out like we used to.”

“I don’t think we can.” He admitted, pulling his knees up and resting his arms across them. “Look, I’m not trying to screw anything up with us or with you and Kelce it’s just...every time I even think of you and him together it makes my blood boil. And not cause of some stupid kook v. pogue thing but because you aren’t supposed to be with him.” John B tried to explain, “you’re supposed to be with me.”

“What?”  

“You and me...I mean...it’s not crazy.”

“I didn’t mean that I thought it was.” You replied, “I just...never really thought you thought there was an us, like that at least.”  

“I just thought we’d, I don’t know...figure it out? Get together.” John B said, shrugging, “I didn’t think you’d just like...”

“You just thought I’d wait for you to decide you liked me?”

“No, no...” John B sighed, looking over at you, “maybe.”

“I don’t, like Kelce. He asked me out and he’s a nice guy but...I don’t like him.”  

“So...”

You let out a breath, looking out at the ocean and then back at John B. “We’re a mess.” You joked, “you know, normal people probably don’t fuck stuff up this much.”

“Yeah, well...I don’t think we’ve ever been normal,” he laughed, “at least, you haven’t.”

“John B!” You shoved him, laughing when he pushed you back. “Stop, I don’t want sand in my hair!”  

“You’re about to go surf, you dipshit.” He joked wrestling you to the ground and making sure that he pushed your hair into the sand on purpose. As you looked up at him, his expression changed, “I don’t want us to pretend this never happened when we leave today...I don’t think I could handle it if you went back to Kelce.”

“I don’t plan to.” You promised.

#john b x reader #john b fic #john b x you #john b x y/n #john b imagine #john b fanfic #john b fanfiction #john b routledge fanfic #john b routledge x reader #john b routledge imagine #john b routledge fic #john b routledge x you #john b routledge x y/n #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #collecting stories imagine

[talkfastromance4]

Fireworks//ashton irwin

Masterlist

NYE Chronicles masterlist

Enjoy! feedback is always welcomed :)

• • • •

Not only was this your first holiday away from home, it was your first holiday in a different country with your boyfriend, Ashton. Leading up to your flight, Ashton was shaking with excitement and talking a mile a minute about all of the places he’s going to take you, the foods you’re going to try, and spending time with his family. 

You were excited too but also nervous. You’ve met his mom and siblings over facetime a couple of times, but you’re still nervous if they’ll like you. 

Just as you were about to fall asleep before you had to wake up for an early flight, Ashton springs out of bed and flicks the closet light on. You groan into his pillow before leaning on your elbow to watch him search through his carry-on for the hundredth time. 

“Babe, what could you possibly forget that you wouldn’t be able to get in Australia?” you groan. 

He zips up a pocket, shuts the light off then slips into bed with you. 

“I”m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, angel,” he apologizes. His hand rubs into your back and you feel his lips on your hair. 

“What are you even worried about? I’m the one meeting your family for the first time,” you grumble sleepily. 

“They already love you. I’m just excited.”

“You’re so excited you won’t even need coffee tomorrow,” you tease. He pinches your side and you giggle as he kisses your neck. 

“I always need coffee.”

**

The seventeen hour flight dragged. You slept for a few hours, tried to walk up and down the aisles to stretch your legs but you were getting antsy. You’re thankful Ashton convinced you to fly first class because you had more room for your legs to stretch but you were still feeling confined. 

“Hey, you’re all right,” Ashton says resting his palm on your shaking knee. Your fingers continue to tap on the arm rest but he places his other hand over them to stop the motion. “Only a couple hours left.”

“I’m trying not to freak out,” you mutter and focus on a spot on the seat in front of you.

“I know,” he leans in front of you blocking the background from view. “We’re here together, you’re breathing just fine and the plane isn’t shrinking. Look at me.”

You look into his soft eyes and take a deep breath. His hand rubs your leg in soothing circles and you focus on the rotation until you’ve centered back to yourself. For the rest of the flight you lean your head on Ashton’s shoulder playing with his fingers and he plays with your hair. 

Finally, when you land, you’re stretching your arms and legs while Ashton fetches your bags. You’re rolling your head from side to side and shaking your fingers. The weather is warm as you expected and it feels good to breathe in fresh air rather than stale plane aire. 

Ashton points out certain spots that are tied to memories of his. You love looking at the scenery and listening to Ashton’s stories. His voice relaxes you and you think you feel the jet lag even though you’ve never experienced it before. 

“Angel...wake up, we’re here…”

Ashton’s soft touch on your cheek and his voice in your ear pulls you awake. You hadn’t even realized you fell asleep.

“Where’s here?” you ask groggily.

“My mum’s house,” he chuckles and then you shoot straight up in your seat. 

“OW!” 

In your speed you end up klunking your head with Ashton’s. He’s rubbing his eye while you rub your head then he giggles.

“I’m sorry!” you exclaim stroking his forehead carefully.

“Are you trying to make a hospital visit to deter meeting my family?” he laughs.

“No, I forgot where I was for a moment,” you shake your head then take a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

The meeting went better than you thought, his mother reminding you of your own. She was very welcoming and hugged you on arrival. Each day leading up to Christmas was full of experiencing traditions Ashton has done since he was little. 

“When the hell did you get these?” Ashton asks coming up behind you in the bathroom. You’re rubbing moisturizer on your face, his hands rubbing over your ass that is more accentuated because of your new leggings.

“A few weeks ago,” you shrug, “they’re the leggings I kept seeing on TikTok and I wanted a pair. Do they look okay?”

“Are they supposed to make your ass look this good?” he gives you a squeeze for good measure.

“That’s the point, yes,” you giggle at his reflection. 

“And you’re planning on wearing these in front of my mum?” his eyebrows raise and his hands keep roaming over your ass. 

“No, these are just for sleeping. We’re going to wear matching onesies tomorrow for Christmas morning.”

“Is that so?” he spins you around lifting you onto the bathroom counter, your legs wrap around his waist. “I want to enjoy you in these first.”

His lips attach to yours in a frenzied kiss, his large hands roaming over your backside. The two of you end up covering each other’s mouths when you finally connect, you can’t be as loud as you normally are with his family just downstairs. 

**

New Year’s Eve has finally arrived and Ashton curated a delicious meal. When it was nearing midnight he took you for a drive along the coast then stopped where other cars were gathered along the beach. 

“What’s this?” you ask taking his hand as he leads you towards the shore. He settles a blanket in the sand and sits down, patting his thigh for you to join him. Once you’re in between his legs he wraps his arms around you and kisses your cheek.

“This is a tradition every New Year’s. Just wait.”

The cool breeze makes you shiver but Ashton’s body heat keeps you warm as you wait for whatever it is you’re here for. 

“Ten...nine...eight…” Ashton murmurs in your ear counting down with the other patrons on the beach. For some reason your heart accelerates at the countdown. He tilts your face towards his. “Four..three...two...one.”

Ashton presses his lips to yours just as fireworks explode behind you. You can see the bright explosions of color behind your eyes but you’re more preoccupied with the fireworks between you and Ashton. 

“Happy New Year, angel,” he whispers in between kisses. 

“Happy New Year,” you smile rubbing the beard on his cheeks.

You sit together wrapped in each other’s arms watching the light show and the way it illuminates over the body of water. You take photos of some and a few snapshots of you and Ashton kissing below the light show. 

When it’s ended and you head back to his mom’s house, the lights are out and you settle on the couch with Ashton. He comes out of the kitchen with some sparkling juice, his months of sobriety have been excellent and you’re more than happy to be on that journey with him. He turns on the tv so you can watch the rest of the world welcome the new year.

“I like how it’s already the new year for us,” you say as he settles next to you. “It’s like we time traveled and we’re here in the new year alone.”

“You’d want to be the only two people in the world?” he laughs. 

“Only with you,” you smile and squeeze his knee. 

When the bottle of sparkling is halfway through, Ashton bolts from the couch and leaves the room. Thinking he went to the bathroom you pay it no mind and take another sip of the juice watching the New York feed as they only have ten minutes until the ball drops. 

Ashton returns but instead of sitting next to you, he kneels in front of you, his eyes wide with excitement. 

“What are you--?”

“I was thinking of doing this on your birthday, or our anniversary, even on Christmas morning or earlier tonight at the fireworks,” he starts and you’re more confused. 

“Doing what?”

He pulls out a small box from behind his back. Your eyes dart from the box to his face about a dozen times until it clicks and you gasp. 

“I wanted the moment to be perfect but every moment with you is perfect,” he continues and opens the box. He takes your hand. “I love you endlessly. Will you marry me?”

You sit in shock at the moment, then the ring makes you stop breathing because it’s so beautiful. Your head is swimming as you realize he kept checking his bag to make sure had the ring inside and didn’t forget it at home. 

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry! I’m--of course I’ll marry you! I feel like I’m dreaming, yes, Ashton, yes!” you stretch over to kiss him happily and he slips the ring on your finger. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he says and starts to remove your leggings. When the ball drops on the tv so does Ashton in between your legs as you celebrate the new year all over again.

Taglist: @calpalirwin​​  @thecurlsofgod​​ @myloverboyash​​ @rotten-kandy​ @tea4sykes​ @jannimoeller3​ @loveroflrh​ @iovehemmings​ @cxddlyash​ @princesslrh​  @katiaw2​ @g-l-pierce​ @fairyintheglass​ @gosh-im-short​ @lukeisbaby @spicycal​ @mysticalhood​ @notinthesameguey​ @wastedheartcth​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @calumance​ @babylon-corgis​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @lanternlover2​ @istaywithmyjonas​ @calteahood​ @sarcastically-defensive17​ @another-lonely-heart​ @devilatmydoor​ @frontmanash​ @philthepegacorn​ @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings​ @addietagglikesbands​ @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke​ @mayve-hems​ @morguelth @haikucal​ @thatscooibaby​ @meghanrose05​ @idontneedanyone​ @dinosaursandsocks @haveufoundwhaturlooking4 @suchalonelysunflower​ @burstintocolor​ @zhangyixingxing1​ @dead-and-golden​ @mymindwide​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @stardust-galaxies​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @redrattlers​ @lovelybonesetc​ @karajaynetoday​ @quasighost​ @i-like-5sos​ @creampiecashton​ @calpops​ @superbloomed-c​ @ophelia-enthusiast​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​ @flaneurcth​ @dariangarcia

#nye chronicles #ashton irwin oneshot #ashton irwin fluff #ashton fluff #ashton 5sos #ashton writing #ashton irwin writing #5sos writing #5sos fluff

[mikesavagenewcanaanusa]

How Mike Savage of New Canaan Picks the Perfect Muscle Cars for His Garage

In the leafy town of New Canaan, Connecticut, Mike Savage is renowned for his discerning taste in classic automobiles. With a passion for muscle cars that rivals his expertise, Mike has curated an impressive collection over the years, each vehicle carefully chosen to reflect his unique vision and appreciation for automotive excellence. Today, he graciously shares his insights into how he selects the perfect muscle cars for his coveted garage. The History of the Ford Mustang Muscle Car  - Mike Savage of New Canaan CT

For Mike, the process of acquiring a new muscle car begins with extensive research and meticulous planning. "I start by identifying the specific models and years that I'm interested in," he explains. "Whether it's a classic American muscle car like the Ford Mustang or Chevrolet Camaro, or a legendary import like the Nissan Skyline GT-R, I immerse myself in the history and performance characteristics of each car to determine which ones align with my preferences and priorities."

Once he has narrowed down his options, Mike embarks on a quest to find the perfect example of each model. "I prefer to purchase cars that are in excellent condition, preferably with low mileage and a documented history of maintenance and care," he says. "While I appreciate the allure of a project car, I prefer to focus on vehicles that I can enjoy driving and displaying without the need for extensive restoration."

In addition to condition and provenance, Mike also considers factors such as rarity, authenticity, and originality when evaluating potential additions to his collection. "I'm drawn to muscle cars that have a unique story or provenance, whether it's a limited-production model, a special edition, or a vehicle with a notable racing history," he notes. "I also place a premium on cars that retain their original factory specifications and features, as these examples tend to hold their value better over time."

Of course, aesthetics also play a significant role in Mike's decision-making process. "I have a particular appreciation for classic muscle car styling, with its bold lines, aggressive stance, and iconic design cues," he says. "I look for cars that are visually striking and evoke a sense of nostalgia and excitement, whether they're painted in classic colors like Hugger Orange or Candy Apple Red, or adorned with custom touches that reflect the owner's personality and taste."

Once he has identified a potential candidate for his collection, Mike conducts a thorough inspection and evaluation to ensure that the car meets his exacting standards. "I pay close attention to every detail, from the condition of the body and paint to the quality of the interior and the performance of the engine and drivetrain," he explains. "I also enlist the expertise of trusted mechanics and specialists to provide additional insights and assessments, particularly for rare or high-value vehicles." Choosing the best muscle car model Mike Savage New Canaan CT

Ultimately, Mike's goal is to assemble a diverse and dynamic collection of muscle cars that represents the pinnacle of automotive craftsmanship and innovation. "Each car in my garage has its own unique personality and story to tell," he says. "Whether it's a classic muscle car from the golden age of motoring or a modern supercar with cutting-edge technology and performance, I strive to create a collection that celebrates the rich heritage and timeless appeal of these iconic vehicles."

In New Canaan and beyond, Mike Savage's approach to selecting the perfect muscle cars for his garage serves as a testament to his passion for automotive excellence and his unwavering commitment to preserving the legacy of these beloved vehicles. As he continues to expand and refine his collection, his dedication to quality and authenticity ensures that each car is a true masterpiece worthy of admiration and appreciation.

[struwwelzeter]

Allright, so ... while I work on the Rammstein Members Mentioned It Playlist, I thought I could indulge in some oversharing/shameless plug. I’ve been struggeling (really, it’s making me super unhappy) a lot lately with the fact that I don’t have anyone in my life that I can talk about music the way I want to, and as especially @tinnike knows, I have been dreaming about doing some sort of music journalism since idk, over a decade. And I guess nothing will ever change in me feeling stuck about it if I don’t start a conversation, so I thought I’d try and start sharing my own playlists, too.

I’ve always loved creating playlists, and I always loved putting a lot of effort in curating them very carefully, so this will be (hopefully) a quality over quantity kinda deal. Because I personally don’t get anything out of 6+ hours of mediocre playlists, these will be 2 hrs long at the most. They will be themed, and cover a wide variety of genres. I plan on making one per month. This is the first one:

You know, that feeling of driving into the sunset after burning all your bridges? When it's too hot, and your back sticks to the fake leather in your car and your eyes burn. Maybe it's the dust, maybe it's tears, maybe it's relief, maybe it's because they nuked the planet.

This is the soundtrack to that feeling.

You can listen to it here:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1kgxcrdmZ3wfK1g53mhCza?si=T4-38mvkQXmw6_CNLxCAPA

If you do please let me know what you think :)

#playlist #spotify #gogol bordello #arcade fire #the raconteurs #david bowie #manu chao #the rolling stones #genesis #low cut connie #follow me on spotify or something #please #struwwel playlists