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fragileizywriting · 3 years

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locker talk (chapter 2) is out now!

pairing: Luka / Marinette (Viperion / Multimouse) word count: 8,961 / 16,208 (in total) chapter: 2/3 rating: E summary: “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little lost. Did something happen at Uni, again?” “I’m peachy,” Multimouse wheezes, snapping back into focus. What was she even doing here, again? What was the point of showing up? She can’t even remember. Right. Right. Seduce him. Sort of. Or at least confess. Or at least get to kiss him again… “Perfectly peachy. Everything is so much wetter— better— now that I’m here. Nothing happened at school— I just— oh gooseberries.” Luka barks out a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. She wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks.

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | You Are Here! | Chapter Three Link

Thank you so much for the love you've given me for this fic! I appreciate every single one of you so much 💕💕💕💕

The third chapter will be posted very soon!!!

She’s showered. She’s shaved. She’s gotten shampoo in her eye.

She hopes the redness isn’t noticeable.

Multimouse is many things— friendly, approachable, known as Paris’s sweetheart with many sweet bakery treats named after her using puns, such as Multi-feuille, or Multideleines— but they have no idea that she sits on top of the Liberty’s roof, wiggling her toes over the Seine, trying not to bite her lips raw at the thought of trying to seduce the guy she’s already had a feverish moment with.

It’s a soft night, with small dots of twinkling stars that burn and force their way through the light-polluted Parisian night, but she doesn’t mind how it’s dark enough out that no one can really see her unless they purposely go looking for her. She’s practically invisible, with the closest street lamp to her still being too far away for her to be illuminated by it. No one knows that she’s here— no one knows that she’s hiding in the shadows.

Quiet— quaint— small and hidden away like an actual mouse that sticks to the shadows so that she isn’t seen. She’s not sure if it’s Mullo’s instincts that coerce her to stick to the shadows or if it’s just her nerves.

After all— getting here, onto the Liberty, was half of the battle for her.

She’s never done this before. She’s never even considered this an option… how does she do this? She doesn’t even have a solid plan.

And Multimouse never not has a plan.

Even if she knows that Viperion— no, Luka— likes her, thinks about her sexually— she just can’t shake the feeling that her confession isn’t going to work out in her favor, that she’s going to walk away embarrassed and humiliated.

She can prepare and prepare again and over prepare for whatever she’s planning all she wants— but it’s the actual doing part that she usually gets stuck on. She can shower, she can shave, she can get shampoo in her eyes— she can text Juleka to maybe casually imply that she’s going to try to confess to her brother, not mentioning that she’s going to do it as her superhero identity instead of Marinette, and actually get Juleka to push everyone out of the house on one nice and evening Friday night— but none of that matters if she doesn’t actually get here.

She got here.

And now is dawdling on the next step— actually talking to him.

She has to try. Juleka had cleared the boat of stragglers in record time when she found out that she’d been planning on confessing to her brother— Multimouse seriously has no idea how the girl managed to get her mother off the boat, but she’s gone. It’s just him in there now. She’s grateful that she doesn’t have access to her nails to chew them through, because she’s shaking like a battery from how much her nerves consume her.

She plays with her necklace between her hands as she leans forward to put her elbows on her thighs, looking out to the water below— looking down at how the only open-blind window on the boat flickers with light as he passes next to it.

It sounds like he’s finished taking his shower— but all of it is really muffled, given that he lives in the equivalent of a metal can with sails— but either way, she stands up and starts to creep her way towards the front entrance of his house before she can convince herself that this is a bad idea and that she should turn around and book it and pretend that she never thought of this idea in the first place. Besides, it can’t be that bad of an idea, right?

This is a bad idea.

This is a very bad idea— oh— oh no.

She barely finishes knocking on the window next to the door before he pulls it open with a yelp and a curse spilling out of his lips, halfway through putting on his shirt. She stands there, transfixed, trying not to burst into flames as she catches the sight of toned and defined muscle from years of hard-earned wins against Hawkmoth disappear behind the widest shirt in existence with a heavy-metal band logo she’s never heard of, and how those muscles trail down and disappear into very low-riding sweatpants.

She knows he has muscles— she knows how big his arms are and that the pattern of his scales on his suit aren’t just to give the illusion of abs— because she’s seen him many times before with barely anything of a shirt on when the summer heat in Paris is too rough and everyone piles onto the Liberty to attempt to catch a draft.

She’s seen the way his back muscles move when he’s helping tear down stage sets for his band— she’s had many glass bottles of soda slip out of her hands at the sight of him naturally keeping up with Ivan and Kim’s strength— she’s seen all of it. Luka is nothing short of strong.

But now she knows just how it feels to have those same muscles pressed up against her. She might faint. “Uhm.”

“Hey! Sorry— I didn’t know you were going to come over tonight— you scared me with that knock. I thought I had the whole boat to myself.” Luka smiles at her, using his arm with the snake tattoo that wraps and coils around his forearm to pull out a couple necklaces of his own from underneath his shirt. Even though the shirt is wide, it seems to have a bit of a problem wrapping comfortably around his shoulders— and the neckline is wide enough to show his collarbones.

What does she even focus on? What does she want to look at the most?

“Sorry—” She blinks fast. Shirt. Chest. Arms. Sweatpants. Smile. Lips. Lips that bruised her neck so badly she had to keep her hair down for the entire week just to hide it from Alya’s enthusiastic gaze. Kissable lips. Lips she imagines all over her body all the time. Lips that— “S-sorry! Uhm. I’m just, uh— I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“I’m kidding, Mousey—” He’s all teeth when he smiles. She knows how those feel on her skin now, too— she knows how it feels to have him drag his mouth and lips all over her jaw— she has to lean against the door frame to stop herself from collapsing from how much she wants to feel it all over again. Her skin feels sensitive just at the thought. “I just got out of the shower and it was totally quiet out there. Really did think it was just going to be a quiet night by myself. Even mom’s out— probably went to go harass that last cop that gave her warning for the noise complaint. What do you think?”

Had he thought about her in the shower? He’s not flushed at all— nothing indicative of anything he had said inside the closet about how he’s always thinking of her— but Luka’s usually not one to lose his cool. It’s impossible to get a gauge out of his emotions when he hides it— something he’s incredibly good at when he’s Viperion. She’s shown up after his shower— presumably the time where he thinks about her in the most private way— and there’s absolutely nothing telling her that it’s true.

She never would’ve known if he hadn’t told her in the closet.

Assuming he even was telling the truth…

“Mousey?”

She snaps back into focus. “Oh! Right! Uhm— are you busy? D-do you want me to leave? Come back another time? When you’re not busy? Very busy?”

“Busy? Yeah, right,” He snorts good humoredly. “Busy on my laptop watching videos, probably. This place is an absolute bust when there’s no one here— you’re doing me a favor by being here.”

“S-so you don’t want me to leave?” She eeps. If he even makes one single implication that he doesn’t want her to show up, she’ll turn around and leave with no hesitation— her nerves are eating at her to the point where she’s ready to run anyways.

“No, of course not. Stay. Please.” He adjusts his necklaces to stop tangling with each other. They jingle when they hit together— a pleasant clinking noise on a pleasant night, but she’s busy taking in how shiny and pearlescent his arm is with the beautiful blue color on the coils of the snake’s body and how it matches the gold diamond shapes in strategic places. “You’re always welcome here, you know. I love it when you’re here.”

“Yep— yes. Totally.”

His hair is so much blacker and so much more bluer when it’s wet. She can’t stop staring at him, her mouth shaped into a circle, as he looks down at her with a shift in his brows when he’s stopped focusing on his necklaces. “You okay?”

“Wet.”

He blinks very slowly, speaking to her so softly, almost as if she’ll scamper off if he startles her. “Oh. Are you?”

“I meant— I meant your hair—” She squeaks, trying her best not to catch on fire from the way her cheeks heat and steam, waving her hands in the air, steaming harder when he laughs. “Sorry— oh my gooseberries I’m so sorry— that was so weird I didn’t mean to say that outloud, I mean, I just, I didn’t know you wash your hair at night— uhm— it just caught me by surprise!”

“Take a breath,” He smiles.

“Sorry,” She does.

“You need to work on your meditation again, you’re not focusing as well as you usually do.” He tilts his head with a wink. She tries her best not to follow the drops of water down his neck, down to where there’s a very obvious bruise on the side of his neck. Oh. Oh. She did that. She… she did that. She bit him. And grinded on him. And listened to him talk about how much he wanted to finger her— “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little lost. Something happen at Uni again?”

“I’m peachy,” She wheezes, snapping back into focus. What was she even doing here, again? What was the point of showing up? She can’t even remember. Right. Right. Seduce him. Sort of. Or at least confess. Or at least get to kiss him again… “Perfectly peachy. Everything is so much wetter— better— now that I’m here. Nothing happened at school— I just— oh gooseberries.”

He barks out a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. She wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks. “Alright, let’s backtrack for a bit so you get your focus back. Do you not wash your hair at night?”

She’s so thankful for this man.

“My hair is too thick for that, I need to wash it in the mornings or it’ll never dry.” She ignores her voice crack. What is she doing, talking about hair care at his door, eyes missile-locked onto the bite mark on his neck? Why is she like this? “A-anyway! Sorry to— drop in on you— I know it’s really late— uhm— I just wanted to, uh— talk? To you? Maybe? But, again, it’s okay if you’re busy— watching videos is always really fun, isn’t it? I totally won’t mind—”

“You’re thinking too much, Mousey.” He grins. “It’s fine. I’ve never not wanted you here before, right? Let’s shut the door before someone sees you.”

As if Paris would believe anyone gossipping about Paris’s sweetheart dropping by a houseboat in the middle of the city, chatting up a man only a year older than her during the night time. She’s pretty sure that everyone is convinced that she’s perpetually stuck at the age of fifteen, instead of twenty four— always too small and too cinnamon roll and too pure to be sneaking into men’s houses, because that’s not what Multimouse does.

Sometimes being adored by millions and being put on a pedestal by this city is taxing. She doesn’t mind being considered sweet and friendly— but it’s exhausting to have to hear the slight infantilization the city ends up pushing on her. Maybe she should try cursing in public during a fight— see how many people she ends up disappointing.

She wonders if Luka hates being considered the silent, brooding type. He’s approachable— but most people on the internet and Alya’s commenters on the blog assume that he’s dark— mysterious— handsome and well spoken almost like a prince.

If only.

He has a mouth of a sailor. She’s seen him get coffee foam up his nose from laughter whenever she tries the aerial rope and continuously ends up failing. He doesn’t know how to swim, even though he lives on a boat— he writes so much music in his notebooks that his room is an absolute mess of paper that he tries to keep organized using folders and binders and sticking loose leafs of poetry on the walls.

The last time they watched a documentary about penguins, he’d cried the whole way through, talking about how he wishes he could help all the exhausted and freezing little chicks. Not to mention whenever there’s a documentary about rodents on the television, he ends up crying too, smothering her in hugs that makes her face burst into flames.

The comments did get it right about the handsome, though. Very handsome.

“A-are you sure?”

“Come on. I want you inside.”

She closes the door behind her, making sure that her tail isn’t snipped off on accident, trying not to loop the words come and I and want and you in her head. Even with all the nasty, absolutely dirty things he’s said to her already— somehow that manages to get her knees to almost buckle.

“So, uhm, is your family home? Juleka? Maybe?” Her voice is absolutely not this high! Get it together!

He blinks at her curiously, thinning his lips as he no-doubt tries to keep his laughter in. Luka’s always been a tease. “You know the answer to that, don’t you?”

Does he mean that he knows that Marinette was supposed to show up to his house? Oh, no. What has she done? Was it a bad idea telling Juleka to possibly go to Rose’s house, and maybe spend the night there, if all went well? How does she get out of this one? “W-well— I—”

“Best hearing in Paris, after all, right? You’d be able to hear if anyone else was on the boat with us.”

Duh. God, she feels like an idiot. “Y-yeah. I know. I just— I just wanted to know. To hear you say it, I mean.”

“Did you?” His face transforms into one full of humor, and she can do nothing but bite her lip raw at how handsome he is when his eyes crinkle in that boyish way of his. “What did you want to hear me say, Mousey?”

Anything. Everything. As long as he keeps talking, she’ll be miserable— but loving every moment of it, and he’ll have no idea because Luka doesn’t know that she knows he’s Viperion and thinks about his voice so often that she’s constantly balancing on a hair trigger.

“Uhm—” She taps her fingers along her thighs. “I— you know— I just wanted to hear you say that we’re alone.”

“Only that?” He hums, turning around to go probably drop off his towel back in the bathroom.

“Yes?” She’s never been so unsure before in her life, and she flounders as she follows him further into the boat, following him into his room just past the kitchen. “I mean yes obviously— why would I— need or want more— uhm— that would be— weird and definitely wouldn't make any contextual sense— I mean it’s not as if I—”

He pauses to look at her. She does her absolute best not to burst into flames. “You know, I’ve never realized it until now— you are absolutely one horny girl, little mouse. Dropping by and immediately asking me to start pillow talking you—”

She doesn’t even hear him, bouncing on the balls of her boots, squeaking a floorboard that is always loose no matter how much the Couffaines try to glue or hammer it down. She’s certain she’s watched them rip out just to put back a new floorboard— and yet it still continues to squeak. “That’s not true! That’s totally not true I’m— you know— I’m just—”

“Yes?”

“It’s just that your voice is melodical— it’s so soothing and you know I have anxiety and things but being able to hear your voice always makes me calm down— it’s so nice to just— just relax— and let someone else think of things for me—”

“Breathe, Mousey.”

“Thank you.” She gasps in air, proving his point for him.

His eyes shine with something as she sucks in her breaths. “How long have you been waiting for me to pull you inside and take care of you?”

She whines, crossing her arms. “You’re being totally unfair right now, Luka, you can’t just start talking dirty to me—”

He laughs, pulling open the door to his room. “I’m not talking dirty to you, not yet.”

“And just assume that I’ll listen—”

He pauses again to look at her, and it’s enough to make her bite her lip by how absolutely jaw-dropping he looks. “Oh, you won’t? And here I thought that’s what you wanted. Is that not what you wanted?”

“What do you—”

His eyelashes are black smudges against his cheeks as his gaze drops to her lips when he brushes her jaw with the back of his hand. “Do you not want me to take care of you in the way you want? Do you not want me to tell you all of the filthiest things you want to hear?”

“Gooseberries you have no idea how much I’ll listen if you do because I will— I promise you I will— I mean I’ll do anything as long as you keep talking— I promise— I’ll be good for you, I promise—” She almost smacks her forehead in an attempt to stop squeaking out her words, instead choosing to nearly rub her cheeks raw with her gloves.

Gentle and giant hands reach for her wrists with such slowness it almost boarders asinine. “Hey. Don’t hurt yourself— that looks like it hurts.”

She drops her hands from her face without question, letting him pet and smooth away the redness from her skin. “But— I— come on, I have to focus first! At least let me try to say what I came here to say, don’t just immediately flip the script back on me!”

He turns to walk into his room, leaving her standing there, looking around and wondering if that was an invitation to start talking. He’s cleaned his room a bit— there’s no laundry on the floor this time— but his room still continues to look like a snake’s den from how cluttered it is.

He sits down comfortably in that pouf chair of his, the one she’s always wondered how it fit through the front door. Maybe they floated it in through the window, she’s not sure. It’s massive— huge— full of stuffing and fun to sit on whenever she’s here for a party and is starting to feel drunk, or here to goof off in his presence whenever it’s just the two of them and she has nothing better to do. It’s close enough to Luka’s bed that it feels like a challenge, for her, and she always feels victorious whenever she manages to convince herself to sit there.

“How long have you known, Mull?”

“K-known what?” She freezes at the doorframe, finally realizing what’s happened when he simply spins the leather strap of his miraculous on his wrist, looking at her with raised brows. “Uhm.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh oh. Oh no. Oh no. How did you—”

“I don’t think you make it a habit of begging any man you come across, unless you know who they are already.”

“I— yes— only you, Luka. I’ve only begged for you.” She nods very slowly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” Some form of a thought twinkles in his eyes as he says it. “Not yet, at least. Don’t freak out, it’s okay that you know. I kind of figured you knew. It’s okay.”

“Y-you did?”

“Of course.”

“But—” She gestures around. “How?”

He tilts his head, looking at her with such a curious face. “Intuition, I guess. Or maybe paranoia. Hey, have you known for longer than a year?”

“Ah—” She shifts on her feet. “No. Sort of. I kinda was guessing it, but— I mean— I got genuine confirmation about a month ago.”

“Have you been showing up because you knew?”

“No, no. I didn’t know when I first started showing up— I’ve been showing up because I really like you— you as in Luka, that is. And then I found Sass playing hide and seek with Mullo when I went to the bathroom, and, well I totally didn’t know what to do when I found out that you were actually in fact my partner— and then I couldn’t stop thinking about you and by then I— I had already— fallen in— uhm— with you on both sides—”

This takes him by surprise. “You’ve been here detransformed?”

She pinches her eyes shut. “Uhm—”

“We know each other, don’t we?” He exhales. “That— I mean— that does make sense. You are always so conveniently close by whenever there’s an Akuma that attacks the Liberty— and only god fucking knows why it’s always the Liberty. You’d think my mom would learn after a while to stop picking fights with the cops. Or the government in general. This place is a breeding ground for Akumas— Hawkmoth is one day just going to set up camp around here, I think.”

He taps at his jaw as he thinks. No doubt he’s trying to place her as one of his friends— or maybe his sister’s.

“It’s a good thing Couffaines know how to party, right?” She eeps into the silence, trying not to bolt for the door. Would he try following her? Would he grab her and pin her down so she can’t try to give up from how embarrassed she is? Would he let her go? She’d be far too easy to catch, if he did go after her— she’s weak at the knees at the idea of being in his arms again. “I mean— It’s always so much fun being here but I understand if you don’t want me to— to show up— anymore— and—”

“Little mouse, I hope you know I’m not mad. I can’t be mad at you.” Those six little words makes her legs weak by how thankful she is. She could weep— already starting to feel how her eyes water at the words. “I’d never be mad at you for knowing. I just— I wish I knew sooner, too.”

“I didn’t know what to do—” She hunches her shoulders, trying her absolute best not to curl in on herself but not having too much of a say in it as her body goes through the motions on its own. “I couldn’t just stop showing up, cause then you’d suspect it—”

“It would’ve been okay if you had told me, just like there’s nothing wrong with you telling me now.” He extends out his arm, asking for her hand.

She hides her face in her gloves. “I’m sorry. I really, really am sorry, Luka— I really f-fucked up.”

“No you didn’t.”

Those words fill her stomach with butterflies, stopping her from forming any more tears. “I— I didn’t?”

“Of course not, Mull. It’s okay.”

“But I—”

“It’s alright— I know why you didn’t tell me— it’s okay. I’m not upset at you— I’m not disappointed.” He gives her a smile. “Come here. You look like you’re about to cry— I don’t want you to cry.”

She crosses into his room, making sure to step over the scattered amps and repeaters— his guitar case, too— willingly reaching for his hand by giving him four of her fingers. His smile widens when she makes contact with his hands— his fingernails nearly as black as her suit.

His thumb rubs against the hexleather that wraps around her knuckles, and she tries her best not to sound so needy when she drops to her knees so they can be at a better height with each other. She doesn’t like it when she’s taller, so she fits between the opening of his legs just enough so she can place her forearm on his thighs, looking up at him with what she hopes is a thankful smile, even as her eyesight wavers.

“Congratulations on saying your first curse word,” He pets underneath her eyes with a laugh. She can’t feel it, because of the domino mask, but it’s comforting enough to her that her eyes squint at the sensation. “I never thought I’d be the one to hear it first.”

“I’ve cursed before,” Her smile twitches as she tries not to giggle despite the tears that collect at the sides of her eyes. “I just don’t make it a habit.”

“Oh yeah? What other curse words have you said?”

“I think I’ve said ‘ass’ before.” She has to think about it, much to his amusement. “Well. If I hadn’t before, I guess I have now.”

His laughter consumes him. “What a milestone.”

“You’ve been many of my firsts,” She smiles with him. “Maybe hopefully all of them can be with you, too?”

His face blossoms in color— she’s never seen him caught so off guard before. Maybe he isn’t as cool and collected as she’s always thought— maybe he does actually get satisfaction when she says what’s on her mind about how she’s wanting to have everything with him. “God, who are you, Mull? Who’s the girl of my dreams who keeps telling me she wants everything I can give her? Is it even a good idea to tell me?”

“You can know,” She nods, shivering as he brushes her jawline with his black nails and back of his palm. She likes these gentle touches— she likes the way it feels to have such a loving hand on her. “It’s only fair.”

“Hmmm, no. I want you to tell me if you want to tell me.” His eyes narrow at her. “Don’t tell me just to even the playing field. If you want to remain anonymous, I don’t mind.”

It always worries her at how plain kind and loyal he is. He would be completely right if he decided to kick her out— or to turn her away— but instead of any anger or resentment he’s simply there.

He’s always there for her— always making sure that she’s okay. If she’s eaten. If she’s going to get home safely, when the Akuma attacks are at night. It’s hard not to fall in love with a man who cares about her in the way he does. He’s always been a nurturing man— he’s never hard on her, even when he has the right to be.

Well. He’s only hard on her when they’re stuck in a closet together.

“You don’t?”

“Okay, maybe that’s a bit of a lie,” Luka smiles as he looks down at her. His sweatpants are soft against her cheek as she continues to blink slowly up at him, trying not to purse her lips in want. “I’m very curious about who you are, Mousey. I’ve always wondered who’s the girl underneath— I’ve known you since we were fifteen. Of course I want to know more about the girl who takes up so much of my notebooks.”

“I don’t mind you knowing.” She eeps.

“You don’t?”

“No— not at all! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, really, Luka. Our friends kept telling me to try asking you out— god, Jules especially, but I— I really couldn’t do any of it, I kept chickening out.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“And then I found out that it’s so much easier to talk to you when I’m in the suit— so I— I kept trying to get the courage to ask you out in the suit and then I found out that you’re Viperion and I just didn’t know how to handle it— so I just— and then the closet— and I made up my mind to tell you— you— today about my feelings. Pretty sure your sister was going to fillet me alive if I texted her saying I couldn’t do it. ”

Something clicks in his head, she can see it. “Marinette.”

“Well, yeah, I mean I could’ve tried as myself but I mean I don’t have any faith in myself at all—” She almost bites her tongue. “What?”

“Marinette?” He tilts his head. “The only person I know that could be your height— could be your size— and a girl I’ve barely been able to get a couple of sentences out of.”

“Hi.” Multimouse says, trying to swallow, but somehow not being able to. “Yes. That’s me?”

“Hi,” His smile softens. “That makes sense, you know. Juleka even thought that the hickey on my neck was from you when she saw it, and I didn’t understand why.”

How mortifying. “S-she did?”

“Oh. Oh. That’s why you ended up in my bed that one night, isn’t it? Because you like me and you were too drunk to stop wanting to cuddle?”

She worries her lip between her teeth. His gaze drops to watch her chew her bottom lip almost raw. “Oh. Yes— that’s— uhm. Please don’t hate me— I’m sorry— your bed has always looked so comfortable— and I really wanted to sleep next to you—”

“Take a breath, Mari.” His eyes glitter when she sucks in a breath on command. She would feel embarrassed by how easy it is for her to comply, but all she feels is warmth that starts to coil in between her legs whenever he tells her to do something. “It’s okay. I’m so happy it’s you.”

“You are? You don’t hate me?”

“Absolutely don’t hate you. I’d never be able to hate you— how could I hate you?”

“No?”

“Never.”

“Not even if I got us stuck in a closet together for an hour—”

“Definitely not then, either.” He grins. “Fuck, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that. About you.”

“M-me neither,” She confesses easily, trying not to shift too much between his legs. “I— I’ve been wanting— uhm—”

“Ah, yes. That. You can say it, can’t you?” He leans forward so that she has to lean back in order to not get her face shoved into his chest from the angle. “Can you say it for me? I want to hear you say it, if you’re willing.”

She cranes her neck up to look at him square in the eyes, still sitting on her folded knees and calves, looking at the way his mouth quirks to the side as he licks his teeth. His necklaces dangle— jingle like dog tags between them— hitting her lightly on the collarbone but with just enough pressure to make her make a noise that sounds like an unf. “I— uhm— I’ve been wanting more. Ever since we did it in the closet.”

He almost looks surprised at her admission. “Good job, Mull.”

She feels a little brave. “I want to— if you’re willing— spend the night with you. Please.”

He groans. “Of course I want to spend the night with you. Every night. Keep you here in my room for weeks— you don’t have to ask if I’m willing— but it’s nice to hear it. It always reminds me at how good of a person you are.”

Warmth explodes on her cheeks as she blushes. “I’ve— I’m— I have to ask.”

“I know.”

“I know that I’m the one that is always so shy and timid— but— you deserve to have your boundaries respected too, Luka.”

“I think I like this better than when you call me Vai,” He laughs. He kisses her on the cheek— below the eyelids— where the lip of her domino mask meets skin— missing her mouth entirely even as she turns to try to meet him. She tries not to whine as she grips the fabric that bunches at his knees. “Not that the nickname isn’t good— it’s perfect— but you don’t understand just how many times I jack off while thinking about you calling me by my real name, Mousinette.”

She squeaks at the nickname, trying not to blossom into a full-body red. “I— how many times?”

“Every night,” He says simply, like he’s relaying the weather. He has no idea how his words burn in her core— why her tail becomes so agitated, even if it’s only half sentient— why exactly she gasps as she feels a sharp zing that settles between her legs. “I’m so glad that Marinette ended up being the little mouse I think about every night.”

“Every—?”

“Imagine my surprise, getting out of a shower after thinking about nothing but you and all the noises you made in my ear and seeing you stand there in front of my door.” He grins against her skin. Will he bite her? Snatch her and keep her? Use her as nothing but a bed warmer? “Fuck, Mousey. If I hadn’t been debating on whether or not you knew I would’ve dragged you into my room and onto my bed without even saying hello.”

“Please. Please.” She swallows, the idea of never leaving his burrow almost making her want to pounce on him. “I want that.”

“It’s getting harder and harder to stop thinking about you when you’re gone.”

“W-why?”

“You don’t think I can forget about you after that wonderful performance you gave me, do you?” Even when not transformed, and he doesn’t have any fangs, his teeth graze along her skin in a way that makes her toes twitch in her boots. She shivers as he follows her neck up to the patch of skin behind the ear, nosing into the sensitive area to the point where she pants. “I’ll be honest, I came home that night wanting more.”

“I— I can— give you more,” She tilts her head to the side, letting him kiss and suck bruises into her skin. She bruises like a peach, usually, and for the second time in her life she’s so thankful for how pale her skin is. “S-so much more.”

“Can you?”

“Please— I can give you anything you’d like, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it—”

“Within reason, of course.”

“Within reason,” She parrots, but more out of politeness than anything else. It’s only fair for her to agree— she obviously doesn’t want to be uncomfortable throughout any of this— but her list of potential no’s is definitely dwindling as the nights go on and she is subjected to fantasy after fantasy of what she wants him to do with her. To her. The preposition isn’t important anymore. She wants it all. “But I’d do anything for you, Luka. I— I may not have done much— any— at all before, but I want to. I trust you not to do anything damaging, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No— of course not. I wouldn’t dream of putting you through pain.”

Something cold whooshes in her stomach. “N-no?”

“I’m not a brute, you know— you deserve something gentle— I want to be gentle with you— I’m still worried you’re afraid of me. Besides, I don’t like the idea of hurting you in general, it wouldn’t feel right.”

“No? Not… even a little tiny smidge? Maybe?” She squeaks out that last part, feeling self conscious about the way he pauses. There’s a question forming, she can tell by the way his brows pinch together— she bites her lip to stop herself from making a noise.

His gaze drops to her lips, and instead of responding to what she’s proposed, he whispers out: “Don’t hurt yourself, Mousey.”

He kisses her. Hard— almost painful, ironically— with the way he clicks their teeth together as she whines. He slides his hand to keep it at the back of her neck, kissing her in the same way they had in the closet. There’s a pull at her wrist, and an arm snaking underneath her shoulder, and she finds herself being deposited onto his lap.

Oh, she’s missed this.

Sweet gooseberries. She can already feel how stiff he’s starting to get in these criminally low sweatpants of his— and she hasn’t even done anything besides kiss him a bit and just tell him how she really feels. The man underneath her is honest, and never would be able to lie to her about his feelings— he really is enjoying this.

She wants him to enjoy everything.

Everything.

“What kind of hurt are you into, Mousinette?” He hums. His voice feels like pure ecstasy in her veins as he rumbles out his words, and she nearly loses feeling in the very same legs that prop her up when gives her a swat on her ass, causing her to gasp. The impact is lessened by the properties of her hexleather— but it’s enough to make her face flush and lashes flutter. “Oh. Oh. So you mean that kind?”

“Luka—”

“You’ve never done anything and yet you already know that you like getting spanked. Incredible, little mouse— do you practice on yourself with the things you like?”

She nods. “I’ve only been able to— to try out things on myself, but, yes— I know a lot about what I like— and— and don’t, by trial and— error—”

“Fuck that’s hot. Just how far do your fantasies go, I wonder?” He laughs. “Tell me, please. I want to know all of it— you know, I never got to hear what you think about when you’re fingering yourself— even though you promised.”

“I did. You’re right— I really did. But maybe later, we have other things to do—” She tries kissing him again, but he tilts his head enough so that she ends up kissing the corner of his mouth, and she whines. “Luka, please— I want—”

“I can’t do what you want if you don’t tell me what it is,” He mouths against her jaw. “Please tell me. What was the last idea you fingered yourself to?”

“I thought about how I want you to pin me down—” Her breath hitches when he follows the curve of her spine with his fingers. “I thought about how I want— I need— you to bend me over— and— and take off my clothes— I can be totally naked for you and you can wear every single piece of clothing on you, I promise it’s okay— let me be yours, Luka—”

He hisses. “Shit, Mousey. Where do you want me to fuck you?”

“On your bed— your kitchen table—” She scrambles to come up with answers as he continues to move his fingers up and down her back, petting her so gently it almost feels like a tease. “Outside, too, o-on the— on the deck—”

“Oh, you liked the outside idea, didn’t you?”

“Yes— yes—”

“What do you want me to do to you?” At her whining and begging, he smiles at her with such gentility she feels like she’s melting. “Please. Please tell me.”

She whooshes air out of her lungs. “I want you to finger me like you said you would— finger me until I come three times.”

“Four, Mousey.” He amends. “I won’t be satisfied until you’re gushing all over my fingers. I’ll make a fucking mess out of you.”

“F-four.” She parrots, feeling her eyesight go hazy at the idea. She hears her tail hit something— probably the side of his bed— but she can’t focus enough to pay attention to it. “Eat— eat me out, too. Please. Uhm. M-maybe finger me and— and maybe suck my— my clit at the same time.”

She has to pause so that he can kiss her, coaxing her tongue into his mouth. He sucks on her tongue like he’s trying to prove something to her— she’s not sure what— but regardless of whatever it is, it’s enough for her to whine and pant, gripping his wet strands of hair between her fingers to stop herself from rubbing herself all over his chest and abs.

“You’d do this all outside on the deck of the Liberty?” He hums when he breaks away, licking the bridge of saliva that formed between their mouths.

“More than just that, but, yes—”

He gives a noise of approval that makes her wetter. “What do you think Paris would say if they ever caught a glance of Viperion breeding Multimouse on rooftops across the city, or finding out that you beg for it and don’t stop begging until you’re satisfied? Do you think they would be upset with you because you weren’t behaving like the proper princess everyone thinks you are?”

She wants it. She wants it so badly. The idea is so tantalizing that she can feel that low buzz of an incoming dry-orgasm, never even touched— never even fingered. Oh, how this man is everything she’s ever wanted. Just being able to sit in his lap is enough to get her to want to stain her suit.

“I don’t care,” She breathes, and she really does shift, then, her knees not being able to handle holding her up in any way any longer. She sits on his thighs, her legs spread wide so that they can go over his— everything about him is massive and so much bigger than her. “Anywhere— anywhere you decide on taking me, Luka— I want to do it anywhere you want to, I don’t care if people find out that I’m not their sweetheart— that I’m not their sweet little angel saving the city—”

“Oh, you’re all of that for sure— you just happen to be one horny little mouse, too.” He laughs against her mouth when she moans and grinds her sex against one of his thighs like she knows how to do. Sparks of color bleed against the back of her lids as she chases the orgasm that continues to build and build and build.

He shifts his leg, giving her a better angle. There’s a gasp trying to spill out of her mouth— heat curling between her legs as she continues to rub herself almost painfully hard on the thick muscle that makes up his thigh— trying not to exhaust herself as she rubs and rubs and rubs and— “Luka? Please?”

“Are you asking me permission to come?” He says it like he doesn’t believe her, looking at her with almost an awed look to his face.

“Please,” She repeats, nodding her head hard enough for it to hurt.

“Alright,” He whispers. “You can do it. Come for me without me even touching you— go on.”

She does.

He tightens his grip on her waist and the curve of her spine as she places her forehead down on his shoulder, riding wave after wave of heat that washes over her. Her legs feel like liquid— the space between her thighs even more so. She’s completely and totally doused in a fever that almost makes it claustrophobic to stay in her suit.

“That’s it,” He kisses her ear— her temple— whatever’s closest to him on the side of her face. “Good job, Mousinette. Very good job. You did so well—”

“Luka—” She sighs, trying not to accidentally crush the charms on his necklaces with her fist as she grips them with a hand, trying to get her strength back. “Luka, I want more.”

There’s a bit of an edge to his voice, “Oh, do you? Are you unsatisfied?”

“No— not unsatisfied— I want more. I just want you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” He laughs. His voice feels like satin on her sensitive skin. “Not that watching you wasn’t good— I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sit in this chair ever again without thinking of you fucking my leg. That was fucking hot, Mousey.”

“Sorry—” She doesn’t really mean it, feeling like she’s on the edge of her seat, even as her body continues to slow down and fill her with good emotions, making her feel as viscous as honey as she curls in his lap. “I’m so sorry— I just— I need— more— Luka— one isn’t enough— I need you—”

“Detransform for me so we can do exactly that, Mousey.” His eyes look dark, pupils blown wide open as he smiles. “Let me fuck you.”

She’s never nodded harder in her life. She calls off her transformation, the necklace that rests on her chest glowing before unleashing her kwami. Mullo blinks wide at the sight of the two of them in an obviously precarious position— the little mouse kwami grinning wide as the suit is done unstitching from Marinette’s body, leaving her in her clothes she wore before leaving her house, her hair falling against her ears and down her back. “You confessed? You confessed! You actually did it!”

“Lolo—” She mumbles into Luka’s collarbone, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. “Come on. Don’t embarrass me.”

“Oh— but— I’m so happy, Princess! I can’t believe you did it! You spent so long freaking out in your room I thought I was going to have to force a transformation on you!”

“Lolo!”

“Hi, Mullo. Sass is upstairs, I think, probably near the sails.” Luka grins, cutting Marinette off with a hand to her mouth before she can continue responding. She squeaks behind his hand— how the rings on his hands feel cold against her skin. “No doubt trying to cover his ears from the noise.”

“A sensitive one to sound, isn’t he?” Mullo winks, giggling behind her paws. “Well, well, you know what to call out if you need us! Try not to be too loud for Sass’s sake, okay?”

Luka makes her lean back from his lap when Mullo disappears through the ceiling. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She whispers back, muffled by the hand that covers her giggles.

“So. You really are the girl of my dreams and fantasies, huh?” There’s a tilt to his head as he says it, looking her over appreciatively. “Give me a second to look at you— I can’t believe I missed all the obvious signs of you being the girl I love.”

Something flatlines in her head. “D-dreams?”

“And fantasies,” He adds, shifting her in his lap with a laugh. “Come on, little mouse. You already know that. You can definitely feel it, too. I’m not lying when I said all I can think about is fucking you.”

“I— I know. I did just spend— I totally just grinded on you until I came, but I mean— it’s— it’s a little harder to believe— when I’m not—” She’s blushing, finally able to feel just how exactly stiff he is in his pants— she cuts herself off with a needy whine. “Oh, gooseberries, I’m sorry, Luka— you know I stutter a lot when I’m very shy.”

He kisses his palm over where her mouth is. “It’s okay. You’re doing okay— great, actually. There’s nothing to be shy or afraid of, Mousinette, even if you’re willingly walking into a snake’s den while being this cute.”

She giggles.

“You really do need to get out of your boat more often, Luka,” She pouts behind his hand. “You’re going to spend so much time on this boat that you’re going to end up landsick if you ever get off of it.”

His eyes drop to her shirt, a teasing look on his face. “Well, if that was your goal for tonight, I’m sorry— I have other plans involving you. You smell so good— are you wearing the perfume that I said I liked on you?”

“I might be.” An impulse buy for sure at the makeup store, but worth every single cent with the way he looks at her now. Ever since she’d worn it that first time and Luka had complimented it in passing when hauling a subwoofer the size of Rose’s full height outside to the deck of the Liberty, she’d known that she’d wear it every day of her life if it meant to get him to look at her for even a smidge longer. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did. You always smell expensive when you have it on— you went stiff as a board the first time I complimented you. I thought I broke you, and I didn’t get why Jules just kept laughing when you ran off to go help Kagami with the banner— I understand why now.” He laughs. “So, what are you wearing, then? If you went through the hassle of smelling good…”

It’s a shame he can’t see the smile she gives him, a shy and teasing quirk of her lips. “Just my pajamas.”

“Uh huh. I don’t believe you, you’ve got something up your sleeve, I know that look in your eye. Show me what you’re wearing,” He doesn’t pull his hand away from her mouth, and quirks his lips to produce yet another boyish smile when she kisses his palm. “It doesn’t look like you’re wearing anything under that shirt, little mouse.”

“I have something under it,” She mumbles under his palm, but it doesn’t come across well enough.

He takes in the wide shoulders of her shirt— how she’s absolutely swimming in the sleeves that end up at her elbows. She can tell the moment he recognizes the band shirt’s logo on her shirt— a fun and edgy screen-printed design with neon blues and neon pinks with the word kitty section below a logo— because his breath stops.

“Oh, shit—” He uses his free hand to hold her at the rib cage, pressing his thumb inwards, presumably trying to find the band of her bra that she’s potentially wearing— he almost seems to relax when his fingertips finds the wire. “Marinette, I like this.”

She preens under his words, sitting in his lap at a better angle to let him continue petting her heavily under her bust, thumbing at the wire under her breasts. “Oh. Do you really?”

“Fuck— I can’t believe this— this is such a turn-on. As if I needed to get any harder. Whose shirt is this?”

“I don’t know,” She tries to stay still in his lap to no avail when he moves his palm so that he can pet at her lips with a thumb. She melts in his touch, how each touch feels like heaven and soft. “It was one of the leftovers of the first batch we made, I’m pretty sure. I’ve kept it for years.”

“Really?”

“I like sleeping with it,” She tilts her head to the side, letting her hair fall behind her shoulder. The shirt is soft— comfortable— it’s gotten a very lived-in feel to the fabric after the long years of gentle care. She hand washes it to make sure that none of the colors chip away. “Makes me feel comfortable, thinking I’m with you. I— uhm— I—”

“Don’t hesitate, little mouse,” He smiles easy. “You’ve been doing so well already.”

“E-ever since I found it, I’ve been pretending it’s yours,” She tries not to steam red at her confession. She’s grinded on him in a closet, grinded on his leg mere minutes ago, begged for him to fuck her— and yet she still feels embarassed to admit this, too?

Well, to be fair, it is his band’s shirt. After all, what kind of a— best friend? Lover? Budding-relationship partner?— is she, if she doesn’t support his band with all their friends? Even if she didn’t have any romantic or sexual feelings for the man who continues to blink wide at the sight of her in the shirt, she’d still keep the merchandise for sentimental values. It’s one of the few originals— a homemade shirt that they had bought in a batch so that they could at least have merch to sell.

Every time they leave for a tour, now that they’re much better in terms of fame, she keeps it close to her. She nuzzles into the fabric, dreaming that it’s actually him in her arms and him in her cunt as she masturbates to the thought of him, wishing she was in his hotel room across the hall instead of hers.

His face turns pink. “Have you?”

She blinks at the way he seems to turn pinker and pinker the more he continues to look at her. Is that— is he blushing from the idea of her wearing his clothes? “Uhm— I— I mean I obviously don’t have any of your shirts for real, but, it’s nice to pretend—”

“You now have free reign of my closet whenever and wherever.” He almost twitches underneath her. “Please wear my actual shirts anytime you want, little mouse, holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. I’ll start begging if you need convincing— god.”

“Y-you don’t need to do that.” She laughs.

His smile curls dark. “You’re right. Your begging is much prettier than mine.”

She nearly jumps when his hand at the top of her shirt smoothes down her spine, teasing the hem of the shirt, making her shiver from how gentle he is. “I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear.”

“What’s underneath?” He asks, his eyes glittering with a tease that she can read he’ll come back to her request later. “Do you want to show me?”

She nods, giving his thumb a kiss. “Maybe just a peek. I h-have something I want to do, too— i-if you’re interested?”

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | You Are Here! | Chapter Three Link

#lukanette #fragileizyfic #fragileizyoneshot #vipermouse

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buckmepapi · 2 years

Note

I’m sorry to bother you with this but I have a personal issue and I literally have nobody else to talk to about it.

My circle of friends is tight-knit like the 7 of us have been friends for 10 years but I have this friend that is in the group who I have been friends with for the past 18 years and I would have considered her my best friend let’s call her Jane. Lately I’ve been growing as a person - stated doing more things for myself - saying no - honestly just been feeling myself recently.

We went out recently, all of use went out because Jane came home from being across the country for Uni. While Jane has been gone I’ve gotten closer with another friend of mine to the point where we see each other every day. We’ll call her Alex.

So Alex and I meet Jane for lunch the day before we go out. Things are going great we’re catching up swapping stories. Then I notice Jane is cutting me off every time I try mention a day out me and Alex has had. Alex noticed too and she gives me this look that basically just says. W.T.F.

Don’t get me wrong it must be difficult for Jane to leave all us behind and go off to Uni on her own but - that was her choice so?

So the night out happens. I’m looking good. Eyebrows - twins. Eyeliner - winged. Boobs - on show and I’m feeling it, I’m flirting, dancing just having a great time. The night starts to wined down, we’re just sitting around a booth drinking when this guy who I have been talking on and off with comes up to me.

We chat, he goes in for the kiss and well it was steamy. I’m normally a reserved person in that area but the gin was making me want to sin.

So yada yada friends decide it’s time to go - I part ways with hot guy because they were my ride home and night ends. In my eyes it was a pretty perfect night.

Next morning. Alex comes to my house with a hangover cure like the god she is. We recollect on the night from before. I said it was nice to get chatting with Jane again. Alex gives me this look.

So Jane was apparently making snide remarks behind my back all night. Not just Alex is saying this. The others heard it too

“Who does she think she is? She’s not this confident it’s so fake. How has she kissed some tonight and I haven’t?” I was oblivious but it’s making me think back to when her and I were joined at the hip and I was constantly in her shadow.

She’s been back to Uni a month now. She’s messaged me back twice. All attempts at this friendship is completely one sided from my side.

It’s 18 years of life together, we met when we were 4. Practically lived at each others houses every weekend/holiday. I feel childish evening writing a message like this at 22 years old but everyone I know loves and adores Jane minus a few mishaps within the friend group.

Should I just quit trying with this friendship? It’s completely one sided and seemingly growing more toxic the longer we’re apart and the more I change

First of all, it’s good that your friend ‘Alex’ noticed, as it really reaffirms that you know this off feeling with the friendship is noticed by someone else not just you.

It might have been that ‘Jane’ was a good friend all those years ago, or perhaps she’s always been this way and you’ve only noticed yourself now that you’ve become more assertive and have started to reflect and grow into something that she feels threatened by.

Do you think she was always this way or do you think this is a new development?

If you find yourself wondering if you should cut someone off because you don’t feel they’re not good for you or your mental health, then that really is a sign that they are indeed not good for you and that you probably should cut them off.

A true friend wouldn’t feel the need to make snide remarks behind your back to your other friends, she honestly seems like she’s jealous of you, either jealous of your physical appearance or your confidence and maturity now that you’ve developed into something more positive mentally and emotionally. If a friend ever makes snide remarks behind your back they’re not a friend. There’s no excuse for it. Friends don’t do that.

Ask yourself, do you treat your friends that way? Do you make people feel uncomfortable with your presence? Do you have a weird threatening argumentative aura, do you purposefully talk over others, give people dirty looks, talk about people behind their backs in a judgemental snarky way? No? So why should you tolerate it being done to you?

Regardless of how long you’ve known her, we all change and some people unfortunately do not change for the better. It is sweet that you feel a sense of loyalty to her to make you want to stay being friends, but would she stick around for you if given the chance to drop you from her circle of friends? Probably not.

Alex seems like a genuinely good friend. I would confide in her as well and ask her her opinion — if she’s anything like, me she’ll tell you the exact same thing I have.

Ultimately the choice is yours, but don’t sacrifice your growth and mental and emotional well being for someone else, especially not for someone who would not do the same for you.

#𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓻 ╰✧#♡ — ❛❛ // anon #answered #advice #buckmepapi #k;

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siriuslystargazing · 4 years

Text

I new I could count on you

Request: hiii, I see your request are open and I was hoping for a sirius x reader based in book 5, the time when Molly and Sirius have an argument and reader steps up for Sirius? thank you!

A/N: Yess oo this is going to be good !! i feels right to be back in the grove again no Uni work to worry about so lets get this ball rolling :) quick disclaimer, my spelling is bad i have dylexcia sorry but hopefully its not that bad... i havent read the books in a few years but hope you like it :))

Summary: after all this time sirius can always count on you to back him.

Grimmauld palace was far from a palace to Sirius, he saw this place as more a prison than anything, no matter how much Molly cleanend the walls always seemd to hold the memories and dirty secrets that the black family held. The newest secret the walls held were the wearabouts of Harry Potter, Harry was relived to finally leave his tiny room at 4 private drive much be his new room was a somewhat dusty upgrade but he could live with it he was finally with his family again. but the reunion had to wait a while as the Order meeting was getting a little intense in the kitchen “Well Well Well” George Weasly Started “if it isnt Harry” Fred followed “want to know whats happening down stairs then?” the twins quized smirking bettween themselves

“i have a feeling your going to do whatever it is wether or not i agree” Harry replied, the twins shared a look and nodded Harry smiled and followed the weaslys to the stairs

“surly we shouldnt be doing this we’re not in there for a reason” hermionie stressed watching the twins lower the ear down listing on to the convosation...

in the Kitchen the table played host to a mix of wizards and witches, Sirius sat inbeteewn Remus and Y/N with Molly oppersit all four of them in a heated debate over harry “ Molly, Harry has a right to know about what is happening, if it wasnt for him we wouldnt know that Voldamort was back! he isnt a child molly ” Sirus started earning a frustrated huff “but he isnt an Adult either, he is not James-” Y/N flinched at the name sirius took note and placed his hand in hers giving a reasuring squeez “-He is not your Son! Molly!-”Y/N began “ Harry is our Godson we have a duty of care for him -”

“Oh please Y/N ! where have you two been for the past 12 years, one of you was rotting in Azkaban and you were galavanting across Asia”

“shut up you slimey Git thats my Wife your talking to!” sirius shot from his seat slaming his palms on the table silencing Snape.

“oh Enough of this the lot of you, i say we leave the meeting here and get dinner on” Molly disbanded the meeting opening the kitchen door and calling everyone down for dinner,

“Harry Potter!” sirius Greeted embracing the teen in a tight hug “i have someone very imortant here for you to meet” pulling away and waving Y/N over to them

“Hello Bambi” Y/N started, Tears pricked at her eyes as she took in the teen before her, he really was a spitting image of James “im Y/N, Your Godmother, i want to apologise for not being in your life i was told you died that night and well...” Y/N trailed off but was embraced in hug from Harry “its okay Y/N its nice to finally meet you Remus and Sirus told me so much about you !”

“not to cut the reunion short my love but i belive Molly is ready to plate up dinner”

“oh yes of course!”

Each sat at the table Whilst molly continued to cut vegetables as Arther informed HArry on his Hearing at the Ministry “this is very peculiar Harry, your hearing at the ministry is to be infront of, well the enitre Wizard front..”

“but i dont understand what has the Ministry got against me ?”

“Show him” Moody Grunted from the Shadows “he will find out soon enough beter to just show him now” more looks were exchanged at the table until Kingsly grabed a copy of the profit showing Harry the headline, sirius sighed “dont worry they have been attacking Dumbledor aswell”

“we belive Fudge is using his influence and power over at the profit to discourage the rumors of Voldemorts return, and he is deluded, fudge thinks Dumbledor is after his job!” Y/N continued

“but thats insane No one would-” “Thats exactly the point Harry! Fudge isnt in his right mind, its been twisted by fear, and the last time Voldamort gained this much power, he nearly destroyed everything we hold dear to us” Remus cut in looking towards Y/N and Sirius with a small smile “and the minister we will do anything in his power to avoid that truth”

Sirius and Y/N looked at eachother for a moment Nodding in silent agreement “We think, he wants to build up his army again..14 years ago he had a huge following not just witches and Wizards but other dark creatures and he has started up again, the order have done the same but gathering followers isnt the only thing hes interested in... we belive Voldamort is after somthing” The sound of mollys chopping grinded to a halt “Sirius” Moody warned but Sirius ingnored and continued “Somthing he didnt have Last time-”

“No! thats Enough, he. is. Jusy. a. BOY!” Molly orderd her Knife claterted to the table as she rushed to Harrys side “you say much more and you might as well induct him into the order”

“great i’d love to Join” HArry Protested “if Voldamort is raising an army i want to be a ble to fight” Sirius didnt reply but gave molly a look and clapped

“he has a point” Y/N spoke her voice quite, sirius gave harry a wink “Excuse me!”

“Molly, Harry has a right to know and its Sirius and my duty to inform him of what is happening, you cant shield him away from this its his life, he might not have asked for it but we cant keep him hidden from the inevitable, and last time i checked and i did in asia you can’t change a profacy like this its self fufiling no matter how hard you try it will happen, all we can do is support him and help him.” the table was silent apart from a small wimper form Ron as he noticed his Mothers look

“But he is just a Boy Y/N, What would James and Lily think? why on earth they made you two his Godparents is beyond me? both of you are reckless, young and have no -”

“HOW DARE YOU QUESTION THEM! THEY TRUSTED US FOR A REASON, MAYBE IF YOU NEW THEM THE WAY WE DID YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND BUT YOU DONT MOLLY! everything i have done was for Harry, for them, they asked me to figure out a way to save Harry and i did i travled across the world to find a way to save him, so dont you ever question my husband or my friends actions” Y/N argued, everthing she did for the past 14 years was to find a way to save harry, Lily asked her to do it, Lily trusted Y/N like James trusted Sirius.

Molly was shocked she hadnt known much of the witch before her, only that she was a well known unspeakable, at every meeting she was quite always sat between Sirius and Remus not say much, but tonight she new that Y/N was hot headed and would do anything to protect her frends and family she sighed and went back to the cooking, Remus let out a low laugh “you always were a hot head and you still are, trust me harry dont ever get on her bad side, that isnt the worst she can do”

“oi, Thats my loving wife!” sirius smirked pulling Y/N kissing her temple “I new i can count on you, at least you didnt set the curtains on fire this time”

“Dont push it fleabag” Y/N smirked, sending an apologentic smile to Molly across the Table “setting curtains on fire?”

“It was summer 1976...”

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #hp ootp #harry potter #older sirius x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black #hp fanfiction #marauders #sirius x reader #padfoot #remus lupin #order of the phoenix

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acoupleofbravedorks · 4 years

Text

Through Thick and Thin

Hey yall! Heard about @shipmistress9‘s Hiccstrid week 2020 celebration, and I wanted to take part in it. I’m writing up a few things I hope will be done in the next couple days, buuuut I had this rather fluffy commission laying about involving a set up I haven’t seen played around with much in the fandom.

I will note that this is not my work, and that the author is fine with this being released, but wishes to remain anonymous. I hope yall like it as much as I did!

Hiccup meandered along the street, heading nowhere in particular but feeling the need to get out of the house. Typical, his first proper day off work in weeks and he'd woken up too damn early, and then got bored trying to stay indoors and relax. Still, at least it was a nice day out, sun shining but just enough breeze to stop it being sweaty and stifling.

He was just debating heading to the shop for nothing in particular other than a distraction from boredom, when a big shadow fell across his path.

"Hiccup Haddock, is that you?"

Confused, Hiccup looked up from the ground to the source of the voice. His eyes found a very curvy lady, with round cheeks and thick thighs and a soft, round belly resting beneath an ample chest. Realising he was probably staring a bit too low, he lifted his eyes up to her face.

There was something familiar in the blonde hair, the round freckled cheeks and blue eyes...

"Astrid?!"

She'd been his best friend when they were kids, spending endless hours together talking about dragons. Astrid used to chase him with an axe if he bugged her, but it always ended in forgiving cuddles and childish giggles. Then her parents had a very, very messy divorce, and Astrid was whisked away to live with her grandmother to keep her out of it. They'd meant to stay in touch, but they were only kids and it wasn't easy. He lost her grandmothers address when his own parents split, the bit of paper with it written down obviously stolen by mountain trolls when packing up to move out.

Of course, Astrid had been a lanky, skinny child back then, shooting up in height before most of their classmates and charging around so much she obviously burned off a lot of energy.

Now, lanky and skinny were definitely not words he could use to describe her. She seemed to follow his thoughts despite him not voicing them, reaching up to pat her big belly with a laugh. Her smile hadn't changed, completely and utterly her.

"Yeah, I gained quite a few pounds over the years. Grandma's cooking and a lot of lazy food in college, yanno?"

He shrugged, smiling, awash with fond nostalgia for his oldest friend.

"No, no, you look great. It's so good to see you!"

They hugged, her body soft against his but the strength she held him with was surprising, reminding him of how she could easily crush him when they were kids with her super-strength.

"Great to see you too. I barely recognised you, you actually learned to do your hair. And you're so tall!"

"Yeah, puberty hit me like a ton of bricks, as I've been told. And I had to learn to do my hair, else I get awful helmet hair when I'm out on my bike."

"Finally got your wheels?"

She obviously remembered him fawning over motorcycles in his dads mechanic-themed magazines as a kid, always insisting he'd be riding one as soon as possible.

"Yep! So... what are you doing here? Are you around for long? Want to go somewhere and catch up?"

He realised he was talking kind of quickly, still buzzing with the pleasant surprise of seeing her again. Astrid nodded, beaming.

"Sounds good!"

As they walked, Astrid informed him she'd just moved back to the area when her job got transferred there.

"What do you do?"

"Just some machine assembly work. Not exciting, but pays the bills and it fit around classes when I was at uni. And, to everyones surprise, I'm not phased by trudging around on my feet all day on the factory floor. What about you?"

"Garage, obviously. Up to my elbows in grease and metal all day every day."

Astrid smiled.

"You must be thrilled!"

Hiccup nodded, grinning.

"Yeah. So, where are we going again?"

"Little place I like. Good food and sturdy furniture."

She wasn't kidding - Hiccup didn't actually fill the chair, and it definitely felt strong under him as he perched, watching Astrid scour the menu and exchanging friendly greetings with the staff.

"You brought a date! Sarah, come see this!"

"He's not my date, you mad woman. Just a friend. Hiccup, please ignore her."

Feeling his cheeks flush slightly, he laughed it off.

"Oooh, with a smile like that he'll be snapped up if you won't have him Astrid!"

Blinking in surprise, Hiccup watched as Astrid shooed off the waitress with demands for chocolate milkshake while they looked at the food options.

"Sorry. They're a little too friendly sometimes. I think I keep them afloat with how much I eat here."

She giggled as she said it, humming before smiling over the top of the little paper foldout at Hiccup. He smiled back.

"It's fine. So, what's good here then, if you know them so well?"

"Oh, everything. But if I remember rightly, you like your food meaty, so I'd go with the steak burger. And if you ask nicely, they put a scoop of ice cream in your milkshake."

Trusting Astrid's judgement - and it did sound delicious - Hiccup ordered what she recommended, and was very pleased by how tasty it was. Astrid had the same, plus some kind of cheese-fries mountain on the side. They chatted between bites, catching up on all the years gone by since they lost touch, whiling away well over an hour there before Astrid frowned at her phone, then looked up at him.

"Sorry, I gotta go, work needs me in. We should do this again soon, now I'm back down here."

"Yeah, sounds great."

They traded numbers, paid and tipped the servers and hugged goodbye outside. Hiccup found himself smiling, warmed and happy about Astrid being back in his life already. He continued on to the shop, pleasantly full of food as he pottered about the aisles, picking up a few things and heading home afterwards.

Astrid texted him that evening when she got off work, and the two quickly compared schedules so they could hang out again soon by phone call.

"If you tell me what you like eating, I'll cook you dinner one of the days."

Hiccup offered, hearing the smile in her voice when he offered.

"Ah, you already know the way to my heart!"

"Well, you said you ate a lot of 'lazy food', I thought home cooked might be a nice change for you."

"Hey, I'm not complaining!"

After forgetting to give her his address on the phone and hastily texting it to her the next day, Hiccup got to planning and prepping, ready to cook. Her hearty appetite was a bonus to him - he loved cooking, and was pretty used to cooking for his dad and uncle Gobber, so big portions came rather naturally. When he visited his mom, she often reminded him neither of them could put away as much food, and there were always leftovers.

He opened the door at her punctual knock, Astrid beaming as she stood in his doorway.

"Come on in."

"Ooooh, your place smells amazing!"

"That'll be dinner. Unless it's me. I did shower today."

She snorted, shaking her head at his feigned bragging.

"Oh, you haven't changed."

It was like no time at all had passed, the two reconnecting easily, having each other in fits of laughter. Astrid still shoved him playfully, though it had a bit more force to it now than when they were kids. They reminisced over childhood TV favourites, and got a little tipsy on the wine Astrid brought over to accompany dinner.

"Ah, I missed you so much!"

Astrid threw her thick arm around him, squeezing Hiccup to her side. Chuckling, he hugged her back.

"I missed you too!"

He offered to let Astrid stay the night (platonically!), but she declined and so he saw her in to a taxi that evening after plates were clean and they'd arranged another meet-up. She pecked a kiss on his cheek with a smile before climbing in to the car, Hiccup watching her go and feeling genuinely sad to see her go. Their friendship had awakened effortlessly, and there were years to catch up on.

It was a couple of days before they got to see each other again, but they chatted over the phone and put on the same terrible TV shows so they could rag on them together, which Hiccup found absolutely hilarious.

At first, Astrid's weight gain didn't really... come up. She was still Astrid. There was just... more Astrid.

But when they were both off work and the weather was nice, Hiccup suggested a picnic. Others obviously had the same idea, so there were quite a few people out in the field. Hiccup put an old throw down for them to sit on, Astrid joking she'd need help getting back up as she sat down, mid-thigh shorts straining slightly as she got comfortable.

Some rude passerby made a rude comment about her size, and Hiccup found himself incredibly annoyed. Astrid barely seemed to notice, at least until she looked up with a glare that could curdle milk.

"I can lose weight. You'll always be an asshole, and I don't remember asking for your opinion. Now go away."

The guy recoiled, then looked over at Hiccup. Hiccup was, incidentally, holding a knife. It was for cheese, but it seemed to look threatening enough that the rude stranger decided not to continue digging themselves into a hole and left.

"Are you ok?"

"Me? I'm fine. It happens, and hey, they can go home to a salad while I have a heaping pile of lasagna. Guess which of us is happier for dinner?"

She was smiling, but Hiccup still shuffled over and gave her a hug. Astrid let him, then nudged him and nodded at his bag.

"Food?"

"Sure."

They ate and chatted and lounged in the sun, Astrid looking pretty and at ease as she laid back on the throw and closed her eyes, soaking up the sunshine that hit her skin. After a little while, she cracked an eye open, peering up at him.

"Are you watching me?"

"Not intentionally. I'm debating if it's too bright to get my sketchpad out, and your top is white so it's a good point of reference."

She rolled her eyes, then went back to sunbathing. Hiccup did get the sketchpad out, doodling the nearby scenery - there was a river a little ways away, with some rocks and trees littering the banks.

"You were always scribbling when we were little too."

"I like drawing. It was something me and mom did together a lot, so I guess it's a lot of happy memories. Oh, by the way, mom wants to see you soon!"

"She does?"

Hiccup nodded.

"Yeah. I mentioned you'd moved back down this way and she was thrilled, asked when I was bringing you over."

Astrid smiled.

"I did always like Valka. How is she doing?"

"See for yourself, next time you're free I can invite her over to come for dinner?"

For a minute, Astrid looked oddly... nervous.

"Is that wise?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is she gonna go all 'should you be eating that' or sly digs about my weight?"

Hiccup raised an eyebrow, bemused.

"You do remember the size of my dad, right? Mom's not gonna care in the slightest. She'll probably laugh and say I found someone who's appetite matches my cooking portions."

Finally, Astrid smiled again. Eventually, they agreed to go, and Hiccup managed to help Astrid back to her feet, taking a leisurely walk along the path to get out of the park before school let out and the place was flooded with children itching for freedom.

The only flaw in the walk was the rather aggressive wasp that chased Hiccup, but he managed to lose it eventually while Astrid very unhelpfully roared with laughter.

"I think he liked you."

"I think he wanted the leftover juice in my bag."

Feeling that usual contentment that spending time with Astrid gave him, Hiccup was sad to see her go, but she did agree to the dinner with his mom. Hiccup relayed that information to Valka, who was thrilled and giddy about it. He did give her advance information that there was quite a bit more of Astrid than before, so that she was prepared and wouldn't make Astrid feel uncomfortable. His mother, as Hiccup predicted, was not phased in the slightest.

Valka arrived first, hugging Hiccup tightly and ruffling his hair as she asked about the minute amount of things that had happened since they last saw each other and he shooed her away from the kitchen side.

"You're a hazard!"

She tsked, then leapt excitedly when the door knocked again.

"Astrid!"

"Oh my gods, Valka! I swear, you haven't aged a day!"

Well, those two were getting on like a house on fire in seconds, Hiccup smiling to himself all the while as Astrid headed over to hug him in greeting. She looked very nice that day - not that she didn't always, really - in a brown skirt and blue shirt, placing a bottle of wine to contribute to dinner on the side before she went back to chatting with Hiccup's mother.

The evening went absolutely wonderfully, conversation flowing easily. Of course, his mother did her best to fill Astrid in on all the embarrassing moments that happened while she was away, Hiccup's awkward teen years out in the open and Astrid fell about laughing while Hiccup pouted. He couldn't stay mad about how happy the atmosphere was though, and after walking Astrid down to her taxi, he returned to his mother who was loading the dishwasher for him (one of his little weaknesses, because he cooked so much).

"Did you have fun tonight mom?"

"It was wonderful! And I'm so happy you two reconnected, that you've found someone t-"

Wait, wait. Hiccup realised his mother had gotten the wrong idea somewhere along the lines.

"Whoa, mom. Slow down. It's not like that."

She stopped, blinking.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean, Astrid's great and it's amazing having her around again, but we're just friends."

Somehow, she did not look convinced.

"Really?"

"What do you mean, really?"

His mother shrugged, knowing look on her face as she checked the side and closed the dishwasher.

"Nothing, nothing. I just... you seem very cosy, that's all. And I see the way you smile at her. I just thought you seemed rather smitten."

Now it was Hiccup's turn to blink, confused.

"I... what? No. I'm not smitten."

"If you say so son. I should get going, I have work tomorrow."

She hugged her son and kissed his hair, all while Hiccup was still sorting through his thoughts somewhat. He hadn't really thought about whether or not he was attracted to Astrid. She was Astrid. They were childhood best friends, and he'd assumed they'd just reverted to the same sort of relationship now. Simple, right?

And his mother thought they were actually dating. So... did that mean Astrid was giving off some kind of signal only moms could notice too?

No, that was ridiculous...

Right?

He scrubbed a hand across his face, drained the last bit of wine into a glass rather than bother storing what was barely a single serving. Then he sat down on the sofa and sighed, sipping slowly at the wine and absently picking at leftover dessert.

Hiccup was no closer to clarity the next day, a mild headache from either the wine or the constant thinking nagging him when he woke up. A couple of painkillers washed down with his morning coffee took that away though, leaving him to text Astrid and invite her over for movie night sometime soon. Plenty confused by his mothers words, Hiccup figured the best chance of clearing it all up in his head was to actually talk to Astrid.

They sat on his bed, a huge bowl of popcorn between them, and pizza delivery called for and due thirty minutes from then. Hiccup fiddled with a few bits of popcorn until they were crumbs, knowing he'd regret it later when he had to get all the crumbs out of his bed.

"Want to hear something funny?"

Astrid glanced over, raising popcorn to her mouth.

"Sure?"

Hiccup drank some water for his suddenly dry mouth.

"My mom thought I was introducing you to her as my girlfriend."

He watched for her response. Astrid crunched her popcorn a little more slowly, using her drink to clear the remnants from her mouth before she answered.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Started gushing about how happy she was I'd 'found someone'."

Astrid tsked, rolling her eyes.

"Like that's ever gonna happen."

Hiccup, still unsure until just then, realised he was disappointed by her dismissal.

"Wow, you are really rough on my ego."

She laughed, shaking her head.

"I didn't mean cus of anything about you! I just meant... come on, it's not like you're gonna be interested in me like that."

Hiccup frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She gave him an exasperated look.

"It means... I'm fine with how I look and all that, I could change it but yanno, I'm healthy enough and I can move around. But it's not... pretty."

Hiccup shook his head.

"That's really what you think?"

Astrid nodded, gave a non-commital shrug.

"It's the truth."

She reached for more popcorn. Hiccup moved the bowl, placing it aside so he could kneel up next to her without sending the kernels cascading everywhere. Astrid frowned.

"What?"

"I just... I don't like you putting yourself down. And... well... I think you're beautiful."

Astrid, normally so forward and confident, dropped her gaze from his, freckled cheeks flushing.

"Yeah. Sure."

"I'm serious!"

She turned back to look at him, expression unreadable.

Then she kissed him.

Hiccup wasn't expecting it, but it didn't take much time for his brain to catch up and respond in kind. They found themselves horizontal sooner rather than later, hands roaming and touching exploring over clothes. There was so much of Astrid to feel, after all, thick thighs he squeezed at gently, enthralled by the way Astrid gasped against his mouth.

She was soft and pliant everywhere his hands landed, from her plush hips to her juicy backside. Her hands made short work of him, sliding under his shirt to roam his bare skin beneath. Hiccup felt himself harden against her stomach, prominent and soft and warm as it pressed against him. He kept his own hands above clothes for the moment, though he let his hands roam a little over her chest, pleased when he was not rebuffed.

Surprising even himself a little bit, Hiccup let his hands wander down to her belly, rather transfixed by it now he had the free reign to be. He rubbed it, felt Astrid tense up slightly at his touch.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just... big."

"So?"

Hiccup continued to rub her belly, fingers finding bare skin where her shirt had rucked up with their squirming on his bed. There were bumps and ripples of stretch marks that he couldn't quite resist tracing, Astrid letting out a sound halfway to a giggle. He wriggled down, wanting Astrid to feel reassured, safe, desirable. Kisses dropped over the soft bump of her belly, and she actually giggled at the tickling of his hair when Hiccup wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her tummy properly.

"What are you doing?"

"Proving to you that you have nothing to worry about. Plus... I like it."

"Seriously?"

He nodded, smiling when Astrid relaxed. She urged him back up, but their kisses grew a little lazier, more relaxed when he moved, hands staying above the waist. Astrid played idly with his hair, which he found sweet enough that he smiled in to their kiss, Astrid returning it before they both dissolved in to giggles, breaking apart to catch their breath.

The timing was good, as the door knocked just then to announce the arrival of their pizza.

"Back in a minute. You want a plate or shall we eat out the box?"

"Well, there's fries and garlic bread too, so yeah, plates might be a good idea."

Hiccup nodded, pecking a kiss on Astrid's lips that brought another adorable smile to her face before he climbed off the bed reluctantly, exchanging money for tasty food. The delivery guy definitely gave Hiccup a "no way you'll eat all this" look, not matching the volume of food to Hiccup's narrow frame.

Stacking plates on the top of the pizza box, Hiccup headed back to where Astrid awaited him, cheeks still pink, eyes bright, clothes rumpled and he felt a little breathless for how gorgeous she really was.

"Can I interest you in dinner, milady?"

"Absolutely. Although, garlic bread seemed a better idea before there was kissing."

He chuckled.

"We'll both have bad breath. Alternatively, I have a spare toothbrush you can use."

They plated up, and after a little adjusting, Astrid leant herself against Hiccup with a soft sigh. He could only eat one handed, but that was a small price to pay. He rather liked the weight of her there. Astrid was harder to convince, eventually suggesting they swap places. Perching himself on her lap did have it's perks, like the feel of her soft thighs under him, her round belly against him, and he could feed her until she let out the sweetest little giggles.

"So..." Hiccup dared to venture the question when they'd finished eating, having lost all track of whatever film he'd put on earlier "what is this? What are we?"

Astrid hummed, wrapping a thick arm around him and Hiccup thrilled in the reassuring grip.

"Well... much as you will surely hate to admit it, I'd say you can tell your mom she was right after all."

As she kissed him again, both paying no mind to garlic breath, Hiccup found the prospect of having to tell his mother that wasn't so bad, since it meant Astrid was now his girlfriend.

#ooc #Astrid #Astrid Hofferson #Hiccup #Hiccstrid #Hiccstrid Week 2020 #commission #chubstrid #plumpstrid #iunno #just think the idea of her liks this is both cute and interesting

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imma-sucker-for-a-beard · 4 years

Text

>WHAT IS IT ABOUT BEARDS<

I finished the post and posted it on my blog, and sat there drinking my water, smiling to myself. I found my phone and found Chris’ number and texted him. ~Hi Daddy. Long time no see. I miss talking to you… and so much more. *Winking at you*~ I sent the text and a couple minutes later my phone started ringing and the caller ID said ‘Daddy Evans’ I smirked thinking to myself. It is going to be a long night and a loving sensitive beard burn in the morning. Taking the phone and spoke in a low lustful voice. “Hi daddy. I’ve missed you”. Character Paring: Chris Evans x Female Reader

Word Count: 2388

Warnings: Few swear words, slight smut, beard kink.

Requested by: @sweater-daddiesdumbdork - I would love a story where the reader appreciates the beard. Can be soft or smutty. Both, it’s up to you. And for one of the actors on your board. – I hope it lives up to what you were looking for. Love you always. <3

A/N: I wanted to try something different and write it sort of like an article or blog, mix with personal (Female Reader’s POV) experiences. So let’s see how it goes. Before starting this story I did a little research to see what the real picture is when it comes to the view on beards. For the article Read here, actually an interesting read. J Constructive feedback is always welcomed. To @ajs-playroom-you-may-enter, thank you for your quick read through. Love you always. <3

NOTE: This story will be written as a Blog post with flashbacks, there will be switched between them. It will be clearly shown: Blog will be written in block quote, and Flashback with the title “Flashback”. ~Text message~. Mentions of: Tom Hardy, Henry Cavill, Jason Momoa, Jamie Dornan.

Summary: your two friends are named Tris and Jess. Tris is a single, 33 years old that works as a gallery. Jess is a married, 35 years old woman that works part time as a hairdresser. Then there’s you. Single, your own age, a freelance blogger and your own personal real life job, if you have one. You, the female reader start thinking about what a beard means to society in general and to women. You think about your own experience and you start looking at some of your favorite men.

What is it about Beards???

Hi Lovelies, sorry for my absence. Life happened – you all know how it is. Anywho… I hope you all have been enjoy life and are in good health.

I want to share something with you all and hope you will leave your comments below, because I’m really curious about what you think. Now that all the formalities are done let’s start.

I was sitting with a couple of my girlfriends, (for the sake of their privacy I will give them other names), Tris she’s single like me, and Jess is married. We had started talking about men and beards and what it was about them that made them so damn sexy. Tris loves a good beard and Jess finds them gross and wouldn’t want her man to ever grow one. Personally I don’t understand why, but that’s her and her husband’s business. This got me thinking.

>>>WHAT IS IT ABOUT BEARDS<<<

When you think about it beards are a weird thing. It’s hair growing out of a man’s face. Then you look at it like that is can be kind of disgusting. Hair around a man’s mouth just the thought of it sound highly unhygienic. If a Woman finds a hair on her face that is out of place, she pulls it immediately, eye-brows aren’t supposed to be too thin or too wide, heaven forbid there’s hair between your brows at the risk of a uni-brow. The slightest hint of too long hair around a woman’s mouth and its gone, women almost franticly study their faces in the mirror every day to find and remove unwanted hair – But men – That’s a whole different story. A study shows that out of 2500 women over 60% of them prefer men with beards. That’s a high number. I have to be honest with you I’m among those 60% because COME ON – Beards are fucking sexy.. Pardon my French.

Sitting here writing an entry for my blog, I start thinking about what experiences I’ve had with men with beards vs. those without. There was a world of difference.

Flashback: It was back in late summer 2007, I was at a festival north of Boston with a couple of friends, Jess being one of them.. We had decided that everything was possible that week, since we were leaving after that week. The second evening we had been drinking heavily. Jess had seen a handful of guys standing to one side and nudged me. “Y/N, LOOK!” I had looked at the men. “Yeah? What about them?” I had asked until one of the men moved and I saw him. “Holy Fuck!! That’s Harvard Hottie!” Jess had nudged me several more times, first stopping when I nudged back harder. “HEY! WATCH IT!” she had exclaimed saving her drink. She had said it just loud enough for the men to look our way. I was looking straight into the eyes of Chris fucking Evans I thought I was going to faint. Quickly making my escape I went to get a drink. Waiting for the drink and when the bartender had pushed the drink to me and said what I had to pay, I watched a $20 bill slip over the counter. “I got this one.. I’ll have a beer as well, thanks” I didn’t need to see who it was. I knew that voice anywhere. “Hi. I’m Chris.” I had looked at him with the straw in my mouth and smiled accidently drooling when I spoke wetting my tank top. “I kno… Shit!!!” jumping back only spilling more of my drink over me. I had quickly put the drink down and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and pulled my tank out and away from my body turning beet red. Chris chuckled lightly but was quick on his hands and had pulled a lot of paper towels and acted on instinct and stuffed them down my top. “I hate when that happens” he had joked and we both laughed. Stepping away from me he had ordered a new drink. I had not been wearing any bra under my top and of very conscious of the fact that my breasts were visible through the fabric. “Here, let me help you” Chris had offered and we walked behind the trailer bar. He had shrugged his flannel of in his half drunken state. “You need something dry to wear” I had looked at him like I had seen a ghost. “You’re letting my wear your flannel!” “Yeah! We can’t have you getting sick.” I had just been standing there. “But… You’re Chris Evans!” He had laughed. “I know and you’re Y/N, or so I was told. Turn around.” I had done as he asked and had felt him move up behind me as he moved his hands to your waist grabbing the hem to pull my top off. His beard was tickling my skin and he made me giggle when he had sniffed my neck. “Mmm. Pineapple smells good on you.!” He had said pulling my top over my head. Dropping it to the ground and taken his flannel and wrapped it around me and buttoned it while resting his chin close to my neck. “I’m wondering if you taste like pineapple as well.” I had been just drunk enough to look at him on my shoulder. “Only one way to find out!” and he had taken the bait. I had turned around and stepped closer to him and cupped his face when he had wrapped his arms around my waist. Our lips found each other and we kissed softly at first, the kiss became deeper and more urgent. His beard scratching my lips and chin, our tongues meeting and we gave in to the pleasure of the moment.

I traced my lips remember the buzzing feeling that kiss had giving me.

Then we look at the different types of beards, there’s a wide range. The mustache with a whole range of look, then the Goatee with a few different looks as will. The five o’clock shadow aka THE SCRUFF now we’re getting somewhere. To run one’s hands, cheek or even lips over the scruff. The sensation of the scruff or a beard over one’s skin is to me one of the best feelings in the world. That was one of the things I talked with Tris and Jess about. Tris agreed completely whereas Jess made a face of disgust. Personally I think she doesn’t know what she’s missing. – But that’s just my personal opinion. What do you think? Let me know in the comments.

Flashback: After Chris and I shared that moment behind the bar trailer. Chris has picked up my tank and we went back together to the others and the moment Jess saw that I was wearing his flannel. She hooked her arm in mine and pulled me a little to the side. “Y/N what’s up with this picture?” I had chuckled and explained to the best of my drunken abilities, what had happened and she had laughed so hard that Chris and one of his friends looked over as us and Chris had given me a questioned looks, if everything was okay and I had given him a smile and a nod making him relax. Jess and I came back to the guys. One of the guys had moved up behind Jess and wrapped his arms around her waist and she had let him. (This was now her husband).

That night Jess had gone with the guy and that was the beginning of their long relationship. I had been standing alone watching one of the performers when Chris had come up to me and rested his head on my shoulder and I had rested my head against his. “Are you okay?” I had asked him and he had lifted his head again and sighed. “I’ve lost my sleeping arrangement!” I had looked at him completely lost. “Huh?” He gave his well-known chuckle. “Yes! I lost it…. To your friend! And since she took my spot it’s only fair that I take her spot.” Winking awkwardly at me and I giggled. “You’re cute. Who am I to deny you a place to sleep? Besides you’ll need your flannel back in the morning!” He flashed a smiled. “Nah you can keep it. But I’ll still need a place to sleep!” We had made our way to the tent, and when we had passed the tent where Chris was supposed to be sleeping it was clear by the sound of it that Jess was having the time of her life. Chris and I laughed as we made our way to my tent.

Inside the tent we got comfortable and talked for a while before Chris took a chance and leaned in kissing me softly at first, and slowly the kiss became deeper and more urgent. I pulled him down with me, Chris laying half on top of me. Chris ran his hands over my body and under my shirt and I gasped feeling his warm hand against my skin. I ran my hand over his body and caught the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and he helped getting it off. And my shirt followed suit soon we were both laying naked and Chris was kissing down me body his beard adding to the sensation. The moment he reached my mount I yelped and he giggled adding a teasing lick. I was about to sit up when he pushed me back down and positioned himself between my legs kissing up me inner thigh again his beard added to the pleasure. He had looked up at me from under his lashes as he had placed a kiss on my vulva before parting my labia in a long slow lick making me moan aloud. “Aaaaarh”. My moaning only coaxing him more. He had wrapped my legs over his shoulders as he had hungrily started to eat me out with licks, nibbles, sucking and biting, until I had begun trying to push him away but ended up with me grabbing a hold of the covers, screaming out my release, shaking uncontrollably as he prolonged my climax, topping it off with another climax.

Just remembering the sensation that I had that night, the beard burn had affected me for days made my squeeze my thighs together. And Chris had kept it burning deliciously, the burning also being added to my lips, neck, breasts, inner thighs. God I missed that.

I read that a man’s facial hair signals masculinity. And I couldn’t agree more… I also read that there’s somewhat of a hidden message in the length of a man’s beard. Stubs/Scruffs are for flings and a beard means relationship meaning the man is ready for commitment. I never thought of it having so much meaning, simply the length of it. That’s in my opinion pretty damn awesome. But I’m still and bit sceptic about it. Because some men prefer to have it at a max length and some men looks better with a specific length. Or is that just me? Let me know your thoughts.

Another I read is that women become even more turned on by beards what we are ovulating. Our biological urges lusts for the masculine man. Our primal cave woman has urges and hungers for the primal masculine hair cave man to claim us and breed us. Uuuh I get shivers just thinking about it. LOL... Am I the only one? Oh, and I personally love a man that has a perfect hairy chest..

Another thing is that apparently bearded men are supposedly better fathers as well, because they are better at sticking around to protect and invest time in their offspring. *points to what I wrote about stubs and beards* I’m not sure what I personally think about this, because there’s so many aspect that’s a part of this. Social environment, Family background and so much more not just the length of beards!

I’ve found a few handsome men that are in the public eye. Tom Hardy a.k.a James Delaney or Venom and Mr. Bad boy with a heart of gold, Chris Evans a.k.a Captain America, Ransom and My forever crush and Boo <3, Jason Momoa a.k.a Aquaman or Conan or Liquid God. lol , Henry Cavill a.k.a Superman or Geralt of Rivia and buns of steel. LMAO. Jamie Dornan a.k.a Christian Grey or The Huntsman or Mr. twitchy palm. ;)

When we look at these men, they all look handsome, no matter what but they have a preferred look. Tom, Jamie and Chris prefer to have a beard and preferably the length as in the pictures and personally I won’t object. Jason told in an interview that his wife told him that if his ever shaved his beard again (bottom picture), then she would divorce him, he did it for charity but he also said that he felt naked. He truly looks the best with his trimmed caveman beard. Now Mr. Cavill. Looks amazing with a trimmed beard or a scruff. But he himself prefer to be clean shaven, not because he has a problem with his beard he just prefers it easy. Then he makes up for it with a nice hairy chest. But we’ll reserve that for another time. LOL

I personally love a man with a well-trimmed full beard and that beard burn you can get from it… Whoa YES PLEASE!!! I’d like to know what you think of a beard so please feel free to leave your thought in the comments.

Till next time. Remember, Be your beautiful selves, be kind – even when no one’s watching. And be brave. Take care lovelies. Much love. XOXO Y/N.

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b4civility · 4 years

Text

August,7

fanfic based on the “teenage love triangle” on Folklore, “Betty”, “August” and “Cardigan”. Still releasing new chapters, stay tooned!

[NO WARNINGS]

summary: Betty doesn’t realize she is touching James the first time she does so. James doesn’t realize she is everything he wants the first time he paints her sink red. Alisson doesn’t realize she wasn’t part of the plan. August slipped away like a bottle of wine, as quick as it could,staining everything it reaches.

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Chapter 1: Betty

Whenever I have to pack, my head gets cloudy. Always seems like I got everything I need, except that the Object That I Take For Granted But Actually Use Everyday stays behind, like a bath sponge or a coffee pot. I know this will happen, but get a bit of a headache every time trying to fight it. All the boxes in mu checklist are checked, but this anxious feeling still buzzes inside my head.

‘Check under the bed to see if there’s something there’, mom says.

I check. There is, but nothing that belongs to me.

I am moving from a house of girls to another house of girls, but at least I get to have the unspoken individuality of my belongings, the entitlement to my schedule and to have “ I would rather not talk about it” or “I want to keep it to myself” as a legitimate answer this time around. My sisters are pretty sad about it- Skyler says she will miss my closet the most. “ So I am supposed to buy my own earrings now? How much do they cost? Do you try them on at the store? Is it ok if I get them wet by accident or will they be totally ruined?” she shoots at me as I finish packing my jewelry. “ Did you not care to not spill water on my earrings when you wore them?”, I ask, but she just looks away and plays with the ones that are in her ear, that are, too, mine. They are the silver with some dark green balls at the end. I stole them from a fancy boutique when I was 14, igniting my addiction to this accessory. I stole a couple more until the guilt finally kicked in,and then became an expert on finding cheap and not that bad ones at Aliexpress. I’ll just let her have it, looks better with her short hair than with my long one. Even though we have the same kind of curls, mine weren’t as defined as hers when I had short hair. A little bit shorter than the earrings, makes her look so edgy. She loves it.

Eliza, in the other hand, despites my wardrobe, but worships my baking skills. One Sunday or the other we bake together, she makes sour doo biscuits and I bake a cake. This is our stack for the week, and then we try a different recipe for the dessert that day. We have a nice dynamic in the kitchen by now-she hates making cake but loves eating mine and I feel the same way about her biscuits, ans since both of us have a sweet tooth, baking is taken very seriously under this roof.

The four of us get in the car, I get the backseat since Eliza is our official DJ (not that we gave her the title, rather she took it),plus, mom likes her by her side. Never have I ever sat behind the wheels when the entire family was in the car, for some reason mom would always get cautious about it when I asked if I could drive in these situations, even though I have been each and everyone’s chauffeur at some point.

Tomorrow, at this very hour, I would be waking up to none of them. The closest thing to not being a sister I ever had was before I was seven, when Skyler wasn’t born yet, the bedroom was all mine and dad only had one volleyball player in our backyard. The closest thing I ever got to not being a daughter when he left. I was 12, Skyler was 5 and mom was in no condition to deal with her and our loss at the same time. Grandma was around a lot for the next 2 years. I couldn’t say the same about our mother, even up to this date.

So I was reading her body expression, her smile at what my sister was saying about the music she chose, her thin neck, blurred by some hair strands that got out of her pony tale and eventually felt on her shoulders covered by her green cardigan, and how easily breakable her peacefulness appeared. Not because of my departure,no, she has been looking like this everyday since that last day. I don’t believe the other two ever notices that, not when they got their hands full with the colossal mess they make to get their older sister’s attention. It does work, I’m even moving houses because of it;college is just a social-acceptable excuse.

Three hours later we have completed our journey from Mendax to Verum, the college town just 20 minutes away from campus. Five other girls were to live with me, none that I have met yet, but their facebook page tells me I got another Political Science major in the house, two English majors, a biology southmore and soon-to-be-graduated journalist. I sort of hoped I was going to be the first one to arrive so I could get my stuff in place first, not have all the stubbornness that run through my family’s DNA thrown at them as a first impression and possibly bake a Homecoming/Welcome/If My Words Fail Me At Least I Have This Going For Me cake. Plus, I own Eliza this last/ first moment, so I’d ask for her help.

The house was unapologetically pink. The pastel tone suited the wood-revested building very well, so much it felt like Barbie Dream House: College edition. The family house energy of it, the immense porch space, the spacious interior corridors,two livingrooms and the hugh gress space in the backyard were the opposite of what you would expect of a college girls’ residency, yet everything you wish they all looked like. Besides, this was a very prospect location for an off campus party, so I think I got the upper hand with this one.

“ You are in a Barbie movie scenario for your entire graduation. I’m so jealous I can’t barely put it into words” Skyler said, staring at it, blinking as if she was waiting for it to disappear the next time she opened her eyes. “ Yeah,I will be sitting at the porch waiting to see if Ken shows up anytime soon,too.” I answered as I stood next to her, holding boxes. “Yeah, be sure to look very carefully for him at the massive Homecoming barbecue you guys are going to be having in this abnormous big backyard of yours”.So it was that obvious.” But don’t get attached to the first cutie you see, ok? Someone better could be just around the corner... ”. I don’t even want to imagine how her college years are going to be like. Probably a little cooler than mine; she always knows how to make a fun moment even funnier. Is it legal to bring your underaged sibling to a uni party?

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you in mind whenever I get more-than-two-dates invested in someone here”

Did Skyler really thought that my next romance would just fall into my backyard, like that?

Chapter 2: James

The sound of the wheels rolling on the concrete always get people looking, even when you are far from them. Anyone in top of a skateboard becomes a model in a suburban street, whose streets turn into a red carpet filled with paparazzi. I try to say something like “good morning” or “hello” to whoever I am passing by in an attempt to make my politeness overcome the annoyance of the loud noise, and convince myself that it works. Somehow, I often end up in a situation where it would be better not to be seen: whether is when I am riding my board and I get loud or in places I shouldn’t be attempting to land a trick at, or when I am pointing my camera at someone, trying to get a picture without them noticing. As if it isn’t happening for the hundredth time, I awkwardly pause, try to wave at them so I don’t come out as a stalker and gesticulating an apology all at once. People generally frown and move some place else, as a anyone in their right mind would. But only my headphones come with me for the ride when I know I will be taking The Pink House road. Two years ago I was riding by for the fourth time in the same week - ok, that was pretty stalker-y - getting shots of the house, the thing that struck me at first, and then the feature that actually grabbed my attention: the girls. There were four college girls living there, all who seemed so bubbly,so full of life, so enjoyable to the eye, so hot. By that time I had the count in my head, and one of them was missing. Didn’t mind much, got some rather good photos of Claire, the only one that I(oddly,but actually) knew. We made out at a uni party that I had sneaked in to the year before. As soon as I looked forward, A bloody face jumped in front of me,screaming, scaring me enough so that I felt in the concrete, scratched an elbow and hurting my feet.

“THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON’T WEAR PROTECTION PADS!!!!! AND ALSO WHEN YOU ACT LIKE A CREEP FUCK,BASTARD!”

As I pointed my head to the sky, the bloody shadow took away the mask, to reveal the fourth girl missing. “I-I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to.. I was just… The house, I-”

“Oh God ,it’s a creepy kid”, she said, throwing a hand to help me get up. “ So just because you are a cute teenager you think you can spy on stranger’s house like that?!?”- she said I was cute- “Yo, it’s no stalker”- kinda was- “just a random kid with a camera. Partially broken camera, you might wanna pick that piece up”. That was the day I met Inez. We got quite acquainted since that day, and photographing a place that you are allowed in got boring after the first two times so we just became friends.

I searched for her, but instead saw a brown girl istead. A new girl. Someone I was not ready to see. I stopped breathing the second she raised her head and I could see her almond eyes better, the spark on her cheeks reflecting the sun. The next thing I knew I had my face on the concrete, with the same elbow scratched, again.

“Shit, are you ok? You're bleeding” she (yes, she!) said to me.

“I-I’m cool, I’m cool… you know,just...whatever, happens all the time and shit...” . My mouth doesn’t know how to work when my brain is in complete shock with the view, apparently.

“You should at least wash it, your elbow could get infected, come on inside” she said, as she held my hand and arm very softly. You could see she was trying not to touch the injury much, but I swear I wasn’t feeling my entire body.

Chapter 3: Betty

“I suppose we should have a first aid kit here, somewhere…”- he’s painting my sink in red as the water runs in the wound. What a way to start. “Eliza, Skyler, help me; you go look if you find anything in the bathroom and you, keep at the kitchen cabinets”.

“It’s on the upper shelf, actually”, he answers.

It was.What the fuck?

“So you live here now?!?!” I hear a voice from behind that isn’t my mother’s. It’s the biology major,even though she is blonder than her facebook pictures.

“I-I-I just… arrived…. I’m sorry he… I was just...” Was I ever going to come up with the right sequence of words to explain that I, a girl she never met, had got into her house with a bleeding,also strange boy and two teenagers running wild looking through her stuff? The chances are beyond unlikely,at its best.

“Not you, I was expecting you- I mean him”, she arched her eyebrows.

“Inez ! long time no see, girl!”, he replies with a sort of laughing, trying to lighten up the mood. I wasn't understanding one bit of what was going on.

“ You couldn’t wait for the party so you just brought it right in yourself, huh? Look at the mess you made in my kitchen! You know, I am leaving here next year so you better make a good impression of yourself for the other girls if you want to keep falling in our doorstep and getting aid”

“I don’t think I’m their first option but I can make it work, never smile at someone and didn’t get a smile back” he says softly, kind of taking advantage of it, as he smiles at Inez, and she tries to hold it, but smiles back. I smile a little bit too, but still- what the fuck is happening?!?!

“ You believe that your white teeth will get you anywhere, don’t you?”

“It got me aid the first time I ever felt in your doorstep. Also got you letting me teach you how to skateboard,which was super cool” he started sounding a little bit more teenager-y. How old was he?

“ I always wanted to skate, you just happened to have a skateboard”. The air in the room was decrisealing chaotic. What he did worked.

“Oh, like we were the only two people here, I am so sorry; hi, I’m Inez, welcome home,Beatrice!” she turns to me, shaking my hand, with a relaxed smile on.

“Thank you, you can call me Betty” He really softened the mood, the words even came out of my mouth normally.

“Ok, sure. I was meant to be here earlier but I had a salon appointment. But you met the house mascot already,so that’s one thing out of the list”- she points at this skater, sitting on the sink- “ This is James, he’s around more than he should. Do you need help? with the boxes?” And then I remembered of my sisters, running loose around the house and my mom, probably on the car outside.

“ My sisters and I got everything by the porch already, there aren’t many”

“Fine, I will just wrap up this skater’s arm in a band-Aid and then I’ll show you your room. Clem is your roommate. You are enrolled in political science too, right?”

“Yeah”

“Nice, I think you two will be quite a match then. James, get your board rolling outta here, you are done, you can stop scarring my new roomate.

“ Thanks, ‘Nez” he hopped out of the sink. “ It was never my intention to scare you. Nice meeting you, Betty” he gives me a quiet smile, looking into my eyes just for a second before looking at the ground. He ran a little bit down the hallway, got on the skateboard and went out of sight. He had this boyish posture, stubborn, unaware of his own size. His broad shoulders moved along with his waist as he strolled away. It was nice meeting you,too,James.

#folklore #taylorstans #taylor swift #original story #betty #august #cardigan #folklorefic august7

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elesheva · 4 years

Text

this year in text found in my iphone photos

The members of the fiction admissions committee at the Writers’ Workshop have carefully reviewed your application, and I am sorry to report that we are unable to offer you a place.

left me to wonder that I too might lift my voice, sure of someone out there, send it over the lines stitching here to there, certain the sounds I make are enough to call someone home

Nothing on earth is more gladdening than knowing we must roll up our sleeves and move back the boundaries of the humanly possible once more.

But today he’ll stop home to deposit a hot coffee on my bedside. For years I fought

moving to this rich gulag because I thought it was too white or too right or too dumb, but really, as Blake once said, I couldn't bear the beams of love.

That is obscene, what are you raising money for, monocles for babies?

It was love, the furnace into which everything is dropped.

I don’t know about other places, but here on Earth there’s quite a lot of everything. Here chairs are made and sadness, scissors, violins, tenderness, transistors, water dams, jokes, teacups.

ALL GAMBLERS AND FANCY WOMEN MUST SIGN UP WITH CAPTAIN BEFORE BOAT LEAVES FOR NEW ORLEANS

Picasso Notre Dame de Vie Mougins AM(06)

I’m so grateful for the gift of your friendship, H

Aux États-Unis, le Comité national démocrate (DNC) a décidé que les candidats aux primaires devaient, pour participer aux débats de septembre 2019, remplir deux conditions :

Some people there are who, being grown, forget the horrible task of learning to read.

I want to hear only your light voice running on about Florida as we pass the changing traffic light and buy grapes for wherever we will end up praising the mattressless sleigh-bed and the Mexican egg and the clock that will not make me know how to leave you --

Whenever I saw a solitary figure walking toward another, I’d hope that their eyes would meet, that one would wink at the other, and they’d sneak off into the shadows together for a fast fuck--an impromptu celebration, hell, just an acknowledgement, of the simple fact that they were alive and young.

...the dancing in the streets, the house that every year hangs huge signs and bright balloon garlands for the runners, the church choirs and school bands that come out to play, the months everyone’s been training, all of it, this whole thing, why? It’s so stupid. There’s no point--why? For no reason, except the expression of that dense bright kernel of joy in the heart (sorry) of all of us.

either his name was always scar or your break into my house and snap my fucking neck it’s your call

I plan to live long enough to see a woman win.

and whether joy is the work we do to be able to handle our grief

and whether love is

He took her hand and sang her the Hungarian song she taught him in Auschwitz. He wanted to show her that he remembered the words.

I know not whether it is owing to the tenderness of early associations, but this portion of New York appears to many persons the most delectable. It has a kind of established repost which is not of frequent occurrence in other quarters of the long, shrill city; it has a riper, richer, more honorable look than any of the upper ramifications of the great longitudinal thoroughfare.

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harryandhishook · 5 years

Text

Wings are made to Fly Chapter 4

Pairing: Not fully sure yet, just gonna see how it goes (Maybe Evie? Don’t know yet)

Setting: Auradon

Warning: Erm ... none? I think at least

Summary: Everyone knows what type of person they are, Fairy, Goblin, Dragon or just a simple person and Harry thinks he’s just a simple guy but the more he comes into contact with Auradon and magic, the more the people around him notice something off and maybe Auradon is the only place with answers

Words: 2165

Requested: Nope, me and my Fiance were roleplaying this and I thought it would be awesome to make it into a Fanfic

Side note: I am so incredibly sorry I haven’t updated in a while, I went on holiday a couple of weeks ago, Uni has been crazy since it’s my final year on this course of undergrad and just AAHH so here’s chapter 4, I’m currently writing chapter 6 and just need to check for errors for errors in chapter 5 as well as continue other fanfics like my Gav Con and some smut I’m writing, also sorry it’s so short :)

First // Prev // Next

Several weeks went by, Harry had been going through many different procedures, operating on his back to check that nothing had harmed his organs or bones, physio therapy to make sure he could continue to walk fine and then simple exercises on his wings to make sure he could properly use them. To everyone’s amazement, he was a fast healer and definitely a fast learner, it was almost as if he had been using his wings for as long as his arms, every movement he made, his wings did something too, if he was sad, anxious or scared, his wings would lower down but if he was happy, excited or calm, his wings would go up and for the first time in months, his life felt normal again … well, as normal as if can be.

Once again, the group were sat in the pirates room, Gil, Uma, Ben, and on Harry’s request, Max. Each of them sat around the young Hook who was quietly snuggled up on the bay window bench, watching the world around him go by, none of them speaking for a while, just enjoying the peace. They watched as Harry’s wings fluttered softly against his back, twitching at every little movement his head made as he watched people below him go about their day to day routine,

“I’ve been thinking,” the young pirate said, his eyes still trained to the ground under his window, his soft brown locks almost glowing in the light of the sun, “I haven’t been out of me room since I got here, I’ve been cooped up, hiding away as I’ve healed … I want to go out and I want, god I can’t believe I’m saying this but … I want to go to class, I want to actually try and show them reasons of why I should stay here …” the young pirate finally turned his head to look at the group who were all now watching him with shocked expressions, “I want to talk to the pixies” he stated quite suddenly, causing almost everyone’s jaws in the group to drop; the ferocious pirate, Harry Hook, wanted to attend school.

Uma was the first to do something other than sit there and look like a fool. She slowly stood from her chair, taking small steps to sit beside Harry at the window, her small, smooth hands taking his larger ones in hers as she smiled at him,

“If that’s what you want Harry, we will help you, Ben can get in contact with the queen of the pixies and we can help build up your confidence, you’re not alone in this” she reassured, rubbing her thumbs across the backs of his hands, looking around at the others who were nodding in agreement, “Tell us what to do and we’ll do it” she continued as she looked back at her friend who was looking just as happily back, his eyes full of an emotion she had never seen on the boys face before, complete happiness and adoration, “Tell us what you want to do, Harry” she whispered, waiting for his response.

Harry watched her for a moment, thinking of the things he would need, first, he’d need to hide his wings, then he would need to discuss his predicament with Fairy God Mother and obviously the Queen of the Pixies then just try and go about his life,

“I know what I need, however, I will have to tell one other person” the pirate explained but before he could continue any further, his hands were squeezed by Umas and a concerned expression crossed her face,

“Are you sure? Harry, I trust you but are you sure you want to tell anyone else? What if they tell others? What if they use it against you?” she asked, her voice desperate and full of worry, her hands not loosening their grip causing Harry to try and pry his hands away,

“Uma … Captain … calm ye’self, please” the pirate demanded as he tried desperately to stop Uma from her rambling, “I promise ye’, they won’t, I trust them with me life” he reassured just as he finally managed to pry his hands from hers, quickly moving to place them on either side of her face, stopping any words from leaving her mouth, “It’s Evie, Uma, I need to ask Evie for new coats, she’s the only one I know who can make clothing and I know she’d be able to help me, she’d understand more than anyone” the young pirate managed to explain, staring into her eyes as a way of trust as he spoke before letting go of her face, smiling softly.

With a sigh, Uma gaze moved to the large widows beside them, her mind racing with nothing but worry for her friend,

“Okay, say we tell Evie, then what?” the Sea Witch asked, turning her head back to look at him, a frown present on her face as she started to construct different outcomes in her mind,

“My plan is, I ask Evie to make me some new clothing to hide my wings easily, then when the Queen arrives, I tell Fairy God Mother so she can help make arrangements while I find out what’s going on then after that, I get used to living life in the shadows … or as best in the shadows as possible at least” the young boy finally explained to them all and it seemed he had made up his mind quite quickly as he turned to look at everyone else in the room, “Please, this is all I ask” he pleaded, giving everyone little puppy dog eyes to try and help his case which amazingly made everyone cave quite quickly,

“Okay” Ben started, the first to speak out of the rest of them, “I’ll get in contact with Queen Clarion, since it’s the middle of summer, she shouldn’t be too busy, Max can get Evie here without too much suspicion, especially if he says that I’m needing her” the King explained, smiling as he stood, ready to get everything sorted, “I think the sooner we get all this done, the better, don’t worry Harry, you’ll be able to go outside soon, I promise you” he reassured before bowing his head to everyone, “If you will all excuse me, I will get everything in order” Ben turned and quickly left the room, pulling his phone from his pocket on his way out.

With Ben gone, Max stood, smiling softly at Harry as he stepped closer, placing a hand upon the boys shoulder before speaking,

“I’ll go retrieve Miss Evie for you” he said before taking his leave of the room, leaving Harry alone with Gil, who was still adorable as ever, sitting with a goofy smile on his face and Uma, who was watching Harry with a very unconvinced expression on her face,

“Harry, are you one hundred percent sure this is a good thing to do, what if Mal finds out, you know she still has ill feelings towards us, she’d never let it slide” the Captain stated, a slight tone of fear behind her words. Harry knew it was risky, he knew that there could be some bad consequences behind his actions but if he didn’t try then he wouldn’t know,

“I trust Evie, I trust she wouldn’t do something so big out of malice and anyway, little miss princess has never really had a problem with us, it was always the purple bitch” he reassured, taking one of her hands in his, gently tracing soft patterns on the back, “I know ye’re scared for me Capt’n but please, trust me” he begged, raising her hand to his lips to place a soft kiss on her dark smooth skin.

Uma went to argue, a sigh left her as she opened her mouth but was interrupted by a soft knock on the door and a deep voice behind it,

“Master Harry, Miss Evie is here” the voice, now recognised as Max, spoke through the door, allowing Harry some warning. The Pirate bit his lip, fear evident on his face as he turned to look at Uma, pleading with his eyes for her to answer which she did with a smile.

The Sea Witch stood from the seat against the bay window, walking to the door slowly before turning back to Harry who gave her a hesitant nod, making her open the large door, keeping the gap small for the moment as she poked her head out,

“Harry is a little nervous so Evie, please, don’t freak or anything” Uma warned before finally opening the door enough for them to walk in, quickly closing it once both were standing fully inside.

For a moment, the situation must have confused Evie as she looked around the room, seeing nothing that would require her presence until her gaze stopped at Harry who was now stood, wings down against his back as he cautiously made his way closer to her,

“Evie, I am trusting ye’ with something big here, ye’ are me only hope to let me live a normal life in this school and I know ye’ Evie, I know that ye’ are too sweet to let anyone live in fear so please Evie, I’m begging ye’, help me” the pirate pleaded as he finally stood directly in front of her; the confusion on Evies face still very apparent until the soft glow of his wings caught her eyes as he slowly raised them to fold out beside him, revealing them to her.

The young princess gasped as she watched the mystery unfold in front of her; her gaze ran over his wings slowly, taking in everything with a little confusion and worry. With caution and a request of permission in her eyes, Evie raised her hand carefully, reaching out to touch the sparkling limb; her fingers came into contact suddenly as the Pirate turned his side towards her, letting the wing move against her dainty fingers,

“Harry … I … I don’t understand how I could possibly help…” she whispered as she carefully rolled her fingers across his wing, watching how the wings fluttered like a shiver.

Finally, the moment was stopped when the pirate stepped away to look at her, an almost scared expression on his face, an expression Evie had never seen with the pirate before,

“I don’t want anyone to know about this and I need ye help to hide them and well, ye’re the only person I know who can make amazing clothing so I thought that maybe ye’d be able to help us figure out a way to hide these” he explained, gesturing to the wings, one of which fluttering almost like it was waving hello to her causing Evie to giggle softly,

“Well, I’ve never made anything for Pixies before but …” the princess placed a finger on her chin as she thought before smiling wide, looking up at the pirate with a face that could bring the toughest man to their knees, “I can certainly try, I would be happy to” she said with a cheerful expression before circling Harry like a hawk observing their prey, “Hhmm, well, I’d suggest something long, something that has some room inside, we don’t want them to be too cramp now do we, we’d also need a soft material…” Evie suggested as she stopped behind him, carefully placing her fingers on the edge of his wings to move them around gently, “I’m guessing they are quite sensitive so nothing that could put long lasting harm on them, maybe a nice cotton or we could possible make the inside a soft silk so that it’s easier for your wings to slide against it …” She let go of his wings to continue walking around him before finally turning away from him, moving to his wardrobe to look over his clothes, seeing that the majority of his coats were red with a few black ones, “I think we’ll be definitely going for a mix of red and black, detachable sleeves, obviously, I think a trench coat style might be best to go for” she thought before finally closing the wardrobe, turning happily to everyone in the room, “I’ll get everything drawn up and get started on it as soon as I can” she smiled as she crossed the room to stand in front of Harry, “Don’t worry, I’ll make you look fabulous” she chuckled before quickly making her way from the room, waving goodbye to everyone as she excitedly headed to her room to start the little project, leaving everyone a little stunned and very unexpectedly happy.

Back in the room, Harry, Uma, Gil and Max stared at the door, none of them knowing what to say as they all stood with smiles on their faces for a while before Gil finally spoke up,

“Well, that went better than expected” he exclaimed, causing the others to burst out laughing.

—

Taglist

@descendantofthesparrow

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pondernce · 5 years

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Behind Closed Doors: Chapter 3

A/N: So this thing keeps getting longer and longer, so this chapter is really the first half. But anyway, I hope you enjoy! Big thanks to @julesbeauchamp (even in her absence :( ) and @curlsgetdemgurls for their support and encouragement to actually write the thing!!!

Chapter 3

After her escape to the eastern Mediterranean, Claire had been lucky enough to find not only a flat in London, but a roommate who soon became one of her closest—and only—friends. Geillis Duncan was everything Claire was not, at least when it came to her personal life. The door to her room seemed constantly revolving and Claire couldn’t fault the scot for it. She only questioned how a physician had so much time to find all those gorgeous men.

Geillis tried to share the wealth, so to speak, to get Claire to take her up on her offers to head to this pub, that opening, or this party. Normally she refused. But seeing James Fraser again warranted more than a mere bottle of Rioja on her couch.

And that was how she found herself slightly tipsy and tugging on a dress she hadn’t worn in ages. It’s fitted frame clung to her chest in a way she normally avoided (aided by one of Geillis’ push up bras), and grabbed hold of her hips, nipped in as it was at the waist. Claire had always loved the dress. It made her feel like a vintage star, gossamer bell sleeves and dramatic cleavage, despite the more modest hemline. She slipped on her heels and looked up when Geillis wolf whistled.

“And here I thought I’d have to help ye, but my my. Ye clean up well, Beauchamp. Pity ye’ve a closet full of jumpers.”

Claire rolled her eyes and attempted to ruffle her curls into a slightly less bent shape. She really should have taken her bun out ages ago. “Oh sod off, my jumpers are flattering. I’m teaching now, I can’t get away with… this. I’m surprised you can at the clinic!”

In truth, she knew it was out of character for her to get so dressed up. The few times in the last months she had been out with her roommate, she’d worn jeans and a fitted jumper, or perhaps a blouse and jacket. Never a dress. And certainly no heels. Seeing him today had reminded her what it felt like to be wanted like that. She tried not to think about that time often, but when lost in those deep blue eyes she couldn’t help it. She’d been almost squirming, torn between desire and discomfort, in her bloody classroom.

With a huff, Claire looked back at Geillis. “I just… I wanted to get out. Maybe finally partake in the fun. It’s been—“

“Aye, far too long! But ye don’t need to excuse yerself. I just wish ye’d tell me what happened today. Usually, I’m the one asking ye to come out.”

The memory of ruffled red curls caressing tanned shoulders flashed before her eyes, and Claire failed to shake the ghost from her mind. “I um…” she could feel the flush on her cheeks, creeping down her neck and dangerously low along her bodice. “I just need a night out. You know?”

Geillis hummed, seeming to give in. Although her gaze gave away her suspicions. “Well then. We’ve a new place to try. Somewhere hopefully we willna find any of yer students!” Laughing, she spun out of the room and grabbed her coat, impatiently urging her roommate along.

With a last gulp of her wine and a final tussle of her hair, Claire followed her out of the flat in a cloud of perfume and the clicking of towering heels.

—-

“Ye seem a bit lost there…” Jamie called out, leaning against the slightly crumbling wall of one of Nicosia’s many ancient buildings. In the late afternoon sun, the city wasn’t exactly bustling with life, but the old town still boasted shops and stalls, among which he’d found this gorgeously out of place creature. She turned and for a moment he was entirely lost in the startling hue of her eyes. Not brown, just shy of gold. Fine whiskey through a crystal cut glass, sparkling back at him.

She looked surprised, those eyes wide in her slightly flushed face. “I’m sorry? I’m not lost, just wandering around… playing tourist. Aren’t you?” The crisp vowels of her posh accent were in such contrast to her own, and he wondered if she was as confused as he.

“A Sassenach? And ye ended up touring the city alone?” His tone softened, even as he stood up off the wall and stepped a bit closer to her. Jamie was no monk, but he’d never understood the need some in his company felt to relentlessly chase after girls, to take them home every time they had leave. Perhaps he would have had he ever seen her. “Dinna take that the wrong way, aye? I’m wandering alone myself. Just nae a tourist.”

She nodded, held her ground, and for that Jamie felt all the more entranced. “You’re hardly from here. I’ve lived in Edinburgh, I recognize a Scot.” She smirked a little, those eyes dancing at him, challenging him. “And I know Sassenach is not a nice name.”

“I meant ye nae offence,” he laughed, shaking his head softly. A few sun-bleached curls fell over his brow. They hadn’t been this long since before he enlisted. But in recovery here among the medical corps and troops on loan to the UN Peacekeepers, no one cared if Colonel Fraser’s hair grew out.

“Just… Well ye confused me there, an English lass here. And ye did seem lost. This street goes nowhere, just takes ye to a plaza with no exits and a very cranky old woman.” He winked, or he tried to.

It made her laugh and shake her head, the blush on her cheeks growing. “I wanted to see the city, although the beaches are lovely….” she looked up at him and he saw her debate with herself, and give in. “My uncle is an archaeologist, so I grew up quite familiar with ruins. I couldn’t pass up a day trip here. Now, what is a Scot doing in Nicosia?”

Filled with curiosity akin to wonder, Jamie’s smile grew. “Ye’ll have to tell me more about that…” he pushed his hand through his hair, watched her eyes flick to the flex of his bicep. “I’m on leave from the military. There’s a couple of bases here, and it’s a better vacation than a Scottish spring.”

They talked and walked (out of the dead-end little land and along wider streets, up narrow allies and to the parapets of the ancient walls), and he relished every word that fell from her lips. At sundown he convinced her, rather easily, to join him at a small restaurant. He tried to show off, ordering in Turkish, only for the woman to roll her eyes at him and make sure Claire got what she wanted too, her English accented but clear.

Jamie learned so much about this strange woman, and also so little. She spoke of her travels and her uncles and of the myriad of places she’d lived. Of her hobby in botany and alternative medicine that was rapidly becoming a career. But never truly of herself. His curiosity lingered.

Claire touched him first, taking his hand as they sipped their wine, letting her foot tap his under the table.

It was all too easy to fall. To forget.

He kissed her outside the bistro, and along the walls. She kissed him against the Famagusta Gate, pressed her petite frame to his, molded herself against him. In those moments, they both were lost.

“Come back with me,” Claire murmured it, looking up at him almost upside-down, her back to his front and his arms guarding her against the soft breeze. “I have to get a ride back Kayalar... “ she looked up at him, turning out of his embrace. There in the shadow of Girne Kapısı, Jamie imprinted the image of her in his mind forever.

“Aye, I’ll come,” his smile was flirtatious, his hands wrapping her hips and drawing her back against him. “How could I say no to ye?”

—-

Jamie glanced around the packed bar with a small sigh. Every inch of the place was crammed with uni students, eager to celebrate the start of the year, the return to their mates, and their newfound freedoms. John was among them, dancing between two girls with abandon. The lad could move, Jamie had to admit that. His slightly outrageous dancing and warm smile had drawn girls and blokes all night. It had been fun until those girls started circling him as well.

“Are you starting this year as well?” Perky brunette number three, a friend of blond number two, smiled up at him. He had to credit them for being bold and confident. No use in squashing that, so he finished his beer and nodded.

“Aye. In law.” he looked a bit bored, glanced back at John, and then down at the girl. “Sorry, what did ye say you were studying?”

She pursed her lips. Good, better she thinks him an arse than doubt herself. “Nursing. I think. My sister does it and she likes it well enough.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. Christ, even the batting of her lashes.

He needed to get out of here.

Holding up his pint so she could see its sorry state, Jamie nodded to the bar. “Excuse me…”

There was no refuge there, crammed against the counter and fighting for the attention of the older man behind the counter. A bloke slammed into his shoulder, sputtering an apology and nearly spilling his drink. “Careful aye?” Jamie sighed, helping the lad right himself. He felt so bloody old standing there, slightly too sober and having none of the chaos around him.

As he closed out he finally got John to look at him. “I’m heading out!” hopefully his motioning to the door was enough to make it clear, but he was sure he wouldn’t be missed.

Outside he could at least get his bearings, shake the ringing of the base from his ears and take a proper breath. The night was still early and so he walked, taking in the area around Kings. In truth, he’d never explored London. He’d never explored much in any place, except for one glorious day in the Eastern Mediterranean. He couldn’t think of that, of her, now.

With a sigh, he turned up a street and spotted a calmer, near empty bar sporting the sort of plush leather couch his flat sorely lacked. Perfect. Whiskey on the mind, the former soldier wandered in and up to the bar. For a moment he simply waited, staring at the polished copper bar top, and a pair of delicate, feminine hands resting on it. “Whiskey neat,” he murmured, “Glen Moray, if ye’ve it.” He assumed they did, given the bottles covered the wall behind the man.

Settled in his waiting, Jamie almost missed the soft gasp of the woman to his left. “Sorry, did I bump ye--” he stopped, lost for the second time that day to the melt of her whiskey eyes. “Claire?”

Without thinking he reached out to grab her upper arm. It was meant to be reassuring but he watched her almost flinch away.

“Jamie,” she smiled, something brittle and fractured. “Why aren’t you out with... “

“All the other children celebrating the start of the term?” He arched a brow and laughed softly. “I’m nae a kid, Claire. Hardly younger than ye, ye ken.”

“I know. I know that…” she bit her lip, and all Jamie could think was of how terribly he wanted to replace her teeth with his own.

The bar was nearly empty, only the soft clink of glasses and the quiet murmur of a few patrons surrounded them, muffled by the rich hardwood and supple fabrics of the furnishings. It was intimate, posh. An absolute contrast to the airy furnishings of the room they’d shared that night in Cyprus.

As the silence stretched on, Claire found her words. “I never expected to see you again. You said you were going back to war,” her eyes refused to settle on his, dancing about the room. “You said a lot of things, actually. Nothing that promised you’d ever be in London.” The opposite, in fact.

Jamie waited, registering the pain in her voice and the guilt that flared up, not unlike the old wounds he’d sustained in the war. “Aye, I did. I was a coward then, I’ll admit that. But seeing ye again…” He smiled, stepped closer to her, almost taking the last of her space. The polished metal bevel of the bar prevented her from backing away. “Seeing ye again is more than I allowed myself to dream of, Sassenach.”

Her heart leaping into her throat, Claire finally met his eyes. “You left.”

“I had to. I couldn’t be in that room with ye and face the future I’d signed up to, having met ye… Knowing that I could have so much more than a life at war. Christ Claire, ye ken how I felt about ye!”

The bartender glanced between them as he set Jamie’s whiskey down, arching a brow. The aggravated whispering had evidently caught his attention. “Everythin’ alright over here? Do you need another martini, miss?”

She shook her head, breaking her gaze with Jamie and abandoning the words resting on her tongue. “No. Thank you, really. Excuse me,” flustered, she pushed past him and Jamie let her go. Against his better judgment, he let her go again. He watched unmoving as she all but speed-walked to the other side of the bar and a pretty redhead in a booth. When they got up to leave he sighed and sipped his whiskey, finally settling at the bar.

—-

‘We need to go,” Claire’s heart was still pounding in her chest as she fought to process Jamie’s words. That night she had been the one to open her heart, to let him see all the shadows in herself along with the light. She’d trusted him, foolishly, and he’d never shown that for him it might have been too much. Not until the next evening. For him to admit to feeling… well, she assumed he felt the same as she did.

And it was terrifying.

“What?” Geillis frowned, glancing at her empty glass. “Ye went to get more drinks and now we’ve got to go? What happened, Claire?”

“I’ll explain but can we just go, please? I’ll explain at home.”

“Ye better. Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost.”

She pursed her lips as she shrugged on her coat. “Perhaps I have. It feels like it.”

Although Claire was normally grateful for the proximity of their flat to everything, including Geillis’ preferred cocktail lounge, but at the moment she wished for more time. Processing that night, and Jamie’s declaration would take longer than the three blocks offered. Lost in her thought, she almost missed their door entirely.

“Claire,” she felt Geillis’ hand on her arm, guiding her into the door. “Alright, spill. I willna be sitting here for these dramatics. There canna be two drama queens in this house, love.”

G always was dramatic, as fiery as her red hair, while Claire was the voice of reason. Despite their close friendship over the last two years, she rarely confided in Geillis about her past. Over the years she’d admitted the whole debacle with Frank, why she ran from Boston. But she’d kept mum about Jamie. And why? Why was he, for all the brevity of their time together, so much more significant? Perhaps because that day was the first time Claire had ever felt truly seen for herself, and that night the only time she’d ever felt so thoroughly worshipped. Or worshipped at all.

“I ran into someone at the bar. A student of mine,” she watched Geillis grin and shook her head. “G, focus. Yes, he’s gorgeous, but it’s more than that.” Claire slipped off her heels as she sat on the couch, drawing her knees to her chest.

“I met him before, when I spent time with my uncles after leaving Frank. I’d taken a week for myself while they were on a dig, took a trip over to the Turkish side of Cyprus.” She sighed, almost wistfully. “It’s such a beautiful island. It was supposed to be a trip for myself, alone, to heal from what happened with Frank--”

“But ye met a man,” Geillis nodded, coming back into the living room with two drams of whiskey.

Accepting the liquor gratefully, she nodded. “I did. Jamie. He was a soldier on medical leave, for a month or so there… He never truly said what had happened to him, only that he was in Afghanistan. But the scars… God, G, his back had to have been completely torn apart. They were still healing when we met.”

She closed her eyes, recalling the feeling of his back under her hands, the strong muscle marred by deep gauges, some still red and angry even in the half-light of the moon. “He never told me much about himself at all, actually. I suppose I didn’t realize that until it was over. But I told him everything, G, things I’ve never told anyone. And he didn’t just listen. He made me feel… loved.” she blushed, shaking her head.

“I’m a fucking idiot, aren’t I? I fell in love with a man I knew for one day,” she scoffed, tipping the rest of the whiskey down her throat in one gulp. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I thought he felt the same! I can’t explain it, but it seemed like… there was something there.”

Claire seemed to deflate then, resting her cheek on her knees as her eyes closed. “I’d never felt shame like that. Not for having a one night stand, but for giving so much of myself-- of my trust-- to someone who could just walk out of my life.”

#behind closed doors #outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fic #outlander fanfiction #jamie & claire #my fic

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coconutbalm · 7 years

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holy grail fic rec

since all i do is read fic i figured i should share my faves

also these are all larry fics sorry

devil town a southern us au

so keep my candle bright louis returns to his hometown after four years to find that the reverend’s son has done some growing up of his own.

this wicked game An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

tug-of-war Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

i’ll make this feel like home Harry can't sleep because the cat next door won't stop meowing. He goes over to confront its owner, things go surprisingly well, and the cat ends up being the cutest thing that he's ever seen. Well, besides its omega owner.A love story quickly blossoms.

we’ll be the stars When cleaning out his grandmothers art supplies, Harry finds a magical paintbrush that brings to life anything he paints. So he decides to paint his dead fiancé, Louis.

happiness comes in on tiptoes the AU where Louis is new to the neighborhood and Harry is the angel living next door.

keep on dreaming, this is hollywood A Pretty Woman AU where Louis is the high-powered businessman and Harry is the hooker. No, there is no necklace scene, but there is definitely piano sex.

have you coming back again It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym.Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain.

just a feeling The first time that Harry thinks about marriage in relation to Louis, he’s eighteen years old, standing in the middle of a crowded frat house, six drinks down and another in his hand

glitter/gold series

here in the afterglow 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

if i should stay Louis is a television actor who suddenly needs a bodyguard. Harry is the bodyguard he ends up hiring.

210 days Harry is in the army and Louis is back in New York. Together, they get through Harry's six month leave by sending a series of letters back and forth. They've done it before, and they can do it again.

another hazy may louis is a terrible poet and harry lives in the now and they have six weeks to fall in love but, really, it only takes six seconds. bookshop meets military meets summer romance au ft. marlboros, the backstreet boys, and underrated literary devices.

a love like war the one in which Louis Tomlinson is a cliched rock star, he's got everything except for love. But then he meets Harry Styles; the man that, against all odds, saves him in every way a person can be saved, even when Louis didn't know he needed saving in the first place.

all the right moves This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

do not go gentle into that good night the one 1997 AU where Harry is a bank robber and Louis falls in love with him

fading Louis knows about beauty; the combination of qualities that pleases the aesthetic senses. He creates that combination every day in the garments he designs while studying fashion at uni. The cut of the design, the color of the fabric, the intricacy of the stitching; it all comes together to create something beautiful. When the science student with the long legs and dimpled smile agrees to model for him, Louis decides he’s found beauty personified. Harry just thinks Louis needs someone to show him how beautiful he is. (read the tags)

it’s in the love Harry is sorta punk and never stops staring at Louis.

and i know these scars will bleed Harry has anger issues and he meets Louis in a rehab center

love endless (the road to recollection) The year is groovy 1973, and eighteen-year-old Louis Tomlinson is perhaps the gayest teen to ever grace the gloomy, hateful town of Fortwright. Would be fine if he wasn't so viciously bullied at both home and school for such a "harmful" sexual preference.Yeah, yeah, we've all heard this story, haven't we? Believe him, Louis didn't think he was anything special either.Until he found the mansion. The notoriously haunted mansion hidden deep within the forests of his tiny blip of a town in Bumfuck Nowhere, Idaho. No one with a brain ever goes near it, but Louis could use a little excitement in his life...and possibly a Band-Aid or two.

autumn leaves Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

a life that we share (i owe it all to you) Harry's son get bullied until Louis' son shows up

adore you Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

never be The one where Harry Styles moves to Connecticut from England for nine months as a part of a study abroad program, and he just so happens to move in with Louis Tomlinson and family.

falling slowly Louis is a quiet and shy famous football player who has a secret obsession with fish and Harry is a photographer who talks enough for the both of them.

since i’ve found you Louis woke up on the morning he was meant to volunteer at the Feed the Homeless program at St. Mary's church hoping for an opportunity to give back a little to a city that has given him everything he could ever want. Little did he know, there was one more great thing waiting there for him; a boy with radiant green eyes in a weathered jacket and a beat-up backpack slung over his shoulders.

swim in the smoke “What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

but the world looks better through your eyes Harry loves to see him doing things he loves. Whether it's being on stage in front of a crowd of thousands, playing football, reading to his sisters, or rubbing Harry's feet (maybe not that last one) Harry lives for the moments he gets to see Louis so completely in his element. Because, while Louis doing something as simple as brushing his teeth is breathtaking to Harry, watching him practice his knee kicks in the backyard is almost otherworldly. Louis seems to glow from the inside out- still is, even in this bar- and Harry can never get enough. (also my best friend wrote this so you have to read it)

we’ll cast some light (you’ll be alright) There’s a standard procedure for this. Scan, track, kill. But with a solar eclipse and a Greater Demon with unfinished business looming, the path to keeping England safe from harm becomes complicated and shadowed by mystery and secrets. For Harry and his team, times have never been harder, especially when a few old friends turned foes show up. Harry is left with just over forty days to overcome the hurdle of tension between them and reconcile their past, and figure out just what Louis is hiding from him before it’s too late.

have fun & read responsibly

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harrysmeadow · 7 years

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HELD - CHAPTER 2

STORY PAGE // PLAYLIST

“Erin please” Izzy begged, her eyes no longer filled with tears but with concern, maybe for Harry as my simmering anger towards him was just about to boil over the edge. I released my grip on her hand which I realised had suddenly become a lot tighter. She raked her finger tips through her beautifully messy hair, slightly pulling it over to one side where it cast a shadow over her features. “We’ve talked about it, and figured it out please don’t bring it up again”.

CATCH UP HERE

The next morning I was rudely awakened by the sound of my phone vibrating on my bedside table. I let out a half groan, half whining cry as I flung my arm over my side trying to feel for it without actually having to open my eyes. I’d been looking forward to staying at my grandparents again. I liked being woken up slowly and peacefully by the natural light that seeped through the grotty old curtains. It was much better than the obnoxious iPhone alarm that drove me insane when I was at uni. I was definitely not a 9am girl.

After knocking over pretty much everything on the table I finally grasped my phone, pulled out the charging cord and brought it to my ear. “What!?” I spat. I hadn’t bothered to look at the caller id. Whoever thought it was a good idea to wake me up at this time was going have to deal with the wrath of early morning Erin. They deserved it for being so rude.

“Morning sunshine.” Izzy cackled down the line. I should have known. I slowly sat myself up and began to peel open my eyes, adjusting to the morning light.

“And what can I do for you at this fine hour?” I droned sarcastically.

“Well if you must know, my Mum, your Mum and Evie are going to finish their Christmas shopping in Manchester, and I know how much you don’t want to do that. So this is your formal invitation to Sam’s charity 5-a-side tournament at the playing field later. Basically your excuse not to go when your Mum asks you to go with them, which you know she will, mine’s already asked me, so consider this a warning, and your ticket out of it. I’ll text you the details, love you, bye!” She hung up.

I fell back onto the sheets dramatically with a huff, my head reeling from being thrown so much information in the space of about 30 seconds. I wasn’t even fully awake, but Izzy was right, there was no way I was being dragged around Manchester in the Christmas crowds, especially not with Mum and Evie in tow.

Placing my phone back on the night stand I stood up wearily, stretching out my limbs and wincing at the crack of my shoulders. I really need to stop sleeping in weird positions.

Grabbing my hair brush from my dressing table by the window I began to rake through my knotted hair. Gazing out into the garden, as the sun was coming up, a deep orange haze was beaming out over the fields and into the distance. The dim light from the rising sun appeared to touch every plant as the lingering raindrops on the leaves from the night before reflected the light. Suddenly I thought about Harry. How when he turned and told me he was sorry when he left last night, it was his smile that was bright enough to shine through the rain.

I trudged downstairs, my feet shuffling along the carpet as I was still half asleep and didn’t have enough energy to do anything properly, even walk. I winced when I stepped onto the cold tile floor of the kitchen and made a mental note to invest in some slippers while I was here.

“Morning Granny, morning Grandad.” I said while stifling a yawn.

They both looked up from their breakfasts with a smile on their faces. I loved my Grandparents more than anything in the world. I’d always had a great relationship with them, even if I only saw them once every two months. They never made me feel any less their Grandchild even though they saw Izzy and Sam every week. They loved unconditionally, and I loved them for it in return.

“Morning sweetheart. You’re up early, and we missed you come in last night. Are you ok?” Granny asked with concern as I padded over to the cupboard to grab a bowl and some cereal.

“You can blame Iz for both of those things” I laughed, sitting down opposite them at the table. Grandad passed me the milk jug as I began to explain the events of the previous night to them. I laughed along with them as I recounted my near death experience, but ended up having to constantly reassure them that I was fine and didn’t actually injure myself.

“Well, I’m just glad Isabelle got to see Harry for a bit, I think that must be the first time they’ve seen each other since they both left for university.” Grandad mused over his cup of tea.

Izzy and Harry were both freshers at uni this year. I knew Izzy had been finding the first term hard, she often randomly rang or texted me with questions or observations about university life. Although we fought sometimes, we also trusted each other 100%. I was in my second year of uni, so I was more than willing to help her try and settle in and give any advice I could. I hadn’t picked up on it at the time, but now that Grandad mentioned it, I realised that in all the times we talked she hadn’t brought up Harry once. Maybe they were having issues I didn’t know about, or maybe they were fine, and he just wasn’t relevant to the conversation we were having. Whatever it was, it seemed odd now.

“Yeah, I think it might be, Grandad.” I added, trying to think of a way to bring it up to Izzy later without making it seem completely obvious and really nosy.

****

I didn’t know how many matches I’d have to sit through in the cold December air, so when getting ready for the day I’d prepared for the worst. I pulled on my thick khaki winter jacket over my black jeans and oversized burgundy jumper. I’d made sure Izzy returned my brown leather boots before she went home last night. She’d handed them over reluctantly, but I promised her she could borrow them again if she swore not to ruin them. My tresses of mid length golden blonde hair were pulled into two loose french braids which peeked out from under a wooly beanie. A knitted grey scarf which was long enough to be wrapped around me twice hung over my shoulders and my gloves were shoved in my pockets, ready for the cold.

After an annoyingly long and drawn out conversation with my Mum, where she’d tried repeatedly to get me to go shopping with her, I finally managed to get away when I saw Izzy’s car pull up outside the living room window. I gave my mum a kiss on the cheek goodbye, wishing her a good time with Auntie Josie and Evie.

I heard both Izzy and Sam snicker to themselves as I jumped in the back seat. I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to entertain them with a comment because I knew exactly what they were going to say.

“They’re not playing the tournament in Iceland you know, Erin.” Izzy laughed. Here we go.

“Well don’t come running to me asking to borrow my scarf when you’re sat on the sidelines freezing your tits off.” I replied smugly. Izzy had always been one of those people to sacrifice her health for a good outfit. Unfortunately, that meant that during the winter months she was very prone to catching a cold because she refused to wear a suitable coat.

“I won’t,” she retorted. Izzy was also known for being extremely stubborn. So I knew now that later in the day even if her fingers were turning blue she wouldn’t come and ask for help. She rather be taken to hospital for hypothermia than get proven wrong and ask for a pair of gloves.

When we pulled up to the car park there were already many families there. A group of middle aged men, who I presumed were the organisers and referees, stood in a huddle in the middle of the field, all armed with clipboards and whistles. Some of the players who I recognised as some of Izzy and Sam’s friends from school were already warming up on the marked out pitches. The Mums and Grandmas had made their way to the kiosk and were making endless amounts of tea and coffee for the visitors.

I hopped out the car and pulled my scarf tighter around myself as the crisp December breeze whipped through the air. Izzy and I waved goodbye to Sam and wished him good luck for the day before heading off to get a drink before the tournament began. She linked her arm through mine and gave me a warm smile. “I’ve missed you.” she said softly, gently placing her head on my shoulder as we joined the back of the queue at the kiosk.

“I’ve missed you to.” I replied. It was the truth. No matter how many petty arguments we had, Izzy was always my best friend. She knew me better than anyone, even my friends back home in Leeds who I’d spent all my school years with. We just shared a special bond. No matter how long we spent apart we never stopped loving each other.

I looked down at where our arms intertwined and watched our matching dainty silver charm bracelets glint in the sunshine. I couldn’t help but smile as the ‘I’ charm on my bracelet and the ‘E’ charm on hers clinked together in the light breeze.

We’d been gifted the bracelets when we were only small children. One Christmas when we were maybe 5 or 6 Granny and Grandad had given them to us and we loved the idea that we matched. Every year we got a new charm and it was a tradition I knew I would never grow tired of. Granted, we’d had to have a few new links put in to accommodate our growing bones over the years, but I couldn’t remember that last time I hadn’t worn it.

After reaching the front of the line and paying for two cups of tea, we went to check the team boards to see which matches Sam would be playing in. The boards showed many names that I seemed to recognise from my visits to Holmes Chapel over the years and Izzy was quick to point out people she knew and promised to tell me embarrassing stories about them all later. I laughed at her bluntness as we trudged over to pitch number three where Sam was playing his first game.

We found a good place to watch from the sidelines just as the referee blew the starting whistle and the first touch was made. I spotted Sam straightaway, as he wasn’t hard to miss. In the past year he’d grown to be just shy of six foot tall, easily towering over Izzy and I; and he was nearly the same height as his Dad. His dark chocolate brown hair, the exact same shade as Izzy’s, was an annoyingly perfect mess on top of his head, hardly moving an inch as he ran across the field.

The ball landed at his feet and he began to sprint with it towards the goal. The other team’s defenders sprang into action ready to initiate a tackle. Sam, however, was quick on his feet and began to showboat around the opposition plays like it was nothing. Izzy and I cheered with the rest of the crowd as he broke free from the defenders and passed the ball into the box. The striker took aim and shot for the goal. Everyone around the pitch leaned in as the ball travelled towards the target. When the ball hit the back of the net after brushing past the fingertips of the goalkeeper, screams, shouts, laughter and applause erupted from the spectators.

Izzy and I screamed and hugged each other with glee while the goal celebrations continued. Sam’s team had come together in a group hug, but when they pulled back from one another I was shocked when I spotted Harry. How had I not seen him? Maybe I had been too engrossed with Sam’s showboating earlier, but nothing was taking my eyes off Harry now. His signature curly locks had been pulled back away from his face into a small bun, and a thin black headband was taking care of flyaways and baby hairs around his face. His chiseled features suddenly softened when he grinned back at his teammates, a small dimple appeared on his cheek and I wanted nothing more in than moment to run over to him and just prod it.

His toned arms which I’d had such a hard time taking my eyes off yesterday were on full display thanks to the short sleeved football shirt he was wearing. My eyes followed him as he jogged back lightly to his position, ready for the referees whistle. I think I was in shock from how broad he was; his back muscles looked like they wanted to rip through the thin material of the jersey hulk style.

I blinked rapidly as the sound of the whistle pulled me from my Harry induced trance. Dropping my head I sipped on my tea quietly before deciding this was a good a time as any to talk to Izzy about what Grandad had mentioned this morning.

“So, how was first term?” I asked tugging lightly on her jacket to gain her attention.

“Fine, it took me awhile to get settled in, I think” She shrugged in response, which was unlike Izzy in the first place, so I knew there was something else.

“You get on with your flatmates, yeah? You’re not having a hard time, are you?” My underlying need to protect her suddenly made an appearance.

She shook her head frantically. “Erin, honestly it’s fine; my flatmates are great. I dunno. I just; it doesn’t feel like home yet.” she replied. She wasn’t going to tell me anymore herself, I was just going to have to come right out and say it.

“Grandad said that you and Harry haven’t seen each other in a while.” I pressed cautiously. Her usual bright features shifted suddenly becoming sullen, I grimaced as her shoulders slumped, and she sighed.

“We got into a fight.” she admitted. “We’re fine now, but it was the first time we’d ever fallen out” she sipped at her tea, avoiding my gaze. All my life Izzy and Harry had been inseparable. I felt angry at myself. How did I not notice when she stopped talking about him? Why did she feel she couldn’t tell me about it? We told each other everything.

I took a deep breath, attempting to calm myself. “Why didn’t you say anything? What happened? You know you can talk to me about it, yeah?” I tried to repress my protective nature, which immediately made me want to blame Harry for whatever had happened. But I didn’t know what had happened. It wasn’t fair to assume. She’d just opened up to me, I didn’t want to smother her.

Another rowdy cheer jolted us both from the bubble we’d surrounded ourselves in when another goal was scored. Izzy took the chance to wiggle out of the conversation, whipping her head around back to the match and joining in the celebrations. But I needed her to tell me.

“Izzy, please.” I begged. Reaching down my fingertips brushed against hers as I moved to take her hand in mine. Her eyes dropped to where our hands met, both our bracelets twinkling in the sunlight. She sighed again before meeting my gaze.

“Fine.” she huffed. “But we’re ok now. We sorted it out, so there’s no need for you to go ape shit at him or me for that matter…”. I tried to laugh, but I wasn’t making any promises. If I found out he hurt her, I’d be drop kicking him into next week.

She turned to face me fully and took a deep breath before starting. “Basically it was fine at the start. We spoke pretty much every day, but I missed him. A lot. He’d been around me for as long as I can remember; I was just finding it hard not having him right there. I felt lonely. We ended up speaking less as the weeks went on, but he had a reading week at the end of October I think it was, and we’d planned that he’d come to see me for a bit before he went home for a few days. Then the day before he was due to come to Leeds to see me he said he changed his mind, that he wanted to go straight home. I was furious. He’d built my hopes up for him to just completely dismiss me as if I didn’t matter to him at all.” Her bottom lip began to tremble as she recounted the memories. I squeezed her hand reassuringly, letting her know it was ok to let it out if she needed to.

“I played it off to him like I was fine. But I wasn’t. I was so hurt that I was missing him so much when he evidently didn’t miss me at all.” A single tear made a path down her left cheek and it was taking everything in me not to storm onto the pitch right then and there and rip into him like he obviously deserved.

“It was the longest we’d gone without seeing each other and he chose to make it longer still.” She took another shaky breath before continuing. “Then I got a text from Sam saying he’d thought he’d seen Harry at the pub with his ex Aimee and was confused because he thought he was meant to be with me in Leeds.”

I was seething now. I didn’t claim to know Harry that well, but I didn’t think he could be so insensitive. They’d managed to go nearly 18 years of their lives as best friends without more than a few little hiccups, so whatever his reasoning was as to why he left Izzy, was completely beyond me.

“Erin, please.” Izzy begged, her eyes no longer filled with tears but with concern, maybe for Harry as my simmering anger towards him was just about to boil over the edge. I released my grip on her hand which I realised had suddenly become a lot tighter. She raked her fingertips through her beautifully messy hair, slightly pulling it over to one side where it cast a shadow over her features. “We’ve talked about it, and figured it out. Please don’t bring it up again”.

“Ok.” I breathed, and I clamped my mouth shut before any more words could escape. She was obviously hurt, and I didn’t want to add to that feeling. It was so unlike her to not want to talk, but I also didn’t want her to think she couldn’t trust me. I wasn’t being nosy; I just wanted to help.

****

It was edging on early evening by the time the tournament finished. Izzy and I stood huddled together at the side of the field with the rest of the day’s spectators as the final standings were about to be announced. The players sat in their teams on the field laughing and talking amongst themselves as the referees from each pitch checked over the results. I flinched suddenly as I felt an arm snake around my back and a hand being placed in my coat pocket. I looked over my shoulder where Izzy was snuggled into my right hand side, a slightly sheepish smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Obviously refusing to look at me, knowing she’d be faced with an ‘I told you so’ for not caring about the chilly weather earlier. She continued staring at the players in front of us while warming her fingers inside my coat. I shook my head and began to scan the crowd for Sam in the hopes we could make a quick exit once the standings were revealed.

I jumped slightly again when a presence on my left seemed suspiciously close. I began to turn my head slowly to see who it was, my shoulders slightly lifting in defense as I glanced at the person beside me. My eyes widened and I pulled back causing Izzy to stir.

“Dad, what the hell?” I exclaimed, confusion gracing my features.

“Hiya girls.” he chirped back. “Fancy the pub after this?”

“What?” I barked back, shaking my head again trying to understand how and why this conversation had come about.

“Do yo- “

I cut him off. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Yeah, I came this morning. You’d already left by the time I had, and I forgot to mention that I was coming last night before you left with Izzy for the airport.” He said nonchalantly.

“Right.” I said with a slight nod. “Yeah, whatever. We’ll come.” I agreed as the head coach blew a whistle to get everyone’s attention. We all turned back to face the group of men holding clipboards as the chatter around us quickly faded out.

“Thank you everyone for coming today.” His voice bellowed out over the crowd. “We hope you’ve had a fun day. Thank you for all your donations; they are greatly appreciated and from your help our teams will only get better. As you can tell we’ve got some very talented players in this area who I’m sure will go on to do great things.”

A round of applause broke out amongst the spectators and the players began patting each other on the back for their hard work. Sam and Harry’s team had played brilliantly all day, winning every game except one, and even then they drew one all. Izzy and I had followed them pretty much all day as they moved to different pitches to play the other teams.

My unanswered questions about Izzy and Harry were nagging away in my brain just waiting to slip off the end of my tongue. Try as I might to concentrate on something, anything else, it was hard when they were both in my eyeline all day. After we dropped the topic the first time around Izzy’s mood had picked up significantly, jumping for joy any time her best friend and brother made a good tackle or scored a goal. I couldn’t bring myself to tear her down again.

“All the lads played brilliantly today, but one team racked up a fantastic 25 points, with 8 wins and 1 draw. Team C are the champions!” Everyone erupted with celebration. Sam, Harry and the rest of their team sprung up from where they were perched on the grass and collided with each other in a group hug. Izzy and I jumped up and down in delight, whistling and cheering as they collected their medals from the head coach.

“They played great today, didn’t they?” I heard my Dad say from beside me.

“Yeah, they did.” I replied. “I still can’t believe you’ve been here all day, and we’ve not seen you until now.”

Izzy chuckled, “Yeah, Uncle Michael, have you been avoiding us?”

“No, but I’m starting to think I’ve discovered a new talent here. I think I should get MI5 on the phone; maybe they’re looking for a new spy?”

“Oh my God.” I said with a huff while Izzy stood cackling next to me.

Soon enough Sam jogged over to us and the day’s crowd began to disperse. “Right,” Sam said, clapping his hands and rubbing the palms together before bringing them to his lips to warm them with his breath. “Where we off to?”

****

The Cross Keys was located on a quiet country road just on the outskirts of Holmes Chapel, about a 15 minute walk from my Grandparent’s farmhouse. I’d spent many evenings here when visiting my Grandparents over the years. The landlord, Brian, had served my Mum, Dad, Auntie Josie’s and Izzy’s first ‘legal’ pints, and I’m sure when Sam turned 18 he would be more than willing to keep up that tradition.

Stepping out of Izzy’s car, the gravel driveway crunched underneath my feet as I walked up to the familiar building. Pulling on the old wooden door, I stepped inside sighing with relief as the warm air hit me. Black painted wooden beams hung low from the ceiling, the bar on my left ran along a wall to the back of the room and a small fireplace was built into the wall on the right.

I could feel the heat calling out to me when my finger tips tingled with the sensation of the quick temperature change. I made my way over to an empty table near the fireplace, ready for the warmth of the fire to seep into my skin. Izzy, Sam and Harry trailed behind me choosing their seats around the table.

Sam had invited Harry and his family to join us for tea at the pub as a kind of really mundane celebration for winning the tournament. The parents trudged in a few minutes later as my Dad had to make a round trip to pick up everyone from their houses.

Once everyone had said their hellos and caught up, people gradually started making their way up to the bar to order. I stood leant forward slightly into the countertop, drumming my fingernails on the wood, hoping to be the next person to catch the barmaid’s attention.

Someone cleared his throat beside me, and I knew who it was without even looking. I’d tried my best to avoid conversation with Harry as my new found information was still threatening to make an appearance. I turned and offered him a polite smile, not trusting myself to open my mouth without something spilling out that I wasn’t prepared for. So I turned my gaze back towards the waitress behind the bar.

“Are you ok?” He asked timidly.

“Yes.” I replied plainly, not turning to look at him again, praying the bartender would come over and save me from the inevitable interaction.

From the corner of my eye I saw him take breath as his shoulders dropped. It seemed to me almost a sigh of defeat, I didn’t think he was the type to give up so easily though, not after how driven and competitive I’d seen him be earlier today at the tournament.

“If this is about yesterday, I told you I was sorry. It was an accident. There’s no need to be in an arse about it,” he spat.

My eyes widened in shock, though I didn’t allow him the satisfaction of seeing my startled look, and I held myself as I was before. It was now my turn to calm myself with a deep breath. I found myself thinking back to my few memories of Harry as a child. I thought about how he seemed to be somewhat of shy little boy who followed Izzy round like a pet. Since then he’d obviously grown in confidence, seemingly enough to make him overtly rude and confrontational.

“It’s not about yesterday, and I’m not in an arse, Harry. I’m fine.” I replied as monotonously as I could manage.

“Well there’s clearly something wrong.” he persisted.

I was starting to lose my resolve, but I remained stood as I was, focusing on a random bottle of whiskey placed on the back of the bar. “No, there isn’t, Harry. I promised Izzy I wouldn’t mention it.”

“So there is something wrong.” I could hear the smirk. That was it. I turned round so harshly I pretty sure I nearly gave myself whiplash.

“Look Harry, I promised Izzy I wouldn’t bring it up, but you’ve brought it on yourself.”

Well….here comes the word vomit.

“You really upset her, do you know that? You know how much you mean to her and you just brushed her off like she was nothing.”

I really needed to learn some self control. Maybe I should try yoga?

“You didn’t even attempt to explain yourself, no measly excuse, you just left her alone thinking whatever it was you decided to do was better than just the idea of seeing her.”

I watched his face turn from shock, to confusion, to anger and then kind of an odd mix of all three. I tried to stop, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“You knew how alone she was feeling. You’re supposed to be her best friend when I’m not there, and you left her! She would never do anything like that to you, and you know it. If you’d told her in confidence how alone and vulnerable you felt, she would have been by your side in an instant. She would’ve dropped anything to make sure you were ok. You know she would. So why the fuck when she told you she needed you did you leave her on her own?!”

I’d always been the one to protect her, help her, comfort her, just be the person she needed me to be. But I couldn’t always be there physically when she did. Over the years I think I’d found comfort in knowing Izzy had Harry when she didn’t have me. But knowing he’d been the one to hurt her made me feel like I’d failed, like I somehow should have known that I shouldn’t have let him become this insensitive prat.

I hadn’t realised I’d started crying until I gasped because I was short of air and I felt the cold, salty water drip down my cheeks. I also hadn’t realised that during my outburst my voice had risen significantly, gaining the attention of all the local pub goers that afternoon. I glanced over my shoulder to the table where I’d left the group, seeing them all on their feet shifting uncomfortably. My eyes stopped searching when they found Izzy, whose gaze was locked on the boy beside me.

Well, well, well.... What do we think?? Please like and reblog if you’re enjoying the story I’d reality appreciate it! Also, come chat to me about it, I’d love to hear what you’re thinking!!! Much love 💕💕

#held #chapter 2 #let me know what you think!#hope you enjoy it!#harry styles fan fiction #harry styles au

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in-mutual-weirdness · 7 years

Text

Elsewhere University: Wayward

AN: First attempt at writing a thing in a long while. I have a weakness for fae stories and urban magic-y kind of scenarios, and @charminglyantiquated‘s universe here caught me hook, line, and sinker. Still, didn’t think I’d write anything for it, until the library scene popped into my head while I was procrastinating. Hope you enjoy what it’s turned into.

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When you were younger, your parents had impressed upon you the importance of going into the sciences.

“Be practical,” they said. “We have three sets of tuition to pay for. You can't waste time on art or philosophy. Love is all fine and noble, sure, but debt is not.”

Your original reaction had been a slowly growing resentment. Now, you're glad for it. You wouldn't touch humanities with a 10 foot pole now.

Oh sure, you're no automaton. You can appreciate people with an eye for theory, ink-stained fingers, or the aptitude for composition. A good portion of your friend group chose to study and create beautiful things. You love hearing about what they do, seeing the way their eyes light up and their words run away from them in sheer enthusiasm. But interspersed between their conversations about theater or lit class readings, you heard...other things. “Weird and inexplicable” didn't even begin to cover it. You finally put the pieces together in the spring of freshman year, after Sydney disappeared and everybody gathered to drink in memory and mourning.

It spooked the hell out of you. No two ways about it. Elsewhere University had a reputation for weirdness, for sure. You'd be lying if you said that hadn't swayed you in favor of attending in the first place. But this went past weird. “Weird” wasn't going to get you killed or kidnapped. The only thing keeping you from just transferring straight away was the impossibility of trying to explain it to your parents. And your grades weren't exactly gonna convince any other admissions office to let you in. Nowhere comparable, anyway.

So you coped in the ways you knew how. Reading all the guides you could get your hands on. Finding source folklore. Your choice of major had already stacked the cards in your favor. And while you still hung out with your arty friends, by sophomore year you'd found another group. A group more shielded from the weirdness. Where things could be normal and nobody thought to ask doppelganger questions or carry old screws in all their pockets. Except that one engineer lady, but far as you could tell, that was just a personal quirk.

And then school brought the hammer down on you.

You knew that college was gonna get tougher. But knowing didn't mean you were prepared. Those grades that had kept you from transferring came back to bite you. That creeping unease from Sydney hadn't gone away, and it was showing up in your work habits and shattered focus. You'd talked to the student health services people about it, and gotten nowhere. Scholarship money was on the line. The second round of exams was coming. And linear algebra was the first one.

You’d done your best to stay away from Elsewhere’s weirdness. But that didn’t mean you weren’t aware. You remembered what your humanities friends had told you. There were things you could do, loopholes you could exploit. Options, options, always options. If you were brave enough to take them.

And so here you are, venturing into the lower floors of the library.

You didn’t know many specifics going in, but you did know where to look. The bio majors Facebook page didn’t explicitly mention their library base camps, but the “Spelunkers Club” did, and had drafted a map to boot. The printout is sitting in your backpack, right now, sandwiched between notebooks. You’d wondered about their ability to diagram a non-Real, inconsistent space, but the solution made you laugh in shocked delight once you saw. While the shape of the shelves would change every six days or so, even a fae-touched library was militant about the Dewey decimal system. You spot the Fashion books (746.92) and make a right, nodding at a dude you recognize from your Psych class. He gives a weak thumbs up in response. Not somebody you'd expect to come here, but the psych lecture is the morning after the exam. If any of you vanish, it'll get reported quickly.

You move off a ways, finding a row of empty carrels against the wall. All identical, save one, whose lone desk light throws shadows around the walls. The rest of the row has their lights off, but you can hear the ambient shuffle of papers anyway. Best avoid those chairs, then. You pull out your ramen packs, selecting the saltiest variety (verified with a taste test, once. And never again.) The remaining 2/3 of the packets you scatter about the table, and stash back into your pockets. Should work.

You crack open your textbook and a bag of chips, and get started.

Time passes. The sound of your pages joins the general rustling. The clatter of laptop keys cuts through intermittently. You pull out your phone to google a definition and glance at the clock--apparently it thinks you’re in Dubai. Well, at least there’s proof that the time dilation here is actually a thing. Or just that it screws with your electronics. You make decent progress through some of the practice problems, but stall whenever you hit the theorems. That's algebra for you. A lot of numbers and graphs and definitions that use letters like they're words you should understand. You don't. Which is why you're even in this part of the library right now.

It takes you a while before you realize that no letters make sense anymore. You're still thinking in English- at least, you're pretty sure it's still English. But now even the chapter headings in your textbook look merely like shapes. It might just be delirium. That's the reasonable conclusion. You’d downed your second can of Red Bull just trying to keep your eyes functioning. But...

On impulse, you try to write your uni name. (Not your real name, you're not stupid. Just panicky.) Descartes. Cogito ergo sum, and all that. It comes out successfully, but it's entirely due to memory. Making the individual letters takes as much effort as if you were writing them backward, every curve meticulously plotted and traced.

Your circle is undisturbed, thankfully. But the shuffle of pages has stopped. Wind howls from beyond the walls, and the shelves creak like old floorboards. For a moment you wonder about the psych kid. It's a moment too long. You see something move out of the corner of your eye, when you look back toward where he was.

Don't move. Nothing’s there.

Except the Red Bulls are doing a number on your system, and even though you were never the wordy sort you'd still like your language back, thanks, and even if you wanted to leave your suddenly too-small circle and brave your way back to the campus proper, that exam would still be there.

The memory of your GPA curdles your fear into anger. “I thought we were the kind of people you'd leave alone,” you snap, turning to yell over your shoulder. Your voice climbs an octave as you start to rant in earnest. “What's the deal? I'm a STEM major. Doing math. Algebra. You don't even like algebra.”

“Mayhaps,” comes a voice from behind the shelves. “Numbers and Logic are mortal things, it’s true. But you are not a number. You just work with them.”

“And other things,” you reply. You strain your eyes into the dark, frozen in your half turn, but the shelves reveal nothing. Whatever’s out there doesn’t sound like it wants to approach. Probably. Your brain is racing, just barely outpacing your heart. “What do you--is there something you desire from me?”

“Presumptuous.” There’s a cicada-like buzz behind the voice. It makes you picture some kind of massive chitin-plated thing waiting just out of view.

“I meant no presuming. Uh.” Your tongue ties itself in knots to avoid the word “sorry.” It’s surprisingly hard to come up with less dangerous words. “Tell me where I went wrong and I shall try to avoid repeat offense?”

The hum continues. It's starting to sound like laughter. Your spine shivers like a loosened spring. “I want nothing of yours, pupa. What use could I have for it?”

You're pretty sure that question is rhetorical, and if it wasn't, any answer you could give would only endanger yourself. “Then if that’s so, we may move on with our lives. I’m sure you have your own stuff to- to attend to.” You try to muster up enough courage to turn back to your desk.

“I don’t understand. My current business is talking to you.” The thing- the Visitor’s legs skitter about around the shelves, its voice circling around. It better not be getting closer. “You’re proving a rather difficult conversation partner. Most im-po-lite.”

“I did not come here expecting conversation,” you say, uneasily. God, you want out. You shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. You never know who’s listening. “I came here to study, nothing more. That’s where my lack of grace comes from, uh, good fellow.”

“Odd, that you should stroll right into somebody’s front parlor and not be prepared for conversation.”

That can’t be right. That can’t be. The map- You turn the chair fully around and reach over to your backpack, before pulling back at the last minute. Can you even show that to a fae? Is that allowed? You wrack your brain for details, and keep coming up blank. Meanwhile, your Visitor- or Host, perhaps, as the case may be now- waits patiently beyond. “I was told that this was neutral ground where I could complete my work undisturbed,” you say, finally. Your hands rest on your lap now, fingers aching from where you gripped the swivel chair armrests. “I was told that this was public ground.”

“Misinformed trespass is still trespass, hatchling.” Their tone of voice doesn't change, but something in the cadence of it makes your hand stray toward your ramen packs. “You've wandered across my threshold and barred the door. Surely even you know what that means.”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You raise your hands in a placating gesture. “I understand. I will-” Die? Get Taken? Tell the Spelunkers that their map is a piece of shit and they need better cartographers? “I will leave and remove the salt circle. I will find where the actual neutral zones are and leave your domain alone and not trespass on it again. And...”

And? Your brain insists that something is missing, but by now all you want to do is flee and never come back. “And yeah. Does that sound reasonable to you?”

There's a different sort of clicking now. It sounds like pincers. You swallow back the lump of shuddering fear and wait for their answer. The entire section of the library is quiet except for that awful sound. “Usually there are reparations for an offense such as this. But...” Oh God oh god what does it want now. “I see that you've already lost something. That would normally go to the offended party. But I have no use for your words. Go then, pupa.”

It’s already started to skitter away when you’ve finished processing what it said. “Wait!” You even reach out toward the shelves, almost tripping out your chair onto the salt circle. Your legs are practically wobbly enough to wriggle out of your own jeans. “My- the words! English. Do you have my words?”

“They say external ears are better for hearing. I think they're mistaken.” You don't have time for its coy amusement, but it has even less time for overt demands and careless students. You grit your teeth and wait. “I have no need of your words. But I know how to get them back. I could retrieve them for you, even. But, that would be a favor.” You catch a glimpse of something between a gap in the shelves and you look hurriedly away. There's only leather spines and library labels. There's nothing else worth looking at over there. “And I don't give those out readily, even to those who haven't offended me. That is my offer. You know what to do, pupa.”

Trade nothing you cannot afford to lose. But you've already lost- You screw your eyes shut and count to ten, in half-remembered high school Italian. Uno, due, tre... You get to “cinque” before you switch into Spanish by accident. Right. A peace offering. You look at your desk, at your backpack, glance down at your pockets.

Only one option stands out to you.

You pick up the map and throw it out at the room with a flick of the wrist. “Here,” you say, as it drifts down just outside of the yellow-y line of flavor powder. “A map. Designed by the best cartographers of my age.” In a manner of speaking. “Knowledge for knowledge. Use it to secure the borders of your domain.” You reach for your notebook, and while you can't read what it says, you recognize the formatting of the list. “Here is a copy, in my own writing. It is as a contract. Take it as confidence that I will learn and know the borders here, and not cross them, ever.”

There's a rush of movement and suddenly something with more legs than you can really perceive lunges out from behind the shelves. You can't help the scream of terror. (Nor the stream of pee either. Caffeine, what a diuretic.) The sheer speed of it blows your hair back, as if you were standing on a subway platform by an oncoming train. When it’s passed back into the shadows, you look down at your feet. The circle hasn’t moved at all.

“Do not let anybody say I am not fair,” it says. “I always give back equal to what is given in turn. You can have your letters back. I grant you 24 hours of grace period inside this building. That should be more than enough to settle whatever affairs you need to in here. Good morrow, pupa.” It slinks back into the library, the click of its legs blurring together like the sound of pouring sand. Once more, the only sound is from the phantom students on either side of you.

You collapse back into your chair, barely able to move. Thankfully, whatever that fae did seems to have worked. You can read your notes, and even the textbook again. The adrenaline rush of it all has thrown everything into sharp relief. You write with abandon, blasting through proofs and problems alike with new vigor. When you finally leave and walk back out into the late evening sun, you stumble back to bed and nearly sleep through your alarm. But the exam, after that ordeal, feels like a doctor’s visit. Longer than you wanted and a bit uncomfortable, sure. But nothing worse than that.

Psych dude doesn’t show up the next lecture, but you do see him during the break. Probably just came in late. You do that too, you know the feeling.

It isn’t until that weekend, when the exam comes back with a grade better than you could reasonably expect, that you get antsy.

When a about a row’s worth of people don’t show up to your systems biology midterm the week after, you upgrade to worry.

You really wish you could say that you contacted the Spelunkers Club before their page got shut down. (Part 2?)

#elsewhere university #fae #fairies #IMW #charminglyantiquated #elsewhereuniveristy

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chasingchescaroberto-blog · 6 years

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Day 47

Dont read read this if you aren’t on your own and you can’t call me afterwards. We’ll need to speak. I love you, I’m sorry if it’s a lot to handle.

You want to know everything and this is my heart I’m about to pour out. The story of me, before all of this stuff happend I was similar to how I am now I suppose. It’s been a a long journey but I really feel that I am where I need to be. What I think you need to understand first of all is that the first two girls who I really was ever with fucked me over. I was cheated on, I was emotionally ruined by both of them. After that I became quite against the idea of relationships because I was hurt essientally, I hated the way that felt and didn’t ever want to be in a position where someone could do that to me again. So following that I just tried to sleep with anyone really, this is before Uni btw. There was no love in my life just lust and disregard. Then you came along. I resisted us. I remember saying to you, if we go out then one of two things happen, we marry or we break up, that’s the only outcomes of this. I said break ups hurt and wouldn’t want to feel like that again. So as the months went by my resisted faded. I let your love in and I gave you mine in return. I was happy again.

Then came Euan. Just like I will never understand the pain I have put you through. You will never understand what I felt like. I never said to you that I blamed myself for him dying, apart from when I was drunk I guess. Following that I found the dead body. Now I know at the time I seemed ok, but our relationship was doing really well and I was enjoying it. I would never have been able to cope if I hadn’t spent so many nights with you. I didn’t tell you this at the time, I didn’t say I feel like I’m lost at sea, I just don’t like to cry. But I guess looking back I should have. In this year my auntie almost died on the operating table and I was assaulted at work, but men don’t worry they just get on with it, that’s what we’re told, so that what I did.

This is where the escapism was born out of, I just wanted to escape how I was feeling, and being travelling I saw as a way to do that. There was no goal, just to escape. Around this time you asked me ‘where’s this relationship going’ and all of a sudden I was terrified. I no longer had control of anything. I was scared that if we didn’t work out I couldn’t take it, I couldn’t take any more pain. So after Sziget I just withdrew myself, I used America as a way to create distance and tried to make you hate me. I thought it’s good if she hates me, because she will block me out. I know this is all so stupid btw but I wasn’t me.

Then third year began, we hugged on the corner and we cried. Without dealing with any of my issues I begged you to take me back. But then my third placement started and it was so hard and so tiring. I was so anxious all the time because I was convinced I wasn’t good enough. I thought if I fail this everyone will hate me. This is where the self confidence and self neglect really started. I ignored all of our issues from the past and tried to move on without dealing with them. I didn’t want to leave the house really. Every day I was jumping straight to the worse case scenario, thinking something in my life is going to go wrong. This time I broke us up to protect myself and you again. I said goodbye at your bedroom door, I didn’t want to leave that day either, I had just convinced myself that it was what we needed. Through everything I have spoken about so far I had not been emotionally stable for a long period at any point, so many highs, too many lows.

Now the end of Uni was coming, I was fucking terrified of what was going to happen next, our relationship had gotten worse. I showed myself no attention, I showed you no attention. You were the only one who could have changed my mind but I never opened my mouth and spoke. I just ignored my feelings and carried on scraping through the end of the year. I saw you on the last day in tears. I couldn’t figure out how we could make thing better again while I felt like this. I lay in the my bed in my bare and empty room, that’s when I had hit my lowest. I sent you that text, the worse thing I had ever done and went into the bathroom. I sat in the shower for what felt like hours. I felt so alone but that’s how I wanted to feel, I don’t know why it had come to this but I did feel like I was letting you free. What saved me really was Ed coming back, he pulled me through. I made it home and started to rebuild.

Now I know I missed out the part where I slept with her. But I can’t stress enough how cold and unpleasant that was. I just wanted to escape all my guilt, I thought it could help. I felt nothing and still don’t towards that person. They are gone from my life and it’s always going to be that way. It won’t be a shadow that looms over us.

I was doing a lot better and actually started to feel like I could achieve something again. I got a well paid job and sorted somewhere to live. I was still thinking about you every day, but I hadn’t sorted myself out completely. We connected again because of the playlist but in truth I wasn’t ready. As soon as I moved there was so much going on, I couldn’t piece things together with us. I wasn’t over the pain and I don’t think either of us were. I shouldn’t have started things before the move, but I was so scared you would drift too far and end up moving on falling in love and I would lose you forever. I was incredibly selfish. I hadn’t decided what I was going to do when you made my mind up for me. You texted me and I could tell I had broken you again, I stared at that text for three days or so. Now I was just heartbroken as I’m sure you were too. But what it triggerd in me was a need to change. I was never going back to the version of myself I hated. I started trying in all aspects of my life, and it’s paid off in such a big way. I looked back at everything and decided what I wanted. I wanted love, with honesty, with someone I was best friends with, with someone who I could share all what I have achieved and what I want to achieve with me. To get this I knew I needed to improve everything, this is why is started the gym and the guitar, the change In diet. I tried to become the person I want to be. 5 months of no contact allowed me to get my emotions reset, the only thing left was the playlist and you had stopped adding to it. I was and always have been in love with you. I pictured our reunion every day, but I was scared of even trying to reach out to you. Because the rejection could send me back to a dark place. Then we spoke again, and I have made the agreement with myself. This the final chapter of this story, I will do all I can for the person I share my with to be you. Because to me you are perfect, not just the way you look, through to the soul you are everything that is pure and beautiful to me. I’m sorry for everything but I’m not sorry that I’ve always loved you.

Now I am open, completely vulnerable. I have given up the control I always crave, I have let everything in to try and show you that you have all of me. You have my heart. What’s weird is that even though I am anxious about what you are thinking every day, terrified that I won’t feel your touch again, I am at peace. I know this is what I want. That is satisfying, I have come this far and I have found the answer to why I want with my life. An adventure with the person I love the most, I want to share everything with you, take us to the edge of the world and back, back to our cosy house. I close my eyes and I can see my ideal future.

I know this might all have seemed so negative but that is because I have explained the downside of my life during this period. I don’t look back and think what a shit time we had. I have some of the best days of my life with you. I just want everything that goes from now to be fun and natural. I am free of my past self, ‘mean Jack’ he’s gone. I won’t ever mistreat a woman I am with ever again, I won’t do anything I think would hurt you. Scars still need to heal, but I know I can nurse your heart back to health. We will be better than we ever were before, because now you have me 100% commited, no emotions pulling me down, no guilt of lost friends, just me. Now I am better than any version of me that you have known. You make me so happy and I just want I fill my life with that happiness. I haven’t seen you in 2 months and my love just grows anyway. For me everything is different now, but there a two sides to this story. Just as sad as each other’s. I just pray that I’m not too late, that too much damage has been done.

You wanted to know, now you do. I know you are going to be upset reading this. But understand none of this was your fault, I don’t think you will blame yourself but I want to make that clear. I take full responsibility for my actions, you didn’t deserve what I have done to us. Just pleas let me show you how perfect life can be, if you take my hand I won’t make you regret it.

From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. I will never break this promise, that I will ever do any of this shit to you again. I know myself too well to let it happen. I’m In love you Jessica Robertshaw, and I always will be

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youwish1043 · 6 years

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Fan fiction because I can’t help myself... pt 1

******Hey guys, so many of you know that I have recently been obsessed with Reylo from the new Star Wars TLJ and I can’t help it but I made a modern AU where they go to college. I’m looking to add it to archive your own but for now as I work out the kinks I decided to put it on here. This is my first fan fiction ever but whatever I’m excited*****

All she could see was fog. Gray masses of billowing clouds blocking out the sun, rolling over the hills like rivers on mountains. It was like she was flying over head like a bird, zooming so fast that she could hear the wind whoosh in her ear, but she wasn’t cold. That was one thing she knew for sure. She felt warm, as if she was basking in light.

Finally a break in the clouds, sunlight still a milky gray. Green. Darks and lights, trees filling the landscape. Grasses long and swaying in the wind. Ocean spray splashing up the cliffs, some hitting her face.

A bird chirping in the distance. Constantly in rhythm and non stop. Louder and louder the bird screeched making her ears hurt.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Rey sat up in bed hair standing at weird angles. Sleep crusted her eyes as she yawned wiping drool from her mouth.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Her alarm clock blared at her with an annoying vengeance. Rey whipped her hand out so fast it practically flew into the wall by itself. To her dismay, it still screamed at her. She stood up stretching and turned it off. Her eyes came to focus on the time.

8:00am.

Krrft. She was late for class.

She threw her hair into a messy bun. She pulled on a white tee shirt and her draped beige sweater with dark blue jeans and boots. Enough effort that no one would ask why she hadn’t showered. She darted across the full length mirror so she wouldn’t see the end result and be tempted to change.

Closing the door behind her quietly so she didn’t wake her roommate up, she briskly walked into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She rounded the corner and stopped when she saw him sitting on their breakfast bar stool. He was hunched over cereal, his chin propped up by one hand and absently shoveling milk and soggy flakes into his mouth with the other. His brown hair always a perfected messy with brown gold eyes to match, which currently were dark rimmed from lack of sleep.

Poe Dameron.

“Jesus Christ who keeps letting you in?” she asked packing her backpack with her laptop and homework from the night before, needing to move his bowl to collect it all.

He looked over and winked in his flirtatious way. His clothes from the day before were wrinkled from sleeping on the couch.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t love having me”

Rey rolled her eyes as she grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl. “You could at least chip in for food. Between you and Finn it’s like living with my six foster brothers all over again” She exclaimed making a mental note that she needed to get Finn to stop letting Poe in.

Rey had come to Uni to try to live out her dream to be an Art Designer. Since she was little she had always been gifted in any creative arts, constantly on the move for more outlets. When she was finally old enough she moved away from her foster family she came to school. Since she was the only freshman on campus with an apartment, her place had become the hot spot for students to come hang out, which as of late meant Poe.

Finn was a Law student who had some serious dreams of becoming an Actor. Although he went to school for his parents sake, he had taken on more classes in acting then Law hoping that taking enough would convince his family that it was an okay career change.

Finn had also been her new orientation buddy when they first arrived a couple months ago, and when Rey found out his girlfriend Rose didn’t have a place to go, she offered her other room to her. Although it was to help Finn and Rose, Rey needed any help she could get with bills, and was a benefit to them all.

Ever since, it was like having four roommates. Wherever Finn went so did Poe since they had been best friends for years, and well the rest was history. Rey didn’t mind having them all there even though she complained about it, it was nice to not be alone all the time. The grocery bill WAS piling up though.

“Remind me to kill Finn later. Tell Rose I will be back for dinner!” Rey called out as she ran to the door trying to throw her backpack on.

“Bye babe!” Poe called out

“I’m not your babe!” Rey yelled back slamming the door behind her.

She hopped on her bike leaning back letting her legs do the work as she balanced along without hands. She peeled back the banana devouring it down before class, Professor Snoke was not one you wanted to mess with.

She sped across campus already sweating. Although it was technically February, the Arizona heat stifled her. She hated the desert, and hated Arizona even more. If it wasn’t for her scholarship, she would have gone anywhere that had more green than just her salad plate.

Although her scholarship helped pay for school Rey had to work her butt off to make enough for rent and school bills. It was the price she had to pay to go to a good art school.

Sweat dropped down her back. Yeah, she hated Arizona even if it did have a great art school. And here she was trying to use the least amount of effort so she didn’t walk into class like an Olympic sized pool of sweat.

The campus, although in the desert was beautiful. This Uni had fountains, flowers and art pieces lining the walkways. Trees planted to shade students from the sun as they walked to class. The windows of most the buildings a colorful stain so that when the sun shined through, the school was under the shadow of millions of rainbows. This is the part she could live with, watching light.

She rolled up to her classes building locking her bike outside and throwing her banana peel away. She trotted up the steps colliding with a student whose books were stacked higher than his head. The books flew in every direction, notes scattering across the cement. The red headed kid fell backward with a grunt as Rey danced around trying to catch the papers from flying.

“I am so sorry! I had no idea you were coming out the door!” She yelled jumping to grab the last paper. She bent to pick up the nearest book to her when a pale hand swatted her away.

“Fuck off” She looked up to see Hux. He was another student at Uni that seemed to be disgruntled with anyone he came across. She and him has bumped food trays at the school’s diner once and ever since then he seemed especially spiteful of her. She didn’t know what he studied, but she knew he never left anywhere without a pile of books.

“Ex- excuse me?” She stared at him in disbelief.

“Do you know how much time it took to color coordinate these notes with the books! I have a final in a week! Now I am going to fail!” Hux screamed out.

She stared at him a moment longer as he gathered up his books. Screw it. She set the notes she gathered next to him and finished running up the steps to class.

If Hux is going to be an ass I don’t have to help him she thought to herself trying to settle the guilt rising in her stomach.

She came up to her classroom barreling through the door hard enough that it swung back smacking the wall with a loud bang. The lecture hall was large, seats slowly rising up so that it could fill 500 per class. Her class however only was about 50, scattered among the sea of dark blue fabric seats, but felt like 500 when all their eyes flashed to her.

Rey could feel her cheeks redden at the attention muttering out a soft sorry closing the door behind her. When she turned again her eyes snapped to Professor Snoke, a tall but fragile looking man. He was pale enough that his veins scattered his skin like bruises, his long face shadowed and gaut. He was intimidating in look as well as voice.

“Nice of you to join us Rey” His dark menacing voice reverberated around the auditorium. Rey felt herself shrink back, her blush deepening to an almost purple red.

“So-sorry S-Sir” She stammered as she skipped up a couple steps to sit in the fifth row of seats hoping it was far enough that Snoke’s eyes wouldn’t linger.

“By all means waste all of our time” Snoke said as his eyes slithered along with her movements. Once she sat down he continued with his lesson.

Rey settled in her seat bringing out her laptop to take notes shrinking farther in her seat so that her face was covered by the screen. If Snoke didn’t take attendance she wouldn’t even show up to this class. It was her Astronomy 101 class, a necessary general education class that this Uni required.

She loved the class, even if it did make you show up one night a week to look through the telescope to match up constellations with the work they were doing. She always had a fascination with the stars, always intrigued her that there could be so much out there besides where she lived.

Lost in thought she almost didn’t hear the clearing of a throat next to her. In her abrupt entrance she didn’t realize she had actually sat directly next to another student. She looked over to see a tall raven haired man. Must have been in his late twenties, lean muscles and long legs that touched the back of the chair in front of him. His hair was touching his shoulders and looked smooth and shined.

His eyes a soft brown that she could swim in for hours, his hair falling into his eyes enough that he ran a hand through it to move it out of the way. She watched fascinated as his muscles seemed to ripple from the movement. He wore a black cotton tee with dark jeans, simple but suited him well.

She hadn’t realized she was staring until he cleared his throat again. “What?” she asked coming out of a daze.

The raven haired man had a ghost of a smile at her response, “ I said quite an entrance” his voice running over her like silk. She shook her head, how was this guy having such an affect on her.

“ Classic me” her words dripping with sarcasm. The raven haired man’s smile grew to a smirk, something Rey couldn’t help but think was rare for him.

“I’ve noticed” He said turning back to the front of the class obviously a good student. She couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her chest at his words.

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