Tumgik
#let me know ur thoughts!
wttcsms · 1 month
Text
with the limited time i have to work on writing, there are just certain fics that i like more than others lol, and it'll show bc you'll actually see that i put thought and care into the writing and the overall story telling & i just wanted to share some of the fics i've been working on that i personally feel like will showcase my most thoughtful writing:
of course, daylight is at the top of the list. probably going to be the longest piece i write (at least 150k words upon completion), there was just a lot of time spent in figuring out the themes and characterization and handling tough conversations & it is something i am most proud of.
the royal au war general x scholar's daughter concept is most likely going to be given to nanami & i really love the juxtaposition of their roles in the relationship. so we have the hardened war general who just wants peace and solitude, and we have this lovely young woman and she is trying to figure out her standing in this world, and she's incredibly intelligent and insightful but there's an underlying naïveté due to her youth (compared to the general) & there's a lot of push and pull b because she is certain that he is what she wants and he has these ideas of being "moral" and "doing the just thing" which is trying to put a stop to her advances, but it's hard because he is in need of this companionship, she (reader) is the sweetest thing, the gentlest/most healing presence in his life, so is it really worth destroying her hopes and dreams and his sanity all in some "noble" attempt for her to find someone "better"?
similarly, soldier honorably discharged and struggling to acclimate to civilian life. this touches much more on trauma and grief; how grief doesn't go away entirely, and how past experiences still impact our lives well down the road into the future but how it doesn't have to be our worst defining trait. i've discussed a scene that i really love with a friend, and it's essentially how on the battlefield, this soldier knows that you don't leave your comrade behind. and it's an innocent scene where you (the mother of his children) are calling your kids to get out of the backyard and come inside the house, and the youngest daughter trips and falls, shouts out "wait for me!" but her older sister turns around, looks at her, and then continues onwards to back home. and the soldier (this is well into the future, so some people would assume "oh he should be over his trauma, over his memories on the battlefield) raises his voice inside the house for one of the first times ever. and he's staring at his daughter, and is like "why would you do that, why would you leave her behind, you don’t leave her behind"
10 notes · View notes
pinemotel · 1 year
Text
My ocs Ellis and Tick!
Tumblr media
Oke so for a story I'm making a had the idea of making like a subclass species of borrower called a burglar.
Here im just going to cover a few differences between the two!
Borrowers are more mouse like, while Burglars are more cat/rat like.
Borrowers are around 3 inches tall, while Burglars range about 4-5 inches tall.
Additional features for Burglars include cat like eyes, sharp fangs and claws, and pointed ears.
Borrowers like to create tools to help them navigate the world like climbing hooks, backpacks, ect. They have a more modern or humanized way of doing things.
Meanwhile, Burglars are more feral. They use their needle sharp claws to climb surfaces and dig holes. They rely on their physical abilities and behave more like animals.
This behavior extends into their living quarters. Borrower dwellings are nicely decorated and feel like a little home. While Burglars like to make nests and collect shiny things. Their homes can be confused for a rats nest.
Borrowers are often afraid of Burglars as they can be aggressive. (Though these two made an unlikely friendship)
((Also lil note, sometimes Burglars can be confused for tiny kittens))
33 notes · View notes
videnoirs · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
12 days !!! 🏳️‍⚧️ 🐻
11 notes · View notes
skullrock · 2 years
Note
definitely can’t afford to buy a bracelet right now but maxine mayfield, vecna-escaper extraordinaire would be cool to see 👀
no worries millie!!!
Tumblr media
for max - made with golden amber, carnelian, and goldstone 🧡
20 notes · View notes
twinkskeletons · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
some stardust pin ideas :3
363 notes · View notes
astrum99 · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Righteous Hand of The Father
What Were You Made For?
95 notes · View notes
truth-01001001-liar · 4 months
Text
Can we talk about the fact that Nerevar probably sucked just as much as the Sharmat? ‘Cause personally I think the comparisons that can be drawn between Nerevar and Dagoth Ur are kind of interesting. I like them as reflections of each other. I like their rule as hard to tell apart.
They both want the people who they don’t think should be in their homeland out of it. Between the Nords and the Dwemer for Nerevar, and the Imperials and other outlanders for Dagoth I feel that’s a clear similarity.
They’re both killed by the people they love/trust—whatever you want to call those relationships— because they are both oblivious to their wrongdoings and to noticing if they’ve happened to antagonize someone they care for.
They are also both charismatic. They are both capable of convincing people to follow them with just their words.
Now…maybe they could be different for why people follow them, but I don’t think they are.
On the one hand Dagoth Ur relies on his dreams and corpus to bring people under his rule. Which most people, I feel, would probably consider to be against their will.
….. but can we talk about the fact that Moon-and-Star (the ring) is Nerevar’s corpus and dreams? Like it basically functions the same way. It’s a psychological manipulation tactic, right? Maybe a more socially acceptable one in his society, but a manipulation tactic nonetheless. It is capable of making someone swear loyalty to something they otherwise may not have. Like.. if he didn’t have that ring, it could be a very real possibility that absolutely no one would have paid him any mind. He would’ve never been the Hortator, and maybe never even remotely notable.
Like .. I just… yeah. I… gods forbid the nerverine know who they are, and look at Dagoth and see a mirror—do you know what I mean?
(sorry this has been rotating in my mind for over an hour now, so I figured I’d make a post about it >:333 )
114 notes · View notes
lestappenreads · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Just Vibing
Charles Leclerc hates his boyfriend. Cannot stand him. He has no idea how he let his boyfriend talk him into this– technically, it had been Charles’ idea, but Max had been the one to actually start to execute it– semantics weren’t important right now. What was important was the fact Charles was on the couch during this press conference fighting for his life and his boyfriend was sitting on the other end, staring at him with a shit eating grin while he tortured Charles.
Or; the one where Charles and Max experiment with remote controlled vibrators.
Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen | E Rated | Read On AO3
84 notes · View notes
dollfaceksj · 9 months
Note
YES CONTINUE A POSION PARADISE
YERRRRR lets go
tell me ur thoughts! <3
taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #4
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
masterlist
<- previous ; next ->
it’s jimin’s party today
[a/n: i been obsessed w this outfit so i imagine reader wearing sth like this cause its so cute idc if u dont like it]
you go there by foot bc it’s not that far, like a 10 min walk
your feet in these heels are killing you but it doesn’t matter when you look that good
once you arrive, jimin pulls you in for a hug, thanking you for coming
ur not THATTT close w jimin, ur closer w joon and tae
but ur still on friendly terms w jimin
at least way friendlier than jk
its not awkward between u and jimin and u often talk abt ur love for cats and pop culture
unlike u and jk. u can count the amount of convos u’ve had with that loser on one hand and half of those were this month
jimin leads you to taehyung and unfortunately
jungkook is sitting
right beside tae
jk’s wearing a leather jacket and black jeans. his hair is wavy and there are silver rings decorating his pretty fingers
you haven’t seen them since that evening at tae’s and it’s been 3 days since
tae texted u a couple times but ur replies were pretty short to him
and u feel kinda bad
cause its not taes fault??
but ur stubborn. and stupid
tae hands jungkook his solo cup and jumps up from the couch, lunging straight at you
he hugs you tightly, swaying with you from left to right
“i’m glad you made it! all these people are boring,” taehyung says into your ear, squeezing your frame
you chuckle and pull away, hitting his shoulder
he holds you back by your shoulders. “you look good. you came to break hearts.” he nudges your hip with his
he’s soooo annoying
but the compliment is rising to your head
your relationship w tae is like a brother or cousin
he’ll only tell you you look good if you actually look good
and he’ll tell you if you look like shit
“come, sit with us,” he says as he makes some extra space on the couch. he takes the seat next to jungkook
thats when you remember that jungkook is here.
you pretend you don’t notice him though
and he seems to be doing the same thing
asshole.
you don’t really feel like drinking tonight so you decline tae’s offer of getting you something to drink
you spend the next twenty minutes listening to tipsy taehyung rambling about his call of duty wins
yawn
you get up and tae instantly tugs on your wrist
“where u going?”
you sigh. “bathroom. i’ll be right back.”
he nods and lets go of your wrist, turning to jungkook to continue his uninteresting conversation
you push your way through the sea of sweaty and smelly bodies
there’s a pair making out in front of the bathroom door so you push past them as well and enter the bathroom
you lock the door and take care of your business
you wash your hands and glance at yourself in the mirror, fixing your makeup a bit before turning on your heels and unlocking the door
just as you unlock the door, the door swings open
uhh
you did not do that
like u did not open the door it just swung open on its own.
in that split second you think it’s someone who desperately needs to use the bathroom
but your heart drops straight into your ass when you make eyecontact
with
jeon
jung
fucking
kook
THE FUCKKK
you can’t even understand what’s happening
you can barely react
when jungkook
suddenly
and gently
pushes you back into the bathroom by your waist
his hands are respectfully placed but it still sends a shiver up your spine and down all your limbs
haha
wow
😂😂😂😂
jungkooks hands on your waist for a few seconds
who wouldve thought
he walks in and shuts the door behind him
and you know you’re not going crazy but was that… the click
of
the
door
locking????
did he just? lock the door??
you look up at him, lips parted but not a single word on your tongue for him
he leans against the closed door and shoves his hands into his pockets
you frown at him, confused on why he’s trapping you in the bathroom
“what the hell, dude?” your annoyance is clear in the tone of your voice
cause what the HELL jungkook???
“i couldn’t find any other proper moment to come talk to you,” he says but you can’t bring yourself to believe him when he’s got a shit-eating grin on his lips
you roll your tongue against the inside of your cheek and cross your arms over your chest. “talk?”
what could he possibly want to talk about with you???
“yeah. i said i didn’t like you but i hope you know it was a joke. i’m sorry it didn’t come across that way.”
you drag your eyes slowly down his figure, hoping you look like you’re judging the fuck out of him
but he doesn’t react
in
the
slightest
“is that all?” you ask as you make eye contact with him again.
he stares at you for a moment longer before pushing himself off the door, closing the distance between you two
you automatically take a step back but your bum is already pressed against the sink, leaving you with nowhere to go
fuck
FUCK
why is he getting closer still
he stops right in front of you, tips of his shoes touching yours
body menacingly looming over yours, making you tilt your chin to look up at him
he stares you down, tongue playing with the double lip rings in the corner of his bottom lip
fuck he’s hot
like fuck. he’s so hot
he says, “tae was right, you know.”
you scrunch your brows together and struggle to find your voice. you compose yourself quickly though
“about?”
he answers right away. “you look real fucking good.”
ah
hahahahahah
hahahahahahahahahahahaha
😂😂😂😂😂😂
right right
😂😂😂😂
so funny.
his voice is so sultry and the way he’s staring you down like he’s enjoying the view. like he wants to devour you whole
it almost makes your knees buckle
GIRL GET IT TOGETHER
he’s literally your junior be serious
you try to stand your ground
no you HAVE to
the fuck you look like being weak in front of this little shit
“thanks. anything else?”
wowww bitchy much?
he stares at you for a moment longer before shaking his head. “nope.”
“good. get out of my way then.” you wave your fingers back and forth to tell him to get lost
he chuckles and steps aside, watching as you push past him and leave him to stare at your retreating ass
you make your way back to where tae was but he’s gone
of course he is
you look around the room, annoyed with all the people dancing and shoving up against you
all of a sudden, a hand on your shoulder makes you slightly jump
you turn and see tae
PHEWWW thought u were gonna get harassed or something
“y/n, you haven’t drank anything yet, right?” he slurs his words and you roll your eyes
this can only mean he wants you to do something
“jungkook wants to go home but he has a speaker jimin really wants. do you mind walking home with him and bringing the speaker back with you?”
what
literally what😭
“please?” he says as soon as he sees the doubt on your face
you sigh, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. “i can’t believe you’re asking me to do that.”
he frowns. “what? i’ve asked you to come to my place at night too.”
“i’m not talking about walking at night, i’m talking about making me go with jungkook.”
“he hasn’t apologized yet?”
huh
how’d he know jk was going to apologize?
“how do you know he wanted to apologize?”
“because it’s jungkook.” he rubs his nose and looks around before looking back at you. “have you ever seen him at a party before? he came to this party just to apologize to you cause he knew you’d come and he wouldn’t have another opportunity. that’s why he’s already leaving despite only having been here for like half an hour.”
you don’t know if that’s just tae being drunk or if he’s actually telling you the truth
bc why
why is that
so
sweet?
were you being dramatic? 😭😭
for being mean to him??
over something so silly
u kinda were lowkey babes.
you sigh softly.
“alright.”
to be continued
<- previous ; next ->
— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡
— follow me on twitter for free exclusive content like sneak peeks, scrapped content, brain storming and to better interact with me ♧♡
— 🍀
taglist link
@joonwater @purp13st4r @bbtsficrecs @whoa-jo @hoseokieswrld @111vicky @jj.uchiha @ellesalazar @etaerealboyv @kissyfacekoo @casual-death @xenkimmie
258 notes · View notes
didhewinkback · 1 year
Text
Something Old: Part Three
Tumblr media
word count: 13k (jesus); story page
warnings: smut, google translate italian
-----
Fingertips dragged up and down your spine as you were slowly roused from sleep. You blinked your eyes open, momentarily disoriented by the darkness of the unfamiliar bedroom until a tattooed arm wound around your waist, squeezing tight.
So it wasn’t a dream. You really were here, in Italy, with your best mate who feels the same way you do. You think. He hadn’t exactly said the same three words you said, but you really couldn’t be nitpicky when he did in fact call off his wedding for you. And spent all day kissing you like his life depended on it. And was now holding you, in his bed, so tight against his chest, planting kisses along your neck.
“Sorry for waking you up,” he said, mouth dragging against the skin of your neck, “Got bored.”
He plants his hand on your hip and squeezes, guiding you to turn over and face him. And his shirtless body. He was definitely wearing a shirt when you fell asleep.
He smirks when he notices you ogling him, puffy eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say, burrowing your head a bit deeper into the pillows as you rest your fingertips against his chest.
His naked chest.
You can’t quite explain the breakdown of the boundaries between you. Why it’s happening so quickly, why it feels so natural. You’ve never touched him like this, never had the freedom to do so, and yet you don’t want to stop or question it as you splay your palm against his pecs, reveling in his sharp inhale. You’re at war with yourself, simultaneously desperate to apply logic to this, to stop and think it through, talk it out while also desperate to just lean in to what feels good and enjoy it, this magic between the two of you that you’ve dreamt of for most of your life.
“You always think this hard when you just wake up?”
You huff a laugh, shaking your head as you rub your thumb back and forth on his chest, his head dipping down to track the movement, “What happened to your shirt?”
“Got hot.” he shrugs, hand tightening on your hip.
“Mmmm. I’ll say.”
He snorts, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him, leaning his head in to rest against your neck, breathing in.
“What time is it?”, you ask.
“Bout half past 8.”
“We are fucked if we try to get any sleep tonight,” you groan.
“I dunno, love,” he says, planting a line of kisses up to your cheek, lips dragging against the skin as he says, “Can think of a couple of things that would tire us out.”
“Oh, great,” you say, breath hitching as he continues to kiss a line across your jaw, your nails scratching on his chest, “I always dreamt that our first time would put me right to sleep.”
He hums against your skin. “So you’ve dreamt about our first time?”
“No comment.” you say, a bit breathlessly as he huffs a laugh, littering soft kisses along your throat before pulling away.
He smiles at you, his eyes puffy from sleep as his hand falls to your cheek, brushing your hair away from your face.
“Realized I never fed you,” he says softly.
“Shit host.”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling as his fingers find their place along the back of your neck, squeezing gently. “One of my favorite places in town is still open this time of year. It’s about a fifteen minute walk if you want to go grab some dinner.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” you say teasingly, breath catching in your throat when he doesn’t take the bait. Instead he just stares at you, lips slightly quirking up as he brushes his thumb along your cheek.
“Yeah,” he says, hand falling to where your hand rests on his chest, turning it over so you're are palm to palm. He squeezes once before bringing your hand to his lips, murmuring against it, “Will you go on a date with me?”
You squeeze his hand, his smile growing when your own grin matches his.
“Never thought I’d ever hear you ask me that,” you say softly, not trusting your voice at a louder volume, feeling overwhelmed by his words and warm gaze.
He squeezes your hand, taking a deep breath,“I never thought I'd ever get the courage to ask.”
“Harry,” your voice comes out as a whisper.
“I know, I know.” he says, leaning in. “C’mere.”
He presses his lips to yours, sucking lightly at your lower lip before pulling back, resting his forehead against yours.
“‘S that a yes?” he asks.
“Yes. Please.” He cuts you off with a kiss before you can even get the words out, pressing his lips to yours over and over, bringing his hand back up to rest at the back of your neck.
“Thank you,” he says, pulling back to whisper against your lips, “for saying yes.”
He’s looking at you so intently, with such reverence in his eyes that you have a feeling he’s not just thanking you for agreeing to dinner but for this trip, for all of it. You squeeze his hand.
“Thank you,” you whisper back, “for asking.”
His eyes study your features for a moment, hand squeezing your hand once more. He’s about to say something, his eyes clouding over before seemingly deciding against it, inhaling sharply as he shakes his head slightly and presses his lips to yours once more. He swipes his tongue along the seam of your lips, fingers tightening on your neck when you open your mouth, moaning when his tongue brushes across yours.
Heat flares through your body, you can’t stop to think about what he was about to say, too busy being distracted by how hard he is kissing you, every swipe of tongue full of intent, his hands pulling you impossibly closer.
Your hand falls back to his chest, sliding down towards his abs. You splay your palm on the butterfly tattoo, nails digging in when he groans. You can barely catch your breath as he overwhelms all of your senses at once. His taste, his touch, his smell. He’s everywhere. You’ve never needed anyone this badly in your life.
His hand slides down your body, pausing at your hip as he squeezes once and guides you towards him, shifting on the bed to lay back down and pull you on top of him. Yes, yes -
The sound of your stomach growling stops you both in your tracks. It’s honestly the loudest and longest growl your stomach has ever made in its life. It’s astonishing. It’s humiliating.
Oh god.
Harry laughs into your mouth before you pull away and instantly hide your head in your hands. You move to roll off of him but his arms come to wrap around you, holding you in place.
“Oh my god,” you groan, feeling him shake with laughter, “I’m sorry.”
“That was loud.”
“Shut up,” you say, giggling as you swat at him. “Haven’t eaten since like lunch yesterday. Was a bit busy.”
You tensed the seconds the words left your mouth, your attempt at a joke falling flat as the reminder of the real world sunk in. Yes, you were here, wrapped up in his arms in Italy. But somewhere else, was Erin. Dealing with the repercussions of a canceled wedding, having to explain to her family what happened, her dream weekend in shambles. All because of you.
“Hey. “ he said softly, snapping you back to reality. You looked down at him, his brow creased in concern.
“Sorry. I -” you exhaled through your lips, “Sorry.”
“Got nothing to be sorry for.”
“I didn’t mean to bring up or like … we haven’t really talked about -”
“I know.” He said, his hand coming up to brush your hair from your face. “I know I said I’d rather wait a bit before talking about it all but if you’d like to talk now, we can.”
You took a second to look at him underneath you. The way he was staring at you so openly, his hand still holding your face, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. This is what you want. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Does it make you an asshole to ignore the reality of the situation for a bit longer? Maybe. But you were hungry and groggy and wouldn’t be able to have a productive conversation right now anyway.
You shook your head slightly, leaning down over him until you were chest to chest, your arms bracketing his head as you take him in for a moment. His swollen lips, darkened eyes, the light flush of his cheeks.
“Not yet. I do want to talk but I’m really hungry,” you say, your hand coming up to play with the strands of hair at the top of his head, “And this really cute boy I’ve liked for ages just asked me on a date. So I’d like to do that first.”
He blinks up at you a few times before a grin splits his face open, your heart fluttering as you take in his expression.
“Let’s go eat, then.”
“Okay.”
You move to roll off of him but his arms tighten around you, still smiling at you when you look up at him in confusion.
“Give me a kiss first.”
You roll your eyes, grinning back at him before pressing your lips to his. It’s a bit awkward, teeth clacking at first as you can’t stop smiling to kiss each other, giggling as he presses his lips to your cheek, jawline, temple.
“If we don’t leave now,” you say as he drags his lips across your skin, “we will never leave this bed.”
“Won’t see me complaining.” he says as as he kisses your cheek, your nose, your temple. “Quite like you like this. On top of me.”
Heat sears through you, unable to formulate a witty response or any response for that matter, suddenly hyper focused on all the areas where your body is in contact with his bare skin. You can’t hold back the sound that escapes you as he kisses the spot right below your ear, sucking lightly on the skin.
“But you’re right.” he says, pulling back. “We should go. Can’t have your stomach screaming at me again.”
“You’re such a little shit!” you squawk. He barely dodges your arm swatting at him, bringing him arms up to protect his face.
“Not my fault your stomach could break a decibel barrier or summat.” he says, giggling.
“Decibel barrier,” you repeat, in a poor imitation of his deep voice, “Big vocabulary. Where’d you learn that one? Scrabble?”
“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” he says as you laugh. He wraps his arms around you, deftly flipping your positions, hovering over you on all fours as you lay flat with your back against the mattress. Your giggles slowly subsiding as you both become aware of the new position you’ve found yourselves in.
Your heart skips a beat, thinking about how often you’ve imagined him like this, hovering over you, his abs flexing, his thighs tense. It’s real, this time. You look up to find him already looking at you, pupils blown as he watches you ogle him. You take a deep breath, trying to slow down your racing heart but finding it impossible when he’s looking at you like that.
His nostrils flare as his searing gaze travels down your body before landing back on your face. Your mouth feels impossibly dry suddenly, licking your lips, stomach twisting when his eyes track the movement. You take a deep breath, reaching your hand up to thread through his hair, landing at the nape of his neck.
“Harry,” you whisper.
He hums in response, his eyes never once leaving your mouth.
“We should probably go.”
“Mhmm.”
“Decibel barriers and all that.”
“Mhmm.”
“Harry!”, you say with a laugh, lightly swatting him on the top of his head. He breaks his focus on your lips to look up at you, a light flush spreading across his cheeks as he smiles sheepishly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he sputters out a laugh, “you’re right. Let’s be responsible. You’re just…”
He cuts himself off with a deep breath, a murmured “bloody distracting” leaving his lips before he smacks a kiss to your cheek and hops off the bed.
“M’lady,” he says, extending a hand to you to help you off the bed as you take it with a snort. He does a little bow, dipping his head to press a kiss to your knuckles before popping up with a smirk at your expression.
“Right,” he says, starting to head around the bed towards the ensuite, “I’ve got a hot date to get ready for. Leave here in like 20ish minutes?”
“Ish.” you emphasize, staring at your mess of a suitcase. This should be interesting.
30(ish) minutes later, you were out in the warm spring night, heading up the road to the restaurant. You felt his eyes on you, turning your head to find him smirking.
“Looks good on you,” he said, pointing to your - well, his - sweater. Right.
In your defense, your suitcase was lacking only because you were in emotional distress while packing it. Trying to figure out what to wear while you watch the love of your life marry someone else is no easy task. You were never planning on staying long, so only packed the essentials. It wasn’t your fault that you apparently only packed pajamas and jeans.
“I can’t believe you still have this.” It had to be at least 5 years old, back in his days of chelsea boots and skinny jeans.
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “you told me you liked how it looked on me. Wasn’t getting rid of it after that.”
You gape at him for a moment, still not used to how he can just casually say these sentences that knock the wind out of you. He smiles softly at you, reaching out for your hand and pulling you closer. He holds on to your hand, lacing your fingers together as you continue walking. The novelty of it, just simply holding his hand, makes your breath catch in your throat as he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand, content to just hold yours.
He points out some shops along the way, streets he got lost down when he went on his first morning run here. As you get further into town, you expect him to pull his hand away. There’s not a ton of people but it’s not deserted. And he is still one of the most famous men in the world, a fact he cannot run away from. Maybe he’s trying to not hurt your feelings, to not mess with this new thing between you. You go to pull your hand away but when he only tightens his hold on your hand, you look up at him in confusion.
“‘S not like that here,” he says, pulling you towards a cluster of trattorias to your right, “They don’t really care about any of it. ‘S why I wanted to stay here. Bring you here. So we could just be two people on a date. Just you and me - ”
“Il mio raggio di sole!!” A voice booms out from inside the restaurant.
“ - And Leonardo.” he says, affectionately rolling his eyes, squeezing your hand once before letting go as he extends his arms out wide towards the older Italian gentleman bustling out of the open doors of the trattoria.
“Amore mio!” Harry yells when he sees him. Leonardo laughs a big belly laugh before grabbing Harry’s face and kissing him on both cheeks. They laugh and hug each other, with a few slaps on the back for good measure.
“Perché non mi hai detto che stavi arrivando?” Leonardo asks Harry when he pulls away, a hand still affectionately resting on his shoulder.
“Volevo sorprenderti!” Harry says with a smile that widens when Leonardo grabs his face and pinches his cheek.
You’ve got no idea what they’re saying but you can’t deny that watching the way Italian words leave Harry’s mouth makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You stand there, watching the two old friends catch up, in awe once again of the effect he has on people wherever he goes.
It’s almost impossible to articulate, the way his warmth and kindness radiates off of him, how he makes the person he’s talking to feel like the only person that matters and they can’t help but fall in love with him. It’s why you felt so foolish about your feelings at times, feeling like just one in a million girls who fell under Harry Styles’ spell. You knew your relationship was different than the one he had with the world but it was hard to feel that way, especially when you saw him in action. But here, and now, the way he keeps sneaking glances over to you as he laughs with Leonardo, maybe you weren’t just one in a million. Maybe you were just the one.
After Harry’s eighth glance over to you, Leonardo looks over at you with a smile.
“Where are my manners? How could you let me be so rude?” he says to Harry before smacking him on the chest.
Harry laughs and introduces you, saying your name with a small smile.
“Buonasera, senora” Leonardo says, extending a hand out to you as he leans in to kiss your cheeks in greeting.
“Buonasera” you say back, in probably the worst Italian anyone has ever heard but in their kindness, neither of them make fun of you for it. “So nice to meet you.”
“How do you know our boy?” he asks affectionately.
“Oh, we go way back. We’ve been friends since we were kids.” you say with a smile.
“Ah, bellissimo.” Leonardo says, “I met this young man a few years back now. With that long hair of his and those tight, tight pants.”
Harry barks out a laugh at that, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “Hey, those pants were cool, then.”
“He stumbled upon our trattoria and charmed the hell out of everyone in the place. He’s made sure to stop by every time he’s in town. We love him here.”
“Yeah, he tends to have that effect on people,” you say.
“One of a kind, this boy.” Leonardo smiles and turns to Harry, “La tua amica è molto carina.”
“Mia ragazza,” he says back softly, “Lei è la mia ragazza”.
He looks over at you, fondness in his eyes, just as Leonardo smacks him upside the back of his head.
“Tua ragazza?!” He says, “Tua ragazza?! What are you talking to me for? Mio dio. Come, come.”
He leads you both through the trattoria, bustling with cozy energy, small tables and intimate lighting. He takes you through the kitchen, grabbing a carafe of wine before leading you to the back patio. Fairy lights string the awning, tables scattered throughout the space. There’s only one other older couple sitting in the far corner, paying you no mind as their heads stay ducked in conversation. Leonardo leads you to a table on the opposite end. You can see the water from here, how the moonlight shines against it. It’s lovely.
“Sit, sit.” Leonardo insists, not even bothering to put out menus as he pours the wine in your glasses. “We’ll take good care of you. Enjoy.”
He winks at you before heading back inside.
“Cheers,” Harry says, lifting his glass to yours as you reciprocate the message, each taking a sip of your wine.
“I didn’t know you spoke Italian that well,” you say.
“‘M not that good,” he says, “Still learning. Wanted to be able to spend more time here and actually speak the language.”
“Well, it sounds good to me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s hot,” you say bluntly as he snorts out a laugh. “What did you say to him earlier? That made him smack you?”
“Ah.” he says, looking down at the table for a moment, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “He told me my friend was very pretty. And I corrected him, and said you were my date.”
“Oh. That’s sweet.” you say with a smile, warmth flooding you. Doesn’t seem worth blushing over, but you’re endeared nonetheless.
“I actually - I used a different word,” he says, sheepishly scratching at the side of his face before looking up at you.
“What do you mean?”
“In Italian, there’s a few words for date. There’s appuntomenta which is like a casual date with someone. If you were going on a first date, that’s what you would say. But I said ragazza, mio ragazza, which is what you say when you’re on a date with your girlfriend.”
“Oh.”
He stares at you for a moment, trying to gauge your reaction, his next words coming out in a rush.
“I know that’s a lot. And we haven’t talked about anything and that tonight was technically my wedding night but I -” he takes a deep breath, reaching for your hand before stopping himself, letting it rest right near yours on the table, looking at you with utter sincerity. “This isn’t casual, to me. You mean…this is…”
“Different,” you say.
“Yeah, but it's more than that,” he says, “This is…’s not something I’m trying out to see if it works. I’m in this, for real. I’ve never - ‘s not felt like this with anyone. ‘S like…
He pauses to collect his thoughts and when he looks back up at you, his eyes are glassy, emotion clear in his voice.
“‘S like I didn’t realize something was missing and then you told me you loved me and my whole world shifted. Like a missing piece of a puzzle finally clicked into place that I hadn’t realized was lost.”
“Harry,” you breathe out.
“I’m just…” he takes a deep breath, shakes his head. “This feels like a date with my girlfriend. Like someone I want to spend a lot of time with. For as long as I possibly can. And that’s why I said it. Is that okay?”
You’re silent for a moment, just staring at him in awe, blinking back the tears that rushed to your eyes.
“Yeah,” you say, with a laugh of disbelief, “that’s okay.”
“Good,” he says, gently taking your hand and lacing your fingers together.
“Good,” you repeat. “And uh, for me too. I mean, this feels that way for me, too. I would say you’re, uh… mio ragazzo?”
“You’re shit at Italian,” he says with a wide grin, sparking a laugh out of you as he chuckles.
“But yeah,” he says, fingers tightening around yours, “That’s what you would say. If you wanted to.”
“I wanted to,” you say, hooking your ankle around his under the table, heart skipping a beat as his smile goes to something softer, more private. Just for you.
“Good.”
“Good.”
You just sit there, grinning at each other like two kids with a school crush, before Leonardo bursts through the doors, gorgeous plates of food in his hand.
“Buckle up,” Harry mutters, “this is just the first course.”
The night flies from there. Leonardo brings out course after course of delicious food, always making sure your wine supply never runs low. Your conversation flows from childhood memories to the books you’re currently reading that you can’t put down. It feels like it always does when the two of you finally get to sit down and catch up for the first time in a while except this time, he squeezes your hand every so often and you brush your leg against his in a way that makes pupils go a bit wider.
At one point, Leonardo and his wife Isabella, a shorter woman with a fierce bob and whip smart wit, join you for a glass or two, reminiscing about Harry’s adventures in Italy when he was a few years younger. Tears fill your eyes as Leonardo recalls the story of how he first met and fell in love with Isabella twenty-three years ago, as she constantly interjects with corrections much to your amusement. The night draws to a close when you start to feel Harry’s eyes on you no matter who is talking in the conversation, something Isabella picks up on immediately, gently swatting Leonardo as he begins another story.
“Amore mio, we should let these two go. It’s their first night here and we’ve been talking their ears off.” she says.
“No!” you and Harry say at the same time, his attention snapping back to them as Isabella smirks at him.
“Really, it’s been so lovely,” you say, as Isabella takes your hand and squeezes it affectionately.
“We’ll see you soon, mio caro. I know it.”
After a bit of a battle over the bill, or lack thereof, that ends with Harry shoving a large wad of euros into Leonardo’s pocket and refusing to take them back and Isabella placing another bottle of wine into your hands for you to take home with vows to teach you some recipes the next time you come, you say your goodbyes with hugs and kisses, feeling like you’ve known this couple for far longer than just the past few hours.
As you’re leaving, Isabella takes Harry’s face in her hands, saying “Lei è speciale. Prenditi cura di lei” to which he nods and replies, “Sempre. Sempre.”
She gives him one final kiss on the cheek and you head back out into the night, the activity of the restaurant having simmered during the late hour. Harry wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Did you like it?”
“Think that was the best meal I’ve ever had. And they’re amazing. To have taken over the family business at such a young age and to have kept it going the way they have…and to still love each other the way they do. It’s incredible.”
“I know. It’s always great getting to see them. They’re really something else.”
“I also always love getting to see the effect you have on people.” you say softly after a few moments of silence. “The way they’re drawn to you like a moth to a flame. You just make everyone feel so singular and special.”
“What - you mean, tonight? No, that was all you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re very charming, you know. And smart. And funny. And a really great person to tell a story to.” he says, slowing your walk to a stop as he turns to face you. Taking a few moments to just look at you, his eyes grazing over your features, a small smile on lips.
“‘S what Isabella said to me as we were leaving. She said you were special and that I should take good care of you.”
Your breath catches in your throat, heartbeat thrumming at having him this close for the first time in hours. “And what did you say back?”
He cups your face in his hands, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Always. Sempre.” he says, leaning in. “Sempre. Amore mio.”
He says the last phrase against your mouth before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. You can’t help the small noise that escapes you as you kiss him back. One hand falls to your hip to pull you closer, the bottle of wine getting smushed between you as he kisses you again.
He pulls away with a groan. “This bottle of wine is killing my vibe.”
He leans his forehead against yours as you huff a laugh, his thumb drawing circles on your hip. It feels quite familiar to about 30 hours ago, when he held you like this in the courtyard and yet it couldn’t be more different. He kisses you once more before pulling away.
“Had a lot of wine. Should probably keep walking around for a bit, if that’s cool with you. ‘S a nice night.”
“Yeah, I’m good with that.” you say as he takes your hand, lacing your fingers together as you resume your walk.
You walk along the cobblestone streets, well-lit despite the dark night sky. You don’t talk much, but you don’t have to, content to be in the silence and have each other close. As you get closer to the water, Harry slows down by the benches overlooking a pier.
“D’you wanna sit for a bit?”, he asks, looking at you while you nod. You sit down next to each other, placing the wine on the ground by your feet, looking out at the night sky that stretches above you, unable to see much else but the moon and stars. You can see the light from some boats and hear some music from the restaurants a bit up the way but other than that, it's quiet.
“Bit of a shit view at night,” you say, as he barks out a loud laugh.
A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you sit there, looking out at the stars. You breathe in the warm spring air, feeling buzzed from the wine, and from him. Just happy. It’s hard to believe that this is real, that you’re sitting where you are.
You can feel him on the verge of saying something. Even out of the corner of your eye, you can spot his long held mannerisms and know better than to push it. He’s incredibly careful with his words, especially when it comes to public speaking, always opting to take the time to think the words through before saying them out loud. With you, he usually opts to just let them imperfectly flow, sure he’ll find his point along the way, no self-consciousness or public perception to hold him back. When you turn to face him, his brow furrowed as he pinches his bottom lip, you can tell that he wants to take his time with this. Wants to get the words exactly right, whatever the words may be.
“Y’ scare the shit out of me. Y’ always have.”
Or not.
“I - what?” you say, sputtering out a laugh. “That’s not true.”
“My palms are sweating,” he says, holding out his palms for you to see before laying them back in his lap. “Feel like I’m 12 years old, asking you to dance all over again.”
“Oh come on, H. You were not nervous for that.”
“Was bricking myself, love.” he says, turning to face you as your brows crease in confusion. You making him nervous? That can’t be true. “Had the biggest crush on you back then.”
“You WHAT?”
“Come on, you had to have known that.” he says, as you start to vehemently shake your head. “I wasn’t subtle at all.”
“I had no idea.”
“Asked you to dance, didn’t I?”
Your heart lurches as he repeats the words he said to you all those years ago, verbatim. The memory already taking on a different life with this new piece of information. The way he had clutched your wrist, how he wouldn’t look you in the eye, how sweaty his palms had been. Oh. These little moments in your life turning out to mean as much to him as they do to you makes your head spin.
“I made us all play spin the bottle at Katie’s 13th birthday trying to get you to kiss me.” he says, unable to stop the confessions once he’s started.
“What?” you say with a disbelieving laugh, “So you’re the reason my first kiss was with Conor Williams?”
“Trust me, I’m just as upset about it as you are.” he says as you laugh. “I couldn’t figure out the mechanics of how to make sure the bottle landed on you in time and then that bastard took the first turn.”
“It really wasn’t anything special,” you say with a laugh.
“Yeah, well, it was supposed to be.” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Can’t believe you didn’t know. Gem used to tease me mercilessly about it - the way I would always spend like 20 minutes making sure my curls fell the right way before going over to yours for Sunday roast.”
You giggle, helplessly endeared at the thought of little 13 year old Harry, in his big chinos and polo shirts, frantically fixing his curls in the mirror, just for them to fall the way they always did.
“Clearly it didn’t work,” he says, smiling over at you.
“Maybe not at the time,” you say, “But I promise those curls have really done a number on me over the years.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” you say emphatically as he raises his eyebrows, huffing out a laugh. “You don’t even know.”
“I’d like to,” he says, his voice rumbling out like gravel. The expression on his face makes your breath catch in your throat, still not used to the way he can so easily go from a regular conversation to making you feel like you’re on fire.
“Bloody narcissist,” you say, the waver in your voice being a dead giveaway as to how affected you are and it makes him smirk, his eyes twinkling.
“Oh, but you love it,” he teases.
“Yeah,” you say with a deep breath, “turns out I do.”
His face floods with emotion then, his eyes darting all over your face before he takes a deep breath, breaking eye contact to look down at his hands with a furrow in his brow.
“Maybe if I had just told you back then…”
“H.” you say gently, “We were kids. I’m not sure a relationship between two 13 year olds would have stood the test of time.”
“Yeah, I just -” he drags a hand down his face. “That 13 year old kid knew exactly what he wanted when it came to you. And for me - I…My entire world flipped upside down when I was 16. Everything changed, all at once, forever. The only things that were constant in my life were Mum, Gemma… and you.”
You inhale sharply at that, a sound louder than you meant it to be, as it makes his head snap up and reach for your hand, holding it between both of his own as he turns to face you.
“And I couldn’t mess with that. To be honest, I don’t know that I even wanted to, just assumed that how I felt about you was how someone feels about their closest friend. You were my best mate and I needed that, as much as a selfish prick as that makes me.”
“That makes sense to me,” you say, “H, I was never expecting you to -”
“But I -” he says, cutting you off, “I wish I had stopped to think about why it was different with you. Like why I wanted to deck that bloke you were seeing a few years back because he kept ordering you bloody pimms cups which you hate. Or why I couldn’t stop staring at you at mum’s birthday this past year because I…I thought you looked so beautiful.”
“You…what?” You must’ve heard him incorrectly, the sound of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.
“Couldn’t get you off my mind for weeks, love.” he says. “But I was already engaged and –”
He makes a miserable noise at that, leaning his elbows on his thighs, his hands coming up to cover his face.
“I…I thought it was just me freaking out about getting married. Wasn’t lying when I said I was shit at relationships, I tend to flake out the moment ‘m supposed to commit. But… something felt off the second I proposed, if I’m honest. And I could never figure out why that was, we had a good relationship and it felt like the right thing to do…so I just ignored it. Thought it was just fear of being tied down.”
“When I called you on my birthday, I almost told you about it. About how I didn’t think I should go through with it. But I…”, he shakes his head, taking a deep breath, his voice thick with emotion, “I couldn’t figure out how to articulate it. And I got scared. Of what you might say. ‘Nd what it might mean. ‘Ve always done what people want me to do so going against that…I couldn’t – I was all over the place. Couldn’t figure out what I wanted or what I should do –”
He shakes his head, taking a moment to collect himself before looking over at you, tears in his eyes. He reaches out his hand to take yours, lacing your fingers together, looking you right in the eyes.
“But then… there you were. Standing in that courtyard, looking unbelievable. And telling me you loved me. And suddenly everything made sense. All the confusion I felt over the past year. All the questions I’ve had about us over the years. I …it all felt wrong because it wasn’t with you. And it’s always been you.”
You don’t think you’ve breathed in the last minute, unable to do anything but hold his hand tight, tears already falling down your cheeks as he reaches up to brush one away.
“Think I started loving you when I was 13 and a part of me never stopped. ‘Nd I’m so sorry it took me this long to realize it. But nothing in my life has ever made more sense to me than being here with you, right now. I – come closer to me,” he says, pulling at your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist, not letting go until you’re situated in his lap.
He looks up at you, a few tears in his eyes that you bring your hand up to wipe away as he smiles at you. Looking at you with adoration in his eyes. Bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks, he takes a deep breath before saying:
“I love you.”
You take a moment to take in his features, the love in his eyes, the smile so wide the dimple is showing, knowing your matching grin looks the same. He’s here. He’s yours.
You can’t explain the sound you make as you crash your lips to his, his hand coming up to the back of your neck, the other holding you at the hip to keep you in place. It’s a bit of a mess, with the tears from both of your cheeks, the way you can’t stop smiling to get a proper kiss in, the way he keeps mumbling “’m sorry, i love you” between kisses but… it’s perfect.
You pull back slightly, wary of moving too far away, wanting to keep as much of yourself touching him as possible, but wanting to get a good look at his face.
“Thank you for telling me all of that.”
“Was a lot, wasn’t it?” he says with a sheepish laugh.
“The most you’ve ever talked I think.” you say with a giggle as he pinches your hip.
“I really am sorry, you know” he says sincerely. “I wish I had been less of a coward —”
“Think you’re being too hard on yourself. There was a lot going on. I never said anything to you either. I was also trying to do the right thing, what was expected. And I was purposefully trying to detach myself to make things easier —”
“Yeah, don’t do that again.”, he says, arms tightening around you, pulling you in impossibly closer.
“I won’t,” you say with a giggle.
“Good.”
You take a moment to stare at him. At your boy. The only boy you’ve ever loved. “Harry?”
He hums in response, a soft smile on his lips.
“I love you, too.”
His eyes flutter shut at that, taking a deep breath as his smile grows wider, opening his eyes back up to look right at you.
“Can you say it again, please?”
“I love you, I love you, I love you I l–”
He cuts you off with a sweet kiss, holding you like you’re the most precious thing, thumb drawing circles on your hip. A sigh falls from your mouth as he leans in to kiss you once more, his lips pressing to yours over and over.
He slowly pulls away, burying his head into your neck, inhaling deeply as he tightens his arms around you. The two of you sit there, holding each other close, breathing each other in. Both reveling in the ability to finally have the person you love, the person you’ve always loved, in your arms.
Slowly, you start to feel his mouth on your neck, lips dragging against the skin, tongue slipping out between kisses to taste the skin in a way that has your toes curling. He kisses a slow line up your neck, pausing at that one spot behind your ear. He sucks a mark into the skin, making himself known, the sensation has you letting out a small moan.
His hands tighten on your hips at the sound, a soft groan leaving his mouth as he gently nips at your skin before he pulls back. His eyes graze all of your face before landing on your lips. The shift in energy is palpable, simmering between you two. His hand comes up to the back of your neck, tightening slightly when you lick your lips.
“Fuck.”
He dives back in, the kiss quickly descending into pure heat as his tongue swipes against your lips, groaning deeply in his chest when you lick into his mouth, your hand sliding up into his hair. His tongue passes over yours, not giving you a second to breathe as he bites down at your bottom lip before kissing you deeply once more.
When you pull away to catch your breath, he starts to kiss his way along your jaw, sucking at the skin when he gets to your neck.
“H?” You’re panting, desperately trying to hold it together but every second with his lips on your skin is one second closer to you just taking him right here on this bench.
He lets out a guttural groan, hand tightening on your hip, his hips rolling up into yours in a way that makes you feel all of him. Shit, had you said that last bit out loud?
“Harry,” you breathe out.
“Yeah, baby?” he says, lips moving against your skin. And well, fuck. He’s never called you that before, the pet name sending a jolt straight to your core as you tighten your fingers in his hair. You can feel him smiling against your neck, clearly loving the effect he’s having on you.
“Take me home.”
He groans quietly against your throat, pulling his head back to look at you as his arms tighten around your waist, his eyes dark, pupils blown.
“Yeah,” he says, leaning in to kiss you firmly. “Yes, please. Yeah. Let’s - let’s go.”
He kisses you once more before leaning back, offering a hand up to help you off of his lap and standing once you’re all set. Smirking as he not so subtly adjusts himself. He bends down to pick up the bottle of wine and then takes your hand, pulling you close and wrapping his arm around your waist.
“Come on, baby.” he says. “Let’s go home.”
– - - -
The tension from earlier seems to have faded slightly on the walk back, as the two of you toe off your sneakers, swollen lips offering shy smiles, your heart thundering with nerves. You wanted him, you’ve always wanted him, there was no doubt about that. You’ve fantasized about it, dreamt about it and now that it was actually about to happen, you weren’t sure what to do. It would be one thing if he had grown up just looking like all the other guys your age, but no, he had to go and turn himself into walking sex on legs. You were losing it.
You look up to find him smiling softly at you, holding up the bottle of wine in his hand.
“Could pour us a glass, if you’d like.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” you say with a nod, watching as he walks over to the kitchen. You follow slowly behind, trying to make yourself snap out of it. You loved him and he just told you he loved you. He loved you. You wanted him and it seems like he wanted you just as badly, if his groans were any indication. You’ve spent so much of your life being afraid of what could happen between you two, what could go wrong and now, there was nothing to be afraid of. Not here. Not right now.
As you watched him reach up for two glasses, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin, his abs and laurel tattoos peeking out, you decided you didn’t want wine after all. You were thirsty for something else entirely. You cringe at yourself for that last one. No more thinking.
“Harry? I actually - I changed my mind.” you say, taking a few steps over to get closer to him. “I don’t want wine anymore.”
“Yeah?”, he says, turning around to lean against the counter and crossing his arms, his biceps suddenly bulging in a way you can’t take your eyes off of. He watches as your eyes drag down his body before locking eyes with him as he licks his lips. “What do you want?”
“You. I want you. It’s all I –” The words are barely out of your mouth when he hooks his fingers through the belt loop of your jeans, pulling you right into him as he captures your lips with his. The sweetness from earlier long forgotten as he hotly licks into your mouth, his tongue sweeping over yours in a way that makes your head spin. His hands drift down to your ass, squeezing once as he moans into your mouth, pulling you even closer to him.
He spins you suddenly, pinning you against the countertop and grinding his hips against yours as he drags his lips down your neck. You’re panting, dragging your hands down his biceps, the muscles flexing as he plants his hands on the countertop, caging you in. His lips drag along your cheekbone before they find their way to yours once again. He kisses you hard as you trail your hands up his arms and down his back, his unbelievable back muscles that you can’t help but knead your hands into as you roll your hips up into his. He groans in appreciation, pulling away to press kisses along your jaw, one of his hands sliding up your sweater, just resting possessively against your ribs, his thumb grazing the edge of your bra. The feeling of his hands on your skin making your core throb as he sucks at the skin of your neck, determined to leave a mark.
“Harry,” you moan out his name in a way that has him sucking harder, his hand gripping you tighter. “We should - bedroom.”
He pulls back to look at you, panting to catch his breath. His lips are swollen, eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them as he drags his thumb across your bottom lip, almost growling when your tongue swipes out to taste it.
“C’mere.” He takes a step back and pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours once again, looping his arms around your hips. “Jump.”
You don’t think about it, just do, as you jump up into his arms, looping your legs around his waist.
“This okay?”
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, bending your head down to mouth at the skin of his neck. “Drop me and I’ll kill you.”
“Not gonna do that,” he says, making his way out of the kitchen before letting go for a millisecond, you drop down a centimeter as you squeal before his arms catch you once more, holding you tight.
“Oh, you absolute arsehole!”
You can feel his giggles as much as you can hear them which sets you off to the point where he has to stop walking, arms holding you tight as you both dissolve into laughter. You pull your head back to look at him, finding him smiling up at you.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Is your back okay?”
He rolls his eyes, tightening his arms around you.
“M’back’s fine.” he says, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours before claiming your lips in a sweet kiss. He leans back to smile up at you, his dimple making an appearance.
You wind your hand up into the hairs at the nape of his neck, taking a moment to survey him, your eyes immediately drawn to his arms, flexed with effort but showing no signs of strain or struggle. Fuck, he’s so strong.
“Your arms are driving me insane,” you whisper, mostly to yourself but he hears you, huffing out a laugh as he leans in to plant a line of kisses down your neck.
“Yeah? You like them?” he asks, flexing them intentionally, grinning when you squeeze them.
“Harry.” you all but whine. “Take me to bed.”
He moans at that, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you deeply before continuing to walk down the hallway, holding you tight against him. You drag your lips along the skin of his neck, sucking lightly as he kicks the bedroom door open, sliding his hands to your thighs to help you ease to the ground, every inch of your body sliding against his as you do.
You stand there, looking at each other, before he swallows heavily, bringing his slightly shaking hands up to cup your face, leaning in to kiss you once more. He presses his lips to yours once, twice before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours.
“You nervous?” he whispers against your lips.
You nod. “A bit. Are you?”
“A bit. ‘S a big deal. You’re a big deal.” His thumb rubs against your cheekbone as he pulls back to look you right in the eyes. “But I love you and you love me. And I want you. And you want me.”
“I do,” you say, your hands coming to rest at his hips. “I really do. Wanna show you how much.”
“I’m yours, darling.”
You lean up to capture his lips with yours, swiping your tongue over his as you slide your hands under his shirt, pushing the fabric up before he breaks away from your mouth to pull the shirt over his head.
And there he is. Shirtless in a bedroom with you. You’ve been in this position before, but never like this. Never with his hooded eyes burning into your face as you take him all in. He’s yours to love. To touch. To fuck.
You slide your hand down his chest, his head ducked to follow the movement, before you’re undoing the button on his trousers, sliding your hand inside to cup at his length, already half hard, through his briefs. His head tilts back on his neck, his breath coming in short bursts as he drags his hand down your back to grab a firm handful of your arse.
You spin yourselves around, walking him backward before pushing him down lightly on the foot of the bed. His hands propped up to hold himself up, his legs spread wide as he watches you walk over to him, reaching out to grab your wrist and pulling you onto his lap.
“Y’ wearing too many clothes.” he says, his hands already traveling up your sweater.
“I wasn’t done.” you huff out, which turns more into a pant as he leans in to kiss you on the neck.
“Just need you more naked, love. Won’t interrupt again, I just - ” he cuts himself off, grabbing the hem of your sweater and pulling it over your head, his eyes immediately roaming over your skin.
And this is…being naked, even half naked, in front of someone for the first time is always nerve-wracking, regardless of how you feel about your appearance (and you were hot and you knew it, okay?!) but this is a whole other level. You’re a bit frozen in place, desperate to know if he likes what he sees.
He must feel you stiffen, because his hands immediately come to rest at your hips.
“You okay?” he asks, his eyes never once straying from yours.
“Yeah,” you say, huffing out a nervous laugh. “Just got nervous about you seeing me naked. Wondering if you liked it”
“Y- what?! Y’can’t be serious.” he all but squawks.
“I didn’t say it was rational!” you say with a giggle. “Just - it’s a big deal.”
“For me, too. ‘S an honor. A privilege. Thanking m’lucky stars –
“Oh my god.” you say, rolling your eyes.
“‘M serious. Y’ dead sexy.” he says, leaning in to plant a scintillating kiss to your neck before pulling back, suddenly serious. “Did you want to stop?”
“No, no, no. Not at all,” you say, threading your hand through his hair. “I want this. Want you. Thought about it so many times.”
He moans at that, sucking a kiss behind your ear before pulling back to whisper, “Gonna tell me what you thought about?”
“Wanna show you.” you say as he groans, kissing your neck once more before pulling away.
“‘M not done yet” he says, eyes locking with yours before sweeping down your body again. “Fuck. So beautiful.”
He plants a line of kisses down your neck, stopping to suck a mark on your collarbone as reaches around to unclasp your bra, helping it slide off your shoulders. He stares for a moment before diving in, kisses roaming from your sternum down to your breasts, wrapping his lips around one nipple while his hand massages the other. You’re overwhelmed, moaning at the sensation. You could stay here forever, slowly becoming putty in his hands as he moves his mouth to your other breast. But that’s not what you want.
You lean back, stopping his head with a gentle hand in his hair when he tries to follow you. His blown pupils staring right back at you.
You slip off his thigh and kneel in between his legs, grabbing his trousers and briefs by the waistband and pulling them down as he lifts his hips off the bed to help, his chest already heaving at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. Once you get them off his legs, you can’t help but gape at him. Sitting in front of you, in all his naked glory. He’s fully hard now, his glorious cock standing proud, already rosy red at the tip. He’s big. You want him inside you. But you’ve got something else to do first.
You lean in, planting kisses along his inner thigh, occasionally sucking the skin into your mouth to leave a mark while your hand sweeps up his other leg, kneading the muscle every so often. He groans, threading his hand through your hair, a mumbled “fuck me” leaving his lips as you make your way up his legs. You kiss a line along his hip, leaning in to lick at the laurel tattoos before looking up at him as he stares right back with dark eyes and a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Y’ don’t have to -”
“I want to,” you say, wrapping a loose fist around his cock as you kiss along the prominent vein, reveling in the way his eyes roll back, eyes fluttering closed, a full body shudder going through him. “This okay?”
“Yes - fuck. Please.” he tightens his hand in your hair as you pump his cock once before darting your tongue out and sucking at the tip.
He immediately moans, deep and guttural, trying in vain to keep his hips still as work him into your throat. You close your eyes, reveling in the feel of him as you drag your tongue along the vein, tightening your mouth at the tip as his breathing becomes heavier. You bob your head, working your mouth open to meet your fist at the base.
“Jesus, ‘s good. ‘S so good - baby,” he groans, chest heaving as your dewy eyes open to meet his, moaning the second you make eye contact. You can feel arousal pooling at the center of your thighs, shifting on your heels to find some relief. You leave one hand on his cock, the other sliding up to rest on his butterfly tattoo, feeling it jump under your hand as you give a particularly hard suck.
You pull off with an undignified slurp, keeping your hand pumping on him as you kiss down his length. Between his sounds, his taste, the feel of his fingers against your scalp, you’re wetter than you’ve ever been. You need him.
“Doing so good for me, you look unbelievable - ” he says, groaning as you take him down once more. “Oh fuck -”
You only manage a few more bobs of your head before he’s pulling you off of him, closing his eyes to collect himself.
“Gotta - gotta stop.” he says as you unwrap your fist, dragging your hands along his thighs. “Gonna make me come - and I -”
He shakes his head, chest still heaving as he reaches for your hands, pulling you up to stand in between his thighs. He immediately presses his mouth to your belly, dragging slow, wet kisses down until he reaches the waistband of your trousers, bringing his hands up to meet his mouth.
“Can I?” You’re nodding before he can even get the words out, desperate to have his hands on you.
He unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down slowly. Once they’re at your ankles, you hastily and ungracefully kick them off. He huffs out a laugh before taking you all in, swallowing heavily before dragging his eyes to your face, resting his chin against your stomach as he looks up at you, utterly rapt. His hands knead your thighs, edging closer to where you need him most before he pulls them away again.
“Want you on my bed,” he says and you all but crawl over him to get there, snorting out a laugh when he smacks you on the bum before you settle down against the pillows.
“Was right there,” he says, giggling as he turns around to face you. “Had to do someth…”
The words die in his throat when he sees you, sitting back against his heels for a moment as his eyes roam all over you, his searing gaze making you throb. He crawls up to lay beside you, bringing two fingers under your chin to tilt your head towards him and capturing your lips with his, groaning when he can taste himself on your tongue.
“Need to touch you,” he whispers against your lips. “Can I?”
“Please.” you whisper back. He props himself up on his elbow, bringing his other hand to rest on your sternum. Your breath catches when he leans in to kiss your neck, dragging his fingertips from your collarbone down to the waistband of your underwear, pausing a moment before pushing his hand inside, his fingers teasing at your folds, at where you’re practically dripping for him.
He bites down on your neck, groaning when he feels your wetness. “‘S this all for me? Y’ got this wet from sucking my cock?”
“Shit,” you moan out, eyes rolling back as his fingers start to rub circles on your clit. Each touch sends sparks shooting down your spine.
“Y’ so wet,” he moans into your ear, kissing a line across your jaw before licking into your mouth. You thread your hand into his hair as you kiss back, or attempt to, moaning deeply when you feel his hard cock against your hip. “‘S this really all for me?”
You pull back, looking into his hooded eyes as you whisper “Sempre.”
A moan punches out of him as he closes his eyes, stilling his hand for a moment. “Don’t - don’t do that,” he says, shakily. “Gonna make me bust a nut.”
“Thought my Italian was shit.” you say, laughing, still determined to tease him despite feeling like you’re about to explode, wiggling your hips to get his fingers where you want them.
“Turns out it hits very differently when you’re naked in m’ bed….” he says, kissing you deeply once more, before slipping a finger inside you, groaning as he pulls away. “And you’re this tight -”
“H -” you gasp out, feeling like every inch of you is on fire, the coil in your stomach already tightening with each delicious curl of his finger. Fuck. You never imagined he’d feel this good.
“Y’ feel so good, baby.” he says, lips dragging against your skin. “Want you to come like this. Can y’ do that for me?”
“Yeah. Want another - .” He slides another finger inside of you, effectively cutting you off. “Yes.”
“That’s better, yeah? That’s what my girl needed.” he says, resting his forehead against your temple. You tighten your hand in his hair, unable to focus on anything but the feel of his breath against your skin, the feeling of his fingers fucking you. The coil tightening as you start to pant. Fuck.
“Harry -” you moan, opening your eyes to look at him, his pupils blown out wide, nostrils flared as his eyes roam across your face before locking with yours. He kisses you, tongue gliding over yours as he brings his thumb to rub against your clit. Heat sears through you, thighs tightening as you feel yourself hurtling closer to the edge. “‘I’m close - oh!”
“Y’ look so good. Want you to come.” he mumbles against your skin. All it takes is a few more pumps of his fingers, his thumb swiping in one more delicious circle, his lips brushing against yours and then you’re coming. Hard.
Wave after wave of pleasure rolls through you, as a symphony of indecipherable moans leave your mouth, your stomach pulled tight, your core throbbing. It’s never felt like this before. His fingers fucking you through the last wave before the overstimulation has you groaning. He gently pulls his fingers out and sucks them into his mouth while locking eyes with you. His eyes rolling back at your taste.
“Taste so good,” his voice grumbles out, deeper than ever before. “Could just lay here and eat y’ for hours, if y’ wanted. Make you come over and over -”
You pull his head to your mouth, kissing him while still trying to catch your breath. You bite his bottom lip as he pulls away to smatter kisses across your face, mumbling “fuck, baby. Looked so good. Did so good for me” between kisses. He pulls back to stare at your face, small smile on his lips as he brushes a strand of hair away from your sweaty brow.
“Jesus Christ.” you say as he smacks a kiss to your cheek.
“Y’ can just call me Harry, love.” he says, giggling when you smack him on the head.
“And here I was about to compliment you -” you say with a groan, making like you’re going to get up before his arm lays across your waist, holding you in place.
“No no no, none of that. Let me hear it.” he says as you shake your head. “Was it good for you?”
“No comment - ”
“No come on – tell me.”
“It was alright.”
“Alright?! Had you moaning like a banshee and you –”
“A banshee?! Oh my god –”
“A hot banshee.”
“Shut up.” you say with a laugh as he buries his head against your neck, laughing with you. Once you settle down, you feel him start to plant kisses along your neck, his hard cock more prominent than ever against your hip.
“I’ve never come that hard.” “Yeah?” “You made me feel so good.”
You use your grip in his hair to pull his head towards yours, licking at the seam of his lips until he opens his mouth, moaning into yours as you kiss him deeply. You swipe your tongue over his over and over, desperate to get lost in the sensation, to make him feel as good as you did. You needed him.
“Harry,” you mumble against your lips before he dives in once again, kissing you so deeply you have to pull away to catch your breath, looking him in the eyes as you rub your thumb against his bottom lip. “Fuck me.”
His eyes flutter shut as he groans, nipping at your thumb before kissing you firmly once more, your lips dragging down his neck when he pulls away.
“Have to - Baby. Fuck. Have to get stuff. Washroom.” he mumbles incoherently as you suck a mark into his skin, biting down to leave a bruise. Marking your territory. He dives in to kiss you deeply once more before you pull away again.
“Your cock is about to burn a hole through my leg,” you say as he sputters out a laugh.
“‘S your fault. You’ve got no idea how good you look when you come” he mumbles against your lips, licking into your mouth.
“Harry.” you whine.
“‘M going, ‘m going.” He kisses your cheek as he drags his hand down your body, snapping the waistband of your underwear. “Get these off.”
“You’re the one who left them on!” you complain to no avail, as he hops off the bed, doing an awkward shuffle run into the washroom. You pull your soaked underwear off and throw it to the floor, hearing him fumble around drawers. He’s about to fuck you. A shudder runs through you, and you bring your hand down to your clit, still swollen as you brush your fingers against the bud, letting out a loud moan of his name.
“Jesus - fuck.”
Ah, so he heard you.
You hear a large clattering noise, a few more mumbled curses before you look over to find him standing in the doorway, condoms in hand, dark eyes locked on you.
“What’re y’ doing?”
“Got impatient.”
“Fuck, baby.” He brings his hand down to his hard cock, pumping it a few times as his eyes travel up and down your body. “Y’ look so good.”
“Need you,” you moan and he all but scrambles up the foot of the bed, dropping the condoms unceremoniously as he crawls to rest in between your bent legs. You lift your fingers off your clit, moaning when he ducks down to suck them into his mouth. He kisses your fingertips before bending down to kiss along your inner thigh.
He kisses a line across your hip before licking a stripe up your core. A guttural moan bursts from your chest as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He kisses a line up your stomach, crawling up until he’s hovering over you on all fours. His cock right where you need him the most, grazing your core when he bends down to kiss you, the two of you moaning into each other’s mouths.
He pulls away to look at you, dark eyes brimming with lust and determination.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Really want to fuck you.”
“Really want you to.”
He groans, kissing you deeply once more before leaning back on his heels and ripping the condom package open with his teeth. You’re unable to do anything but watch as he rolls the condom over his cock, his biceps flexing as he pumps himself once.
“Want y’ like this, if that’s okay.” he says, coming to hover over you once more. “Want to see you.”
“Yes, please.”
He lines himself up with your center, “deep breath for me,” and pushes in, smattering kisses across your face.
“Oh fuck.”
“Is it - fuck - okay? Y’good?”
“You’re big.” you moan out, clenching around him as you try to adjust to his size. “Just - give me a minute.”
“Take your time,” he says as he kisses at the hinge of your jaw bone. He drags his mouth across your forehead, temple, cheekbone as you take another deep breath, feeling yourself relax around him and oh shit - yes.
“You can move.” “Y’sure?”
“Yes, please - fuck.” The expletive is dragged out of you as he pulls his hips back before thrusting forward slowly. It feels like every nerve ending is on fire, like you’re ignited from within. He’s barely begun and you already can’t catch your breath.
“Fuck. Y’ feel so good.” he mumbles against your skin, lowering his arms so every inch of his skin is touching yours, you both groan at the sensation as he drags his hips back once again.
“You can - faster.” you gasp out, dragging your hands down his back grabbing a handful of his ass. “Please. Wanna feel it.”
He growls at that, kissing you deeply as he starts to fuck you. Really fuck you. Smooth, deep thrusts filling you every time. And then - oh fuck. You let out a loud moan, your hands scrambling for hold on his sweaty back.
“That’s it, yeah? Right there?” he asks as you feverishly nod your head. “Fuck, baby - y’feel -”
He lets out a guttural groan, reaching down to pull your thighs further up against his hips, moaning at the new angle. You bury your hand into his hair again, pulling on a particularly deep thrust as he moans against your neck in appreciation. You start to move your hips up against his and it takes a minute but eventually you hit a rhythm that is indescribable. It’s hard to tell where he ends and you begin. The two of you moving in tandem, working hard to make the other feel as good as possible.
He’s vocal, more so than you ever expected him to be. When he’s not mumbling praises into your hair, he’s moaning or grunting, never wavering in his determination to give it all to you. His lips drag all over your skin as he plants a kiss right over your beating heart, then licking a stripe up your neck before sucking a mark behind your ear.
“Wanted you so bad. Never imagined - fuck,” he grunts out, his abs sliding against your stomach, tattoos glistening in exertion. “Y’ feel incredible.”
He was all consuming. Determined to stay as close to you as possible, occasionally propping himself on one elbow to drag his hand down your body, squeezing at your breasts, biting your lips. You couldn’t catch your breath, feeling like every inch of you was on fire. Every drag of his hips makes your toes curl, core clenching as you melt into the mattress.
You look up at the furrow in his brow, his hooded eyes staring back at you, pure concentration in hitting you just right. Fuck. You felt yourself careening towards your high once more, clenching around him as he groaned. You threaded your hand into his hair, pulling his mouth towards you. You kissed him deeply, clenching when he thrust just right, pulling away with a gasp.
“Fuck, H. I -”
“Y’close?” he asked, moaning when you nod. “Gonna come on my cock?”
“Yeah. Fuck -” you moan, sliding your hand between your bodies to rub at your clit. Sparks fly the second your fingers make contact, he mouths along your jaw as you circle your clit. He locks eyes with you as he drags his hips out before thrusting hard. It immediately sends you over the edge, your mouth open in a silent scream as your body shakes through it. You can feel it all the way down to your toes, the waves of pleasure consuming you once again. You can’t stop clenching around him as he bites into your skin.
“Fuck, baby. Just like that. Oh - shit. Gonna make me -” he moans, thrusting in short bursts, his face screwed up in determination, his muscles tense. A guttural moan punches out of him as he comes, hard. You can feel him empty into the condom as he ducks down to kiss you, rough and deep, moaning as his whole body shudders. It’s all you can do to hold tight to his hair, kissing him back as best you can. His kisses slow, turning softer before he buries his head into your neck as you both shake with aftershocks.
It’s silent for a few moments. Just the sounds of you both trying to catch your breath. You drag your hand up and down his back as he breathes you in, not daring to move quite yet. You let your legs slide down to the mattress as he pulls his head back to look at you, a relaxed, blissful expression on his face. And to your surprise, tears in his eyes.
He brings his hand up to cup your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone before leaning in to kiss you sweetly, sniffling once as he pulls away.
“Sorry I -” he shakes his head, shutting his eyes for a moment before opening them to stare right at you, his eyes soft with emotion. “That was incredible. I -”
He dives in to kiss you once more, moaning softly when you open your mouth to him, dragging your tongue against his before closing the kiss. He leans his forehead against yours.
“I never imagined it’d be that good. That it could feel like this. That we would…It’s never - I’ve never felt like this before. With anyone. ”
Tears spring to your eyes as you take in his earnest expression, the feeling on his body of yours, his hands on your skin.
“I know. Me too. That was…” You look up at him, the two of you staring in each other’s eyes, emotions you’re unable to articulate flowing through you. In awe that you’re both equally affected. You reach up, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, keeping your fingertips resting lightly on his face.
“You took such good care of me,” you whisper.
He blinks rapidly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, a whispered “Baby.” leaving his lips as he leans down to kiss you softly. You both just lay there, sweet kisses expressing the love words cannot.
You pull away with a soft sigh, looking up at him in a daze, taking a deep breath as you run your hand through his sweaty hair.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Chills erupt across your body as you lean up to capture his lips once more.
“Should probably pull out now.” he whispers against your lips as you snort.
“Romantic.”
He smacks a kiss against your temple as he leans back, pulling out as you both grimace. He leans back against his heels as he pulls the condom off, tying it off and throwing it into the trash next to the bed before collapsing on top of your body.
“Oof.” you groan as he laughs, planting slow kisses along your neck, before wrapping his arms around you and rolling onto his back, holding you close as you lay on top of him.
You look down at him, the post sex glow working wonders on him as he smiles sleepily at you.
“Tired you out, did I?” You ask with a smile that widens when he huffs out a laugh.
“You got me good, darling.” he whispers, pulling you closer and holding you against him as he brushes kisses along your forehead.
“Should probably pee,” you mumble.
“Sexy.”
You snort as you pull away from him, proving more to be more difficult than it should as he refuses to let you get too far. He eventually drops his hands as you roll off the bed and shuffle to the washroom.
You hurry over to the toilet to pee, flushing and standing up to wash your hands, almost gasping at your reflection in the mirror. You look well and truly fucked. Your hair is a bit of a rat’s nest, you’ve got bruises blooming all over your neck and chest but you’ve also got a glow that you’ve never seen before. You like this look on you.
You dry your hands, shuffling back into the bedroom as you hear soft snores. You look up to find him spread on the bed, still completely naked, and asleep.
You gently shake him awake as he looks over at you with bleary eyes.
“Might help to get under the covers.”
“Shit. Sorry didn’t mean to fall asleep -” he cuts himself off with a yawn. “Just did a lot of hard work, you know.”
“Trust me, I know. Gonna be feeling you for days.” He inhales sharply at that, eyes darkening as you look over at him.
“Yeah?” he says smugly, already sliding his way closer to you, his hand reaching out to grab you as you skeptically lift an eyebrow.
“You were snoring a minute ago, H.” you say, tugging at the covers to get him off of the bed.
He rolls his eyes at you, standing up and stretching and you get so distracted by the expanse of skin that you freeze for a moment.
“The covers, love?”
You snap back to attention to find him looking at you with a smug gleam in his eye. You pull the covers back and slide into bed, he immediately follows suit.
“Don’t want to fall asleep on you after I rocked your world.” He says with a yawn. “Could stay up and talk, if you wanted.”
“You just yawned like 8 times in the last 30 seconds.”
“That is an exaggeration,” he says a yawn breaking through his speech as he quickly clamps his mouth shut in an attempt to quell it. You look at him with a raised eyebrow as he smiles back meekly.
You lean in to give him a kiss, murmuring “Let’s go to sleep.”
“If you insist,” he says, as if he’s not the one already drifting off. You lean over to flip the lamp off and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you down so your head lays across his chest, as you wrap your arm around his waist, tangling your legs with his.
“Love you.” he mumbles sleepily, his breaths already coming in deeper, slower.
“Love you too,” you say, squeezing at his waist as you close your eyes, finding yourself drifting off to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Feeling more loved than you ever have in your life. Just you and your boy, in your own little bubble. You fall into a deep sleep, blissfully ignorant of just how soon this little love bubble you’ve found yourselves in would pop. Big time.
-----
a/n: wowweee. can we believe it?! thanks for sticking with me and my long ass updates if you have. would love to know your thoughts! pls pls pls.fingers crossed its not the worst smut you've ever read xo
taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles
451 notes · View notes
kae-karo · 1 month
Text
i was thinking about sketching this morning (as in, artists with sketchbooks and the practice of sketching just for fun or as practice with no intent of turning said sketches into a "finished piece")
and it got me thinking about writing, and how it simply would never occur to me to work on a story/scene/etc that i had no intention of turning into something that i would post as a finished work
**to be clear, i'm not talking about deciding to abandon a wip or working on a wip that i want to eventually finish but don't know if/when that would happen, i'm thinking specifically about writing with clear, up-front intention that i won't ever 'complete' the piece or polish it for the purpose of posting/publishing
41 notes · View notes
omenics · 6 months
Text
is leona a sassy man and is yuu a victim of the sassy man apocalypse
94 notes · View notes
jay-wasreblogging · 22 days
Text
What if after the Reichenbach Falls in their grief and mourning John and Mariana kind of get together?
There's no company anymore not when Sherlock's absence has left such a vast hole, not when John can't even log onto Spotify without crying looking at all the cases they went on and not when Mariana can barely pick up client's phone calls without feeling sick.
So there's no inappropriate workplace romance happening cause there isn't even a workplace anymore.
Mariana and John don't talk about Sherlock much, it's too painful and they certainly won't speak about their own personal feelings about him either, why would it matter anyways? He's dead.
They don't talk about it. They don't talk about how they still buy and stock up on Sherlock's pasta sauce when they go grocery shopping. They don't talk about Sherlock's room, about it being empty, about cleaning it out, about the fact that the man that occupied it would never come back. They don't talk about his last chemical experiment and equipment still on the kitchen table, untouched and unfinished. They don't talk about it. They just don't. Not even months after he's gone and won't. Ever.
Then the impossible happens, Sherlock comes back from death just casually strolling in to surprise them both. And afterwards Mariana has to help John after he fainted and then Sherlock after John punches him.
And John and Mariana are so full of happiness and relief! The three share kisses and hugs. But...what now though? They go from struggling with his lack of presence, the new routine of just the two of them and mourning Sherlock's death to now having not only him back but their routine and business.
And with everything seemingly being back to what it felt like, the want of what once was comes crashing down - Mariana and John break up to go back to a time before Sherlock's death, even though Sherlock doesn't agree (he just finds out) and tells them that they can only go forward.
Cue the angst of Mariana and John's breakup, John's unresolved feelings for Sherlock that he now has a chance to resolve, Mariana's lingering feelings for John and new found ones for Sherlock, Sherlock confronting his own feelings of jealousy and confusion towards Mariana and John starting a relationship when he was gone (and without him? If he didn't 'die' would they have asked him into the relationship? What about now? He wanted them both but did both want him? What does want even mean?? Does he want a platonic or romantic relationship with them? What even is the difference? And etc etc etc).
And then they got together somehow and all retired on a bee farm where Mariana sells their honey at the local farmers market, Sherlock tends to the bees and John is just a house hubby.
45 notes · View notes
lesbianmikenesmith · 6 months
Text
68 notes · View notes
Text
i love a/b/o steddie where they get started like so young that if it was someone i knew irl i'd have a panic attack. like,, mated right out of high school, baby pops out a year later, they've got like five kids by the time they're 25
thinking about an au where they were already together pre- start of s4 and steve goes through the whole thing like three months pregnant. like he's stressed about the baby and eddie and eddie's SUPER stressed about the baby and steve, like eddie's trying to get steve to sit this one out for the baby and steve has to yell at him to stop bc yeah, he's worried about losing their first child, but if he sat at home while everyone else dealt with the upside down and someone didn't come back??? he'd never be able to live with himself
and when the bats get eddie and steve tries to use the mating bond to share some of eddie's pain, help him hold on until they get to the hospital, eddie weakly tries to tell him not to, to think of the baby. and steve's just. not having it. and once eddie wakes up from his medically induced coma he's like :(( why'd you do that and steve is just. so mad. he says yeah, if i had lost the baby (he doesn't, she's fine) that would have been the most terrible pain i'd ever felt. but it would have been worse if i lost you. and eddie's like. oh. bc maybe part of him has always been thinking that steve's only stuck with him bc he's the father of their kid. but no, steve loves him.
so eddie's crying, and steve's crying, and then steve shows eddie the ultrasound they did during eddie's coma to check the baby hadn't been hurt by the week of stress and danger and pain-sharing, and it's the first time they've been able to actually see the shape of a baby in all the weird white noise of an ultrasound, and now they're both crying even harder
351 notes · View notes
heesulovebot · 1 year
Text
ik there's the contentious topic about categorizing things as bl and making the distinction between bl and queer media, and i do think there have been valid points in the discourse about how bl is changing and its going through a sort of r/evolution now that bl is getting pretty big (and i'm talking exclusively about asian bl here btw, so in this context it would be the globalization of asian bls). but i also think that it's important to not disregard history and bl's roots.
bl was created by women for women in the 1970s in japan. although from a feminist perspective, bl challenges gender and sexual norms, bring capitalism into the equation, and we're getting the fetishization of gay relationships for (predominantly) straight female consumption.
idt it's a "right or wrong" situation. i believe two truths can exist: bl is a capitalist venture that oftentimes perpetuates harmful stereotypes, but bl can also be liberation for a lot of people. especially asian bl—as a bisexual woc, seeing nonwhite queer media is so so important to me. and i am not asian, but i know it's especially been revolutionary for my fellow queer asian brothers, sisters, & enby siblings.
i read somewhere that the directors instructed juntaek to not watch (korean) bl when studying for his role in the eighth sense. i found this reeeeally interesting, since i've also seen people mention that the eighth sense is not a bl, but queer media. i also think it's important to point out that one of the directors/writers is a white european man, and i'm pretty sure he was the one who told juntaek to watch things like skam or call me by your name instead of kbls—i haven't seen skam but cmbyn is white queer cinema (also problematic, but i digress). in the past, there was also that british bl heartstopper (sorry besties i still haven't seen it i probably should), in which the author expressed that they did not want to label it as bl, but there was backlash as, at least the show, clearly drew inspiration from asian bl.
as a historically asian genre, how does this distinction (bl vs. queer) perpetuate the western hegemony of queer thought? usually when people make this distinction, i don't think they take into account that race plays as much as a part as queerness (intersectionality is so important). but on the other hand, i also understand that bl has clear tropes and narrative structures that make it a bl. we wouldn't call moonlight a bl, or the handmaiden a gl. but also, films are a different medium with less restrictions (if you've seen a korean film vs. a kdrama, you get me lol).
i definitely don't have an answer or anything. the eighth sense is filmed through such a queer lens and it touches on the nuances of the queer experiences in a way i haven't really seen in bl, but i still i find myself wary of proclaiming that it's not bl, ja feel? is the eighth sense (along with bls such as bad buddy, old fashion cupcake, to my star, etc.) a marker of the r/evolution of bl? i guess i just wanted to open up the conversation to hear people's thoughts, especially from my fellow queer pocs.
at the end of the day we're all here to be entertained, but i'm glad to see discourse and think it's fruitful in the long process of decolonizing our mindsets.
190 notes · View notes