#I don’t even think louis’ team bothered to know what happens

[rainbenrry23]

🤔

[friendlessghoul]

Hey there!

So not having read many biographies of Buster, how did he feel about being teamed up with Jimmy Durante? I know Buster got along with Roscoe Arbuckle and was good friends with him, but I'm curious to know if he and Durante got along.

Hey! Sorry for the delayed response, but here is what I was able to find. There isn't a whole lot in the books, but we do get an idea of how he felt, with additional context and all that.

James Curtis - A Filmmaker's Life -

(Pg 416) - Keaton heard that Mayer was out to build up Broadway acclaimed Schnozzola at his expense.

(Pg 418) - From the outset, it was clear to Keaton that he and Jimmy Durante lacked chemistry. “He tried hard, and I tried hard, but our styles, our timing, didn’t jibe.” Each extended the utmost courtesy to the other, Durante making no attempts at upstaging and Keaton giving him all the room he needed, even to the point of suggesting retakes on scenes where the Schnoz appeared to be overshadowed. 

(Pg 419) “Durante just can’t keep quiet,” Buster complained. “He’s going to talk no matter what in the thunder happens. You can’t direct him any other way.”

Tom Dardis - Keaton the Man Who Wouldn’t Lie Down -

(Pg 202) - Some people felt that Durante was brought in to fill out Busters pictures, to give them an extra dimension, but this was firmly denied by Weingarten.

No. Keaton was doing a certain amount of business. And we thought that Durante… in this particular role, would be fine, that’s all. We weren’t thinking of bolstering him. There were a number of pictures made, we tried our best. If it wasn’t good enough, that’s another thing. But we didn’t set out to destroy Buster….  

(PG 204 - 205) - Buster was unhappy working with Durante for two reasons. He was aware that Mayer had high hopes for “Schnozzola,” and that he was being given parts in Busters films as a showcase for his talent. Buster was quite sure that he and Durante didn’t belong in the same picture: 

Then of course, when you give me a Jimmy Durante— they brought him in there to play a part in a picture with me. Well, Durante just can't keep quiet. He’s going to talk no matter what happens. You can’t direct him any other way. Louis B. Mayer liked him very much; it could have been that he was brought out to replace me, I don’t know….

(Pg 205) - Buster disliked working with Durante for personal as well as professional reasons. Durante invariably punctuated all of his conversations with Buster by punching him on the upper arm and chest. Since Durante was, in Buster’s words, “strong as a bull,” this constant rain of punches really hurt, but Buster was simply too polite to tell him to stop. The punching continued unabated for the next year.

(Pg 221) - What did bother him was that MGM was no longer under obligation to star him in his films; the new contract made a point of the fact that he could be starred or co-starred as the studio saw fit. This contract made it possible for MGM to have Jimmy Durante as the official co-star of their films together.

MGM considered Durante fully Keaton’s equal and wanted to be able to indicate it on the film credits.

Buster Keaton & Charles Samuels - My Wonderful World of Slapstick -

(Pg 236) - The experiment I know most about was the one made by Louis B. Mayer when he teamed up Jimmy Durante and myself in a series of features. There is no one in the world like Durante, bless him, but in my opinion, we just did not belong in the same movies.

(Pg 237) - At any rate, as I see it, there was no way to mesh, match, or blend Durante's talents with mine. Yet Jimmy would have been great in the pictures that we did together if he would have been merely to do spots of comedy instead of playing a character all of the way through.

However, he was very good in the one picture we made together that had quality. I think this was because the character he played was very much like the real Jimmy Durante. The picture was Speak Easily, which was based on a Clarance Budington Kelland story and had a sound plot.

From the time Jimmy and I were teamed up I heard rumors that Mr. Mayer was planning to build him up at my expense. This didn't worry me much, although I can't say I liked it. With my record of successful pictures, I felt I was a fixture at M-G-M. I couldn't imagine anyone there wanting to get rid of me. If Jimmy Durante could replace me, it would be on his superior ability. Like a lot of men, the world considers modest and humble I had unshakable confidence in my talent and ability to hold the place that I had staked out for myself. Dana Stevens - Camera Man (Pg ) Though the two were friendly offscreen, Keaton admitted years later that Durante’s constant rain of chummy punches in the arm actually hurt. 

It doesn't seem as though there was any animosity towards Durante. Buster appeared to make the best of the situation as MGM was forcing them together and there wasn't much else he could do. He acknowledged that their style just wasn't meant to mix and that was all there was to it. They took plenty of photos together for publicity but not much else? There's probably more information out there but this is the extent in the books that I have. Their personalities didn't mix on or off the screen but it didn't cause any issues between them. I'd imagine partially due to Jimmy's boisterous friendly attitude and Buster being passive and never speaking up. Though I don't think there was much for Buster to have complaints about, other than being hit constantly.

Hope this helps and thank you for the ask! And now photos -

[louisisalarrie]

Hi! Do you think that either of them still want/need support from us as they seemed to do in the band? They both seem to protect their private lives way more now. And I guess that’s part of maturing and changing how you see the world and how it sees you. I mean, other than Louis shouting “him” in his concerts, he’s much more subdued now. That pair of blue/green trackies at the start of his USA leg was not a choice I’d have made, given the way a lot of his fans see that combination- unless he was making a subtle (hahahaha, that wasn’t subtle) nod to us. And H maybe (but the pics were grainy- although I’d like to think it was) wore a blue bandanna on one of his many, many walks round London last year.

I truly hope that they are happy together however that looks to them. I know, as you said in another ask, their relationship is unique, and I get that. I’ve been with my partner for 20 years, but due to his job we weren’t on the same continent for over half of last year. And that wasn’t unusual for us. Anyway, I’m rambling, just wanted to know your thoughts on our place in the fandom. Thanks!

Hey lovely, thanks for reaching out! And welcome to the show.

Louis and Harry both do live very different lives with very different careers these days. We aren’t seeing them interact at all, and it can be frustrating to still believe in it but barely see any of it as a comparison of the 1d days. And yes, they certainly did need our support more back then, because they weren’t used to the closeting. They were young, didn’t understand why their love could be seen as so wrong, and we’re struggling under the pressure from their team, including constant tours and albums etc., ya know? So I think they relied on our support so heavily to get them through, particularly with RBB and the Big Gay War.

But coming out, no matter who you are, but particularly if you’re coming out to millions of people and you can face severe backlash, is super terrifying. Their careers will be affected, their privacy gone, and trying to navigate that while touring and stunting and dealing with contracts from even the 1d days still hanging over their heads, would just be so tricky. It’s a huge plan and timeline they will need to work through, as to not crash and burn and fuck over people who quite literally hold their careers in their hands. Unless they get sick of it and just break one day and don’t care who will sue them and what will happen, then it’s gonna be a long process.

But throughout this long process, they’re gonna need us. They’ve needed us from the very start, and still to this day they see what we say and our support online and I’m sure they love that we’re still fighting for them, even though they haven’t been on the same bloody continent for god knows how long. They still see us loving them for who they truly are, and not lapping up their public personas like the rest of the GP. It would certainly feel very validating.

When they come out, boy they’re gonna need us. Shit is gonna hit the fan. The fans are gonna fight like crazy and it’s gonna be absolute chaos, which is probably another thing they understand could be very bad for their careers right now. But we’ll be supporting them and we’ll be here til the very end.

A lot of larries have left since the hiatus, because they felt they didn’t need to bother supporting Larry anymore because there wasn’t any content between them to support. They entirely blanked each other (except for a few mentions in interviews) and so people gave up. Felt like they were wasting their time on “guys who didn’t want to come out” and all that. So it’s pretty heartbreaking, but it can be very hard to stick around and show support for something which you aren’t actually seeing. It’s really sad, and I hope those true larries will support them throughout their coming out.

And wow, that must’ve been tricky being so far away from your partner for so long, but being with someone for 20 years definitely shows your love, understanding, patience, and acceptance of each other, which is truly beautiful. And it does seem similarly to Harry and louis now that they’ve been together for over a decade. They’re doing their thing now, whatever that looks like to them, and it’s kind of become pretty normal, but they’re making it work. They see us, and we see them.

In short, I think they still definitely want us, but the way they need us has probably shifted slightly. Not more or less, but they now need our support for them in different ways now that they’re solos and we aren’t seeing their love every day anymore. They’re probably shocked we’re all still here tbh hahahaha. The patience larries have is undeniable.

[alarrytale]

People need to realize that Louis travels to places most artists don’t. He did that for his European tour & latam. Places that aren’t in the best economic standing and most artists don’t feel it’s worth going to. Even though Louis keeps his prices reasonable compared to other artists, Louies were still sponsoring other Louies to go to latam dates so fans would get a chance to go if they can’t afford it. It’s clear when he performs in places like Mexico, he can sell tickets. 73k tickets were sold for that one show and no that doesn’t include the charity livestream for WarChildUK. That was purely in person tickets sold.

People need to leave their bubble and understand not every country is going to be in the same situation economically or have the same type of venues but that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve to have shows in their countries and see their fave artists. Louis and the Louies that sponsored people made that happen for those fans.

For a singer who isn’t played on the radio, he still pulled some good audiences and fans had fun.

Why does he even bother booking into a stadium of 55k size if he's only going to put 20k up for sale? Just so he can say he's played a stadium? I don't get it. All those empty sections looked awful.

Maybe because it’s not possible to get an arena with a capacity of 20k, most arenas is max 15k and often only 10k. Therefore rather book a stadium where you can make arrangements to fit the demand. Rather empty seats than disappoint fans who can’t get a ticket if they choose a 10k arena.

I remember them changing the venue in one country because of high demand and the fans were furious because of that, therefore I think they want to avoid such an issue again and chooses a large capacity venue from the start.

Alternatively he should have several dates in the same city, but with a world tour like his it would be almost impossible because of the amount of dates he already had

I'm guessing it's because there isn't an alternative option when he's due there that fits his demand? And he's not sure of the demand and would rather overbook and let everyone who wants to come see him, rather than book a 10K venue and have to turn down 10k people? //

There are plenty of 20k venues in Buenos Aires and Sao Paulo. These are enormous cities. I think Louis thought about what 1d and Harry sold and thought he could sell similar as he's really popular but maybe people didn't have much money to spare this year.

Hi, anons!

I think all of you make great points. Louis does put up shows in countries, and in places that usually don't have many big artist visit. He's playing "Festningen" in Trondheim like lol? He does keep his ticket prices reasonable, or as low as possible. We don’t know how many venues are available to him at the date he's visiting. It may not be possible to book three nights at a 5k venue, if the demand is 15k, and there are no 15k venues free. Arenas are usually fully booked, because they're so versatile. Dog shows, car shows, concerts, ballroom dancing, stand up shows you name it. Stadiums are usually for sporting events or concerts, and are easier to book, with less demand. If it's less demand, prices are lower if it's outside of sporting season. If it was expensive to book, ticket prices would need to be much higher. They aren’t.

While i think Louis and his team were unsure of the demand in certain places (they miscalculated big time in Asia), i don't think they aimed for 1D or Harry numbers. They know how his streams are faring, measure his engagement and know how many watched aotv. They have a good read on the numbers. They don't do things without making a profit.

The venue change you talk about was a downgrade, not an upgrade. He played for 2.5k in Indonesia after changing the venue. Again, miscalculating big time in Asia. This was also after the Asia leg cancellation, in which he managed to piss of most of his fanbase by poor handling and communication. So... He did pull 73k i Mexico, and like i've mentioned many times now, he can easily pull 20k in major cities like NY, LA and London.

I think he's doing decent numbers, while trying to visit as much of the world as he can.

[berlinini]

In adavance I’m so sorry for this long ass bs I just have had so much on my mind lately and need to vent .

As someone who was recently larrie but has stepped away from that one thing I am gonna say is that not everything Louie’s say about larries is always right, one thing I will say is that there is a large portion of the larrie fandom that favours Louis, (I was one of them) hence why now I’m a solo louie it was never an aesthetic or some cute thing for me I’ve always been in Louis’ lane from 2010 when they were made a band, (I didn’t become a larrie until 2018 when I re-entered the fandom) one of the biggest flaws with the 1D fandoms, ot5/4’s is that if you are a fan of multiple of the boys you cannot have a favourite you have to support them all equally and the reality of it is for many that this is just not possible it’s one of the reasons I never called myself an ot5/4 (I also don’t trust them what with the downfall of Liam this year and people acting all cool and claiming they never streamed his music I just know some of them are fake ass liars and don’t stream Louis) purely because I knew I would never support the others like I support Louis, so I listen to some of them and their music, sure but that’s pretty much as far as that will go with relation to other boys. So that’s a huge flaw because people within ot5/4’s fandom and then even the subfandoms expect equal support which is just never gonna be given unfortunately, now I’m not making excuses I’m just trying to show that nuance and balance is never a possible thing among a fandom like this that has far too many opinions and fandoms.

So much about the larrie fandom has bothered me for years, the caring more about proving Louis and Harry are together rather than just listening to what they have to say/sing the digging around in the backgrounds of interviews to prove they were in the same location, the accusing them of lying constantly (yes they do it to both of the boys, a lot more to Louis because unfortunately he’s had the burden of denying things and having to lie over the last 12 years all while Harry has sat back and never confirm nor denied anything) oddly enough his lack of denial or confirmation somehow makes larries trust Harry and what he says more than Louis, but I took a step away from larrie Twitter and made a solo louie account recently just before FITF dropped actually I kept my larrie account cause a part of me still rooted for L&H but honestly since the whole promo for FITF (not to mention FITF has very little of any songs that link to Harry) started my viewpoint on Larry crumbled, there was so much but the biggest thing was everytime Louis dropped something or something positive happened for him boom there HSHQ were dropping another kind of bomb whether it be a new single release, a new music video or the bloody holivia breakup dropping the same day just an hour or so after Louis got his first ever solo no.1 in the UK and guess what it completely drew away the entirety of the attention of this amazing milestone for Louis and shifted the focus to Harry yet again (as I said balance is not realistic when it’s a fandom trying to balance liking and supporting 2 artists equally & his team time things just right after something with Louis happens never before not to mention Louis had like no coverage of the no.1 but guess what holivia breakup articles were everywhere funny that) and it was after that I completely lost my patience with the fandom and with Harry and his team. While I don’t think Harry directly makes these decisions to do these things he definitely doesn’t stop his team from doing them and that is enough for me to be fed up. At first I thought it was odd and would get sus when something would happen with Louis and right behind something would happen with Harry but I thought that it may have been a coincidence but something that many larries will often say is ‘there are no coincidences in this fandom’ who knew that would come back to haunt larries, so yeh after that I was like yeh there are no coincidences that being that there is a blatant effort from Harry’s team to overshadow everything Louis does. Some people may shake it off but I just can’t anymore whether it’s from Harry or not he’s ignorant (or atleast acting ignorant) towards it and I don’t like it I just lost so much respect for him lately and don’t understand how people can’t see the obvious coincidences between them. They’re promo nearly always has overlapped, Harry’s album released back in May with one single it’s not a coincidence they waited until the last quarter of the year to release a 3rd single. The difference in morals is another thing I’ve noticed, while you have Louis on one end saying things like ‘ticket prices are too high and I don’t want to bring in a certain crowd’ to Harry who blatantly again is ‘ignorant’ to the cost of his concerts you’ve also got Louis being thoughtful of fans trying to include them in everything always thanking us (he’s literally written songs for the fandom or been inspired by the fandom for songs!) and then you’ve got Harry who well, walked into oncoming traffic to escape fans 💀 (and yes I understand neither of them owes us anything I actually agree wholeheartedly sometimes I think we don’t deserve the love we get from Louis) but in the end we do get it and I feel if they truly were ‘so perfect for eachother’ their actions would reflect that and well one of them isn’t reflecting that at all.

.

[watchmegetobsessed]

SLEEPLESS

a/n: omg! it's been so long since i last wrote something for harry so it feels a bit weird but in a good way to be back. i've been spending more time offline so writing hasn't been going that fast like before, but im working on a few other stuff too! just please be patient with me, im trying my besti swear! so now enjoy this oneshot of two oblivious and stupid roommates who start sharing a bed...

pairing: Roommate!Harry x reader

word count: 8.1k

masterlist

Living with three boys has its perks but also a lot of downsides too. It’s not how you planned, you were set to move in with one of your friends from second year, but she bailed on you last minute, leaving you with no place to live when most of the houses were already taken for the next at least one year. You were bracing yourself to sleep under a bridge or something already when your heroes came along.

You went to high school with Harry Niall and Louis, but you weren’t exactly in the same friend group, just knew about each other. Then you ended up in the same Lit class freshman year with Harry and he was basically your pass into their little group. You hit it off pretty easily and you always wondered why you didn’t become friends before college. Later you had two more classes with him in the second semester and it was just all a coincidence that he found out about your living situation.

“Why don’t you move in with us?” he prompted one afternoon when you were studying together in the library.

“I’m not sharing a room with any of you, Harry,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“You wouldn’t have to. We had a fourth mate living with us but he dropped out about a month ago. You could take his bedroom.”

“Are for real? You should talk about it with the boys first, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind it. They like you too and if I’m being honest, the place could use the touch of a woman,” he smirked and you just rolled your eyes, but you were incredibly thankful for the offer.

So after talking with Niall and Louis about it and once they gave their amens on the situation, you officially moved in with the three of them.

You’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been times when you thought about choosing the bridge, living with boys is not exactly a dream. They are messy, sometimes loud and oblivious about certain things women do and need. You’ll never forget Niall’s face when you packed the shelf above the toilet with your tampons and pads. The horror in his eyes as he examined all the different sizes and types.

“But why so many? I don’t get it why you need the large ones and the mini ones too,” he huffed.

“Because I vary them according to the strength of my flow.”

“Bless you,” he scoffed and just walked away.

They tend to leave their clothes around the house and they don’t always realize when it’s time to let some fresh air into the place either. Harry has a sixth sense wanting to use the bathroom when you’re in and Louis always forgets to get rid of his spoiled food from the fridge. Tini things that surely got you thinking if it was a good idea to move in with them. But then there are times when you can’t even imagine sharing a home with anyone else than these three idiots.

The way Harry always leaves you a cup of coffee on the counter when he has an early class on mondays and wednesdays, how Niall always waits for you to get home after your night shifts at the restaurant you’ve been working at, but he always just says he was watching Supernatural on TV. You love that Louis goes out of his way to get you your favorite pastry for breakfast on sundays when he goes for his morning runs. But the absolute best is that you never feel alone or bored with these three around. Something is always happening and they make sure to involve you in everything, making you feel like part of their little pack.

Tonight is Thursday and Thursdays are movie nights in your home. It’s been a tradition since the first week and you haven’t missed any of them. Sitting on the couch at your usual spot, you laugh as Niall growls in annoyance when you suggest to watch another rom-com.

“Not again!” he protests, sitting on the floor by the coffee table you and Harry thrifted a few months ago after the previous one was broken at a smaller party held in the house.

“Why? I bet Harry would love it!” you grin, glancing at the guy in talk who is now entering the room with a big bowl of popcorn.

“Of course he would, because he is a pussy! And the two of you always team up, dragging Louis with you so I can never watch something I enjoy!” Niall whines as Harry sits next to you, not too bothered by his friend’s cries.

“Come on, I bet you enjoyed Crazy, Stupid Love last week!” you laugh, remembering how he whined for the first part, then fell asleep at the end.

“Love, if you think that was enjoyment, I wouldn’t want to be your boyfriend,” Niall scoffs and you gasp at his reply.

“Hey!” you snap at him, but can’t help laughing. This is how it always goes with you and Niall, the non-stop bickering can sometimes drive Harry and Lou insane.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” Harry asks, throwing some popcorn into his mouth as he gets comfortable, an arm resting on the back of the couch behind you, the other one busy with the snack in his lap.

“There is this new horror I’ve been dying to see!” Niall’s blue eyes light up right away, but you’re fast to break that shine.

“Nah, no way. I’m not watching a horror movie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I fucking hate them and they scare the shit out of me.”

“That’s like the whole point!” he protests, but you shake your head no again.

“What are you fighting about again?” Louis asks, walking into the room after his quick shower, the smell of his body wash filling the room for a few moments.

“I want to watch a horror movie, but Y/N is a little baby and she doesn’t want to.”

“I’m not a baby! I just don’t enjoy watching people get killed or demons sucking the life out of someone!” Niall just rolls his eyes at your response.

“But it’s always what you or Harry wants to watch, why can’t I choose just this once?”

“That’s not true, we watch movies you like too!” you retort, but Niall gives you an unimpressed look. “We watched that crime thing, that was your choice!”

“That was three months ago, Y/N,” he sighs and as you do some quick math you realize that he is right.

“Hey, he has a point. Let’s just watch what he wants this one time, yeah?” Harry curls his arm that’s been on the back of the couch around your shoulder and he pulls you to his side, squeezing you gently.

“But I hate horrors,” you pout, knowing well that it’s already kind of settled, you lost this battle.

“It’s just a movie. And if you get scared in the night, you can sleep at mine,” he offers with a wink that surely makes your heartbeat fasten a bit.

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a tiny crush on Harry, even back in high school, when you didn’t really know him. He was the cool guy, but not the douchebag type, more like the one that was nice to everyone and earned their respect and liking. Getting to know him just proved that he really is a great guy, but you figured he would never feel the same way about you. These three guys only saw you as their sister and that was in a way kinda worse than being friend zoned, but there’s nothing you can do about it, so you just decided to come to peace with your situation. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered when you see him wander around the house in just his boxers or when he gets a little touchy with you, which happens a lot, because that’s just how he is. Hands on your shoulders, a little squeeze on your hips, the gentle touch of his fingers on your back, they happen all the time and they get your pulse up every time. You can only hope it’s not that noticeable.

Niall finally gets what he wants and you agree to watch that stupid horror movie. It doesn’t start off too bad, but it quickly escalates and makes you shudder every time the screen gets a little darker or the music is foreshadowing that something is about to happen.

“Jesus fuck!” you jump a little when the killer appears out of nowhere in the scene.

“You alright?” Harry asks, peeking down at you.

“I fucking hate this dude,” you mumble, rubbing your face with your hands, to get your shit together. Harry chuckles lightly next to you, his arm pulling you to his side close and you gladly sink against him, the warmth of his body giving you some comfort and a sense of safety.

Your eyes are on the screen, but your mind is dancing around how his fingers are delicately running up and down your arm, drawing circles and little shapes on your skin. It could put you to sleep easily, even with the woman screaming on the screen after seeing her husband get killed.

“Just imagine the guy with a funny mustache,” Harry murmurs, leaning closer to you so he doesn’t bother the other two guys with his comment. “Or maybe in a ridiculous outfit.”

“Like… in a onsie?” you ask, squinting your eyes at the screen.

“Could be, yeah,” he chuckles quietly. “Just imagine him running through the woods in a onsie with bunnies all over it.”

You can’t push your laughter down, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t bother the others. Harry just smirks, giving you a squeeze as you’re still melted against his side on the couch, legs pulled up to your chest, while his are spread out in front of him.

“Definitely not that scary,” you giggle and Harry hums in agreement.

“Would you mind getting a fucking room, you guys? You have two, in fact!” Niall snaps at you playfully, when you start laughing again.

“Sorry, sorry!” you clear your throat, your cheeks heating up at the comment, but luckily it’s dark enough to hide your embarrassment. Niall is always quick to make dirty jokes and tease you in a way that makes you nervous, especially when it involves Harry as well. He has made plenty of comments about you and Harry since you’ve moved in, implying that the two of you sometimes act like a couple or that you should hook up. Harry is always quick to shake them off, that’s how you know he couldn’t even take the thought seriously.

At the end of the movie you feel like it wasn’t bad, not with Harry holding you close at least.

“Will you be screaming tonight, Y/N?” Niall teases you, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Either way it’s gonna be your fault.”

“I can live with that!” he laughs, bidding his goodbye before he shuts the door of his bedroom behind him.

You do your usual evening routine, get ready to bed and by the time you’re done in the bathroom all the boys have retired into their rooms. The hallway stands dark in front of you, only a tiny bit of light coming from your bedroom since you left your bedside lamp on in there, but you still can’t help the eerie feeling that washes over you. That movie didn’t sit right with you and now you have to face the aftermath of it.

Switching the lights in the bathroom off you sprint into your bedroom, pictures from the movie flashing in your mind of the killer just jumping out of nowhere. You shut the door and lean your back against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. Tonight is going to be long.

No matter how hard you try, you just can’t fall asleep. You’re way too alerted, opening your eyes at the tiniest of sounds around you, which is unfortunate, because your window is looking over the main street, unlike two other rooms in the house, that are facing the small backyard. Harry and Louis have the luck to have those rooms.

Every time you’re about to fall asleep something from the movie sneaks into your thoughts and you get scared to death. Soon, you realize you won’t be able to sleep on your own tonight.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you wonder if Harry really meant that offer that you can sleep with him or not. Part of you is convinced it was just a joke, but when you hear someone shouting down the street you push your doubts aside and you quickly find yourself making your way to Harry’s room.

You knock on the room lightly, not wanting to wake anyone else up. The last thing you need is Niall seeing you go into Harry’s room in the middle of the night.

No answer comes from inside, but you won’t just leave it at that. Opening the door you’re facing another dark room, barely making out the furniture, but you already know the route by heart. Making it to the bed your eyes finally adjust to the darkness and you can see Harry lying on his side, sleeping peacefully. Squatting down you place a hand to his shoulder and give him a tiny shake.

“Harry?” you call out quietly, but his answer is just a huff. “Harry, it’s me,” you try again, squeezing his arm. He furrows his eyebrows before slowly blinking his eyes open, finding you in his sight.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks in that groggy, low voice you love hearing in the morning so much.

“I can’t… Did you mean that I can sleep here if I’m scared?” you ask, afraid that he might just have a good laugh and send you back to your room. For a long moment, he just blinks at you before nodding his head and you feel relief washing over you.

“Sure,” he hums.

“O-okay then I’ll bring a blanket and take the floor and--”

“Shut up, you are not sleeping on the floor,” he growls, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into bed with him as he scoots over, making you space on the mattress.

It’s a bit weird at first, lying in bed with Harry, especially because it’s just queen sized, so there’s not much space between the two of you, but it seems like Harry doesn’t mind it so why should you?

Your nerves are a lot calmer with Harry next to you, but maybe it’s still because of the movie or because you’re a bit anxious about the whole situation, you just still can’t relax enough to fall asleep.

“Y/N, no one is gonna kill you here,” Harry speaks up surprising you because you thought he has already fallen back asleep.

“I know, I know,” you whisper, trying to sound convincing, but you can’t fool anyone, especially not him.

He huffs deeply and before you could realize what’s happening, Harry’s arm is curled around your waist, pulling you against him, spooning you from behind, the warmth of his body wrapping your figure almost entirely.

“If a murderer comes, they will have to fight me first, alright? Now sleep,” he mumbles against your hair, squeezing you gently. All at once, you couldn’t care about killers and dark shadows around you, because Harry was right there, holding you tight and there was nowhere you wanted to be more than right there.

You slept like a baby. Harry’s closeness kept every nightmare away from you and the morning came with ease. Harry’s phone wakes the two of you up at eight, because he has a morning class at 9.30. The two of you are completely tangled up in each other, lying on your side facing each other, Harry’s arms are wrapped around you, while yours are hugging his waist. Groaning at the sound of his alarm, he rolls to his back to reach for the phone on the nightstand and then he finally turns it off. It’s bright outside, the darkness of the night finally long gone. You’re still groggy when Harry rolls back, his arm coming back around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world and in a sense, it feels like that. But as you both slowly wake up, you realize that you might be a little too close. Slowly but surely you let go of each other, rolling to your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hope I didn’t kick you in my sleep,” you smile at him, peeking over at him, hoping to break the awkwardness of the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes, before pushing himself up and off the bed. You follow him with your gaze as he steps to his dresser and grabs a pair of clean underwear. “I’ll put on a coffee while I shower, want one too?” he asks, though you know he could make one for you anyway.

“Sure, thank you,” you nod and he nods back, yawning as he walks out of the room, leaving you lying in his bed, a bit confused and kind of aching to be held by him again.

Two days pass by, everything is going as per usual, neither you nor Harry brings up that you spent the night in his bed that one particular time. Now it’s saturday and you all were planning to go out, but a sudden storm has cancelled your plans, so the evening turned into a cozy, lazy hangout instead of a wild party at some frat house.

Louis decided to work on a paper that’s due in two weeks, Niall has been relentlessly swiping on Tinder while you and Harry are spawled out on the couch, watching some shitty action movie that was on TV, since you both were too lazy to choose one and put it on. Deep down you’re a little happy you don’t have to spend the evening in a crowded, smelly house, drinking cheap alcohol.

Harry gets up from his seat to grab himself a drink just when Niall growls in annoyance.

“What is it?” you ask.

“They keep unmatching with me after we’ve talked a little!”

“Have you thought about the reason?” you smirk at him, knowing well that Niall probably isn’t the easiest to talk to, he surely takes it too far too soon.

“Well they probably don’t like that I ask them if I can go over,” he shrugs, making you laugh.

“You’d go over in the pouring rain?” Harry asks, returning to his spot on the couch. He puts his drink to the coffee table and instead of sitting into his previous position, leaning against the arm of the couch, he lies down, laying his head to your thigh, making your breath hitch for a moment.

“Of course not!” Niall rolls his eyes. “But I thought it would make them think I would do anything for them.”

“It makes you seem desperate,” Harry retorts, earning a questioning look from his friend. “What? It does!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does,” you nod in agreement. “Going over in the middle of a storm just to fuck? Sounds like you’re having a hard time finding someone.”

“Women are so fucking complicated, and for what?!” he growls, before storming off to his bedroom, like an angsty teenager, leaving you and Harry alone.

He doesn’t move, his head stays on your thigh using it as a pillow. His curls are tickling the soft skin on your thigh and you have to fight the urge to play with his hair or scratch his scalp. You stay like this for the rest of the movie and when he gets up you almost want to pull him back.

“Alright, I’m fucked, I’m gonna go to bed,” he yawns, stretching his arms out into the air as he heads into his bedroom. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Harry!” you call after him as you watch his frame disappear down the hallway.

Sighing, you slide down on the couch, cursing under your breath that you’re still so hung up on Harry. You really thought that you had it under control, but lately those damn butterflies are acting up in your stomach at everything he does.

“I’m pathetic,” you mumble under your breath just as the sky rumbles outside with a blinding lightning, making you jump with a squeak. “Shit,” you huff, already knowing that falling asleep will be a pain in the ass. Again.

You’ve always hated storms, they make you think that something bad is about to happen, a tree is about to fall into the window or a lightning will blow up the building. It’s kind of stupid, you know it, but you just can’t help it.

Tossing and turning, you jump every time a lightning flashes somewhere outside and a few seconds later the thunder rips through your whole body, almost making you fall off the bed.

“Oh God,” you let out a shaky breath. You have no idea how long it is until the Storm finally stops and you’d really like to have a good night's sleep. So pushing your anxious thoughts to the side, you get out of bed and head over to Harry’s room once again.

It’s such a deja vu from a few nights ago, as you gently knock on the door you wait again, but this time you actually get an answer.

“Yeah?” you hear him call out from inside and you slowly open the door, peeking your head inside. Harry is lying in bed, his head propped up against the headboard as he is scrolling through his phone. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting the phone aside as he sits up.

“I just, I-I know it’s stupid, but I was thinking… I don’t know--”

“Y/N, just tell me, alright? Come on in,” he gestures for you and you slip into the room, closing the door behind you before sitting to the edge of the bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep during storms…” you admit, looking into his eyes, hoping he gets the hint where you want to head with it. He stares back at you for a moment before he scoots over, lifting the covers up, giving you the green light to join him.

Relieved, you climb over to him, making yourself comfortable as he wraps the blanket over you, his arm immediately coming to cradle you, this time pulling you to his chest so your head is laid upon his shoulder, a hand gently placed onto his hard chest, probably right above where his butterfly tattoo is adorning his abdomen.

This is now easily your favorite place. Safe and tight in Harry’s arms, protected from anything and everything, like you’re in a little bubble as soon as you get on his bed.

Lightning strikes outside again and you shiver a little. Harry probably notices it, because he tightens his hold around you, as if it’s his way telling you that he is here and nothing bad is gonna happen. Eventually, you’re able to shut the outside out and only focus on Harry’s warmth, the touch of his hand on your arm and his even breathing. And then finally, you drift off to sleep.

This morning is different from the previous one you spent here. There’s no alarm since it’s Sunday, neither of you have anything in particular to do, so you wake up feeling rested, the Sun shining through his half drawn in curtains, no trace of last night’s storm can be noticed from where you’re lying in bed, the sky is as clear as ever. Sometime during the night you got tangled in a way where Harry is the one now cuddling you, his head lying on your chest, hugging you as if you were a giant teddy bear, his leg thrown between yours, lightly snoring against your sleep shirt. You can only see his mop of hair and the urge to play with them is back, but this time, you give in.

Leaving one hand on his back, you move the other one to his unruly locks, gently playing with one before you comb your fingers through it, lightly scratching his scalp. Harry hums in pleasure, shifting from his dreams back to reality, but he doesn’t move, just keeps humming as you massage his scalp.

“It’s not a good morning, it’s the best,” he mumbles groggily, making you chuckle at his words.

One of his hands is flat against your ribcage and the damned butterflies start dancing when you feel his fingers gently stroke your side as you keep playing with his curls. This feels so idyllic, as if you’ve been like this forever. You wish that was true.

Groaning as he stretches, Harry rolls to his back, making you instantly miss his body pressed against yours. He rubs his eyes, sighing deep as he blinks up at the ceiling a few times, then he turns his head to the side, looking at you.

Just when he is about to say something, outside his door it sounds like someone just broke a pile of plates and it’s followed by Niall’s usual annoyed growl. You both get out of bed to go and check what happened, not even thinking about how it might appear that you both are coming from Harry’s room in the morning.

Harry flings the door open and there is Niall, collecting pieces of a plate from the floor, his breakfast scattered down the hallway as well while he curses under his breath.

“What happened?” Harry asks, picking up a bigger piece from the plate.

“Fucking tripped,” he growls back, glancing up just for a moment, then back down, but then he processes that you’re standing behind Harry, in his room, in the morning. “What the fuck are you doing in Harry’s room?” he bluntly asks, quickly forgetting about the mess he just made.

“What?” you ask nervously, your pulse quickening in an instant. Harry stands up, seemingly not too bothered by Niall’s question.

“You slept in his room?!”

“She did,” Harry answers, leaning against the doorframe.

“Wait, are you two fucking?” Niall’s eyes widen, snapping back and forth between you and Harry.

“Just because two people sleep in the same bed, doesn’t mean they are fucking, Niall,” Harry chuckles, seemingly amused by the situation that’s got your stomach knotted. Louis’ door opens and he walks out, his hair a little messy, but already dressed, a mug halfway filled with coffee in his hand.

“Wha’s this circus out here?” he asks, looking around, his eyes scanning over the mess on the floor.

“Did you know these two are fucking?” Niall asks him and Harry lets his head drop back at his words.

“Are you?” Louis simply questions and you shake your head no.

“We are not. Y/N can’t sleep in a storm so she came over to mine.”

“Funny, she doesn’t come to me when she’s scared,” Niall scoffs.

“I never came to you because you don’t understand that sleeping together doesn’t mean sex,” you retort, though your ears are practically burning from the rising anxiety inside you.

“Wait, whoa. This wasn’t the first time you two slept together?”

“She was scared after your stupid horror movie too,” Harry shrugs.

“Wow, so are you guys a thing now or what?”

“Niall!” Harry growls and you’re not entirely sure what bothers you more. Niall’s shock and interrogation or the way Harry seems so cool and unbothered, like it’s no big deal. Maybe because for him it really isn’t, it’s only about the sleeping, nothing else, even though the cuddles are a little beyond the lines of friendship.

“What? I’m just asking the important stuff! Am I not allowed to tell dirty jokes to Y/N because you’ll cut my prick off?”

“You shouldn’t tell those anyway,” Louis chimes in and you nod in agreement.

Seeing that the conversation is just getting more and more awkward with each passing moment you decide to pull yourself out of it. Pushing yourself past Harry you mumble an excuse me before rushing back into your room, the three boys eyeing you curiously as you shut the door behind you, finally putting a physical barrier between you and them.

You shouldn’t be this offended, it’s not like any promises were made and you should have known better and not fall for him more than you already did. It was silly of you to think that there was anything more behind these nights spent curled up against each other, or when you woke up tangled and melted together. It was never what you hoped it to be.

Then and there you decide it’s better if you distanced yourself from him, or at least go back to how it was before. No bed sharing, no cuddling and preferably no bitter feelings.

It all goes well, because you have a pretty busy week after that day, you always have something to do and it’s not like you spent the night with Harry randomly, so it was evident that you stayed in your room so far.

But about a week later another storm was threatening to strike. The sky was gradually darkening all afternoon and now it’s only five o’clock, but it feels like eight. It’s Sunday, you’re quite exhausted since you were working until three. Niall was out somewhere with some of his coursemates and Louis went home for the weekend, won’t be back until Tuesday. It’s just you and Harry, who’s been sprawled out on the couch in only his sweatpants while you’re making yourself an early dinner so you can go to bed soon and have a good night’s sleep.

It doesn’t take long for the rain to start pouring, you’ve just gotten out of the shower when the first thunder rips through the place, making you gasp in fear. Harry’s head snaps around, looking in your way where you’re standing at the bathroom door, a questioning look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say a word. Ignoring his gaze, you just make your way into your bedroom, not even thinking about what could be on his mind. Is he thinking about whether you’ll ask to sleep with him again or he doesn’t care about it at all?

By the time you are ready to go to bed, the storm is fully raging outside, making your insides tremble every time you see a lightning or the thunder breaks the quietness in the house. You make one last trip to the kitchen, finding Harry leaned against the counter as he eats an apple.

“Going to bed early?” he asks as you pour yourself some water.

“Mhm,” you nod, avoiding looking at him.

“Everything alright?”

“Sure, I’m just tired,” you force a small smile onto your face just when a thunder rumbles outside, making you jump. Harry is watching you curiously and kind of expectantly, but you’re doing your best ignoring it. Instead, you just grab your water and head back to your room. “Good night.”

“Night, Y/N,” he calls after you, and you can feel his burning gaze on your back right until you close the door behind you.

Your plan to sleep a good ten hours goes right out the window. It doesn’t seem like the storm is about to calm anytime soon, so you’re stuck to suffer through it on your own. You’ll be damned to go to Harry’s, that would be an instant heart break and you just can’t take that right now. Long, torturous hours pass by with you lying awake in bed and part of you wants to go running over to Harry, but you force yourself to stay. It’s not happening tonight.

You fall asleep sometime after two in the morning when the thunder and lightning have stopped. Unfortunately, you need to wake up early in the morning, so when your phone’s alarm shakes you out of your sleep, you feel like absolute shit. Dragging yourself out of bed appears to be the hardest thing right now. As you make your way out, you are met with an all too familiar figure sitting at the small dining table, two cups of coffees in front of him, one obviously made for you.

Harry’s eyes snap up at you curiously, taking in your terrible looks as you head to the bathroom.

“Morning,” you mumble under your breath.

“Good morning’,” he nods in your way and though he doesn’t say anything else, you can tell he has a few thoughts about your current state.

Once you’re done with your morning business in there you join him at the table, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Rough night?” he asks, eyes examining your face.

“Kinda.”

“The storm?”

You don’t answer, just nod your head. He remains silent, but you can feel that he is dying to ask another question.

Why didn’t you come over?

You’re glad he doesn’t actually asks you, because you wouldn’t be able to give either a normal answer or say anything without starting to cry. Instead, you just grab your coffee and head back into your bedroom to get ready for the day.

That week on Friday all four of you are invited to a party. At first you want to cancel, but some of your friends from classes will be there too and it’s been ages since you’ve been to a great party, so you decide to tag along with the boys.

For the first half of the evening you go your separate way, spending time with people you don’t actually live with and see every day. One drink follows the other, though you make sure you don’t go farther than getting tipsy. You’re not in the mood to deal with a nasty hangover in the morning.

Sometime after your third or fourth drink you run into Niall and he pulls you into their little circle that also involves Harry. When he sees that you’ve joined them, his eyes light up and goes out of his way to get next to you.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” he whines, slurring his words as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to keep you at his side. He is definitely drunk, that you’re sure of.

“It’s been just about two hours, Harry,” you roll your eyes, but can’t push your smile down. You’d be lying if you said you’re not enjoying having him so close. Your dynamic hasn’t been the same since you stopped sleeping in his bed. Not that it was such a regular activity, it only happened two times.

“But I missed you, I feel like we haven’t… haven’t talked in so long!” he huffs, knitting his eyebrows together. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asks leaning closer, so your conversation can somewhat be private.

“That’s silly. Of course I haven’t!”

“But it feels like that,” he pouts with glossy eyes. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Sure,” you nod, the bitter taste of lying filling your mouth.

“Alright, cool,” he smirks and pulling closer he kisses into your hair before he engages with the rest of the group again, keeping his arm around you as if it wasn’t a big deal.

For the rest of the evening you simply don’t leave his side and not because he doesn’t let you, but because you don’t want to. Harry is not the only one missing the other, this week you’ve noticed that even though you’ve been keeping yourself busy, your thoughts always took you back to one particular, curly haired boy. Despite everything that’s been going on, he is your friend first and foremost who you love spending time with and talking about anything and everything.

Both of you are intoxicated, Harry a bit more than you, but you’re having a blast playing beerpong or ruining Niall’s chances with girls he is trying to pick up. You’re genuinely having an amazing time and it wouldn’t be the same without Harry.

Arriving back home your little group splits, everyone using the bathroom after the other and you’re the last one in line, because you always take the longest. By the time you’re finished, Louis and Niall are both locked up in their rooms, but Harry’s door is still open, some dim lighting illuminating the hallway. As you approach it, you find him throwing his dirty clothes into the hamper, but his head perks up when he sees you.

“Good night, H,” you sigh, quite tired and in need of a good sleep, but before you could head into your own bedroom, Harry grabs your wrist and pulls you into his. “What is it?”

“Sleep here,” he simply prompts, already leading you to the bed.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“I-I… I don’t--” you stutter, feeling flustered from his offer.

“Come on, you can’t say no,” he tells you, already crawling under his covers and then he holds them up as the invitation.

Taking a deep breath you follow him and make yourself comfortable in your almost usual spot. Harry’s arm falls over your waist in an instant, spooning you from behind as he hums pleased. But a few moments later he lifts his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“You know you can say no, right? I was just joking.” Looking back at him you give him a small smile. Even drunk he makes sure you aren’t doing anything you don’t want to, but how could you not want it? You’ve been aching to sleep next to him all week, especially after the last storm when you suffered alone in your room.

“I know, Harry.”

“Alright, okay,” he nods, his head dropping back to the pillow. “I missed this,” he mumbles with a sigh.

“Yeah?”

“Mm, sleeping alone sucks,” he hums and in a split second, your heart breaks.

Harry didn’t want to sleep with you, he just wanted to sleep with someone and you were the one there. It has nothing to do with you.

You want to blame him, you want it to be his fault that your chest is now aching, knowing that it truly doesn’t mean the same thing to him it does to you, but you know you can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, so once again, you’re left with a sinking heart wrapped up into Harry’s embrace that suddenly feels burning.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry.”

When the morning comes Harry is still sleeping deep beside you, an arm thrown over your waist, puffing warm air against the side of your head with every breath he exhales. Seeing him so peaceful warms your heart, but then you realize everything that happened last night, how he only used you because you were available and not because he wanted you.

You don’t want to wait for him to wake up and face him, your emotions would surely bring the best out of you. So carefully, you unwrap yourself from his hold and sneak out of his room, back into yours.

There’s no way you can face Harry right now, so before he could wake up you leave, planning on spending the day in the library, working on your assignments, hoping the school work will take your mind off of how badly you’ve been friendzoned.

Sometime after eleven Harry actually texts you asking where you went and you just tell him you have a shitload of school stuff to deal with. He asks if he can join you, but you tell him you’re with a group of your classmates, even though you’re sitting in an almost entirely empty library. He luckily doesn’t push it and leaves you to be. Hopefully he’ll be fine when you take another step away from him for a while to get your head straight and sort your emotions out.

You get home quite late, but not late enough, apparently. Because walking into the house you find the boys clearly getting ready to watch a movie.

“Just in time!” Niall beams. “Join us, Princess!” he laughs, grabbing himself a cola from the fridge.

“Oh, no, I have some things to work on--”

“Come on, you’ve been in the library all day, you can have a break!” Louis tells you and you know you won’t be left alone, they are just so persistent.

So you join them in your usual spot, which is of course next to Harry, though you’re trying to avoid his gaze that hasn’t left you since you arrived and by now you’re certain he knows you’re avoiding him. There’s a reason why he asked you last night if you’ve been doing it lately, he is not stupid, but this is not the time to deal with it.

With your inner crisis bubbling inside you, you completely forget to ask what you’re watching. A few minutes into the movie it becomes quite clear however.

“Is this a fucking horror movie again?” you ask, snapping at Niall, who just starts laughing.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Harry will gladly let you sleep in his bed tonight,” he teases, making your whole face heat up at his comment. Harry slaps his chest before he turns to you with concern filled eyes, but you pretend like you see nothing, turning back to the screen with your jaw clenched.

You’re fucked.

The movie is a fucking shitshow and leaves you traumatized. When it’s over, you think about why didn’t you just stand up and go into your room when you realized it’s another horror. For a change, this one was filled with demons and monsters that hide in the shadows, just what you need before going to bed. In the night. In a totally dark room.

Exiting the bathroom you’re already planning on watching something lighthearted and cheerful in your room, hoping that would make you forget the movie you just saw and give you the chance to actually sleep.

Walking past Harry’s room you see that it’s still open and you catch him expectantly looking at you when you appear in the doorway as you walk down the hallway, your eyes meeting for just a split second before you disappear from his sight and shut your bedroom door without a word behind you.

No matter how many random videos you watch on YouTube, some scenes from the movie are just imprinted into your mind and they have you trembling in fear. Every shadow looks like a demon or ghost, hiding in your room, ready to haunt and kill you and you’re on the verge of actually crying. It might not be only because of the movie, more like everything else that’s been bottled up inside you, added to the fear the movie has brought to you.

Shutting your eyes closed you try to take deep breaths and for a bit it actually seems to help, but that is until you hear the door opening. It gives you an instant heart attack and you can’t keep your tears back anymore.

A whimper leaves your mouth as the door opens and you can only see a shadow entering the room, totally not recognizing Harry in the dark.

“Y/N, hey, it’s just me! It’s okay!” he quickly clears, seeing how shaken up you are. He rushes over to the bed, one hand cupping your cheek, the other one finding your hand and before you could think, you grip it hard.

“You scared the living hell out of me!” you cry out, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check on you.”

Silence sets between the two of you that’s only momentarily broken by your shaky breaths as you try to calm yourself down.

“Why didn’t you come to mine after the movie if you were so scared?” he then asks, surprising you with how straightforward he is.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, blinking the remaining of the tears away as Harry stares down at you intently.

“Why would you think you’d bother me? I like having you there.”

“But it’s… Doesn’t matter,” you sigh in defeat, but it just concerns him even more.

“No, tell me!”

“Harry, just go back to your room. I’ll be fine.”

“You definitely won’t and I’m not leaving until you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he protests firmly and you lose your patience to keep lying to him.

“You just wanted someone to sleep with yesterday, okay? You didn’t need me. And… I don’t want to depend on you more than I should.”

Harry stares back at you with a blank expression and you feel like this is going to be the end of your friendship. You have to come clean about your feelings and he’ll tell you that he doesn’t feel the same way. But then he speaks up and the tables turn faster than ever.

“Y/N, I wanted you to sleep with me last night. Not just anyone. You.”

“What?”

“I really thought we have been on the same page, but apparently, we’re not even in the same book,” he sighs, confusing you even more. “Wasn’t it suspicious how things have been between us lately? The way we slept, the mornings, did you think these are normal things to do?”

“I-I thought that… it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Well it did,” he replies and you breath hitches in your throat. “I was trying to take it slow, see how you’d react to everything and I thought you were feeling the same way. But then last time you didn’t come to my room when there was a storm and I thought that was your way of telling me that you want to pause whatever’s been going on.”

You’re just blinking in shock, listening to his words. This is nothing you expected.

“But then you seemed like you opened back up last night and you agreed to sleep with me, thought we were back on track, but then you were nowhere to be found in the morning, avoided me all day and now you would have rather spent the night crying here alone than to come over to me. What did I do? Just tell me, because quite frankly, I have no idea what we are doing anymore, Y/N,” he sighs, clearly tired of this insane game you’ve been playing without even knowing.

“So… you did all of this, because… you…”

“Because I like you, Y/N. But there’s a possibility it’s already way more than just a strong liking,” he admits with a soft chuckle that melts you in an instant.

“Oh god, I could cry again, but not out of fear this time,” you tell him, making him laugh as you scoot closer to him on the mattress. “I feel the same way, Harry,” you softly tell him, your hands finding the base of his neck while his hands have wandered to your waist so now he is pulling you towards him until he ends up in his lap. His face is now so close, and even in the dark, you can see the cheesy smile on his pink lips.

“You’re not saying this just to keep me here because you’re scared to be alone, right?” he asks, clearly joking, earning a wholehearted laugh from you.

“No, but I guess that would be a major benefit of it.”

“I’ll protect you from all the demons and killers under one condition,” he smirks, his face already inching closer, his nose is already touching yours.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“I get to kiss you.”

“Deal.”

You barely say this one little word, his lips are already on yours, kissing you in a way that almost knocks all the air out of your lungs. You press yourself up against him, his arms curling around you, holding you tight as if he is already protecting you from everything that scares you, though you can’t really think about the stupid horror movies now that you’re kissing Harry.

He pulls you down with himself making you lie on your back as he holds himself up above you, his lips parting from your just enough so he can look into your eyes.

“How about I kiss you every time you feel scared?” he prompts, pecking your lips gently as you pull your legs up and his hips settle between your thighs, while your hands dance down his back.

“Alright, I’m in,” you smirk at him and for a moment he just stares back at you, smiling wide, in complete awe that it’s finally happening. Then he cocks his head to the side before speaking up.

“Are you still scared?”

“Very,” you nod. “I’m shaking.”

“Good,” he grins before his lips press onto yours again.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[amillionmillionvoices]

“You shouldn’t be here.” “I had to make sure you were okay.” 👀👀👀👀

Thank you so much for the prompt, darlin! I hope you like angst. 😬 (TW: car accident, injury)

--

It’s taking too long. 

Even though he’d left the moment he ended the call; even though he’d driven straight to the airfield, placed a call to his mom on the way without bothering to go home, to pack, to take anything other than what he’d had with him—his backpack, wallet, phone, keys; even though he’d chartered a damn jet, for the first time in his life, and they’re more than halfway over the Atlantic; it’s still too slow. 

The engine hum is a dull whine in his ears but it’s mostly quiet. It’s just him on a too-big plane and he can’t eat and can’t drink and everything in his head is so loud. 

Henry’s eyes, staring at him from behind a catcher’s helmet. 

Rebecca’s heavy breath, her last words to him before he left. 

Roy’s voice in his ear, flat and low. 

A phone, ringing off the hook. 

Ted scrubs a hand over his face and looks out the window at the clouds and sunlight and it hurts. Everything hurts, and he feels like he hasn’t caught his breath, like he won’t until he can see her. Until he knows—

He looks down at his phone. Roy texted an hour ago to say there was no news, and Ted grips his phone tightly to keep from hounding him. He knows he’ll tell him, but the waiting makes his stomach knot and there’s an acid taste in his mouth that won’t leave, like he could be sick at any moment. 

The plane hums and he hears the echo Roy’s words, heavy against the bright St. Louis sun, 

It’s Rebecca.

Ted had frozen, felt the weight of those words before Roy had taken a breath, explained: 

“There was an accident. Fucking drunk prick blew a red light.”

“Hold on,” Ted had managed, stood up, made his way down from the thin bleachers, away from Henry’s game, away from moms in visors and siblings bored or cheering and the shriek of the whistle and the coaches’ hollering and the sunlight, so much sunlight— 

Ted closes his eyes and tries to forget: 

The way her expression had frozen, her whole body still, like she’d been doused in cold water. 

The way it had all bubbled to the surface after she’d dug her heels in, demanding: 

“Just tell me! Tell me what happened, tell me what I did—”

“You slept with Sam, Rebecca! Sam, our Sam! He’s one of the youngest goddamn boys on this team and you—”

Ted blinks rapidly, tries to clear the tears in his eyes. Tries not to think about Henry’s tears, his small, trembling anger when he’d told him he had to leave. 

Asked the coach to pause and pulled Henry off to the side and told him he had to leave and didn’t know when he’d be back and Henry had just stared at him with wide eyes and his voice had cracked—

“But it’s my birthday. You promised.”

He’s up and out of his seat, makes for the bathroom and braces his hands over the sink, tries to get his breathing under control. He feels like he’s going to throw up, almost wishes he would, if it would quell the nausea churning in his gut. 

He takes several deep breaths, fingers white-knuckled around the sink and makes the mistake of looking up, into the mirror, his own reflection. His eyes are harried and sunken and his clothes rumpled and he thinks a commercial flight would have been better, more distractions, more people but instead he’s alone and it’s taking too long and what if he’s too late, what if it’s over by the time he lands, what if she’s—

He turns, and just manages to throw up into the toilet, drops to his knees in the crowded space and empties his stomach, tastes bile and acid and feels like he’s choking but it’s no less than he deserves, for the way her voice has trembled: 

“I know what I did, Ted! You think I don’t regret it?”

“Not enough,” he’d snapped, and she’d taken a full step away from him, away from the words he couldn’t stop, words he’d been trying, desperately, to push out of his mind for months: “Did you even think about what it would do to the team? To Sam? His career?”

“I didn’t force him, Ted. I didn’t ask him to do anything—”

“He’s 21 years old, Rebecca! You’re his boss, you’re supposed to protect him and watch out for him and not—”

“What?” she’d said coldly. “Not fuck him?”

Ted had winced, but returned her glare, couldn’t see, or didn’t want to see, the tears in her eyes. 

“If that’s all that you think it was—”

“What else could it have been?”

Love, he’d thought, but couldn’t bear to hear her say. 

He’d expected her to fight back, to defend herself, her actions. Wanted her to, almost. Wanted to know what she was thinking. Why she did it—the real reason, the truth. 

But she’d dropped her head, her hands tangled in front of her, and she’d looked away for a moment, then back at him. 

“I know it was stupid,” she’d said. “I know it was a mistake, I just—I didn’t want to be alone.”

He should have stopped then. Should have softened, should have listened to what she was saying, what she couldn’t say. Should have read the exhaustion in her voice, the fear. Should have been the person she expects him to be, the person he wants to be for her. 

Instead, he’d squared his jaw, felt the anger and resentment and guilt—what if he’d been there for her? What if he hadn’t let go?—coursing through him. 

“You put this whole team in jeopardy. Everything we’re doin’, everything I’m tryin’ to do here—does that matter at all?”

“Of course it matters.”

He’d sighed, dragged a hand through his hair and looked at her and he should have seen it, the way she was about to break. 

“Then maybe you outta reevaluate what you’re doin’ here, Rebecca, cause I gotta tell you, I can’t take anymore truth bombs.”

Rebecca had flinched, her whole face contorting, and he’d wanted to take it back. Wanted to shakes his head and say that’s not what I meant but part of it was true and part of it wasn’t and he doesn’t know anymore, can’t think, can’t breathe for the memory of the way she’d met his gaze, the way her whole face shuttered, the tears that had slipped silently down her cheeks. 

“Noted,” she’d said, and it felt like a punch. “Thank you for letting me know where we stand.” 

“Rebecca—”

“You’ve said your piece, Coach Lasso,” she’d snapped, moving back behind her desk. “If there’s nothing else, I have work to do. And you have a plane to catch.”

She wouldn’t look at him, but her hands gave her away, trembling violently and he’d wanted to go to her and wanted to make it right but there was a plane and Henry and Kansas waiting and Rebecca, waiting, and he could see it, then, everything they’d worked for, everything they were to each other in splinters at their feet and her voice, so defeated. Like she was giving up. 

He’d felt his anger flair again—that he was always the one trying, always the one not giving up, always the one holding on to something—

“Fine,” he’d snapped, throwing his backpack over his arm. Still, he lingered, waited for her to say something else—waited for an apology he didn’t deserve, or an olive branch he should have extended himself. 

Instead, she’d sat behind her desk, glasses on her nose, staring at her computer and he’d felt so heavy, so adrift. 

And he’d left. 

Left without another word, without looking back and he thinks that was the worst of it, the last image of her in his mind her lifted chin, her shining eyes, her hands, shaking—

He coughs, flushes the toilet and rinses his mouth with water. Looks at his own face again, all the promises he made, to himself, to Henry, to her, colliding in his head, Henry’s trembling lip, his own rambling apologies, the itch under his skin to go, go now at odds with how badly he wanted to stay, to soothe his son, to make his words a lie when Henry had looked up at him and sniffled. 

“Fine,” he’d said. “Leave. You always do.”

He’s always leaving someone, leaving when he shouldn’t, staying when he should go, and there wasn’t time to protest. Wasn’t time to make Henry see, wasn’t time to help him understand. He’d pulled him into a hug that Henry shook off and promised that he’d be back but Henry had just glared and the whistle blew and then his son was running away from him. 

He dimly remembers Michelle, her hand on his shoulder. 

“I’ll talk to him,” she’d promised. “Go.”

So he went. 

And now he’s waiting, and waiting, and he slips back into his seat, looks down at his phone again, though he has the sound and vibration on and nothing’s come through.

He wonders if Roy knows. 

If she told Keeley. 

 He doesn’t stop himself this time from texting:

Any news?

Three dots appear and disappear and  reappear and then,

No. 

Still waiting. 

—

Higgins picks him up from the airfield. Gives him a strong, one-armed hug and doesn’t say much. 

Roy had texted a few hours ago, saying she was out of surgery. That she was resting, and the doctors would keep them posted.

He asks anyway, for news, for anything, but Higgins shakes his head. 

“They’re monitoring her closely,” he said, “and the doctors are hopeful she’ll make a full recovery. They’re mostly just worried about the head injury.”

Ted nods, and tries not to cry. Remembers Roy’s voice, how flat, how emotionless: broken bones, internal bleeding, her head, slammed against the window and the car that hit on her side, ran straight into her—

He takes a few deep breaths, and Higgins takes his hand off the steering wheel to squeeze his arm. 

“She’s a tough woman,” he says, though his voice is shaking. “She’ll be alright.”

They don’t know that, and the words are hollow but Ted appreciates him anyway, appreciates that he doesn’t say much else, lets Ted stare out the window and drink the coffee Higgins brought him and he doesn’t say a word other than “Eighth floor,” when he pulls up, lets Ted jump out while he finds a place to park and then he’s running, suddenly there and needing to be there faster and he takes the stairs, too impatient, up eight flights and bursts through the door and there’s Roy, pacing in the hallway, and Keeley in a chair and Deborah holding her hand and Sassy and Nora curled into one another and he’s going to lose it, going to pass out, going to start panicking and he can feel it bubbling in his chest—

And then Roy’s arms are around him, half holding him up, his grip strong and tight and he doesn’t say anything except “About fucking time,” like he’s relieved, like it’ll all be better somehow now that he’s here. 

Roy holds on until Ted feels steady enough to step back, to nod, and then he hugs Keeley and Deborah and Sassy and Nora buries her face in his chest and cries. Ted holds her close, tells her it’s going to be okay but she’s old enough that she knows he can’t promise that. Still, she squeezes him around the waist before she pulls back and returns to Sassy. 

Ted looks back at Roy, his bloodshot eyes. “Any news?”

“Doc’s with her now. Running some more fucking tests or some fucking shit.”

Ted nods, and turns toward the door that Roy points at. It’s closed, curtains drawn, and his chest aches. 

“Coach Lasso?”

He turns, and Charlie’s there—Rebecca’s driver, holding a tray of hot drinks, vending machine snacks loaded on top. Ted breathes a sigh of relief. Roy told him Charlie was fine, but seeing him helps, gives him hope. 

There’s a bandaged cut across his forehead and he’s balancing the tray on one hand, the other in a sling, but he’s fine, and then Keeley is taking the tray and Charlie is babbling, 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, Coach, I didn’t see him, it happened so fast and I didn’t know—”

“It’s okay, Charlie,” he says. “It’s not your fault.”

Charlie looks down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he says, and Ted hugs him gently and behind him the elevator dings and the door to the stairs opens and one by one, the team spill out into the small waiting area. 

He hears a nurse say something about telling them to wait in the cafeteria, but Isaac is leading the group and they’re all there, every one of them, filling out the hall. 

“What—” he starts.

Isaac claps his arm, but doesn’t seem able to speak so Colin steps up, says, “Keels said you were comin’ back, Coach. We got booted downstairs but we wanted to check on the boss.”

Ted swallows tightly. “You’ve all been here? This whole time?”

Isaac nods. “Course we have.”

Tears sting his eyes and he thinks of his words, re-evaluate what you’re doing here. She’s done so much, for all of them, and the guilt is like a tidal wave and he feels winded, like screaming and crying and throwing things and he knows he’s going to break. Maybe not now, maybe not here, but soon. 

“Mr Kent?”

He whips around, knows that voice, a nurse’s voice. Soft and kind, but strong. Unflappable. 

She’s standing in front of Roy, but smiles at the team and gives them a nod before she looks back to the group, and Ted holds his breath. 

“Ms. Welton’s awake.”

A sigh ripples through and Roy says “thank fuck” and slides into the seat next to Keeley, who puts her arm around his shoulder as he buries his head in his hands. 

“She’s a bit groggy, but her vitals look good and she’s coherent. Obviously, we’ll keep monitoring her and she’ll need further scans, but from our initial assessment her head injury isn’t too severe.”

Ted’s mouth feels dry. “She’ll be okay?”

The nurse turns to him. “She’s not totally out of the woods—we’ll know more once we have those scans—but so far so good.” She smiles, and looks back at the group. “Would one of you like to go see her?”she asks, and then holds up a finger. “One of you,” she says, with a tone that brooks no argument. 

Ted swallows the ashy taste in his mouth, and he looks at Deborah, at Keeley, at Sassy, waits for one of them to stand. 

But they’re all looking at him. 

The team, Keeley, her mother, Nora—all of them, staring at him and he doesn’t deserve it and doesn’t dare ask for it, and then Roy’s voice breaks the silence, 

“What the fuck are you waiting for?”

So he goes. 

Follows the nurse down the hall and is dimly aware of her saying that it looks worse than it is, that he should be prepared anyway, rattling off the tests they’re doing and how they’re going to monitor her and he should be paying attention but it’s all white noise in his head and then she pushes the door open and lets him through, and he freezes. 

She looks so small.

Her skin is pale and there are cuts on her face, shallow but stark and one of her wrists is in a cast. There’s a bandage on her head and he can see where part of her hair has been shaved away and she’s going to hate that so much, he thinks, and almost laughs. With relief and fear and it comes out more like a hitched sob, and the nurse touches his arm. 

“It’s okay,” she says. “Why don’t you sit down.”

She gestures to the chair next to the bed, putters around doing something while he sinks into it, stares at the cuts on her arm, her chapped lips, her eyes closed but she’s breathing, and for a moment he just watches her chest rise and fall and tries to even his breathing to hers. Like it could connect them in some way.

But he needs to touch her, needs to know, and lifts a hand, then hesitates. 

“Can I—” he starts, his  hand hovering above hers. 

“Just be gentle,” the nurse says, and he nods, and slowly, carefully, lifts the wrist that isn’t cast and holds her hand into his. 

Her skin is cool, the way it always is, but she seems so delicate, so fragile, and Ted slams his eyes shut but it doesn’t stop the tears, streaking then his face. Doesn’t stop the soundless sob that wrenches through him and he bows his head, bites his lip so hard it might bleed but he doesn’t care. 

His vision is swimming and he hears the nurse say, “I’ll give you a minute,” and then she’s gone and it’s quiet except for the machines and Ted sniffs, forces himself to look at her, eyes drinking her in. 

He rubs his thumb over her hand, soft as he knows how, and reaches out tentatively, brushes her cheek with his other hand. 

“Rebecca.”

She stirs, tilts into his touch and his eyes burn and his stomach heaves, and then she’s blinking, slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim room. He doesn’t dare move, can’t pull away, even when her eyes find his and for one, brilliant moment, she smiles. 

So weak, so thin, but she smiles and her eyes slip shut and she leans further into his touch, her fingers curling just a little against his palm. 

“Ted.”

And then she inhales, and her eyes open again and her smile vanishes and she remembers, he can see it, and swallows. 

Her voice is scratchy, barely above a whisper: 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Guilt slams into his chest and he can’t stop the tears, lifts his hand from her face to swipe them away. 

She doesn’t want him here and he doesn’t blame her and he thinks he should go, should leave now and let someone else come in, someone who’s better to her, better for her—

“Henry’s birthday,” she says, as if clarifying, and Ted takes a deep breath. 

“I know. He’s okay.”

Rebecca frowns, slowly. “How—“ she starts, and then coughs, and winces, breathless. 

“Shh,” he soothes, his hand back at her forehead, “it’s okay.” He looks around, finds ice chips on the nightstand and feeds her one, and it’s worrying that she doesn’t protest, doesn’t try to hide. “Roy called me. I took a charter,” he says. “Fancy things, those, I see why you like ‘em.”

Rebecca swallows, and looks pained, but opens her eyes again, and the single word cracks his chest in two, 

“Why?”

He sniffs, tries to hold back his tears as he runs a hand gently through her hair. 

“Had to make sure you were okay. Can’t go losin’ the boss, now can we?”

He tries to smile, but Rebecca looks away, looks defeated and so, painfully sad that the words spill out, stumbling over one other in his haste to make her see, to make her realize, 

“I’m so sorry, Rebecca. I swear I didn’t mean—I shouldn’t have said what I did and I’m sorry, I never meant—”

She looks at him, and there’s bruising around her eye that makes his breathing stall. 

“You were right.”

He shakes his head. “No,” he whispers. “No, I wasn’t. I was angry, more at myself than anyone else and I took it out on you, and I’m sorry.”

“I was selfish.”

Ted lets the tears flow, doesn’t bother wiping them away. “No, sweetheart—”

Rebecca blinks at the endearment, and Ted scoots closer to the bed, lets his thumb trace a thin scar near her temple. 

“No, I was selfish,” he says, his own voice gravelly to his ears. “Got so wrapped up in my own head I didn’t see—” He shouldn’t do this, not now, but the words come out a question, “You needed me.”

Rebecca stares at him for so long, he thinks she’s going to fall back asleep. He wouldn’t blame her, but he wants to know, needs to know—

She nods. Just a bare tip of her chin, but she swallows, too, says, 

“You were hurting.”

“So were you.” He shudders, licks his lips and tastes salt. “Maybe—maybe we can share a little of that hurt with each other, goin’ forward.” 

Rebecca takes a breath, heavy. “You came back for me.”

It’s a question, a statement, a hope all in one and Ted nods. 

“Yeah, ‘course I did. Just ‘cause we fought don’t mean I don’t care about you. Doesn’t mean I’m givin’ up. We’re too important.” He swallows tightly. “You’re too important.”

Rebecca’s eyes close, and for a long moment they stay what way, and if it weren’t for the machines and the soft rise and fall of her chest, it would seem like— 

She blinks up at him. “Forgive me?”

Ted almost laughs at how ridiculous, how heartbreaking, and he does his best to smile through his tears. 

“Yeah, of course I do.” 

She nods just slightly, fingers moving against his palm. 

“Do you—” he starts, can’t quite voice the question, not nearly as brave as she is. 

God, she’s so brave. 

But she seems to know, and slowly lifts her hand from his, reaches out, fingers trembling against his cheek. 

“If you care about someone,” she says, barely a whisper, her eyes fluttering shut. “A little love…” 

With a shaky breath, Ted covers her hand with his against his cheek.

[troubatrain]

i’d lie - m. tkachuk

a/n: this was the very first like super long fic i’d written for my own blog and tbh i still love it so i hope you guys do too :)

September 2019

The first time you met Matthew Tkachuk, you were running back to your apartment, mountain of textbooks in your hand. You’d run into a firm chest while trying to text your roommates back about dinner plans, your books knocking all over the floor. You apologized profusely, feeling awful for running into someone because you couldn’t get your head out of your phone. The stranger, who later introduced himself as Matthew, assured you it was fine and helped you pick up your books. You introduced yourself to him, thanking him for the help and making a light joke about how you weren’t paying attention. The two of you went your separate ways, but your mind wandered about the blue eyed stranger you’d run into that day.

The second time was definitely just a coincidence, and you were sure of that. You were grabbing a quick coffee before class, something you were in dire need of after your roommates came home well past midnight from a night out while you decided to stay in and study. You were waiting for your drink when you heard your name called from behind you. You turn around and meet Matthew’s eyes, laughing about how’d you run into each other just a couple of days later. The two of you made small talk, you explaining that you were just headed to class and him explaining he was grabbing an after practice coffee. When you asked him what sport he played, he looked at you in shock and laughed, explaining that he played for the Flames, you reluctantly admitted that you didn’t follow hockey much anymore, being just too busy. Your conversation ended quickly when you realized you had to run to class, telling Matthew you’d see him around even though you were sure you probably never would.

The third time was starting to feel like the universe was telling you something. You’d gone out with your roommates, celebrating a successful end to the fall semester. You were going to grab another drink when you felt someone grab your arm, when you turned around, ready to tell this guy to lay off, you’re met with a familiar pair of blue eyes. Matthew cracked a joke about how you’d seen him more times in the past week or so than his family and offered to buy you a drink. You took it, standing at the bar and talking to him for the rest of the night. You talked about school, your major, and your roommates. He told you about playing for the Flames, and how much he loved being in Calgary. When his teammates walked over to the two of you, chirping Matthew about talking to you, and when you roasted his teammate right back, Matthew told you that he was positive he was going to have a new best friend.

Matthew wasn’t kidding, finally getting your number at the bar that night and never leaving you since. It was slow, he started by inviting you out with his teammates after games, the boys becoming a permanent part of your life. Then you went to your first Flames game, in which Matthew scored twice and made you promise to never miss a home game after. After that, you were complaining about how loud your roommates could be when you really needed to get some work done, so Matthew gave you a key to his place so you could go there even if he was away. Matthew would send take out to your apartment if you’d had a particularly bad day or you would go over to his and cook for the both of you. He’d been there to help you study for finals, even though he didn’t have a clue about what you were talking about. You’d been there when the Flames got knocked out of the first round of the playoffs, holding Matthew while he ranted and raved about the game and how badly he wished they’d won. You went out to dinner with his parents when they came to town, you’d even made a trip to St. Louis over the summer. From an outsider’s perspective, and from the perspective of every person in your life, it seemed like you two were dating, but you felt like that ship had sailed and if it was going to happen it would’ve already.

You shake the memories of your friendship with Matthew out of your head as you turn the key to his apartment, sneaking in with the obnoxious decorations you’d bought. Yesterday, Matthew called you to let you know his contract was almost done and that he’d be back to Calgary for training camp the next day. You were excited, the contract debacle taking up more stress in your life than you’d liked. You’d sent the stuff down on his kitchen island, tying the red balloons you’d bought to one of the chairs and setting out the cake you’d bought that just says, “Congrats on getting PAID.” You hear the door creak open, and Matthew set his bag down by the door.

“Oh this is something,” Matthew chuckles, laughing at the small celebration you’d put together.

“Thought I’d welcome you back,” You laugh as he runs over to pull you into a hug.

“I really don’t deserve you,” He says, “Is that cake?”

“It is,” You smile, walking into the kitchen and pulling the groceries you’d bought to cook the both of you some dinner, “and dinner.”

“I really really don’t deserve you,” Matthew repeats, always appreciative of things you did to take care of him. Not that you minded it at all, the access to the quiet of Matthew’s apartment was enough to justify a few dinners, let alone when the two of you went out and Matthew insisted on paying the bill. While you never felt like you owed him anything, it definitely made you feel less guilty when you were doing something for him - even if it is just stopping him from eating out every night.

“You don’t, I know,” You joke, hip bumping him out of your way so you could grab a cutting board from his cabinet.

Matthew was over to the seats on the island, sitting in the one you’d decorated, “You’re going to be at our first home game right?”

“Of course, I planned my entire day around it,” You admit, knowing you’d made a silly promise to Matthew that you’d never miss a home game, “Why? Worried you’re going to bomb without me there?”

“I mean, yeah. I just-” Matthew starts, sighing, “After waiting for this deal and stuff I don’t want anyone to think it was a mistake.”

You didn’t realize your joke had actually struck a nerve. When you first became friends you didn’t think Matthew doubted his play or himself ever. He had a blind confidence, and he never let a mistake take over his whole game. It was something you actually admired, wondering if you could ever be that confident in yourself. But, when the Flames lost in the first round of the playoffs, and you’d gone to his place after the game, Matthew turned into a sad shell of a man in front of your eyes. That night you realized how much actually got to him, and while he listed off the mistakes he made in the series you’re heart broke with every word he said. The Canadian media wasn’t always easy, and it really bothered Matthew more than you think he even knew.

You turn around from the stove, “There’s not one person who doesn’t think you deserve your contract, and if they don’t I’ll personally tell them to fuck off.”

Matthew laughs, and your heart skips a beat, “I think I can do without you trying to fight anyone.” “Why? I’m absolutely terrifying,” You joke, your small frame wasn’t scary at all, but you weren’t about to let that stop you.

“You know what? You’re right,” Matthew says sarcastically.

“In all seriousness,” You start walking around the island to wrap your arms around Matthew’s shoulders, “I’ll always be proud of you.” Matthew tucks his head into your arms muttering a low thank you. The two of you spent the night together, catching up on your summers over the dinner you made. He told you about the trips he’d gone on, and his summer antics. You’d gone on about the vacation’s you’d gone on, and the time you spent with your family.

October 2019

You walked arm and arm with Brittney, Sean’s girlfriend, into the Saddledome for the Flames home opener. It was Saturday night, and you knew with the Kings coming to town on Tuesday the boys would definitely be celebrating their first win of the season if they came out on top tonight. You were excited, hoping they’d be able turn it around before it became a losing streak. You head up to your usual seats, walking into the family boxes with Brittany, all of the team’s significant others and families out for the first home game of the season. After finally grabbing a drink and sitting down you look down at the nice, spotting Matthew’s mop of hair buzzing around the ice.

“So anything change over the summer?” Brittany asks when she sees you looking at Matthew on the ice, a curious look on her face.

“Still best friends,” You say, shaking your head at her comment. You’d heard it a million times, about how Matthew needed to have you at his games, sitting with the rest of the team’s families or how you were always at his place or vice-versa but you assured everyone who asked that you were just friends - because you were.

“Okay but you can be best friends and date, you guys know that right?” Brittany says, trying to make you see it from her point of view.

“Britt, I really mean it, we’re just friends,” You shrug, not really in the mood to continue defending yourself. You ignore the knowing look she gives you, already knowing that her usual comeback would be asking you why you’re getting so defensive.

By the time the third period rolled around, the Flames were up 3-0 and you were sure this was going to end as a win. When the period was finally over, you headed down to the locker with Brittany to wait for Matthew to head out. 

He barreled out of the locker room, scanning the room to find you, running over and hugging you tightly, “We wonnn.”

You knew he was running on an adrenaline rush that he only ever got out of winning, “You did, are we going out tonight?”

“We are Y/N, Chucky can stay home,” You hear Sam Bennett’s voice behind you.

“Sam, what makes you assume I want to spend time with you?” You quip back before Matthew even has a chance to defend himself.

“You guys are really meant to be, you’re both cold as hell,” Sam says, shaking his head at the two of you.

You ignore Sam’s comment, turning to Matthew, “Ready to go?”

Matthew nods, leading the way to his car in the parking garage at the arena. You both slide in, you immediately grab his phone to change the music.

“You know it’s my car,” He says, already knowing you controlled the music in every car ride you took, despite who was driving.

“You know I don’t care,” You say back immediately, “Do you want to drop off your car?”

“No, you drink, I’ll just have a beer,” Matthew says, never wanting to let himself get too drunk if you were going to, afraid something might happen to you.

“But you guys won-” You start to protest only to be immediately cut off.

“But you had class all week, and don’t think I didn’t hear you stress crying after I went to bed the other night,” Matthew says, immediately shutting you up. You had a long week, and the idea of getting to go out with the safety net of Matthew taking care of you didn’t sound terrible.

“Fine, you win,” You say as you pull up to the bar you were meeting the rest of the team at. You walked in, immediately spotting Brittany and Sean from afar, walking over them wrapping Brittany in a hug.

“I’m really happy you guys are all back in town,” You say, still a little tipsy from the drinking you’d done at the game.

“Happy to see all of us, or just Chucky,” Sean says, giving you a look.

“Enough with that,” You snap, already having heard it from his girlfriend.

“Enough with what?” Matthew says, stepping behind you placing a drink in your hand.

“Nothing, Sean’s being a moron,” You say, leaning into his chest when he places a protective arm across your chest.

The rest of the night was an eventful one to say the least. You’d danced with the girls, Sam made you take more shots than a person should, and it was safe to say you were drunk to say the least. You finally walk back over to the table that Matthew was sitting at, talking to Noah.

“Matty, can you grab me another drink?” You ask, trying to convince him so you didn’t have to. You knew it wouldn’t take much and he nods and takes your empty glass without a second thought. 

Once Matthew was out of earshot, Noah turns to you, “You’ve really got him wrapped your finger.”

“Noah -” You start to defend yourself again.

“Don’t Noah me,” Noah immediately cuts you off, “Admit it, you have to see what everyone else sees.”

“You know what? I do and yes, it confuses the shit out of me but Noah, I like Matthew, a lot, but I don’t think he feels the same way about me,” Your drunken confession slips, your hand immediately covering your mouth that you actually admitted it.

Noah looks at you, eyes wide in surprise, “Oh my god, I was right?”

You start to give him a lecture about prying into your business before he cuts you off, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

You smile, “Thanks Noah.”

Matthew comes back and hands you a water despite you asking him for another drink, you roll your eyes, knowing he’s just decided to cut you off before you got messy.

“Ready to go?” You ask, sipping the water.

“Whenever you are, are you going home or staying by me?” Matthew asks and you notice Noah shaking his head at the two of you.

“Home, I need to spend my Sunday studying,” You say, leaning back into Matthew from the barstool you were sitting on.

Matthew nods, grabbing your hand and walking you back out to his car, opening the door for you to slide in. The drive back to your place was short, and you wished it was longer, admiring how the streetlights made Matthew look incredibly handsome. You knew the small crush that you’d been haboring since you met him only made it’s special guest appearance after you’d been drinking, and you were going to let it take over even just for the night. When Matthew stops in front of your building, he tosses his car into park so he can walk you to your door, even though you always insist nothing awful will probably happen to you between then and the minute elevator ride up to your floor. 

When you step in front of your door you wrap your arms around Matthew’s waist, tucking your head into his chest, “Thank you for always taking care of me.”

You feel him place a small kiss on your head, something he did often, “Anytime, get some sleep okay?”

You nod, “Text me when you’re home Matthew,” You say, using his full name to make yourself sound more serious. He laughs and heads back to the elevator while you walk into your apartment, walking into your bedroom and slipping one of Matthew’s old London Knights shirts on, passing out immediately.

November 2019

With November came an enormous amount of stress, the Flames weren’t playing up to their usual standards, losing five games on the road. Matthew was grouchy to say the least, you were always trying to cheer him up but there was only so much you could do while he was gone. You weren’t in the best mood either, the stress from school starting to build up. You’d spent more nights crying from stress in the comfort of Matthew’s empty apartment more than you’d admit to anyone, never quite feeling like you could catch up with all of your work. Which is why you were sitting on Matthew’s couch, head in your hands while you tried to finish the paper you had due at midnight when you hear him finally come home from his road trip, dropping his bag at the door with a bang, causing you to jump.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were here,” Matthew says, in a harsher tone he usually used. You could tell the losing streak was starting to get to him, his shoulders were tight, and the bags under his eyes were prominent.

“Do you not want me to be?” You say, while Matthew never complained when you were at his place, you did understand if he wanted to be alone.

“No you’re fine,” He says, “Are you going to come to my game tomorrow?” Your heart sunk, you wanted to, but you couldn’t justify spending a night at the Saddledome watching him play when you had so much work to finish before the chaos of finals started. You look at his sad eyes, afraid you might upset him if you said no.

“Matty, I have so much work I have to do, I don’t think I can,” You say, closing your eyes as if that would lessen the blow, you open one, seeing Matthew’s face crushed in front of you.

“It’s fine,” He says, the words not sounding like anything was okay at all, “We’ll just lose - again.”

“Don’t put that on me,” You defend, not wanting to feel guiltier than you are, “You miss shit in my life all the time because you’re gone.”

You regretted the words as soon as you said it. It didn’t matter if Matthew was there or not, anything important in your life, he made sure you knew he was proud of you. If it wasn’t a flood of texts, it was a bouquet of flowers to your door. He made sure you never felt like he forgot about you while he was gone, and you knew you were just acting out.

You hear Matthew sigh, a sign he was trying to keep his temper in check, “Maybe you should just go.” “I will,” You say, gathering your things and heading towards the door, turning back to him one more time, “For the record, you’ll be fine whether or not I’m there or not.”

--

You didn’t sleep that night - at all. Your mind replayed that stupid little argument you had gotten into with Matthew. You’d never actually fought with him, sure you bickered, but as soon as you’d call him out on his shit, he would let it go and that would be it. He looked so hurt by your words, and you knew you owed him an apology. You tried calling, texting, you even sent him an email, but he was ignoring you and you knew it. 

You lay on your bed, typing a paper for one of your classes while watching the Flames game, the Flames down against the Avs 3-2. You watched as Matthew got sent to the box, for the third time that evening, finally breaking his stick when he sat down. You knew he was frustrated, and you couldn’t help but feel like you might have had something to do with it. You turn the game off with five minutes left, not wanting to see Matthew’s face after they lost their sixth game in a row. You finally finish your paper, setting your laptop down and getting ready for bed. You slip into bed, ready to finally try and get some sleep when you hear Matthew’s voice from your living room, your roommate telling him that you were in bed. 

He opens your bedroom door, poking his head through, “Can I come in?”

You nod, watching as he steps into your room, still in his gameday suit. He lays down, immediately putting his head into your lap, while your hands move to play with his curls.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, not wanting to break the silence in your room.

“You don’t need to be,” He says, “You were right - you always are.”

“Not always,” You smile, watching as his eyes close under your touch, “Do you want to stay here? We can watch a movie - whatever you want.” Matthew smiles and you knew you’d said the right thing, knowing that after a bad game it’s better to distract him until he finally opens up, “Can I have sweats?”

“Open my top drawer,” You say, “It’s mostly your clothes anyways.”

Matthew laughs, opening the dresser and realizing how many pairs of sweatpants and hoodies you’d actually stolen from him. It wasn’t your fault he has the comfiest hoodies known to man, and that he always offered them to you when it got cold. He steps into your bathroom to change, coming back out and climbing into your bed, pulling you closer to him so you could snuggle into his chest, grabbing your remote and throwing on a movie on Netlifx.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but somewhere halfway through the movie you finally knocked out for the first time in two days, wrapped up in Matthew’s arms. The two of you blocking out the noise from the outside world.

December 2019

With December comes the craziness of finals, but you weren’t about to let it stop you from celebrating Matthew’s birthday in the most ridiculous way you could think of. You’d set up a full on surprise party, using Noah as your partner in crime. The Flames were lucky enough to have a Sunday off, allowing you to have Noah keep Matthew out of his apartment all day so you could decorate. You went all out with decorations and invited everyone you knew was important to him - even having some of his friends from St. Louis fly up for the occasion. 

“I can’t believe you’re doing all of this for someone you’re not even dating,” You hear Brittany say, handing you the other half of the Happy Birthday banner you’d bought. 

“He literally flew me out to St. Louis over the summer for my birthday,” You say, “I think the least I could do is throw a party.”

Brittany shakes her head at you, distracted by Sean carrying in drinks before she could make a comment about how you spent your birthday with Matthew and his family. You greeted all of the guests as they arrived, waiting for Noah’s text that him and Matthew were on their way. Once you got the text, you had everyone hide out, shutting off all of the lights. You hear them come up the hallway, opening the door to Matthew’s place. You all jump out and yell surprise, promptly scaring the birthday boy. He smiles at you, knowing you were the only person who wanted to make a big deal out his birthday in the first place.

“Thank you,” He says, stepping over to you after he greets everyone at the party.

“How did you know it was me?” You joke, “It could’ve been Sam.”

“Because when I told you I didn’t want to do anything for my birthday, you proceeded to tell me that’s fine,” Matthew says, “and I know you were lying.”

You laugh, he was always able to tell whether or not you were lying from your body language alone. It made it easier to just tell him how you were feeling, even if you didn’t want to.

The party was dwindling down by the time you saw Matthew again, his body swaying indicating that he was definitely drunk. You laugh, getting the last groups of guests to head out so you could clean up and get Matthew to bed.

Once you shut the door, pushing Sam and Noah out while they made jokes about you and Matthew walking down the hallway, you turn around to see Matthew grabbing himself a water.

“Alright birthday boy, let’s get you to bed,” you say, trying to move his much larger frame into his bedroom. You’d only ever had to do it once before, a night out after the Flames clinched their playoff spot last season that ended in Matthew puking outside of the bar, and you were sore from trying to haul him to bed.

“Will you stay?” He says when you finally get him to sit on his bed.

“I mean, I planned on it,” you say, gesturing to your bag that was in it’s usual spot in his guest room.

“No in here,” He argues back, crossing his arms like a child. You knew you shouldn’t give in, and you knew climbing into bed with him was only going to make that small crush worse, the crush already growing from the last time you’d slept in the same bed as him. 

You sigh, walking over to his dresser to grab him some clothes, tossing them over to him, “I’m just going to go change.”

You walk across the hall to his guest room, slipping out of the jeans you’d been wearing and throwing on a pair of shorts and one of Matthew’s t-shirts. You tossed your hair in a bun, opening the door to Matthew’s room, seeing him in bed waiting for you. You smile, sliding into bed and cuddling yourself into Matthew’s chest as soon as you laid down.

“Thank you for the party,” Matthew whispers, hands twirling the ends of your hair.

“I told you, it wasn’t me,” You joke, finally letting sleep take over you.

January 2020

When Matthew got voted into the All Star Game, you made sure to tell him an obnoxious amount of time. You also insisted on blaring “All Star” by Smash Mouth in his apartment for an entire week before he told you he was going to take his spare key back if you didn’t stop. What you didn’t expect, was for him to insist you at least came for the actual weekend of the game. But once you found out that Brady was also playing in the game, you decided you should probably make the trip down.

You arrived Friday morning, Matthew making some time in the craziness of the weekend to pick you up from the airport, having you stay with him at his parent’s house. You arrive in the mass chaos of the Tkachuk household, his mom scrambling to get everything ready for the party they planned on having after the game on Saturday. You set your bag down, immediately running into the kitchen to see Brady and Taryn.

“Matt, you can leave now,” Brady says, wrapping you in a tight hug, “We’d much rather have Y/N here.” You laugh, missing the dynamic of seeing Matthew around his family. He was always more relaxed when he was with his family, even though he’d never admit that he actually did miss them during the season.

“Brady she’s my best friend,” Matthew says, grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest.

“To be fair, I like Taryn more than both of you,” You mutter between the bickering boys.

You spend your Friday running around with Matthew’s mom, helping her with the party as much as you could. You enjoyed your time with her, knowing that it made Matthew happy to see how much his parents like having you around. Friday and Saturday seem like a blur, the craziness of the All Star Game taking over. You spent most of the time with Taryn and the rest of Matthew’s family that came to town, many of whom you’d met the last time the Sens came into town. You finally arrive back at the Tkachuk’s Matthew riding the high from winning the actual game.

Once the party was in full swing you were dragged around the house by Matthew, introducing you to players he’s played with in the past. You had a long conversation with Mitch Marner, who you found out Matthew actually played with when he played for the London Knights. You spent the night of some of the best athletes in the world and you couldn’t help but wonder why Matthew kept you around when he kept company like his friends who played around the league.

You step in Matthew’s bedroom, trying to take a moment for yourself. You look in the mirror, and sigh, just not sure of why you were there in the first place. It didn’t happen much anymore, but every once in a while the thoughts of not being good enough found themselves creeping in your mind. You couldn’t help it, as your hands started to shake, you heard the door open and Matthew step into his room.

“You alright?” He asks, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Why are you friends with me?” You ask harshly.

“What’s this about Y/N?” He asks, confused at your tone.

“I mean, you just, all of the people in your life are these accomplished athletes and are insanely good at what they do, and for some reason you choose to spend all of your time with someone who cries every time they get too stressed out,” You rant out, worried about how Matthew would react to what you were saying. You’d never let him in on this part of you, the part that’s doubtful and scared that one mistake could ruin everything you’ve ever worked for.

You feel Matthew grab your hand, pulling you down to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, wiping away the stray tear that had fallen, “I don’t want to spend my time with anyone besides you, please don’t ever think differently. You’re funny and smart and you care about every person in your life even if they don’t deserve it. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want you to feel like this ever.” You smile, trying to hide the butterflies you feel in your stomach when Matthew’s thumb grazes your cheeks to try and calm you down.

“Do you want to stay in here and hangout for the rest of the night, just the two of us?” Matthew whispers, not wanting to break the comfortable silence between you two.

You nod, climbing into his bed and waiting for him to join you, putting on a movie and pulling you into his arms. You knew there was a giant party going on outside of those four walls of Matthew’s childhood bedroom, but nothing could be better than laying in his arms just the two of you.

February 2020

After the All Star Game, you threw yourself into your schoolwork knowing Matthew was headed on a two week road trip. You’d spent the two weeks catching up on an enormous amount of work, so you wouldn’t have to worry about it once Matthew finally got back to Calgary. You were grabbing a coffee before your class, when your phone rang in your pocket - Matthew’s caller ID appearing on the screen.

“Helllllo,” You answer, excited to hear his voice - even if it was just over the phone.

“Hey, do you have plans for Valentine’s Day?” He asks.

“I do not,” you say, knowing for a fact Matthew knew you didn’t.

“We have this Flames gala thing and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?” He asks, and you can hear Johnny and Sam chirping him in the background.

“Matthew, that’s in like two days!” You say, scolding him for not asking you sooner so you could find a dress.

“I know, I just kind of forgot about asking you, I told the team I was taking you though,” He defends, knowing he said he was bringing a date before he even bothered to ask you.

“Yes I will go, but please remember to give me some WARNING next time,” You sigh into the phone, “Now if you’ll let me go, I need to go find a dress.”

“I keep an extra card in my nightstand, use it,” Matthew says, “And before you say no, consider it a gift for not killing me for telling you last minute.”

Initially you laugh, knowing Matthew kept an extra debit card in his apartment because he lost his more frequently than a normal person should, but once his words settled in you began the usual protest you gave him when it came to money, “Matthew…” you start, ready to explain to him that you don’t need him spending ridiculous amounts of money on you.

“Y/N, just take it,” He says, “I’m really too tired for this one.”

You sigh, “Fine, but this is the last time.” “Whatever you say, I’ll tell Brittany to make sure you use it,” He says, and you knew he wasn’t kidding, “Bye.”

You mutter a goodbye back, texting Brittany that you were in dire need of an emergency shopping experience before the Gala on Friday. She laughed when you called, already having received a text from Matthew to make sure that she made you use his card.

The night of the gala you head to Matthew’s, carrying your dress and all of the things you knew you would need to get ready, tossing them in his guest room when you arrive. You head into the bathroom, promptly starting with your makeup when you heard him get in from the rink, yelling about how he was going to shower and heading into his room. You finally set your hair into loose curls and start to step into your dress. The off the shoulder black dress stopped right above your knees and fit you like a glove. Brittany didn’t even tell you how much is cost, grabbing it and paying for it on Matthew’s card before you could even look. But, the way it made you feel outweighed the guilt you felt. You slip on the nude heels you chose to wear, and call Matthew in to help clasp your necklace.

“Wow,” He says, stepping behind you, fastening the necklace to your neck, “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks Matty,” You say, turning out to take in the suit he was wearing. When you told him you decided to get something black, he was excited having had a dark maroon suit in his closet he wanted to wear, “You look alright I guess.” “I look alright?” He asks, lightly tickling at your sides, “You’re such a brat.”

You laugh, “You look super handsome, happy?”

He nods, grabbing your hand and leading you out to his car. The Gala was in full swing when you arrived, the room filled with his teammates, fans, and other important people in the city.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” You hear Noah’s voice behind you while Matthew was over having a conversation with one of the team’s trainers who was at the event.

“What Noah?” You ask, ready for the comment about Matthew taking you as his date.

“You look like that and Chucky still won’t lock you down? He’s really dumber than I thought,” Noah says, gesturing to you.

“Don’t you have a date you should be complimenting?” You say back, knowing Noah had brought some girl to the event, even though they were never around long.

“Not one that looks as good as you,” Noah says, “So, still got that little crush.”

“Yes and I’m done talking about it,” You say, watching Noah’s hands go up in defeat as Matthew steps behind you.

“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asks, ignoring the face Noah was giving him for being so gentle with you.

You nod, grabbing his hand and following him out to the dancefloor. You place your arms around his neck while his move to your hips, swaying to the music. You look behind you, seeing Noah smirking at the two of you while dancing with his own date. You throw up your middle finger, not letting Matthew notice. The two of you spend the night with each other, dancing and having Matthew introduce you to a lot of people who were working in the front office with the team that you’d never met before. You couldn’t help but feel like something was changing between the two of you, especially when he kept his hand on your lower back while walking through the gala, or his hand gently stroking your thigh while you guys sat at your table.

March 2020

You never talked about how you spent your Valentine’s Day romantically slow dancing with your best friend at a Gala his team was throwing after that night. You couldn’t tell if thing’s had actually changed between the two of you, or if it was a result of the romantic atmosphere. Thing’s with Matthew had returned back to the normal routine, with the Flames in the middle of their playoff push, Matthew was around less, spending more and more time at the rink. You understood, taking the time to spend some time with your friends that weren’t him.

You finally both had a day off, deciding that you’d head over to his place to cook the both of you dinner. You arrive at his place before he does, placing your bags down and getting straight to cooking. You hear him come in, humming at the smells of the food.

“Hey stranger,” He says, joking about the fact that you haven’t been spending as much time together as you usually did.

“Oh please, you talked to me about your practice today on the phone for an hour, you’re hardly starved for attention,” You say, calling him out for being dramatic.

“I need all of your attention or I might actually die,” He says, wrapping you in a hug, “So what’s been up with you?” “Same old same old, this guy from my class asked me out on a date, I haven’t told him yes or no,” You shrug, moving back to cooking dinner.

“No,” He says, instantly, and you turn off the oven, turning around to face him.

“No?” You ask.

“I mean- uh- fuck,” He stutters, “You can’t go on a date with that guy I’m sure you’re too good for him.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms, “Matthew I know you live in a world where you don’t want me to get hurt, but I can’t not date because you don’t want me to.”

“I know, I just-” He starts before you cut him off.

“You what Matthew? Give me one damn good reason why I shouldn’t go out with this guy,” You snap back.

“Because I want you to date me,” He says quietly, “I wanted this to be better, you deserve it to be perfect, but I love you so much, and I can’t keep denying it any longer. I love when you spend all of your time here because I love spending time with you. I love that you get along with my teammates, and my family. I love when you get dressed up to go out, because I get to walk around with the most beautiful girl in the world under my arm. I was just terrified you didn’t feel the same way and that you’d hate me. Then when we were dancing at the Gala it felt different, like you were as into me as I’m into you.”

You uncross your arms, walking around the island to stand in front of him, placing your arms around his neck, “That might have been the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” “Really? Cause I think I could do better-” Matthew starts, but you cut him off by pressing your lips to his. His hands move to cup your face, kissing you back slowly, the two of you melt into each other like you’d been made for each other all along.

“I love you too,” You mutter against his lips, feeling him smile.

“You’re not gonna go on that date right?” He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours.

You laugh, “No, there’s only person I want taking me out on a date,” you joke, placing another kiss to his lips.

“Sounds like a lucky guy,” Matthew jokes back, kissing you again, solidifying how truly right it feels to finally be together.

[perseabethj]

i don't really have an explanation (i.)

When Percy started his senior year in yet another school, he promised himself he would try his best to make sure nothing strange happened; sure, it wasn’t really up to him monster-wise, but he could at least try not to say anything strange to his new classmates or curse in ancient Greek. Besides, the last two years had been a mess and, with his kidnapping, it was not like he had much to say when he was told to introduce himself the first day of class -‘’hey, my name is Percy Jackson, my dad is a Greek god, and I was kidnapped last year and my memories were erased; oh, and I like blue food!’’. Yeah, that probably wouldn’t work.

Thus, Percy was known as the quiet and reserved kid in his school. This was a first for him; sure, he’d never had many friends, but he was always causing trouble. This time, however, he knew that Annabeth would kill him if, for any reason, he messed this school year up and he couldn’t go to New Rome University. He made friends -a first, excluding Grover and Tyson, who didn’t really count if you kept in mind that, well, they were his protector and his brother, and a satyr and a cyclops. He didn’t tell his friends much about him -his step-dad was an English teacher, he had been expelled from way too many schools, he had ADHD and dyslexia, he was very athletic, and he was going to try and join the swim team. He made sure to exclude everything that could be linked to his other life -he didn’t talk about his summer camp, his other friends, his huge dog, his father, or his girlfriend; Percy liked how both things didn’t go together, and he felt like it made everything easier. Whenever he talked, he sounded like a normal seventeen-year-old, and he was glad about that. He had had enough of monsters for a lifetime and, even if a hydra or a hellhound bothered him every other day, he could truly say that he could see a future for him and Annabeth that didn’t include them dying in the next five months. All in all, things were good.

When his school organized a homecoming football game, however, he did invite Annabeth; she was in a boarding school in the city, but it wasn’t that hard for her to sneak out with her New York Yankees cap, and he did want her there; it was a milestone for them. After all, Percy wasn’t supposed to reach senior year. They had agreed on meeting at the school; Percy had told Annabeth he’d meet her at the entrance once she texted him that she was close, since he was already at the bleachers with his friends. He wasn’t used to having a phone yet, however, which, in his opinion, gave him an excuse as to why he wasn’t checking his texts. Moreover, his ADHD tended to slow time down for him, so he was pretty sure that he still had thirty minutes before Annabeth was supposed to arrive.

‘’I swear, man, she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,’’ his friend Matthew said, leaning over Kayla so he could see him.

‘’You say that about every girl you meet.’’

‘’I don’t say that about you,’’ Matthew told Kayla, who elbowed him in the ribs and, promptly, shut him up.

Percy couldn’t help but laugh at Louis’s mocking expressions behind Matthew. He’d only known these people for less than a month, but they had accepted him into their little club as soon as they’d met him and he was infinitely grateful. As Louis opened his mouth to, probably, laugh at Matthew over his ability to fall in love at first sight everyday, Matthew and Kayla stopped laughing when they looked at Percy. Percy tensed up, his hand moving to his pocket to make sure that Riptide was with him in case he needed to kill a monster, but, when a pair of arms linked themselves around his shoulders from behind, he tensed up for a whole different reason.

‘’I didn’t think I’d see you here, Jackson,’’ a female voice said playfully close to his ear.

Percy disentangled himself from her arms and turned around to stare Mary in the eye.

‘’An athlete at a football game. Who would have though, right?’’ he ironically said.

Mary rolled her eyes and rested her hand on his shoulder. Percy had to resist the urge to slap it away, but he didn’t want to cause a scene -he knew a lot about causing scenes and, with his luck, slapping her hand away would lead to a monster trying to kill him, and he didn’t want to be expelled before he could even take his first test. He didn’t know what he’d done to gain her attention -she was popular and decidedly pretty, and he was an outcast. He knew he wasn’t bad-looking -if Piper described him as a Greek god once more, he might die; Annabeth telling him that he looked exactly like his father also didn’t help, since the two times Poseidon had shown up in the past year while he was with Annabeth had always led to Percy wondering whether his girlfriend found his father attractive-, and he spent so much time swimming that one would have to be blind not to notice that he had a nice body. However, the whole school knew about his experience with being kicked out of school, since some teachers had made sure to remind him to behave during the first week of classes, and the swim team wasn’t regarded as highly as the football or the hockey team. All in all, he wasn’t a mess -unlike thirteen-year-old Percy-, but he was guarded and serious enough not to attract the attention of preppy girls. Mary, however, seemed to be obsessed with him from the day he got her phone out of the swimming pool after she dropped it while flirting with another guy in his team -‘’keep it wet, keep it wet’’, he’d had to remind himself-, and he regretted being a nice guy ever since then. Honestly, if his mom hadn’t raised him to be such a good kid, most of the problems in his life wouldn’t have happened.

‘’You could sit with us if you wanted,’’ Mary told him, signaling to her girl friends.

Percy knew the invitation only extended to him and not to his friends, who were quiet during the conversation. They had been at that school for three years, so they knew Mary and her gang, and Percy knew they sometimes wondered why he didn’t drop them for the popular kids. He also knew that he would rather face the Minotaur again than sit with the popular kids.

‘’I’m quite happy where I am, thanks,’’ he politely answered, trying to end the chat before he said anything rude.

‘’But you would have more fun with us, I’m sure,’’ Mary insisted, running her finger down his arm.

In moments like this, he almost missed being the young kid he was when he first arrived to camp, skinny and short and with a voice way too high for anyone to consider him a man.

‘’No, thanks,’’ he said again, using his other arm to take his phone out of his pocket, hoping Annabeth wouldn’t take much longer. ‘’Besides, I’m waiting-‘’

‘’Perseus Jackson!’’

‘’Man, I am going to need a massage after this’’, he though as he tensed again. He noticed his friends drive their attention away from Mary, who had also looked towards the origin of the voice with furrowed brows, her finger still on Percy’s arm. Before turning around, Percy quickly looked at the time on his phone, silently cursing in Greek as he saw the multiple texts and missed calls that he clearly hadn’t heard.

‘’Why is there a beautiful blonde goddess walking towards Percy, yelling his full name and looking like she wants to kill him?’’ Matthew quietly asked, forcing Percy to stifle a laugh.

He turned around slowly, half-expecting her to have a dagger at his neck. She was still far enough for him to be able to think of a few excuses, but he knew that wouldn’t work. Man, he had been offended the first time she’d called him Seaweed Brain, but she’d really hit the nail on the head.

‘’I can explain,’’ he said while she was still a few metres away.

‘’Explain, then,’’ she told him, now standing in full height before him. He was quite taller than her, but a standing Annabeth with folded arms and a stormy look in her eyes before a sitting Percy who knew he’d messed up was definitely scary.

‘’I…’’ he started. ‘’I didn’t think I’d get this far, honestly. I think this might be the first time you let me explain and I’m not ready for this responsibility.’’

He knew that was the right answer -her eyes were now shining with mirth and he could tell he was holding back a smile. She still had her arms crossed, but he figured she wasn’t going to kill him in front of so many people, so he tugged at them and forced her to sit next to him before he could regret it.

‘’I really thought it was earlier. You know how I am with the time, and I’m still not used to the phone.’’

She finally unfolded her arms and shook her head as she smiled softly, and Percy knew she wasn’t mad any longer.

‘’The fact that I have experience navigating labyrinths doesn’t mean that I want to navigate your high school, Seaweed Brain,’’ she told him.

‘’Completely understandable, Wise Girl.’’

He threw his arm around her shoulder, all his previous conversations forgotten, and he was about to ask her about her day when another voice interrupted him.

‘’Excuse me, Percy, but who is this?’’ Mary asked from behind him.

Annabeth turned around, a fake smile on her lips as she took in the brunette girl sitting behind her.

‘’His girlfriend,’’ Annabeth said. ‘’Nice to meet you.’’

She offered Mary her hand, though still wrapped around Percy’s arm, and Mary took it automatically, a shocked expression on her face. Her friends looked back between her and Annabeth, equally confused.

‘’His girlfriend?’’ Matthew whisper-yelled.

Both Louis and Kayla nudged him with their elbows, earning a laugh from Percy, which made Annabeth look at them with a raised eyebrow.

‘’Guys, this is Annabeth, my girlfriend,’’ Percy introduced. ‘’Beth, these are Kayla, Matthew and Louis.’’

‘’You’ve mentioned them,’’ Annabeth said, extending her hand and offering a real smile. ‘’It’s nice to meet you. Anybody who manages to put up with Percy deserves to be admired.’’

‘’Hey!’’ Percy whined.

His friends sat there, flabbergasted, but he didn’t really mind. Sure, he could have told them in advance, but he also didn’t think it was that important that he had a girlfriend; he was not the first guy in school to have one, and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t have time to talk any more before the game started, but he did manage to hear Matthew whispering to Kayla and Louis as the players made it to the field.

‘’So not only is Percy the hottest guy at school, but he’s also dating the hottest girl in New York? How is that fair?’’

Percy smiled softly and pressed Annabeth closer to him, enjoying her warmth and having her next to him. This was how things were supposed to be.

[moonyswriting]

Pride

Happy Pride Month everyone! Whether you queer or questioning, closeted or out, I am so proud of you, you are valid and perfect! Remember that you never have to come out if you don’t want to. You’re not lying to anyone if you don’t. You don’t owe them to come out. Only do it if you want to. Also remember that labels can stay forever or can change and both is perfectly normal. You're fantastic the way you are. <3

So, I managed to write a pride fic for the first day of pride month! yay me. I hope you like it :)

Thank you for the idea @moonofthenight

Characters by @lumosinlove

When Pascal came into their living room it had never looked more colourful, but it had also not looked this messy in a long time. There was tape on all four sides of the table, paper and little paper cut outs all over the floor and in the middle of everything, all his four children, looking like deer in the headlights.

“What happened?”, he asked slowly. There would be a reasonable explanation for all of this, he was sure. Celeste had probably helped and they would clean everything back up in no time, leaving no trace of a mess before the team came over for dinner tonight.

Adele shuffled over looking at the floor. “Um,” she stared before glazing back at her siblings, who nodded at her encouragingly. “So, we decided to make some things for the others. You know, since you’re having that Pride Party tonight? We thought we’d make little gifts for the team.”

Oh, Pascal’s heart was already a puddle. “You-”, he stared, but couldn’t continue. He had questioned a lot if he should have raised his children differently, more open to the rainbow or attractions and genders (or lack thereof) that was out there, but this made him feel like he and Celeste had at least done some things right.

Pascal only realised he hadn’t properly said anything yet when Katie rushed towards him, hugging his hip. “Please don’t be mad. I promise, we’ll clean it all up. Mama said she’d help us!”, the big eyes of his youngest daughter stared up at him, guilty, but hopeful.

“I’m not mad, mon chou.”, picking her up, he turned towards the other three, still standing in front of him. “Not at any of you. This is an incredible idea! The team will love them. Thank you so much, it’s really thoughtful.” Leaning down, he placed a kiss on each of his childrens’ foreheads, including Katie’s before setting her down to get back to the others. Celeste walked through the door the next moment, flowers of all colours in her hand.

“You found our little pride squad then?”she asked, walking past him and into the kitchen, probably to cut off the ends of the stems. “Don’t worry, I’ll help them clean up and we’ll be done before any of your teammates even leave their houses.”

His wife knew him too well. He hated when other people visited them and their house was messy. Of course there had been times where he couldn’t really keep it clean with four toddlers running around, but he still always tried and his family knew that and helped him. It wasn’t really that it bothered him that visitors could see that they were possibly not clean people, it was just the principle. He thought it should that they were prepared and anticipated someone’s visit. He never wanted them to think it was a bad time to visit because he would eventually excuse the mess. He always wanted everyone to feel welcome.

And that’s what tonight would be about. Making his team feel always welcomed and loved and accepted.

Celeste returned back to their dining room without the flowers, kissing Pacal’s cheek and then turning towards their children. “Did you show him what you made already?” they shook their heads but quickly climbed up onto chairs and sorted through the things they had made. “They’re all really cute, I already saw some of them.” Celeste whispered giddily into his ear, as excitement bloomed in his chest and they walked over to look at the crafts.

“Here!” Katie waved a piece of paper in the air and Pascal walked around the table to look at what she had made. SHe beamed up at him as she explained, “This is for Tremzy! And Harzy and Knutty! It’s a card and I drew Lo, Leo and Finn on the front, see!” The man took the card in his hands. There were three stick figures on it, the smallest with brown hair, the next one with bright red hair and the last, taller than the other with yellow hair. In the back there were blue, red and black dots. “Why did you use those colours, ma petite?” He did have an idea, but with the many coloured pens on the table it could have just been a coincidence.

He could see Katie look over to Adele and Marc, before her eyes met his again. “Del and Marc said that those are the colours when you have more than one love and Logan has Finn and Leo, so they said I should use those. They look good together right?” Pascal could see that he wasn’t the only one close to tears after glazing over at Celeste smiling brightly. “Yes, Katie, it looks beautiful. Lo, Leo and Finn will love it! Adele, Marc, thank you for helping your sister. I know that this will mean a lot to Logan.” then as if he couldn’t help but to add, “I’m also very proud of you for looking up pride flag colours. I’m really happy you're informing yourself about these topics. They’re important.”

They all smiled at him. Pascal went over to Louis next. “I made two! This one is a card for Olli and Del and Marc also helped me with colours, so it's black, grey, white and this really nice purple that Katie gave me. It didn’t really match the photo, but I liked it better than the really dark one. Do you think he’ll mind?” The fact that his youngest son actually looked concerned staring down at his work had a tear spilling over. He let out a wet chuckle. “Non, je pense qu’il va l'adorer, c’est parfait. For who is the green one?” Louis pulled it out from under his other one and now Pascal could see it was not just green. There were black, grey, white and purple stripes on it too. “It’s for Reg! See, it’s got these stripes and then I drew this heart above it, cause even though he doesn’t want a boyfriend like Siri, he still gets all the love he needs from me and Siri and you and Re and the rest of the team!” Celeste came over and placed a kiss on his cheek, “He loves you too, mon lapinou. They look amazing.”

He walked over to his older son, he didn’t know if he could be any prouder of them. “ I made one for Kasey, Nat and Alex.” Marc stated as he handed his father one of the cards he had made. There were three heads on it, one with long blond hair and hoop earrings, one with light brown hair to the shoulders and one with dark red hair, freckles filling up more of his face than the light pink his son had used for all their skin tones. Pascal was about to compliment it, when Marc gave him another one. “This one is for Nado and Kuny. I made it full of hearts in pan and bi colours, because you mentioned that once and I really hope it’s right.” before Pascal could even think his next thought a stack of cards was placed in his hands. “And then for some of then we didn’t know, but we didn’t want them to feel left out or asume, so I made some rainbow ones for Pots, Talker, Sergei, Timmers, Cookie, Bluey, Ringer, Volley, Wrangler, Sunny and Foxy.”

Pascal was a bit shaken, not only that his son even remembered everyone of his teammates, without missing a single one, but at him having crafted every single one of them a rainbow card. “They will all love them, I’m sure. They look incredible.”

He saw Adele look down at her cards and moving them slightly out of view. Frowning, he walked over to her, “Did you also make something, ma colombe?” She nodded, pulling out one of her cards and holding it up for him to see. It was beautiful. She had glued blue magazine cut outs on the top of the cards, which got lighter til they reached a white in the middle and to green ones at the bottom. Over it there was a heart which read “Some hockey players marry their PT, get over it” He didn’t know how she had thought of that, but it was true and funny and so Adele, Pascal had no choice but to love it.

“These are all perfect. Thank you so, so much for making them, they’ll all love them I’m sure. We can tell them to all sit down in the living room so you can give them their cards later, sounds good?” They all nodded, seemingly happy with the idea. “Now let’s clean up before they come here and don’t recognize the place, eh?” All of them nodded as they got up, Celeste telling them where to start and how to clean it.

Pascal moved to the kitchen with the tray of now empty glasses Celeste had no doubt gotten them earlier, when he heard something behind him. Once he had carefully placed down everything he turned around to see Adele standing in the kitchen, arms behind her back. He waited for her to speak for only a moment until she did. “So, you saw that we made cards for everyone, because they’re all great and we should let them know we love and support them, right?” Pascal nodded, letting her continue, “But there’s one more card I made,” Pascal had counted before, his children hadn’t forgotten a single one of his teammates, he had no clue what that last card could be for. “because it’s important that they know they’re loved right?” she continued, “that’s a really important part of all of this. So,” she slowly pulled out a card from behind her back, “this one is for exactly that. Just because someone’s not queer or questioning, doesn’t mean they’re not important this month. It’s not the main focus of it, of course, but having allies is a big part of being able to be proud of who they are for some people. I wanted to thank you for that. I could have gotten some homophobic dad like some of my classmates, but I’m really, really glad I got you.”

She handed him the card she had made, similar to the collage of magazines but in black and white stripes with a rainbow A covering it. He couldn’t help the wetness that gathered in his eyes again. And here he had thought the emotional stuff wouldn’t be until the team arrived. He walked forward and hugged his oldest daughter. “Thank you so, so much,” he whispered, since he didn’t trust himself with anything else to come out anywhere close to evenly, “Thank you, ma petite. I am so proud to have you as my daughter. You’re the best children I could have ever asked for.”

[bemybstar]

Saw you write nsfw including daddy/sir & humilliation kinks so if you're still up for requests...May I request smut where Louis and a carnivore!reader have that kind of relationship (with him being the dominant one ofc)? I've always thought it fit with his herbivore complex and that carnivore fetish of his 👀 can be hcs or a one shot, whatever you prefer! I ADORE your work...Thank you so much for sharing it 😭❤

A/N: Yes I am still taking requests since they are still open! Thanks so much for commenting on my writing I really appreciate it!

Pairing: Louis x fem!carnivore!reader (reader can pick the animal they want)

Warnings: Jealous Louis, dom/sub relationship, mentions of daddy kink, reader gets punished, it’s honestly just filth at this point lol.

“Louis? Do you mind helping me with this next part?” You ask politely and await his response. He was busy finalizing scripts for the drama clubs last play rehearsal, since he’s the leader it’s part of his job. “Sorry but I’m busy right now. We can practice in private later.” He says bluntly not even bothering to look you straight in the eye.

You were a member of the dance team and wanted to go over some last minute critiques for the festivals performance. You’d figured your boyfriend would be up to the task of helping you with some new dance moves but you were clearly mistaken. “But I need your advice now or else I’ll forget the entire choreography later,” you whine.

“I already told you I’m busy. Now go be a good girl and ask someone else to help you until I’m done.” He snarls finally locking eyes with you instead of his paper. “Fine!” You huff as you storm out of his office, “I will...”

You scope around the room for a potential partner, all the girls were already in groups or busy stretching after wrapping up. You sigh in defeat, there goes your chances at getting someone’s input. That was until Bill spotted you and headed your way. 

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” The bengal tiger asked you sounding a bit too excited. “I overheard you talking to Louis. That guy can be such an asshole, am I right?” Technically you’d be willing to defend your boyfriend and put Bill in his place, but no one knew you two were dating. So you had to play it cool and act approachable in case others got suspicious. 

“Haha, yeah I guess so,” you comment wondering how much did he actually hear of the conversation, but you push it aside as an idea pops into your head.

“Bill! Do you mind giving me your opinion on my dance number? You know, since Louis is too busy for me and all,” you pleaded with a smile. “Sure! I’d love to help you out. Where should we start?”

“Hmmm,” you think and look around until you found the perfect spot. “How about there?!” You exclaim as he follows your pointed gaze to the corner of the room. He agrees, taking your word for it as you grab him by the hand and walk over together. You place the stereo on top of the shelf and press play before taking a deep breathe.

“And one, two, three. One, two, three,” Bill’s voice echos through you as you take each step with such ease and grace, moving in sync to the rhythm. “Would you mind practicing with me for a little bit?” You ask him before stopping in place as he agrees to your offer.

His hand touches your arm as he stands behind you, raising your wrist a bit higher for dramatic effect. Your figures project on the mirror in front of you, proving just how close you two really are. His muzzle is just above your head as he instructs you on what to do next. You tilt your head to the side and lock eyes with Louis, who has been watching your every move as you intended. The whole purpose of practicing in the corner was because he had left his door wide open, he pretty much had a front row seat to this little game of yours. And he didn’t seem to like it one bit judging from his envious expression.

Bill had taken something that belonged to him and he’d be damned to let it continue any further. You let go of Bill’s hand and thank him for his partnership once the bell rang. “Bye Bill,” you wave off. “Thanks for all your help again.”

“Anytime, Y/N. Anytime,” he says waving back with a sly grin plastered on his face. You hum quietly to yourself and make your way over to Louis’s office, awaiting for what’s in store. He’s sitting across from you, pupils flaring as his eyebrows drew together in vexation. But before you ask him about his well being, he had the upper hand in stirring the conversation.

“What was all that about?” He asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Don’t play smart with me. You knew exactly what you were doing,” he scolds. “I don’t know what’s worse. Your desperate need for my attention or your attempt at toying with Bill’s feelings in order to get what you want...”

You gasp upsettingly and walk straight towards him. “They can’t be all that bad if they managed to get the job done. Just face the facts... you were jealous.”

“Excuse me?” He snaps before getting up from his seat. “You told me I had to find someone else to help me and I did just that. Maybe if you would have listened to me from the beginning, I wouldn’t have resorted to Bill in the first place!”

“And maybe if you acted like a good girl from the start, I wouldn’t have to punish you for it now!” He grimaced through gritted teeth.

“You know what happens when you disobey me, right?” He comes into contact with you, filling the space between you and him. He wraps his hand behind your hip and pulls you in close, bracing your palms against his chest from the forceful impact. Your lips are just inches away from his as he stares longingly at them, eager to give you what you crave once you answer his question.

“Y-Yes Louis,” you whisper lowly. His hand quickly races down your hip and goes straight to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. A warning. A mistake on your end, it wasn’t the answer he had grown to expect from you. “Yes. What?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper correcting yourself. “Mmm, that’s more like it,” he drags and mashes his lips against yours. This kiss isn’t sweet, but fueled with fire and pent-up anger. He’s fast enough to show you that he really wants you but at the same time stands his ground, proving to you that’s he’s in control. He leaves your lips and moves to your neck.

“This doesn’t... this doesn’t change the fact that I’m still mad at you for ignoring me,” you breathe raggedly, screwing your eyes shut at his mouth works wonders on your neck. He had a knack for knowing your weak spots. He then removes your shirt as you place your hands up and toss it to the side. Your bra comes off next as he unhooks it from the back and let’s it drop to the floor. You pull down your red shorts next as to get it over quicker for both of you.

“Stay still...” he orders to the sofa chair in front of you, propping your hands down on the arm rest to gain balance. He strips off his suspenders, loosens his tie, and pulls up his shirt placing it with the rest of the pile on the wooden floor. You spread your legs wide enough so he can get a better look at you, your fully exposed to him in this moment, it’s moments like this he enjoys most. The intimacy was unlike anything either of you had experienced in the past. It’s as if the roles were reversed, you were his prey and he your predator when it came to your sex life. Neither of you felt weak or overpowered because in those moments you were one in the same. Two animals in love, with the same hopes and desires of sharing that love.

“If it’s too much for you let me know,” he’s referring to your punishment as you give him a quick nod indicating you understood. “Good, now count.” He smooths over your fur before giving it a smack, automatically making you count up to your limit. “T-Ten...” you wince from the last one sinking your claws into the fabric as a reflex. By the time Louis was finished, your ass was red and stinging from soreness. “You take your punishment so well for me, baby. But I’m still not done with you yet...”

You hear the sound of a zipper coming undone and the thud of a belt dropping soon after. He takes out his cock and strokes it softly before grinding himself against your fold with his tip. He’s such a tease... you say to yourself. “If you think you really deserve this, then beg.”

“Please!” You shout a little too loudly mainly out of desperation. Your body can barley take it anymore at this point. “I want your cock buried deep inside my pussy. I want you to fuck me senseless until I’m dripping with cum. I—“

Before you can finish Louis slams himself into you, filling you up just the way you needed, the way you’ve been craving. He holds you steady from behind as a way to guide his erotic movements. Rocking into you with his hips little by little, setting up a steady pace before picking it up faster than before. You move up and down his length, getting wetter as each second passes. “F-Fuck Y/N,” he hisses as he continues to savagely thrust into you.

“D-Don’t stop...” you mewl out breathlessly. Your eyes roll back barley able to see straight, as he rams into you harder than before as each time passes. “I-I’m gonna cum, please can I cum?”

Louis grunts before giving you permission to do so. His thrusts become sloppy and messy meaning he’s on the verge of climaxing right along with you. After a couple seconds, you release with a scream of his name as he follows shortly after. His warm cum spurts inside you, filling you up to your core as his liquid pours down your thighs. You gasped as you try to catch your breathe, your eyes fluttering shut as pure exhaustion took over your body. You plop face down on the sofa cushion to regain your strength as you were too exhausted and overwhelmed to move.

Louis puts his clothes back on and excuses himself, giving you a chance to relax. He returns shortly after from the males locker room with a warm towel in hand. You moaned as he ran the smooth material along your body, slipping it between your legs to clean up the cum and sweat dripping out of you. You thank him with a kiss and begin to dress yourself back to your usual state as he waits by the doorframe.

“Now, come on. I believe I owe you a dance lesson...”

———

Tag list - (just ask to be added)

@starr60

[louisisalarrie]

Thanks for answering my ask, the bbg ending one. Your response has given me quite a bit to think about! Yes, I haven’t been here since the beginning, but from what you said about B she used to post a lot of F content? She really doesn’t seem to have gotten anything much out of this whole deal when you think of what she might have achieved. Crazy. And what you said about using it as a scandal for publicity- bless poor L, I think the fact that he fought so hard against it in the first place, and so many people know that (I mean we’re all still talking about it) means that the end could be very messy and not in a good way for him. I suppose I’m saying that the thing that would benefit him most to work towards ending it without ending his career is for people to forget it’s not real, to go along with the narrative, maybe? It’s so tough though, isn’t it, considering all the evidence that’s out there?

I think our society, the way we are encouraged to view and judge others (those with celebrity), seemingly for our entertainment, and to stop us from involving ourselves in important topics, is awful. And the fact that everything is set up to push groups of people to pretend to be other than they are to benefit those with all the power (rich older white men most of the time) is so sad. When there’s such beautiful diversity that should be celebrated rather than squashed. Sorry for rambling, got on my soap box a bit there! But thanks again for making your blog somewhere to dive into difficult topics! 🩵

Never apologise for rambling, anon. Love to hear your thoughts! 🧡

Yeah, B used to post F a fair bit. That whole family was very involved and would post F non stop and talk about louis and really do anything that could get them attention from the fandom. It was super yucky and weird. Even if you did believe F was louis’ kid, having the baby’s face all over the internet all the time was super inappropriate as he’s a minor. And then the photoshopped pics she posted? And posting photos that aren’t even her but saying it’s her baby bump? It was a hot mess.

And absolutely, I agree with you how horrific the entertainment industry is. Fans, and the general public, are told what to think about a certain person. We’re fed narratives to keep us buying magazines, clicking on websites, talking about celebs online, and buying tickets to their shows. Without us, celebs are nothing. They don’t make money and can’t have a career and so PR happens through whatever means possible. PR can be minor, or it can be a huge scandal. It just needs to grab attention and headlines, no matter the narrative. BUT horrible crazy huge narratives like “louis is a shit dad and goes clubbing and fucks a million girls and doesn’t support his son” stay in the media longer than “louis donates £1,00,000 to a children’s hospital”, because no “sources” can comment on that positive headline. But “sources who are close to louis” can keep adding tidbits to a negative headline, and therefore, can keep a developing story going and louis in the headlines. And us, in turn, would give it more publicity by fighting against that narrative.

Sure, we can make up our own minds about it that contradict the narrative (us larries, for example), but that’s because we’ve dug deep and been here for so long and read theories and talk about it. The general public see a catchy headline, and it sticks. They don’t bother looking into it further. Why should celebs be themselves, when they can make more money by being someone else?

Also, Larry coming out, whether it was gonna be during 1d or years from now, is a huge scandal. It’s always in their PR team’s back pocket. The boys want to, so they keep dangling it in front of them, and it’s gonna be a moment that goes down in history. The headlines would be swaaaamped with larry, and larry content from the 1d days, for months. Sources can add so much to it, there’s so many larry fans and fan content to show, so many theories the headlines can hint at, so it’s major and everyone is happy when that finally happens. Everyone is happy and the team have gotten an insane amount of money and larry are happy and most of their fans are cool with it. But there’s still so much homophobia in the industry, and in the world.

Louis has fans that believe he’s straight, because he is portrayed to be, but hey! we’re still here, aren’t we? And we don’t believe that. But if he came out as gay, well, it’s not a thing to hide that you’re straight by pretending to be gay. So the homophobes and antis/whatever fans don’t like larry, won’t stay. Ya know?

[alltheselights]

Hey so I am a solo louie, I follow you despite you being a larrie because I think you are super level headed and quite frankly I love that you separate how you feel about their relationship and their career your damn good writer too. I became a fan last year and I am well aware that for the most part larries don’t believe that child is his. Apart of me thinks that is just crazy but another knows that the entertainment industry is also batshit crazy so anything can happen. What I don’t understand is the point of it , nobody really cares and there is no way he would come out of this without without ruining his life and like I just don’t see how the whole thing makes any sense. None of it makes any logical sense like how do they plan all of this to end and why ?

VERY long response under the read more!

I think the key thing you’re forgetting is that when this started, people DID care. This didn’t start in 2017 or 2020 - Louis’ heavy closeting with Eleanor started all the way back in 2011 (a much different time then now) and babygate started in 2015. Louis was in the biggest band in the world and there were continual widespread rumors about him and his bandmate being together - his bandmate who was set up as the heartthrob frontman from the beginning of the band and I think starting in 2014 (or whenever Jeff first entered the picture) was looking toward an eventual future solo career, which is exactly what Sony wanted.

I think part of it was just to shut down the rumors with Harry, who again, I think Sony has always viewed as their money machine, and also just because just as many boybands before them, One Direction was marketed to girls as objects of their lust - boys the fans could fantasize about dating. I don’t believe any of the boys who may have identified as LGBTQ+ would have been permitted to come out while in the band because of this marketing strategy, but especially not Louis, who many stereotyped as gay from day one of the band and who many shipped specifically with the most popular of the heartthrob members.

I think the other big part of it is just punishment for Louis and always has been. Not only did he threaten their bottom line by not fitting into the cookie cutter One Direction straight boy mold that Sony clearly wanted and expected from all the boys, but he also fought for One Direction to become more than Sony/Syco wanted them to be. They expected the band to make them a lot of money with bubble gum pop songs for a few years and then burn out quickly when they’d overworked them too much and when all the girls turned toward a new shiny boyband or artist on the horizon, but what they didn’t account for was the fact that rather than falling in line, Louis and the others would fight to write more on the albums and Louis specifically would fight for them to mature their sound. And Louis was very successful in that because even though One Direction was not at their peak popularity with some of their later, more mature, and more well-written albums, they developed a fanbase with that music that would’ve stuck around long-term, not just for their personalities and pretty faces but for the actual music, which I suspect would never have happened if they’d just continued on their generic path that Sony set them on.

Most solo Louies recognize the sabotage of his career with his lack of promo, the fact that he is never protected or defended in the media by his team, and how they push his personal life as a focal point for most promo rather than his talent and music. If you can recognize that, it’s probably not that hard to imagine that they could saddle him with a beard and a fake child to double down on his heterosexuality and then continue it out of spite, fully recognizing that they have tied his hands in terms of his public image because it’s been so long of this, media trained him out of showing his true personality and mannerisms for years, and alienated him from large portions of his fanbase - because Larries are NOT the only group of his fans that suspect he is not straight - I know tons of solo Louies do as well.

The question of why it’s continuing today is a great one and I wish I had the answer and could see what’s happening behind the scenes. If Louis had finally gotten rid of Sony and Syco last year and immediately his solo career started improving, suggesting that his team was finally working for him and doing their jobs properly, and still the stunts continued, I think it would make sense to start to wonder whether Louis wanted that for himself. However, that’s not what happened at all. Louis still has the same management and PR, PR that has always been associated with Sony and Syco, by the way, and there have been no improvements to anything related to his career. I understand that there are limitations because he hasn’t toured or put out a new album yet, but I think you just have to see the lack of press, promo, and even basic respect and recognition around his massive record-breaking livestream in December and his upcoming festival to see that things haven’t changed. LTHQ on Twitter continues to be as useless as ever, Louis’ social media is rarely used to promote his career, and there has been no attempt to build hype for the future music that Louis is working on aside from a single set of pap pictures outside of the studio. These are some of the most basic things that a normal team would be working on, particularly considering how massive Louis’ platform is and how excited his fans have been even throughout the pandemic.

Louis watches what his fans say about everything on Twitter, and when he’s able to, he changes things with a snap of his fingers to ensure that his fans are happy. There’s no doubt in my mind that Louis has watched fans continue to complain about his team over the last year, yet nothing ever changes or improves, and he occasionally makes subtle nods to the fact that his support and successes are thanks to the fans only - never his team. It’ll be interesting to see what happens when he releases new music, but at least as of now, I think it’s evident that Louis is still not being positioned for success in his career with the team that he’s with, even after leaving Syco/Sony.

Without knowing what contracts Louis has signed over the years and how long they are binding, it’s impossible for fans to know how free he is officially, so all we can do is go off of what we see. And what I see right now is that nothing has changed with his career, and so while it seems absurd, it doesn’t actually shock me that much that other elements haven’t changed either. I also think it’s going to be very difficult for them to end babygate in particular at this point, which is probably something at the forefront of their minds.

So I can’t answer for why it hasn’t ended or when and how it will, but I can tell you that as long as his career is not prioritized by anyone around him, I find it very hard to believe that he is 100% free to make his own choices. Even if commercial success is not Louis’ number one priority, we’ve seen so many times how much it means to Louis when he does well on the charts. I do sometimes worry that Louis has given up and resigned himself to this fate because of how long he’s been sabotaged - I’ve worried about this particularly in the last year or so - but I still don’t believe this is all his choice. You can’t convince me that this person who was so clever with how to mature the band in One Direction, this person who has so much interest in the back end of the music industry, this person who has fought tooth and nail for a solo career that nobody thought he could pull off, this person who cares so deeply about what his fans think, is content with the team around him not bothering to do the basics of their job - to the constant widespread and loudly expressed frustration of his fanbase. And as a result, I suspect that babygate and Elounor are likely still around for the same reasons the rest hasn’t improved.

[infinitebells]

Could you please write about William and his s/o starting in the worst possible way? they hate each other's guts and spend all the time bickering and arguing about everything and anything (even about freaking math theorems), until Will says something awful that actually hurts her and he might be a bastard but not that much of a bastard so he tries his best to apologize and they slowly grow closer and closer until they realise they are in love

enemies to lovers is my favorite thing ever

✧ you two cannot be in the same room for more than five minutes without being at each others throats

✧ albert and moran have actually had to pull the two of you out of the room and away from each other because you two just rile each other up to the max

✧ louis literally sighs when you guys start arguing about math because what the fuck it’s the same literally everywhere and he has had to leave the room before because he gets so annoyed

✧ the reason you’re even in the group in the first place is because you and moran grew up together, and he knows you can hold your own in a fight and are a good diversion tactic for nobles

✧ now because you’re the only female in the group, that automatically means if a mission requires having to flirt with a noble, you are the one to do that

✧ you’re quite honestly ashamed you have to do it in the first place, and when moran can see how uncomfortable you get during one of these missions, he’ll make an effort to pull you out fast so that you don’t have a panic attack

✧ william starts to notice this, and it isn’t an issue until moran pulls you out too fast, which infuses the noble with suspicion

✧ luckily the other boys were quick to dispose of him, and the cab ride back to the manor is deathly silent

✧ once you’re in the house, william goes absolutely ballistic on you, screaming louder than he ever has before

✧ albert is trying to calm him down while moran has to drag you out of the room, but before he can get you to move an inch william loses it

✧ “maybe if you weren’t such a whore for the colonel, the fucking mission wouldn’t have almost failed! but i’m glad to know your only priority includes getting fucked to the point where you’re brain-dead stupid by the only man in the house who would even be willing to put his dick anywhere near you,”

✧ the room goes obscenely silent

✧ albert is staring at you as your face completely drops, any angry emotion once painted across your features is replaced by an almost empty look

✧ fred has stopped watering the plants because he can’t believe the words that just left william’s mouth

✧ louis is five seconds away from dropping his cup of tea that’s shaking in his hand now

✧ moran’s eyes are wide with shock, too stunned to even begin to be angry at william

✧ you gently pull your arm out of moran’s hand before walking quietly out of the room and into your own room, closing the door with a silent click

✧ william’s shocked because usually you always have a comeback, a sarcastic remark or an insult ready to hurl back at him, so why didn’t you do that now?

✧ everyone breaks out of the trance as soon as the door shuts, and albert, louis, and fred have to hold moran back from completely pummeling william

✧ moran and you had never had that kind of relationship, if anything he was your best friend

✧ after the boys get moran to calm down, william is still standing still in his spot

✧ albert suggests going to apologize to you, and louis walks william out of the room and to your room

✧ when you don’t answer his knocks, he slowly cracks the door open, and upon hearing no response, opens it all the way to see an empty room and your window open

✧ the house erupts into chaos once again

✧ moran storms out, determined to find you, while albert goes after him because god knows what will happen

✧ louis offers to stay here in case you come back, and fred goes out on his own to look for you

✧ william has yet to say a word since yelling at you, and all he can think about was how wrong he felt after shouting like that at you

✧ fred’s the one who finds you, sitting alone in a bar all the way across town

✧ dried tear tracks decorate your face, and your hand shakes around your glass of whiskey

✧ neither of you say anything for a few minutes, until fred finally speaks up

✧ “sebastian and albert are out looking for you,”

✧ you’re quiet for another moment before responding

✧ “tell them to not bother. if i’m such a whore then clearly i’m not needed on the team,”

✧ your voice cracks at the team, and fred see how white your knuckles are for gripping your glass so damn tightly

✧ when he coaxes the glass out of your hand, he manages to convince you to come back to the manor with him, promising to keep william away from you

✧ he’ll lead you through the house, silently nodding to louis in a way of telling him you were okay, and they could talk more once you weren’t a flight risk

✧ louis goes out to bring moran and albert back, while fred gets you into bed and sits on a chair next to you to make sure you don’t leave again

✧ you haven’t said anything since the bar, so when the bedroom door opens and in walks william, you don’t speak up

✧ fred leaves to give you two some space, making sure to stand right outside of the door in case something happens

✧ william pulls the chair up next to your bed, staring at your curled up form and the way your eyes stay open and unmoving, focused on some invisible spot on the wall

✧ william’s quiet for a minute as he gathers his thoughts before finally speaking

✧ “i’m sorry for my words. i know you and colonel moran are close friends and nothing more, and i should have seen how uncomfortable the noble was making you. you aren’t a whore, and you certainly are a wonderful addition to the team. i hope you can forgive me for my rude and brash words, but for right now i’ll leave you alone,”

✧ he gets up, moving the chair back, and going to leave the room until your small hand wraps around his wrist, holding him in place

✧ he turns back to see you still staring at the floor, but fresh tears have replaced your old ones

✧ “thank you for the apology,”

✧ your voice is quiet, so quiet it can barely pass as a whisper, but he hears it all the same

✧ he nods before walking out, refusing to make eye contact with moran, who returned home and was standing just outside of your room

✧ once william’s gone, he’ll storm in and sit down on the chair next to your bed, rubbing your hand comfortingly

✧ you’re eternally appreciative of how kind he is after everything that happened, and he knows you are from the slight squeeze you give his hand

✧ he stays the entire night, making sure you won’t up and leave again

✧ the next few days, you’re much quieter than normal, and everyone can tell

✧ the air is tense, but no one says a word about what occured

✧ after the first week, william offers you a book he had in his library that he knew you liked, and it’s the one action that finally starts to set things back into place

✧ albert feels like he can finally relax after constantly watching you and william

✧ louis is relived because he can breathe again without feeling like someone was going to go ape shit again

✧ moran is his usual, laidback and snarky self

✧ the only thing that has changed is your and william’s relationship

✧ after the first week of tenseness, things only go up

✧ you both can stay in rooms with each other without constantly fighting, instead talking about a book you both have read or discussing next week’s mission plans

✧ you even manage to crack a smile around him, and vice versa

✧ everyone in the mansion is happy to see how you two start to get along, including moran because he hated how much you two fought

✧ after a month of being friendly with each other, you start to appreciate how beautiful he really was

✧ his soft blonde hair, ruby red eyes, and his smile that had you weak in the knees

✧ you both spent extended periods of time alone together, and he was starting to enjoy it too

✧ it was about a month and a half after the incident, the two of you were alone in his study standing next to each other and going over the plans for your next mission

✧ tonight you decided to tease him about how if he puts all of his time and effort into killing nobles, he’ll never get a girlfriend

✧ cue him looking up from the papers to meet your eyes, and you’re both aware of how your faces are inches away from each other

✧ neither of you can tear away from looking into each others eyes, and it’s quiet until william finally speaks

✧ “well i’d hope any girl i court would have extensive knowledge of these plans and how passionate i am about them. it helps if they’re even a part of it, say as a beautiful distraction,”

✧ both of you know he’s talking about you, and your breath hitches in your chest

✧ he’s slowly leaning down, and you know how terribly fucked you are when you meet him halfway, your lips just barely meeting for a kiss

✧ he pushes against you harder, one hand coming to rest on your waist to keep you close to him

✧ and when he pulls away blushing lightly, you both realize just how in love you actually are

✧ “i know we’ve had our fair share of cruel words, me especially, but i can’t stop myself from loving you,”

✧ his voice is soft, silently pleading for reciprocated feelings

✧ “then don’t, i’d hate for my love to go wasted,”

✧ and then he’s kissing you again, and again, and again, until neither of you can think of anything else besides loving each other

[sweetsubharry]

hey ! sorry to bother you but could you reccomend me some fics of footballer louis?? thank you !! love your acc

Hiya!!  💖you can never bother me!! ^-^ ohmgosh I’m so glad you like my blog! I love footballer louis djskasdhjag tysm(sorry it took soooo long!)

please make sure you read the tags and stay safe everyone!💖

Also these are not in any particular order, however I will say the first two are probably my favourites ;) I have to read them again right after this!

freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this by rosesau

Harry (not so) secretly crushes on the cute footie player and fills pages with sketches of him.

Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow by 1Diamondinthesun

Harry spends most of his time in an empty house or a lonely darkroom, dreaming of leaving his small town for art school. He's invisible to most people. And then Louis Tomlinson sees him. Life will never be the same.

Or, the American high school AU loosely inspired by She's All That.

Definition of Beauty by zanni_scaramouche

“Your book is upside down.” Harry nods at Louis’ book, his history text now that he sees it too.

“I’d rather study you.”

They both blink, startled by the slip.

“With you. Study with you,” Louis rushes to say. “Liam says I’m shite at history, can you help?”

Louis’ caught off guard by an omega he nearly takes out with an errant footie ball. It’s not that Louis’ never seen Harry before, it’s that he can’t stop looking, and he’s desperate to figure him out.

Coffee Cups and Football Boots by kimtaedumb

Harry’s stood behind the counter again, but this time he’s painting his nails. Louis strolls up to the counter and, thanks to his no brain-to-mouth filter, blurts out, “Isn’t that a little girlish, Haz?” leaning closer to inspect.

Harry lets out a little huff as his hand slips, “Oh, damn, now I’ve messed it up,” he pouts and turns to Louis, “Why should making myself feel pretty be girly?”

Louis holds up his hands in surrender, “’M not judging, jus’ curious is all.”

(The entirely cheesy and cliché Christmas AU, in which Harry doesn’t give a damn what people think about him – mostly – and Louis may be a little bit in love.

Alternatively, the one in which Harry owns a café that’s barely scraping by and Louis is a footballer and he takes Harry away for Christmas.

Featuring Zayn as a cocky little shit that most definitely needs to be put back in his place, Niall as the loveable Irish dude who drinks too much and flirts with Zayn more than the average girl, and Liam who loves everyone but hates them all at the same time.)

Way in the World by flowsque

When Louis Tomlinson enters the waiting room, Harry can distinctly feel his heart sinking to his stomach. The man's hair is ruffled and dishevelled and his red jersey, damp with sweat from training, clings to his perfect and chiseled body. He stands there, almost unreal, against the glass door, peering inside the office. Harry knew this would’ve happened, sooner or later. That he would have bumped into him. They play for the same club after all, even if they’re in different leagues. It’s not weird. It is not. Except it totally is. - Or, the one where Harry has a knee injury and an embarrassing crush on Manchester United's pretty number ten.

I Long For You by AnotherAnonymousWriter

Thirty minutes later, he's sat on a bench in Hyde Park with a book in his lap and a travel mug with hot tea in his hand. Not far from where he's sat, a group of boys are playing football and a bunch of children are chasing each other. Life is good.

Or at least, life is good until he hears a familiar “LOOK OUT!” and sees a football flying in the direction of his face.

And then everything is black.

(Harry gets hit in the head by various objects and falls for a boy with blue eyes.)

ease the quiet and talk me down by cabinbythesea

Harry's a model and Louis' a footie player.

(Louis teaches Harry some football and Harry is insanely good at giving a lapdance).

Baby, It's You by Bearandleonardwrite

"Oh, yeah. Um..” Harry lets his hands fall to his sides. His brows furrow, face full of concern, and he asks, “You’re not, like, stalking me, are you?”

Louis can’t help the loud cackle that escapes his lips and immediately slaps one of his hands over his mouth to muffle the sound. “Oh my god, Harry, no!” Louis tells him, a little breathlessly, giggles still bubbling out of his chest. “Lottie’s one of the makeup artists here today and she somehow got me to agree to come. I had no idea you modeled for, uh.. this brand until I saw you walk.”

“Oh,” Harry says dumbly, eyebrows still pinched. He lets what Louis just said sink in before a bright grin takes over his face and he goes back to doing up the buttons on his shirt. “Well, that’s alright, then. I’m glad you could make it.

(Basically, Louis' a footie player for Man U and Harry's a YSL model. They meet at a masquerade.)

Touch by kotabear24

Harry's shy and virginal with a past, new on the football team; Louis' the (experienced) popular star of the team and Harry's new mentor.

Come In and Change My Life by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes)

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment. He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped. He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was. Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

see the truth (it's me for you) by orphan_account

If you asked Louis the first day of his French Literature class what he’d be doing on the last, he’d probably never have guessed it would involve helping a poorly Harry Styles study for the final exam. Good thing he’s not a betting man.

(Or the one where Louis and Harry spend an entire semester ignoring each other after a one-night stand, only to come face to face when Harry manages to catch the stomach flu during finals week. Sometimes fate is funny like that.)

Use Your Words by zedi

based off this prompt: collage au where jock!harry always serenades flowercrown!louis with love songs in their music class. what nobody knows is that harry actually kinda means the words he sings.

But instead it's Louis as the jock and Harry as the flowerchild because I do what I want.

Stop The World (I Wanna Get Off With You) by ilikepianos

"You like this, don't you?", he asks breathlessly.

What? Sucking cock? Being dominated? Yes, all of that. A big fat yes.

Harry nods, lips still wrapped around Louis' throbbing dick.

Louis' lips curl into a smirk. "Keep going then. You're doing amazing, love."

OR: The uni-football AU where Harry may or may not have a minor crush on the captain of the team and suddenly discovers that the feeling is very much mutual.

Picture Perfect by LittleBubbleStyles

an AU where Louis Tomlinson is a misunderstood football player, and Harry Styles is a misunderstood photographer. Somehow, they're understood together.

I just think about my baby; I'm so full of love I could barely eat by mercutionotromeo

Harry and Louis are six hundred miles apart, but they have the same solutions to the same problem.

Or: a masturbation drabble featuring pillow humping, locker rooms, and copious amounts of dirty talk.

into another (another) serotonin overflow by mercutionotromeo

Harry wants this year to be different - wants it to be the year that he finally gets over this stupid crush. He’s going to uni, he needs to decide what he wants to do with his life.

Instead, he’s deciding what he wants to do to Louis Tomlinson.

Or: Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey.

note: it says it in the tag but this is the edited version written in 2019, rather than the 2017 original- so there’s two put I put the link for the newest one :)

need a little sweetness in my life by mercutionotromeo

Harry's always liked feeling desperate and small when Louis touches him, but when he sucks Harry off...it’s fucking otherworldly. Desperate’s not really the word at that point - it’s helpless. Like… like the fucking world could stop spinning and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until Louis finished him off with his lips and his tongue.

Or, Harry and Louis go to university together. Harry really likes it when Louis sucks him off, and Louis really likes it when Harry calls him Daddy.

(Sequel to "into another serotonin overflow")

I made a map of your stars by brightbluelou

Harry does not have a crush on Louis Tomlinson. Yes, Louis is very pretty and funny, and Harry may have had more than a few inappropriate thoughts about him, but he certainly doesn’t like him. (Except for the fact that he totally does.) or, Harry is the shy boy in the back of the class that no one really notices. Louis is the loud, outgoing football player that everybody likes.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

[or, Louis is a footballer, Harry owns a bakery, and they're having a baby.]

Kiss Me on the Mouth and Set Me Free by ls2k14   

Louis has his head thrown back in a laugh, his wet fringe hanging in front of his eyes, and a beautiful flush to his cheeks. From this angle, the sun hits his face just right to where the beams of light are shining in between the spaces of each individual clump of watered down eyelashes. His chest is showing through the soaked material of his white jersey and it seems that his biceps are attempting to break free from the sleeves that are clinging to his skin.

And Harry can do nothing except take it all in. He doesn’t even think he’s breathing at this point. He is literally stuck in place, admiring the true beauty of Louis Tomlinson, while being surrounded by fit footballers and generally attractive people. He doesn’t think he’s ever been in love before, but if Louis let him, he’s pretty damn sure he could change that in the matter of a few nanoseconds.

[anythingandeverything1d]

The tape

Your pov:

“H, do you have anything on Monday?”

Harry walked out of the bathroom, towel low on his waist, water dripping from his hair. “No..” he paused and looked down at his feet before shaking his head and smiling. “No I don’t think so. Maybe a FaceTime call with the boys but that should be it. And thats only if we decide to do that. You know how Louis has been lately with the reunion project.”

You nodded and smiled, rolling out of bed and walking over to him. You raised an eyebrow as he tugged you against his chest. His lips pressed to yours and your arms wrapped around his neck. You pulled away slightly and grinned. “Good. Because you and I have plans.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry’s lips pressed to your neck. 

“Mhm.” you laughed softly. “We have things to do. Places to be.”

“There are things we need to do now.” Harry growled, his lips touching your ear. He lightly bit your earlobe and tugged. You could feel his length pressing up against the towel and into your waist. Harry’s hands tugged at his shirt on your body. “Starting with this coming off...” Harry had the shirt pulled over your head when the phone rang. He sighed loudly and looked at you. “Don’t move.” 

You laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Yes sir.” you said laying back on the bed. Harry took one more look at you while standing in the bedroom doorway and turned back with a devious smile.

“Fuck it, they will eventually hang up.” He walked back over to you, his body falling in between your legs, the towel falling to the floor. Harry’s lips tugged at yours. His tongue flooded into your mouth and his hands moved their way down your bare chest. His fingers were rolling around your now hardened nipples when the doorbell rang again. Harry ignored it, his tongue slowly making its way down your body. He sucked and gently bit the sensitive skin on your boob, smiling knowing the mark would be there for the next few days. His tongue was at your belly button when his phone rang again, along with several other text notifications. He stood up with a groan, walking over to the phone.

“Harryyy” you whined, your heat dripping between your thighs from the anticipation. 

“Hello?” he answered holding up a finger to wait.. “What do you mean? No, there shouldn’t be any stories out, I’ve been with (y/n) all weekend....Fuck okay I’m coming.” Harry looked at you and and you sighed as he dug through his drawers. You stood up and walked into the bathroom to clean up since this didn't seem to be going anywhere now. Harry was now getting angry. You could hear him yelling into his phone frustrated with whoever was on the other side. You jumped in the shower and once you were done, Harry seemed to be finished with his call. He had gotten fully dressed and smiled softly when you walked back into the room. 

“Where are you going?” you asked confused. He was dressed for some kind of meeting it looked like.

“I have to go talk to my management team...”

“Why? Wait, no. We were supposed to go out...Harry we've had this date night planned for weeks and the guys are all expecting us....”

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry...I don't have a choice here...”

“Babe-”

“(y/n) look I can’t go anymore okay? I’m sorry but thats just how its going to be tonight.”

Your mouth dropped. Harry rarely got angry at you and when he did it was normally your fault. This was out of line. “Whatever.” you turned and walked back into the bathroom, locking the door.

“Babe I’m sorry..” He knocked softly on the door. “I didn't mean to yell...”

You didn’t answer but you heard him leave. You sighed and rolled your eyes annoyed he had ruined the moment and gotten angry. You were also annoyed he was putting management above you. You were supposed to be the most important thing in his life. At least that’s what he had told you when you had argued last time about him not being home enough.

Niall’s pov:

Niall was sat around a table with Louis and Liam. They were all joking about how Harry and (y/n) never got the time or date right when they had planned an outing. They also joked about how Harry had to bring (y/n) to everything. Not that they didn’t love her, but it kind of defeated the point about a guys night. She had gone through so much with them though...from One Direction days to solo albums. She had been there through it all, making sure all of the guys stayed in touch during the hiatus. The waitress was just setting drinks down when everyone’s phones started blowing up. No one seemed bothered by the fact their phones were all blowing up. Liam was flirting with the waitress and Louis was backing him up. Niall picked up his phone, read the first message, and reads aloud mocking the article title, “HARRY STYLES SEX TAPE LEAKED!”

“Give it a rest.” Louis laughs. “Harry is more careful with that kind of stuff than anyone I have ever met.”

“It’s just a hoax like the rest of them, made to get views and people talking. Management probably leaked it.” Liam added winking at the waitress across the room.

Niall hasn’t looked up, he’s scrolling through the article and clicking play on the video. Niall’s face pales and his mouth drops. The guys all look at him concerned that he hasn’t joked back. “What is it?” Louis asks trying to take the phone. 

Niall places the phone down on the table for everyone to see. ‘It’s not fake.....”

“Shi-” Louis starts but Niall shakes his head.

“It’s also not (y/n).” he finishes looking up at them. 

“No way. There’s no way.” Liam shakes his head. 

“What do we do?” Niall asks laughing uncomfortably.

“We need to call Harry. What if they don't know.”

“It’s trending on Twitter, there’s absolutely no fucking way he doesn’t know. The real question is...does (y/n) know?” Louis shakes his head.

“She’s probably pissed.” Liam adds taking a sip of his drink.

“No she’s probably upset. No wonder they didn’t come.” Niall stands up. “We should go check on her. Make sure she’s okay..she what happened when they found out. They’ve been dating for years, this is going to kill her.”

The guys nodded, leaving money on the table and standing up. Louis laughs, “Niall the hero, saving (y/n) from her despair.”

“Shut up Louis.” Niall shakes his head. “This isn't about me.”

“Oh yeah, didn't you have a crush on her like when they first started dating?” Liam laughs.

“Yeah, but clearly that’s been over. She’s just my friend. I want to make sure she’s okay.” He led the guys from the restaurant and jumped in the car, map questing directions to Harry’s house.

Your pov:

Harry had been gone almost an hour and you had yet to hear anything from him. You were just laying on the couch watching reruns of friends when someone knocked at your door. You sighed and stood up, running to answer it. You smiled as the door opened. “Niall!” You hugged him tightly and then moved on to the others. “Lou!” Louis laughed uncomfortably and you gave him a confused look before moving to Liam. “Liam...” Liam was shifting nervously not looking at you and you stepped back. Paparazzi were rushing towards the gate so you moved the party inside. “What’s wrong?” you asked. They all looked like they were going to be sick...Niall kept looking like he was sorry. Liam looked away every time you looked at him and Louis just had his lips pressed together.

“Did you forget about lunch?” Louis asked grabbing your arm and pulling you to the couch.

You sighed. “Lunch? I thought we were doing dinner...is that why you are all upset. I’m sorry about not showing up...Harry just got a call and left without even saying anything.”

“A call about what?” Liam asked sitting across from you on the couch.

“I’m not sure....management called but he didn’t say where he was going. Why? What do you guys know that I don't?”

They all looked away. Niall sighed and pulled out his phone. “Have ya checked Twitter at all today?”

“No....why?” You grabbed your phone and unlocked it. Louis pulled it from your hands. “What the hell Louis?”

Louis looked at the guys and shook his head. “This isn’t our fight. Harry should talk to her about it...not us. He’s going to be pissed we got involved.”

“It revolves around her though. She’s tagged in it all. She has a right to know.” Niall argued. “Harry shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

“Done what?” you felt sick. What was going on? What was Harry hiding? Why were the guys acting like this? You looked at Liam. He had been like an older brother to you for years. “Liam.”

Liam sighed and nodded to Louis. “She needs to know. When we leave she’s going to figure it out. We need to be here for her when she does.” Louis nodded and handed your phone back. You stared at all of them confused.

“Why are you treating me like I’m not sitting right next to you?”

“Just look at the phone...” Niall sighed.

You pulled up Twitter. You have over 4,000 notifications which was never a good sign. You clicked on the first one reading out loud, “Harry doesn’t deserve (y/n). She’s too good for this.” You clicked another. “I feel so sorry for (y/n)...Maybe there's an explanation.” The last one you clicked had your mind spinning. “Imagine just waking up and finding out that not only has your boyfriends sex tape been leaked but also that its not featuring you. Here for you (y/n).” Tears were flooding your eyes when you looked up at Niall. “It’s not true....right? Tell me it’s not true....” Louis scooted closer to you and draped an arm over your shoulder.

“I mean technically we don’t really know...”

“What the hell do you mean Louis. We all watched the video at lunch.” Niall was pissed he was pacing back and forth between the two couches.

You shook your head. You were now crying. Louis was rubbing your back and you fell into his lap. “No. It can’t be real.” Liam moved over and sat next to you. He held your hand and gently squeezed. “I want to see it.” You looked up, tears flowing down your cheeks. “I want to see proof.”

Niall sighed and clicked on the original link before handing you the phone. You carefully read every line and clicked the video. Your stomach flipped. Harry was in his room, your room. He was naked, his tattoos clearly visible. There was a girl. It wasn’t you. He was kissing her, she was stripping, he was pulling his pants down. He didn’t seem to be drunk. He was talking dirty to her. He called her beautiful. He had sex with her. You flew up from the couch, running to the bathroom. Niall was at your side. You threw up, the video you had just watched had physically made you ill. Harry had cheated on you. He had filmed it. It was out in the public now. Niall held back your hair and Louis brought a cup of water. “(y/n)...” Liam started.

You sank to the floor, your back against the toilet. You were sobbing. You couldn’t breathe. The boys looked like they were contemplating how to handle this. “When did this come out?” you asked looking at him.

“We aren't sure exactly...we saw the notifications at lunch-”

“So Harry was having sex with me or trying to when all of this was happening. He was trying to fuck me when his fucking sex tape was released to the public.”

“Uh-” Louis tried interrupting but you kept going.

“Harry cheated on me. After 7 years. He just decided to fuck someone else?” you were processing everything in your head out loud to the boys who had no idea what to say. “What did I do?” you cried harder. Louis sighed and pulled you into a tight hug.

“You didn’t do anything love. Harry’s mistakes are his own. They don't revolve around you. He’s a fucking idiot for doing it.”

“We don’t know the full story either...I mean we all know how media twists stories...”

“Liam, he’s having sex with-with another girl. What full story is there that makes that okay?” Liam closed his mouth and sighed. You let Louis pull you to your feet. “I want to leave.”

“What?” Louis asked confused.

“I want out of this house. I don’t want to be here when Harry gets back either. I want to leave.” Louis handed you a tissue and nodded. 

“You can come to my place love, I’ll wait with ya.”

“We all will.” Niall added and Liam nodded. Niall grabbed an extra pair of clothes and some toiletries while Louis helped you out to the car. The paparazzi were all shouting questions asking what the story was. You wished you knew. Liam handed you your phone but you shook your head. 

“I don’t want it. I don’t want to see anymore.” He nodded sadly and sat in the drivers seat. Niall joined with a bag of your things and you all drove to Louis’. L

ouis set you up in his guest bedroom and asked if you needed anything. You shook your head and pulled off your shirt. Louis turned around but you didn’t care at this point. You threw on a pair of comfy sweatpants that Niall had grabbed you along with a crop top. You wiped your tears and snot on your old shirt and crawled into bed. You had finally stopped crying but you were exhausted. 

“We are going to order some food...anything sound good?”

You shook your head no, not trusting any words that might come out of your mouth. Louis nodded and closed the door softly, not wanting anymore tears to begin. Your mind was moving a hundred miles a minute and it made you feel sick. You closed your eyes and tugged the blanket to your chin. Images of Harry and that girl flashed through your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

Eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you woke up. You heard doors slamming, Niall shouting, Liam trying to diffuse the situation, but overall you heard one very loud and clear deep voice. “Where is she? Louis tell me where the fuck my girlfriend is!” 

---

So I got this as a request and ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I actually was planning on using the first part of this as a similar story but when this request came through I decided to mesh the two together. Hope you enjoy!

Check out part 2 here: The tape (part 2)

xoxo