#London engagement shoot.
Link
I’ve been to Surrey quite a few times in the last month. You’ve seen the Northbrook Park wedding – now check out Louisa and Jeremy’s big day. I shot Tom and Jennifer’s wedding. They were there. I also shot Amy and Carlo’s wedding. They were there too. As Jeremy and Louisa live down-under I wasn’t too sure what to expect but I knew (based on their friends weddings) that it would really be a lot of fun. I’m not going to talk too much about their day.
#wedding photography in bristol#pre wedding photoshoot#priston mill wedding photographer#pre wedding shoot#Ice Cave Pre Wedding Shoot#pre wedding shoots#London engagement shoot.#londonwedding
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Callum Turner x Reader // Phone Sex
A.N: Very smutty. Anonymous requested phone sex, there it is.
Plot: As Callum starts the shooting of a new feature film, he feels very horny. His girlfriend too. Phones might be the key to their problem.
Callum had just finished packing his suitcase when Posy, his pug, entered the room. As usual, the dog smelled that he would be leaving for long enough for her to miss him. She lay her pink nose on his thigh as he had kneeled on the floor to pet her. Y/N was witnessing the scene while folding the clothes that had not fit in the suitcase. She too was starting to feel the weight of the departure on her shoulders.
Y/N and Callum had been dating for four years and were engaged for three months but it still was harsh to see him leave, even after all those sets and award shows he would attend by himself, sometimes on another hemisphere. Once Posy had had her share of hugs and pats on the head, Callum turned to his girlfriend. He reached out for her, grasped her hips to bring her closer to his chest and lifted her chin as she was looking at the floor with a tear by the corner of her eye. He placed a kiss on her lips as gently as a dove landing while whispering in her ear: “You’re the love of my life. I’ll be home soon, darling!”
Though the distance between the two of them for the upcoming weeks was shorter than usual as Callum was going to Belfast and Y/N was staying in London for her own job, the couple felt terrible about it. Y/N accompanied Callum to Heathrow and watched him check-in. He waved goodbye at her behind the high wall of glass and was soon nowhere to be found.
***
“I’ve arrived sweetheart and I already miss u xx”, Callum texted as he landed at Belfast airport.
Y/N read that text over and over again, as she was preparing some Earl grey. She muffled herself in some blankets that still smelled like her lover and played some TV show on Netflix. She had no idea what the plot or the title to that show were as she was focusing mostly on her dog and phone.
Y/N had always needed some time to accommodate to Callum being away. She knew that in a few days, she would be able to socialise with her friends again and going for drinks with her colleagues after work but as for tonight, she felt no energy and fell asleep rather quickly after.
When she woke up the next day, she emerged with some notifications on her phone. Along with spams on her mailbox, she had received two texts from Callum:
// 07.23 am - Callum // Hi darling, hope you’re ok. I feel like shit, missing u like crazy
// 07.31 am - Callum // Forgot to tell u just how much I adore u
His first text was an understatement. In fact, Callum had not slept much the night before as he had kept on thinking of Y/N for most of the night. He missed her habit of making up (terrible) jokes in all situations, her Earl grey which was like a drug to him, and also the intimacy the two were sharing.
Usually, Callum was dealing well with the lack of sex his job could come with. Usually, he was fine with onanism and some sexting with his girlfriend. But ever since the two of them had gotten engaged, and for a reason he ignored, the sex had become amazing. It was incredible before the engagement but now it was out of this world. And they had not been separated ever since the engagement party.
Needless to say, Callum was getting very much horny just thinking about her girlfriend being naked or touching his chest. By 2 pm, he took a break to go get a lunch and enjoyed that time to text Y/N.
// 02.08 pm - Callum // I miss you and your body
When Y/N read that, she was relieved that she was not the only thinking that as she had this thought and this thought only on her mind. She caught herself daydreaming of making love to Callum during a meeting in the morning and she could not help but to imagine what it would be like to have him. The two of them had had sex before going to the airport, so only a few hours prior but it was difficult not to imagine something else.
// 02.54 pm - Y/N // I wish I could be yours too
// 04.11 pm - Callum // How about I call you tonight to get it settled?
Callum had never imagined suggesting something as crude as that. They had never thought of having phone sex but desperate situations call for drastic remedies, he thought.
// 04.48 pm - Y/N // I dare you!
Y/N could not quite believe what she had just read as Callum was not the resourceful when it came to sex. His education had made him rather shy to talk about the subject, even more so to initiate it. But Y/N was willing to give it a try.
// 05.02 pm - Callum // Is 10 tonight fine by you?
// 05.07 pm - Y/N // Yes! Can’t wait!
Y/N was feeling a sexual tension growing as she was imagining the call and she was glad she could clock out from her dayshift and go back home to make herself comfortable. As soon as she arrived, she rushed to her closet to pick fancy underwear. She knew exactly which ones were driving Callum absolutely crazy and gazed in the mirror at the beauty she had in front of her. Red truly was her colour, she thought.
After running some errands and making her some food, she felt as though she could start the session on her own and started moving her hands below her trousers but then she received a call from Callum.
// 09.56 pm - Call entering: Callum //
“Hi darling, I’ve waited so long for this…”
“Hey Cal, getting horny much?”
“You have no idea. It was tough concentrating on my script with you on my mind”
Y/N lay in their bed, her eyes facing the ceiling and one hand on her chest, actively searching for her breasts. By doing that, she got the camera rolling and asked for FaceTime to get started.
“Ooh, I see you put on that naughty bodysuit I got you, huh? You know it drives me insane to see you wearing it”
“Take a wild guess as to why I put it on then”
“Good, I see you’re as excited as I am”
“You have no idea what went through my mind all afternoon. All the indecent stuff I was thinking of that got me blushing”
“Hmmm”, Callum slightly moaned through the phone.
“What would you do to me if you were in London right now?”, Y/N asked as candidly as possible while she ran her other hand on her thigh.
“I would bite your lips with my teeth and then I would lick your tits, making them as red as your gown”
“Would you allow me to touch your chest back?”
“Oh darling, I would allow you to do everything”
“Touch your chest then”, Y/N ordered.
“We’ve got the right to order stuff now? If so, play with your tits. Show me how red they’re getting”
Y/N obliged as Callum slid his hands under his shirt.
“Take your shirt off. I want to see it too”
“Commanding, much?”
“I thought I had the right to ask you anything”
“Hmm, sure. Anything for you”
“Touch your thighs with your other hand so we’re equal”
“You’ve been touching yourself, haven’t you, huh? Couldn’t wait for me”
“Didn’t make myself come though. I can’t wait for you to do that to me”, Y/N replied.
“That bodysuit is fine but you know what I’d love to see even more?”
“Let me guess”, Y/N said while taking off one strap of the discussed piece of clothing.
“That’s right, take it off so I can admire your gorgeous body. God! You’re fucking hot like that too”
“Get higher with your hands. Show me how hard you got, pretty boy!”
Callum took off his trousers and a bulge could be seen from his underwear.
“I would do anything to play with it right now. But for now, you’ll have to do it for me. Stroke it slowly”
“I like that bossy tone of yours. Do you want me to remove my boxers for you?”
“Huh-huh. Let me see what my cunt is missing”
Callum took off his underwear, unveiling a boner that he had had for a good amount of his day. He gently began touching the length, imitating the back and forth movement of penetrating Y/N.
Y/N could feel her loins getting wet by the second she noticed his movements and mostly when Callum got to moaning unintelligibly words that sounded like pleas. She reached for her labias and grazed the surface, with Callum’s cock as sole thing on her mind.
Callum sensed some pre-cum on his fingers as he was getting close to the edge. He asked between two moans “I want to see you getting wet for me. I want to imagine myself fucking you”
Y/N approached the phone to her thighs and showed him how her fingers were taking care of the pond between her legs.
“God, Y/N! You’re so fucking hot! I wish I could come inside you”
Y/N moaned at the suggestion. She too was wishing for that. To have her pussy circling his cock so tight that she would feel every drop dripping out of it.
“Keep playing with yourself. I’m gonna fucking come”, Callum warned as the veins of his cock were showing on screen.
Callum stroked harder and harder, feeling a near release as he grabbed a pillow near him to press something.
“Y/N, fuck!”, he moaned as his cock emptied on a towel. He gasped for air as he came back from his ejaculation.
Seeing that, Y/N wanted her share to and asked Callum to talk to her.
“When I come home, I’m gonna lick every part of you and fuck you so hard that I’ll make you moan the way you just made me come. Think of your fingers as though they were mine. Play with yourself, baby. I love that sight”, Callum could not stop talking as he felt his cock wanting a second round by just looking at Y/N touching herself.
Y/N put her fingers as instructed by Callum, playing with her pussy with a rapid pace. Though she could not comprehend most of what was happening, she sensed her breathing growing heavy. A few moans escaped her mouth before she ultimately cried out “You’re gonna make me come, Cal”
“Good. Carry on, I want to hear you moan louder”
“I’m…”, Y/N hardly found a way to express herself as she hit a spot Callum knew by heart would make her flail.
“You’re so hot when you come for me”, Callum snickered as Y/N was done with exhaling after having come.
“I’m still waiting for the live version of that. But I guess we could do it every day before you’re coming back”
“I wouldn’t mind”, Callum commented.
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☆ the wrong way to hard launch (2) | OP81
summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au
pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc
a/n more unserious behaviour
masterlist | last part | part 2 | next part
TWITTER
kayla @luna_apocolyse · 42m
oomf... i fear you have girlbossed too close to the sun with this one
↳ MANIFESTED OSCALINA | LONDON N3 @12m0red4ys · 31m
nothing comedic about it i was PRAYING actually
lila💚 @kasdanrights · 23m
OOMF YOU SHOULD CHECK LINA'S STORY 😭😭😭
↳ li(n)a @meliabelrose · 19m
I ACTUALLY CAN'T WITH THIS UNSERIOUS WOMAN
INSTAGRAM
selinabui just posted to their story
TWITTER
MANIFESTED OSCALINA | LONDON N3 @12m0red4ys · 3m
THAT'S SUCH A DEEPCUT TWEET ADFJSDF is she stalking me or smth AND THAT FUCKASS FONT PLS LINA I BEG YOU TO USE ANOTHER FONT and she tagged his ass as well
↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 3m
thanks bestie we finally got the rest of the bday shoot bc of u 🫶
pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 12m
ok i see the vision, she is the vision, wtf is in the zhou genes? modelling?
↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 11m
oscar, pookie, i think she's a bit out of ur league but good luck?
↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 7m
i heard her sing, she's definitely out of ur league, i'm rebranding
liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 1h
do you think lina saw the comments under that tweet bc if so 😭
↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 1h
this four-reply run SENDS me every time
↳ june @linafesting · 54m
what was the context of this time period why are the comments so scattered? (new linami here)
↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 49m
i think this was around the time t*mmy got engaged and the paps were hounding lina and everyone was telling her to fight back (get a bf)
INSTAGRAM
emptybottlos
liked by zhouguanyu24 and 9,421 others
emptybottlos THE only cousins to ever cousin
tagged: selinabui and zhouguanyu24
selinabui DELETE PLS I DIDN'T NEED TO SEE THIS
↳ selinabui @ selinabui I PROMISE I'LL BE GOOD JUST PLS DELETE THIS I HATE THIS SO MUCH
zhouguanyu24 😂😂😂
selinabui
liked by lukaszhang, oscarpiastri and 118,023 others
selinabui the desperate image reversal post
stakef1team Kick Sauber green 💚
↳ selinabui @stakef1team absolutely not but ok bestie stay delulu
pi4str1 oscar in the likes 😭 buddy ur supposed to be getting ready for qualifying???
pastry81 is lina gonna be at the race???
↳ mickeyko @ pastry81 no :( the whole band flew out to jakarta this morning for the asian leg of the tour
TWITTER
↳ kay ♡ @ blackcatluna · 4h
ok guys this has exited my little circle - just to clarify THIS IS A JOKE I'M NOT A KASLINA TRUTHER !!!
↳ kaslina on my mind ☁️ @kaslinatruther · 5h
look at my babies 🥹
↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 4h
IJBOL ARIANA (kaslina) WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???
↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 4h
certainties of the world: sun rising from east, kaslina resurgence every time one of them has a dating rumour
↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 4h
LEAVE MY TWIN GUITARS ALONE
↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 4h
and it's always when it's a DATING rumour, never when they break up
↳ emme @flowersforcami · 4h
every baby empty bottles fan goes thru a massive kaslina phase after seeing them live i can't even blame anyone 🥸
↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 3h
hi there, oscar fan, so what exactly is going on with lukas (?) and lina?
↳ emme @flowersforcami · 3h
absolutely nothing, they grew up as neighbours who just have pretty spectacular tension on stage but this is them irl: youtube.com/watch?v=....
INSTAGRAM
oscarpiastri
liked by selinabui and 76,295 others
oscarpiastri Post qualifying, pretty happy with the effort 💪
emptybottlesbar 🔥🔥🔥
↳ oliviafufu @emptybottlesbar admin are you doing ok there?
landonorris P6 verrrry nice
↳ oscarpiastri @ landonorris P4 verrrrrrry nice :)
izzy.piastri LET'S GAURRRRRR
amelia_belrose he's on the exact opposite side of the spectrum dfjnskjd i can't believe we're getting calm bf x hyper gf
amelia_belrose mr piastri, just curiously, what exactly do you see in our lina?
pastry81 oscar went ok hard launch over, back to regularly scheduled content (papaya)
selinabui
liked by zhouguanyu24 and 98,834 others
selinabui *sigh* kick sauber green 💚
pi4str1 SHE'S SO DEEPLY UNSERIOUS THE PAPAYA #1 VAN 😭😭😭
↳ pastry81 @pi4str1 i love her so much she's just soooooo
zhouguanyu24 🤨
↳ selinabui @ zhouguanyu24 爱你爱你 🫂🫂
landonorris Love where your loyalties lie #teampapaya
stakef1team We'll take it 💚💚💚
lukaszhang YO WHO'S DOG IS THAT???
courtneysong16 convinced she saw a random orange van and said “wait let me serve first”
emptybottlesbar
liked by cameliazzz and 108,274 others
emptybottlesbar The two people currently breaking the internet (who look pretty proud of themselves)
tagged: selinabui, oscarpiastri, emptybottles_official and mclaren
eb_jonno WHICH ADMIN IS THIS, LET ME SEND YOU FLOWERS OR SMTH
lukaszhang not the 'held at gunpoint' reaction pic AHAHA
cameliazzz admin... sara is that you???
aidan_ebass 👍
↳ selinabui @aidan_ebass you remembered your login???
↳ lottie2418 @aidan_ebass omg grandpa hi hi
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:
taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit
#f1#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x oc#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri smau#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 smau#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 imagine#f1 social media au
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okay i don’t know if u still talk about this series but i LOVED harry & bels story it was so beautifully written that i stopped writing my dissertation to finish it today!!! how do u they bel & h would be in 2024?? 🫶🏻🫶🏻
sweet angel! thank you so much for reading 💜 hope the dissertation is going well. I loved writing for harry and bel so here is an update for you.
word count: 1,383
love on tour
+
Y/N loved weddings.
She loved the joy it brought the couple and everyone in their life. She loved seeing pieces of the couple scattered around as she tried her best to piece their story together. Y/N loved the cake, the food, and the open bar, where she loved to drink as many Shirley Temples as she liked until she gave herself a toothache. There was so much love in the air that Y/N always wanted to step back to see how happy everyone was to be there. The dance floor is where Y/N liked to be most of the night dancing from partner to partner.
The wedding of Naomi Hart and Sarai Barrera is something Y/N had waited ages for after the engagement last year when on vacation in Italy with Y/N and Harry. It was a week-long celebration for her best friends, seeing as Y/N and Harry didn’t see them after the organized engagement party at Harry’s home, where their family gathered.
While the ceremony today had been beautiful, Y/N could not stop crying. She delivered her speech and said everything correctly with no tear in sight, but after she pronounced them married, Naomi and Sarai shared a beautiful kiss, and the waterworks began. Harry pulled her to the side, squeezing her tight as she let her tears drip down her face, knowing she’d steal a moment to fix her makeup, although she knew it wouldn’t budge. Ailany, her makeup artist and close friend, promised a bucket of water would not move her makeup.
Y/N was finally done with pictures and ready for a cold beverage. Still, because brides were busy, she was given a list of miscellaneous tasks that Y/N happily passed on to Naomi’s brother, who was excited to have something to do running away from any more photos. Y/N and Harry grabbed photos together. She knew they would be going up around their house in London. Harry had plastered his favorite pictures of them, from one hanging in the kitchen to a few scattered in the hallway next to the art pieces both had acquired through the years. Three were placed on the mantle, and each had their respective picture on the nightstand at the side of their bed. Their love is scattered throughout the house, easily seen by anyone who visits them.
She was running away from the large greenhouse and into the venue before someone could stop her. Y/N would also be keeping an eye out for her boyfriend. She needed a kiss to make it through the next hour. As Y/N turned the corner, she almost bumped into someone, but she quickly stepped away, noting the person had drinks in their hand. The familiar vanilla smell filled the air around her, and Y/N instantly settled.
Harry.
She had found Harry.
“Bel, you alright?”
Y/N nods, “Need a drink.”
Harry grins at her, raising one of the glasses in his hand. “Fancy a water?”
Y/N shoots him a bright smile. “Did you know I love you, Harry Styles? Because I do. So much.”
His cheeks turn pink, “it doesn’t hurt to hear from time to time, my love.”
She takes a long drink of water, sighing in relief. They happened to get married on the hottest day in California. Winter was like no other here, but today felt like the start of Spring. Harry slipped his hand into Y/N’s and began to walk with her. Y/N didn’t question where he was taking her. She was happy to steal a moment away with him.
Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, the comfort of being with her person enough to soothe her.
Harry had led them to a dead-end that faced the ocean, the windows long and tall, allowing her to view every inch of the outside. He carefully helped her sit on the bench to smooth her dress.
“Alright, amor?”
“Perfect.”
They settled close to each other, Harry resting his hand on Y/N’s lap as she once again leaned her head on his shoulder. It’s a beautiful day, and Harry can’t help but think that one day, it will be Y/N’s and his turn to marry. They both want it, and he has the perfect ring for when the time is right.
“Back to filming soon?”
Y/N sighs, “Let’s not, estrella.”
“You’re going to leave me.”
Harry knows she loves her job, but after the time they’ve spent at home together, he selfishly wants her to stay with him as he enjoys his break and begins the process for his next album.
“I love you, Harry. You promised to come with me for a week or so.”
He had agreed. Of course, he would be going, but there was something special about simply being Harry and Y/N inside the comfort of their home.
“I will. You have the last of the award season soon.”
Y/N frowns, “I was invited, but my films are releasing this year since everything was pushed back.”
“But Lily Gladstone, my love.”
Y/N laughed. “She’s going to win. We’ll send her a bouquet of flowers.”
“I will be attending the Brits,” Harry reminds her.
“Will I be your date?”
“If you’re free?” He teases, knowing very well she has this date saved in her schedule.
“Dork.”
The silence floats around them, and Y/N knows they must head back soon but makes no move to stand up. Instead enjoys the quiet of being with Harry.
“Y/N?” Harry voiced after five minutes.
“Hmm…”
“What do you picture your future like in a few years?”
She detects the tremble in his voice and moves her body to face him. Her hands snaked up his suit, and her fingers briefly played with the lace collar before settling on his cheeks. Y/N loves Harry. He’s never afraid to speak his mind, but sometimes he even overwhelms himself.
“Well,” she starts. “Our future is us living in London. It’s a place we love, and I don’t picture us living elsewhere unless you magically convince me to live in Italy, which I would never oppose. We’ll have two dogs because you promised we’d get one this year,” she reminds him.
“We’ll make it happen,” he promises.
“In a few years, I hope we’ll be married. You’ll be touring, and I’ll be your groupie, having quit acting.”
“Y/N,” he deadpans.
“Kidding,” Y/N giggles. “I hope to have directed a few films, one I love with a cast and crew who support me every single step of the way. I want to continue to create a safe environment and continue to pave a path for Latinas. But mostly, I hope we’re happy. We continue to encourage our dreams and hold each other’s hand when things get tough. I hope to love you for as long as I breathe. How does that sound?”
Harry’s eyes shine with tears. He gives her a single nod. “It’s perfect. Everything I want.”
He closes the gap, needing to kiss Y/N. Needing to express that he wants everything she stated. He feels the world pause around them, and he knows at this moment there is no one else in the world who could ever come close to making him feel as loved and cared for as Y/N makes him. Soulmate is a big word, but he knows it’s the one for them deep down.
Y/N giggles against his lips, “You love me?”
“Te amo,” he responds.
“I love you.” That is Y/N’s answer.
Harry pulls her in for another kiss, full of passion and familiarity. So much is being said at the moment, and Y/N knows they won’t ever forget it.
Y/N loved Harry. She knew he was her person. The person she was meant to spend the rest of her life with knew he felt the same.
2024 so far had brought them lots of joy, and with Harry’s birthday coming up, she knew it would only get better. Ultimately, Y/N had no idea what 2024 had in store for them, but as long as she kept loving Harry and he loved her, she knew everything would be alright.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles x y/n#harry and bel#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles series#harry styles fic rec
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Chapter 2: I didn't have it in myself to go with grace
series masterlist
previous part || next part
pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader
WC: 2.0k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, negative self-talk (Colin bby🥺🤏), a small part of the dialogue is in French
Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?
April 16, 1816 – And of course, one cannot forget to mention Lady Y/N Montclair, who looked like a vision in her emerald dress at the Danbury Ball last night. Her presence seemed to cast a spell over the gentlemen in attendance, and they were practically lining up to engage her in conversation. It was a sight to behold, watching them swoon over her. However, one can hardly blame them, given how effortlessly graceful she was. It appears Lady Montclair will have more than enough gentlemen to choose from this season…
Eloise scoffed and rolled her eyes, the newest Whistledown in hand as she sat on a couch in the tearoom. “My word, if she hadn’t been in Tuscany last season I would think Lady Montclair herself was Lady Whistledown! She’s only been here two days and she’s already been mentioned more than most of the ton.”
Benedict chuckled from his seat across the room, shooting a look at a disgruntled-looking Colin who was trying very hard to make it seem like he wasn’t listening to Eloise reading Whistledown’s account of the ball.
“I’d wager that Colin is Whistledown, actually. I’m convinced after today’s column,” Benedict said teasingly, taking a bite out of an apple as he analyzed the sketch in front of him.
“First of all, I don’t even write like Whistledown, which you would know if you read the letters I sent while I was in Greece,” Colin shot back, irritated. “And second, even if I were, I certainly would not have spent two full pages talking about Lady Montclair. I’m sure I have no idea why Whistledown thought she warranted such a large portion of the column today.”
The words felt bitter and unpleasant in his mouth, and he regretted them instantly. He knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn’t help his defensive tone after last night. Eloise, catching onto Colin’s tone, cocked her head toward Benedict and raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“She didn’t want to dance with him,” explained Benedict, sounding highly amused about what was one of the more embarrassing things to happen to Colin.
Eloise burst out laughing. “No! A woman who didn’t want to dance with Colin? Something must be incredibly wrong in the world! How could she have said no to London’s golden boy? And on his first day back! Shall we call for a medic?”
Colin felt the blood rushing to his face and his cheeks warming, not particularly pleased to have to deal with his sister's teasing today. He knew he was being ridiculous, that much was clear. You were only one person who hadn’t wanted to dance with him. But you had just looked so beautiful, and the way your eyes had lit up when you laughed with your brother was so enchanting, that he fashioned himself half in love with you already.
It was slightly gut-wrenching to know you didn't feel the same way. He must have done something, Colin reasoned. No one had ever not liked Colin simply because of who he was, and he was more than a little concerned that you seemed to be the first.
Eloise had been joking, of course, when she called Colin London’s golden boy. But it wasn’t as much of a joke as he would have liked. Anthony was a viscount, and Benedict was a successful artist with a painting in the national gallery, but what did he have to offer? He was just aimlessly traveling the world, documenting his travels in a journal no one would ever read. His own family didn’t even read his letters, for Christ’s sake. He was a third son with no talents, and the only thing he could do was lean into his charm and good nature and hope that people liked him anyway. And he had been relatively successful thus far. Except for with you, it seemed.
Noting Colin’s uncharacteristic grim mood, Eloise briefly panicked, wondering if she had gone too far. With a far softer tone, she added, “Maybe her dance card was full, Colin. It doesn’t mean she didn’t want to dance.”
But Colin shook his head, placing his chin on his hand. “I highly doubt it.”
He knew better than to assume the best. He was remarkably skilled at reading people, but even without that, it had not been difficult to tell that you were full of contempt. For him or someone else, he couldn’t be completely sure, but the way you had been laughing and smiling with everyone except for him was a particularly useful hint.
Before he could dwell further, Violet entered the tearoom. “We’ll be going to Hyde Park to promenade today, darlings.” It was far easier to coerce her children into doing her bidding when she didn’t give them a choice.
Ignoring their grumbling, she left the room, calling out over her shoulder, “Be ready in one hour!”
---
Colin had barely been at the park five minutes before he spotted you, and he drew in a sharp breath. God, it was infuriating. You were wearing a cream-colored dress, chatting pleasantly with your mother, and he wanted to scream. Of course, you looked completely breathtaking. It was exactly what he needed when he was already nervous about approaching you.
During the carriage ride, he had decided to try to speak to you again. To be your friend, at the very least. Perhaps you did not want him as a suitor, but the thought of someone in the ton actively disliking him was nauseating.
So, he steeled himself, staring longingly at you. Now was as good a time as any because, for some miraculous reason, there seemed to be no men hounding you at the moment. You had separated yourself from your family slightly, silently observing who he could only assume was one of your older sisters and her husband.
He made his way over to you, hands fidgeting behind his back nervously. Swallowing down his fear, he cleared his throat as he approached you, a soft smile on his face.
“Lady Montclair, it’s lovely to see you here today. I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot at the ball last night, and I wanted to offer an apology.” Your face was completely blank, not giving anything away, and Colin found himself a tad more nervous than he was when he first walked up to you. “Perhaps we could promenade?” he finished weakly.
An apology? What on earth was Colin Bridgerton on about? There was no way he’d seen you in the hallway, right?
“An apology, Mr. Bridgerton? Whatever for?” you asked carefully, not giving anything away.
Colin cleared his throat awkwardly. He wasn’t quite sure himself, to be honest. “Well, I’m afraid I might have offended you by asking to dance so suddenly. It might have been a bit brash to ask for a dance without a proper introduction first.”
You almost sagged in relief. Your reputation was safe. Though now you seemed irrationally angry, despising Colin for no apparent reason. However, it wasn’t in your nature to make nice with someone who viewed women simply as breeding stock.
Curtly, you responded, “I can assure you, Mr. Bridgerton, that that did not offend me. Had we been properly introduced, my answer would have been the same.”
“Oh,” he said softly.
You stared at him blankly, with no hint of warmth in your gaze. Sensing your hostility, he promptly turned away from you, returning to his family. Anger burned in his chest. What the hell was your problem with him? He’d barely spoken two words to you, and you had acted like he had offended your entire bloodline.
When his anger subsided, Colin had a sobering thought. For the first time in his charmed life, someone simply did not care for him. And the worst part? He hadn’t even caused it. Colin, who prided himself on his charm and wit, found himself in the position of being disliked without cause.
He suddenly felt very inadequate. It was a foreign feeling, and it settled quite uncomfortably in his chest. If you were determined to hate him, so be it. But to hate him without reason? That, Colin could not agree to.
If you insisted on casting him as the villain in your narrative, then he would play the role with ease. If you wanted a reason to dislike him, then a reason you would have.
You stared after Colin, eyes narrowed. His ability to act like a complete gentleman would have been impressive if it wasn’t so disturbing.
“Ma grande,” your mother called, coming to your side (My dear). “Did I just see you being rude to Colin Bridgerton? He left fairly quickly,” she scolded gently.
“Non, maman. Ne t'inquiète pas,” you assured (No, Mom. Don’t worry). Upon seeing her unimpressed look, you switched to English. “It was just a misunderstanding.”
“Well, you don’t seem to like him very much,” she observed.
You let out a nervous laugh, waving her comment away. “I don’t know him well enough to dislike him, maman!”
You needed something to distract her from this line of questioning. Your mother knew you well enough to tell when you were lying, and she would be positively furious if she uncovered the real reason why you despised Mr. Bridgerton.
Fortunately, a distraction arrived by the name of Lord Arthur Barlow.
“Lord Barlow,” your mother called out excitedly. “Allow me the pleasure of introducing my daughter, Y/N Montclair.”
“Lady Montclair,” he smiled warmly, stretching his hand out to you. “A name as lovely as its bearer, I daresay.”
“Lord Barlow,” you answered shyly, placing your hand in his. You felt your cheeks heating up as he kissed the back of your hand, and you were taken aback. This entirely charming man had disarmed you completely in a matter of seconds.
"Lord Barlow, the Duke of Monmouth," your mother announced with a flourish, her eyes bright with approval at the budding acquaintance. "Shall we take a turn about the park? I would be delighted to chaperone."
Subtlety was not her specialty. Or perhaps not her priority. Though you couldn’t really be upset with her, given how good-looking the Duke was. He nodded graciously at your mother and placed your hand at the crook of his elbow, smiling down at you as you began to stroll.
You were so enthralled you barely registered him speaking. “I hear you’ve got a knack for languages, Lady Montclair,” he remarked, prompting your attention.
“Yes, your Grace. I speak five languages, and read Sanskrit,” you answered dutifully. Such accomplishments were no small feat in the circles of the ton, and you knew it put you at an advantage in the marriage mart.
“Most impressive, indeed,” he answered, his gaze thoughtful. “My brother’s wife is from Prussia, and I’m sure she would love a chance to speak in her native tongue.”
The Duke's boldness caught you off guard, the suggestion of speaking with his sister-in-law a surprising turn. "Oh," you murmured, slightly taken aback by his directness.
“And what else do you like to do?” asked Lord Barlow, smoothly transitioning the conversation.
A well-prepared response rolled off your tongue, a practiced smile gracing your lips. “I am well-versed in needlepoint, and enjoy playing the pianoforte,” you smiled. It was what was expected of a young woman of your stature, after all.
Lord Barlow nodded appreciatively, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “And how do you find England? I’m certain you’re missing the Tuscan sun,” he said, pushing the conversation to lighter topics.
The Duke's engaging manner, paired with the approval of your mother, had utterly charmed you. Engaged by his charisma and easy conversation, you found yourself giggling during your conversation, utterly captivated.
Unbeknownst to you, Colin Bridgerton observed
from afar, his gaze sharp with a mixture of irritation and something deeper brewing beneath the surface. Each laugh, each shared glance between you and the Duke, stoked the flames of his simmering displeasure.
—
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Rewatching Favourite Scenes:-
The Crown 2x04 – Margaret Shoots Down Her Fiancé
Princess Margaret and socialite Billy Wallace were once unofficially engaged for a few months, as was confirmed during an interview with Australian Women’s Weekly.
The real Margaret did indeed dump Billy – hopefully with a speech as scathing as the one in The Crown – after he confessed to his ‘meaningless fling’ with another woman.
The Crown’s version of events may give the Princess even more justice. In the show, Billy ends up shot in the leg after a drunken duel with Margaret’s friend Colin Tennant. Arrogant Billy then continues to boast about his conquests, and being a catch for “every good-looking girl on Earth” due to his royal connections.
There's no proof of a duel in real life, although it fires up the drama. However, the real Margaret was said to be furious with Billy, finding other ways to get revenge. Reportedly, she cut her ex-fiancé out of her royal circle and didn't speak to him for at least three years.
In time, the Princess went so far as to use Billy’s London home to hide her clandestine (and passionate) encounters with new love, Tony Armstrong-Jones, whom she later married. Well aimed, Margaret!
*THE CROWN S6 PT I premieres on Netflix: Thurs 16th Nov 2023
#the crown#favourite scenes#vanessa kirby#princess margaret#tom durant pritchard#billy wallace#season 2#2x04#gifs#articles
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The DM's Excerpts - Charles III: New King, New Court
Robert Hardman (who also wrote Queen of Our Times, published 2022) has written a new book about the British Royal Family. The Daily Mail is serializing parts of the book over four days, from 12 - 15 January 2024. Here are the links. If anyone has any others, feel free to share them in the comments.
If you don't want to give the DM clicks, I've included highlights below. (My browser doesn't recognize archive.vn or archive.ph as a valid domain so I can't create or access those links.)
TL;DR--
The day the Queen died, 12 Jan 2024
Secret summits over making Charles regent in Queen's last years, 13 Jan 2024
How the royals have dealt with a torrent of allegations from Harry and Meghan, 14 Jan 2024
Harmdan's intimate portrait of a woman who dances at Abba concerts, jabs the King with her handbag and 'knows when to wink at a bishop,' 15 Jan 2024
Excerpt #1, 12 Jan 2024
Highlights:
The last time most of her staff saw The Queen was at the pre-dinner cocktails the evening of September 6th. She was happy, chatty, and in a good mood. (September 6th was the Boris Johnson-Liz Truss transition.)
It was sheer luck that Anne and Peter were at Balmoral during this time. Anne was passing through for work, Peter was preparing for a shooting party he was going to host over the weekend (which ended up cancelled). Also Sarah Chatto was nearby.
On September 7th, The Queen planned to attend the Privy Council meeting as it involved new Cabinet officials being installed. She eventually cancelled on medical advice. This was the first signal to many that she wasn't doing well.
Charles and Camilla were on the western side of Scotland for a series of engagements September 7 - September 8. The morning of September 8, Anne called Charles to come to Balmoral at once. On the helicopter to Balmoral, everyone was reviewing the Operation London Bridge papers. They arrived at Birkhall around 10:30am and traveled to Balmoral in a borrowed car.
William was called around breakfast time and informed of the situation, including that was on his way to Balmoral. Charles himself called William (and Andrew, Edward, and Harry) that they should also come. After Charles's calls, Kensington Palace began coordinating with Royal Lodge (Andrew's office*) and Bagshot Park (Edward's office*) on travel to Scotland. William and KP did not reach out to the Sussexes because betrayal, and they felt the responsibility should have been on the Sussexes to make contact. (*Not really their offices, but it's the easiest way to keep them separate so you know who I'm talking about.)
Everyone was disturbed by Harry's inclusion of these events, especially the "Meghan's not coming/she's my wife/Kate's not coming either/that's all you had to say" bit, in his memoir. Harry's recollection of how he was notified of The Queen's death isn't true - he claims no one was talking to him but actually Charles and the palace had been trying to reach him repeatedly. The calls weren't going through because he was in the air. (Interesting that he'd check the BBC first as opposed to calling back after seeing a dozen of missed calls...or not springing for the wifi package...)
Liz Truss, the new PM, was in a G7 conference call on September 8th when she was notified of the situation in Scotland. She bowed out of the call early and quickly. The G7 leaders knew what was happening.
Charles was rather close to Balmoral when he received the call that The Queen had passed. William, Andrew, Edward, and Sophie were on the way to Balmoral from the Aberdeen airport. Charles called them himself to let them know.
The Archbishop of Canterbury was in France on a personal holiday. He and his wife began preparing to return home after seeing the palace's first statement about The Queen's health. They drove home overnight so Welby could make an address in the morning.
Excerpt #2, 13 Jan 2024
Highlights:
The Queen had been quite ill in her final year. She knew and was aware her time was ending that summer.
A regency would have been created had she lived as long as The Queen Mother because everyone was fearful of a health condition flaring up in public.
Planning for Charles's accession and coronation began in 2015. Sir Alderton, his private secretary, created a "training video" of the accession/transition then that Charles, Camilla, and William watched in the evening of September 8th during their private dinner at Birkhall, while Princess Anne hosted the rest of the family at Balmoral. If Harry wasn't such a dick (my word, not Hardman's), he'd have been part of the Birkhall dinner but he wasn't and there were very serious concerns he would write about it in Spare.
The announcement of The Queen's death was delayed because family members hadn't been informed yet. (I think it was Harry they were waiting on, per the events in the first article.)
The royals were very touched by the outpouring of public affection for The Queen, themselves, and their family. Camilla was struck by how supportive the crowd was of her. Anne was touched by the tractors, horses, and the crowds that lined the roads in Scotland. It was a six hour drive, and she and Tim had had snacks in their car but they both felt it would have been rude to everyone that came to see the procession and pay their respects to be seen eating.
Camilla sobbed through Charles's first speech.
The Privy Council were concerned that the political upheaval in the government would cause problems for the accession, transition, and royal mourning.
It was William's idea for him, Kate, and the Sussexes to do the Windsor walkabout together. He organized it in two hours. No one found it easy or enjoyable.
Excerpt #3, 14 Jan 2024
Highlights:
The Queen felt she had to say 'yes' when Harry contacted her about naming his daughter Lilibet and she was very angry with him for it. (Reading between the lines, it sounds like the decision was presented by the Sussexes as "fait accompli" and The Queen took offense.)
The Sussexes tried to force the palace to go along with their version (that they had asked The Queen for permission) but the palace refused to play. They also tried to intimidate the press with legal action if anyone didn't report "their" version of events, even going so far as threatening the BBC with a lawsuit.
Everyone at the palace rolled their eyes about the Sussexes getting the RFK "Ripple of Hope Award." They felt that the "legacy" the Sussexes were being rewarded for was laughable, especially when compared to Charles's work.
The Caribbean gets its news through the US media. (I believe this confirms the theory that Sussex PR influenced the Caribbean's coverage of the Royal Family)
William saw Harry's comments in the Netflix documentary that they're expected to marry someone who fits the mold as an attack on Kate and he's been furious since. He feels betrayed by Harry having discussed their relationship so freely, thinks it's an intrusion of privacy.
Neither William nor Kate have read Spare but they are aware of what's being said and their staffs have briefed them.
Harry's version of events when The Queen Mother died is totally made up. (In Spare, Harry says he was alone, it was springtime just before Easter, and he took the call himself, but actually he was in Switzerland skiing with Charles and William and all three were told together by an aide.)
It's very suspicious that Spare largely skips May 2018 - March 2020. The palace thinks it'll be covered in the second version or Meghan's memoir.
The door is open for Harry and Meghan to return but they'll have to make the first steps since Charles has given up.
Anne's seat the coronation in front of Harry was a last-minute change so she could leave more quickly after the service in the procssion. She was concerned about keeping her hat on since it was "decent-sized" but she was told to keep it on.
Excerpt #4, 15 Jan 2024 - TBD
Highlights
It's been a difficult transition to Queen for Camilla, but everyone believes she handled it well. Her family finds it surreal.
Camilla doesn't mind being second fiddle to Charles.
She still has her Wiltshire home, Ray Mill, which she bought after divorcing Andrew PB. She still visits and stays there to this day.
Everyone walks a bit on eggshells around Charles because he's a bit temperamental, but Camilla steadies him.
Camilla likes her rooms hot. Charles like his rooms cold and windows open.
Charles skips lunch. Camilla does not.
Camilla keeps Charles running on time when he gets chatty.
Camilla is hands-on with her charities and patronage.
I find her sister is overstaying her welcome. After her starring role in the coronation documentary and now her interviews with Hardman for the book, it's too much and feels like she's trying too hard.
Other stories by Hardman from his book:
Foreign Office officials 'ditched buses for dignitaries' at coronation after backlash at the Queen's funeral, 13 Jan 2024
Brigadier who helped carry Queen's coffin was at a wedding in Corfu, 13 Jan 2024
Queen's funeral rehearsal was a comedy of errors as even the band went AWOL, 13 Jan 2024
Prince Andrew could be 'far more damaging outside the loop,' 14 Jan 2024
The DM's other royal reporters - Martin Robinson, Rebecca English, Natasha Livingstone - are publishing "recaps" of Hardman's excerpts. Some of Rebecca English's stories are augmented by her own sources. Here are a few:
Insiders revewal how the Queen was so upset by Harry and Meghan's Lilibet decision that she told aides 'the only thing I own is my name. And now they've taken that': The royal row taht troubled Her Majesty in twilight of her reign, 15 Jan 2024
'For William, this was the lwoest of the low,' 15 Jan 2024
Camilla was given the affection nickname 'Lorraine' before seh became Queen, 14 Jan 2024
Harry and Meghan likely caused Queen 'distress' in her final years over naming of baby Lilibet, 15 Jan 2024
The Queen's final years were overshadowed by Harry and Meghan's hunger for publicity, 15 Jan 2024
Also, these are reminding me of some things Harry and Meghan (Harry mostly) have claimed and Hardman's articles are debunking them. I need to do a bit of research to check if the dates on what I'm remembering line up with the timeline Hardman is presenting. I'll do a separate post on that since this is already quite long.
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i would love a max wants to propose snippet plzzz
i've posted this before ages ago, hope it holds up ;)
--
“So, are you going to spend the entire evening on your phone?” Victoria asks, as she sits down on the couch next to him, causing him to reflexively put down his phone –face down.
It’s not really fair of her to tease him like this, not when he literally hasn’t been on his phone all night and only picked it up when she got up to dump their takeout containers in the trashcan of the apartment Max only ever stays in when he has to be in Milton Keynes for more than a day or two in one go. It’s not that he minds hotels and that the apartment feels much different than one with as little time as he spends there, but still. He already lives in hotels half the year it feels like, it’s nice to have a place that he can at least call home even if it’s not. Plus, Victoria likes to use it when she makes a weekend trip to London. Although that has gotten less too, with the two kids and all. Which-
“Have you called him yet?” he asks in counter to her little jab, causing her to roll her eyes.
“These kind of news are best delivered in person.” Gently she places a hand on her stomach, soft smile on her lips, despite the challenging glint in her eyes.
He’s the first person to know, this time, and only because it’s his bathroom she took the test in and Max still feels a little crazy about it all –his little sister being pregnant with her third baby. Only him and her knowing –the only two people in the world. It makes him feel like he’s eight years old again, the both of them whispering secrets to each other under the covers of his bed, trying to block out their parents’ yelling.
No one’s yelling now, and Max isn’t scared. He’s just happy for her. Her and her little family.
It’s not what gave him the idea –he’s been toying with it for a while, if he’s being honest- but it’s what had spurred him to finally typing the words into the search bar, fingertips a little bit sweaty.
“Max?” Victoria says, head tilted slightly. “Where’s your head?”
He snorts. “Right here.”
“Mhm.” She looks at him skeptically, then after a moment, giving him a slight nudge she asks: “Everything good with Daniel?”
Flushing a little, Max nods, his phone feeling hot in his hands. “Uh, yeah. He’s in Surrey today, but he said he’d be here tomorrow. Or maybe tonight, depending how quickly they finish up.”
“Is that why you’ve been glued to your phone?” Victoria asks, teasing tone back in her voice. “Because you’re waiting for him to tell you that he’s on his way?”
“No.”
Max rolls his eyes, for good measure. It’s maybe only half true, because Max is definitely looking forward to Daniel and him being in the same place again, but it’s not what he’s been doing on his phone, which- He shoots her a glance ,hesitant for a moment, before he realizes how fucking stupid that is because it’s Victoria. His little sister. She’s probably the person he’s closest to, right up there with Daniel and his mom. And it’s not like he can tell Daniel about this just yet.
“I’ve been, uhm.” He clears his throat, unlocking his phone again so he can thumb open the website he’s been scrolling through before she interrupted him. “Looking at stuff. At –these.”
He holds out his phone to her.
She takes it, eyes already wide.
“Max…” she says, softly after barely a moment. “You’re going to-”
“Yes,” he says, and fuck, what a terrifying thing to admit, despite the wave of excitement that surges up inside of him at the thought. It’s crest is made of fear. That Daniel will say no. That he’ll say yes, and Max won’t be good enough for him to not regret it. That it’s a stupid, little fantasy, nothing more, and most of all that-
“-I’ll have to tell dad. About me and Daniel,” he says, as Victoria scrolls down the website, looking at the quite limited number of engagement rings made for men, and the endless selection for women. “I know that. If we get married then- Yeah. And I know that dad isn’t going to like it, but I want-” He exhales, gesturing to his phone. “-that. I want to ask him. And I want him to say yes, and I don’t know. Be fucking married to him.”
He thinks about Daniel wearing a ring on his finger, a ring that Max put there and not just as an expensive gift but as a promise, a vow. He thinks about having a paper signed by the both of them putting a name to what they have that they don’t need but Max wants anyway. He thinks about waking up every morning knowing that Daniel married him. That he looked at Max and just fucking picked him. Chose him. Is choosing him. Every day for the rest of their lives. Or life. Together.
And Max knows, he knows that he doesn’t need a marriage certificate to trust that Daniel is committed to him and it’s not even about that really, knows that his issues, his worries and doubts, they’ll always be there for Max to work on, but he wants it anyway.
He wants to be Daniel’s and for Daniel to be his.
“Max, I think that’s wonderful,” Victoria says, eyes shiny. “Really, really wonderful. Shit.”
Pulling him into a hug, she squeezes him tightly.
“He’s going to say yes, I know it, I just know it,” she says, a she holds her back just as tightly, before letting go. “And dad, he’ll just have to deal. It’ll be fine. It’ll be- Fuck. We need to find a proper ring. Shit. We should go to London tomorrow, go to some actual stores instead of-” She waves dismissively at his phone.
“Daniel’s coming here tomorrow though,” Max reminds her. Or tonight. If I’m lucky, tonight.
“Well, he’ll just have to entertain himself then,” Victoria says, unbothered, a gleeful look on her face. “Fuck. I’m going to have another baby, and you’ll be getting married. And win another world championship. This is going to be our year, Max. You hear me? Our year.”
“Hey. Don’t jinx me. Don’t jinx us,” he says, cheeks flushed, just as his phone buzzes with an incoming text.
It’s from Daniel.
finishing up now! See you in two hours [kiss emoji]
Max can’t help but smile.
hurry is all he texts back.
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Something Old: Part Five
word count: 20k (omfg); story page
warnings: smut smut smut
---
“No - mum - you’ve gotta tilt the - I can’t see - can you get Archie to help you?”
“Oi, I’m not a bloody senior citizen, I can handle a bit of tech.”
“Okay, but the way you’ve got the camera angled, I’m looking up your nostrils right now.” you say, watching as she tries to angle the camera differently, only making your view worse.
“Oh bugger it all…” she mutters before shouting: “Archie!!!” almost right into the microphone, making you cringe.
“Right in my ear, mum.”
“Sorry, love.” she says, before bringing the phone closer to her face, bringing you impossibly closer to her nose hairs. “You alright, bug? Looking a bit peaky.”
“Yeah, you look like shit.” Archie says as he snatches your mum’s phone out of her hand, making a face at you on the screen.
“Hello to you too, dickhead.” you shoot back.
“Language!!” your mum clucks.
“Mum, he literally started it.” you say as Archie snickers on the other end, flipping you off, before passing the phone back to your mum with a “it’s this button here”, and then suddenly you’re staring at her new garden, fresh azaleas that she and Anne planted fully in bloom.
“Oh, it looks great!”
“Changing the subject, I see,” she muses, before stage whispering, “Don’t worry, I won’t mention the H word.”
“Mummmm,” you groan, Archie’s laugh echoing as he heads back into the house. “I’m fine, honestly. Just haven’t been sleeping well, been a weird few days.”
“Yeah, gotta be a tough month, huh?” she says, quickly speaking over you when she sees you open your mouth. “I know, I know, we’re not talking about it. Let’s check out these pansies…”
Right. That. It had been one month since you last saw Harry. One month since you last spoke to him, since he last held your hand, since he last kissed you, since he last pressed you into the mattress…okay, best not think about that when you’re on the phone with your mum.
It’s been an adjustment, to say the least. Once you touched back down in London, you realized you had no plan for what you were going to tell the people in your life about what went down. The ones who knew you and Harry, the ones who were at the wedding, the ones who would have about 18 billion questions for you. Like your mum who was about to have your head if you didn’t give her some sort of update. Or your schoolmates from home, who were blowing up the group chat with their 8th conspiracy theory about what really went down by now. Or your roommate Roxy, who knew you like the back of her hand, and was the first to steer you towards the bar the first night you met Erin and was the one who held you while you cried when they announced their engagement. You trusted her with your life, but could you trust her with Harry’s?
To even question that made you ill. You had been so caught up in your Italian lovenest that you hadn’t taken any time to think about the reality you were coming back to. A wedding was supposed to happen but didn’t because of you. No matter how many times Harry tried to take the blame, you know your confession was the catalyst, the impetus for him calling it off. And now you had to face the consequences alone. Did you pretend you knew just about as much as everyone else, which you’re hoping is not much? Lie to the people you’re closest to? For two months?! That sounded insane but you also knew you couldn’t go around telling everyone the whole truth. Jesus Christ.
You hid in your room for a day or two, slowly digging your way out of the hole you found yourself in, taking it one step at a time, wishing you could talk this over with him, but knowing you couldn’t. You decided to operate on a strict need to know basis, which means your mates from out were out. You left the group chat alone, there were enough messages in there that maybe they won’t realize you never responded and it’d be far too suspicious to join the conversation now. Johnny definitely knew something was up, he had sent you a separate but simple “hope he went and got you x” that made your head spin a bit, as you realized he’s probably known something was up for years but you could deal with that later.
You called your mum to assure her you were alright, back safe in your flat, that you would come home to visit soon and explain everything when you could. She was not satisfied with that answer, you could practically feel her rolling her eyes at you through the phone, but she let you off the hook, this time. And, now that you think about it, you couldn’t go home because that would mean seeing Anne and who knows what she knows and what you could tell her and what Harry doesn’t want her to know quite yet -
Okay. No. You couldn’t live like this.
You had still been ruminating on what to do about Roxy as you snuck out to grab a glass of water, wondering how to approach this. You needed someone to talk to, you couldn’t just keep this all bottled up on your own and this was one of your best friends, and your newer, closer proximity to Harry wasn’t going to change that.
“Okay I let you have one day to mope but you had about two hours before I was going to stage an intervention.”
The sound of her voice made you jump in the air, so caught in your head you didn’t even hear her approach.
“Jesus Christ, Rox. Scared the shit out of me.” you said, turning to face her.
“I’m serious, babe. You’ve been like a little recluse.” she said, propping herself up to sit on the counter. “How bad was it? Didn’t hear from you all weekend and you haven’t left your room…so I’m assuming, pretty bad.”
Moment of truth. You could lie and pretend for the next two months or you could tell the truth. Have someone to confide in. She had been on this journey with you for years and she would absolutely kill you if she learned you were hiding this from her.
“Um. Actually. He didn’t get married.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I’m serious.”
“Is it because…” her eyes searched your face, widening when she realized. “Holy shit. Did you? Oh my god - I’m actually going to cry. Did you tell him?”
You nod.
“That’s my girl!!” she screamed before tackling you to the ground, the two of you cracking up the whole way as she demanded details.
After you swore her to secrecy, to which she scoffed “Mildly insulted you even had to ask, babe.” you told her everything. From the confession in the courtyard, to him asking you to leave with him, to a first date in Italy, to where you are now, on pause. It feels insane to say it all out loud, in disbelief that this is your life, that that whirlwind 72 hours actually happened.
“You’re going to make me believe in love again.” Roxy said, still laying on the kitchen floor with you.
“Shut up.” you said, rolling your eyes, unable to stop the blush on your cheeks.
“I’m serious. So happy for you. And proud of you. ” she said, reaching out her hand for you to hold on to. “I know this next bit is gonna be rough, but you got through all that shit to get here. And you got me. Yeah?”
So you thought, yeah, okay, maybe you could do this. You threw yourself into work and catching up with friends, doing anything you could to distract yourself, ignoring headlines and social media at all cost. Some weeks were easier than others, with Roxy always there to drag you out with your friends when you were getting too overwhelmed by it all.
You went home, which was awkward at first, until you assured your family that everything was good but complicated, that you were figuring things out and it would be easier not to talk about it. To which your parents reluctantly agreed, both looking chuffed and a bit red around the eyes as they squeezed you a little tighter. Archie tried his luck later at the pub when it was just the two of you, only dropping it after being sure you knew “if he hurts you, I’ll kill him” in a way only younger brothers can.
You could do this. As long as you were distracted with work, family, friends. As long as you didn’t let your mind wander, as long as you kept busy, as long as you didn’t think about Harry or Erin or the wedding you ruined or the relationship you were maybe in that was on pause. It was then you began to falter. Late nights where you found yourself seconds away from googling him, wanting to be sure that both teams held up their end of the bargain, before shutting off your phone, knowing if something changed, he would tell you.
You could drive yourself crazy wondering what he was up to, if he was happy, if he’d want this break to go on for longer, if the time away made him change his mind. As the weeks went on, you began missing him more than ever, his absence weighing more heavily on you than it ever had in years before. It felt different, this time.
You had never felt like this before, in a relationship. Like you needed the other person. Not even in any sort of way, just needed to hear their voice or see their face. You missed him so viscerally it was shocking to you, and made you question everything. Why were you missing him so much? Was it just because you loved him or was it because you were so insecure you couldn’t believe the relationship would work unless you had eyes on him? What type of person does that make you? Erin would be able to handle a two month pause. Doubts crept into your mind, as you tossed and turned on your bed in the late hours, unable to quiet your racing mind. Insecurity wove its way into your brain, feeling pathetic in a way you hadn’t in years.
So yeah, you hadn’t been getting much sleep.
“Is Roxy there, love? Would love to say hi.” your mum said, pulling you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to the present.
“Do a wellness check on me, you mean?” you ask ruefully as you get up to head to Roxy’s room, knocking softly before entering as she leaps up to take the phone from your hands, almost immediately closing the door on you, to have the conversation away from your prying ears.
“Mama Ang!!” you heard her crow before her voice dropped down to a whisper. “You know, babe, I know just about as much as you do. The girl won’t tell me anything…”
You rolled your eyes, though it was hardly annoying to be this looked after. You had a great support system to get you through this. You were fine. You could handle sleepless nights and moments of doubt, you had great people in your life there to support you and fill the gaping hole you were beginning to feel in his absence.
It was about a week and a half later when it all fell apart.
The distractions were becoming less effective, the questions and doubts rattling around in your brain more often than not. And then…it was just one of those days. You slept past your alarm, the line at the cafe down the street was too long to stop at before work and you were almost positive you were about to get your period, if the way you teared up watching a girl and her grandma reading together on the tube was any indication.
Then, you hadn’t been paying close attention at work and had missed an entire section on a grant proposal that had been sent in earlier that day. Your boss called you into her office and reamed you out, making you feel like a proper idiot. You never make mistakes like this but that didn’t seem to matter. You spent several hours on the phone before the board agreed to accept the edited proposal, which you stayed after hours to write up and send in. It was late when you arrived home, exhausted and wrung out, just looking forward to taking a hot shower and getting into bed when you saw a note from Roxy on the coffee table saying the hot water was off and the landlord couldn’t come until tomorrow to fix it.
And that was it.
You collapsed on the couch, tears immediately pouring out of your eyes in frustration, stress, exhaustion, all the emotions you had been trying to keep at bay the past month rushing forward. You were dialing your phone before you realized what you were doing, eyes flying open when you heard the first few rings and immediately hanging up. You couldn’t do that, not yet. There were still a few weeks until the end date and this hardly constituted an emergency, just a bad day you could get over by yourself despite how badly you wanted to hear his voice. Feeling so sorry for yourself another fresh round of tears sprung to your eyes.
He probably wouldn’t even notice the missed call but maybe you should text him just in case? Like a “please ignore, that was an accident”? You didn’t want to double down when you weren’t supposed to be in communication at all. You hated this feeling of overwhelming doubt, questioning yourself at every turn, resistant to even slightly overstep the boundaries he had asked for. You hadn’t been thinking. Why did you dial his number?!
Your phone started to vibrate in your hands.
Shit.
It was him.
You wiped your face, clearing your throat in an attempt to sound like you hadn’t in fact been having a mental breakdown, adjusting your airpods before you answered.
“Hi,” he said breathlessly, as if he ran to pick up the phone. “Just saw you called - wouldn’t have missed it if I saw.”
“Oh you could have missed it. It’s not important.” Your words were flying out of your mouth, tripping over your tongue in embarrassment. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean -”
“Whoa, hey. ‘S alright.” he says gently. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” you say, your voice coming out choked, a bit strained, completely unconvincing. You clear your throat. “Just a shit day and wasn’t thinking and called your number on instinct. Wasn’t trying - I didn’t mean to break the pause.”
“Fuck the pause. We started it, we can break it.”
“It’s really not important –”
“Sounds like y’ crying, that sounds important to me –”
“But H, you asked for space –”
“Yeah space to sort my life out, not to leave you alone when you’re upset.” he says adamantly. “Know what I asked for but y’called me crying and I don’t care if it was an accident or not, ‘m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”
“But I’m not gonna just barrel all over the boundaries we set and the space you needed because I had a bad day.”
“I appreciate that and I promise I’d tell you if I thought this was crossing a line that I didn’t want to. But ‘s not. Want you to talk to me.”
“If you’re sure - ”
“Dead sure. Quite flattered that I’m your go-to call.”
“Okay,” you say, snorting a laugh as you roll your eyes. “Now I’m gonna hang up.”
“Heeey. Talk to me. Please?”
And you do. You catch him up on your day, your boss being an asshole but also you feeling so stupid because you did in fact mess up and it wasn't like you were getting yelled at for nothing. He responds in all the right places, each hum, gasp or “fuck them” he utters making your heart warm, the feeling of talking to him for the first time in weeks settling something in you, tears long forgotten.
“Shit day,” he says emphatically once you finish as you hum in response. “Know I don’t know much about that world but I do know that you’re brilliant at that job. And there are very few people who would own up to a mistake and stay late to make it even better than before. They’re lucky to have you and they better bloody know it.”
You snort out a laugh.
“‘M serious.”
“I know you are.” you say softly, playing with the pillow on your lap, fingers scratching over the patterns. “Thank you for listening.”
“Course.” he says, just as soft. “I miss you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” he says, scoffing a laugh. ‘Why do y’sound surprised?”
“I’m not, I just was getting so in my head the last few weeks, it’s been nice to hear your voice.”
“Getting in your head about what?”
“Oh, no, it’s going to sound so stupid -”
“Try me.”
You heave a sigh, feeling your cheeks warm. He says your name gently, pleadingly.
“I’m not sure I even know how to articulate it.”
“Take your time, love. ‘S just me. Not going anywhere.”
You pause, listening to the sounds of him breathing on the other end, the silence helping you focus.
“I just think I…” you pause, taking a breath. “I’ve been surprised by how different this feels? Like I’ve gone this long without seeing you or talking to you before and it’s been fine but the last two weeks I’ve felt like, needy for you in a way I’ve not felt before.”
He hums in surprise, you can practically see the way his eyebrows shoot up, can hear the smile growing on his face.
“Okay, you arse, not like that.” you say, laughing when he does. “Okay - not entirely like that. I just think… I didn’t expect to miss you this much. Like I miss you more than I ever have. And the stakes are different this time, I just –”
You pause, every thought you’ve had these past few days rattling around in your brain as you try to sort them out. He stays silent on the other end, patient. Not pushing you into speaking before you’re ready.
“I think I didn’t realize how much I was affected by what happened the last time we saw each other. To go from not having you to having you to suddenly not having you again...it scares me that something like that could happen again.”
You hear him inhale sharply on the other end, every self conscious fiber of your being telling you to be quiet, to tell him you’re fine, it’s all good and you’ll see him in a month. It’s what you’ve always done with him, it’s what you did all those years ago, scrubbing at dishes in the sink at Christmas when he looked so confused and lost, wanting to scream all your emotions at the top of your lungs but instead swallowing them down and hiding yourself away. It’s not like that anymore, things are different and you’re different. You have to plow through.
“And I know that’s why we’re doing what we’re doing, why we’re on pause, to sort everything out which was necessary and I don’t regret it at all. And I know this pause isn’t how our relationship will feel, like a pause is different, in the future we’ll be talking more often and seeing each other. I just think I wasn’t expecting to feel all this much.”
“It’s never felt like this before, for me. A relationship, I mean. I got so self conscious about why I was missing you so much that I started to doubt things and feel insecure but talking to you now I think I just…”
“You just what?” he asks gently.
“Just…really love you?” You say with an embarrassed laugh, hearing the almost startled sound he makes, like his emotions got caught in his throat. “I've not felt like this before about anyone. Not even you. Which is amazing and scary and… I’m so used to closing parts of myself off to you in order to hide my true feelings for you which aren’t a secret anymore. So it's an adjustment, to fight against the instinct to keep things to myself, not to show all my cards. Because I want you to know all of me, all the cards, I'm just not used to knowing that can happen.”
“Makes sense. I think there’s definitely going to be adjustments as we’re entering new territory. But I’m here for all of it. I don’t want you keeping your feelings from me.”
“I know, I’m still getting used to it, I guess.”
“Yeah, I get that. But I love when you need me.”
“Yeah, I’m well aware –”
“Oiii you didn’t let me finish,” he all but whines. “Just mean you can be kind of a closed book–”
“Hmm, sound familiar?”
“Y’keep interrupting me and ‘m gonna hang up.”
“No, you won’t.”
He pauses.
“No, I won’t. You’re lucky you’re hot.”
That startles a laugh out of you, his chuckles on the other end warming you down to your toes.
“If you would let me finish - my sentence you numpty -” he says quickly the second he hears your intake of breath, effectively cutting off the sexual innuendo he somehow knew you were gearing up to say. “Y’ always encourage me to tell you what’s on my mind, but so rarely do the same for yourself. And I…I want all of it, with you. All of the mess and the ugly feelings. Think we got ourselves into this mess by keeping too much to ourselves and that’s the last thing I want. When it comes to you, I want it all.”
“And it goes both ways, ‘ve gotta be letting you in too. Like..” he takes a deep breath, letting out a sheepish laugh at himself. “I almost called you about 8 times that first week, convinced y’ were going to realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
“What?”
“We were in so many meetings about when I would first be photographed again, how long I should stay away from the public for ‘nd I was just like why would anyone sign up for a lifetime of this if they didn’t have to?”
“Harry - “
“I know it’s crazy and we can talk about it more when we see each other again - just wanted you to know that the doubts are happening to me, too. And then I talk to you and it’s exactly as you said.” he says and you can practically hear the smile in his voice. God, you miss him. “‘S never felt like this for me, either. And it’s nice to know that all the bullshit and fears don’t come close to how I feel about you. Really love you too, you know.”
You can’t explain the noise you make at that, gripping your phone a bit tighter, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. This was real. All the anxiety fueled doubts couldn’t come close to the reality. He was yours. You were his.
“I miss you.” you say, the words barely scratching the surface of all you want to say to him.
“Ah, now she says it -”
“Oh my god -”
“Couldn’t be bothered earlier but she hears three little words and suddenly –”
“I’m actually going to kill you.”
“No, you won’t.”
“No, I won’t.” you agree. “Turns out I’m not so keen on doing life without you.”
“Me either,” he says softly.
You sit there in silence, a small grin on your face, as your fingers scratch the pillow on your lap.
“Can I ask how things are going over there? Or would you rather wait?”
“No y’ can, it’s –” There’s a loud crashing sound on his end, followed by laughter. “Shit - hang on.”
“Are you with people right now? You didn’t have to -”
“Wanted to.” he says, not even entertaining your argument for a second. “‘S just Tom and Tyler. Came out a few days ago to write with me. Was writing a bit like mad on my own. Turns out I had quite the inspirational weekend a month ago.”
“I mean you did experience about every emotion on the spectrum.”
“Nah, think it was just being with you.”
“Oh yeah? Writing songs about me?”
“Mmm, wouldn’t be the first time.” he says, your mouth dropping open in shock. “Got lots of lines written about those eyes of yours…the way you get a little dimple when you’re smiling really hard, the look on your face when you tell me you love me…”
He pauses, inhaling deeply, his voice coming out like gravel when he says the next bit:
“How you feel wrapped around me.”
Your mouth goes completely dry, hands tightening on the pillow, heart racing.
“How you look when you’re about to –”
“Gonna cut you off before we get in trouble.” you say shakily.
“Don’t mind a bit of trouble, me.”
“Yeah, I’m familiar. But feel like that would absolutely fracture the rules of the pause.”
“Fuck the pause. Throw the pause in the bin –”
“I should let you go back to your friends.”
“I’ll get new friends.”
“Harry!” you say with a laugh, hearing him chuckle on the other end. “I’ll see slash talk to you in like 3 weeks yeah?
“Okay,” he grumbles. “But y’ can call me any time before then, if you need.”
“Appreciate that. You can too. Going to try to get through these next few weeks on my own, though.” He hums in response. “Aaaand pause resumed.”
“You’re so stupid.” he says laughing. “Talk to you in three weeks, baby.”
“Didn’t mean to cut you off I just … I’ve dreamt about our reunion sex so much the last place I want to have it is over the phone.” you say, hearing him splutter on the other end. “See you in three weeks love you bye.”
He practically squawks in protest as you giggle and hang up, feeling ages better than you had before you called him. You’ve never had that before in a relationship. You feel lighter, freer. And loved.
Your phone buzzes with a text.
H
That was just mean.
H
Love you. Just 3 weeks xxx
Yeah, you were loved.
—-
You were absolutely about to jump out of your skin, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning as you woke up hours before your first alarm. You grabbed your phone, immediately reading over the flight details he had sent you a few days earlier with several “xxxxx” in tow.
Today. He was coming back to you today. Holy shit.
You had taken a far healthier approach this past month, letting the bad feelings happen instead of trying to ignore them with distractions, getting back in touch with your therapist to explore those fears of letting yourself be fully seen, and being Roxy’s ultimate wingwoman, though she did see right through you when you kept encouraging her to see that guy from the bar again tonight. What you were calling being a supportive friend, she was calling a blatant attempt to not get cockblocked. Tomato, tomahto.
You had been sleeping better, feeling better and were more than ready to see Harry again. It was nerve wracking, heading into this new chapter, knowing there were no planned pauses, no other people entering the chat, it was just going to be you and him. After all this time. Holy. Shit.
You were cleaning your living room for the umpteenth time, still having a few hours to go before Harry’s plane was supposed to land and there was a knock on your door. Roxy had just left, swearing she would not return, flying out the door with a tight squeeze and kiss on your cheek.
“Forgot your keys again —?” you say, swinging the door open and absolutely stopping in your tracks. There he was. After two months. Right in front of you. You could cry. You might cry.
“Thought you were Roxy.”
“‘S it okay that I’m not?”
“Jury’s still out.” you say breathlessly as he snorts. “You’re early.”
“Changed my flight. Couldn’t wait.” he says with a glint in his eye. You quickly scan him, noting the deep tan, the longer strands of curls falling out of his hat, the sweatshirt and joggers combo that makes you want to eat him, the facial hair. Hold on.
“You’ve got facial hair.” you say, rather stupidly, as he tilts his head back in laughter.
“Yeah I do.”
“Like a proper beard. You’ve never been able to grow facial hair.”
“Times are changing, babe. You gonna let me in anytime soon or keep staring at me?”
“Gonna keep staring for a bit, I think.”
“Get the fuck over here.” he says, practically plowing you over as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, all but carrying you into the flat as the door closes behind him. You wrap your arms around him, knocking off his hat in the process, and hold on tight. He’s murmuring something into your hair but you’re not paying attention, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his body against yours, his arms holding you close, his new beard scratching against your cheek.
You stand there, holding so tight, feeling like you’re taking the first real breath you’ve taken in months, a part of you setting into place. You’ve got no idea how long you stand there and don’t care, refusing to let go even for a moment.
You pull your head back slightly, bringing your hands up to his face, fingers scratching at the beard.
“Not gonna get over this.”
“You like it?”
“Looks good. Really good. You look good.” you say, your hands coming down to rest on his chest, playing with the strings of his hoodie.
“Yeah?” he says, his eyes scanning down your body. “So do you.”
You lock eyes, staring at each other for a moment, smiles fighting their way onto your faces.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Missed you.”
“Me too.” he says, nudging his nose against your cheek before planting a kiss there, inhaling deeply. Eyes flicking up to yours before his gaze falls to your lips, he licks his own before leaning in, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in two months.
Yes.
It’s like coming home, like the first day of spring after a long cold winter, a lemonade on a hot summer day. You practically melt into him, his hands coming up to cup your face as he presses another tender kiss to your mouth. He’s holding you so delicately, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek like you’re made of glass. You’ve never been kissed like this. You grip his sweatshirt, pulling him closer to you, not wanting even a centimeter of space between you. He sighs into your mouth, pressing another sweet kiss against your lips before pulling away, never straying too far as he kisses your jaw, your temple, your hairline before ducking in and placing another soft kiss on your lips.
He pulls back slightly, his arms dropping to wrap around your waist once more, looking down at you with a small smile on his face.
“Missed that.” he says, pressing his lips to yours before dragging them down your jaw, nuzzling into your neck, tightening his grip around you. “Missed you so much, baby.”
“Can’t believe you’re here. In my flat. Kissing me.” you say, as he hums, planting a kiss on your neck before pulling back to look at you, soft eyes grazing over your features as a grin grows on your face. “You’re kissing me in my flat.”
“Planning on doing a whole lot more in this flat if you let me.” he says.
“Yeah, I’m counting on it.” you say, as his grip on your waist tightens. “Just mean like…so much of Italy felt like a fever dream. But you’re here. This is real. It’s… overwhelming.”
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“In the best way.” you say, emotion clogging your throat as you look back at him, the way he’s softly staring back at you. You’d feel silly getting this emotional about something so mundane, but it felt monumental. This wasn’t a special occasion, spur of the moment fling. This was who you’d get to see after a long day of work, who you’d go grocery shopping with, spend your weekends with, clean the bathroom with. He was your person. Even in your wildest teenage fantasies you could never imagine it feeling like this. Like home. Tears spring to your eyes, as he gently brings his thumb up to wipe them away, emotion clouding over his own features.
“I just - I got so excited at the idea of doing laundry with you. Like the mundane, everyday, kissing in my flat stuff. Running errands, doing chores...”
“Just wait until we load the dishwasher together,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Get the groceries…”
“You’re gonna rile me up.” you say as he huffs a laugh against your skin, before pulling back to look at you, his own eyes glassy, lips quirking up in a small smile.
“I’m so ready for it. All of it. I’ve never…” he says, taking a deep breath, glimmering eyes never straying from your face. “Never been more ready for anything in my life, I don’t think. Life with you, ‘s the dream.”
You stand there, letting his words wash over you, warmth flowing through you in waves as you bite your lip and try in vain to blink back tears, not sure you could ever find the words to articulate how you feel right now. You open your mouth and promptly close it, not even sure where to begin.
“Got y’ speechless, have I?” he asks with a soft smile.
You shake your head, trying in vain to bite down your smile, before leaning up and kissing him, hoping every drag of your lips can begin to express what words are failing to. He hums into the kiss as you slide your hands into his hair, bringing one arm up to wrap around your upper back, holding you as close as possible.
He kisses you slowly, gently, the exact way you want to be kissed, his tongue sweeping over yours in smooth passes. You sigh into his mouth as his hold tightens and you’re content to stay there forever, wrapped up in his arms, being taken apart with every soft drag of his lips.
“For me too.” you frantically mumble in between kisses, hands grasping tighter. “It’s –”
“I know, baby. I know.” he says, his hand coming up to settle around the back of your neck, tightening his grip as he pulls you in. “Come here.”
Time passes but you’re not aware of it, too caught up in the feel of his body against yours, the grip of his hands, the curl of his tongue. He eventually pulls away with a gentle suck to your bottom lip, kissing a line across your jaw before burying his head into your neck.
You stand there, breathing each other in, holding on to each other, your brain trying to process the fact that the person you always dreamed would be yours is, in fact, yours. And wants you back just as much. It makes you tighten your hold, your breath catching in your throat as his hand starts to rub soothing circles on your back, instinctively knowing what you need without you ever saying it.
“How was your flight?” you mumble against his shoulder. He huffs a laugh against your skin, pressing a kiss on your jaw before pulling back, his hands sliding down your back to hold your waist.
“Was fine. Long. Just wanted to get here.” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Left all my stuff in the car. Just needed to see you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Thought you might,” he says, kissing your temple, his thumbs drawing small circles on your hips.
“Probably should have our big chat about our feelings, yeah? Talk about our time apart…how we’ve grown as individuals…” you say as he hums against your skin. “You could sing me those songs you wrote about me…”
“Yeah that’s not happening.” he says, snorting out a laugh, grazing his finger against your cheek, his tone softening when he says: “Not yet.”
The look on his face makes your heart flutter, his whispered words combined with that smile of his making you weak at the knees. You could get lost in his eyes if you stand here too long but you have a mission. You were meant to be responsible.
“Talking.” you say and he smirks at you, amused by your absolute lack of eloquence. “We- we should talk.
“Right. Let’s talk, baby. Wanna hear what you’ve been up to.” he says, his eyes roaming over your body. “Because once I get you in bed, I’m not planning on letting you out of it.”
“Is that a promise?” you ask, your pulse skyrocketing as he licks his lips, eyes darkening as he nods, his grip on your waist tightening, making your brain go a bit hazy before you snap yourself out of it. “Responsible. We’re going to be responsible. I got snacks.”
You take a step away from him and try to turn towards your kitchen and out of his hold, though he doesn’t let you get very far, his arm winding over your shoulder and across your chest to pull you back against him.
“Harry. Snacks.”
“Wherever you go, I go, baby.” he says as you snort. You can feel his laughter on your neck as he plants a kiss on your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your shoulder before you start to move.
“Fancy a cuppa?” you ask, making your way over to the kitchen counter, doing your best to gather supplies with this oaf attached to your back.
“Please.”
“I went to that bakery you like and got those rank profiteroles you love.” you say, relaxing back into him. “The woman behind the counter was like ‘oh no one ever orders these, the owners will be so pleased and i was like ‘yeah, well my boyfriend’s obsessed with them -”
You immediately freeze. It’s the first time you’ve ever said it out loud, ever called him that, and by the way he stiffens against your back, barely breathing, you know he knows.
“Your who?” he whispers against your neck.
“You heard me.” you say quietly, hoping the low volume will hide the waver in your voice.
“Yeah, but I want to hear y’ say it again.” he says, hooking his chin over your shoulder, squeezing your arm, you can hear the grin in his voice. “Who is obsessed with them?”
“Are you 12?”
“Baby.” he says, planting a kiss behind your ear. “Please. What did y’ call me?”
“My boyfriend.” you say softly. “I called you my boyfriend –”
He spins you in his hold, bringing his hands up to cup your face as he kisses you so thoroughly it makes your head spin. His tongue glides over yours smoothly as his thumb softly strokes your face. A man of multitudes. He pulls back slowly, planting one more chaste kiss to your mouth, his hands not leaving your face.
“Is that – “ you say, still trying to catch your breath. “Is that okay?”
His brow furrows in disbelief, not letting you move out of his grip. “Just told you a minute ago I wanna do life with you.”
“I know, but this is putting an official label on it. Which feels different. It feels right but it’s, like, official. For real..”
“Are y’ asking me to go steady with you?”
“Oh my god I don’t know why I even bother –”
“Hey, heeey. None of that.” he says with a laugh, pinning you to the counter with his hips while his lips kiss a pattern across your face before he gently bites at your cheek and pulls away.
He just looks at you, that soft, just for you smile on his face as he takes a deep breath, looking like he’s about to burst with the love radiating off of him. It’s contagious, making a wide grin spread on your face as you feel like you’re buzzing from the inside out.
“Let’s make it official, baby. ‘M your boyfriend. And you’re my girlfriend. And we’re…” he says, taking a deep breath, a small blink-and-you’ll-miss-it blush growing across his cheeks. “And we’re in a relationship. ”
You’re suddenly 15 again trying to slow your galloping heart rate any time Harry hugs you hello, you’re 18 trying not to stare too hard at your best mate’s bare chest as he does a cannonball into the ocean, you’re 22 trying to steady the shake in your hands as you cut his ponytail because he insisted you be the one to chop it, you’re 25 going on 26, in your kitchen, with your best mate who’s now your boyfriend. A fantasy you used to write about in your journal, used to cry yourself to sleep over.
If you could grin any wider, your face would split in half, heat rushing to your cheeks as you look up at him. The two of you standing there, big smiles on your faces, looking at each other in joy, in awe. It feels a bit juvenile to be getting so worked up over a label but you can’t help it. It’s different with him. Everything’s different with him.
Your face crumples slightly, overwhelmed by the love flowing through you, the love you’ve always felt for the man looking back at you.
“I know, I know.” he mutters, pulling you closer. “Long time coming, huh?”
“You could say that,” you whisper back as he wraps his arms around you, planting a kiss on your temple.
“Thank you for waiting for me to catch up.” he whispers, smiling down at you as butterflies erupt in your stomach, your heart feeling on the cusp of bursting.
You gently wind your arms around his neck, pushing your hand up into his hair as he closes his eyes briefly at the feeling of your nails against his scalp. He opens his eyes, those green irises focusing right on you, looking at you like you’re the only person on the planet, his expression so sincere it all but bowls you over.
“Would’ve waited my whole life for you, I think.”
You can see the words hit him as his eyes go glassy, blinking a few times while looking back at you. He lets out a sheepish laugh when you bring a hand up to gently wipe away the tears pooling in his eyes, biting his lip as he grins at you before planting a kiss on your palm. His index finger brushes down the side of your face gently as he looks at you in awe, in wonder and you feel like you’re on fire.
You’re not sure who closes the gap first but you know it doesn’t matter, clutching each other so tight that you feel his groan before you hear it as you swipe your tongue over his. He kisses you deeply, reverently, his tongue licking into your mouth in languid, all encompassing passes that make you feel like you’re going to explode. He pulls away slowly, kisses trailing down your neck as he takes his time licking and biting at the skin there.
“Do you -” you gasp out, sparks flying through you with each drag of his lips. “Would it be alright if we -”
“Being so polite. You trying ask me to tea or ask me to take y’ to bed?” he mumbles, mouth not straying far from its spot on your neck, laughing against your skin when you smack him.
“You know,” you say with a huff of frustration, “I’m usually quite good at this but but you’ve got me flustered -”
“Promise y’ you’re still good,” he mumbles, kissing his way across your throat and taking his time on the other side, letting out a deep breath. “So good.”
“I just - I know I said we should talk but I -” you breathe out, the mindless patterns of his hands against your sides making it impossible to finish a sentence. The way he’s dragging his hands up and down, giving you an occasional squeeze. Those big hands. Jesus. “I want -”
“What do y’ want? Need you to tell me.”
“Want you.” you say as he bites down on your neck, hands squeezing you tight.
He groans, leaning his head against your collarbone, his palms clutching your hips.
“Do y’ have any idea what y’ do to me -” he grunts out. “Calling me up to say you’re needy, that you’ve dreamt of –”
He cuts himself off as he leans up, his lips claiming yours. This kiss is not like the others, it's deep from the start, as he licks into your mouth with a groan. His hands can’t seem to find a place to settle, roaming from your hips, your sides, your breasts, your arse. His breaths are ragged as he bites your lower lip before diving in for more, nothing gentle or sweet about the way he’s making you moan into his mouth, each drag of his tongue driving you mad.
“Bedroom,” he says, wrenching his mouth away from yours. “Let’s – bedroom. Unless you want your boyfriend to fuck you on the counter.”
You choke on air, your nails digging into the muscles on his shoulders.
“Need you horizontal c’mon baby -” he mutters, already pulling you back from the counter as you grab his hand and take off down the hallway towards your bedroom, faltering only slightly when you look back to see him lacing your hands together and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
You both practically trip over yourselves in eagerness once your door is closed, laughing into each other’s mouths. His hands fall to your waist, sliding up your skin as he pulls your shirt up and over your head, mouths disconnecting before crashing together again. He kisses his way down your neck, making quick work of your bra as he kisses across your chest, mouth wrapping around your nipple as his hands slide further down, pausing at the waistband of your jeans. He pulls his head back to look at you, leaning in to kiss you softly.
“Can I?” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you when you nod, hands slipping on your skin. “Sorry, my palms are sweaty.”
“Mine too,” you whisper as you both laugh sheepishly.
“We’ve done this bit before.”
“Yeah, but it still feels new. It always …everything feels new with you.”
He nods once, marveling at you for a second before pressing his lips to yours, sweet in contrast with the way his hand keeps inching closer to where you need him most. You fist his sweatshirt, pulling at it in frustration.
“Can we get this off please?” you huff, trying in vain to start to push it up when he simply won’t budge.
“Patience is a virtue, darling” he says, taking his sweet time unbuttoning your jeans as he kisses along your jaw, heat spreading through every ounce of your body and you want to kill him.
“Yeah but I’m practically naked while you’re fully dressed.”
“Cause I got my priorities straight,” he says, hands finally sliding past your waistband into your underwear, biting down on your lip when you gasp at his fingers pushing past your folds, feeling the wetness there. “Fuck, baby. Did I get y’ this wet?”
He kisses you before you can respond, licking hotly into your mouth as he pulls his hand away, shushing you when you whine. He uses both hands to pull your jeans and underwear off, helping you balance when you kick them to the ground.
“On the bed,” he mumbles, “need y’ on the bed.”
He walks you backwards until your legs hit the mattress and you lie back, pushing yourself up with your arms until you’re in the middle of the bed, propped up on your elbows, eyes never leaving his.
His eyes roam all over your body, jaw set as his intent gaze sweeps over you, making every inch of you feel like it’s burning up from the inside out. He reaches behind his head to pull his sweatshirt and t-shirt up and over in one fell swoop, throwing them to the ground before clamoring onto the bed as he kneels between your legs, jogger-clad thighs nudging yours further apart.
You barely have time to take in the expanse of skin before he’s ducking down to kiss you again, getting temporarily lost in the mind-numbing drag of his lips, the soft moans he lets out when you push your hand up into his hair and tug it every so often.
He pulls away slowly, eyes sweeping up and down your body as he puffs out a big breath and shakes his head.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, pressing one more kiss to your lips before slowly making his way down your body, his tongue against your skin mixed with the deep timbre of his voice making you grip the bed sheets tighter, your breath coming in shorter bursts, hand falling away from his head as he makes his way down to your core.
“So sexy,” he mumbles, tongue sweeping along your stomach before he pauses to suck a mark into the skin. “All mine.”
A soft moan leaves your lips, his words and mouth against your skin proving to be a deadly combination, as arousal pools between your thighs. You shift on the sheets, deep desire flowing into restless anticipation.
“I know, baby, I know.” he says, kissing a line along your thigh, inching ever so close. “Gonna give y’ what y’ need.”
Your brain barely has time to catch up before his mouth is on you, humming as he licks a stripe up your slit, the sensation making you gasp. His hands slide up your legs to hold your hips down as he sucks your clit into his mouth, your eyes roll into the back of your head as heat sears through you.
He’s good at this and he knows it, eyes never wavering from your face as he watches the way you react to his tongue, moaning into you when your hand slides into his hair. You look down at him and almost come on the spot, the way his back muscles strain as he expertly moves his head, the image of him headfirst into you with his joggers still on doing something to you that you could never explain. Like he was so eager to get his mouth on you he didn’t stop to pull his sweats off. Fuck.
“Dreamt of this.” he mumbles, kissing a line up your stomach, your arousal already evident in that new 'stache of his. “Dreamt of you.”
“H-” you can’t do anything beyond moaning his name at this point, already gone past the point of coherence, using your hand in his hair to guide his head back down.
“Alright, needy girl, ‘m going” he says, kissing his way back down before biting down on the skin of your thigh, groaning out: “love you like this.”
He dives in tongue first, licking his way down to your entrance before dragging his tongue up to your clit, sucking it into his mouth in steady pulls. He’s getting sloppy with it, the feeling of his beard against your skin making you pull at his hair, while he kisses, licks and sucks. You’re so wet you can hear it, it would embarrass you if not for the way he clearly loves it, his eyes closed tight with his brow furrowed in concentration, nose nudging against your center as his tongue curls over you, grunting and groaning into you in a way that has you seeing stars.
“Want you to come like this. Want it in my mouth.” he mumbles, hooded eyes opening to look at you, take you in. “Can y’ do that for me?”
“Fuck - please I -” you’re cut off by your own moan, as he gets his mouth back on you. His hands on your hips no longer hold you down but encourage you to buck up into him. It’s overwhelming, heat searing through you and you can’t keep your eyes open, feeling yourself hurdle towards your orgasm with every slurp, lick, and suck. His grip tightens, nails making crescent marks into your skin as he latches onto your clit once more and sucks, hard.
And that’s it, your eyes roll back in your head as you come, so intense that you can’t hear the praise he’s mumbling, can feel nothing but endless heat, pleasure rolling through you, hand gripping his hair so tight as his mouth works you through your orgasm, only pulling away when you whimper from the overstimulation.
He plants one kiss against your core before kissing his way up your body, self-satisfied smirk on his face when his head hovers over yours, evidence of how hard you just came present in his beard. You look up at him, panting, sentences still jumbling in your brain as he settles next to you, laying a possessive hand on your stomach, thumb drawing mindless patterns on your skin.
“That good, huh?”
“Like you didn’t know.” you breathe out, thumb coming up to wipe his bottom lip, heat swirling through you when he grabs your wrist and sucks your thumb into his mouth, never once breaking eye contact.
“Christ.”
He hums, releasing your thumb with a pop before leaning in to kiss you, both of you moaning when your tongue swipes over his. Your hand drags down his chest, damp with sweat from the exertion of his efforts, and falls to the waistband of his joggers.
“I can’t believe you still have these on.” you say snapping the waistband against his abs as he moves to pull them off.
“Had you naked on your bed, time was of the essence,” he says, as you snort, watching as he successfully pulls his joggers and briefs all the way off and throws them on the ground, his hard cock slapping against his belly. Did he get that hard just from getting you off?
“Took your shirt off, though.” you say, voice wavering at how affected you are at the sight in front of you. This gorgeous man in all his naked glory.
“Yeah, well, I know how you feel about my arms. Wanted to give you a proper show.” he says with a shrug, hand sliding up your neck to grip at the nape, pulling you in for a deep kiss.
Your hand slides further down his abs, wrapping around him as he moans into your mouth. You pull away from him slowly, making full eye contact as you lick your palm, his eyes widening at the sight, before wrapping around him again. He moans, his grip on you tightening as he bites at your jaw.
“Got this hard from eating me out?”
“Y’ have no idea what you look like.” he says, pulling back to look at you, eyes roaming all over your face. “What you taste like.”
He captures your lips once more, breaths more ragged than before the more you play with him, your thumb swiping over the head as he bites your lip.
“Gotta stop -” he pants out. “Unless you don’t want -”
“No, I do.” you say, letting go of his cock in favor of straddling him. He sits up, trying to get close to your mouth but you shake your head and push him back down. He goes easily, eyes flickering all over your body, unable to settle on just one spot before looking back into your eyes, his own pupils blown wide.
“What’ve y’ got planned, love?”
“Wanna ride you.” you say, your hands staying planted on his chest.
“Fuck - yes please.” he groans, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “You have stuff?”
You falter. You do, you know exactly where it is but that’s not what you want tonight. You curse yourself, knowing you should’ve brought this up earlier, and not when you’re straddling him on your bed. The hesitation must be written on your face because he sits up quickly - damn those ab muscles - his hand coming up to cup your face, thumb rubbing on your cheek.
“What’s up? Do you not have any? Need me to pop to the -”
You shake your head. “Uh - no. I have stuff. I just - sorry I should have brought this up before -”
“‘S okay.” he says gently, patiently, as if you both can’t feel how hard he is against your thighs.
“I just - I got tested and I’m clean,” you say, his eyebrows shooting up before he schools his expression into something more neutral, though the sudden clamminess of his palm against your face gives him away. “And I’m on the pill. I have condoms and totally understand if that makes you more comfortable but I want this, with you. I want to feel –”
“Me too.” he says gruffly, a mix of emotions passing over his face as he stares back at you, so intently it makes your head spin. “I got tested a few weeks ago and I’m also clean - if you want that -”
“I do.”
He crushes his lips against yours, kissing you deeply as you clutch at his shoulders, giving it back just as good. His tongue passes over yours as he tightens his hold on your face, his other arm coming to wrap around your waist. You lose track of how long you stay there, kissing each other until your lips go numb, but he pulls back slowly, emotion clouding over his eyes as he looks at you, taking a few moments just to stare before he clears his throat.
“I know my reputation precedes me with this sort of thing-”
“That doesn’t matter to me.” you say, the look on his face making your heart clench. “At all.”
“I know I just - I want you to know that I don’t take this lightly. You trusting me like this. Me trusting you the same.” he says, with a shake of his head, looking at you with glassy eyes. “It’s - I haven’t done this very often and to get to do it with you is…”
“Yeah. For me, too.” you whisper, emotion caught in your throat, as the two of you just look at each other, biting down smiles.
You lean in to kiss him slowly, hands sliding up into his hair as he sighs into your mouth.
“I love you.” you say softly, the words almost getting caught in your throat as you look at him, hold him tight.
“Oh, angel.” he breathes out. “I love you too.”
You lean in at the same time, soft kisses slowly devolving into pure heat, tongues curling as you moan into each other’s mouths.
“Wanna make you feel good.” you mumble against his mouth.
“Yeah?” he says, kissing you once before kissing a line down your jaw. “Gonna take care of me?”
You nod, leaning in to slowly kiss at his neck as his hand slides down your body and rests on your thigh, squeezing once. You reach down to stroke him slowly as he groans, your tongue darting out to suck at the skin, leaving a mark in its wake.
You bring a hand down to balance on his shoulder as you line him up with your center, and slowly start to sink down, both of you moaning almost instantly at the sensation.
“Slow - baby, slow” he grits out, hands sliding up to your hips to hold on, to ease you down. Once you're fully seated, his hands come up to rub your back, his jaw set as he exhales through his nose, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to maintain eye contact. “Shit.”
“Okay?” you whisper, not doing much better yourself, being able to feel all of him like this makes your mouth hang open, sparks of arousal shooting up your spine.
“Yeah,” he mutters, huffing out a laugh. “Feel so good.”
He brings one hand around to massage at your breast as the other slides down to knead your ass as he leans in to kiss you deeply, both groaning when your tongues meet. You slowly lift up and back down, a sharp grunt leaving his chest as you start to find your rhythm, his hands gripping tightly at your hips. You find your pace slowly, the look on his face guiding every twist, turn and bounce of your hips.
He’s usually talkative during sex, a never ending stream of praise falling from his lips but you seem to have stunned him into silence as he sits there, grasping you tightly, mouth never moving far from yours. For a while, the only noise in the room is the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans, grunts and groans mixing together as you find a delicious rhythm that has left you both speechless, panting against each other's mouths.
You lose all sense of time, getting lost in the look on his face, the way he swallows harshly, his breath coming out shallow when you swivel your hips just so. It’s sweltering, it’s heady, overwhelming. The two of you losing yourselves to the pleasure as you ride him into the mattress, his hooded eyes watching your every move.
“‘S like a dream.” he mumbles against your lips. “Jesus.”
He kisses at your neck, the sensation making you clench around him, as he groans and bites down. Your hand slips on his sweaty chest, overwhelmed at the sight of him, jaw set, teeth gritted, eyes wild. He looks wrecked in a way you’ve never seen him, eyes squeezing shut and a deep exhale leaving his lips at a particularly tight swivel of your hips. Knowing you did that, that you’re making him feel this way, causes a fire in your belly unlike you’ve ever experienced before. You place your hand on his cheek and he opens his eyes to look at you, the look of pure ecstasy making you moan his name as you lean in to kiss him, gasping into his mouth when his grip on your hips tightens and he plants his feet, starting to thrust up into you.
Your rhythm falters, having lost any sense of control as he takes over, each drive of his hips hitting you just right. His face now steeled in determination, brow furrowed as he expertly guides his hips into yours, the bliss from before replaced by desperate need.
“Fucking me so good, baby.” he mumbles. “Couldn’t do anything but sit here and take it - y’ feel so -.”
“H-”
“Does it feel good?” he grunts, “Fucking yourself on my cock?”
“‘M close I -” you gasp out, nails digging into his scalp at a particularly hard thrust.
“Need to feel you come around me.” he mumbles, kissing along your collarbone. “What’s gonna get y’ there?”
“Want you on top.” you say, your legs all but turned to jelly as you try to keep up with his relenting pace.
“Give y’ anything.” he groans, “Anything y’ need. Hold on.”
He slows down his hips, holding you in place on top of him as you wrap your arms around his neck. He slides his arms up your back, warm palm sliding up to grip the back of your neck as he holds you tightly to him, leaning forward to lay you back on the mattress, never once disconnecting himself from you. He hovers over you, both groaning at the new angle. He slides his other hand down your body, grabbing the outer edge of your thigh to wrap around his hip as you bring your other leg up to do the same.
He leans in to kiss you deeply, grip tightening on the back of your neck as he starts to slowly grind his hips. You gasp into his mouth as you drag your nails down his back, his grinds turning into slow, deep thrusts that have both of you moaning.
“Y’ so wet,” he groans out. “Can feel all of it. All for me. Christ -”
His pace picks up, thrusting so hard you can hear the bed frame against the wall at the other end. Your hand falls to the bed, grasping at the bedsheets as he keeps driving his hips into yours, mumbling incoherently against your cheek, the feeling of his abs sliding against your skin sending sparks through you. You can see how hard he’s working, arms and thighs bulging as he works to give it to you as good as he can.
He squeezes your neck once, before sliding his hand over to where yours is gripping the sheets, lacing your fingers together and holding tight and you just about lose your mind.
“Y’ close? Squeezing me like y’ close.”
“Harry -”
“Love when you say my name like that.” he mumbles and you do it again just to see the look on his face. You slide your hand not holding his down your body to flick at your clit, watching his eyes go impossibly darker as you clench down on him.
“That’s it. Be my good girl and go after it.” he grunts, thrusting even harder than before. “Want y’ to soak me.”
It only takes a few more tight circles from your fingers and one perfectly timed thrust and then you’re coming, stars in your eyes as you shake with aftershocks, clenching down so hard his rhythm falters, a series of expletives falling from his lips.
“So good. That’s it. Y’ gonna make me come - fuck”
“Please - want you to.” you say, trying in vain to catch your breath as you clench down on him once more, overstimulation be damned. “Come inside me.”
“Jesus - fuck” he grunts out, brows furrowed, eyes focused on you, hips driving into yours once, twice, and then that’s it, a guttural groan punches out of him as strings of his come paint your walls, the sensation making you squeeze his hand tightly as he shakes through it, a look of utter bliss on his face.
He buries his head into your neck, panting heavily. You slowly lower your legs down to the mattress, sliding your hand out from in between your bodies and threading it through his sweaty hair, scratching at his scalp as your heart rates start to slow down and sync up.
You lay there for a few moments, just breathing each other in. He grunts wordlessly into your neck, the sound making you laugh, feeling of your bodies shaking against each other setting the two of you off.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, kissing your neck as he squeezes your hand once before pulling away, planting his hands on the bed to pull out, murmuring apologies into your skin when you hiss at the feeling before plopping on the bed next to you.
You turn your head to face him as he props himself up on his elbow, an indescribable glow on his features as he smiles softly at you, his arm splaying across you to wrap around your waist.
“It’s a good look on you.”
“What?”
“Satisfaction.” you say with a grin. He honks out a laugh, pulling you closer to him to kiss your face.
“Ah, a bit cheeky after riding my brains out, are ya?” he asks, kissing a line down your neck. “After fucking me bare?”
“That’s me. Cheeky and full of your cum.” you say, giggling when he tightens his grip on your waist, his breath leaving him in one big exhale.
“Can’t say shit like that, baby.” he mutters against your neck, tongue darting out to lick at the skin. “Gonna turn me into a bloody neanderthal. C’mere.”
He slides his hand up your body to grip at your jaw, pulling you towards him as he captures your lips with his, letting out a soft moan into your mouth when your tongue passes over his.
“You’re unreal.” he murmurs against your mouth. “So good to me.”
He kisses you again, somehow deeper this time as you sigh into his mouth, his hand gripping you tighter as you slide your hand across his chest. He pulls away slowly, kissing your cheek and temple before leaning back to look at you, soft smile on his face as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.
“And it was good for you, yeah?”
“Think you could feel that it was.”
“I could, yeah. Came pretty hard, didn’t you?” he says with a smirk. “Soaked me.”
“What was that you were saying earlier? About being a neanderthal?”
“Ah, so she can dish it out but can’t take it.”
“I can take it!” you scoff in indignation.
“Yeah, you can.” he all but growls, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“Oh my god -” you say, trying in vain to suppress the giggles escaping you as he laughs along with you, wrapping his arm around your waist again, nuzzling into your neck as you try to catch your breath before you both crack up again, laughing at nothing and everything, at this feeling of lightness, of love, effervescent joy.
Your laughter slowly subsides, just the occasional giggle coming out as you smile at each other. He kisses your cheek, your jaw and presses one soft, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling back. You shift your hips a bit, the reality of the no condom situation leaking out of you and you grimace slightly as his eyes track the moment.
“Not exactly comfortable, is it?”
“Can’t say it is, no. Loved it when it happened but now - ”
“Yeah. Hang on a sec.” he smacks a kiss to your forehead before pushing himself up and off the bed and jogging out of the room, you try in vain to tilt your head back to follow his movement but can only go so far. You hear the sounds of the sink turning on and promptly shutting off, his shuffle footsteps re-entering the room as he hops back on the bed next to you, wet washcloth in hand.
“May I?” he asks, holding up the washcloth.
“Not exactly sexy, is it?”
“Yeah, but I put it there.” he says with a shrug as he crawls between your thighs. “Least I can do is help clean it out.”
“Thank you.” you whisper, affection flowing through you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, planting your feet on the mattress. He presses a kiss to your knee as he starts to clean you up. There's a lot to be said about praising men for doing the bare minimum, how women should have higher standards but this isn’t common practice, something you’ve usually had to do on your own, grabbing a spare t-shirt or something for a quick fix. And this, letting him take care of you like this, makes you feel open and trusting in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever felt. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this cared for, a thought that makes tears spring to your eyes.
You quickly blink them away though when he looks up at you, you know he sees them, a gentle shake of his head as if to say “it’s nothing”, as if to say “you’re welcome”, as if to say “i’ll always take care of you”. He throws the washcloth into the laundry bin and crawls back up your body to plank over you, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss. You bring your hand up into his hair, kissing him back before pulling away and nudging your nose against his.
“Do you want to shower with me?” you ask.
“Yes please.”
You head to the washroom hand in hand, exchanging lazy kisses in front of the shower as you wait for it to heat up before squeezing in and attempting to be productive. You manage to completely wash your body and get most of your hair when he pulls you against him with a hand on your hip, planting deadly kisses along your neck as his hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, drawing circles on your belly before sliding down in between your thighs.
He waits until you’re ready and takes you right there, one hand splaying out across your stomach with the other is pressed against yours on the shower wall, his mouth pressed to your shoulder, hips driving into yours over and over with in a way that has you moaning out so loud you’re sure your neighbors can hear but you don’t care. Content to just lean back and lean into the pleasure until you’re both shaking with orgasms faster than you expected.
After snogging under the spray long after the hot water has run out, you get dried off and changed, throwing him an old pair of sweats and hoodie of his that you’ve kept all these years as you pass your phone back and forth to order from the local thai place you both love.
Once the food arrives you set up camp on the couch, laughing and reminiscing, though tactfully avoiding any discussion of the past two months, as you share plates, both eating more of what the other ordered than you’d ever admit. Once you’ve had your fill, the empty boxes stacked on the coffee table, you settle back on the couch, he grabs your feet and pulls them into his lap, resting a warm palm on your ankles as you lean back against the pillows.
“I really like this,” he says softly, a light squeeze on your ankle when you smile over at him. “Just like… everything about this day.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Nothing we’re running away from, nothing looming over our heads.” he says as you hum in agreement. “‘S all I could think about getting to these last few weeks and ‘s better than I imagined.”
“I know. Felt like it wasn’t gonna happen some days.”
“Yeah.” he says, looking down in his lap, small frown on his face. “Did it - y’never called me so I assumed but - how were the last few weeks for you? Better or just as shit as the first?”
“Better. Talking to you really helped and then I decided to, you know, actually feel my feelings instead of ignoring them? A novel concept.” you say, as he huffs out a laugh, attentive eyes on you. “Also started talking to my therapist again about, like all the guilt and weirdness from the wedding and my hesitation to be completely open and vulnerable with you, which is a bit of a work in progress.”
“Meant what I said on the phone, you know.” he says, hand sliding up to your calf, thumb moving soothing circles. “When I say I love you, I mean all of you. Nothing’s gonna scare me off or make me feel differently about you.”
You just look at him for a moment, his eyes full of warm, open affection staring back at you as you nod, biting your lip at the onset of emotions running through you. He squeezes your calf gently.
“Did your boss ever apologize?” he asks, frowning when you shake your head. “Wanker.”
You snort. “It’s alright. She’ll be groveling once the grant comes through. It’s not confirmed but have heard whispers that it’s likely going to us.”
“That’s my girl. Proud of you.”
“Thanks, H.” you say with a soft smile. “What about you? How has it been? Not gonna let you do that thing where you ask me loads of questions and be such a good listener that we never talk about you.”
“Ah, she knows my tricks.”
“Ah, yes she does.” you say as he laughs, looking down at his lap with a smile, thumb rubbing circles on your leg as he takes his time to find the words.
“It was…a lot. There was loads of bullshit in the first few weeks, meetings where I felt like I was back in the band again, all this talk about my image and how to best preserve it, not a lot about how I was doing or feeling.”
“That’s fucked.”
“Yeah. Didn’t feel good. It got better…once I drew my lines in the sand, established what was necessary for me to know and what wasn’t. Like if Erin’s team goes rogue and tries to talk about you or if anyone who was working the wedding comes forward - they can’t and they won’t.” he says quickly. “They signed some pretty ironclad NDAs.”
“Oh.” you say, not sure how to process that.
“Yeah. Now y’ know why I almost called you 8 times.” he says, pausing as a deep frown falls over his face. “I know I - last time we saw each other, I was angry and scared and snapped but…there was some truth to what I said. This bullshit never goes away with me. Not entirely. We can get good at tuning it out, but it’s always gonna be there. And I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to subject yourself -”
“Harry-”
“Just let me say this bit.” he says gently, cutting you off. “I know being with me has a price, however big or small you may think it is, it’s there. ‘nd I know you’ve experienced it as my friend but it’s…much different for who I’m dating, no matter how private we are. And I just want you to know that if it ever gets to be too much, I understand. I won’t hold it against you.”
“This is a legitimate fear of yours? That I’ll leave if the attention gets to be too much?”
“I know you don’t pay attention to any of it - it’s one of the things that makes me feel so lucky with all of this, that you really couldn’t give a shit about that. That you just love me for me. But… it can seep into every aspect of your life and force you to make sacrifices you never planned on making.”
“And I think a part of me is scared that ‘m not worth all that.” he says. “That I won’t be good enough to you or for you to make up for how difficult I may make parts of your life. You deserve privacy and normalcy in a way I can’t provide. At least not all of the time. And I just need you to know that you always have an out.”
You stare at him for a moment, the determined, slightly defeated look in his eyes before you sit up, pulling your legs off his lap and crossing them in front of you on the couch, knees bumping against his thigh. You take his hand, holding it between both of yours.
“And I just need you to know that I’m never going to use it.” you say, rushing to keep talking when he opens his mouth. “I know I don’t know the full extent of what your world can feel like, being involved in it in this new way, but I can say for sure it’s never going to make me want to give you up. Or like, run away when the scrutiny gets too intense. This isn’t conditional, for me. I’d do a lot worse and sacrifice a lot more to get to have you like this. We’re in this together. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to want to.”
He stares at you, blinking rapidly as he takes a deep breath, squeezing your hand.
“Thank you.” he says softly, brow furrowing as his lip twitches, trying to hold his emotions in. “I don’t take that lightly, you know. And you can change your mind at any -”
“I’m not going to. Not about that. Not about you. I don’t want you constantly worrying that if something goes wrong with your public life, I’m gonna go. I won’t. That’s not going to happen. Those are easy sacrifices to make.”
He closes the distance between you before you even realize what’s happening, kissing you deeply as his hand cups your jaw. He gently pulls his other hand from yours, bringing it up to frame your face, thumbs brushing over your cheek when you sigh into his mouth.
“Thank you.” he mumbles in between kisses. “Don’t know what I did to deserve…”
He shakes his head, eyes darting over your face before pressing his lips to yours once more, humming into the kiss. You just sit there and let yourself be kissed, head reeling from how good this all feels, how right, when he pulls back suddenly.
“I don’t want it to be just you giving things up or changing things for me.” he says sincerely, eyes not wavering from yours. “Like y’ said, we’re in this together. I want to make sacrifices for you, too. I want to be meeting you in the middle.”
“That’s really good to hear.” you say solemnly, taking a deep breath. “Because the paps surrounding the nonprofit world can be vultures.”
“Alright,” he says, rolling his eyes as he pinches your cheek before you swat his hand away. “Little jokester are ya?”
“It’s just so refreshing to finally be with someone willing to make those life changes for me.” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder.
Your sincere facade lasts all of two seconds, shrieking as his hands fall to your sides, trying to jab the most ticklish spots he’s learned over the years.
“The intense scrutiny that comes from being - ah! - with someone who sits at a desk for 8 hours writing proposals—”
“Are y' done?”
“I’ve got about 5 more minutes of material –”
He honks out a laugh, pulling you across his lap with minimal struggle from you lying you flat on your back on the other end of the couch as he plants his hands on either side of your head.
“Here I am, baring my soul… telling y’ my deepest fears,” he says one hand coming to tickle at your side as you try to dodge him. “And you’re just taking the piss -”
“Oh my god -”
“I’m afraid I’ll never be able to be vulnerable again…”
“Gonna nominate you for a BAFTA for this performance.”
“I’d like to thank the academy –”
“Alright, pal,” you laugh as you grab his wrist and pull, effectively knocking him off balance and he collapses onto you with a big “oof”, both of you giggling as you try to catch your breath.
“I can’t believe you tickled me.” you say, as he laughs against your neck.
“Ah, but in a battle of wits against you, darling, I’m guaranteed to lose. I needed backup.” he says, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “All hands on deck.”
You sputter out a laugh at that, warmth rushing through you as you look over at him, the wide grin on his face, the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs with you. It wasn’t even that funny, it was just so stupid, so him, said with such sincerity it makes your heart race. You can’t stop replaying his line delivery as another wave of laughter rolls through you.
“You are such an idiot.” you laugh, shaking your head at him.
“Yeah, might be.” he says with a shrug, eyes twinkling as he looks at you. “But I think I’d say just about anything to make y’ laugh like that.”
You can’t stop the smile that grows on your face, his words rendering you speechless, warmth blooming on your cheeks as the laughter all but dies in your throat when you take in the way he’s looking back at you.
“‘S my favorite sound.” he says, so softly it’s almost to himself as he leans in, eyes locked on your mouth before they drift up, smiling when you lock eyes. You lean up to close the distance between you, running your fingers through his hair as he hums into the kiss, his hand slowly sliding up and down your arm as your lips slide against each other. It’s soft, warm, reverential, this kiss.
You pull back slowly as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, pulling you back to him, mumbling “‘m not done yet” against your mouth.
He kisses you slowly, his hand a steady presence against your jaw as his lips drag against yours, smiling against your lips with you let out a little sigh, tilting his head to get the angle right. You’re practically melting against the couch, every kiss feeling better than the last.
He pulls away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back to look at you, warm eyes slowly passing over your features.
“That got ya to stop teasing me, didn’t it?” he says, leaning back in to plant kisses along your cheek.
“Mm, much more effective than tickling.”
“Mutually beneficial as well.” he says, laughing when you do before pulling back to grin at you.
You shake your head at him, a mumbled “idiot” leaving your lips though your smile detracts any potential sting of your words.
“Yours.” he murmurs, kissing you softly.
He presses a kiss to your cheek before scootching down the couch a little, getting comfortable as he lays his head on your chest, arms wrapping around you as his legs intertwine with yours. Your hand comes up to play with his hair, scratching at his scalp as he hums.
“This couch is kinda small for those long legs of yours.”
“Nah, I like it.” he says, wiggling his hips for emphasis, making you snort. “‘S cozy. ”
“It’s nice, innit?” you say, as he hums, hand squeezing your waist.
You lay there for a bit, playing with his hair in comfortable silence. It’s so nice, being with him like this, two of you able to just enjoy each other's company, having each other close after all this time. You don’t want to disturb the peace, but curiosity is gnawing at you.
“Could you tell me more about what you’ve been up to?” you ask softly. “Gonna depress me if I keep thinking about you being stuck in those bloody meetings. Did it ever ease up or am I going to have to beat someone up?”
“Defending my honor, are ya?”
“Always.”
“My girl.” he says with a grin, before taking a deep breath, squinting off into space as he thinks through his next words. “It definitely got better… especially when Jeff and Sadie took over that side of things, knowing to only contact me if things got bad, which they didn’t. Let me deal with the aftermath of the wedding and breakup like a human ‘nd not a machine.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, was nice to finally realize that I - I can’t be everything to everyone all the time. To, like release that standard I always held myself to felt really good.” he says, the look on his face making your heart clench. “Was able to really think about what I want and who I want to be for the first time in ages.”
“That's what you deserve, you know.” you say softly. “A life lived for you and not for anyone else. It’s what you’ve always deserved.”
You can see the emotion pass over his face as he clears his throat, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning back against the couch cushions to get a good look at your face. He takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.
“Thanks, baby.” he says, taking a deep breath as he runs his thumb over your knuckles. “Was good to finally have the time to realize that. To start to figure out how to do that… I didn’t have to work at all - I had taken that time off for the wedding and um, honeymoon and haven’t had that much time off in about a decade - to just like be with myself for any amount of time longer than a couple of hours was a bit of a mindfuck. Lasted about a week before I called Tom up.” he says with a sheepish laugh, leaning into your hand when you run it through his hair.
“Some things never change.” you say as he hums in agreement, before his brow furrows as he thinks through what he’s going to say next.
“I just - I spent my time working on myself in a way I’ve never had time to do before. Working on being a better friend, going to therapy to really unpack everything I’ve been through. Was definitely scary and challenging in a way I hadn’t expected, to face the truth of everything and really reflect on the past year I had, all the things I’d been running from. Got more in touch with myself than I have in years and it…” he pauses, looking up at you, eyes flitting over your features as he inhales deeply through his nose.
“It made me so grateful for the present moment and for the people I have in my life, my relationships with my family ‘nd friends ‘nd…you. Especially you. I really needed that time to get closure on a lot of things. Still a work in progress, like y’ said, but it was a good start. Made it easier to deal with the logistics stuff - like moving out of the place Erin and I had in Kensington.”
“Oh shit. How was that?”
“Was… okay.” he says. “Erin really wants nothing to do with me right now, which I understand, so it was mostly handled by our assistants, as mad as that sounds. So Joanna really did most of the work and I was able to stay out of it. Was weird but… it never felt like home, that place. None of that really did. Or it did for the beginning but stopped feeling like it far earlier than I was willing to admit.”
“So you haven’t talked with Erin at all?”
“No, not directly, just through our teams and stuff.” he says. “I would’ve loved to have a chat about everything but when she tried to go after you that changed things for me. But… I also know that what I did really hurt her and she doesn’t owe me her forgiveness or anything. I think how we’ve been doing things - just through our teams - is the best way for now.”
“Right. That makes sense”
“How’s all that been for you?” he asks. “I know it was rough for both of us to come to terms with, starting this relationship like that.”
“Yeah it … I don’t know, it’s definitely easier than it was. Think the amount of time that’s passed since that weekend really helped,” you say. “Like the nagging guilt that was there for that first month has mostly faded. Think I’ve gotten better at coming to terms with the fact that what’s done is done and I can’t change the past or rewrite our history. And now it doesn’t feel like a shadow over this, or something holding us back. It feels more like we can just be us. Which just feels… so good and right and ….”
You cut yourself off, nose scrunching as you try to hold your emotions in, his hand squeezing yours in encouragement.
“Feels like everything I’ve ever wanted.” you say softly, voice cracking with emotion as a wide smile grows across your face. He just looks at you, his own eyes filled with emotion as they graze over your features carefully, reverently.
“‘M coming over there.”
“Over where?! You are already on top of me -”
“Not all the way give me a mo -” he says, sliding over you until his head is right above yours, bringing one hand up to cup your face, open emotion on his face.
“I… I feel so ready to be in this with you ‘nd ‘m so grateful you chose me. Don’t really know what I did to deserve any of it but I … thank you for giving me that time and space and sticking with me through this.”
“H, I was never gonna go anywhere.”
“No, I know I just… Being with you feels different than anything I’ve never experienced before ‘nd I am just…” he cuts himself off, taking a shaky breath before shaking his head, leaning in to kiss you.
“Bloody in love with you.” he says against your mouth, diving in to capture your lips once more before you can even respond. His thumb brushes along your cheek as he drags his lips against your, kissing you reverently while holding you tight against him.
He pulls back slowly, his lips kissing a line up your face before resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, lightly panting against your mouth.
“Love you, too.” you whisper, the words hardly capturing how this moment feels or how you feel about him. The love flowing through you stronger than you’ve ever felt it before. Heartbeats syncing up as you hold each other close. Finally.
“Alright, your turn.” he says after a while, settling back down with his head on your chest.
“My turn? H, I already –”
“C’mon love I just talked for ages, ‘m sure you still got some stories for me.”
“Pressure is on, okay…oh !” you say, smiling at the eager look on his face as you start to tell him about a particularly wild night out you had with your mates a few weeks back, that almost ended with Jenna getting a few stitches at the A&E, living for how along for the ride he is, reacting at all the right spots. He’s always been your favorite person to tell stories to; no one listens with quite the same intensity as he does, no pay off feels better than shocking a laugh out of him.
You swap stories from there, him telling you the hijinks that him, Tom and Tyler got up to, his long phone calls he had with his mum, you tell him how you parents cried even when you gave them the bare minimum about what was going on with you two, how Roxy tackled you to the ground when she found out, how Archie threatened him. He starts to launch into a story about a very stoned writing session him and Tyler had and you’re listening, you swear you are…it’s just you hadn’t really slept very well last night and his voice is so soothing, his body so warm, you can feel the vibrations of his voice and you try to stay awake, you do, but you can feel your eye drift shut…
“Falling asleep on me?” he asks, hand brushing through your hair as you quickly blink your eyes open.
“No, no I’m not -”
“Baby -”
“‘S just … you’re so warm and your voice is so nice.” your words were slurring a bit but you were too tired to fix it. “Just didn’t sleep a lot last night. Was too excited.”
“To see me?”
“Felt like Christmas.” you mumble, your exhaustion erasing any possible brain to mouth filter.
“Oh angel,” he says, kissing your forehead as his hands draw up and down your arms. “Want to go to bed?”
“Noo, want to stay right here. Keep talking, I’m listening..”
“Okay,” he says with a chuckle, “Hang on, then.”
He wraps one arm around you and plants the other on the couch, gently flipping the two of you over so you’re laying on his chest as he lays against the pillows. You sigh sleepily, nuzzling your head into his chest. He’s got one arm behind his head and the other brushing up and down your back. “‘S better, isn’t it?”
“Mmmf” you mumble, words failing you at this point, your attempt at being awake slipping through your fingers.
He kisses your forehead, picking up right where he left off in the story. You think. You could feel yourself start to nod off again, trying to shake yourself out of it but everything felt so comfortable, so right…
When you open your eyes, it’s morning. And you’re in bed. How did you…?
You slowly shift, trying to get more oriented to the day as you squint into the early light, looking over to see him sound asleep, stretched out next to you and - oh.
Hazy memories of last night fill your head, of him softly telling you to go back to sleep as he carried you - he carried you?! - from the couch to the bed, strong arms looped under your knees and back, holding you tight against his chest as his lips brushed against your hairline. Memories of him whispering “I love you” as he slid next to you in bed, memories of you grunting back at him, his soft laughter against your neck as he pulled you closer.
It makes you flush, warmth flowing through every fiber of your being. You quietly slip out from under the covers, careful not to wake him as you slip out of your room and into the washroom to quickly brush your teeth, heart fluttering as the memories from last night swirl around in your head. You head back to your room and lean against the doorframe for a moment, just watching him. The man you love, the boy you’ve always loved, asleep in your bed. Your boyfriend. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you bite down on the wide smile growing across your face. God, you love him. You really, really love him.
You pad over to the bed, quickly and quietly pulling off your joggers and tossing them on the floor. You slide a knee up and over the bed until you’re straddling him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Good morning,” you whisper and he snuffles sleepily, one arm instinctively coming up to wrap around your waist as he grunts. You stretch out so you’re laying on top of him, kissing a line up his neck, his arm sliding up to hold you close as he turns his head into the pillow, eyes still closed.
“H.” you whisper and he grunts and you laugh against his skin, kissing along his jaw. “Did you carry me to bed last night?”
He peeks one eye open at you, a faint blush blooming on his cheeks that makes your heart skip a beat, his hand coming up to rub his eyes as he shrugs.
“Yeah. You were dead to the world, love.”
“So you carried me?”
“Should’ve left you out there if I knew you were gonna tease me about it –”
“No no no” you say quickly, grabbing his face in both hands, as he blinks sleepily back at you, thumb brushing over his bottom lip, leaning in as you whisper: “Thank you.”
You kiss him softly, his hand around your back pulling you impossibly closer as you drag your lips against his. You’re murmuring thank yous, love yous in between kisses, feeling delirious with how much you want him. How much you need him. You rake your hands into his hair as you deepen the kiss, heat searing through you when he groans into your mouth.
“It's so crazy,” you say when you pull away, relishing the dazed look in his eyes, the way his gaze keeps falling back to your lips. “That you just look like this and it isn’t even the best thing about you.”
“Baby - “
“I’m serious, it's like… I fell in love with your heart and your mind and your stupid sense of humor and how patient you are, how kind,” you say, your fingers running through his hair, heart clenching when he leans into your touch. “And then you had to go and grow up like this with a six pack and these bloody arms and that face - it’s my favorite face. God, you’re maddening.”
You drag your hands down from his hair to his chest, resting on the muscles there, drawing mindless patterns, stomach twisting when his eyes darken. His hand slides up your back and rests on the back of your neck.
“C’mere.” his voice comes out as deep as gravel, pulling you towards him and kissing you hard. You feel overwhelmed with your love for him, each slide of his lips against yours making you dig your hands into his chest as you slowly rock your hips against his, consumed by need.
“What’s gotten into y’ this morning?” he pants out when you pull away, kissing along his neck down to his shoulders, tongue darting out to taste the skin.
“Woke up with you in my bed,” you say, lips dragging against his skin, your words reminiscent of his that first morning in Italy. “Looking this good. Driving me mental.”
“Yeah? Tell me.” he rasps out, hand sliding up into your hair as you start to kiss along his tattoos, stopping amongst your favorites to suck a mark into the skin. “Love hearing what I do t’ you.”
“Just keep remembering how it felt to be wrapped up in your arms yesterday,” you say, lips dragging across his skin. “Felt so nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm, but it’s… nothing compared to how it feels when you grab a hold of me with your hands.” you say, “Know it's archaic but something about you getting possessive gets me so hot.”
“Gets you wet, doesn’t it?” he rumbles out, his hands sliding up and down your body, squeezing at all the right places as you gasp against his skin. “‘S cause I like taking hold of what’s mine.”
You can’t help the moan that escapes you at that, rocking your hips down against his, feeling him get hard for you. His hands slide down to grab your ass, smirking at you when you lock eyes and you just want to wreck him.
“And your tattoos…thought they were so stupid at first,” you say, focusing back on the task at hand as he huffs a laugh, his hand sliding up into your hair and pulling as you bite down on a cluster on his arm, tongue smoothing over the skin. “And now…”
“Now?” he says, his breath coming in a bit more ragged, the audible effect you’re having on him making heat surge through you as you look up at him.
“Wanna get my mouth on all of them.”
A groan punches out of him as he pulls your head back up to his to kiss you deeply. It’s rough and messy from the start, his other hand sliding up your legs to your hips, encouraging their rolls against his. You moan into his mouth as his tongue sweeps over yours. You know you could get lost in this sensation, the way his breath stutters against your mouth when you grind your hips just so, how he pulls a bit harder on your hair when you kiss him deep, the feeling of his big, warm hands on you. But you’re a woman on a mission here.
You pull back slowly, kissing a line down his jaw, hands drawing mindless circles against his chest, feeling the way it’s warming under your touch, the way his heart is racing. You slide down his body, taking the sheet with you as your lips drag against his chest, taking your time to stop and suck a mark on each tattoo that adorns his chest, stopping when you get to the laurels on his hips, lips dancing against his skin as you wrap your hand around his cock, already halfway hard and waiting for you.
He inhales deeply the second your hand makes contact, a hissed “fuck” leaving his lips as you slide further down the bed, settling between his thighs, lips dragging from his hips to kiss a line up his cock. You look up at him as you pump your hand, taking in the flush crawling up his neck, the way his chest is heaving, how he bites at his lip, his hooded eyes never leaving your face.
You kiss the tip, tongue splaying out to take him into your mouth. His head slams back against the pillows, long neck straining as he inhales sharply through his nose. From this angle, you can see your handiwork, the bruises starting to bloom on his skin, proof that you were there. That he’s yours for the taking. The thought makes you moan around his cock as you suck more of him into your mouth, a trail of expletives leaving his mouth at the sensation as his arm falls over his eyes.
You pull off with a louder than intended slurp, keeping your eyes on him as you drag kisses up and down his length.
“Don’t you want to watch me?” you ask, as your tongue darts out to lick along his vein. A groan punches out of his chest as his arm falls to his side, other hand coming up to slide your hair away from your face and stays there, a steady presence on the back of your head, never pushing down, just holding tight.
“Fuck, baby” he grunts out. “Look so good -”
He cuts himself off with a moan as you take him in your mouth again, his blown eyes locking with yours, flitting down to your mouth and back again. You watch him watch you before you have to close your eyes, getting lost in the taste of him, the sounds he’s making, how he feels in your hands, your mouth. Heat sears through you and you can feel how wet you’re getting, just at having him like this, like putty in your hands, every flick of your tongue drawing a new sound out of him.
You keep one hand on him as you close your eyes, working him further down into your mouth, gagging slightly when he hits the back of your throat, his hand tightening in your hair as he grunts, tongue flicking along the vein running up the underside of his cock, other hand falling to gently cup his balls.
“Oh shit - angel, just like that -”
You open your eyes, blinking away the tears, taking him into the back of your throat again just to watch the way his face crumples, flush spreading across his cheeks as he looks back at you, eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them, chest heaving.
You pull off again, tongue flicking up and down his cock as you catch your breath, continuing to pump him as his head falls back to the pillow, mouth open as he pants for air.
“Can y’ get back on me, love? ‘M so close - gonna - yes.” he moans when you take him down once more, sucking hard and pumping your hand once and that’s all it takes for him to shoot off into your mouth, lips tightening as you swallow it down, feeling his eyes on you as you close your eyes and give one final suck, pulling off slowly.
You sit back on your heels, licking your lips before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You hear a soft groan and look up to see his eyes peeking at you from where he had thrown his arm over his head, his chest moving rapidly up and down as he tried to catch his breath. He looks wrecked, something that fills you with pride even as you absolutely ache for him. You shift a bit, able to feel yourself dripping through your underwear as you rub your hands up and down his legs.
“Y’ got me good. Fuck.” he says, making you snort. His arm falls to his side, eyes taking you in fully as he slowly gathers his bearings. “Where did that come from?”
You shrug, squeezing his thigh. “Missed you. Was a long two months”
“Gonna have me leaving more often if that’s how you welcome me home.”
“Noooo,” you say, crawling your way back up his body and planking over him, his dark eyes gazing up at you, the flush on his cheeks not yet faded. You did that. His hand comes up to brush your hair away from your face, his thumb dragging down your cheek. “Please don’t.”
“Not going anywhere, not gonna leave you again,” he says, muttering utter nonsense as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down for a kiss, “C’mere.”
It’s rough and wet from the start, his tongue swiping over yours, moaning the second he can taste himself on your tongue.
“Fuck you’re so fit,” he says, pulling back to kiss any part of your face he could touch as he sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you sit in his lap. He grabs the hem of your shirt, shaking it in frustration, “Get this off.”
You reach down and pull your shirt off, his eyes immediately falling to your chest, hands sliding up your back as he kisses down your chest, one hand squeezing your breast while he sucks your other nipple into his mouth, biting down lightly when you moan. He switches sides, each drag of his tongue hurtling you towards the edge. You’ve been on fire since you first put your mouth on him, feeling closer to your high than ever.
“These too.” he says, hand sliding down to snap the waistband of your underwear, helping you lean back to pull them off, settling you back on his lap once they’re gone.
“Said you liked my tattoos, yeah?” he says, kissing a line down your neck, sucking at the skin as you nod. He pulls back to look at your face, leaning in to kiss you before biting your lip and pulling away, hands squeezing your arse. “Sit on my tiger, love.”
He shifts you onto his thigh, flexing the muscle, both of you moaning when you’re seated. You are soaked, moreso than you thought, and the feeling of his hairy thigh right against your dripping core sends heat down your spine. His hands fall to your hips, encouraging you to roll against him.
“Tha’s it. Ride my thigh, baby.” he says, one hand sliding down to grip at your ass as his lips fall to your neck. “Did y’ like having me in your mouth? Looked like y’ did…feels like y’ did.”
“H, I -” you gasped out, hands digging into his shoulders as you found your rhythm, each drag of your hips sending you closer to the edge. “‘M so wet -”
“Know y’ are, can feel it -” he groans, “Gonna make a mess on me?”
“Fucking - shit.” you moan, one hand sliding up into his hair and pulling at the strands as you grind down hard, stomach twisting as a wave of pleasure rolls through you.
“Feels good, yeah?” he mumbles against your skin, biting down when you gasp. “Y’ can push down a little harder, love - yeah tha’s it, baby. Go after it for me.”
Your mind is hazy, the movement of your hips getting sloppy as you get closer to the edge. You pulled his head up to yours, kissing him deeply, moaning into his mouth when both of his hands slid down to grip your bum, heat flowing through every part of your body as you pant against his lips.
“I’m close - I-”
“C’mon angel, come for me. Soak that tiger -”
“Fuck -” you moan, hands pulling on his hair as you come, feeling him groan against you as you rode out your high. You slump into him once you’re done, breathing heavily onto his neck. He shifts you so you’re sat fully in his lap, hands sliding up your back, rubbing soothing patterns as he kisses along your hairline, mumbling praise into your hair.
He kisses down the side of your face and you pull back to stare at him, both of you smiling when you lock eyes. He holds your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb, pulling you into him as he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls kiss after kiss from you, the two of you getting lost in each other as you come back down to earth.
You pull back slowly, his lips drifting to your cheek, your temple, your nose, as he pulls his head back to look at you, soft smile on his face, light sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Love you,” you whisper.
“Love you so much,” he says, planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth, to your cheek before pulling away, emotion clouding over his face.
“Y’ missed a spot,” he says softly, eyes widening when you thumb at the corner of your mouth. “No - Jesus - i didn’t mean -”
He cuts himself off with a shake of his head, looking down at his lap before looking back at you, his expression almost unreadable. He seems nervous, though you’ve got no clue why. You slide a hand up into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp while he gathers his thoughts.
“Meant with the um, tattoos.” he says, rubbing at his nose with his knuckle as he clears his throat. “Y’ missed one.”
“Pretty sure I got all of them.”
“Nah,” he says with a light shake of his head. “Got a new one.”
“What?!” you say, mouth dropping in shock, both hands immediately grabbing his arm, poring over the countless tattoos to see how you missed one. “Where? Oh shit - am I like, sat on it?”
“Nooo,” he says, laughter punching through his words, though his eyes remain focused on you, soft and full of love, you’re so busy trying to find the new tattoo you’re barely paying attention. “Other arm, love.”
“You barely have any on that arm - how did I miss it?” you say, already grabbing for that other arm, looking up at him when he doesn’t move it towards you.
“‘M mean, it’s quite small and a bit hidden -”
“Oh my god,” you say, swatting at his chest, “Let me see it!”
He slowly lifts his arm up and there, right on his inner bicep, is his new tattoo.
It’s like all the air got sucked out of the room, your eyes hardly believing what they’re seeing, your heart skipping a beat. It’s a single letter, just your first initial like the ones he has for his mum and sister but this one is different…the font is different. It’s - oh.
It’s in your handwriting.
“Know it’s not much -” he starts to say before you blindly cover his mouth with your hand, refusing to take your eyes off the tattoo for one second. He huffs a laugh against your palm, pressing a kiss to it and keeping his mouth shut. His eyes are burning holes in the side of your face but you can’t look away from his arm. From your initial on his arm. A permanent tattoo of your initial on his arm.
There’s no redness, no raised skin, so he must have had it for a while, a thought that sends butterflies through your stomach.
“When did you get this?”
“‘Bout a month ago. Two hours after you called me, give or take.” he says, and you look over at him, the open affection on his face knocking the wind out of you, tears pricking your eyes.
“Is that -” you say, swallowing heavily against the wave of emotion flowing through you, “That’s my handwriting, yeah?”
He nods. “From a birthday card y’ wrote me ages ago. Always loved how you signed your name.”
You just look at him and back at his arm, biting down on your lip. It’s not to say that any of this felt temporary, you had no doubts you were both in this for the long haul, there is just something about the permanence of a tattoo for you on his skin that is making your head whirl in the best possible way.
“D’ you like it?” he asks quietly and you pull your eyes away to face him once again, his thumb coming up to brush away the tears that start to fall from your eyes. “Are y’ crying because it’s ugly and y’ hate it?”
You shake your head, biting at your lip as any words you try to come up with to describe this feeling inside you feel utterly inadequate.
“Know it’s small but I wanted to have something just for me, that only I could see most of th’ time. To remind me of you, to have with me wherever I go.”
“On your skin. Forever.”
“Yeah,” he says, huffing a laugh. “Forever. After that conversation we had … think I’ve always been a bit scared of permanence, feeling trapped in something, always thinking of what else is out there. There’s none of that, with you. No fear. Just feel so bloody excited, to get to be with you and know and love you in this new way.”
“Me too.” you say, heart racing at the smile that grows on his face. “I love the tattoo.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, sliding one hand up into his hair, taking a deep breath, wanting to get this right. You have time to tell him how you feel now. There’s no looming party guests, nothing you’re hiding from, nothing you’re rushing to. It’s you and him, with all the time in the world.
“When I confessed my feelings the first time, felt like I rushed it a bit. Didn’t mean to say it out loud and just told you you’re my favorite person about eight times.”
“No complaints here,” he says, his shining eyes not once drifting away from yours.
“Yeah but I want to say more this time. You are my best friend and my favorite person.” you say, heart fluttering when he smiles so wide his dimple pops out. “And… I’ve spent most of my life loving you and thought I had a pretty good handle on what that felt like, what it meant to be utterly in love with you. But after these last few months… turns out I’ve been barely scratching the surface. I can’t believe the amount of love I feel for you - I’ve never felt like this with anyone before and to have it be with you…not sure there are words for it, really. I think you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”
You see the way your words hit him, tears clouding his eyes as he tightens his mouth in an attempt to hold it all in, looking at you in awe, in love. Nothing but love.
You lean in at the same time, mouths connecting in a sweet kiss, arms holding each other tight, as close as you can possibly be. In disbelief that you’re here, marveling at how far you’ve come from that courtyard, reveling in the feeling of his mouth on yours, his hands sliding over your skin. Thinking back to those two kids dancing together in the school gym, the two 22 year old best friends fighting in the pub for reasons you couldn’t decipher, stares lingering at his mum’s birthday years later for reasons you refused to admit.
The one who tried to be your first kiss when you were thirteen but got too nervous, who held you when your granddad died, who called you from across an ocean when the pressure got too much, who cried in the courtyard when you told him you loved him the night before his wedding, who knocked on your hotel room door at four in the morning to say, “‘m leaving and I want you to come with me.”, the one who made love to you in his bedroom in Italy, the one who held you in your tiny kitchen and made your relationship official, the one who has a tattoo for you on his arm, permanent. Yours. Yours. Yours.
You pull away slowly, wide smiles and tear tracks covering both of your faces, cheeks flushed and eyes full of love. He nudges his nose against yours, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back.
“You and me, yeah?” he whispers, arms holding you so carefully, strongly, tightly.
“Yeah,” you say, leaning in to kiss him again and again and again. “You and me.”
----
a/n: holy fucking shit can we believe it?! man how deeeply i appreciate all of you who have waited this long for this part, i worked on it for months and truly cant believe its here, lots of days felt like it was never going to come together. endless gratitude for everyone who reads and loves them like i do and was nagging me to keep working on it. there is still more of their story to tell that i wasnt possibly going to add on too this 20k saga so ill see u at the epilogue <3. never spent more time on a piece of writing in my life, pleease let me know what you think. ily ily ily.
taglist: @tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen,
#something old#something old part five#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#best friends to lovers#lol can we BELIEVE WE ARE HERE
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It was great to see quite a few of these photographs at Jenna and Dan’s wedding. They had printed them out and displayed them in the guest book. Nothing makes me happier than to see the photos printed. It doesn’t have to be on fancy paper, or be of a great quality (although kudos if they are!) I know some of my most treasured family photos aren’t amazing works of art but they show times I simply wouldn’t have known about otherwise. Photography is magical.
#wedding photography in bristol#pre wedding shoots#best pre wedding photography uk#priston mill wedding photographer#Ice Cave Pre Wedding Shoot#pre wedding shoot#London engagement shoot.#london wedding
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I really am curious about why she looked the way she did when she visited New Zealand House in London. Like she was crying or was at the verge if bursting into tears at any moment. No writers have ever addressed that and I cannot stop being a busybody 😄
This one?
So...the "tea" on this...man do I remember.
On this particular The Queen and Catherine had their first ever engagement with just the two of them. Remember, Meghan had hers within weeks after the wedding (it was said because they were trying to fix the narrative of TQ hating Meghan after the wedding glare went viral).
So The Queen and Catherine were opening the Bush House at King’s College London. Afterwards, Catherine had a solo engagement which was equally important, a visit to the Foundling Museum in London where she made a speech I believe.
But her engagement with The Queen was a BIG DEAL. Such a big deal in fact that it was relayed to the other royals to not schedule an event on this day, except William who had an investiture ceremony.
From the rumors, it is said that Meghan was explicitly told to not pull any shit because at this point it had become more than obvious she was making surprise appearances on the same day Catherine would be having important events. Plus, at the time Meghan was already on maternity leave so the BRF figured that she would actually listen for once...but boy did she not!
So Harry was asked to visit NZ House later in the week to present a wreath/flowers for the Churchill shooting (happened on Friday) and pay his respects. It was supposed to be kind of a casual pop in/pop out thing. But on Tuesday, March 19, 2019 Meghan decided it was the perfect time to pay HER respects.
Now this is where I am fuzzy but I think the details were something along the lines of this:
Meghan tells her assistant she is going to pay her respects. Her assistant advises against it stating that she was told to not do anything on this day and that it was Harry who was asked, not Meghan. Meghan bullies her assistant and demands that preparations are in place for her to leave. Someone calls Harry and informs him of Meghan's plan. Meghan cannot be talked out of said plan. Harry decides he better join as well at least that way he can try and control the situation and be better able to defend her actions.
At some point, I think as they were on their way there, they were contacted by William or maybe a staff member of TQ and were told to not do this. They did it anyways.
Later it was said that TQ had words with Harry in regards to his wife's actions, again.
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The Princess Royal’s Official Engagements in July 2023
01/07 Princess Anne accompanied by Sir Tim, opened the 30th Scottish Traditional Boat Festival at Portsoy Harbour. ⛴️
03/07 As Chancellor of Harper Adams University, visited the University’s Future Farm, Edgmond and met the 2023 Marshal Papworth Foundation Scholars. 👩🎓
As Patron, Scottish Fisheries Museum’s Reaper Appeal visited the Scottish Fisheries Museum in St. Ayles, Anstruther. 🎣
04/07 Visited Strathcarron Hospice, Denny. 👩⚕️
As Colonel-in-Chief of the Intelligence Corps, attended a 5 Military Intelligence Battalion Training Night at the Army Reserve Centre, Edinburgh. 💂
05/07 As part of Holyrood week in Edinburgh, Princess Anne carried out the following engagements;
Opened the Royal Hospital for Children and Young People and the Department of Clinical Neurosciences, at NHS Lothian as part of #NHS75 celebrations. 🧸
Opened King’s Buildings Nucleus Building at the University of Edinburgh. 👩🎓
Launched WETWHEELS EDINBURGH Accessible Boat at Port Edgar Marina. 🦽🛥️
Attended a Dinner at the Waldorf Astoria for Eric Liddell 100 programme. 🍽️
06/07 As President of the UK Fashion and Textile Association, attended the Textile Institute World Conference at the University of Huddersfield. 🪡
Opened Bradford Teaching Hospitals NHS Foundation Trust’s Maternity Theatre at Bradford Royal Infirmary.🤰
As Colonel of The Blues and Royals, with Sir Tim, took the salute at the Household Division Beating Retreat on Horse Guards Parade. 🫡
07/07 Attended a Charity Polo Day at Cirencester Park Polo Club for the Spinal Injuries Association 🐎
11/07 Visited Flintshire Adult Day Care Centre, Hwb Cyfle in Queensferry, Wales. 🏴
HRH, as the new Patron of BASC (British Association for Shooting and Conservation) visited their Headquarters at Marford Mill, Wrexham, Wales. 🦡
12/07 Visited St Helena’s Nursing Campus at the University of Derby in Chesterfield. 👩⚕️
Opened Chesterfield Royal Hospital NHS Foundation Trust’s new Urgent and Emergency Care Department. 🏥
Attended a Reception at Rolls-Royce Learning and Development Centre for the Motor Neurone Association. 🚘
13/07 Sir Tim represented the Princess Royal at a service of thanksgiving for the life of Admiral of the Fleet Lord Boyce at Westminster Abbey. ⚓️
Princess Anne opened the King’s Arch at Government House, visited the Tortoise Takeover Trail at Gorey Castle and subsequently opened the Tortoise Tunnel at Jersey Zoo. 🇯🇪🐢
Princess Anne with Sir Tim, later attended the Royal Academy of Engineering Annual Awards Dinner at the Londoner Hotel in Leicester Square, London. 🏆
14/07 Opened the new Southampton Citizens Advice Bureau and visited DP World Shipping Container Terminal. ⛴️
15/07 As Colonel-in-Chief of the Intelligence Corps, attended their Annual Corps Day at Chicksands. 🪖
18/07 Princess Anne and Sir Tim carried out the following engagements in Kent;
Opened a new affordable housing development at Bartlett Close, Staple, Canterbury, followed by a Reception at Staple Village Hall. 🏡
Visited St James’s Cemetery in Dover in her role as Patron of the Remembrance Trust 🫡
Visited Folkestone National Coastguard Institution Station in Folkestone to mark its 25th Anniversary, followed by a Reception at Folkestone Yacht and Motorboat Club. 🚨
19/07 In South Wales, visited Barry Citizens Advice Bureaux in her role of Patron of the National Association of Citizens Advice Bureaux and later visited HM Prison Cardiff in her role of Patron of the Butler Trust. 🏴
20/07 Joined the ship’s company of HMS Albion and visited Clyde Marina near Glasgow, Scotland. 🏴
21/07 Princess Anne and Sir Tim attended a Dinner at the Royal Ocean Racing Club Clubhouse, to celebrate the 50th Edition of the Fastnet Race in Cowes, Isle of Wight. 🛥️
27/07 Attended the Tall Ships Races Captains’ Dinner at Lerwick Town Hall, Lerwick, Shetland Islands. 👨✈️🍽️
28/07 Visited ships in Lerwick Harbour taking part in the Tall Ships Races. 🚢🏁
29/07 With Sir Tim, attended the King George Day at Ascot Racecourse. 🏆🐎
30/07 Princess Anne and Sir Tim visited Cowes, Isle of Wight for Cowes Week and carried out the following engagements;
Viewed Cowes Week Racing and met Squadron Staff at the Royal Yacht Squadron. 🛥️
Visited HMS Tyne and The Royal Navy Stand. ⛴️
Attended a Church Service at Holy Trinity Church. ⛪️
Attended a Reception for Members, Racing Crews, Flag Officers and Sailing Associates at the Royal Yacht Squadron. 🥂
Total official engagements for Anne in July: 42
2023 total so far: 304
Total official engagements accompanied by Tim in July: 14
2023 total so far: 70
#hardest working royal 🫡#no choice but to stanne#this is based on the court circular#monthly engagement count#july 2023#and yes i’m doing a separate count for tim too#because i’m rooting for…#operation working royal tim 🫡#STILL WAITING CHARLES…#not all engagements are listed on this post#if you want a full list plz dm me 💕#princess anne#princess royal#tim laurence#timothy laurence
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The Boer War (1899-1902)
If the 1897 Diamond Jubilee is seen as the zenith of the British Empire, the Boer War is arguably the start of its collapse.
There are two conflicts with the name "Boer War", of which the second is by far the better known.
"Boer" is Afrikaans for farmer. The two wars are known as "the Freedom Wars" in the Afrikaans language and "the South African War" in the country itself.
More specifically, the Boers were Dutch farmers who emigrated from the Dutch and then British-controlled Cape Colony north and east into the Transvaal region that is now north-east South Africa, to get away from what they saw as an oppressive government. As well as the fact that the British abolished slavery, which they wanted to keep. So yeah. They were more specifically known as "Trekboers" or travelling farmers. Trek is of course where we get the term Star Trek from.
The first conflict from 1880-1881 started after a farmer refused to pay an illegally inflated tax, had his wagon seized - and his friends then assaulted the auction.
The Boers, better equipped, better trained and far more experienced at shooting than their British opponents, managed to defeat the latter in three major engagements. Unwilling to become engaged in a major conflict, London negotiated a peace deal that gave the South African Republic effectively full control over internal affairs, although the British retained control of external relations. This was the first time the British had lost a war to rebels since the American War of Independence.
Then gold was found in the region and an influx of immigrants, mostly British, turned up, seeking their fortune. Johannesburg emerged as a major community overnight. This caused a lot of tensions, even more so when the government in Praetoria (the SAR capital) denied the 'uitlanders' civil rights.
In 1896, Cape Colony Prime Minister Cecil Rhodes authorised Leander Starr Jameson to conduct a raid into the territory with the aim of triggering a revolution. The raid was badly botched, failed and caused massive embarrassment to the British government, especially when Kaiser Wilhelm II sent a congratulatory telegram to the SAR government... and telegrams showing Rhodes' involvement were found. Jameson, while lionised in the press, spent 15 months in Holloway for the raid.
Shortly after this, the Second Matabele War saw the British have to deal with an uprising by the Ndebele and Shona peoples in what is now Zimbabwe. They defeated it, but with many losses on both sides.
Tensions between the British and the Boers continued to grow after the Jameson Raid; the uitlanders did not see their rights improve, the Boers mistreated the African population, and a lot of the British establishment thought it would be an easy victory. The generals, for their part, did not.
The SAR had acquired high quality weaponry from Germany and France, including bolt-action Mauser rifles. The British Army for its part was in dire need of reform.
The war broke out in 1899 after an ultimatum from SAR leader Paul Kruger for the British to withdraw their forces from the border. The SAR had allied with the Orange Free State by this point.
The Boers had formed civilian militias called "commandos". They launched an invasion of the Natal and Cape Colony, soon putting British garrisons under siege. One notable such siege was at Mafeking, where the British commander was one Robert Baden-Powell, whose use of scouting, along the deception to make his defences look better than they were allowed his force to hold out for 217 days until relieved. He would later use his experience in scouting to form, well, the Scouting Movement.
After a series of major reverses, it was clear the British were going to need to send major reinforcements, recruiting a lot of volunteers - the biggest overseas force Britain had sent to date. They also removed their local commanders and put new ones in.
The sieges were lifted and Praetoria was captured on 5 June 1900 - at which point the Boers (along with foreign volunteers) moved to guerilla warfare, something that they were very adept at, in stark contrast to the British. However, harassment is not the same as taking and holding ground.
Both forces tried to minimise the involvement of people of colour due to fear of what would happen if they armed Africans, but personnel shortages meant they ended up being involved anyway, usually in supporting roles. Mahatma Gandhi, who was a civil rights activist there, formed a corps of volunteer stretcher bearers from the Indian population.
Realising that they were only controlling the territory that they were physically in, the British changed their tactics.
Firstly, they built fortified blockhouses and armoured trains to control their supply routes.
Secondly, the British adopted a "scorched earth" policy; they rounded up Boer and African civilians, placing them in concentration camps, while also systematically destroying farms, crops etc. that the Boer forces could use to supply themselves.
The Spanish had used concentration camps in Cuba earlier in the 19th century, but this was a much wider use. With little or no soap, along with dirty water, disease swept through the overcrowded camps, with over 46,000 dying in them, including a quarter of the Boers in them - African numbers interned were not properly counted. Emily Hobhouse exposed the horrific conditions, and the matter was taken up by domestic politicians. A government commission led by Millicent Fawcett then recommended major improvements, which were largely implemented and brought down the death rate, but the damage had been done by this point.
The brutal tactics were sadly effective; the Boers were beginning to give up. However, the British themselves were running out of time and money, so gave them a generous settlement in the 1902 Treaty of Vereeniging; while the SAR and Orange Free State would be absorbed into the British Empire, Dutch could be used in schools and courts, there would be a general amnesty and reconstruction aid would be given.
Self-government was also promised and granted; it was decided that the issue of black enfranchisement would not be discussed until then - and full enfranchisement would not come until 1993.
The war was controversial in the UK; it was opposed by the opposition Liberal Party. Lord Salisbury called a snap election in 1900 and won with a slightly reduced majority. The next election in 1906 was a massive defeat for them though.
The conflict also exposed the dire state of British public health - with up to 40% of volunteers for the war being rejected on health grounds. This spurred the creation of the National Insurance system.
Arthur Conan Doyle volunteered for military service in the conflict; but was turned down due to his age. Instead, he served for three months in a field hospital and then wrote two books about the conflict. The second one, defending Britain's involvement in the war, was felt by Doyle to be the work that got him his knighthood in 1902.
The war was also notable for one journalist who after being captured by the South Africans, managed to escape from behind enemy lines, using the publicity to get into Parliament on his second attempt. His name was Winston Churchill.
At 2022 values, the war cost Britain over £19.9 billion.
They had also had 26,092 soldiers killed to the Boers 6,189. As with all wars at this time, disease was the biggest killer.
#letters from watson#sherlock holmes#history#factoids#the boer war#the blanched soldier#blan#acd canon
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Forgive me if this is self indulgent and sappy, but I just wanted to share some serious personal appreciation for RJ City, more under the cut. I got into wrestling by being invited by a close friend to watch AEW with them, and one of the first major reactions I had after thinking I could get heavily invested in it was to see RJ City and yell "GILDAR??" at an alarming volume.
At the All In welcome event in London, I chatted with people in the queue about how I wasn't allowed to watch wrestling when I was younger but I loved Splatalot and how excited I was to find out my favourite defender was the dashing host with the most for AEW. So many people in the wrestling community have fond memories of growing up watching the Hardys, Punk, Sting etc. For me I didn't have that but I did make sure I was sat in front of the TV for every episode of Splatalot and being around 13/14 it was one of the very last things I felt able to enjoy wholeheartedly in the way you love things before you're told you're "too old" to be so openly enthusiastic. At one point at a friend's house we tried to dress up as our favourite defenders, I may not have had the rippling muscles or quick wit but I had long dark hair and access to eyeliner so that was good enough for me to get my Gildar on, we threw tennis balls around her living room until we were forced to stop (sorry to Katie's mum and her Galileo thermometer, a casualty of our enthusiasm). Although it probably wasn't considered very cool to be doing that as a teenager, I remember laughing until we had stitches and talking about the previous day's episode on the hour long walk to school, I was thrilled to see a familiar face when I started my journey into being a wrestling fan. It was like showing up alone to a party where you expected not to know anyone and being terrified about if you'd fit in, then being pleasantly surprised and relieved to see an old acquaintance standing by the punch bowl.
Nostalgia goggles can make for disappointment when you revisit things through the eyes of an adult but watching RJ's work with AEW, he was even funnier and more engaging than I remembered, his hair more lustrous, and he had a magical ability to play off literally anyone you put him with. Watching Hey! EW became my favourite way to learn about the people on the roster as a new fan, and it became routine to tune in to RJ Makes Coffee In His Underwear. As I branched out further I found his work with Olde Wrestling was delightful, and if you haven't seen RJ City: Wrestling Raconteur I highly recommend it. The recently uploaded David Arquette Got Me A Talk Show is also a blast and well worth a watch! He's been a huge part of one of the most engaging storylines in AEW right now with Toni Storm and his increasingly frequent appearances on TV have been delighting me to no end.
I've had friends say to me that if RJ City was a real place, I'd own a vacation home there and I'm only half sure they were joking. When All In at Wembley was announced and discussion started about who'd be on the card, the first thing I said to a friend was "RJ better be there" and when I got to the All In welcome event I was more excited to see RJ on stage than anyone else at the event, I have the messages to friends to prove it:
When he mentioned Splatalot on stage at the welcome event I popped HARD and after getting back from All In, I decided to shoot my shot (not really expecting much because y'know maybe he doesn't want to be associated with a show he did years ago when he's got so many more current and impressive career things going on? He's currently crushing it with Hey! EW and Timeless Toni so maybe he doesn't want people messaging him about his stint as a handsome viking)
Not only was he willing to help, he really went above and beyond despite a (presumably) very busy schedule and was a total sweetheart about the whole thing and even threw in some stickers! I now have to get a frame to display this in a suitably prominent place on my wall
So thank you RJ City, for being even cooler than 14 year old Rowan thought you were (also I was right about you being the best defender, Gildar > Thorne my sister can go suck eggs)
#if you made it to the end of this: congratulations!#anyway everyone cheer and clap for rj city he deserves it (and an all elite graphic)#RJ City#Rowan's Rasslin Thoughts
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I'm so confused about the number 28. Why is it such an important number for Taylor, Harry, Louis and Joe? I saw a picture of Louis with the 28 tattoo, and it got me thinking about the number 28.
The 28th is a lesson in how fandoms don't know what they are talking about and fill the blanks with assumptions. In that vein though here's my storytime. It means something different to everyone you listed:
Louis’s lucky number is 28. He had 28 a set of 1D inner ears, wore a 28 jersey, so has a 28 tattoo. His house number in Back to You Mv is 28. Liam said it was a house number, this report said that he said it was a jersey.
For Harry and Taylor It’s the 28 September rather than number. They were both MIA on that date 2012. Taylor was in Paris to shoot the Begin Again MV and the next week they were first seen together and Taylor said she had a good looking boyfriend. On 28 September 2013 Harry tweeted Joni Mitchell lyrics about commitment without marriage, (Zayn was recently engaged). Larries larried and decided it was a sign that Harry (who was gambling alone) ?married? Louis (who was unwell) in Australia, (where it was illegal at the time), with no loved ones present. There’s a post about marking that anniversary here.
For Joe, I think the number/date has no meaning at all. Or was an annual reminder about Haylor. On 28 September 2016 Taylor was with Cara in NY and Joe was in London until at least October 4. He came to NY a week later and their anniversary would have been sometime after 12 October when he came to NY. Based on the Lover Journal 3 January 17 that said they had been together for 3 months. In 2018, Taylor changed the lyric in her September cover to the 28th September, presumably for Harry. The Spotify press release for it originally said it was "especially meaningful to one of her relationships" which was later edited out. Swifties felt so inspired by Larries that they ran with it and decided they knew Taylor & Joes anniversary.
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By: Andrew Doyle
Published: Apr 8, 2024
One of my shortest-lived jobs was as a teacher at a school for girls near Sloane Square in London. I resigned after just two weeks because the headmistress was a religious zealot who had objected to me teaching a text which featured a gay character. In my resignation letter, I explained that I wasn’t prepared to work at a school which fostered such antediluvian attitudes. I stayed on to finish the term, but was delighted when I eventually made my escape.
I had previously worked at a boys’ school, and I soon noticed that there were some broad differences that manifested in an all-female environment. One of the most concerning was that many of the girls were engaged in what can only be described as competitive starvation. During lunch duties, I was warned to keep an eye out for pupils who had taken just a single lettuce leaf from the salad bar. If I saw any girl doing so, I was told I must immediately intercept her and demand that she return and fill her plate.
My first teaching post had been at a co-ed school in which cutting one’s own skin was the fashion. We even had a visiting expert telling us how to encourage these pupils to hold ice cubes in their hands until they felt shooting pains as a substitute for the razor. I remember at the time thinking that this wasn’t the best advice, but I was too green to raise an objection. Besides, this speaker had spent a considerable part of the session reminiscing about a shepherd she had once counselled who had, over the course of many months on the hillside, used a sharp wire to whittle his penis so that it eventually became forked. To this day, I am none the wiser as to the purpose of this anecdote.
But the shift from cutting to starvation was striking. At the former school, pupils were not refraining from food, and at the latter there were very few who were injuring themselves with blades. It was almost as though only one form of self-harm could predominate at any given time. And when a small group started doing it, the trend spread with remarkable rapidity. I hadn’t seen an equivalent back when I was teaching boys.
I have since learned that social contagions are especially common among teenage girls, and that there are numerous historical precedents for this. I have written elsewhere about the Salem witch trials of 1692-93, in which a group of girls began seeing demons in the shadows and accusing members of their own community of being in league with the Devil. Then there were the various “dancing plagues” of the middle ages which seemed to impact young women in particular. In 1892, girls at a school in Germany began to involuntarily shake their hands whenever they performed writing exercises. And when I visited Sweden last year, I was told about a local village where, during the medieval period, the girls all inexplicably began to limp.
It's perfectly clear that the latest social contagion to take hold in the western world is that of girls identifying out of their femaleness, either through claims that they are trans or non-binary. Whereas in 2012, there were only 250 referrals (mostly boys) to the NHS’s Gender Identity Development Service (GIDS), by 2021 the figure had risen to more than 5,000 (mostly female) patients. Gender activists like to claim that this is simply the consequence of more people “coming out” as society becomes more tolerant, and at the same time insist that it has never been a worse time to be trans. Consistency is not their strong suit.
Of course there are no easy answers as to the explosion of this latest fad, but surely the proliferation of social media has something to do with it. Platforms such as TikTok are replete with activists explaining to teenagers that their feelings of confusion are probably evidence that they have been “born in the wrong body”. For pubescent girls who are uncomfortable with their physiological changes, as well as sudden unwanted male sexual attention, the prospect of identifying out of womanhood makes complete sense. These online pedlars have some snake-oil to sell. And while a limping epidemic in a medieval village would be unlikely to spread very far, social contagions cannot be so confined in the digital age.
Much of this is reminiscent of the recovered memory hysteria of the late twentieth-century, when therapist cranks promoted the idea that most victims of sexual abuse had repressed their traumatic memories from childhood. It led to numerous cases of people imagining that they had been abused by parents and other family members, and many lives were ruined as a result. One of the key texts in this movement was The Courage to Heal (1988) by Ellen Bass and Laura Davis, which made the astonishing and unevidenced claim that “if you are unable to remember any specific instances… but still have a feeling that something abusive happened to you, it probably did”.
A common feature of social contagions is that they depend upon the elevation of intuition over material reality. Just as innocent family members were accused of sexual abuse because of “feelings” teased out by unscrupulous therapists, many girls are now being urged by online influencers to trust the evidence of their emotions and accept a misalignment between their body and their gendered soul. We are not talking here about the handful of children who suffer from gender dysphoria, but rather healthy children who have been swept up in a temporary craze.
Activists have been quick to demonise the entire notion of “social contagion” as a “transphobic talking point”, but the evidence for it is now indisputable. The review into paediatric gender treatment by Dame Hilary Cass is due to be published this Wednesday, and is likely to include recommendations that schools stop the “social transitioning” of children. The interim review had already pointed out that enabling pupils to adopt alternative names, pronouns and dress codes was “not a neutral act”. And there is mounting evidence that such an approach consolidates a child’s psychological conceptualisation of herself as a member of the opposite sex. While social transitioning is seen as compassionate, in reality is causes long-term harm.
It would seem that teenage girls will always be prone to these social contagions, but some are more damaging than others. Whereas limping and dancing and trembling can be overcome, the lifelong impact of puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones and surgery will not be so transient. Let’s hope this particular hysteria soon goes the way of all the others.
#Andrew Doyle#gender identity#social contagion#mass psychogenic illness#hysteria#mass hysteria#born in the wrong body#metaphysics#gender thetans#gendered souls#religion is a mental illness
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