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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 5 months

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@steddiemas Day 13 - Snow Day

uh...yeah.. this got way away from me but...here's day 13! (a day late and 4k words more than normal???)

pairing: steddie | word count: 5,201 | rated: T

The following Thursday finds Eddie and the entire Hellfire Club literally and metaphorically clamoring over each other and his large dining room table while their campaign (Eddie had helpfully told him) continues on.

Luckily, Robin had agreed to spend their night off work from the video store with him.

“So, when are you going to do something about your hopeless Eddie crush?”

“SSshh! Not so loud, Rob!”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Sorry to tell you this Dingus, but I don’t think he’s paying you a single modicum of attention.”

Steve looks over at the table from his spot on the couch; Robin’s right, of course, Eddie’s already halfway onto the tabletop, his arms stretched wide and the rest of him hunched low to the wood.

He’s deep into his story and his voice is dropped low, only the tone of it reaching Steve’s ears.

“He’s such a dork.” Steve sighs, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but you loooove him!” Robin teases, poking one foot that had been with her other on Steve’s lap into his side instead.

Steve rolls his eyes at her, “Hand me another slice of cheese.”

She reaches over to one of the leftover boxes of pizza on the coffee table and fishes out a slice for him, “So what are you gonna do about it?” She asks, handing it to him.

“About what?” he asks, taking down half the slice in one bite.

“Don’t play dumb Steve,”

He sighs, “I don’t know Rob; he hasn’t made a move either! He kissed me first, remember? Right over there!” Steve points to the offending doorway, “Because of you, by the way.” he snarfs down the other half of the slice two big bites.

“I remember.” She nods.

“I honestly don’t know what to do Bob, I want to corner him and kiss him all over his fuckin’ body but how’m I supposed to know if he’d be okay with that? Does he want that?”

“Oh he wants that, believe me.”

Steve narrows his eyes at her. She only quirked a brow at him in return. “What do you know, Buckley?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, “I would say to just go for it, but I feel like he’d freak if you did that out of the blue.”

“So, what, I just say ‘Hey, I really really like you, maybe already halfway love you, and I want to know if you’d like to kiss about it maybe?’?”

“Who’s Steve kissing?”

Steve jumps at Dustin’s voice, suddenly beside him. He knew his hearing was going on his left..Robin told him he was just imagining it.

“OOh, Steve’s kissing someone?” This time it was Lucas, his voice teasing as he passes behind Dustin through the door under the stairs with his arms full of pop cans.

“I’m not kissing anyone,”

“He just wants to.”

Damn you, Robin. Steve glances quickly to the table, Eddie has his back turned to them.

“Who is it?”

“Uh, it’s…” Steve pauses for a half a second, “None of your business. You guys done for the night?”

“Yeah.. about that..”

Oh no–

“Can we stay the night here? We have to start planning out our characters for the next campaign!”

“You guys are done done?” “Not quite,” Steve turns his head to the right, the older kid Frank is standing in the other doorway from the living room to the hall closest to the front door. “We have one more session then I’m DM-ing the next campaign.”

Steve nods along with Robin (whose head is hanging backward over the arm of the couch closest to Frank). “So you…six? Seven? Want to stay the night?” He's already skimming through the house in his head to where the extra blankets and pillows are stashed. He should have enough.

“No, just us.” Mike confirms, plopping down onto the carpet between the coffee table and fireplace across from the couch. “Me, Lucas, Will, and Dustin.”

Dustin nods, adding “And Eddie was going to stay a little longer to plan his own character, since he’s gonna be able to play in the next one.”

Steve turns back to Frank and the other older kid…Jeff…?, who’s now leaning around the doorway too. “You guys aren’t staying?”

“Nah man, we don’t wanna impose, thanks for having us though.” Maybe Jeff said.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve lifts Robin’s legs off his lap and stands, moving to see the three older Hellfire members off at the door. The Harringtons are polite hosts first and foremost. “Thanks for coming, guys.” What was he thanking them for? It wasn’t like they were here for him.

Jeff’s polite smile seemed to echo Steve’s thoughts, “Of course man, thanks for having us over.” “And for the pizza.” the shortest of the three says to the agreement of the others.

Jeff shakes Steve’s hand, the shortest one (Garby? George? It was something with a ‘G’) smiles again after pulling on his coat before heading out to Frank’s truck.

One of Frank’s solid hands lands on Steve’s shoulder in a friendly pat, and it’s almost enough to miss Eddie slipping out the door behind him into the slow fall of fat snowflakes outside. He was surprised to see a swath of snow had blanketed his front yard since the boys had been here.

Steve almost says something, but hears the guys exchanging their own farewells through the cracked door, so he turns back to the steps.

Will is already coming back down them, arms full of blankets and pillows, Lucas following behind him.

“I was about to go grab those myself–wait, did any of you dipshits call and ask your parents if you can stay? It’s a school night!” Steve follows the two into the living room.

The four of them immediately look cowed.

“OOohh you better get moving guys,” Robin teases.

“All of you up, you’re calling home.” Steve waves his arm as if to shove them all through the hall into the kitchen. “And no complaints, otherwise you’ll all be piling into the beemer before you can say demogorgon.”

Three of the four boys grumble their complaints as they pass him, “Hey, you’re lucky I’m even letting you stay. Seeing as how I’m the one that’s gonna have to drive you all to school in the morning.”

“You’ll already be driving Robin!” Mike complains

“Yeah but I have pretty privilege.” Robin calls from her spot on the couch.

Steve hears the door click closed, and looks over to see Eddie coming back in.

“Hey–” Eddie disappears down the hall and past the steps, only to reappear in the dining area through the other doorway under the steps. He immediately goes back to whatever papers he’s got on the table.

Steve looks down at Robin, who looks up at him at the same time, his confusion is reflected on her face.

He’s about to go talk to Eddie when Dustin calls for him from the kitchen.

-x-

“Steve! Mom wants to talk to you!”

Eddie hears Dustin call from the kitchen, and he stacks his pile of notes together, finally closing them up into his spiral notebook.

He pauses then. Just staring down at the disheveled wire binding.

He should go. No need to torture himself further, the kids will understand right? He’ll just make up something about his Uncle needing him home right away tomorrow morning or something.

Yeah. That should work, it’s not like anyone would call Wayn—

“So. You’re down in the dumps.”

Eddie’s shoulders crowd up against his ears at Robin’s arrival.

“I’m fine.”

“Uh huh.” She doesn’t believe him, of course.

He can hear the sound of Steve’s cheery voice from the kitchen, the tone he takes whenever he’s talking to one of the kids’ parents, and Eddie can feel his face screw up in pain.

“Ah hah!”

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.” “You didn’t have to,” he bites out, “It’s not like you’re the one having to listen to your crush wax poetic about some girl he wants to kiss stupid.”

He turns to look at her. Robin’s face is blank for a moment, then a barely-there smug smirk appears on her lips.

Eddie’s vision goes scarlet. “You don’t get to be a shithead about it, Buckley. This is all your fuckin’ fault.” he spits out in a low whisper.

“My fault?” she echoes in the same tone, the smile falling from her face. “What’s my fault??”

“You’re the one who made me think I had a chance, weren’t you? The one who put up that fuckin’ mistletoe? Your fault.” He pokes her shoulder accusingly. His volume was getting higher, so he adjusts before continuing. “I should have known there was no chance; he’s the one who said ‘Now we’re even.’ after he kissed me in Melvald’s!”

“He said tha—”

Eddie was practically hissing at this point, just a steady stream of steam escaping him like a cartoon character. “He just felt bad, Robin! He just felt like he owed me something, there’s no goddamn feelings there!”

“Eddi–”

“I gotta go.”

He scoops up his notebook in one hand and snatches up his bag with the other, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Eddie, don’t go–”

He stalks down the hall past the steps away from her voice. He’s almost to his escape when Dustin cuts off his path from the kitchen doorway closest to the front door.

“Eddie, you’re leaving?”

“Sorry kid, gotta go.” He steps around him, “I forgot Wayne needs me home right away tomorrow morning.”

“But you were going to–”

“I’ll help you later, Dustin.” it wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

“Don’t be an ass, Eddie.”

“You know what? Bite me, Mike.” He really shouldn’t be taking his feelings out on the goblins.

“Fuck you, man.”

“Hey! Hey, what is happening right now?” Steve comes out into the hall then, making eye contact with Eddie for a fraction of a second before Eddie focuses on lacing his boots onto his feet.

“Eddie’s leaving,”

“...Okay? And?”

Alright, ouch.

He yanks his laces even tighter.

“And he said he would help us, and now he’s leaving.”

“Oh come off it Dustin, you heard what he said.” Lucas says, an eyeroll in his voice.

“What’d he say?” Eddie’s head told him that Steve’s voice sounded hurt, but best not to believe his head right now. “He said,” Eddie cuts in, “That his uncle needs him home in the morning.”

Steve’s soft “Oh.” was barely audible over the other three arguing back at him.

He yanks the last lace tight to his calf and stands sharply.

“Yeah, so, thanks for having us over, Harrington, I’ll see ya around.” he purposely doesn’t look up at Steve’s face as he says this, focusing on his notebook and bag.

His hand just reaches the doorknob when Robin’s voice calls out from the living room. “Don’t think you’re going anywhere anytime soon, Eddie.”

Because his arm was already in motion when she started talking, the door opens in front of him just as she finishes.

The slow fat flakes from only, what, 10 minutes earlier? are now flying harsh and sideways across the light escaping Steve’s front door. It’s piling up out there, and fast. Bessie has braved many a winter in Hawkins, but he knows he’d get snowed in by time they got across town to the park.

Honestly though? Getting snowed in on the side of the road is seeming much more preferable than staying here after his little hissy fit.

“Eddie? Just stay here, man.” Steve sounds much closer than before, “I don’t want something to happen to you–” What Eddie can only assume is Steve’s hand falls to his shoulder, and he immediately turns away from it, closing the front door and letting his bag fall down his arm to the floor in the same motion as he turns into the kitchen without making eye contact with anyone.

The phone is still warm in his palm when he lifts it to his ear, punching Frank’s number into the buttons on the cradle.

In the handful of rings it takes for him to pick up, Eddie can hear the others whispering to each other, no doubt things like “What’s Eddie’s problem?”, “Why’s he being mean to Steve?”, “Why can’t he control his big gay feelings for his obviously straight friend?”.

Okay, maybe that last one was a bit much for a bunch of sophomores.

“Hello?”

“Frank, you’re home?”

“Uh. Yeah. You called me at home.”

“Well it’s snowin’ like shit outside now, I wanted to make sure you guys got back safe.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, I just got in when I heard the phone. Everyone’s home safe.”

“Alright good, I’m gonna stay here at Harrington’s; talk to you later man, I gotta call Wayne.

“Okay Ed, see ya’.”

Eddie jabs his finger into the phone’s switch to end the call, then starts to dial the trailer. Wayne should be just about to leave for work.

“Y’ello?”

“Hey Wayne, it’s me.” Eddie says, turning his face away automatically when someone shuffles into the kitchen.

“Ed, where’ya at?”

“I’m still at Steve’s. It really started to come down so I don’t want to risk driving home tonight.”

“Good. You stay righ’ there, son.”

“Are you still going in?”

Wayne hums in agreement, “Got to.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks, “Wayne–”

“Now don’ you worry ‘bout me boy, I woke up early enough to get the chains on the truck.”

“Fine, fine. Be careful, old man.”

“You got it kid. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

He hangs the phone back into it’s cradle on the wall feeling much looser now; he’d almost forgotten why he was so wound up, but seized up again as soon as he turned.

Steve was standing at the stove, stirring something that was obscured by his torso. “You want some hot chocolate too, Eds?” he asks, not turning from the stove.

Eddie gives him a short “No.” and goes back out into the hall to unlace his boots once again.

He wanders back into the living room with his bag and plops down in the recliner, pulling out his monster manual and his smaller, less pulverized notebook, the one with the basics of his next character fleshed out in it.

A tiefling bard, one he had imagined as having such thick skin on him that no matter what snide remarks, insults, and bashes to his character were thrown at him, he’d only shrug them off. Something real Eddie’d love to do. A charming, charismatic bard that got all who heard his songs to overlook his hellish appearance.

Wouldn’t that be something.

While he’s mulling over what name to give his bard (he’s waffling between Zarlech and Erron), Robin appears, settling in on the corner seat of the couch beside him.

He tenses up again, thinking she’s going to try talking to him about the too-good-for-this-world man in the yellow sweater in the next room, but she doesn’t. She only sits down and starts back in on the thick Vogue magazine she’d been swiping though since he and his troupe arrived.

Steve comes in with two mugs of cocoa not long after, walking to Eddie first with a soft smile.

“I told you I didn’t want any.”

He regrets his tone as soon as the words pass his lips; Steve looks stunned, the boys’ idle chatter from the coffee table dies off immediately.

Eddie’s face burns in embarrassment, but before he can even open his mouth, Robin says “I’ll take his,” and reaches for the steaming pale yellow mug.

He passes it over, and stands there for a moment with the other mug before turning and handing it over to Will, the closest to him of the four on the floor.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose briefly, then turns out of the room. Robin’s up and out of the room not a moment later, saying, “I’ll go help him with you threes’.”

There’s a beat of silence, then: “What. In the actual fuck. Is your problem, man?”

Eddie turns to face the voice; all four teens are staring at him, each one with a different level of incredulousness on their faces. Mike’s is the worst, looking at Eddie like he just killed his dog. And he’s about to get revenge for it.

“Who do you think you are to talk to him like that, huh?” Mike seethes at him, “This is his fucking house, and you’re gonna sit here and be rude as all hell just because he doesn’t like you back?”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Eddie hears his voice echo his thoughts. “How do you—”

“Steve puts up with enough shit from us as it is, he doesn’t need it from you too.”

There’s surprise on the other threes’ faces, but Eddie’s got an inkling it’s surprise at this coming from Mike and not from the content of the outburst.

“Uh..”

“Mike’s right, Eddie. You’re our friend, but Steve’s our…” Lucas trails off.

“He’s our Steve.” Will says resolutely.

“He’s our Steve.” Lucas agrees, “And we won’t hesitate to drop you like a dead fish over him.”

Eddie turns his gaze to Dustin, not looking forward to what he might see in his closest butthead’s expression.

Dustin’s face is set in determined lines, and he meets Eddie’s gaze solidly. “I love you both as brothers, man. Don’t make me choose between you two…Though I will choose Steve.”

Robin returns before Eddie can formulate any sort of response to..all that.., pressing a steaming mug of cocoa into each of the boys’ waiting hands.

She came in with four though, and brings the last one to Eddie. “Leave him be for a minute. I’m sure he will be fine, but he’s upset.” He takes the mug from her and she squashes back down into her abandoned seat with a sigh. “Which usually means he’s going to be doing laundry until I make him go to sleep.”

Eddie spends the next 25 minutes trying to think about what he’s going to say to Steve, what he’s going to tell him was the reason for his bullshit attitude.

For a solid three, he seriously thinks about telling Steve the truth, that he got all pissy at the thought of him sucking face with whoever it is he’s got a crush on, but that’s really not fair to Steve..or to this mystery girl.

At 30, Robin nudges his arm with her bony elbow, so he leaves his book and still-unnamed character on the chair and goes to find Steve.

He follows the sound of music coming from off the kitchen, stopping just outside the door when the low sound of Steve singing along to ‘The First Nöel’ playing softly through the radio.

It had to be that damn song, didn’t it?

…Okay, maybe it’s not so bad if Steve’s the one singing it..

He steps into the narrow room once the radio host comes back on. It’s small, but there’s more than enough room for the machine’s doors to open and to manuver a basket around in here, and there’s a side door out to the yard at the end of the room; there’s neat-ish piles of clothes in front of the washer and overflowing a basket under the dryer door, a few loose dust bunnies and used dryer sheets litter the corners.

Steve’s standing at the dryer, pawing through a seemingly freshly cleaned pile of towels on its top.

He glances up at him briefly when he enters, going back to the pile immediately, “Eddie, hey, sorry for sulking off like that. I just..got into my head a bit.” Even Steve sounded like he didn’t believe what he was saying. “I’ll be back out in a minute, just gotta take care of this load..”

“Hey, it’s alright man. It’s not all on you, you know.” Steve’s hands stop when he looks over, dropping themselves and a half-folded towel back onto the pile. “Look, I’m sorry Steve. My brain is weird sometimes too; I had some of my own shit pop back up for no fuckin’ reason at all and it just..really threw me. I didn’t mean to take it out on you like that, I swear.”

The truth. For the most part at least. He really didn’t mean to snap at Steve like that over fuckin’ hot chocolate.

“Really, it’s okay Eddie. You did say that you didn’t want any.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t give me the right to be an ass to you.” Eddie ducks his head in embarrassment.

“Thank you,” Steve finally says. “I appreciate it, Eds.”

Relief floods through him at the nickname, he meets Steve’s gaze again. “Do you uhm, need help or anything?”

Steve smiles softly, “No, I really do just need to take care of this last load and I’ll be back out there.”

A low howl of wind from outside the side door cuts him off before he can reply.

Eddie groans, “Well that sounds like it’ll be fun…”

All in all, it was fun.

After going back to the living room and confirming with the others that he did, in fact, apologize to their Steve, Eddie sat back down with his notebook and got back to work.

He was slowly absorbed into the boys’ huddle and by time Steve comes back in, all five of them are heavily debating what alignment Zardok the bard should be.

Not 30 minutes later, the lights flicker off above them.

“Aw hell.” Steve mutters from the sofa.

“I’ll start running the tub.” Eddie sighs, pushing himself off the floor and waving his arms in front of him so he doesn’t run into any walls on his way.

“Why would you run the tub?” Dustin asks, incredulous.

“You fill the tub with water in case the pipes freeze while the power’s out. That way you still have water to flush the toilets and get clean and stuff.”

“Thank you Will, exactly.” Eddie says. Smart kid.

Damn. Why doesn’t he carry a mini flashlight again?

“That’s a thing?” Robin asks, then clicks on a flashlight. Where in the hell’d she get that?

“You don’t need to do that, Eds. The place is plenty well insulated.” Steve assures, stopping him from leaving, “The pipes won’t freeze, I promise.”

“....Lucky bastard.”

Dustin goes to the opposite end of Robin’s couch and fishes another light from between the cushions.

He and the other three make quick work of arranging their blankets and pillows there in the living room, Dustin’s light only going so far as to help continue their brainstorming.

Steve and Robin leave them to it, and lead Eddie upstairs with their light.

One round of fighting off nightmares later, he’s dragged into wakefulness with the smell of cinnamon.

He re-cinches Steve’s lended sweats around his hips and trudges down the stairs.

There are snores still reverberating from the living room, and Steve is standing in front of the stove flipping something.

A square glass pan with an inch of some sort of mixture in it was sitting on the island across from him along with an open bag of bread and half a dozen eggs still in their carton.

The floor under his feet squeaks when he stops in the doorway, alerting Steve to his presence.

He glances over his shoulder at him, then goes back to the stove to flip something again. “Hey Eds, just makin’ some breakfast, you want something?” He turns to him fully then, leaning his elbows onto a clear patch of the island countertop.

Steve must take his sleepy silence as confusion.

“Oh! The power came back on last night. Well, er..” he looks back at the stove’s clock, blinking 5:08 out at them, “Early this morning, actually.”

Huh. Guess it was confusion.

“Anyway, you want some french toast?” That explains the cinnamon. “Or I can whip you up some eggs…?”

“No, no, french toast is great.” his voice comes out scratchy with disuse. “Thanks Stevie.”

Steve smiles and turns back to the stove, “The coffee machine is on, if you want a cup; I’ll have a plate ready for you in just a couple minutes.”

Eddie wakes up slowly with his coffee, watching as Steve resets the clock on the oven to his watch.

“It’s 8:30 already? Shouldn’t we get the kids up for school?” Holy shit. Who knew Eddie Munson would ever sound so much like a mom.

“Nah,” Steve waves him off, “I was up with my alarm to get them up and ready, but when I got down here, Claudia called. The school called a snow day.”

Steve passes him a plate of toast, already smothered with syrup. “You want powdered sugar?”

“Ooh fancy, fancy,” Eddie laughs, adding a haughty accent to his next words, “Bring me my powdered confectionary Steeves, I wish to dust it upon my imported french breakfast.”

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but passes over a short ceramic container of the stuff.

Lucas is the one up next, going to the coffee machine before acknowledging either of them.

He sips on his cup without adding anything to it, the heathen. Eddie’s own cup was nearly drowned out with milk and sugar.

Slowly but surely, the rest of the house wakes up and wanders to the kitchen, each getting a plate stacked high with sweet cinnamon-y goodness.

Dustin, Mike, and Will are sitting at the little breakfast nook table in the kitchen’s front window, getting steadily louder about their plans for the near eight inches of snow that’s blanketed across Steve’s front yard.

“You’re going to help me shovel it out so I can get you free-loaders home as soon as possible. That’s what you’re going to do.” Steve insists, pushing a plate of toast in front of Robin, the last to get up.

So that’s what originally got them all outside, but two shovels can only get two of them so far with the driveway before any of the other five start fucking around.

The first blow comes from Mike, a well thrown snowball hitting dead center on the back of Will’s head.

Then Lucas lobbed one aimed for Dustin but hit Mike right on the nose.

Will’s shovel was abandoned, teams were made, and Steve was left shoveling alone when the snowballs really started flying.

Robin, Lucas, and Will booked it for the bushes on one side of the yard, immediately packing snow up between them and into gaps in the branches to protect them from the flurry.

And of course, the only other good cover on the other end of the yard from them was Steve’s beemer, so Eddie, Mike, and Dustin dove behind the newly uncovered tires, frantically packing snowballs from the untouched drift under Steve’s car.

“Really?” The three of them look up at the sound of Steve’s voice.

Fuck, he looks so adorable all bundled up like this. Nose and cheeks bitten red with the cold and with the exertion of shoveling, scarf tucked around his neck and into his jacket, the dark blue mittens, one on his hip and one over the handle of the shovel, the matching knit cap—even as he glares disapprovingly at them.

“So you’re not gonna help me, and also subject my baby to enemy fire? Not cool, guys.”

Mike lobs a ball across the yard.

“Join us then! Help us defeat those heathens and we’ll help you with the driveway.”

A snowball smacks into the back passenger side window of the car

“No.”, Steve says with finality and goes back to shoveling.

Another ball soars over the roof of the car and splats across the cleared-ish pavement behind them.

“Awe, you’re no fun Stevie.” Eddie complains, though he’s definitely not complaining about the view he’s got right now.

Dustin sends one back, mumbling out a “Damn! So close..” soon after.

“Bite me.”

Not 10 seconds later, a blast of snow smacks the back of Steve’s head.

Everyone freezes.

-x-

He turns slowly back around to face the three snow-covered idiots crouched behind his car.

All three stare wide-eyed at him, faces flushed with cold.

Mike and Dustin's hands raise at the exact same time, both pointing at Eddie.

He can tell from Dustin’s face that it was definitely him that threw the thing at his head, but the panicked, adorable, wide-eyed look Eddie has at the accusation is worth playing along for.

“What?! You traitors!” He scrambles up and back, glancing over and managing to duck a snowball aimed for his head by Robin, “Stevie, sweetheart, darling, you know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Do I?” He growls out playfully, advancing on the doe-eyed menace.

“Yes! You know I love you, Steve, I would never betray you like that.”

The words, even said teasingly as they are, make Steve’s stomach swoop heavily. He’s lucky his face was already red from the wind.

“I don’t know, Eds,” He holds out one mittened hand to Mike as he passes between the two boys. He drops one into his palm. “Sounds like something you would do.”

He raises the snowball and yells out, chasing Eddie around the front of his car to the hoots and hollers of the others jeering him on.

Eddie is not a good runner, and his Reeboks slip and slide as they try to carve a path through the fresh snow in the yard.

He’s quick though, and doges out of Steve’s reach when he almost catches the back of his borrowed puffer coat, launching off toward the side of the house instead.

Oh no.

“Wait, Eddie! There’s a—” Eddie’s dark head of curls disappears under his feet as he slips off over the side of the hill. “Hill—shit!”

Steve spoke too soon even for himself, unable to stop his momentum before he slips down the hill too.

Snow pushes itself under the back of his jacket down the first half of his slide, then one of his feet gets stuck up under him and he tumbles ass-over-tea kettle the rest of the way.

“OOF—” he lands on something much more solid than snow at the bottom.

Eddie’s cackling laughter bursts out from under him, his chest heaving with it under Steve’s own.

“Eddie, you okay, man?”

Steve pushes up on his hands, one on either side of Eddie’s torso, to look down at him properly.

He lost the red hat he’d grabbed when they came outside earlier, gone to the snow somewhere, and his hair is fanned in an almost perfect halo around his head.

The red spots on his face show off the flakes that fall onto them briefly before they melt under the heat of his skin, his mouth open wide and his eyes crinkled shut in laughter.

Steve was already head over fuckin’ heels for this man, but…oh.

Oh.

Eddie has laugh lines.

They’re so deep already, crinkled up at the corners of his eyes, but for a split second, Steve can’t help but wonder how much more they’d be in 10, 15, 20 years in the future.

And he realizes in that instant that wants so badly to be there to watch them grow longer.

look out, it's noelle coming in hot with the Oh. Oh. moment!

296 notes · View notes

scarletttries · 1 year

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Forever Mine (Kendall Roy Succession Request)

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x F! Reader

Rating: Explicit (Breeding Kink/ Jealous Kendall)

Word Count: 2.1k

Request: "Hiii Scarlett!!! I LOVE to read your kendall roy writings💜 can you write something about kendall trying to get you pregnant( bc I LOVED breeding kink) ?? Or having rough sex bc getting jealous of one of his friends' attention to u??"

Author's note: Thank you so much for this excellent request, I kind of combined the two ideas into the below fic for you 🥰💕

Forever Mine

"How can a company that makes more money than really exists in the world still need more investors?" You sighed into your fizzing glass of champagne as you continued to circulate through the crowd, Gerri stifling a laugh at your side.

"How'd you think the rich stay rich? They never use their own money for anything." She feigned a smile as a group of men shuffled past, their metaphorical wallets straining against the fabric of their designer suits as they moved. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go make them all feel important, so I can keep my job." You could see her eyes roll as she plastered on a fake smile and left you stood by the bar, hoping that Kendall would get bored soon enough and call it a night for the both of you. You never minded being his plus one to events like this, the chance to see him in his charming element not one you'd pass up, Ken stealing glances your way all night with a smile on his face that he only wore for you. But after a few hours the conversations always wore a little thin, and you usually found one of the old guard hovering beside you to make sure you weren't doing anything that might get people commenting.

"Are you waiting for a drink?" An strangely familiar voice snapped you back to reality, spinning on your heels to find a tall, well-built man in his fifties smiling at you like a lion spying a gazelle.

"No, I'm all set thank you, just pausing here for a moment." You replied with a courteous smile, taking a small step backwards as if you were blocking the bar that spanned the length of the decadent hall.

"Would you mind if I 'pause' with you for a moment?" It was then that you placed his suave voice in your mind, the man an up-and-coming congressman that couldn't stop appearing on ATN news shows, repeating whatever lines Logan's team had written from him that day. As he leaned over the bar to ask for a whiskey you took the opportunity to glance around for an exit plan, but with groups of investors all deep in conversation on every side of you, you swallowed the acid in your throat and resigned yourself to an uncomfortable conversation with the awful man in front of you.

"Of course, it's a pleasure to meet you congressman." Kendall would've been able to tell your polite tone was entirely fake, but the man in front of you smirked proudly at the title, pleased you knew who he was and hoping to score more than financial backing from you this evening.

"The pleasure's all mine." He stretched out the hand that wasn't holding an ornate crystal glass, taking what should have been a courteous handshake way too far as he leant forward to bring his lips to the top of your hand, still curled in a stomach curdling smirk as they pressed against your skin. "Now tell me, exactly how much would I have to invest in Waystar for you to leave this shindig with me tonight?"

"You might have better luck if you don't hit on the date of the richest man in here." Before you could spit out your own retort, you heard the dark drawl of Kendall appearing beside you, face twisted in stoney discontent as the political pawn tried to save face a little.

"Fair enough, I know when I'm beat." He raised his hands in fake surrender as he backed away, but not before throwing a final uncomfortable wink your way, "You know who I am, if you change your mind." You could feel Kendall's hand fall to your lower back in response, trying to keep you in the palm of his hand, as if this disgusting character could actually pull you away from him. Hoping to lighten the tension between the two men before Kendall pulled some strings and ended this man's career, you let out an uneasy laugh,

"Well you've got my vote." You cringed at the hollow chuckle from Kendall beside you as your politician smiled again and stepped off into the crowd, looking for easier prey, leaving you to try and reassure the embodiment of jealousy beside you.

"Kendall, you know-"

"You ready to get out of here?" He cut you off before you could start, the unsettling smile on his face difficult to read as he threaded his fingers through yours and scouted out the nearest lift to take you out of the events hall and up to the hotel suites the Roy family had booked out for the night.

"Yeah, of course, let's go love." You said the final word extra softly, watching the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, unable to contain his warmth at the affectionate pet name, your love the truest thing he'd known in his complex life.

You felt his hand squeeze yours as he led you through the crowd until finally the two of you were alone, the chirpy elevator music cutting through an otherwise tense silence.

"You know I was trying to be polite Ken." You offered reassuringly, Kendall keeping his gaze fixed to the floor numbers illuminating on the touch screen beside you.

"I know honey, it's not your fault men can't fucking stay away from you." His tone was almost vindicative as the doors finally opened on your floor, a sprawling penthouse for just the two of you, another exquisite home away from home for the night.

The moment the doors behind you slid shut, Kendall was on top of you, his teeth clashing against yours with the sheer force of his passion. The crash of his lips took your breath away as his hands found your hips, gripping them tight enough that the silky fabric of your dress bunched in handfuls as he guided your back to the chaise longue that stood at the opening of the suite, the bedroom far too great a distance to travel.

As your lower back met the antique fabric, Kendall's hands skimmed up your the length of your spine, sending shivers through your body as his lips moved hungrily to your neck, a devouring the soft flesh there enough to leave a trail of deep purple lovebites,

"Why is it so fucking hard for everyone to see that you're mine?" Kendall panted into your neck as he pulled the straps of your dress down your shoulders, handling you with rough, frantic movements, his chest heaving against yours as he worked to free you from the satin that came between you.

"I'm all yours Kendall." You breathed out as your dress hit the floor, relishing in the guttural growl the words drew from the still fully-dressed man, drinking in the sight of you as he cupped your cheek in his hand and drew you in for another hungry kiss.

"I know love, I just think we need to make that more obvious." His tongue danced against yours as his eye fluttered shut, shrugging off his jacket as you pushed it from his shoulders. His lips trailed over your chin and down your throat as he sunk to his knees. He sucked and nipped at your exposed skin, his hands running along your sides as his head sank between your breasts before settling at your stomach, peppering the soft curves with kisses as his fingers tugged your panties down your thighs, helping you step out of them so nothing obstructed his perfect view of your body.

"How are we gonna do that?" You questioned absentmindedly as you let the sensation flooding from his sinking kisses run through your veins, his lips inching closer and closer to your tingling centre. You didn't miss the devilish glint in his eye as he paused and looked up at you, face hovering so close to your entrance you could feel his hot breath against your sensitive skin.

"I can think of two ways." He nuzzled his nose softly against your clit and watched the way your body reacted so desperately to his touch, your hips twitching forward and your chest rising as you gasped at the contact. His tongue darted forward to add to the sensation, lapping at the bundle of nerves while one hand snaked up your inner thigh. The moan you let out as he hummed against you only made him happier as his fingers toyed with your slit, now wet with your slick from the way he'd manhandled you. "It's so easy for me to tell you're all mine when you get this wet for me." His fingers dipped inside your entrance as he spoke, you knees all but buckling at the relief in your throbbing core at the contact, the arm of the sofa behind you the only thing keeping you upright.

"All for you Kendall." His name came out entirely in moan as he plunged two of his fingers into you with a frantic rhythm, wanting to get you more than ready to feel the rest of him deep inside you.

"Maybe I should let everyone know just how much you like my fingers inside you by putting a fucking enormous diamond on yours." He watched, enamoured by the way you eyes shot open at his words before clenching shut as his lips found your clit again, bringing you so close to the edge of your pleasure that all you could do was smile and hum in agreement at his words. As he started to feel the familiar tremble of your thighs he pulled his hand away, groaning at the needy whimper that left your lips as he did.

"Ken?" Your eyes were as pleading as your words as you watched him unbuckle his belt, rubbing your thighs together to try and ease some of the frustration that was pulsing in your centre.

"I think the second way is much more fun though." His eyes were dark with desire as he kicked off his dress pants, letting you see his hard length leaking excitedly as he grabbed your hips and helped you fall backwards onto the long loveseat behind you, quickly following suit, kneeling in between your thighs to keep your legs spread for him. He ran his tip through your dripping folds, watching you whine and flinch at the sensation, trying to drive him into action,

"What's the second way to let people know I'm all yours?" Kendall watched your chest rise and fall as you panted out the words, so sensitive from being brought to the edge that his teasing had you writhing around underneath him. Grinning like a devil he finally lined himself up with your entrance, waiting until he spoke to buck his hips harshly into you.

"To get you pregnant. Fuck!" He cried out as slammed his hips against yours, hitting the spot deep inside you that had you arching your back and crying out in agreement. "You'd like that wouldn't you. For everyone to know how well you take my dick. How full I get you."

"Yes daddy," You moaned, overwhelmed by his relentless pace as he fucked hard and fast into you, his hands running over your stomach until they reach your bouncing chest. His hands cupped your breasts, fingertips teasing your nipples as he stared down at you, completely dominating your body.

"Everyone would be able to see these get bigger, and I bet they'd get so sensitive I could have you in tears just playing with your nipples. We can practice you having my lips on them all day until you've soaked through every set of fucking lingerie I've ever bought you." He could see the wide desperation in your eyes as your pleasure climbed again, every pinch and thrust setting every cell in your body alight.

"I'm so close, please." You cried out, volume almost a scream as you begged for your release, Kendall's own thrusts losing rhythm as he fought to make this moment last forever.

"You want me to cum in you? You want me to fill you up and make you lie here until your carrying my seed? Until it's clear to everyone that you're mine forever?" His questions were all but drowned out by the chanting yeses that spill from your lips as your walls clenched around him and your body started to shake with your release.

"Yes Ken, I'm yours forever." You managed to breathe out as the waves of pleasure washed over you, amplified by the incredibly feeling of him spilling inside you, the warmth deep in your abdomen somehow more intense than usual knowing that Kendall's breeding kink had been fully awakened, and he wouldn't satisfied until he'd filled you with as much of him as you could take.

Leaning forward his elbows settled either side of your head, lips meeting yours for a sweet kiss as he repeated the words, "Mine. Forever."

"All yours love." You echoed softly, the devotion in his eye clear as his lips returned to yours again and again, drinking in the sweet taste of your affections.

"You know we're not leaving this room until you're so full of my cum, it's dripping out of you, right?"

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #kendall roy headcanon #kendall roy succession #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy smut #kendall succession #succession imagine

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klwrites · 7 months

Text

Young Love part 1/3 (Damian Wayne)

Requests!!

This can be the the first day of what ever grade you’d like! College even

Damian marched into his honors chemistry class expecting to get into the biggest waste of his time. Immediately when the teacher started to speak he started fidgeting with the items prepared at each lab table. One careless bored move after the next, flames emerge. The sprinklers went off and students yelled as the flames spread.

Fuck fuck fuck

The fire was spreading fast, but Damian made it out the classroom, making sure everyone else left first. He frantically looked around for anyone in distress, and noticed the school was filled with smoke and there were more flames across the school.

There must be two fires then.

Regardless of not having his suit, Damian went into the flames to investigate. After going in and out to bring hurt students to safety, he searched the firey hallways. Nearly out of breath, he finally found a clue.

“What are you doing?” He shouted, expecting someone more criminal.

“Get away! Save yourself!” You sternly yelled, desperate to not hurt anyone in this incomprehensible accident.

Damian paused, slowly letting his arms down to see better. There you were, a teenage girl, flames coming cracks out of your face, tears streaming. Why did Damian’s heart hurt?

“Are you going to be okay if I did that?” He questioned.

“I.. I don’t know.”

“I’m staying,” He coughed. “I can help you, trust me.”

What the fuck is wrong with her?

“Everyone is out of the building but me. Trust me.” Damian reassured.

He looked down at his phone, Bruce sent him multiple worried messages, the last one being “on my way”. Damian sighed and put his phone away.

“We need to leave now, otherwise The Batman will think you did this on purpose or something.”

Your horrified eyes got wider. “Oh my god I’m a criminal.”

“No. Not if you get us out of here.” He coughed.

All the exits were blocked by fire, where could they escape? He stood behind you, impatiently waiting to get out of the building. You were unsure what to do, you had no control over the firey blasts coming from you. But for the first time, metaphorically and physically, someone was standing with you. You closed your eyes and focused on the blank void in your eyelids. Taking a deep breath and opening your eyes you shot your hand forward, letting a path through the fire slowly open.

“Just like that! Just a little more!” Damian shouted,

You yelled in pain, breaking more of the fire apart.

Damian gasped, looking over to you right as you fell unconscious. Without skipping a beat, he caught you and ran. He ran deep into the woods, trying to be sure no one could catch them. He looked behind him, the schools fire was spreading through Gotham. Setting you down, he moved the hair out of your face and stared with a judgmental look on his face. Then he put forward his hand to check your pulse. Still here. She’s the reason the city is on the verge of complete flames, yet he feels at complete peace sitting there in the woods with her.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a large dark room. In the corner was a figure sitting with his back turned at a desk. You stretched before setting your feet on the ground. You noticed the burn holes in your shoes, then pants, then sweatshirt. Then you remembered everything. You quickly looked up as there was a knock on the door.

“Damian! What’s going on?!” A deep voice yelled.

“Shit shit shit shit shit” whispered Damian. “We have to get out of here.”

“What?”

He put his hand over your mouth and used his hand to move your towards the window.

“Do what I do.” Damian instructed.

You jumped towards the ground and followed him through a long forest followed by a tall stone wall surrounding the place. After we made it through he turned to you and placed a finger over his mouth then you followed him to a dark secluded alley. Damian looked around making sure it was safe, then placed the hood over his head.

“What’s going on? Where am I? Who are-“

“Look, the city is on fire, and it won’t stop burning. No amounts of water will stop it and everyone on the streets of Gotham is looking for you. Stop the fire now.”

You what?

“What do you mean the fire won’t go out?” You asked in disbelief.

“Nothing is stopping it. I know it has to be you.”

A part of you wanted to coward away into the fire and die with it, but something the feeling of looking around this man makes you feel okay.

“Not to mention they have footage of you… everyone knows it’s you.”

You stare blankly at the streets on fire,

“I…” you pause.

“I’m not leaving you until this is over.” Damian sternly stated. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

You turned to him, your eyes softened, you felt a warm sensation in your chest- a good one.

“Do you meditate?” Damian asked,

For some reason he feels the need to help you. He relates to you almost. Maybe he sees what you could become, or maybe he could you had no sense of home like he did. Whatever it was it made him feel like risking everything for you.

“No?”

“Before I came here, I stayed somewhere far away from everyone and everything so I could live with myself and control myself. All through meditation. Sit with me please, do what I do again.”

You sat in-front of him mirroring his pose and shutting your eyes.

“Starting at your feet, take a minute to think about how every part of your body feels. Slowly work your way up.”

After a long period of silence, Damian continued the instructions.

“Slowly open your eyes now. I want you to identify the things you see to yourself right now. Just list everything you see, don’t think much.”

The trash. The rocks. The fire. God the fire. There’s a spider web, or maybe a Cobb web? And fire. So much fire.

You started to breath fast and heavy, waves of panic took over your body. You had to stop all of this fire? You didn’t even know how to start it.

“Hey, look at me. Not the fire. I’m right here, what do you see on me?”

Black hair. Spiky black hair. Tan skin. Dark eyes. Stern sharp eyes. He was like a black cat.

“Close your eyes again.”

You almost didn’t want to.

“Feel inside of you again. Think of what you feel. What did you see? How does it connect to the noise you hear right now?”

You could feel it. The fire. It was there in your core, burning. The burning got hotter and hotter until you opened your eyes, nearly in pain. The fire had gone out more, and weakens around you.

“That’s it. You’re in tune.” Damian smiled.

But it hurts.

You took a deep breath, and kept going.

Damian could tell it hurt, he understood the burning that gets worse when things get better.

“It’s all going to be okay.”

The fire eventually went out on one street, but there’s a lot more to Gotham then that. You and Damian decided to lay low overnight so you could get energy back before taking down more. You were still an enemy of the city, and who could blame them? It was night three of being on the run that you thought to ask his name.

Damian’s admiration for you grew, he spent all day trying to find more ways to help you control this curse. His phone was going off nearly every five minutes, you would just watch as he’d pause what he was saying, grumbled, looked at his phone, sighed, and type.

“Bruce, have you seen the news that just came out?” Alfred asked.

“No, is is about Damian?”

The poor man had been searching day and night for his son.

“Yes sir. I was watching the news and a video recording of last night came up, she was in an alley way and master Damian was clearly behind her…”

That confirmed Bruce’s instincts. His son was kidnapped, and he would do everything in his way to get him back. Without any words he stood from his desk, walked over to his weapons, and started packing his most obscure ones.

“Sir?”

“I will tear Gotham apart to find my son.”

#batman #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dc universe #dcamu

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harrygoeswest · 10 months

Text

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

~~~

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

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

Part 1

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For shitting fuck’s sake.

“No one else is in there.”

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

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

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

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

This was safe. Comfortable. Neutral ground.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see… so tall men, then?”

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

“Interesting.”

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

“No.”

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

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

Oh boy. “If you want to.”

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

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

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

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

“I have a theory.”

“What’s that?”

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

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

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

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

“Very convenient.”

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

“Will you tell me a secret?”

An eye for an eye.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who were they about, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please?”

“No.”

“A whisper is fine.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At least we can tolerate each other now.”

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

“You’ve grown on me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“So we’d have to share?”

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

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

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

“Write?”

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

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

“Funny.”

He grinned. “Glad you think so.”

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

“Was that one of yours?”

Yes. “No.”

His chuckle floated around the room. “Goodnight,”

“Night.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

“And you just let me?”

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

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

“It’s okay, you know. I don’t mind.”

“What if I mind?”

“Do you?”

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

Christ alive, was there no hope?

“I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

“It is incredibly inconvenient for me.”

“Does it happen a lot?”

“Absolutely not.”

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

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

“Do you want me to move?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sun’s back.”

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

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

“Sounds good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God damn, I think you’re right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gluten free snacks are expensive.” You argued.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine. I’ll meet you down there.”

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here!” He yelled.

“No!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the-,”

“-Boo.”

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

“You prick, that’s not fair!”

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

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

“You turned it into a game by retaliating.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I never said that.”

Satisfaction nestled in your very core.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded.

“Will you do mine after?”

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I do. You.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How bad is it?” Harry asked.

“It’s not great.”

He groaned.

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

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

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

Oh boy.

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

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

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

Stop.

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

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

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

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

Fuck it.

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

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

Oh, shit. You’d fucked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

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

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

“Kinda?”

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

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

“Maybe I won’t finish my chapter…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Meet me by the van?” He suggested.

“Yeah. I’ll pack up.”

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

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

No.

No panicking.

This was Harry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snorted. “Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

You took another languid lick from your cone.

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

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

“Shit.” You hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He growled.

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

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

“I did,” you whispered.

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

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

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

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

Harry looked like he was about to combust.

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

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

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

Big was the first thing that came to mind.

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

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

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

He took two fistfuls of your dress and tugged it. “I want this off.”

You were still cleaning your hand. You silently nodded around your fingers, and then raised both arms in the air. He shucked the dress up to your chest and then whipped it off, tossing it into one of the chairs posted outside the door.

His gaze raked up your body like a man starved.

A couple of droplets of ice cream had fallen lower and were trailing down your abdomen towards the line of your bikini. Before they could make it, Harry leaned forward and collected them onto his tongue.

Your breathing hitched, and you took your fingers back into your mouth as you watched him sponge kisses and trail licks back up your front.

You took his cap off with your free hand and dropped it in the same chair as your dress. Then you pushed your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp as he went.

As he reached the underside of your breasts, he smoothed his hands up your thighs.

A low moan came out of you in anticipation. This man was about to unravel you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. You’d never shied away from sex before, but this was something else. What you and Harry were doing felt different. Exciting.

Harry managed to split his attention between cleaning your chest and smoothing up your thighs. He gripped your waist with one hand, and the other slid between your legs. He started circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, over your bikini.

You’d been wet ever since your kiss on the beach and his hand was only making your desire that much heavier.

“God, Harry,” you groaned, and your back arched away from the post, “just like that.”

He breathed out against your breast, as if hearing your praise was the biggest compliment in the world.

He continued working you up between your thighs as his tongue laved over every inch of your front, wiping up the sticky mess you put there. He sucked your nipple over the fabric of your swimsuit.

“Fuck, your tits are perfect,” he groused, and worked deeper into your heat with his fingers.

“Take them out.” You begged.

He shook his head against your chest, roving upwards. “Not outside.”

This gentlemanly side of him was like a silent killer. He wasn’t up for exposing you in public even though you’d had no quarrel with it. You supposed he was more than well-versed with the repercussions of having your private life displayed for the world to see. It didn’t stop you from grinding on his hand, though.

He lapped up the cream on your chest and throat, until finally, finally his mouth joined yours again. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, bringing his body hard against yours. You continued to grind into his hand while rubbing your boobs against his chest. The friction you so craved was driving you wild.

“You’re unbelievable.” He groaned into your mouth.

“It’s not the first time you’ve told me that.”

He puffed a laugh through his perfect lips. “It’s still true. Except I’m saying it now as a dead man.”

You gasped at the feeling of one of his fingers trying to bury into your heat. “How so?”

“I’m at your mercy, baby.”

“Oh, God.” You whined, keeping his mouth firmly on yours. “I never thought I’d say this but I really want you to fuck me, Harry.”

“I will.” He insisted with a nip of your lips. “But I really want you to come on my hand first.”

“Fuck.” You whimpered.

You ground and ground against Harry’s fingers, focussing all of your attention on that one thing while his kisses plastered your mouth until your climax finally bubbled to the surface and exploded, straining your body in shivering tightness. You buried your face into his neck as you cried out, clinging onto him to help it subside.

He took his hand from between your legs and wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling you away from the column. When your legs weren’t complete jelly, you were already moving again, coaxing him inside.

A deep moan bubbled out of him when you reconnected your lips. He knew what you were doing and he was only too eager to join, walking you into the cabin. The door was kicked shut the second you were over the threshold.

Your hand slid down his front, fingertips tracing over the lines of his torso until you had a handful of clothed man. Harry was big. You knew that already from the brief encounter you’d had with it on arrival, but with your hands on that appendage now, you realised you might have your work cut out for you.

Harry grunted at your touch like a starved animal. It was such a deep, jarring noise it had shivers shooting all over your body, and straight back to your clit again. And you ate that noise right out of his mouth.

You tucked both hands into the waistband of his trunks and slid the garment down, falling to your knees with it. His back hit the door.

“What are you doing?”

You met his gaze, not a hint of hesitation on you. “I want you in my mouth.”

“Christ,” he hissed, “I don’t think I’ll last long if you do that.”

You smirked, gliding your hands up his thighs to wrap around his shaft. “That’s okay.”

“But I want to shag you.”

“I have every intention of doing that, too.”

“Might be hard if I finish in your mouth.”

You gave him a challenging raise of your brow. “You telling me you don’t have enough in you for two rounds? For a man who sings about sex as much as you do, that’s kinda disappointing.”

He knew you were goading him. He could tell by the look in your eye, that fiery glint that lived to wind him up. And it’d be a damn lie if he said he didn’t love it. Sparring with him over nothing was one thing, but to challenge his stamina? Entirely another.

He didn’t take your bait, settling with a tense jaw and a dark look in his eye. You took that as enough encouragement to continue.

You tucked your hands into the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, avoiding getting poked in the eye when it sprang free. Taking it by the base with a gentle grip at first, you studied it with a calm exterior. Your interior, however, was rioting. In me it screamed.

Never one to deny yourself of anything you wanted, you stroked his shaft a couple of times and took him in your mouth without any further delay.

“Bloody hell,” Harry swayed a little at the suddenness of it all, only finding your shoulders to steady himself on.

You started working him, both hand and mouth moving up and down the length of him because he wasn’t going to fit in just your gob, big as it was. Your tongue licked around him too, preening his hot and veiny length. Sometimes it felt wrong to call a phallus beautiful, but his really was.

You gripped the back of his thigh as you bobbed and bobbed and bobbed. If there was such a thing as ‘perfectly hairy’, Harry was it. His leg hair felt incredible in an inexplicable way, and if you weren’t turned on enough already, it was really fucking doing it for you. It turned out, a lot about this man really did it for you.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry panted, stroking your hair as an excuse to just hold your head, “that’s good, darlin’.”

Words of praise hadn’t really been your thing until that exact moment. You worked harder around him, hand and lips moving in quicker succession. You wanted him to praise you more so you’d work even harder than that. Then maybe you’d get to watch him unravel while you tasted him on your tongue for the very first time.

“Not surprised a girl with a mouth like yours knows how to use it.”

It was a backhanded compliment if you’d ever heard one, but you were going with it. You quite enjoyed that he could still find a way to drag you a little while saying nice things. Lewd nice things, but nice all the same.

You pulled back and lifted his length up, closing your mouth around his balls to suck instead. He hissed, fisting the hair at the back of your head. The sharp pain that caused only made you want him more.

You met his gaze as you sucked away at each of his balls, and he was a fucking sight - strong yet vulnerable, beautiful yet roughened. Everything he exuded in that second was a contradiction to itself and the man became more of a conundrum to you than he ever had been. You needed to ground him again. Rearrange the version of him in your head so that the one that existed outside of it became clear.

You slid the hand holding his leg upward and behind to stroke over his ass cheek. Obviously it was smooth and perky and you felt a strange kind of envy because it wasn’t fair that men always had such spectacular rear-ends.

Then you stopped sucking on his bollocks and licked up his shaft like it was better than a freaking Calippo. Hell, it was better by a staggering degree. You prayed to any ethereal entity that would listen that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d get to suck away at Harry’s girthy man-meat.

You licked up the crease on his tip, taking the dribble of pre-come with you. It melted on your tongue, and a dirty groan spilled out of you and over his shaft as it sunk back into the heat of your mouth.

You fought harder this time as you started bobbing around him. Cheeks hollowed and chin drowning in your own saliva. You took him as far as you could, into the tightness of your throat until he was the one choking. Then you rested back for a second to suck on his tip, before shoving him back down as far as he’d go.

“No, no, no,” Harry stressed, attempting to pull away.

But it was already too late, and a smug satisfaction washed over your entire being as he began to come. You gripped onto his legs to keep his cock inside your mouth. Again he only had your shoulders to keep him upright as his hips instinctively bucked in shallow movements with each wave of his release. He tasted unlike anything before. It had this addicting quality to it and part of you would be happy if he just never stopped coming.

But he did, eventually, and once he was out of your mouth you swallowed down his release and made a show of licking your lips afterward.

“Are you okay?” You asked once you could finally talk.

He looked spent already, but you weren’t going to let him give up that easily. His hair was all in his face, cheeks stained pink, and his skin was shiny in places that hadn’t been considered obscene until this very moment. Harry looked like he was about to film an advert for a new ‘fragrance for men’. Just like everyone else, whatever he was selling, you’d probably buy it.

“‘M bloody wonderful.” The way he spoke had a weightlessness to it, and you wanted to float away on it.

You rose to your feet, leaving a path of kisses up his torso as you went. Havoc wrecked up your insides as you did so. You’d had a piece of him already, but that damn body… enough to send the calmest of women to an institution.

Harry captured your mouth the second he could and absolutely ravaged you. He was all encompassing, like nothing else in the world mattered. Right then, it didn’t. Only his kisses and the hunger he gave off with them.

You found yourself with your back against the door, Harry’s body heavy against you. His weight caused your insides to light up all over again, your centre preparing for pleasure.

“Harry, I need you in me,” you spoke against his kisses, clawing at his skin to keep him closer, keep the fire in your body alive and burning.

“I need in you,” He agreed, his attack on your mouth not letting up.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I’m trying to remember what I did with the condoms I had in my suitcase.”

Inexplicably, you started giggling. It amused you, that this man who could seem so suave and smooth and charming could lose something like his condoms.

When your head tilted to the side, he took advantage of your exposed neck, delicately sucking his way down and back to your cleavage. He took you out of your clothes until you were completely bare, finally in matching states of undress.

“I’ve got some in my handbag,” you managed to say on a heavy pant.”

Harry growled, and the noise shot straight to your clit, “Don’t move.”

He yanked himself away from you and marched across the room to your bag, where it sat on the floor by the bed.

“Inside zip pocket,” you told him, teeth nibbling at your lower lip.

He found the strip and tore one off, then ripped it open and put it on without any form of hesitation. He took a brief second to study your nakedness, still standing with your back against the door, and then he was crowding you again, leaving you with barely room to breathe. Yet taking breath was the last thing you cared about.

“God, you’re pretty,” he sighed as he shoved his face into your neck. His lips lightly nipped and sucked away at your skin, while his hands roamed your naked body.

His dick was hard again, pressing against your stomach, and your sex was rioting with impatience. You combed your fingers through his hair, tugging every now and then on the soft curls until he shivered. He lifted your leg at the thigh and hooked it over his hip, and like he just couldn’t wait any longer, he thrust his length inside you at once.

You choked on the breath you were intaking at the sheer fullness of him, and now it was your turn to bury your face in his neck. He smelled like sea water and sweat and it made a heady, lusty scent.

He spoke your name like a prayer, “fuck. You feel… I don’t even know. Fucking marvellous.”

You gripped him tighter as he started thrusting, heavy and hard. “You’re so big, Harry.”

Your backside hit the door, and while it was a little painful and might well bruise, it actually made it all the better. You felt like an animal, matching his hip movements one by one.

It felt like he was trying to prove something, and even though he really didn’t need to, you weren’t going to tell him that. You liked this side of him - this real maleness that you hadn’t really seen from him beside his occasional pigheadedness. And it was only occasional because he only showcased it with you. With everyone else he was a god damn peach. Maybe he’d be a peach with you now, too, with less of the bravado. But you’d like to see this side of him more, where he had nothing and yet everything to prove, and a driving desire to prove it.

He was starting to pound faster and faster, grunting and groaning. Sweat rolled down his back and it was oddly stimulating. You traced your fingertips down his spine and back up, then gripped his face and brought his mouth to yours for a mind-bending snog.

If his mouth was heaven, his dick was fucking ecstasy.

Everything about him worked together to provide the ultimate pleasure and you were centimetres from falling off the damn train.

“Harry, touch my clit.” You ordered.

He growled again and it was utterly delicious. He stroked his hand from your hip to your cunt and started stroking that sensitive nub in such a stark contrast to how he was fucking into you that you reached a new level of overwhelm.

“Fuck, Harry!” You squealed.

“You are,” pant, “insatiable.”

He dropped his mouth to the top of your breast and sucked - hand, cock and mouth all moving together in sync to bring you to climax.

Stilted, you groaned at the way your orgasm washed over you like a debilitating blaze. Harry’s body held you prisoner against the door, and you knew from his shudder that he was coming too. Hard, if his teeth against your shoulder blade was any indication.

“It’s not like this,” He said after a moment of quiet.

You were boneless sandwiched between his hard front and the door. If he moved, you’d collapse. “What?”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you, slow and sweet, “It’s not like this. Ever. I feel different with you.”

A thick lump formed in your throat, and you forced it down with a swallow. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t know what he meant. You knew exactly what he meant. You were no stranger to sex, but it hadn’t ever been like that before. Something about being with Harry lit you up on the inside like a firework display on bonfire night. But for some reason, you couldn’t put that into words for him. So you did the only thing you could and kissed him back.

You wound up in the shower together, going for another round before cleaning each other up. It was more delicate than the first time. You took your time, and then when you were both spent, you finally stepped out, clean and sated.

Harry wiped you down with the towel first, taking extra care to make sure you were completely dry. Watching him care for you that way did terrible things to your insides. Especially the vital organ in your ribcage. He’d gone from carnal to tender in a matter of seconds and that familiar feeling of whiplash latched onto you again.

You clung to the sink while he towelled himself down, watching his every move. Admiring him. There was no animosity left in you to harbour towards this man. It would be a waste to do so. You’d hold onto it for someone else, someone more worthy. For now, Harry had earned something else. Something sweeter.

He took your face between his hands when he was done, appreciating you. His thumbs stroked over your cheeks. You took a gentle hold of his wrists, keeping your eyes on his.

“Don’t go to the bungalow.”

You bit your lip at his request. Knowing what you knew now, you’d have never booked it if you had any slight inkling that this might’ve happened. And by ‘this’ you obviously meant sleeping with him. Up until 2 days ago the possibility was at around 0.01%.

But you had booked it to safeguard yourself, and paid a hefty deposit. You weren’t going to get that back now.

“Don’t worry about the money, just… stay with me.” He pleaded.

“But I am worried about the money.” You admitted. “People like me have to be. I’ve already been frivolous enough trying to get here.”

“I’ll give it to you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

He frowned, and his hands fell away. You suddenly felt cold, craving his warmth and his touch again. You closed the space between you and rested your palms against his naked chest.

“I can’t just let something like that go, Harry. And I’ve never taken well to people just offering me things. Especially not money. I have to earn it. It’s not personal, I promise.”

“I just wanted to do something for you.”

“I know. But you don’t have to.”

He studied you for a moment, eyes searching your face. “What if I came with you?”

You chuckled. “Okay, keen bean. I think you need to slow down. Think about it for a minute.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going away.” You reminded him. “I’ll be half an hour down the road, that’s it.”

“Too far.”

You shook your head and dropped your forehead to his chest. “It’s not really.”

“I don’t want you staying somewhere alone.”

“If you weren’t here then I would’ve spent 4 weeks up here alone. With only badgers for company.”

“Compromise with me a little? Please?”

You sighed, and he wrapped himself around you so that you were cocooned in his hold.

“You go to the AirBnB, but I come with you. If you won’t let me pay for it, let me come with you.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to let it go unless you gave him something, you said, “I’ll think about it.”

The next three days were utter bliss.

The first day, you barely managed to get out of bed. From the moment you woke up to the second you fell asleep, Harry was on you, touching you, affecting you. It was beautiful and fulfilling and also exhausting. He wouldn’t leave you alone, but you didn’t mind. You were enjoying this side of him. You were enjoying this side of you - the one that didn’t constantly feel tense or on edge or irritated. You were happy.

The second day, you spent it in the car, just driving around the Highlands with no planned route and no destination. He held your hand tightly in his while you explored mountain passes and vast lochs and deep forests. You stopped at a roadside cafe and had quite possibly the best gluten free sandwich of your life - which you were surprised was even an option in the depths of nowhere - and then carried on to another quiet pass where you had some wildly incredible sex in the front seat of the car. It was almost midnight by the time you got home, and the shitty three-quarter bed in the cabin had never felt so comfortable. It was made all the better with Harry’s body wrapped around you.

On the third and final day, Harry had gone into full wooing mode. Every single part of the day felt like an attempt to bring you on side, whether it be staying at the cabin or allowing him to come to the bungalow with you. He started with a wake up call that involved his glorious face between your legs, followed by a fully gluten free breakfast spread. After a joint shower wherein he shagged you senseless against the tile wall from behind, he dragged you out into the perfectly mild Highland day for a hike up the nearest - small - mountain. You were back by lunchtime for a picnic by the lake and a dip in the water, with less chasing this time and more paddling. Then, after a nap in the cabin that resulted in yet more sex, he took you into the village for dinner at the nicest restaurant it had. It was no Nobu - not that you’d ever eaten there - but it was good food and perfect company.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you said to that paparazzi that followed us last week?” Harry asked when our dessert was taken away. He had a hand settled on the base of his wine glass, the candle on the table flickering so that light danced across his handsome face in odd ways. It only pronounced the sparkle in his eye.

You licked your lips, fighting off your smile. “Probably not.”

“Please? I feel like I deserve to know, given it could come back and bite me in the bum.”

You giggled at his use of the word ‘bum’. It was like his mother was in the room with you. “It won’t.”

“And how are you so certain, darling?” He leaned forward over the table, still entertained.

“Because, baby, it is literally impossible for him to do so.”

“Care to explain?” He rested his chin on a closed fist, smirking.

With a sigh, you leaned sideways and fished around in your bag until you found what you were looking for. Between your index and middle finger, you flashed the small SD card that the man had reluctantly handed over to you all those days ago.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Wow.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How’d you manage that?”

You thought back to your conversation outside the supermarket and let out a small laugh. “Er… I might have threatened to get the supermarket security involved for harassing customers, and then followed it with another threat to break his fancy camera and shove the SD card into some intimate places if he didn’t give it to me.”

Harry was staring at you like you were a mad woman. Maybe you were - you always did have a short fuse. “You said that?”

“Yes.”

He managed a blink. “You said that for me?”

“Yeah…”

He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his beardy chin. “Which intimate places?”

You smiled, “Well, something that size wouldn’t have done much damage up his arsehole, would it?”

Harry grinned, shaking his head, “You’re amazing.”

“No. I just think everyone deserves a holiday without having the fucking press on their back for every second of it.”

He leaned forward again and grabbed your hand, littering it with kisses, “Amazing.”

“I’m sure you’d do the same if the roles were reversed.”

“I’d like to think I would, yes.”

Your hands tangled together in the middle of the table, and you traced the creases between them with your free hand. You took a deep breath as your thoughts rolled ahead to tomorrow and the decision you had to make. “Harry, I want to make a deal with you.”

His brow furrowed. “Okay…”

“I want to go to the bungalow tomorrow alone.” He opened his mouth to object, but you squeezed his hand and shook your head. “I arranged this time away from home so I could get away from people and out of my head for a bit. And that’s not me saying I’ve had a shit time with you - I absolutely haven’t. But I need some space. I didn’t expect you when I turned up here and I’ve been kind of derailed from all the things I wanted to do.”

“That doesn’t sound like a deal.” He argued.

“That’s because I wasn’t finished.”

Even in the glow of the candlelight it was obvious he was blushing, “Sorry.”

Your lips twitched with a smile. “That being said, I know as soon as we’re apart I know I’ll miss you. Ludicrous as that sounds, because a week ago I still kinda hated you, but it’s the truth. I will miss you. I know what you’ve been doing the past three days and I’d be a big fat liar if I said it wasn’t working.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” He said with feigned ambivalence.

“Yeah, sure.” You rolled your eyes, but now your smile was really helpless. “Anyway. I want a week, Harry. That’s it. Just one week to myself, so I can work on my deadline and actually get something done. Because I’ll be honest, as soon as I realised you were here that night I got here, I kind of forgot I had work to do at all.”

He looked to be turning everything over in his head. “One week?”

“Yep. Just seven days. And then we can spend my last week here together and you can do whatever you want with me. Does that sound fair?”

He pursed his lips. “You go home in two weeks?”

“I do. Have the train ticket to prove it, too.”

“You can’t stay longer?”

“My life isn’t that flexible, Harry.”

“No, I know.” He took a breath, staring at our hands, still intertwined on the table. “Do you still split your time between London and home?”

“I do. Mostly home, but my place in London gets enough use. When work needs me to come into the office, it’s convenient. I’ve been fighting it for a while, but I think I might have to move to London permanently eventually. They’re discouraging working from home.”

He grunted like he disapproved of it. “Okay… I will let you have your week so we can have our week afterward. And I’m coming home with you when you have to leave.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” You asked over a laugh. “Thank you for letting me know.”

He snorted. “This is my off-season. And while I thought I’d be spending it relatively alone, and definitely not with the woman who’s hated me for fuck knows how long, it turns out I actually… quite like that woman. When she doesn’t hate me so much.”

You lean forward, “Quite like her, do you?”

“I do. Very fond might be a better way of putting it. So, if she’d let me, I’d like to spend my downtime with her before I bugger off for fuck knows how long to do my job. Especially if that means finally seeing her illusive house.”

“If you think she owns a house, you’ll be very disappointed when you get there.”

“Do you not own your home?”

“No, I own it. It’s just not a house.”

“Ah. Well, even still. If you’ll have me, I want to visit.”

“Can I visit you in London?”

“If you don’t, I’ll be offended.”

“Then… I think we’ve made our deal.”

“I think we have.” Harry grinned. “Should we go back to celebrate?”

“Celebrate?” You had to laugh, “It’s not graduation, H.”

“It kind of is. Graduation from singledom.”

Something stirred in your belly, and not in a bad way. “Oh.”

“You okay with that?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Mhmm, I’m okay with that.”

“Good.” He pressed his lips to your hand. “I think we should fuck around with Holly and your brother, too.”

“Oo, how?”

“I have a few ideas…”

Four Weeks Later

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You watched as a delighted squeal ripped out of your best friend, her hands clasped against her chest. Beautiful Holly beamed, her gaze touching on every single one of her invited surprise guests. “Oh my God!”

Your brother, ever the sap when it came to his wife - and rightly so - had organised a surprise birthday party for her 30th. You all knew, no matter how much she claimed she didn’t want anything special, that all of her favourite people in one room would mean the most to her. She’d been taken out for a birthday brunch by Harry so that you and your brother could turn their home into something fit for a party.

Streamers hung from the light fittings and curtain rails. Banners were stuck to the walls. Party poppers had burst and sailed through the air the second the front door had been opened. Everyone donned some form of ridiculous party hat. Someone had put a tiara on Holly’s head. The kitchen was piled with food and drink. All guests had been instructed to arrive at 2:30pm for Holly’s return at 3 o’clock. Harry had been placed under strict instruction not to bring her home before then if he valued his life. If Holly’s day wasn’t perfect, he’d have your brother to answer to.

Harry caught your gaze across the room while everyone else corralled the birthday girl into their embraces. It held for longer than anyone else would expect of you, and apparently your brother noticed.

“Come help me in the kitchen a second,” he tugged on your wrist.

You looked away, following him to the back of the house. You fixed yourself a drink, the first alcoholic one of the day now that the guest of honour had arrived, and sunk it in one; a reward for pulling off a surprise party for the nosiest woman on the planet. You poured another, and then one for Holly, too.

You tried to slip away into the front room, but were stopped midway by a tall, foreboding figure.

“What are you doing?” The question came out a little snappier than intended, but you blamed it on nearly spilling Holly’s drink than being practically ploughed over by a certain someone.

Harry raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ve come to get Holly a drink. That alright?”

I kept my expression neutral and held out the plastic cup. “Here you go - Holly’s drink. I’ll even let you take the credit for it.”

“I daren’t give you the satisfaction.” Harry scoffed.

“Trust me, Harry, nothing you could do would ever satisfy me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Your brother muttered.

Harry shot him a glance as he took the cup from you, purposefully brushing his fingers against yours, “Thank you so much.”

You flipped him the bird as he stalked off and rejoined your brother at the counter preparing the food for a barbecue.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you two to try and get on for Holly’s sake. Just for one fucking day.”

You bit your tongue and hoped it passed as ire, “It’s not my fault he’s a raging prick.”

“That’s a stretch and you know it.”

Ignoring him, you worked on slicing carrots, celery, cucumber and peppers into slices for crudités. Was it really a birthday party if there were no crudités?

The answer is no.

“Alright,” your brother called across the packed room of people, “five minutes and the food is going on! Can I have a volunteer for help with the barbecue?” Holly started to raise her hand, but he slapped it back down, “Not you, gorgeous.”

Someone coughed “Simp”, and you had to cover a laugh.

“Alright,” Holly’s dad heaved himself up and out of his favourite armchair, “I’ll help. The student needs a master, after all.”

Holly rolled her eyes, but you knew she liked it when your brother and her dad found another way to bond.

When conversations picked back up you scurried off to the bathroom for a breather. Even though it was still early, the number of people stuffing themselves into the frankly small living room had you feeling claustrophobic. It wasn’t like you to feel that way often, but the charade you were putting on was making you nervous. You never got nervous, but lying wasn’t in your armoury, because you were actually generally shit at it.

You thought of Harry and his quiet - and sometimes not-so-quiet - confidence. He pulled off the hatred with ease. He had three films and a post-credit scene as experience for that. Or maybe he wasn’t acting at all…

No. If last night’s bedroom activities were anything to go by, that couldn’t be true.

You washed your hands and splashed some water on your face to cool yourself down, and then let yourself out of the downstairs bathroom. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you found Harry on the other side of the door waiting.

“Fuck me,” you hissed.

Harry opened his mouth, no doubt with some witty retort that he’d already ‘done that’, but he was cut off by someone else stealing your attention.

Holly barrelled into you while yelling your name, dragging you away in a hug that was more like a headlock. “You are so naughty doing this! I said I didn’t want a party!”

“Yes, but look how happy you are,” You grinned at her. It took absolutely everything in you to not turn around and look at the handsome man who seemed to always linger in the right places.

“I am… I’m so happy, thank you.” She gave a content sigh. “The only thing that would make this better is if you and Harry could even just pretend to be amicable for like, five minutes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re super amicable all the time,” You said in the most blasé tone you could muster.

“Yeah right.”

“We were amicable at that dinner with your Nan.”

“That was for her sake.”

Something sharp pinched at your heart. She thought you didn’t try for her. If only she knew. But you had a part to play and you didn’t want to back out of it now. You were sticking to the plan. “I am not the problem. I’m very amenable.”

Holly frowned, the expression fraught with disapproval.

You sighed, “Sorry. Force of habit. It’s easy to blame someone you hate for your own misgivings.” Using the word hate in reference to Harry felt so wrong. Do it for the charade your brain screamed.

“Okay, enough. Maybe one day your brother and I won't have to separate you and Harry before you murder each other, but clearly today is not that day.”

Give it an hour or two and you might reconsider that statement you thought. “Yeah, maybe.”

For the next while you entertained Holly and avoided Harry while constantly throwing glances whenever you felt his presence. And you always felt his presence, as did everyone else in the room. There were clearly people here who didn’t expect him to show because they kept staring. You wished you could stare without such shame. You wished for other things, too, like to go over to wherever he was and just slip into his arms, or hold his hand, or kiss his mouth. But you did no such thing. You kept to yourself.

After the barbecue food had been eaten, your brother brought a huge cake out, homemade by your mother, with 30 candles on the top, all lit. Everyone sang Happy Birthday to Holly and watched her blow them out in three big huffs, and then it was taken inside to be cut up.

“I’m sorry it’s not gluten free, baby,” your mum sighed as slices of gooey chocolate goodness got passed around to all the guests.

“How many times have we had this conversation?” You chuckled, squeezing her into your side. “Gluten free cakes have the consistency of sawdust. They are shite. I’ll survive without cake.”

“Literally.” Ah, a rare coeliac joke.

You snorted. “Exactly.”

“Anyway,” she threw a surreptitious glance around the garden and then lowered her voice, “how long are you and Harry going to wind up your brother and Holly by pretending you still hate each other?”

“They’ll know later. Soon. It’s getting too hard considering they both just let themselves into our houses nowadays and they’re likely to catch us… in the middle of something.”

“Smart choice, poppet.”

“This is just payback for meddling.”

“Yes, but it worked out, didn’t it?”

You grunted unattractively. “Shush. We are not letting them believe they’re responsible for our relationship.”

“Are they not, though?”

“Of course not!” Alright, maybe a little. But you were never going to let them believe it.

You scanned the crowd again and caught the better half of your relationship sneaking inside. The urge to go after him and lock yourselves away in a bedroom became stifling, but somehow you refrained.

Twenty minutes later everyone was gathered around the birthday girl again and watching her open presents like it was Christmas fucking morning. You were sitting on the arm of the sofa watching her with a fond smile. Harry had tucked himself into a corner again like a fucking bat, but he wasn’t alone. He’d been talking to another girl for a while. You didn’t know her, although I recognised her from Holly and your brother’s wedding. Holly’s cousin, maybe? Anyway, she was… keen. Yep, definitely keen given her invested posture.

You tried not to give a shit, or at least pretend you didn’t. But you definitely did give a shit.

“Oo, what’s this?” Holly’s question piqued your curiosity, distracting you from staring at Harry.

You noted the envelope in her hands, unmarked, and smirked. Chancing a glance at Harry, he was already looking at you with the very same look on his face.

Holly plucked the card out and read the note inside, her intrigued expression morphing into more confusion. Glancing around the room, gaze visibly lingering on Harry, she brought the card closer to her chest so that no one else could see, and peeked at the photo you knew was taped to the inside. She pressed the card to her chest and searched the room for you, eyes narrowing into slits when she found you.

“What is it, babe?” Your brother asked, trying to peel the card off her.

She smacked his hand away, “It’s a… gift voucher.”

“What for?”

The look she gave him was conspiratorial, “I’ll tell you later.”

“Bet it’s for Lovehoney.” Someone joked, the same person who called your brother a simp earlier on.

She snapped the card shut and slipped it back into the envelope, moving onto the next gift. Her demeanour had changed considerably. Holly was decidedly less excited about her other presents now, and she kept tossing glares between you and Harry. He was clearly fighting off laughter, and you pretended to be unaffected.

When her last present was revealed and she’d said her thank yous to everyone, Holly stood and primly excused herself to the bathroom. Not thirty seconds later, you were summoned to the bedroom upstairs by a text in all capitals.

You made a quiet escape and made your way up to the room you knew your brother shared with his wife and slipped in, Harry not long behind you. Holly was standing in the middle of the room with her arms folded and a deep scowl on her face. Your brother was there too, looking perturbed.

“What’s going on?” He asked, throwing a worried glance at his wife.

“Excellent question.” Holly snapped. “I want to know the exact same thing.”

Harry shut the door behind him, and then silently handed her a stack of more photos we’d printed on Polaroids, held together with an elastic band.

Holly got straight to work sifting through the pile, your brother’s gaze fixed on them over her shoulder. There were easily 30 photos there - in the lake, on walks, sharing ice creams, sunbathing, cuddled together on the sofa, kissing. It was a lot of selfies, something Harry refused to smile for, and it only made you smile bigger and laugh harder. But it had been Harry’s idea to immortalise the beginning of your relationship on that vacation, and it had been your idea to give the photos to Holly as a birthday present, because you knew it would make her happy. Her punishment for getting involved was waiting to find out.

While they studied your loose holiday album, Harry leaned against the door and tugged you back by the belt loops on your jeans so that your back fell against his front. You melted into him like butter, shuddering when his breath fanned across the top of your head. He placed a subtle kiss to your crown.

“I fucking knew it!” Holly squealed, taking a look at the photos again.

“Knew what?” You demanded.

“I knew putting you in that cabin together would give us results.” She grinned.

“Told you.” Harry muttered.

You shook your head, folding your arms. “Unbelievable.”

“How long did it take?” She was practically vibrating, bouncing with excitement. Your brother had to put a hand on her shoulder to keep her still.

“How long did what take?”

“To realise you like each other!”

“A couple of weeks?”

She squeaked again, clapping her hands. “Can I keep these?” She waggled the pictures in front of us.

“That’s what they’re for, Hols. We’ve got our own copies.”

“Yay!”

“Holly,” Harry said sternly.

She stopped fidgeting and looked at him with a wide-eyed gaze. You’d never heard him use that tone with her before. Only you.

“Please don’t meddle with my relationships again. We figured you were the reason we were both up there at the same time, but this didn’t come without a hitch. We still bickered and said some nasty shit to each other.”

“And I whacked my head the first morning.” You huffed.

Harry ran a comforting knuckle up and down your spine. “Also we’re not letting you take responsibility for the result.”

“Yeah, but we all know it never would’ve happened if I hadn’t meddled.” She was still grinning.

You made a contradictory noise, “We don’t know anything, actually. But anyway, we have some ground rules.”

“Don’t be boring.”

“We’re not, Hols,” Harry said softly.

“What are they?” Your brother asked.

You and Harry laid down the law - that mostly involved not saying anything for a while to anyone but family so that you could enjoy your relationship without the media being nosey. You’d finally found your footing with one another, and you didn’t need tabloids and paparazzi complicating your happy medium just yet. For now, you wanted to just enjoy one another. You’d had the same conversation with your parents.

“This is your birthday present, by the way.” You whispered as the four of you trundled back downstairs.

“It’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had.” You’d genuinely never seen your best friend smile so much.

Harry reached over for a high five, and you didn’t hesitate to slap it. “Nailed it.”

“Hey,” your brother sauntered into the kitchen, “you guys want ice cream?”

You and Harry shared a look, and burst into laughter, because ever since that day outside the cabin, ice cream always ended up being used as a form of foreplay.

“No, I’m good.” Harry grinned.

“Yeah, no thanks.” You shook your head, still fighting off laughter.

“Are we missing something?” Your brother looked bewildered.

“Nothing for you to worry about.” Harry slapped his shoulder.

Later that night, when the buzz of alcohol was starting to wear off and the comfort of a sofa called to you, Harry took out the tub of mint choc chip from the freezer and spoon-fed you until you were so tired you couldn’t open your mouth.

“Tired?” He hummed.

“Shattered,” you yawned.

“You want me to put it away…?” He meant the ice cream tub.

You tilted your head all the way back to look at him, his face lit by only a warm glow of a candle. “Do you want to put it away?”

“No.”

“What do you want to do, then?”

He licked his lips and traced a pinky finger down your bare arm, “I want to lie you down on my bed and drip it down your chest, and then lick you from your throat to your thighs.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

~~~

Talk to me?

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goodnightmemes · 1 year

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GLASS ONION: A KNIVES OUT MYSTERY (2022) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ You can’t keep making excuses for every one of [name]’s insane whims. ❜

❛ Genius always looks like insanity at first, though, right? ❜

❛ Hey, please stop fire-spinning inside. ❜

❛ I say it like I see it, no filter. If people can’t handle it, that’s their problem. ❜

❛ You’ve got to stay off the Twitter. ❜

❛ Are you mocking me? ❜

❛ This can’t Shazam. It’s a lamp. ❜

❛ Where’s my speargun? I gotta pack. ❜

❛ He told me you haven’t left the bath for a week. ❜

❛ My mind is a fueled-up racing car, and I got nowhere to drive it. ❜

❛ I need danger, a hunt, a challenge. ❜

❛ There’s someone here for you! With a box! ❜

❛ Hello, stranger danger. ❜

❛ Excuse me, I love your accent. I had to try it. ❜

❛ You must be very special. ❜

❛ When you throw a murder mystery party, you do it right, buddy. ❜

❛ I’m not here. ❜

❛ He’s just staying here. He’s going through things. ❜

❛ This rich-people shit is weird. ❜

❛ This is stretching my stride-taking abilities. ❜

❛ Okay, let’s stop talking and actually start hanging out and having fun. ❜

❛ Why is it on the roof? ❜

❛ I wanted to ask, what are you doing here? ❜

❛ Is this part of the game? ❜

❛ I’ve learned through bitter experience that an anonymous invitation is not to be trifled with. ❜

❛ You really try. I like that. You really make an effort. ❜

❛ You never know when shit’s gonna go down. ❜

❛ I’m uncomfortable. I’m gonna go for a swim. ❜

❛ It’s true. I say it like I see it. ❜

❛ If you want to shake things up, you start with something small. ❜

❛ That’s the place where you have to look within yourself and ask, “Am I the kind of person who will keep going?” ❜

❛ That was some real red-pill stuff. ❜

❛ Every single one of you is holding on for dear life to [name]’s golden titties. ❜

❛ Wow. That was so real. ❜

❛ I’m a truth-teller. Some people can’t handle it. ❜

❛ It’s a dangerous thing to mistake speaking without thought for speaking the truth. Don’t you think? ❜

❛ Are you calling me dangerous? ❜

❛ A few cocktails before I’m murdered. ❜

❛ Halle Berry! That has a kick. ❜

❛ This simple thing that you thought you were looking at, it suddenly takes on layers and depth so complex, it gives you vertigo. ❜

❛ Every time we’ve gotten to the point where I’m going to strangle you, you pull something like this, and it’s magic. ❜

❛ I wanna be responsible for something that gets mentioned in the same breath as the Mona Lisa. ❜

❛ This is reckless. And you’re gonna get somebody killed. ❜

❛ It’s been a memorable weekend already, to be sure, but now the real fun starts. ❜

❛ Tonight, in this very room, a murder will be committed. ❜

❛ Well, to be clear, I mean, I didn’t know what a “blood diamond” was so… ❜

❛ What am I supposed to do now? Play Yahtzee all weekend? ❜

❛ I like the Glass Onion as a metaphor. An object that seems densely layered, but in reality the center is in plain sight. ❜

❛ It’s like putting a loaded gun on the table and turning off the lights! ❜

❛ Well, I’m out of here. Tomorrow morning. Gone. ❜

❛ You’re murdering my vibe. ❜

❛ So you come here, in your Gucci flats, telling us that we owe you? ❜

❛ What do you want? A check? You want performative pity? ❜

❛ I want the truth! ❜

❛ But me, I’m tired of pretending like you’re the victim in this game. ❜

❛ That changes things, right? ❜

❛ Have we ever not pulled through? Pulled it off? ❜

❛ We won’t know the cause of death without an autopsy. ❜

❛ Listen, I must insist that nobody touch the body or disturb anything around it. ❜

Are you treating this as a crime scene then? ❜

❛ I’ll pay you one billion dollars to tell me which one of them tried to kill me. ❜

❛ Oh, fiddlesticks. ❜

❛ Is that a speargun? ❜

❛ Oh, hell’s bells! Just, everybody, just stay here! ❜

❛ I can peel back the layers, I can take it to a point, but what lies at the center, only one person can tell us who killed [name]. ❜

❛ You’re not in the bath again, are you? ❜

❛ Heavens, the dog ate the caviar again. ❜

❛ It’s a stupid idea, right? ❜

❛ Listen, I want to be clear, huh? I am not Batman. ❜

❛ Any feelings of reverence or respect that you had for me when you crossed my threshold, buttress those feelings now. ❜

❛ Yeah, I’m trying real hard to buttress, but this sounds nuts. ❜

❛ Is this safe? ❜

❛ I shouldn’t be here. This is nuts. But I’m here. So let’s do this. ❜

❛ The reality-distortion field ends here. I can’t let you do this. ❜

❛ Look me in the eye! You know it’s a lie! ❜

❛ You must be really great at Clue, huh? ❜

❛ I’m very bad at dumb things. My Achilles’ heel. ❜

❛ This is your last chance to back out. ❜

❛ I think it’s really shitty what they all did to you. ❜

❛ I sold my soul for this. ❜

❛ I thought you said you didn’t drink? ❜

❛ That’s hard kombucha. That’s Jared Leto’s hard kombucha. ❜

❛ We’re running out of time! ❜

❛ Please. Think of the danger here. You gotta step back and let me handle this. ❜

❛ I never email anything that I wouldn’t want to see on the front page of The Times. ❜

❛ I think maybe you should take up drinking. You’re just killing it. ❜

❛ Something is just teasing the edge of my brain. ❜

❛ Oh, if I ever meet Jared Leto, I’m gonna whoop his kombucha-brewing ass. ❜

❛ My therapist says this is a toxic relationship. ❜

❛ We will do what we always do. Deny, half-apologize, and then go silent awhile. ❜

❛ Please tell me you did not think sweatshops are where they make sweatpants. ❜

❛ I will do whatever I have to do to save myself, and he is my only lifeline. ❜

❛ This never happens in Clue. ❜

❛ He’s a son of a bitch. Leave his ass. ❜

❛ I don’t feel sorry for him. He deserved what he got, and you are better off without him. ❜

❛ Please don’t kill me! Oh my God, please don’t kill me! ❜

❛ I’m not trying to kill you, you crazy bitch! ❜

❛ Shitballs! ❜

❛ It hides not behind complexity, but behind mind-numbing obvious clarity. ❜

❛ A veritable minefield of malapropisms and factual errors. ❜

❛ Oh, please. Just tell us who tried to kill me. ❜

❛ Nobody tried to kill you, you vainglorious buffoon. ❜

❛ What is reality?! ❜

❛ Does he keep a vial of poison in his tooth or something? Is that a rich person thing? ❜

❛ Oh, it’s so dumb, it’s brilliant. ❜

❛ No! It’s just dumb! ❜

❛ You dim-witted, brainless jackass! ❜

❛ Your one murder, with any panache at all, and you stole the whole idea from me. ❜

❛ Wow! We got some big accusations flying around here. ❜

❛ You need evidence, and you’ve got nothing. ❜

❛ Anywhere you go, it’s going to be your word against mine. How do you think that’s gonna go? ❜

❛ There’s nothing I can do. Except maybe offer you some courage. ❜

❛ I hope your little bitch tantrum gave you closure ’cause it accomplished nothing! ❜

❛ You’re ruined. ❜

❛ Did you get the son of a bitch? ❜

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #sentence meme #rp prompt #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #sentence starter meme #rp memes #rp prompts #*Movie

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brokendoor16 · 2 months

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Okay. So I just realised I haven't posted anything in a while and this has been in my head ALL DAY, so please enjoy my English-Lit-level analysis of why Too Sweet is the most Anthony J Crowley song ever to Anthony J Crowley!!

(What this means is that I'm about to analyse every single fucking lyric in excruciating detail, I apologise in advance)

HERE GOES!!

It can't be said I'm an early bird // it's 10 o'clock before I say a word- Starting off easy here. He slept through most of the 19th century, and can you IMAGINE what he'd be like in the mornings??

Baby, I can never tell // how do you sleep so well?- Bit of a stretch on this one since Aziraphale doesn't canonically sleep, but let's just say sleep is a metaphor. He's asking how Aziraphale can seem 'at peace' so easily, when he can never seem to find any sort of balance.

You keep tellin' me to live right // to go to bed before the daylight- Aziraphale has a very strict set of morals, some instilled in him by Heaven but also some of his own; it's one of the things Crowley loves about him, but it can also result in him coming off like he's telling people how to live their lives 'right'.

But then you wake up for the sunrise- Now THIS is an interesting one. Waking up at sunrise and going to bed in the daylight both result in a lack of sleep, but one is seen as a 'good' thing to do. Aziraphale is just as run-down and burnt-out as Crowley, but he's ignoring it because it's for the 'right' reasons.

You know, you don't gotta pretend- He knows what Aziraphale's doing, and he's saying that he doesn't need to hide behind his heavenly facade; he can be himself.

Baby, now and then // don't you just wanna wake up- So you could probably take this one two ways; either as the whole demonic-temptation idea, or as an invitation for something they do frequently: get drunk, sped time together, and ignore Heaven and Hell for a little while.

Dark as a lake // smelling like a bonfire // lost in a haze- Funnily enough, being 'dark' and 'smelling like a bonfire' are both things you could associate with Hell, or the Fall. You could hear this as Crowley asking 'don't you want to let go and have some fun?' or you could hear it as 'I know this is selfish, but don't you wanna Fall for me?'

If you're drunk on life, babe // I think it's great- He's acknowledging that all he really wants is for Aziraphale to be happy. If he lived by all his strict rules because that's what he wanted, or because he was 'drunk on life' enough not to NEED anything else, that would be great.

But while in this world- They're not gonna be on Earth forever, especially if you imagine it from the perspective of pre-Apocalypse Crowley, so they may as well make the most of the time they have left.

I think I'll take my whisky neat- Well, first up it's Crowley and we all KNOW he's got a drinking problem. But also, it's a way of saying 'I know you worry about me, but this is who I am, and I'm gonna do it anyway'

My coffee black and my bed at three- There's not much to analyse on this one. Six shots of espresso in a big cup, and partying till God-knows-what-time.

You're too sweet for me- oh my GOD, the things I could say about this line. Honestly, I just feel like Crowley is always worried about 'corrupting' Aziraphale, or not being good enough for him. He's 'Too Sweet' for Crowley, because he's never felt love as soft and sweet (the closest he's ever got was God, and She was quick to cast him out) and he's scared of breaking it.

I aim low // I aim true, and the ground's where I go- This bit's almost sarcastic, and a little self-deprecating; you can't aim lower than Hell, and by asking questions he sure hit his target.

I work late where I'm free from the phone- He works a little ahead of time to stay clear of Hell's reprimands, or 'phone calls'. Also, working 'late' could link to working in darkness, which he's been doing since he Fell.

And the job gets done // but you worry some, I know- Aziraphale is constantly worrying about the Arrangement; not for himself, but for what Hell will do to Crowley if they find out. Crowley constantly finds himself reassuring him that as long as 'the job gets done', he'll be fine.

But who wants to live forever, babe?- This part's almost ironic. Crowley doesn't WANT to live forever, but he will, and so he can afford to be a little reckless; to him, it doesn't matter either way.

You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate- Aziraphale is always so careful about everything he says, even to Crowley, needing to make sure he stays 'Heavenly'.

The rest of you like you're the TSA- Aziraphale is ALWAYS careful with everything, regulating everything by Heaven's rules and regulations on what he can and can't do (think the TSA do's and don't's).

I wish I could go along // babe, don't get me wrong- Despite spending most of the song (and his life) railing against Heaven's rules, part of him still wishes he'd been able to 'go along' with them.

You know you're bright as the morning // soft as the rain- It just shows that everything Aziraphale is is the exact opposite of Crowley (or at least, of his image). He's 'bright' and 'soft', two things you'd never find in Hell, and Crowley doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Pretty as a vine // as sweet as a grape- He (Aziraphale) may be 'pretty' and 'sweet', but there's something else about him. Vines and grapes turn into wine, which Crowley is already addicted to; he's scared of becoming addicted to Aziraphale's sweetness.

If you can sit in a barrel- Obviously, grapes left in a barrel ferment into wine; he's awaiting the day Aziraphale gains just enough bitterness to go against Heaven. However, wine is considerably sweeter than Crowley's aforementioned whisky, so although he wants him to see Heaven the way he does, he prioritises keeping his sweetness rather than becoming fully bitter- he may be 'too sweet', but that's what Crowley loves about him.

Maybe I'll wait // until that day- This part's almost funny from Crowley's perspective, because there's no 'maybe' about it. He'd wait eternity to be allowed to love Aziraphale.

SO. There we go. If you actually read this far, tysm and I am SO SO SORRY, but hope you enjoyed my ridiculously long and mental-gymnastics-y analysis (I will not be rereading this or I won't end up posting it, so sorry about any mistake)

Have the best day ❤️❤️

#good omens #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #ineffable idiots #character analysis #Kinda?#Song analysis more like #But from the POV of a character?#Honestly idk what happened here #And I am very very sorry about it #Anyways #hozier #too sweet #crowley good omens #anthony janthony crowley #i am unhinged about this show #Can you tell?

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quitealotofsodapop · 5 months

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Ao Lie

referencing posts like; baby Ao Lie meeting the bimawen, and Ao Lie wants to be a godfather.

I thought it would be pretty adorable if part of the reason Ao Lie is able to act a horse so well was because they were like his favorite animal as a little hatchling and while it was considered kinda weird among dragons ("Not even a seahorse? Just a... land horse???") it was fully embraced by a certain celestial stablemaster - Bimawen Sun Wukong.

Ao Lie would run off and "to be a ""play horsey" whenever he wandered away from his dad or brothers when they went to the Jade Palace for summits or banquets. He was too small to actually transform himself into a horse, but he'd turn into his noodley-snake dragon form and slink away into the stables.

Wukong likely came across the white baby dragon as he was riling up the curious horses (they all saw Ao Lie as a snake), and was like;

Wukong: "Damn, how did a baby dragon get in here? Ok little guy best get you back-" Ao Lie, hissing: "No!!! I'm horsey! I stay in stable!" Wukong, trying not to laugh: "Ok? I guess I was wrong. You're clearly a skinny white foal. My apologies." Ao Lie: :3

Even if Ao Lie doesn't remember the encounters that well, it did leave him with a positive opinion of horses, stablehands, and monkeys for some reason.

When the dragon is a teenager by the time of the Journey, all he knows about Sun Wukong is that 1: His dad and uncles don't like him, 2: He steals stuff, and 3: He's in jail. His brain doesn't make the mental connection until much later when Zhu Bajie calls Wukong a "useless bimawen!" during the Gold and Silver demons arc.

When Ao Lie first met Wukong in the stone egg au, he basically had the mental journey of; "Huh. The monkey king is kinda chubby- OMG its an egg!! Why is he walking?! Get off my back Tang monk! Don't you know mothers need plenty of rest?!"

After meeting the steed for the first time Tripitaka wonders why the "Bai Longma" is super insistent on letting Wukong ride him specifically. Remembering that the Monkey is "carrying a stone egg" (Tripitaka only knows that part and thinks its a metaphor), the monk in turn tells Wukong that he should ride instead.

Wukong, tired but still wanting to stretch his legs after 500 years under the mountain is like; "Huh? No way! I'm fine! You ride him."

After a while of Tripitaka insisting that the Monkey rides instead of him, Ao Lie gets annoyed and just sits down, causing the monk on his back to slide off into the mud. Holy cassock now muddy. Wukong gets the message but insists he'll only ride until the next village/when they get a second divine-given horse.

Zhu Bajie tries to ride Bai Longma *once* and he gets bucked off so hard he gets tossed into a lake. He swears the horse has it out for him.

I hc that this was around the time Ao Lie's older sister was having a baby, and he was really bummed out that he wouldn't be able to attend to his uncle-duties cus of his "community service" [ie. the Journey]. So he redirected some of that excitement onto Wukong, who was carrying the Stone Egg. Eggs are a huge cause for celebration among dragonkind either way since they only produce a few in their long livespan.

Wukong was a little surprised/confused by Ao Lie's doting behavior at first, but started to understand why the dragon-horse was acting that way when he spoke to Ao Moang later on during the Tuolong incident.

Prince Moang: "I must pass on congratulations. It's not common among either of our kind to behold future kin." Wukong: "Oh really? When's the last time you've seen a dragon egg?" Prince Moang: "Last year actually! Our sister Zhūlong's egg hatched around the time of your release." Wukong: "Oh. that explains why Ao Lie spoils me." Prince Moang, excitedly: "My little brother is here!? I have to tell him everything! I have woodblock paintings of the baby!" Ao Lie, running over still in horse-mode: "Show me! Show me!" Zhu Bajie, watching: "Weirdos. Its just babies. Everyone's having 'em."

And Ao Lie continues to be super doting and attentive to Wukong as the Journey continues, though he does ask after a few years when the Egg is supposed to be laid. Wukong doesn't have a clear answer for him.

After a while, Wukong says almost in jest; "With how well you've been tending to me and the Egg, I might as well make you their godfather!"

Ao Lie just *shrieks* with joy!! Yes yes yes! He would be so honoured!

Wukong doesn't even have time to explain it was a joke when the dragon hugs him, heavy tears falling on his fur.

Ao Lie: "I'm sorry. It's just that... no one at home has really trusted me with anything so important before. I know that you might... get really hurt when your Egg finally arrives and I am so glad that you trust me to care for them if you have to leave us."

Wukong realises in that moment... Ao Lie knows about Stone Eggs. He eavesdropped on a conversation held between Wukong and the Bodhisattva Guanyin early on, and silently held onto that knowledge until Wukong was comfortable sharing it with the others.

The Monkey King decides in that moment that he doesn't want to trust anyone other than the dragon prince to care for his future child. He's already proven his kind nature - and if the future Stone Monkey were to truly be born an orphan, Ao Lie would gladly help to raise them in secret away from the prying eyes of Heaven.

Unfortunately the Samadhi Fire made it so that Ao Lie would be unable to fufill this duty either...

#bai longma #lmk ao lie #sun wukong #jttw stone egged au #slow boiled stone egg au #pregnancy tw #jttw #journey the west #stone egg talk #the monkey king and the infant #the monkey king and the infant au #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk aus #gif warning

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completeoveranalysis · 9 months

Text

[1]

*appreciative gay sounds*

Ooooooh!

See now this fucks.

It’s a bit of a treat to get a cover like this that’s so BEAUTIFUL and DELICATE and actually include characters not directly involved in the plot anymore. It’s like BONUS ART: Fai and Kamui in a tender and deadly gothic vampire embrace for no particular reason :D

And we LOVE to see it!

I love the fragile looking archway behind them. It looks very Art Nouveau (I say, guessing. Please correct me) and the pose between Fai and Kamui could EASILY be on a romance novel. And in fact it SHOULD be!

We get some stunning visual contrasts, like the dark sweep of Kamui’s cape looking demonic in nature, like bat wings - which, like, vampire - but the thin white arch behind him ALSO spreads out behind him like it could be wings. Or even better, it forms more of a halo - a complete circle above his head in thin white lines. The contrast in the angelic and the demonic really speak to his role in the narrative a couple of times over; he protected Acid Tokyo but purely out of self interest; he's a dick to everyone, which is frowned upon, but he does it to protect Subaru, which is understandable; he killed Syaoran but he saved Fai; even the act of saving Fai was technically a bad thing, turning him into a vampire, but it was the only way he would stay alive, which was what we wanted!

That contrast continues into Fai’s pose here as well. He’s within the circle of Kamui’s arms, which is traditionally a place of affection or protection, but here it’s almost predatory with Fai as the prey. There's a clear indication of danger laced throughout every inch of it. Kamui’s nails stretch out in front of Fai in a way that COULD be protective, but also form a cage he will never be able to escape from, and the nail of his index finger trails SO CLOSE to Fai’s throat it could kill him with a slight twitch. The nails of his left hand also trail across the wing of his coat, becoming the traditional veins that you would see in bat wings and completing the metaphor of the monstrous. Fai, too, plays with this dichotomy - his head is tilted upwards towards Kamui, neck exposed, in a pose natural for a lover, or for someone giving access to their neck, like the vampire’s victim he is. The clear shadow across his neck (The ONLY shadow in the cover) shows just how close he is to harm, indicates the exact danger this pose puts him in, and yet we can also see him clutching at Kamui’s arm - not hard but gently, coaxing, guiding. Then again the closer I look I think the line of Kamui’s arm is actually a little bit further to the left, which might indicate that Fai is actually holding his waist, which is even more intimate again.

All in all it’s FANTASTIC, it’s GORGEOUS, I want this as a gothic creepy tapestry I hang in a castle somewhere while lightning strikes somewhere in the distance.

Oh and the splash text, where is that.

The flowing blood whispered

even if you'll defy your own destiny

protect that person --

Which slams home the theme on BOTH of these two - how much of their own intended fate they sacrifice for the people they choose to devote themselves to. But, when combined with the art, just how much this devotion and protection can actually add it's own inherent form of danger, even if they aren't aware. Kamui's protectiveness of Subaru is HARDLY balanced after all, and Fai's devotion to Sakura leads his curse to killing her. Then again, you could easily say the same thing for Sakura, who chose to put herself INTO that danger DELIBERATELY to save the people she cared for.

And so the complicated feelings and consequences that come from "protecting" someone continue to swirl around in the moral grey.

#Oooh I love the CLAMP sensibilities #What would the name of this romance novel be #I need to know #Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Tsubasa #Vol 187 #Fai #Hey look its kamui #CLAMP out here producing the most extreme gender envy for free #CLAMP also out here giving the most egregious ship bait unprompted #CLAMP really woke up and chose sexy vampire gothic romance novel cover and then SERVED #We don’t deserve CLAMP

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sparrow-ceiling · 4 months

Text

OK SO CAN WE TALK ABOUT CHARLIE'S WEAPONS AND HER FINAL BATTLE DESIGN

ik i already made a whole post abt everyone's final battle designs (if you want to see it check under my hazbinposting tag, its literally just me gushing), BUT I wanted to make a new one for Charlie because UGH

OK. So her costume stays fairly the same throughout the battle, the cute little dress with the heart on the front, which is so real of her. I mentioned this in the other post also but I thought it was really cute how Charlie usually wears pants, and Vaggie usually wears a skirt, but it switches for the battle. Idk if that has any like. Metaphorical meaning but i think it's cute.

For the weapons, we start out the battle and we see Charlie with her shield. Which yes is a very Charlie thing to have: she's a very protective character, all she wants to do is keep her people safe.

But if you LOOK AT THE shield. GOD, look at the shield. First of all, it's so pretty. Everything in this show is so aesthetically pleasing guys. BUT. There are literally FOUR visual motifs on this shield, plus colors (which are mostly just the normal color palette, but also relate to her and her father). SHIELD MOTIFS. It has (1), the wings. She's angelic & she's powerful (since Angels are kind of a symbol of power and heirarchy.) She has angelic blood from her dad, it doesn't seem like she has actual wings, but she definitely does hav the power that is associated with those wings. The wings also might be a nod to Vaggie's wings.

The shield also (2), looks like an apple. It has the little leaf in the back, and the core in the middle. Lucifer DEFINITELY also has a lot of apple imagery, so that's something she gets from her dad, to, another nod to where her power comes from. We also have (3), the snake. This might be a bit of a stretch but I'm pretty sure that part around the core of the apple that goes down into a point is a snake, which is also associated with Lucifer. Most of the motifs on the shield are a nod to her dad, to her power and where she gets it from. Also beyond physical power, she gets emotional power from her dad. She looks up to him, idolizes him, and she gets confidence from her connection with him.

The fourth and probably-not-final thing that the sheild has is its shape. This was honestly the fist thing I noticed about the shield, and you can really see it well in the above image: the shield is in the shape of a heart. As a Stranger Things fan, of course I am partial to heart shields. Just like Mike, Charlie is the heart of her party. She's the strength, she's where the love and the joy and the connection comes from. Sir Pentious, for example, only gets heart motifs in his design once he gets his heaven redesign, but Charlie has heart motifs in her design from the minute she steps on the battlefield. Look at her dress. That heart, that love, is a part of her. Love is so intrinsic to her personality and to her character that she can defy hell which honestly. She's so real for that (Also can we talk about how she looks at Vaggie in these pictures. I would die for her.)

So Charlie's heart/wings/apple/snake shield is not only a show of power because of her connection with Lucifer (with snake and apple) and her angelic blood (with the wings), but it's also an expression of her personality (with the heart and the fact that it is a shield in the first place). Her character development kind of comes to a peak here: she's learned to be confident in herself while still being that kind, loving, wonderful, dreamy Charlie, and the shield emphasizes that so well.

BUT WAIT. This isn't just a Charlie's-shield-appreciation-post (although it could be.) She literally gets THREE outfits in one episode (standard, the one with the shield, and the post-magical-girl-transformation one)

After Pentious dies and she tranforms, her appearance and her weapon change. Her physical changes are her horns, the inverted, glowing eyes, the tail (with the little heart on it!!), and her hair coming untied (so magical girl of her, but also look at the shape language! She becomes angrier more violent, and instead of that typical, soft, round bubble ponytail, her let-down hair is full of angles, especially in the picture below). We've seen her demon form a couple of times previously in the series I believe, and it happens when she experiences severe emotion and/or wants to show her power, both of which are happening right now (Honestly I love how it shows how much she loves Pentious. She's so sweet and I love her. He means so much to her.) HOWEVER, her physical appareance isn't the only thing that changes after her magical girl transformation. She also has (surprise, surprise), a new weapon!!!!

The trident doesn't have as many strong motifs in it as the shield did, but it's still fuckin. Crazy. So first and second of all we have the apple and the snake, which repeat from the shield, and still represent Charlie's power that she gets from her dad. The third thing about the trident is color scheme: The shield was red, gold, and white, will the trident introduces another color to the mix: black. I dunno what to say about this, but it's interesting to note. Something something her emotions get darker? There's probably a way to read into it but idk. lmk if anyone has thoughts on it.

Although there is the addition of the heart on Charlie's tail, this stage of her design also loses the heart on her weapon. Similar to the addition of black, this probably represents the darker turn in her design and emotion, and the darker turn in the battle. She's not completely out for love (haha see what I did there) anymore, she's also out for revenge (as an extension of love, but what she's really feeling and fighting from right now is anger, as opposed to the joy/hope/love from the start of the battle).

Anyway, the fifth and final thing about the trident is that it's no longer a defense weapon, like the shield was, it's now an attack weapon (also a very similar on to Vaggie's, which could be another nod to her). We also notice this in her demeanor! As opposed to the repeated sorries from before her tranformation, Charlie is now unapologetically violent. She charges right into the battle with Adam. She's no longer just trying to defend to protect (shield) her people, now she's going with the whole best-defense-is-a-good-offense ideology. She's on the offense in order to protect her people.

That's why I enjoy Charlie's character design and weapons in this episode so much. There are so many layers to it and UGH. THANK YOU for listening to me ramble, and lmk if you have any more thoughts on this because I would LOVE to hear them! As you can see I am totally normal about this show.

#hazbinposting #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #oh my god

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aesteraceae · 2 years

Text

2AM

Relationship: 3Racha (Chan, Changbin, Jisung)/fem reader

This fic was created for the @skzseasons may event!

Tags below the cut!

Word count: 7,142

Ao3 Link!

Tags: polyamory, songwriter & producer!reader, sub bang chan, sub Jisung, sub Changbin, dom reader, mentioned Chan/Changbin/Jisung, mommy kink, Noona kink, biting, nipple play, Changbin is a brat, semi-public sex (kind of, they're in a locked studio), voyeurism, foursome, 3racha is horny, dacryphilia if you squint, spanking, blowjobs, Praise kink, degradation, sadomasochism, face fucking, objectification, cum play, light pet play, edging, orgasm control, feminization

Notes: Mommy kinks are super fun to write, so I had a lot of fun with this one ^^

3racha's dynamic as a whole is so much fun, so it was a no-brainer to use them for this prompt.

If you enjoy this, please reblog it! It motivates me to write and I really enjoy hearing feedback, even if it's just an emoji or two <3

Tags: @sunnyville36

(Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!)

· · ────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The studio is pleasantly warm, the AC blowing hot air into the room to combat the chill of late fall.

Changbin lies over the arm of the couch, tapping out a beat on the leather cushions while he goes over the lyrics he'd written so far. His brow is furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, and you can tell he's frustrated. Jisung is sitting on the floor, back against the couch, obviously half asleep but still making a valiant effort at humming a melody.

Chan's hunched over his desk, clicking away at the audio files they'd recorded so far, and grunting softly every few minutes. His shoulders are tense, bunching up with stress and exhaustion, held tight like he'll collapse if he lets it go.

And you're in the middle of it all, lyrics sitting abandoned in the little notebook you brought.

The night had started well, ideas flowing easily, inspired by the changing season and all the metaphors that came with it.

But after a few hours the motivation slowly dwindled, and while you knew when to call it a day, "rest" doesn't seem to be in 3Racha's dictionary.

"It's getting late." You say, unlocking your phone to see that it's already well past 2 AM. The building was likely deserted by now, but of course it wasn't out of the ordinary for them to stay up this late.

Taking the opportunity to work with 3Racha had been an easy decision, but you really wished you'd known just how often they did this before you accepted.

Jisung snorts, obviously aware of the irony with the phrase "getting" late. You nudge him with your foot and he grins, stretching his arms above his head.

"It is late. And we've been working for quite a while." He says the words around a yawn, snuggling back into the couch like he planned to sleep right there on the floor.

"We've gotta get this finished, Ji," Changbin says, but he yawns soon after, and you know fatigue when you see it.

"You guys can leave, it's cool. Get some rest, it is pretty late."

Bang Chan, ever the leader. Jisung rises, moving to get his bag, but you put a hand on his shoulder.

"And I'm assuming you plan to stay here?"

Chan takes off his headphones, and you don't miss his wince at the ache of blood rushing back to his ears.

"Yeah, I have to finish this track. I won't be long."

You lean back on the couch, crossing your arms, and take in the situation. Jisung was eager to leave, eyes struggling to stay open, but he was obviously unwilling to leave Chan alone here.

Changbin was hyperfocused, still chasing a thread of inspiration that would ultimately lead him nowhere. You knew the feeling well, and it was easy to recognize.

He was most likely not going to leave until he finished the verse or fell asleep on the spot.

Or, unless you helped him relax.

Chan, however, was a completely different beast.

You'd worked with Chan before. While this was the first time with 3racha as a team, you often came to help Chan with lyrics or production, a fresh set of eyes when he got stuck.

You'd seen Chan like this. His eyes are bloodshot and drooping, blinking a bit too hard to be normal. His hands are shaking around the mouse, making the headphones clatter, and the more worrying part is that he doesn't even seem to notice.

"Okay," you clap your hands together, making Jisung jolt and Chan wince. You send them both an apologetic smile but carry on. "I don't think anyone's being productive right now."

Jisung shrugs, Changbin sighs, and Chan opens his mouth to protest.

"Nope, I'm hearing none of it, especially not from you. We are taking a break. I'm going to get water, and we're all going to think about things that aren't working for at least 20 minutes."

Chan still doesn't seem pleased, so you amend the statement. "It's that, or we

all

finish up work for tonight and go home to sleep. Those are the choices, pick one."

"There's water in the mini-fridge," Jisung adds, helpful, and you smile at him even as Chan glares.

Changbin seems hesitant, but he hands over the notebook when you hold out your hand for it.

Jisung's already put his phone and headphones away, so you move on to Chan.

He looks pissed.

"Noona, I really don't think this is necessary."

You just smile, "Ah, but that's the thing! It's not your decision to make. I know, it's a hard pill to swallow for you."

The tease was a little uncalled for, but it did get on your nerves sometimes. You didn't care when he did it for Changbin and Jisung, but when he directed his orders at you, it made you want to slap him in the face. Only a little, but still.

Chan scoffs, straightening up in the seat, squaring his shoulders.

"I'm not a child, I think I can figure out when I need a break or not."

You glare right back at him, "Your hands are shaking, Chan. When was the last time you had water or looked at something other than a screen?"

Chan opens his mouth and closes it again, and you can practically see him do the math in his head.

"Six hours," you inform him, taking his headphones and replacing them with a cool water bottle.

Jisung gives Changbin a bottle and Chan breaks with a sigh, untwisting the cap and drinking. You're handing him another bottle the moment he finishes it, and some of the tense energy seems to drain from the room.

"Good. 20 minutes starts now."

…-…-…-…-…-…-…

20 minutes did not work.

Chan lasts all of 5 minutes before he starts getting restless, rolling around in his chair and sighing dramatically as if you're going to give him attention if he does it loud enough.

At least Jisung and Changbin are well-behaved. They're curled up next to each other watching some nature documentary, one they offered to watch with Chan as well, but he refused.

"Chan, stop sighing like a princess trapped in a tower. What's your problem?"

Chan looks up, caught red-handed, and you just raise an eyebrow.

"I feel better now. Can I please work? I have an idea."

"Write it down. I'm not giving the headphones back for another 15 minutes, so you're shit out of luck there."

Maybe you were being mean, overstepping a boundary or something, but Chan doesn't blow up at you. Instead, he pulls out a pad of sticky notes and obeys, writing something out and stocking it onto the screen of his monitor.

"Good job. That wasn't hard, was it?"

You're just teasing, but Chan's eyes widen and his ears go pink. You have to break through the wave of 'that's adorable' that floods your system to respond, but you're fairly certain it doesn't show on your face.

Your tiny tiny crush on Bang Chan, (and Changbin and Jisung, for that matter) was irrelevant right now. He was probably blushing because you embarrassed him, because you just spoke to him like a dog.

Oops.

Instead of something annoyed, however, Chan just says, "Thank you." And turns around in the chair, playing something on his phone again.

... Huh.

Chan didn't seem angry, or annoyed, or even like he was going along with the teasing. He seemed sincere.

You feel eyes on the back of your neck and look back to see Changbin and Jisung watching the exchange. Changbin's giving you a knowing look, one far more suggestive than you'd expected to ever see from him.

Jisung's trying to hold back laughter, pressing his face against Changbin's shoulder.

"What?"

Jisung snickers, quickly progressing into full-bodied laughter, and Changbin can't help but join in.

Chan, however, is fuming, ears practically glowing red, though you can't tell if it's embarrassment or anger.

"Could you two not be insufferable for ten minutes?" He hisses, carefully avoiding your gaze.

"What? What's funny?"

"Nothing!"

"Chan's just being a sub."

"Changbin, for fucks sake!"

Chan looks just about ready to punch Changbin in the face, glaring and huffing, and this is the opposite of what you wanted.

"Alright, everyone relax, Jesus Christ."

Jisung and Changbin's laughter dies down and Chan looks more mortified than angry now, which was only a little better.

"Okay. I'm confused? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, noona, you didn't do anything. Chan's just being horny, that's all."

Oh. Oh.

Sometime in the last few minutes, Jisung has shifted from beside Changbin to on his lap, and Changbin's drawing little patterns on his stomach.

Oh.

You... You might have missed something important.

"I can... I can go? I don't- um, I'm not sure what you've all got um, between you so I think I'll just... Go. Yeah."

Now you're the one blushing, finally putting together all the pieces you'd just brushed off as them being close. The little glances, jokes you didn't understand...

You needed to leave. Now. Maybe then you'd keep some of your dignity and not look like a complete idiot, or worse, a creep.

"Noo, noona!" Jisung whines, sitting up a little to reach for you. He looks small like this, wrapped in Changbin's arms, which is just the weirdest fucking thought, oh my god.

"None of you know how to explain things," he huffs, glaring at Chan, who's now got his face hidden in his hands.

"Okay, listen. It's not weird, yeah? If we thought it was we would have asked you to leave ages ago. But we didn't, so it's not weird." One of his hands gestures wildly as he speaks, the other one held securely in Changbin's grasp.

"Chan isn't weirded out by you either. He's embarrassed because what you said turned him on, and that was funny to us because we've had to listen to him pine over you for months."

Chan lets put a mortified groan, and you sit back down.

"You're the worst friends ever, for the record. Fucking horrible."

"You're the one who got all hot and bothered over a little praise, that's not our fault."

Chan looks up and you think he's actually going to punch Changbin or something, but he catches your eye and stops in his tracks.

You just stare at each other for a while, time slowing to a stop as you take in his expression. He's embarrassed, sure, cheeks almost glowing with heat, but there's also something bright in his eyes, like anticipation or hope.

"What do you want me to do about that?"

You ask, voice barely above a whisper. Chan gasps, his grip tightening on the armrest. "I- what? You don't have to- I'm sorry, this is so weird, you don't have to do anything!"

Why was that so

cute? Chan's words should be making you feel even more awkward, maybe even annoyed by his evasiveness, but you can't help the endeared smile on your face as he rambles out apologies and excuses.

Your voice is more of a purr when you speak next, cutting off another apology. "That's not what I asked, Chan. What do you want me to do to you?"

He literally whimpers, covering his face with a hand and pulling one of his legs up to his chest.

"Damn, noona. You're good at this."

You have an idea.

It was probably stupid, and might get you kicked out for real, but you're already here, it can't get much weirder.

"Hey," you start, turning away from Chan for the time being to address Changbin and Jisung.

"Has it just been Chan pining over me, or you two as well?"

Changbin seems startled by the question, cheeks flushing, but Jisung grins. "Yeah. We fuck a lot, you know, and we'd always fantasize about if you were there, telling us what to do."

You blink at them, waiting for the outraged protests, but they never come. Changbin's pretending to watch the documentary again, cheeks pink, and Jisung looks somewhat annoyed rather than embarrassed.

"Huh. Then, are you both okay with doing that now? I have an idea."

Jisung jumps off of Changbin's lap, moving to stand in front of you like an obedient dog.

Changbin puts down his phone and nods, his previous cocky attitude gone as if it had never been there.

"Good. And Chan? Are you okay with this? You can call it off at any time, any of you can."

He looks up, confused at first at being addressed, but he nods after a second.

"Okay. Let's use stoplight safe words, yeah? Green for good, yellow to slow down and talk, and red to stop." Jisung bounces on his heels, impatient and growing more so by the second, so you decide to hurry along.

"Chan, get up for a second."

He blinks at you, confused, but eventually his brain catches up and he stands, stepping toward you.

"Come sit on my lap, honey."

You take Chan's spot, patting your spread thighs for him to settle down on.

"What? But- I'm... I'm heavy." His voice is small, confused and scared, and you can't help but coo at him. "Shh, honey. Just follow directions, I'll worry about everything else."

Something melts in Chan's expression, and after a moment of hesitation, he walks back over, slowly lowering himself on your lap. He doesn't fully sit, hovering above you on his knees, so you hold his hips and guide him down.

He gasps at the contact, face somehow getting redder, and he looks away.

"God, you're so pretty when you blush like that."

He immediately goes to deny it, but you just shush him.

"Let's lay down a couple ground rules, yeah?" You direct it at Changbin and Jisung as well, who jump to attention.

"Number 1, none of you can touch yourselves or each other without permission." Jisung pouts but doesn't protest, so you continue.

"Number 2, if I tell you to do something, you do it. If I say you are something, like pretty, or cute, you just accept it and don't deny or protest."

Chan looks back at you, outraged, but you level him with a warning look. "These are in effect now, unless someone has an issue with them."

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, eventually sighing deeply and looking away again.

"Number 3, I want to hear every little sound you make. Every gasp, every moan, every

scream.

I'm taking full advantage of this room being soundproof. If I catch you muffling your noises, I'll stop touching you. Understand?"

Changbin curses under his breath, and you smile.

"Okay. I might add rules later on if I deem it necessary, but that's all for right now. Any questions?"

"What should we call you? Noona, or something else, like mommy?"

You think the question over for a moment, imagining how the boys might say both names, around moans or through tears.

"Either one. Mommy or noona, nothing else."

Changbin raises his head, a challenge in his tone. "And what if we don't? Will you punish us?"

There's a tease in his voice, something condescending and rude, but you just smile at him.

"If you want to go ahead and find out, be my guest. It'll be Jisung giving you your punishment until I finish up with Chan here, so I suggest you get it out of your system now, before my hands are free."

He curses again, louder this time, and you blow him a kiss.

"Alright. Let's get started, then."

You take Chan by the hips again and pull him closer, chest to chest, and ignore his yelp.

"You two, get on the floor by my feet and start getting each other off. Do whatever you need, but you're not allowed to take clothes off, and you need to ask me if you want to cum."

They jump on the opportunity, Jisung practically pulling Changbin down to the floor with him and into a kiss.

Sloppy moans and sighs quickly fill the room, so you turn your attention back on Chan. His dick is pressed right against your stomach, so close you can feel it twitch.

"Can I kiss you, honey?"

Chan nods, tongue darting out to lick his lips. You hold his jaw as you lean in, keeping him still as you press your lips to his.

He reciprocates as much as he can with his jaw held so tight, little gasps and sighs escaping every so often as you deepen the kiss, guiding his lips apart and sucking his tongue into your mouth, mapping out every inch of the wet space.

When you finally pull away Chan looks wrecked, tongue hanging out of his mouth for a few seconds, like he'd forgotten what to do with it without you there to guide him.

Fuck, this was going to be

fun.

If Chan got this overwhelmed from just a kiss, you can't wait to see what happens when you actually touch him.

"Fuck, hyung, you're so hot. Noona, you're making him such a slut already." Changbin moans, fingers tangled in Jisung's hair while they grind on each other, both turned so they can see what you're doing to Chan.

"I'm not a slut!" Chan snaps, ducking his head into your shoulder, and you can't help but laugh.

"But you are, Channie." Changbin's voice is low, almost a growl, only getting deeper every time Jisung rolls his hips. "Such, fuck, such a little whore." Jisung adds, far less coherent than Changbin seems to be.

"All noona did was kiss you and you're already shaking. Is he hard, noona?"

Chan's whining against your shoulder, shaking his head every so often. "N-no, I'm not a whore!" He says, voice shaking, and worry floods your system. "Chan, color?"

He gasps, choking back a sob, "Green. I'm green, I like it, just- it's a lot."

You nod, securing an arm around his waist as your other hand combs through his hair, gentle and grounding. You stay like that for a moment, letting him breathe, and once he doesn't seem on the verge of tears anymore, you tighten your grip on his hair and pull his head up.

"Tell them, honey. Are you hard from just a kiss?" Tears spring to his eyes again but you can tell it's from embarrassment this time as he raises a hand to cover his face. "Yes. I'm- fuck, I'm so fucking hard."

Changbin groans and Jisung lets out a delicious little whimper.

"Good boy. You're so good for me." You praise, sliding both hands down to his hips. You squeeze, gently at first and then harder, making sure he can feel your nails digging into his skin. "Mommy, fuck!" He hisses, back arching, trying to press further into your hands.

There's something about the way he says

mommy, desperate and shaky, like the word is unfamiliar to his jaw but forces itself out anyway, purely out of wanting to please you. You can't help but groan, using your grip on his hips to grind him against you.

Chan gasps, grabbing at your arm as you repeat the motion, rolling your hips up to meet him.

"Jesus Christ, Jisung,

fuck-"

You glance up, just in time to watch Changbin toss his head back, falling back on his elbows as Jisung grinds on him, both hands pinching at his nipples.

He shaking, gasping for air, and you can see his thighs tensing, see the euphoria slowly spreading across his face.

"Jisung, stop right now."

Your voice is sharp, and Jisung stops, more out of being startled than actually wanting to obey.

Changbin whines, reaching for Jisung's hips to make him move again, but you snap your fingers.

He pauses, staring at you with a mixture of frustration and annoyance.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. What did I tell you to do if you're about to cum?"

Jisung climbs completely off of him, trying to hide the smile on his face.

"Fucking- stupid fucking rule-"

He cuts himself off on a groan, too embarrassed to touch himself with you staring him down like this but almost frustrated enough to do it anyway.

You heave a deep sigh and kiss Chan again, tapping his thigh once to signal him to get up.

He does, even if you need to steady him a bit.

"I hadn't even started with Chan yet, so you get to have

me give your punishment."

Changbin sits up, sensing the dangerous edge in your voice. It's intoxicating, seeing the fear and excitement in his eyes, knowing that you're the reason for it.

"And because you interrupted Chan's turn with your disobedience, you'll get him off while I punish you."

Changbin's breath hitches, and you smile.

You end up sitting on the couch with him over your knee, pants and boxers pulled down to his ankles while you rub small circles against the skin, just to see him squirm.

Jisung kneels in front of you, kissing and biting at his thighs, scratching his nails against the soft skin. He was excited when you asked him to help punish Changbin, but if you were reading Jisung right he wouldn't be well behaved for very long.

That was fine, though; You liked a challenge.

Chan's sitting next to you, petting Changbin's hair as he waits for your cue to start fucking his mouth.

"I'm going to spank you until you can make Chan cum."

Changbin perks up, glancing at Chan's dick by his face with anticipation.

"But, Chan will be fucking your mouth. You'll go at whatever pace he wants, or whatever pace I tell him to go at. Do you understand?"

Changbin noticeably deflates, swallowing hard. He'd underestimated your intensity, but you'd make sure to correct that mistake.

He nods, small, more of a shift really, and you smack his thigh. He jumps, snapping his head back to look at you, outraged. "Verbal answers, Changbin. Do you understand?"

"Fuck, yes! Jesus Christ."

You can't help but roll your eyes, grabbing him by the hair to guide him onto Chan's cock.

"Such a mouth on you, Jesus. Let's hope you're just as good at giving head as you are at mouthing off."

"He is," Chan whispers, eyes already closed as Changbin sinks onto his cock, hands scrabbling for purchase on the couch.

"Grab his hair, guide him. Just take what you want, baby, use him like a toy."

Changbin whines, thighs pressing together, and Jisung laughs, prying them back apart.

He slides between them, lazily jerking his cock while he sucks another hickey into his hip.

"Oh, do you like that?" You dig your fingernails into Changbin's ass, smiling when he jolts. "Do you like the idea of Chan using you like a toy? Having him fuck your mouth like you're just a Fleshlight, nothing more?"

"Fuck- god that's hot, shit." Chan groans, guiding Changbin's mouth in slow, deep thrusts.

His eyes are glued to Changbin's face, refusing to leave even when you lean over to kiss his neck.

"Binnie here's got a thing for being treated like an object," Jisung says, ever the helpful one, and you reach over to run a hand through his hair as a reward.

"Once, I used him as a footrest while I wrote lyrics. He was so hard afterward, all I had to do was pinch his nipples before he came."

Changbin groans, kicking Jisung with surprising force, and you wind your hand back and bring it down on his ass with a sharp

smack.

He gasps hard enough that Chan lets him up to breathe, stilted moans and whimpers at the leftover pain.

"Plus, he's got the pain tolerance of an ant."

You smack him again, a little lighter this time, but he still flinches away.

"You're so helpful, Jisung. Thank you, honey."

Changbin scoffs, glaring back at Jisung. "Kiss ass."

Another smack and all traces of smugness leave him, replaced by pain and pleasure.

"You talk so

much.

Get back to doing what you're good for, bitch."

Chan helps him back onto his dick, moving faster this time, and you make a little game of matching your slaps to the soft noises he makes.

He's sobbing after a few minutes, nails digging crescent-shaped bruises into Chan's thighs as his pace picks up again, now fully fucking his mouth. Chan's head is thrown back, one of his legs pulled up onto the couch for more leverage to thrust his hips back into Changbin's mouth.

Jisung joins in, smacking Changbin's thighs, right over every hickey and bruise.

Changbin gargles something, sounding urgent, and you pull his head off of Chan's dick.

"Gonna cum!" He shouts, tongue rolling out to still lick Chan's cock even with your hand in his hair.

Jisung grins, somewhat feral, and he leans in and

bites Changbin's hip, hard.

"Oh my god, oh my god- Fuck!"

"Don't you dare cum without permission, slut. Make Chan cum first, can't you do the one thing I asked?"

Changbin starts again with renewed fervor, licking and sucking while Chan gasps and moans above him, startled by the sudden change in enthusiasm.

"Oh my god-" He gasps, tossing his head back against the couch, and you can't resist pulling him into a kiss.

He tastes like sweat and heat as he moans against your mouth, high and desperate. You can't focus enough to keep spanking Changbin so Jisung takes over for you, whispering things in his ear and biting anywhere he can reach.

You don't pay him any mind, too preoccupied with Chan, with his masterful tongue even as he comes undone. "Please, mommy, I'm close," he pants, lips brushing against yours as he speaks and you don't want to pull away to give him permission, so you just kiss him harder, intense and

hot, and Chan seems to take the hint.

He groans, hips bucking up and shoving his dick deeper into Changbin's mouth, making him gag and moan around it. Chan pulls him off then, letting his head rest on his thigh while he rides it out. You reach for chan's dick, sliding your hand over it even as Chan whimpers from the overstimulation.

"So fucking hot. Did you swallow, Binnie?" You turn to him, hips still grinding into nothing, mouth sealed shut.

Jisung moves to whisper into Changbin's ear, "Go on, show her. Show noona what you like to do with Chan's cum."

Changbin leans up on shaking arms and kisses Chan, wet and sloppy, and oh.

Changbin didn't swallow, he held chan's cum in his mouth, and now he's kissing Chan with it.

Chan whines into the kiss, lapping up the cum from Changbin's tongue like a puppy, even making sure to lick up the excess that escapes their kiss.

"Holy fucking shit." You whisper, entranced, and Jisung climbs onto the couch next to you.

You don't pay him any attention as he starts pulling your clothes off, still too focused on Changbin and Chan, who've now started grinding down against each other. It's too good of a show to chastise them for it, and you suppose they both earned the reward.

Jisung bites your shoulder,

hard,

And you yelp. "Hey! You've ignored me this entire time, noona. I've been patient, I even helped! They'll entertain each other, please, I want you to touch me."

And just like that, your attention couldn't be further from the kissing pair next to you.

Jisung is flushed and pouting, annoyance bright in his eyes, and you can't help but feel a little guilty. That's alright, you'd make it up to him.

"Oh, you poor little thing," You push him back against the couch and straddle his hips, dragging your wetness over his aching dick. You're not sure when he got naked, probably before he undressed you, but you were too preoccupied to notice either action.

Now, though, it was hard to focus on anything other than your nakedness, how the warm air makes your nipples ache, and how perfect Jisung's dick feels against your cunt. He's not the biggest, smaller than Chan but a little bigger than Changbin, and suddenly your hit with the image of the three of them, lining their dicks up and checking which one was biggest.

Chan won for biggest, but you had to admit that Jisung's looked absolutely delectable. It curved upwards towards his belly button, decently thick and veiny, and you can't decide if you want it in your mouth or your cunt more.

Jisung reaches for your hips, not guiding your motions but supporting them, just looking for something to hold on to while you're taking him apart.

"Shit, please. I'm not gonna last long to begin with, please, I need you, noona."

You smile, bracing a hand on his chest to get more leverage to grind on him, "Aw, what an easy little pet you are. Are you gonna cum just from me grinding my pussy against you? Is that all it's gonna take?"

He gasps, turning his head away to try and hide his face in the couch cushions.

He's so pretty like this, cheeks a pretty pink, and you can tell your moans are getting to him. He's twitching against you, pulsing, and you're sure that you could feel his heartbeat if you focused enough. "Please, noona- I'm not gonna last, please!"

"So pathetic, I can't even fuck you properly without you cumming on the spot. Fine, cum, I'll just fuck you through it."

You finally reach for his dick and line it up with your pussy, sinking down in one smooth movement.

Shit.

You can't even tease him like this, entire body so insanely sensitive that you have to take a breather. It was easy to ignore the way you soaked through your panties while watching them, always more focused on dominating, but now, finally being stimulated after what must have been an hour now, it's overwhelming.

"You're so tight, oh my god-"

Jisung looks like he's just seen God, head thrown back and hips twitching, just begging you to move.

Some of the teasing spirit returns to you as you slowly start to ride him, long, deep strokes keeping you both on the edge.

"Fuck, so good. And to think, I'll only get it for a second because you'll cum so soon. Really a shame."

Jisung shakes his head even as you feel him twitch inside of you, watching his abs tense with the force of his upcoming release.

"Don't deny it, slut. You're going to cum, I can feel it. Do it, I want to feel it fill me up, I want to watch you whine when I fuck you through it."

Jisung moans, back arching, and his hips snap up once, twice, and-

You don't do this enough, you decide as Jisung cums inside you, sobbing and loud, holding onto your hips for dear life.

"Good boy." You keep riding him, shuddering at the wet slide and the absolutely obscene noises it makes.

"Fuck, look. Chan, Binnie, come look." You lean over Jisung, caging in his head with your arms. He takes the opportunity to pull one of your nipples into his mouth, which is not helping your attempts at being coherent. Changbin squeezes your ass, spreading your cheeks to get a better view of where your pussy takes in Jisung's cock.

"Can I touch, mommy?"

You can almost feel Chan vibrating with energy behind you, but your voice is so shot you can't do anything but nod.

He leans over your back and kisses your neck, almost reverent in his touch, and you feel that familiar curl in the pit of your gut.

The wet slide of Jisung's dick inside of you, his desperate moans directly in your ear, Changbin kneading your ass, and chan's lips on your neck, it's all too much to handle.

You feel a scream building in your throat and muffle it by pressing your lips against Jisung's, speeding up and swallowing down every whine he lets out.

Changbin snakes an arm around your hip and draws tight circles around your clit and you're done for, thighs clamping down around Jisung's hips and sinking fully onto him, scratching at his shoulders for something to hold on to.

When the world stops spinning you sit up, rising up off of Jisung and back into Chan's arms. He cuddles up against you while Changbin helps Jisung up, and you notice the wet spot underneath him.

"Oops. Sorry about your couch, Chan."

He just shrugs, burrowing deeper into your shoulder, and you hold him tighter. "This has to happen again. Immediately."

Changbin muses, the most lucid of them, already cleaning Jisung up a bit with a towel.

"Give me like 3 days to remember how my legs work and then I'm down," Jisung says, words still slurring together.

"I give it 48 hours, tops, before he's sending you nudes." Changbin smiles, approaching you with a fresh towel. You let him clean you up, unsticking from Chan for a moment. His touch is gentle and grounding, and you definitely feel less sticky when he's finished.

"Thank you, honey. You've got this aftercare thing down, huh?"

You can't help kissing his cheek before he turns to Chan, smiling at the way he flushes pink.

"I do it a lot. These two turn into liquid after they cum, so I usually do it."

You just hum, standing up to retrieve a towel of your own.

Chan manages to get Changbin into his lap while he cleans him up, so you take the opportunity.

He jumps when you start kissing down his back, but he doesn't stop you.

Chan does whine a little when you have to turn Changbin around, but he's quickly sated with a kiss.

Changbin looks confused as you clean up the sweat and cum off of him, but you pause when you see that he's still hard. He notices the moment you do, turning his head to the side and hiding his face with a hand.

"Did you not cum?" You ask, massaging one of his thighs, and he shakes his head, just a little.

"I got distracted by Chan, I wanted to make him cum, and then you were fucking Jisung and I sort of... Forgot?"

You put down the towel and sink down to your knees, smiling up at Changbin's blushing face.

"Well, that just won't do, will it? I didn't edge you that hard just to not see your face when you cum."

He looks down at you, startled, and you just smile, licking a long stripe up the length of his dick. He gasps, head falling back, and you can't help but laugh a little.

"You- you really don't have to, I'm okay." You smack his thigh, smiling again when he winces.

"Binnie, you earned this," you whisper, pulling one of his thighs up and over your shoulder.

"You took your punishment so well, and you took such good care of Chan and Jisung for me. You've earned a good, hard orgasm, and I'm going to make sure you get it."

"Really, it's okay. You don't have to worry about me. I've gone without cumming before, I'll be fine."

"Changbin, I want to make you cum. Can I?"

There's something hesitant but hopeful in his eyes as he says,

"Okay."

His voice is timid and low, and you wrap your lips around his tip.

Changbin wasn't the biggest, but he made up for what he lacked in length with thickness. There's a distinct satisfaction with having him in your mouth, full, stretching your lips wide.

He breaks out in full-body shivers when you reach the base, hands fluttering around for a moment before he decides on putting them on his thighs, back arching with pleasure.

You trail a hand up to his chest, cupping one of his pecs just to hear him whimper.

His thighs are shaking, and you can tell he's trying not to fully pull you into him, you can tell he's holding back.

"What is it, Binnie? You're shaking like a leaf."

He turns away, caught red-handed.

"I- it's nothing, I'm sorry."

That's bullshit and you both know it, so you turn your head to press kisses against his thigh.

"Tell me, honey. I just want to make you feel good."

The muscle jumps under your lips, still on edge, and you soothe him with a soft squeeze.

"I... It's- it's embarrassing." Changbin's face is fully buried in his hands now, bright red, and you hold back a smile to make sure he doesn't feel mocked.

"I think at this point we can get past a little embarrassment, yeah? I mean, your dick was just in my mouth."

He nods and takes a deep breath, finally peeking an eye out to look at you.

"You... Um, can you... Could you humiliate me?" His words are barely above a squeak but you can still understand him, and you smile.

"Of course, honey. But I was doing that earlier, and you didn't get like this about it. What else do you want me to do?"

He pulls one of his legs up to his chest and hides against it before he answers. "Can you, like... Call me girly things? I mean, like- treat me like a girl? I know it's weird, I'm so sorry!"

You coax his leg back down and rise up to meet him on the couch, keeping his thigh over your shoulder so he ends up almost bent in half. He yelps at the new position but you don't pay him any mind, instead leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"Ah. You want me to treat you like a little whore, huh? A slutty little girl?"

The reaction is immediate and oh so satisfying. Changbin gasps and his cock twitches against your leg, eyes sliding shut.

"Y-yeah..." His voice is barely more than a whine, shaky and soft, begging for something you're all too willing to give.

"Does my baby girl want mommy to touch her nipples?"

Changbin shudders, eyes slipping closed, and he can only manage a nod.

"Use your words, slut. Tell me, tell me how much you want it."

"Please," he whines, barely audible, reaching for your shoulder.

"Please what? I can't read your mind."

He huffs, frustrated, and you just smile at him while he works out what to say.

"Please touch my nipples, mommy. Please, I need it."

You lean down and wrap your lips around one of them, pinching the other, and Changbin

sobs.

"Mommy!" He gasps, burying a hand in your hair while you bite and suck, making his back arch and hips buck with every flick of your tongue.

"God, I love how you sound. Keep moaning like that for mommy, okay?"

You can see tears in Changbin's eyes as he nods, mouth opening around another desperate whine.

Changbin's writhing by the time you finally pull away from his nipple, lips bitten red and cheeks flushed.

"You're so pretty like this, all flushed and desperate for me."

You wrap a hand around his cock, rubbing circles on the tip, and he practically chokes on a moan. "Mommy please, please make me cum, I need it," you muffle his begging with your mouth, digging your nails into his thigh while you jerk him off, swallowing up his desperate moans.

He throws his head back after a moment, chest heaving with effort, and you pull back to look at him properly.

He's flushed pink from head to toe, legs shaking, hips bucking up into your hand with what little leverage they have. He's

loud, louder than he ever was before, whining and moaning at anything you do, even if it's just a heated look.

He's desperate for you, and the feeling is almost enough to drive you insane.

"Is my little girl going to cum? Do you want to cum for mommy?"

Changbin sobs, loud and needy, voice shaking, "please, please let me cum, mommy!"

"I'm going to count down from 3, okay? When I get to 1, you can cum."

Changbin whimpers but nods, eager to please you, to follow orders.

"Three,"

You speed up your strokes, leaning over to bite hickeys into his neck and shoulders.

"Two,"

Changbin sobs, scratching bright red lines into your back as he braces himself, that heat threatening to explode.

"One."

Changbin wails, thrashing like a wild animal as cum coats your fingers, sobbing and shivering as you stroke him through it.

Gently, you take his leg off of your shoulder and place it back down, retrieving a towel to clean you both up.

He's still jittery when you finish, shaking with aftershocks every so often, and you smile as you snuggle up beside him, pulling him up against your chest.

Jisung had long since fallen asleep, not even stirring with how loud Changbin was, but Chan was still awake, so he snuggles in closer to you as well.

"Thank you."

"What for?" You reach up to run a hand through his hair, resting your head on his shoulder.

"All of this. Helping us relax." You raise an eyebrow and he laughs, sheepish, "Alright, helping

me relax. It means a lot."

Chan's voice is soft, even a bit nervous, and it makes your heart rate spike a little even with how tired you were. "Of course. This was really good, 10 out of 10."

He snorts, but there's still something distant in his eyes.

"Alright, what is it?"

Chan breaks almost immediately, "Okay, just- you don't have to."

"Respectfully, you couldn't force me to do anything."

"Right. Well, all I'm saying is that I get like that... Decently often. And this... This helped. Not even just the sex, you telling me to relax and making me do it. It took away the internal stuff of thinking I should be doing more, because I can't. It's just... It's nice. So, if you're up for it, could we do this again? Or even regularly, if you want?"

Instead of an answer, you reach up and press your lips together.

"Stupid Channie," you smile against his lips, "As if someone could deny you three?"

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