#I suppose the solos are all over this saying he's shading harry

[statementlou]

The One Direction ones honestly, well there's two things… I have like certain songs that I like more than others in the One Direction stuff but then.. what's been a challenge at times is... let's just take maybe the cheesiest of our songs, right, let's just take a What Makes You Beautiful- you kinda have to do that as it was, I couldn't reinvent that and make it [huge air quotes] "cool," I don't really think it exists in a cool realm or something like that you know it's a slightly different thing

--Louis talking about maybe adding a different 1D song to the set for the upcoming tour leg

[merryloumas]

🌿 Take Me Higher Than I've Ever Been by crimsontheory @ireallysawanangel [51k]

Harry is pretty simple. He goes to work everyday, comes home, then watches Netflix with his cat. And if he happens to have a tiny little crush on his coworker, then that’s just his own business.

🌿 Crave** by dimpled_halo @comebackassholes [90k]

All eyes are on Louis Tomlinson to bring new talent to save Hanover Records from the mess the previous executive left behind. His newest artist, Harry Styles, is charismatic and everything Louis needs to revive the label. It’s up to Louis and his team to make Harry the star he was born to be. When Harry and Louis come face to face, it isn’t the first time they’ve met, and their worlds are about to be turned upside down.

🌿 Young Gods by sincewewereeighteen [77k]

“Why don’t you stay?” Harry looked down at him and snorted. “What?”

“You’re not my type, Louis”, the boy rolled his eyes sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his boots.

“Says the man you just had sex with”, Louis pointed feeling smart, but Harry was one step ahead of him, with the answer on the tip of his tongue.

“You see, if you were my type, I wouldn’t have”, Harry winked, cheeky as hell. “I would’ve gotten to know you first.”

“Bullshit”, he accused the boy not letting it show how intrigued he was. “How can you know I’m not your type if you don’t know me?”

“How about I list five things about you to prove I’m right and if any of them are false I’ll lie down again.”

“Ok. Go.”

the one in which Louis is a model and Harry's supposed to be a normal guy... Until he isn't

🌿 School Of Extraordinary Lovers by @stylinsoncity [191k]

harry is a third-year witch and violinist at Laitswold, the only magical academy in the UK, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens.

🌿 One Last Time by @smittenwithlouis [24k]

“I mean it, Harry, this is the last time,” Louis breathes out as Harry kisses down his neck.

“Sure,” Harry mumbles into his heated skin.

The action makes Louis shudder. He hates how good it feels. He knows he should be revolted. Disgusted. But god does it feel so damn good.

Or: Louis is a werewolf, and Harry is a vampire. They’re supposed to hate each other, but they’re too busy fucking to care.

🌿 Where I Burn To Be by pleasinglouis @pleasing-louis [143k]

“That’s right. I do own the skies. And you wanna know why?” he sneered. Without his boots on, Louis was a fair bit shorter than Harry, his eyes pretty much level with Harry’s chin and his socked toes bumping into the boots of the other man, close enough that Louis could make out the tiny scar on Harry’s brow and the individual shades of emerald in his irises. He was handsome, but that only made Louis hate him more. Heart thumping heavily against his sternum and his hands balled into fists, Louis lifted his chin defiantly and plastered a coldhearted smirk across his lips. “Because I’m the best goddamn pilot here.”

aka the Top Gun AU

🌿 Like A Melody In My Head by sarcasticinfluentry [60k]

A college marching band AU in which Harry is just trying to get through his first semester of college while pining over the hot drum major, Louis is trying to ignore his feelings for a certain curly-haired freshman, Zayn is trying to become less guarded, Liam is trying to be patient, and Niall is trying to make his dad proud.

🌿 Now You Know Me (For Your Eyes Only) by nadinecestmoi [77k]

au where harry and louis are solo artists and they’re not exactly friends per se but they’re friendly, know each other from industry parties and things like that and there’s always been this weird unspoken sexual tension between them and louis’ always kinda confused bc isn’t harry the biggest ladies’ man in the industry?? and one day harry asks louis to collab with him and of course louis says yes even tho he’s kinda surprised and harry plays the song for him and louis is completely blown away by how beautiful it is and it’s a love song and he’s like damn whoever this is about is lucky as fuck bc it’s clearly written from personal experience so they spend all this time together recording and it’s super bittersweet bc they click right away and it takes louis about three seconds to realize he has a huge fucking crush on harry but on the other hand harry clearly had someone in mind when he wrote the song so the last day of recording comes and louis’ like “thanks for having me on the song” and harry just shrugs and is like “well it just seemed fitting bc the song is about you”

🌿 Cold As Ice by larryspillows [76k]

Two famous boys, one passion. Two hearts, one home: the ice.

Or, an ice skating ff where the two most famous skaters in the world are forced to skate at the same rink. The only problem: They hate each other. What could go wrong?

🌿 take my hand (and my heart and soul)** by bananasandboots @anylessreal [45k]

The one where Harry hasn't spoken to his best friend in sixteen months and can't remember why.

Total Fics Read: 10

** rereads

[aquaticstyles]

unchained

A while ago I was asked for a “Have You Ever Been In Love” sequel, and while this is probably not the direction you guys were expecting, this is what I came up with. Also, this one’s (loosely) inspired by the song “Scott Street” by the lovely Phoebe Bridgers (highly recommend listening to the spotify sessions version while listening). Fun fact, for forever I misheard the lyrics, thinking she was saying “unchained” instead of “ashamed.” After noticing that I have, in fact, been wrong this entire time, I realized I kinda liked my version better (sorry Phoebe). And, me being me, I ran with it and it spun into this quick, 1.4k part two. Reblogs + feedback help so much! Enjoy!! xx, Jane 

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry’s heart stops.

The question catches him off guard, and not just because he’s not used to interviewers asking such personal ones (he guesses this is what he signed up for when he agreed to be the first male flying solo on the cover of Vogue). It makes his heart stop because of his answer, because of the woman that had once asked him the same exact question.

Harry has never been one to linger in his sadness; he finds it unproductive, and quite honestly, completely depressing. After a break up, one can find the caramel-colored curls belonging to the world’s latest phenomenon sweating out his sorrow, or frustration, at the gym, pounding the boxing bag again and again and again. “Nothing another set can’t fix,” his trainer, Mike, would often tease the man in denial, knowing good and well by his posture upon entering the ring, slumped shoulders and an ever-present crease between his eyebrows, that another one had bit the dust the night prior. Mike had learned fairly quickly to never ask questions, to simply let Harry work out his emotions as he pleases, even if that means letting him walk out with wrapped fists masking throbbing, crimson knuckles.

Harry has never been one to talk about his sadness either; he finds it prolongs the pain rather than diminishing it, an annoying gnat swarming around an abnormally large bite from a crisp apple, halting his progression in enjoying his afternoon snack because he just can’t catch the bloody thing. His sister has tried to break him from his stubborn ways, even resulting to getting the lanky man drunk off tequila in hopes of him finally opening up about his incessant missed targets; however, that only ever ends up with Gemma’s arms holding up the giggling teddy bear and folding his bulky body into a taxi, mimicking cramming a cotton ball into a straw. Therapy was suggested and waved off with an inked palm, because if he doesn’t want to talk to his sister about it, how on earth is he supposed to talk to a stranger?

Never-ending claims of “I’m fine,” and “It just didn’t work out,” and “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” and “It wasn’t even that serious.” Sure, each breakup took a little something out of the man that insisted he was “fine,” but eventually, a couple dozen inked journal pages later, Harry would be back to his normal, happy-go-lucky, perfectly-kind self.

All of these rang true for most of Harry’s young adulthood.

All of these were common occurrences, that is, until Harry met you.

You were unlike anyone he had ever met. Selfless, but not in an over-bearing, walk-all-over-me kind of way. Funny, but not in an underlying-hatred, fake-laugh kind of way. Genuine, but not in a look-at-me, fake kind of way. Honest, in a I-want-to-know-everything-that-makes-you-you, ask-you-questions-until-the-sun-rises kind of way. Drop-dead-gorgeous in the most unbelievable, glowing, ethereal, kind of way that he constantly reminded you of. You were the perfect balance, the missing diamond to even out the coal on the other end of the scale.

Loving you felt like the ocean.

In the morning when there’s a hazy screen covering your lenses, clouding the soft sunlight in a muted, white-washed filter. It’s more gray, yet still golden as the shining mass of fire lazily rises from its slumber. It’s calm, clouds stretched apart like cobwebs in the faded blue sky above, waves leisurely, almost too relaxed, crashing along the bleached shore then disappearing back into the horizon. Still sleepy, still new, an entire day ahead of you.

In the afternoon when the sun is at its highest and hottest, radiating down ultraviolet rays that burn your skin, causing alarmingly red shoulders in need of aloe that soon progressively heal and turn into a bronzed exterior. Speckles of light dancing upon excited waves, similar to a neighborhood of children dressed in pink polka dots and orange overalls running towards the ice cream truck filled to the brim with dreams of sugary stomachaches. It’s saturated, every color its brightest and loudest, pops of cerulean and coral. It’s a blanket of comfort, a suffocating scarf. It’s sweet. It’s sour. A cool glass of lemonade sinking into a bed of quicksand. Annoying and astonishing.

In the night, when the yellowing presence is long gone in the awakening of the moon, the deepest indigo swirling in between pockets of stars dotted and flecked into the atmosphere like freckles. It’s black and blue. You don’t know where the earth stopss and the water begins, familiarity lost as the waves erase each new footprint in the sand. The tide is an abuser, sweet as it sings you in, terrifying as it pulls you under. Skinny dipping, vulnerable, exciting, adrenaline, heart thumping, diving, sinking, drowning.

The morning, the afternoon, the night. The happening, the honeymoon, the heartbreak.

Ever since it ended, everything Harry had ever known was cast aside, thrown out like a Gucci jumper from last season. For the first time in his twenty-six years of living, fourteen of those juggling the obstacles that relationships can and will bring, Harry was irreversibly numb, a pair of frozen, gloveless fingertips blue from the icy wind. Not only did he linger in the gut-wrenching grief, he was absorbed by it. Instead of waking up each morning tucked into the bare side of your body diffusing innocent warmth, sipping a steaming cup of black coffee received by hands much smaller than his own, he woke up with a stranger laying on his chest, cold, with a pounding headache the bottle of whiskey had gladly supplied from the night before. The days felt as if they lasted an eternity, time stuck in slow-motion, tick, tick, ticking, one second, one and a half, one and three quarters, two. He watched the seasons pass, the grass dying and regenerating into its natural emerald shade from his bedroom, dust pocketing in the corners of a picture frame containing two pairs of sparkling eyes and genuine, toothy grins sitting on the windowsill. Nights consisted of him lying sleepless on his back, eyes wide awake, thumbs twiddling as the echoes of helicopters overhead drone in and out. Dozens of missed calls remained unanswered: Mum, Gem, Mitch, Mike, Adam, Sarah, Mum, Mum, Gem, Mum, Mike, Mitch, Gem, Mitch, Mum…

He was stuck, a pancake glued to an ungreased pan, charred. It was when this melancholy had prolonged for nearly its sixth month, and all at home remedies (which included drinking, writing, drinking because he was writing, and writing because he was drinking) failed to provide any peace that he decided to give in to the recommendations from almost every single one of his friends: therapy. After the first session, he was ready to book it and sprint off to a deserted island with nothing but a coconut filled with rum to accompany his solitude. Turns out that one session was the mento to his coca cola of bottled-up emotions, exploding months’ worth of buried feelings and memories in an hour. It took the will of God (and Gemma purposefully lying and telling him they were going to get lunch) to get Harry back in the baby-pink-painted interior of his therapist’s office. After months of talking, sorting, compartmentalizing, yelling, crying, healing, unpacking, and reflecting, Harry tackled down the closure he had been chasing. A year and an album later, when he heard your name, he no longer felt trapped, heart beating rapidly, trying desperately to break apart his ribcage, he felt unchained—a prisoner uncaged, pounds and pounds of metal unlocked from his wrists, free.

Before, your name was paired with a colorless photo album, snapshots of vibrancy draining into black and white, frozen, lifeless, still.

Now, your name resembled a film reel of the best moments, your sweater hanging in his closet, your arm thrown around his mother’s shoulder in a polaroid candid, your laugh echoing in the acoustics of his shower after you nearly slipped on the lavender bubbles coating sudsy toes, your hands massaging his scalp, twisting curls into detailed plaits, your foamy lips smushing against a stubbled cheek, leaving remnants of peppermint mocha in the winter air, your satin skirt contrasting from his purple flares in his backyard, playing thumb war and whispering confessions in the moonlight. The good memories built a brick wall to block out the bad, dimming the light of your downfall.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question echoes again in Harry’s ears, causing a grin and a dimple to pop into his cheek. The fuzzies. Once, twice, three times. Click, shake, tape.

“Yeah, I have.”

[alltheselights]

I love Zayn. I always will. I actually enjoy his solo music second most out of the 1D boys, Louis’ music is my favourite. I loved Zouis. I thought their friendship was beautiful and genuine and their fight and estrangement broke my heart. I think Zayn was a great support to Louis during 1D and that Louis was the best at making sure Zayn spoke in interviews and felt supported. He was always so proud of the boys and he showed that all the time when they were performing. Louis did help bring Zayn out of his shell. The racism Zayn faced and his trauma within 1D is also incredibly sad and proves just how much the industry needs to improve. It seems to continue to affect Zayn to this day. All the boys in 1D obviously went through difficult circumstances and traumas and that’s partly why I will always hope for the best for them, even distantly as it is with some. So I will always have love in my heart for Zayn and hope his music gets out there because he is tremendously talented. But. Sigh. I know Louis doesn’t do this with reciprocation in mind and so I hate that it does annoy me that Zayn won’t. They might honestly talk in private, which would probably be something they might both prefer due to their private natures, but I will say this. In the public fight, Louis didn’t actually address Zayn. He addressed Naughty Boy, who Zayn later publicly criticised so really didn’t that prove Louis’ concerns about him? Anyway, Zayn responded back to Louis but Louis himself didn’t fight back at Zayn publicly over that. Obviously we don’t know what was said privately. They seemed to maybe make up at some point and Zayn was supposed to join Louis and the other boys at Louis’ X-Factor performance following Jay’s passing. We know he didn’t show. Some things could maybe indicate they eventually spoke after that but things clearly didn’t work out as Louis last said in 2019 I think that they both weren’t mature enough for that conversation. My point is, Louis has really not criticised Zayn. He puts the fault on both of them, which is mature. Louis can’t understand the racism Zayn faced and I don’t think Zayn can understand the closeting Louis faced or how the way he fought for the boys helped to hurt him professionally. We know that Louis stood up for the boys throughout 1D and was labelled difficult for it. Savan Kotecha openly thought Louis was annoying for wanting them to have more creative control and might have eventually admitted Louis was right for that, but it didn’t change that people think Louis is rude and loud and annoying. They always forget the kindness of Louis, even some larries it feels like. What drove Louis to stick up for the boys was love. So much of Louis is driven by love, whether that’s love for people or love for music. So Zayn’s fans hate on Louis, more than they seem to hate on the other 1D boys, and I never understand that. Zrries are some of the worst even though Harry publicly shaded Zayn a few times. We’ve said it before but I just wish people would show Louis the support he shows others. Louis is good and kind and talented and loving and I wish he had more public support.

It also frustrated me that Zayn isn’t reciprocating, but I will say that it bothers me a little less with him than it does with like Niall or Harry, for example, because at least Zayn isn’t praising ANY of them and Louis also hasn’t spent time praising him. Whereas with teh other boys, it feels a lot like Louis has spent time supporting and praising their careers while they don’t do the same to him, even if they do it for others like Niall’s been doing with Harry. Louis does have way too big of a heart though and I wish the people that he shows so much love and support for would do the same. Even just a follow on Instagram from Zayn and Harry is the bare minimum but would at least be something.

[starsstruck]

reclining venus

a friends-to-lovers in where photographer!mc is incited on a getaway in italy along with harry. golden sunsets, finished bottles of wine, and late night sketching.

pairing: harry x reader words:18.5k rated: M

an: after years i am back with something new ! hope everyone enjoys and tell let me know what you think ! would mean the world to me 💖💖 enjoy ! xoxo 💖 askbox  💖

                                                              ***

“I’m king of the world!”

Lazily looking up, the sun leaving your eyelids heavy. The sight of Harry standing near the edge of the small wooden boat, you smiled softly as you watched the way the breeze made his half-buttoned blue shirt blow behind him, and pushed some of his curls into his face. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corner of your lips.

Your mind drifted, thinking that in that moment he bore resemblance to Hugh Grant’s character in Bridget Jones Diary, standing up on a boat, on the verge of falling over. 

As if reading your mind, you watched his head turn as he met your gaze, wide grin across his face as he quoted the movie that was just on your mind. Letting out a breathy laugh, you matched his smile as you could just get a peek of his eyes behind his dark sunglasses.

“Gonna tip us over,” your voice was soft, as you sunk back to your albeit uncomfortable position, back and bum on the hardwood.

The small getaway to the north of Italy was one that you weren’t expecting, but had gladly agreed to. You had never been to visit the lakes and mountains in the north of the country, and had immediately fallen in love with Orta San Giulio.

You had been working with Harry for nearly two years now. First meeting him when you were working for the studio that shot the cover for his first solo album. You still remember very clearly rushing into work that day, immediately busying yourself once you had gotten in, having seen the plans for the set up.

Not noticing him in that large studio space at first, you had been in the middle of moving a softbox across the room when you had stumbled into him. You remember your mouth hanging open as an arm reached out to steady you, asking you if you needed a hand. He wasn’t even supposed to be on set yet, things were still being put in place but he had come earlier was chatting with people around the set. You hadn’t talked to him again until the very end of the day, when you, your boss and Harry had filtered through the many images of the day. You had been surprised by how easy the two of you had gotten along. The two of you had chatted away, he had even asked to see pictures from your portfolio.

You had seen him a couple times after that day, even grabbing lunch with him when the two of you were both too hungry to keep working. But what had really surprised you was when you got a call, and was asked to join him on tour. You had shown him some of the minor concert photography you had done, never really considering doing it full time.

Yet you still agreed.

After tour, there were periods where you would go some months without seeing each other, but you would always be called up and asked to help with a shoot. And now you found yourself, asked to come to Italy for what was described to you as “a vacation, maybe we’ll do a shoot. Maybe not. Just some time off!”

Again, you had agreed, loving the time you spent with Harry and everyone, and yourself needing a little break. Taking advantage of the situation, you had actually given yourself an even longer vacation after the week was up. You were truly taking advantage of this time to relax.

You were so happy you had agreed to come, lake Orta seeming to come out of a dream. The small town of Orta San Giulio was right on the coast of the lake, mountains surrounding the body of water. Right in the middle of the narrow end of the lake and across from the town, rested a little island with beautiful buildings. A week to explore the space around, you guys had already gone walking through the mountains are were itching to see more.

Today was a bit more of a lazy day.

No one was that energetic to do anything big, the group splitting up. Both Harry and you had been looking into getting out to the water, finding a little rowboat rental company out on the dock. Neither of you were too keen on doing the majority of the rowing, deciding to stop and let the soft waves slowly drift you guys along the water.

It was so nice to float along the water, soft rocking leaving you calm. You rarely got a day to simply enjoy yourself, always having something going on that need to be worked on. You knew that soon you would need to return to the real world, leaving the small bubble you seemed to have created here in Italy. You knew Harry felt it as well. What with his constant busy schedule, you had definitely noticed a change in your friend.

His eyes didn’t hold the same bags they sometimes would, his shoulders not tensed. Even now, the way he stood tall, breathing in the fresh air around him, sun hitting his back. You wished you had your camera with you, even just your phone to take a picture of him, but had decided against bringing anything with you.

Just as you were basking in your relaxation, you were pulled back to reality. As predicted, Harry had managed to stumble from where he was standing. Instantly pulled from where your eyelids rested heavy, skin warm in the sun, you were suddenly met with a stark coldness.

Confusion clouding your mind for a split second as you suddenly found yourself submerged underwater, instinctively making your way up to the surface. 

“Ass,” you muttered as you coughed the bit of water finding itself trapped in your mouth. You saw Harry treading next to you, sunglasses having fallen off his face, eyes gleaming as he met your stare.

“My bad,” were the only words leaving his lips, as he chuckled to himself softly, hand moving up to push some hair out from his face. 

You coughed again, as you watched Harry turn away from you, and swim up to where your boat was now flipped over. Grabbing hold of it, he turned back to face you, concern now lacing his features.

“Alright?”

Nodding, you swam over to join him, hand resting on the flipped boat. “Yeah, yeah.” Muttering, although you bit at the smile starting to form. “Just be glad we decided not to take anything with us. It’d be lost by now.” 

“Think I lost my shades,” Harry nodded, hand moving to where they used to lay perched on his nose.

“That’s what you get.” You couldn’t even feign annoyance towards him, laugh tumbling out after the words left your mouth. “Give me a hand here,” you changed the subject, as you tried to push back the boat upright. 

Succeeding, you were now faced with the challenge of how exactly to get back in. “I’ll help y’a out,” Harry said next to you, once again reading your mind. You nodded, as you placed your hand on the edge of the boat, hoping that you had enough strength to pull yourself up. One hand still holding onto the wooden boat for support, Harry stuck out his other hand under the water, motioning for you to use it as a step to help you up. 

Shakily, you tried to hoist yourself up, feeling Harry pushing you up from under your foot. Managing to get one leg halfway over, you knew you must look completely ridiculous at the moment as you tried to not so gracefully get out of the water. Body suddenly jolting, as you felt a firm hand on your bum, giving you the last push you needed before successfully getting back into the boat. 

“I’ve got half a mind to leave you here, if you can’t keep your hands off my ass.” Teasing, as you looked down to where Harry still floated in the water next to you.

“Just trying to help y’a out, love.” He shot back, small shrug on his shoulders. You watched as his tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his lips. You felt your cheeks warm, hoping there was enough sun in his eyes for him not to notice.

It was always like this with Harry. As you guys started working together more often, your relationship had always been friendly. Although, there was always a little flirtatious aspect to your relationship. You usually brushed it off, knowing Harry was like this with a lot of people, that you shouldn’t read too much the cheeky comments that were directed your way. 

But then there were the nights where Harry would keep his hand on your leg as you sat next to him, the nights where he pulled at you to sit closer. For all the times you would spend the night with him, of course always having a reason for why it was the most convenient, but maybe neither of you wanted to say that you wanted to spend the night in each other’s arms. 

The two of you were both the type of people who enjoyed embracing the people you cared about, small touches as signs of affection. So, it was only natural that when you shared a bed, Harry’s arm always ended up wrapped around you. Especially the nights where the pair of you had had a couple of drinks, Harry always being cockier and a bit grabbier. 

The night of Harry’s last show of his first solo tour, a warm summer night in Los Angeles. It was a happy night, Harry giving another amazing performance. You had always found yourself mesmerized with the way he was on stage. After the show had ended, you were backstage and already flipping through the images on your camera. 

There was a small party happening backstage, just a small thanks Harry was giving to everyone who had helped him with the album and the tour. Bottles of champagnes were passed around the room, as Harry was thanking members of his team personally. 

You had already had about two glasses of champagne before you finally got to talk to Harry yourself. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for an engulfing hug. 

“You were amazing,” you told him, voice quiet as your lips were near his ear. “Really amazing, tonight, this whole tour.” 

He pulled away from the hug, arms remaining around you. He was beaming, still on his high of performing and of all the love in the room for him. “Thank you, love.” He told you honestly. “And thank you for coming along, these shows can last forever because of your photography.” 

“Thank you,” you giggled at his words. “But I play no role in making the shows so incredible -” 

He cut you off before you could brush off his compliment. “Don’t say that, don’t even think it,” he was shaking his head at you. “You play a huge role. Can’t be where I am without you.” 

You knew his words were not completely true, but you didn’t try to fight him on it. “C’mon love,” Harry turned, arm still around your shoulders, “Let’s go celebrate.”

A group of you had headed out to some club in the city, more drinks passing between the bunch of you. Everyone was chatting away, excited, drunk, happy. Harry was seated next to you, arm around the back of your chair, hand once and a while grabbing at the skin of your arm.

You’d had no idea what time it was when you guys had decided to call it a night, head spinning and exhaust of the day finally catching up. You had stepped out before anyone, followed by Harry. He was once again pulling you in for a big hug, thanking you for the thousandth time that night. You giggled in his arms, as he pressed a kiss on the apple of your cheek.

But he didn’t move away. 

You felt his lips push more kisses onto your cheek, moving down to the corner of your jaw. They were light, spongey kisses, but they still made the breath stop in your throat. He paused beneath your earlobe; arms still tight around you.

You felt him press an open mouth kissed on the skin under your ear, hot breath against you sending shivers down your spine. Lips hovering, teeth dragging over your skin, hips jutting against yours. Just as quickly as it had started, it ended. He had untangled himself from you in a flash, as the rest of your group joined you outside.

You tried to control the flush growing on your neck, thinking it best to brush it off as the two of you were intoxicated and just affectionate people. But still you couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips on your skin.

You felt the boat rock once again as Harry put his weight to one side, trying to lift himself up. He held out a hand towards you, as he found himself in the same position you had been. “Help me out, will ya?” He exhaled, looking up to meet your eyes.

Wordlessly reaching out, own hand wrapping around his wrist as you tugged him towards you. Falling into the curve of the boat next to you, Harry let out a sigh as he caught his breath. Now out of the water and aware of the clothes that clung to his body uncomfortably, Harry leaned his head against the edge of the boat, head turning to face you. 

Mirroring his motions, you closed your eyes and let out a content hum. “Kind of nice actually, the feeling of the fresh water.” You murmured, sun heating up your skin once again as the two of you sat in silence.

Harry watched you, watched your eyelids flutter and close as you faced the sun, watched as you extended your limbs to feel the warmth all over your body. He followed the drops of water that were coming from your shorts as they ran down your drying skin, his fingers itching to reach out and wipe them off. Eyes trailing up your torso, he glanced at where the wet fabric of your tank top clung so beautifully to your skin. The swell of your breasts so evident, as the wet fabric left nothing to the imagination. 

Fuck, Harry couldn’t help but immediately notice how evident it was that you were not wearing a bra. He told himself to look away, that he shouldn’t be looking at you like that, that it would make you uncomfortable if you could see the way his eyes were glued to your body.

“Should be heading back,” Harry muttered, willing the image of your breasts to leave his mind before blood rushed down to his cock. Looking away and pulling himself up from where he rested, the movement and his words having you open your eyes. 

“Yeah,” You nodded, eyelids already feeling heavy again, as you fell back into your state of relaxation. “I’m getting hungry.”

                                                              ***

After dinner and a bottle of wine, the group of you were settled on the small balcony, basking in the warm night. You were in the midst of talking about the work you did outside of photography, after had prompted you about the years you had spent in art school. 

Where photography was your favourite medium to work with, along with video, you were still quite fond of drawing and painting as well. Having to experiment with different modes of creation when you were in school, you took a big liking to drawing and painting. However, you found yourself not able to express what you wanted the way you could with photography, appreciating the mediums for the way you could create an image with your hands. 

Still, you enjoyed sitting down and drawing with your friends, or a little still-life in front of you for fun. You kept your serious work, and your most honest work in your photography. 

You finished off the last of the wine in your glass, deciding to go grab some more. You excused yourself as you stood and head to grab the bottle that was still inside. 

The presence of someone else in the room startled you, as you poured yourself another glass. “Didn’t know you did much drawing.” Harry’s voice was low as he passed his glass to you, wordlessly asking for more wine. 

“Never asked,” you grinned at him, handing him back his glass as you took a sip of your own drink. Cheeks already warm from the wine, you felt them get even warmer as Harry’s gaze lingered on you. “Nothing big,” you continued after Harry remained silent. “Just drawing for fun.” 

“Draw people?” His words were slightly slurred together, as he spoke quietly. He leaned on the counter next to you, close enough for you to feel the warmth coming from him. You silently wondered how much he had to drink, as he intensely held your gaze. 

“Yeah,” voice sounding small, you cleared your throat before continuing. “Friends, nice views or photos that I take. Sometimes I like to draw people I see when I sit at a cafe.”

“You think you could draw me?” 

Slightly taken aback by his words, the thought had never crossed your mind. “Yeah? Didn’t know you would want that.”

“Already taking so many pictures of me, why not some drawings as well?” He shrugged his shoulders, finally looking away from you as he glanced down at the glass in his hands, taking another sip, licking the wine off his lips. 

You bit your lips together as his words, fighting a smile. “Can't get enough of yourself, can you?” 

A smirk tugged at his lips. “That’s right, love.” 

“We can tonight if you want?” Harry continued, watching your face for any sign to tell him that he was pushing his luck. “Draw, watch a movie or something, just the two of us,” he looked down to his hands again as he trailed off.

“I miss you.” The words came so softly from his lips, you almost missed them. They sent a rush through your body, as he met your gaze once again.

“Harry,” you couldn’t help the small laugh that pushed past your lips. “We spent all day together.” 

“I know,” he drawled out his words. “But we’ll be leaving soon, and I won’t get to see you every day anymore. Want t’spend time with you.”

Biting your lip again at his words, as you fought the blush that was warming your neck. “So tonight, yeah?” 

“Tonight.” You nodded, eyes soft, arm playfully bumping his before heading back to the balcony, Harry following not far behind.

You rejoined the group, listening to the conversation you had walked in on. Your eyes wandered over to Harry, finding him already watching you. Passing him a small smile, as you drank your wine and moved your gaze to the view around you. You couldn’t tell if Harry was acting different tonight, or maybe it was just the exhaustion from a relaxing day, mixed with a little too much wine. 

Soon, everyone was heading back inside, finishing cleaning up and heading off to bed. Drowsy from a from a day in the sun, the wine not helping with heavy eyelids. After saying your goodnights, you headed to your room in the shared apartment. 

Quickly changing, you put on your pyjama shorts and an oversized teeshirt, skin still warm as the night didn’t get very cold. Grabbing some pencils from your bag, and a large pad of paper that you did most of your sketching on, you headed down the hall and gave Harry’s door three quiet knocks. 

His door swung open, eyes meeting yours. You took in his appearance, noticing he had also changed, wearing a pair of black shorts and nothing else. You walked past him and into his room, a small “hi” leaving your mouth as you willed your eyes not to linger on his bare chest next to you.

You stood in his dimly lit room, unsure of where to situate yourself. His room, like yours, was small, a bed in the middle of the room and a small desk a chair to the side of the room. Harry had his things sprawled out over the desk, and the floor for that matter, luggage poking out of the closet to your right. You moved to sit on the chair, before Harry called you over to where he had sat on the bed.

“Here’s fine.”

“You sure? Don’t want to get eraser shavings all over the sheets.” You smiled as he waved your comment off, patting the spot across from him. Making your way over to join him, you sat crossed legged across from him, sketchpad on your lap. You watched as he fiddled with his phone, as the first notes of a Mazzy Star song started playing.

Placing his phone next to him, he faced you. “How d’you want me?” 

“Up to you, whatever is comfortable.” Opening up your sketchpad to a new page, grabbing the pencil resting next to you. “I’m gonna start with some fast and simple sketches, feel free to change poses whenever you want.” 

Harry extended his legs across the mattress, feet just hanging over the edge as he rested his head in his hand. Laying on his side, he watched your eyes move along his figure in front of you. 

“Haven’t done a drawing session like this in a while,” you murmured, as you began drawing rough shapes onto your page, eyes flicking up to Harry every once and a while. 

“Not many offering to pose for you?” Harry’s voice was low, eyes watching your hands as they skilfully moved the pencil on the page. 

“No, nothing like that,” letting out a breathy laugh, the thought of doing something like this not even occurring to you since you were a student. “Just never really considered it. Years ago, some friends and I would have nights where we would draw each other, and then I had to do some for class, but nothing since then.” 

Harry hummed, curious about your days spent studying art. “Had to sit around some naked guy, while everyone drew him? Like in the movies?”

You laughed, knowing exactly the stereotypical movie scenes he was talking about. “Yeah, actually, I did have to do that.” 

You saw Harry’s eyebrows shoot up, teasing at first but surprised he had been right. “Really? Fully nude?” 

Nodding, you flipped over the pages in your sketchbook as you continued your quick sketches. “Usually had a couple days of life drawing like this, different models, always nude. Supposed to see how the body moves and all that.” 

“Sounds hot,” you glanced up at Harry at his words, holding back a laugh. 

“Not a lot of people getting hot and bothered in class drawing an old man, Harry.” 

“Old man,” Harry exclaimed, dimples popping on his cheeks. “Very hot. Did you like school?”

Nodding, you matched his smile. “Yeah,” you stopped drawing, thinking about his question. “Yeah, I mean as much as it was tough, I still couldn’t imagine myself doing anything else.” 

You watched Harry nod at your words, bottom lip between his teeth. “What about you? Ever think about what you would have continued to study?” 

His eyes met yours, slow nod as he thought it over. “I mean, yeah, of course I’ve thought about it but,” he paused again. “Who knows what I would be doing. Like you said, where I am now, I couldn’t imagine myself doing something else.” 

You smiled at his words, telling him you were going to start actually drawing him instead of just outlines and to try not to move too much. Harry continued to talk about aspirations he had when he was younger, what could have been if he had never become a musician. He chatted away, moving constantly but you never said anything, happy to listen to him. 

One thing you loved about drawing people, especially people you knew, was that it always made you notice new things about them. You had spent enough time staring at him, and at his face, all those hours you’d spent editing pictures of him. But as you had him bare chested in front of you, you took your time to take in all the ways his muscles moved under his skin, off all the tattoos that covered his chest and arms.

You found it endearing really, the way he wanted to have art all over his body. 

“Wan’ to move, that’s okay?” His voice broke you from your thoughts, looking up from the paper in front of you. 

“‘Course,” voice low, as you admired the drawing you had started. Flipping the pad over to a new page, you waited until Harry stopped shuffling on the bed in front of you. 

You were a bit taken aback when you looked up at Harry. He sat comfortably, back leaning against the backboard of the bed, legs pointed towards you. He faced you so directly, eyes concentrated on you. He had been facing you before, but it had been much more casual, as he rested his head in his head. 

There was something just a bit more, intimidating, about the way he sat in front of you. 

As you started another drawing, a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. You were putting extra attention into this drawing, it being a little easier as Harry wasn’t moving around as much as before.

About half an hour passed before Harry started mumbling about his back feeling sore, and you decided it was a good place to end, knowing that you could go on and on nitpicking over a sketch.

“Can I see?” 

You don’t know why Harry’s question made you pause. Of course he would want to see the drawings you had done of him. Yet, you found yourself hesitating to show him. It just seemed like such an intimate moment, and the idea of sharing the drawings, even sharing them the person that you had been drawing, seemed like too much. 

“I,” you paused, unsure of what to do or say. “Want finish some details on them. Show them to you soon, I promise.” The lie left your lips easily, mind easing as Harry nodded along. 

“Perfectionist, yeah?” He smirked, nodding in understanding. “‘Course, love. We can do this again and you’ll show them to me later, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, biting back a smile. You don’t know why, the idea of Harry wanting to have you draw him again made you so happy.

“Want t’watch a movie, stay the night here?” His voice was quiet, smirk wiped from his face as he spoke tentatively. 

This time, you couldn’t help the smile that broke out. “Bridget Jones?” Ever since earlier that day as Harry recreated Hugh Grant’s actions on the boat from the movie, you had an itching to watch the whole film. 

He nodded along, very pleased that you had agreed. Harry quickly headed to the washroom as you moved up the bed and slid in under the thin sheets, the night too hot to need anything warmer. Harry quickly joined, grabbing his laptop and finding the movie to put on for the two of you. Pressing play, he shifted closer to you, one arm swinging around your back and pulling you in to him.

“That’s you,” you muttered, pointing to the screen when Hugh Grant fell from his boat into the water, right down to the blue shirt.

Harry shifted next to you, gazing down at you with eyebrows shot up. “Wha’? I’m a much better guy than he is.”

You beamed up at him, eyes slightly squinting to see him clearly in the dim room. “That’s true,” pausing, glancing between Harry and the character on screen. “Better looking than him too.”

Harry’s grin widened at your words. “Glad to hear it love.”

Placing your head back against his chest, you hummed as Harry’s fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, his grip around you tightening.

                                                              ***

Bare thighs hitting the hard material of the chair, you felt your dress ride up as you sat down around the table. Turning your head over your shoulder, you watched as Harry approached the table you guys had situated yourselves at, drinks in hand. 

“Gin and tonic for you,” Harry sat down next to you, knee bumping yours as he slid your drink over to you. Sipping his own drink, he watched as you picked up the lime from the rim, squeezing it so the juices from the fresh fruit dripped into your cup. Bring the wedge up to your lips, biting through the juices that remained in the fruit, before putting what was left of the wedge into your glass. 

Harry kept his eyes on your lips as you laughed at something Sarah said, as you tongue licked up the rest of the sour taste from your lips. Smiling to himself as he watched you repeat the same drink ritual for the hundredth time, as you seemed pleased with yourself after finally taking a sip.

“Can I try?” Your voice broke Harry out of his daze, as you pointed at the drink that he held. Passing his drink over to you, he chuckled to himself as you always asked to try what he was drinking. “You won’t like it.” 

Placing the glass to your lips, you quickly pulled it away after getting a small taste. Lips curving in distaste, your expression proving him right. “Mine’s better.” You nodded, passing his glass back to him, leaving a mark of your lipstick on the rim. 

You took another long sip of your drink, pleased with the way the cold liquid cooled you down, fingers wet from the condensation on the glass. Today the sun had been even hotter, leaving your skin warm and sticky after it set. 

The group of you fell into conversation, discussing various aspects of your day and of your time in Italy. Everyone seemed to have had a good time relaxing on this mini-vacation, no one wanting to leave the bubble you had created. 

“Have you figured out where you’re heading afterwards?” The question was directed at you, as you still had some time off after the shoot you had finished. The rest of them had to head to London, but you decided to take advantage of this much needed break.

“France,” you said, finishing off your drink. “Up to the mountains. Around the Alps. And then maybe the south for a couple days.”

You were looking forward to do some exploring on your own. Your work allowed you to travel, which was something you were beyond grateful for, but you rarely got the time to slow down and full explore the places you were in. You had been itching to come back to Italy and France, pleased that you finally could. 

As conversation settled on places traveled to and where was wanted to visit next, you excused yourself to the washroom and to go grab another drink, not feeling the effect of your first drink yet. Fixing your lipstick and blotting the dewy skin on your face, you headed from the washroom to the bar, ready for another drink.

Using your albeit rough Italian skills, you got yourself another gin and tonic. You felt a bit silly, getting a drink that you could order anywhere in the world, in a country that had such great wine. But you told yourself that it was better to buy a bottle, rather than an expensive glass at a bar. 

Waiting for your drink, and lost in your thoughts of which alcohol was the best bang for your buck, you failed to notice Harry come stand next to you at the bar. Hand sliding to the small of your back, lips hovering over your ear. 

“Getting another drink?” His voice was low, but you could still clearly hear him over the loud space around you. “Choose one for me?”

Before you could say anything to Harry, your drink appeared in front of you. Leaning in to talk to the bartender again, ordering Harry the same drink that you had been drinking all night. 

“You’re going t’have dreamy frenchmen hanging all over you in France.” He said as the two of you waited for his drink.

Breathy laugh coming from your mouth at his comment, you shook your head. “No way. I’m taking time for myself,” looking down at your drink, lime coating your fingers. “Just relaxing.”

“You gonna be okay by yourself?” Harry thanked the bartender, handing them some folded euros, eyes roaming back to yours.

“‘m a big girl, Harry.” You beamed, sipping your drink after adding your lime. 

Humourless chuckle escaping his mouth, he nodded. “I know, I know. Just worry about you is all.” 

You watched as Harry grabbed his lime wedge between his fingers, lifting it up to hold it in front of your mouth, silently telling you to take it between your teeth.

Obeying, you watched his smirk deepen as you grabbed the lime with your teeth. Thumb brushing against your lip as he pulled his hand away. He brought the same thumb to his own mouth, licking off any remaining juices from the sour fruit. Biting into the lime, you pulled the wedge out of your mouth, placing the slice into your own drink. You held his gaze, face feeling unbelievably hot. 

“Are you worried?” You teased, going back to what you guys were talking about before your little lime induced staring contest. “Or jealous.”

Harry shook his head, breaking your gaze. His hand came back down to the small of your back, leading you away from the bar and back to where your table sat outside.

“Can’t it be a bit of both?” His tone was teasing, but as you rejoined your group and watched as Harry scooted his chair closer to yours, you wondered if there was truth to his words. 

The night went on and the drinks flowed between your group, enjoying one of your last nights in Italy. As you sat back in your chair, watching the emptying streets around you, the sound of music and laughter being the only ones to fill your ears.

You also couldn’t help but feel hyperaware of every movement Harry made next to you. Every time his leg bumped yours under the table, every glance or smirk in your direction, every small nudge of his shoulder. 

You were at a point in the night, and maybe your intoxication, where Harry’s leg fully rested against yours, his arm spread over the back of your chair. You tried not to overthink the act, knowing that it didn’t mean anything, that you shouldn’t think it meant anything. Harry often swung his arm around the back of a chair, regardless of who was sitting there. Still, you couldn’t help the heat wash over your body at the thought of Harry longing to be closer to you.

After yawns started to fall from your lips, unable to participate in conversation anymore, you were about to suggest heading back. Harry, using his remarkable talent to read your mind, offered to walk with you as the others all wanted to stay for another drink. 

“You’re exhausted love, c’mon.” Harry stood from where he was sitting, waiting for you to do the same. You both said your goodbyes and goodnights to everyone, discussing your plans for breakfast the next morning, before walking back to the apartment building you were staying at. 

Although well into the night, the thin fabric of your dress and the humid air was enough to keep you warm. 

"Didn’t have to leave early with me.” You said, unsure if Harry had wanted to stay. “Told you Harry, I can handle myself.”

An ill-timed stumble on the cobblestones beneath your feet did not help you prove your point. Harry laughed at you, linking arms with you to keep you from stumbling further. 

“Bit drunk, aren’t you?” He grinned at you, dimples deep on his cheeks. “No,” you giggled into his arm, the word a lie but you knew him well enough to know that he was slightly intoxicated as well. 

“Right love,” he scoffed, “Guess you don’t need me to hold onto then?” 

You watched as he detached himself from you, talking long strides as he moved away from you.

“Harry,” you drawled out, already missing his skin against yours. You watched your steps this time, not wanting to trip on the uneven stones of the road. 

Harry stopped in his steps, watching you get closer to him. He laughed that loud laugh you loved to hear so much, holding out a hand for you to grab. 

“Look pretty tonight,” Harry suddenly found his voice quiet, as he watched you approach him and placed your palm on his. He hadn’t been able to go without being close to you in some kind of way tonight, like your body was a magnet pulling him in. 

He watched you, your features glowing softly in the dim light of the street. Hoping he wasn’t imagining what looked like a blush on your cheeks, he couldn’t stop himself as his free hand reached out under your chin. 

You didn’t say anything to his compliment, no words being formed in your mouth as Harry brushed his thumb gently over your bottom lip, over the remains of your lipstick. “Lovely colour on you.”

Harry’s hand titled your head up slightly, other hand that was laced with yours tugging you closer.

“Thank you,” were the only two words you could muster at that moment, barely a whisper. “You always look pretty too, Harry.” You immediately wanted to cringe as you heard the words coming out of your mouth.  

“Is that so, love.” Breath fanning over your face, that smirk reappeared on his face. “Always?” 

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice, and watched as his eyes dropped down to your lips, thumb nudging them again. 

They lingered there for a moment, a moment far too long. The two of you were nearly flush against each other, one of your hands still laced together.

“Let’s head back, yeah?”  Harry whispered as took a step back, letting go of your hand and re-linking your arms. 

You didn’t say anything as you leaned into his arm, already overthinking the moment you had just shared. Part of you was beating yourself up for not being the one to make the first move. But the other part of you was terrified of what would happen, and needed him to be the one to make the first move. 

If you had been tired before, you were exhausted by the time you made it back to the villa. Heading immediately to the washroom when you walked through the door, wanting nothing more than to wash off your make up and brush your teeth. 

Leaving the washroom, you saw Harry waiting outside the door. “You want to,” he paused, as you stopped next to him. “Stay with me tonight? Don’t want t’sleep alone.”

You sucked your lips between your teeth, trying to bite back a smile as you faced him, nodding tentatively. Finding yourself unable to fight the smile on your face, you watched as his expression mirrored yours. “Gonna grab some water first.”

After forcing yourself to drink an entire glass, and refilling one to leave by the bed, you skipped past your room and made your way to Harry’s. 

Placing your water on the bedside table, you glanced around his room. Grabbing a shirt from the chair where Harry had left some thrown across the back, you quickly pulled off your dress and bra to change into the shirt before Harry came back from the washroom. 

Folding your clothes together and placing them next to your water, you slid under the sheets, happy to finally lay down. 

Harry held his breath as he left the washroom and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you through the open door, peeling your dress from your skin. He tried to make the least noise as possible, knowing he should look away. He was still a bit drunk, and still playing the moment he had almost kissed you over and over in his head. 

Your back was turned to him, and he could feel as blood rushed to his cock, as he saw you standing in only your blue underwear. Turning in his heels, he walked back into the washroom. Mentally talking himself down, he gripped the counter and shut his eyes praying he didn’t grow harder. 

You were already drifting into sleep in Harry’s bed, eyes fluttering open as you felt him finally join you in bed. You felt the mattress dip as he shifted closer to you, watching him as you lay on your side.

“Have a good day?” Harry whispered to you, body shuffling to his side so he could lay directly across from you. “Yeah,” you nodded, voice at a whisper as well. “Really good day. Really good time on this trip, too.”

Harry grinned at your words, pleased to hear you were enjoying yourself. “Me too,” he whispered, hand sliding over to wrap around your waist. “C’mere.”

He pulled you closer, rolling to his back and brought his other arm around you, waiting for you to lift your head for it to rest under you. Accepting the warmth of his skin against yours, even in the heat of the room. Once settled, mumbled a small goodnight to him. You couldn’t help smiling at the way you fit next to him, the way he itched to lay closer to you.

You glanced up at Harry as he muttered your name, not having a chance to react as his head dipped down, lips pressing a chaste kiss right at the corner of your mouth. Your eyes widened, barely registering the small “night love” that he mumbled, before dropping his head back down to the pillow.

You held your breath as you tried to slow your beating heart, certain that he would be able to feel it. He must have wanted to kiss your cheek, you thought to yourself, calming yourself. He’s drunk, he’s tired.

                                                              ***

Yours and Harry’s shoes shuffled on the stone steps that led up to your floor in the apartment you were staying in. Bags in hands that were hitting your legs as you walked up the steps, you were looking forward to something refreshing to drink along with a nice meal.

Everyone had split up today, having different ideas of what they wanted to do. Ever since your little rowboat adventure, both you and Harry had been itching to get to Isola San Giulio, the island that sat in the lake, not too far of from the mainland.

It had been another tranquil day, taking your sweet time to wander around the small island, cameras, both digital and film, at your hip. You often stopped Harry, telling him to stand in a certain spot as you took a few steps back to snap a shot of him, and taking extra special ones with your film camera.

Harry always pretended to be bothered by it, but you knew he wasn’t. He liked being your muse.

He would always grab at the camera, telling you that he wanted to get pictures of you as well, but was rarely able to pull the camera from your arm. Still though, he sometimes managed to get a few shots of you, showing you right after and telling you “pretty good, aren’t I? Got a knack for this, I think.”

Favourite thing were the deteriorating frescos that lined the walls of the basilica that sat in the middle, you want to take your time and admire every image. The day was just as warm, sun filtering through the island and leaving bits of golden yellow across the warm bricks.

After eventually coming back to the mainland, the two of you headed to a nearby market to pick up some vegetables, fresh pasta, and some wine. You let Harry do a lot of the talking with the local merchants, impressed with his growing Italian skills.

Placing the groceries in the kitchen, you stopped Harry once again as you reached for your camera. “Lights really nice right now,” you murmured, adjusting the shutter on your camera before pointing the lens at Harry. Soft yellow light as the sun would set in a couple hours, it shone around Harry as his back faced the peach coloured stone of the balcony.

He looked like a dream today. White teeshirt, that was simple but still fitted, tucked into some loose deep brown trousers. Dark blue silk scarf that was tied around his neck, you had once or twice untied it during the day, to tie around your own neck. “Look classy with an ascot,” you had said, as you admired your appearance with Harry’s scarf.

Harry had also admired you, liking the way it matched the rest of your outfit. You had been nearly exclusively wearing sundresses during your trip, today being no exception. Hem hitting the middle of your shins, the soft cream colour fabric jutted out from where it was tighter around your abdomen, small red and orange embroidered flowers trailing down the sides.

“Wine?” Harry’s voice pulled you back into reality, watching as he held up one of the bottles you had bought today. “Of course.” You beamed at him, placing your camera on the counter as you grabbed the vegetables from your cloth bag.

Starting to chop the courgettes, you hummed a quiet thank you to Harry as he passed you a wine glass. Glass hinting yours in a wordless cheers, you both sipped at the wine as you continued to make dinner.

Just over half an hour later, the two of you sat across from each other at the table on the balcony, enjoying your dinner and wine. Both very pleased with the result of your dish, chattering away as you finished up eating just as the sun started to set.

Harry sprang up, running inside before coming back out with your camera in hand.

“You’re glowing love,” he grinned, sitting back down before pointing the camera lens in your direction. The sun creating an orange glow all around, you hoped it hid your blush from his words. “Shift forward a bit.” He said to you, wanting until you listened.

He snapped a few pictures of you, grinning down at the camera as he checked them before passing it to you. “See? Beautiful. Need to let me take pictures of you more often.”

“Looks good Harry,” you smiled softly at his compliment.

The both of you stayed outside until the sun was fully set, passing the camera between each other and finishing the rest of the wine. It wasn’t until the bottle was finished that the two of you decided to head inside.

After clearing out you plates and dishes, Harry tugged at your arm as he urged you to draw him again. Easily agreeing, you couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness.

He sat himself down on the bed again, as you easily joined him with sketch book and pencils in hand. His eyes gleamed in the soft light of the lamp next to him, cheeks tinted red from the wine and wide grin on his face.

Repeating your actions from the night before, you started with small fast sketches of Harry as he lay with his legs sprawled towards you. He kept chattering away, again not doing his best at sitting still but it didn’t bother you at all.

Conversation slowing down between the pair of you, Harry rested his head against the wall behind him, eyes shutting softly. You might have thought that he was sleeping, if it wasn’t for the small comments he made once and a while, continuously asking if his pose was okay.

He shifted around a couple more times, settling on a pose with his back slouched against the pillows behind him, as you told him to try not to move for a bit longer.   You found yourself working faster today, maybe it was the wine that made your movements a bit sloppier, or maybe it was the familiarity that you had established with his body.

Conversation coming to a stop as you sat in a comfortable silence, you concentrating on the drawing in front of you and Harry enjoying watching you draw. It wasn’t until a few songs had passed in the silence, before Harry spoke up again.

“You said you used to draw people naked?” Harry broke the silence, as you focused on the detail of his shoulder. You hummed, eyes flicking to his, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“Think it would be better if I was naked?” He said, after a few seconds of silence. You felt heat rush to your face at his words, stopping your pencil on the page. 

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.” You said forcing a small laugh, willing yourself to look up at him. 

“I'm serious, love. Said so yourself, you can really see how the body moves.” His voice was devoid from any humour, but as you met his eyes you say that familiar gleam in them. 

He suddenly got up from the bed, shuffling over to where the desk was in the corner of the room. Your widening eyes followed him across the room, suddenly aware of how hot your cheeks were burning. 

“Harry,” you started to say, as if a small warning. Yet as you heard your voice, it was barely above a whisper. “Only if you want to, love.” 

Harry’s eyes searched yours, as he began to panic in your silence. Shit, what if he had pushed you too far? He didn’t want to scare you off, quite the opposite in fact. He watched as you slipped your lip between your teeth, seemingly thinking it over.

You knew that you should say no, that this was not something that you guys should do. The both of you had seen each other naked before, in quick glances of moments where you needed to change, or where you opened a door without knocking first.

But this was something very different. You already got a bit flustered around him, and you couldn’t help but overthink every time he was extra touchy with you. You knew that he was just that kind of person, and that he acted that way with a lot of people. But every time his leg rested against yours when he sat next to you, or his arm swung around your shoulders to hold you close, you felt like he wanted to be closer to you.

You knew that you should say no to him. That this wasn’t a good idea, that you were both a little tipsy on all that wine that was finished off, and that this could might not be a great idea. You never even really did this with your friends, you guys always posed clothed for each other.

Yet, you still found yourself giving him a nod, as you turned to face him. 

Relief washed over Harry, as he heard the word “Yeah,” leave your lips in a hushed tone. “Yes,” you repeated a little louder, as you flipped to a fresh page to draw on. 

Looking away from Harry, you again couldn’t help the blush that was creeping up your neck. What the hell were we doing.

You felt your mouth go dry when you looked back up at him. Shirt pulled off his shirt, and his trousers had been pushed down his legs, along with his briefs and pushed them to the side. Your eyes scanned his long legs, to his abdomen. You willed yourself not to stare too long at his newly exposed cock, but you couldn’t help but notice how long and thick he was; mind wandering as you imagined just how heavy he would feel in your hand, or mouth. 

Harry couldn’t help the small smirk that played at his lips as he watched your eyes scan him. Not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable, he quickly sat down on the chair facing you. “Sit however I want?” His voice broke the silence that had set in the room.

You nodded, trying to shake any dirty thought from your head as you shifted on the bed a bit, making yourself comfortable. “I’ll just do one I think, one pose for longer if that’s okay?” You finally managed to meet his gaze.

“’ Course.” He nodded, as he settled on a pose he was okay with staying in for a while, leaning back in the chair and crossing his bare legs. He didn’t mind sitting put in the slightest, loved watching you as you worked, as your eyes scanned his skin. 

You silently began your work, soft music from Harry’s phone being the only sound in the room. There was faint noise coming from the city outside, but you felt like the two of you were in your own world up here. The two of you sat in silence, only once and a while making small conversation, or humming along to whatever song was playing.

You don’t know how long you sat and drew him, could’ve been half an hour, could’ve been two hours. You don’t think your cheeks ever stopped flushing, being so close and so intimate with Harry like this.

When you finally decided that you were done, you folded your sketchpad placing it next to you and let your shoulders drop with a sigh. “’ M done.” You told Harry, watching his eyes perk up at the sound of your voice. 

His movements were slow, stiff from sitting in the same pose for so long. “Can I see? Haven’t shown me any drawings yet.” He moved up from the chair, and you couldn’t help your eyes drop down to his crotch again.

“I’ll put my pants back on I promise.”

You grinned up at him, feeling more at ease again after the initial awkwardness of when he had dropped trow in front of you.

“Yeah,” you grinned, oddly more at ease to show Harry your drawings now. You flipped through the book as he pulled his pants back on. You felt the mattress sink next to you as Harry sat down, leg against yours. You handed him the book, watching as he took in the sketches.  

You observed his reactions as his eyes skimmed over each line, turning the pages. He stopped when he reached the more detailed sketches from earlier this night, from before he got naked. He spent the longest time looking at them, not flipping to the last one yet.

“These are beautiful,” his voice held a slight rasp, as he looked up at you. 

“Narcissist.” You muttered, teasing him. “I’m serious,” he breathed out your name, along woth a humourless laugh. “They’re crazy detailed for the amount of time, but,” he trailed off, staring at them more intently. “I don’t know, you really just got me y’know?” He said, gazing back down to the drawing. “You just,” He trailed off again, not sure how to express what he was saying. “You captured me so well.”

Another blushed crept up your cheeks at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry. Really,” you smiled softly at him.

“’ Course love,” he smiled back. “You know I’m your biggest fan.” You trailed your eyes over his face, watching the way he smiled fondly at you, the way his dimple popped out, the way his eyes crinkled in his good humour. 

Finally, as your gaze met his once more, you watched his eyelashes flutter, pupils wide and dark. Before you could even think of biding your goodnights, Harry’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Stay again tonight?”

You had to bite back the smile building on your lips. 

You had already made up your mind at his question, of course wanting to spend another night in his arms. It was the look in his eyes, one you couldn’t quite place. His pupils dilated, as he looked up at you through lashes. “Please?”

 “Of course,” you breathed out, almost wanting to reach forward and push his hair out of his face, but thought against it. “Want to change first, I’ll be back in a sec.” 

Quietly walking to your room, you changed into your pyjama shorts and a loose tank top. Stopping by the washroom before heading back to Harry’s room, you gazed at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flush from the number of drinks that you had. Or maybe it was from being so close to Harry’s naked body for so long. Wiping your face down with cool water, you wiled the blush away before heading back to Harry.

He watched you walk back into his room, closing the door behind you. You smiled softly at him as he looked up to you. His eyes watched, his cock twitching in his shorts as your nipples noticeably press against the fabric of your shirt. Control yourself, he thought to himself. Harry knew he was already pushing his luck with you, especially keeping you here in his bed with him. 

You noticed he had the sketchpad still resting on his lap, sitting yourself next to him and obeying as he motioned for you to shuffle in closer to you; only happy when your side was fully pressed against his.

“Drew something for you.” Harry’s voice rumbled in your ear. 

You turned towards him, watching as he reached for the sketchpad that you had left. He flipped through it, finding the page he wanted to show you, tapping on the little mess of scribbles he wanted to show you. It was a small stick figure, with a few odd added features that you figured were meant to resemble you, with your name scribbled overtop. 

“What’s that?” You breathed out, small giggle in your voice. You pointed to a small mess of lines next to your name. “What?” Harry laughed from next to you. “Its a heart!” 

“Harry that does not look like heart.” Giggling as you glanced at him, watching his lips turn down to a pout. “Could be one,” he muttered, hint of a smile in his voice.

Harry flipped over the book on his lap, nude drawing of Harry in front of you. “This is seriously incredible,” he murmured, voice serious again. “Was it weird for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he paused, glancing from the drawing to you. “Was it weird, drawing me naked and all?”

You bit your lips together between your teeth, not knowing where he was going with this, and not knowing what to say.

“Because I didn’t think it was. ‘M comfortable with you, y’know?” He mumbled, eyes not leaving yours. You had to glance down, feeling heat rush to your face.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” you whispered, eyes stuck on the drawing that you had just done of him.

“Las’ thing I wan’ to do is make you uncomfortable, love.”

“Harry, I’m not...” The words died in your throat. 

As you turned your head to face the man next to you, your breathing felt like it had come to a stop. His face that was already turned towards you, was inches away from yours, noses nearly brushing.

You swallowed thickly, eyes flicking between his. His gaze was intense, eyes dark, a fact that you don’t think could be blamed on the wine anymore. You looked down to the sketchpad on both of your laps, as his hand smoothed over the paper until the tip of his fingers met yours. 

“Harry...” You could barely hear your own voice as you spoke his name, heartbeat drumming in your ears. 

“‘s just me, love,” his voice rasped in your ear, body shifting closer to yours as you watched his fingertips dance over your skin down on the paper in front of you. You could feel his nose brush over the top of your ear, lips only brushing on the skin over your jaw. 

Not moving, you refused to look up at him. Maybe you wanted to prolong his begging or maybe you were too afraid to make the first move, it was probably a bit of both.

He muttered your name on top of your skin, breath hot on your neck. He wasn’t so much pressing kisses on your skin, as he was brushing his lips on you. “It’s just me.”

“Please, love.” 

His voice was thick, tortured even. 

Bottom lip lodging itself between your teeth, you looked up at him. His eyes were rapidly searching your face, breath mixing with your own.

Within the blink of an eye, his lips met yours. 

Mouth so light against yours, he whispered your name. Tentatively giving you a kiss, a soft kiss, his other hand sliding behind your head. Fingertips lightly scratching into your scalp, letting out a small sigh as all he wanted was more of you. 

A sigh left Harrys lips as he whispered your name over your mouth again, leaving small, hints of kisses against your own lips. A whine built in his throat, calling you to be closer to him. Lifting a hand up to his cheek, you scratched your fingertips against his skin as your lips rested barely a millimetre apart, breath mixing together.

Warmth rushed through your body as his lips finally fully slid over yours, hot and eager as he puckered his lips against your own in small kisses.

Mind void from any other thought or worry you had before, filled with nothing but Harry as he filled your senses. A small gasp made its way from the back of your throat as Harry’s tongue heatedly pushed past your lips mouth gladly opening for him. Harry grazed into your mouth, arm around you pulling you closer to him.

Kiss growing in fervour since the hesitant brushes of lips it had started as, Harry could hear nothing but his heartbeat loud in his ears, along with the series of soft exhales and gasps that were leaving your mouth. The same mouth that Harry longed to feel against his, the same mouth that was currently pressed eagerly against his.

“Christ,” Harry grunted, voice low as you tugged on his hair. “Thinking about this…” he muttered against your mouth, lips briefly leaving yours to kiss the corner of your mouth, moving down to your jaw and then neck. His mouth open, breath hot, making your spine tingle with every wet kiss on your skin. “Wanting this.”  A sigh left your mouth as his teeth lightly nipped at the skin under your earlobe.

“Harry,” his name was a whine, pulling his attention away from your neck, as his eyes searched yours. Pupils wide, eyes dark and filled with desire, longing for you. His breath leaving his lips in small pants, chest rising against yours.

“Love, I –” He cut himself off, brow furrowing as he watched you intently, waiting for you to speak up again. You felt his hand on yours, still resting on the paper on both your laps, his fingertips grazing over your hand and moving up to hold your forearm.

“Harry,” you repeated, already feeling cold without his lips on yours, even as he sat almost completely pressed against you.

He watched as you freed your arm from his grasp, grabbing the pad of paper that had since been filled with drawings of Harry. He watched as you tossed it on the floor next to you. A long breath of air was pushed from his lips, his eyes remaining locked with yours.

He drew out your name, voice low, voice needy, as he followed your every movements. Shifting your body next to his, you lifted a leg over his lap, sitting yourself on his thighs as you straddled him. Free hand joining the other around his neck, you watched as a smirk tugged at his lips, eyebrows raising at you slightly. His expression had relaxed from a few seconds ago, when you had pulled away from him and he thought you were on the verge of running away. Instead he found himself even closer to you, chests pressed against each other, one hand gripping the nape of your neck and the other lacing around your waist as he kept you close.

“Want you too, Harry.”

A beat passed between the two of you, before your mouths molded together once again. Lips immediately hot against one another, Harry licking deep into your mouth as you returned his fervour. You felt his chest rumble with a moan against you, as your fingers tugged at his curls, loving the way it made him react against you.

His grip was tight on your waist, other hand moving away from your neck, gripping you wherever he could. You whimpered into his mouth as both hands found themselves over the curve of your ass, fingertips digging into your skin as it prompted you to shift your hips closer to his, heat rushing to your core as you rubbed over him.

“God love,” Harry groaned, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, before pulling away from you to catch his breath. “You are…” his lips immediately found your skin again, grazing the skin under your jaw. “God I’ve dreamt about this.”

His voice was a whisper, a deep, raspy whisper that somehow made you radiate with even more heat against him.

His mouth moved over your collarbone, meeting the strap of your tank top, gripping it with his teeth as he moved it to the side and over your shoulder. One of his hands tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it down just enough to expose the top of your breasts. Lips following the curve of your chest, sucking and nipping the skin that had been newly exposed to him.

You moved one of your hands away from the back of his head, open palm smoothing his exposed chest. The room was hot, the air between the two of you searing hot, but somehow Harry found himself shivering as your nails gently trailed down his chest.

Hips inadvertently rolling over Harry’s as his large hand still gripped your ass, you could feel the heat radiating off him, could feel him grow harder underneath the thin layers of fabric that separated the two of you. Hand guiding your hips to repeat the action, Harry groaned against your skin, lips finding yours once again.

Hand trailing up under your shirt, calloused fingers stopping by your ribs. The whine into his mouth as he pressed hot, sloppy kisses onto your lips, was the only urge he needed to grab your breast in his hand, tugging at your nipple between his index and thumb. Back arching at his action, pressing your chest against his hand as you craved more of his touch.

“Can feel you,” you panted, voice nearly incoherent as you trailed your mouth away from his. Tongue gliding over the skin of his neck, you caught the skin under his jaw between your teeth. “Can feel you everywhere.”

Pulling away from his neck, you tugged at his hair, watched as his eyelids fluttered open. The sight of you before him was enough for him to let out a low moan. Your lips red and puffed, eyes glazed over, tank top falling off of your shoulders.

Harry’s appearance matched yours, hair tousled, his eyes gazing at you zealously. “Can I,” he rasped, fingertips trailing over your waist. “Can I touch you.” His words were almost more of a demand rather than a question but he still didn’t move, waiting for your answer.

You quickly nodded, not trusting your voice to be coherent. He leaned in again, mouth over the shell of your ear. “Gotta tell me love.”

Clearing your throat, your voice sounding hazy as you muttered into the air. “Want you,” Harry pulled his mouth away, gaze meeting yours again.

“Thought about yours fingers on me, want them.”

His mouth hanging open for a second, before scurrying a hand around the band of your pyjama shorts. Fingers trailing under the waistband, you breathed out his name as he fingers moved slowly, barely brushing over your skin.

“Harry,” you groaned, rutting your hips forward, feeling yourself absolutely throbbing for him.

You watched his face, watched a grin line his lips as he watched you writhe on top of him. He loved watching you like this, knowing he would never be able to get over seeing you on top of him, pleading for you. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want, love,” he rasped. “Tell me what you’ve thought about; thought about me doing to you.”

Another whine was heard from your mouth, knowing he was loving having you so powerless to him, even as you sat on top of him.

You swallowed thickly, licking your lips before agreeing to what he wanted. “I – I’ve thought about your fingers, on my clit.”

You gasped as soon as you spoke, feeling his index finger press through your folds until it met your clit. He rubbed light, slow circles on it, before stopping to urge you on. “Then what?”

“I thought – I want you to feel how wet I am.” Your lips moved towards his skin again, sucking softly as you made yourself down his neck and flattened both hands over his chest.

“Jesus fuck,” Harry groaned your name, finger pushing itself through your wetness. His palm flattened against you, moving slick finger back to your clit. “So wet, dripping for me, hm?”

Your answer was a moan, rejoicing as he applied pressure on your clit once again. “For you…” You mumbled circling your hips on Harry’s hand as he rubbed slow, hard circles on your clit.

“All f’me,” Harry muttered to himself, quietly, repeatedly, as if he couldn’t believe it.

And truthfully, he couldn’t believe. So many times, he pulled his eyes away from you, not wanting you to notice him staring at you. So many times, he thought about you as he held his cock in his hand, your name lacing his moans. So many times, he held you close any chance he got.

Now here he sat with you situated yourself on top of him, lips hungrily nipping at his skin; his hands down your shorts as you impatiently moaned for him.

His movements on your clit speeding up, your kisses getting sloppier as whimpers fell freely from you mouth. Suddenly stopping, his voice above you pulling your attention away from his chest and back to his face.

“What next, love?”

“In me,” the words left your mouth in a rush. “Want your fingers inside of me.”

He followed your words, middle finger sliding down your folds, slowly pushing into you. Watching you react to him, he smirked as your eyes fluttered closed, sucking your lips in between your teeth.

“Like that?” His finger pumped slowly inside of you, curling roughly in a way that made you collapse your chest against his.

“Yes,” you breathed out, feeling him find a pace, as his thumb moved up to press small circles on your clit. You pressed yourself against him, circling your hips on his finger as you craved more of him. You could feel him hard under you, the thought of him hot and heavy making you clench around his finger. “More,” the word was strangled, as you panted on top of him.

Harry soon slipped in another finger, stretching you wider. You loved the way he felt inside of you, moan slipping past your lips at the thought of how his cock would fill you. The image of him bare in front of you earlier on that night flashed through your mind, imagining how he would look now, full and hard for you.

You felt the building of an orgasm in the pit of your stomach, heat rushing through your body. Harry’s pace on your clit increased, feeling you clench around his fingers.

“’ m close.” You moaned, although Harry already knew. He watched as you clung to him, nails digging into his bare chest. Your breath was heavy, small whines building in the back of your throat, and you tried to bite back your moans, mostly unsuccessful in doing so.

He pushed his fingers deep inside of you, curling them and hitting that spot that made you gasp his name. “Harry I –” you warned, unable to hold back your climax.

“Go ahead,” his lips neared your ear, urging you on. “Want you to come for me.”

You pulled your head from his chest at his words, meet his gaze. Harry reveled in the way your eyes were glazed over in desire, cheeks red as he moved to push you over the edge.

Your lips slotting against his, you left lazy kisses on his mouth before feeling your jaw go slack. Orgasm coursing through you, you stilled your hips, feeling yourself clench around his fingers. Nails digging into his chest, lip biting down onto his bottom one, you tried to stifle the moan that had been building, released from your throat as Harry made you cum.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he watched as your tried to regain your breath, grip loosening on him as you detached yourself from him. Harry pulled his hand from your shorts, watching his fingers coated with your arousal. Your eyes followed his hand as he moved his fingers into his mouth, moan rumbling from his chest as he tasted you.

“You’re incredible,” he muttered, wet fingers gripping at your thigh. He leaned in, kissing you slowly, deeply. You hummed against his mouth, as if returning his comment. You trailed your hands down over his shorts as you kissed him, palm sliding over his covered cock.

You trailed your hands down over his shorts as you kissed him, palm sliding his covered cock. You felt him jerk against you, lips pulling away from yours for a second.

“I – don’t worry about me love,” Harry murmured, hand rising to cup your face. “I mean, we don’t have to keep going.”

You smiled up at him, moving in to press a small kiss to his lips. His concern over you comfort moved you, but you did want to keep going.

“Want to though,” you said as you pulled away from his mouth. Smile on your lips, words slow as you spoke them. “Want to have you inside of me.”

Harry’s mouth hung open for a second, your name rumbling in the back of his throat. His ears were ringing, all his focus set on you in front of him.

“I…” hands brushing along the skin on his waist, needing to remind himself that this was really happening, that you were really sitting here with him, asking him to fuck you.

“If you want,” you quickly added.

“You,” he pressed chaste kisses along your cheek, until his lips met you ear. “You want me to fuck you?” His words were slow, drawing out every word, leaving goosebumps down your neck.

“Yeah,” you sighed into the air, wanting so badly to feel him closer to you.

“Harry I – I want you to fuck me. Please.”

His fingers dug into the hips at your words. “Such a dirty mouth,” he gulped, inhaling sharply.  

He kissed you, desperate and hard against you. “Take this off,” pulling at the hem of the thin tank top barely covering your chest, wanting to feel you completely against him.

Obeying, you broke apart from him for a beat to tug the shirt over your head, throwing it to the side. His eyes immediately dropping down to your newly exposed chest, hands sliding up your ribs to grab at the swell of your breasts.

Head dipping down, lips leaving kisses down your skin, sucking softly. You hummed appreciatively when his lips circled around your nipple, tugging it between his teeth. His hand grabbed at your other breast, massaging and tugging at the skin.

Your own hands scrapped over the band of his shorts, fingers dipping past the waistband of his briefs, flattening your palm over his bulge, hand wrapping around him. You remembered the way he looked naked in front of you, thinking that he would feel thick and heavy in your hand. And you were right.

He felt even bigger in your palm, hips bucking into your hand. Moving your hand down his shaft, thumb rubbing over his tip collecting the bit of precum that had gathered. He mumbled your name, pulling his head away from your chest as your other hand tugged at his hair.

You moved down his lap a bit, shifting away from him enough to pull his shorts and briefs down his thighs, shifting for him to kick them off and to the floor next to you.

Your mouth gaped open, watching as his cock laid thick and hard against his abdomen. He smirked at you, watching as you were unable to pull your eyes away from him.

Staring unashamedly as your hands reached forward to wrap around him once again.

“Earlier,” Harry groaned, hips bucking into your hand. “Took everything I had to not get hard, when you were drawing me.”

You hummed at his words, pleased to hear you weren’t the only one thinking of lunging on the other, when he sat naked for you as you drew him. He watched as you lifted yourself on your knees, fingers pushing on your shorts as you tugged them over your hips, hooking each leg out of them as they joined the clothes on the floor.

“Fuck I…” Harry groaned, eyes scanning your bare body. “I don’t have a condom.” He met your eyes, sudden panic filling him. “ ‘m clean I swear, I would never…”

You nodded, cutting off his rambling. “Me too,” right now wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you. “Clean, I mean. ‘M on the pill too.” Words barely a whisper as they left your lips, voice hoarse. “Harry please, want you in me.”

You shuffled closer to him on his lap, raising your hips so your folds slid over his cock. He pressed a long heavy kiss to your lips, muttering against your mouth.

“Christ love, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

A hand placed over yours, he gripped the base of his cock, as his other hand held your hips against him. Moving your hands to his shoulders to hold yourself, as you slowly sank down around his length.

The two of you let out shaky breaths, your cheek resting against his shoulder as you felt him fill you. You paused, not used to his size. “You okay?” He muttered onto your temple, waiting for you to move against him.

Lifting your head, you nodded weakly, slowly circling your hips over him. One of his hands moved to grip your ass, as the other held tightly to your waist. He was pressed tightly against you, skin hitting yours as your chest quickly rose and fell.

“So full,” you choked out, watery eyes meeting his. Harry felt his cock twitch inside of you, seeing you completely falling apart on top of him.

“S’okay, love.” He murmured softly, head dipping down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Take your time.”

You lifted your hips on his, moving on him in slow, hot movements. Your head burying back into the crook of his neck. You could feel him everywhere, skin completely flush against yours. He was so deep inside of you, hitting deliciously in all the right places.

You set a slow pace, feeling him rub everywhere inside of you. Harry’s hips pushed into yours as he moved with you, trying to stop himself from roughly thrusting into you.

Harry loved the sound of the pants, laced with small whines as they left your throat. He wanted to hear nothing but that, along with the way you called his name as you felt him everywhere inside of you.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he grunted into your ear, lips kissing and teeth tugging at your skin. “Taking me in so good.”

Hips rocking over his, you tried to speed up your pace, wanting to feel him tight against you. “Harry,” your throat rasped, voice strangled as you spoke his name, fingers tugging at his shoulders.

“Harry,” you said louder, tugging tightly at his hair. “More,” was the only word you were capable of forming, hoping he could understand your strangled words. “Want more.”

Gripping your thighs tightly, Harry gave no warning before rolling you over. You suddenly found him flush on top of you, hair dangling in your face as he pulled you in for a kiss. Large palm hooking itself under your knee, pulling your leg up as he urged you to hook up legs tightly around his waist.

He groaned at the contact, feeling himself even deeper inside of you. “Good?” He asked, checking with you before moving.

Muffled moan being heard from you as you quickly nodded, wanting him so desperately to move.

Moving his hips on yours, his hips snapped back against yours in short rough thrusts into you. You clenched around him at the new contact, eliciting your name to fall from Harry’s mouth in a short strangled cry.

“Don’ fucking do that,” he said, voice clipped and pausing for a second, before continuing his deep thrusts into you. “Wanna las’ for you.”

He continued his momentum over you, as you arched yourself to be closer to him, fingers digging into the skin on his back. Only sounds to be heard were of skin against skin, and with breathless heaves mixed with the moaning of names, and the panting of curses and calling to gods.

His hands were everywhere on you, palming over your breasts, your thighs, your hips. His fingers dug into the skin of your ass, pushing you up to meet his skin, your back arching as you whimpered at his pressure.

Harry bowed his head, looking down where his hips connected to yours. He found it so incredibly hot, as he watched himself sink in and out of you. His name was falling freely from your mouth, calls getting louder, spurring him on. He wanted nothing other than to watch you unravel for him again.

“Fuck Ha –” you whined. “Harry more, more.” Small tears forming in the corner of your eyes once again, getting caught in your eyelashes as you squeezed your eyes shut.

You felt your second orgasm building in you, unable to hold back. You moaned especially loudly as you felt a hand snake in between of your bodies, long finger dragging onto your clit, pressing, rubbing at it deeply.

“Tha’ s it love,” he mumbled, watching you grow more frantic under him. Head ducking down again, this time to connect his lips to the skin your chest, biting as he urged you on. “You desperate?” He continued. “Want me to fuck you hard? Want to cum around me?”

You were overwhelmed with sensation, having him fill you so tightly, his finger rubbing on your incredibly sensitive clit, his hair tickling your jaw and his mouth licking and biting at your skin.

So completely overwhelmed with the bubbling climax in the pit of your stomach, your gripped onto Harry so tightly you were sure to draw blood under your nails.

“Go on love,” Harry urged softly, the grin evident in his words. Your eyes were squeezed shut, teeth digging into your lips as you tried to stifle the moans of his name.

The combination of Harry hitting the same spot repeatedly inside of you, your senses filled him. The hot heat from his skin, his voice in your ears, his cologne. It was all too much for you, as you felt him push you towards your climax.

“Harry,” falling apart under him, you writhed as you held him close to you, walls clenching around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm, pace slowing down as his felt himself start to twitch inside of you. Your thighs squeezed him tight, ankles hooking behind him as you thrust your hips up into his. Arms were wrapped tightly around him, nails dragging into his skin. You felt dizzy, eyes squeezed shut as you couldn’t help yourself from crying out.

Slowly, starting to calm down from your climax, Harry watched as you opened watery eyes, gazing up at him with nothing but lust. Sense of satisfaction filling his head as he moved to kiss the corners of your eyes, wiping away the small tears that spilled over.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned your name, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to last for much longer. “You’re unbelievable.”

He kissed his way down your face, his lips buried in the crook of your neck as you quietly urged him on, voice hoarse as you wanted him to finish inside of you.

“Cum f’me,” you rasped, eyes lazily gazing down at him, moving a hand up to brush through his hair.

Pressure unbearable for Harry, he halted on top of you, only movement being of his hips grinding tightly on yours as he fell off the brink. You could feel him pulse, hot bursts as he came inside of you. His teeth dug into your shoulder, your name hot on his lips as he let out heavy pants. He praised you endlessly, words nonsensical as they spilled out of his mouth. He was a mess.

Eventually lifting his head, eyes hazy as he grinned down at you and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. Staying like that for a moment, neither of you moving as you lay tight against each other. Shaky arms pushing himself up, he pulled himself out of you, and rolled over to his side.

“Le’ me get you cleaned up.” He mumbled, eyes trailing over you as he watched the mess he created at the corner of your thighs.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, rising on the bed. You turned to the edge of the bed, legs wobblily as you situated yourself on your feet.

“Coming right back, yeah?” Suddenly worried that you might already regret what the two of you just did.

“‘Course,” you giggled, before shuffling out of the room and into the washroom. After peeing and cleaning yourself up the best you could, you caught a glance of your reflection in the mirror.

You had sex written all over your features. Lips dark and swollen, eyes hazy and hair a mess. Marks on your breasts from where Harry had sucked, already turning purple.

About to leave the washroom, you paused in your steps. You could hear the rest of the group, you could hear the key slid into the lock. As quietly as you could, you ran from the washroom to Harry’s room, quickly closing the door behind you.

Turning around, you saw Harry lounging back on the bed, pair of briefs now covering his hips. He had tossed the sheet on the floor, replacing it with a new one you assumed he had grabbed from your own bed.

You scurried over to grab your discarded clothes on the floor, looking up as Harry made a sound of protest. “Want you to wear my clothes,” he said, pointing up to where he had set some of his own clothes for you to wear.

You grinned at him, bringing your finger to your mouth in a shushing motion, trying to tell him the others had come home, thinking it was probably best that they thought you were asleep instead of naked together.

Pulling the boxers and shirt on, you quickly shut off the lights in the room and slid on the bed next to him. “They’re home,” you whispered, accepting his arm that pulled you closer to him.

He didn’t say anything to that, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. “You okay?” He said instead, trying to read what you were thinking about what just happened.

“Yeah,” you mumbled against him, small nod of your head as you couldn’t help your grin at his concern for you. “Tired.”

“That was,” Harry’s chest resonated under your head as he spoke. “That was unbelievable, yeah?”

You could feel him watching you, unmoving. You lifted your head, eyes meeting his. “Yeah, it was.” Your voice was shaky with a laugh, still in a daze.

You felt him sigh against you, body relaxing with yours as you settled your head back against his chest. “Good,” he muttered, so quietly you nearly missed it, before you drifted off to sleep.

                                                              ***

Harry woke up before you.

His arms were still wrapped around you, bodies flush together, sunlight filling the room.

His left arm felt a bit numb, as it rested underneath your head, but he didn’t mind. The two of you had fallen asleep almost immediately the night before, as soon as you rested your head on his chest you had dozed off, Harry following quickly as he watched your chest rhythmically rise and fall.

He hadn’t had time to properly reflect on the time you guys had together the night before, the time you guys spent with hot lips and wandering hands. Harry had thought about sex with you before, more than he’d like to admit. But the one thing he never really got around to thinking about, was what would happen afterwards.

Not wanting to move around too much to wake you up, he lifted his head up to glance around the room. Clothes were scattered around the floor, along with the sketchbook that was thrown aside when you had moved to sit on his lap.

Head hitting the pillow once again, he tugged you closer to him as he replayed the events on the night before over and over again in his head. For as long as Harry thought about it, dreamt about it, nothing compared to the reality. The way you had gasped, whimpered and whined for him, the way you had clung to him so tightly. The way you had fit so perfectly with him. Harry couldn’t believe it.

Just as Harry thought about what to say to you when you woke up, you stirred in his arms. He froze, trying to slow his heartbeat down and maybe pretend he had just woken up as well.

He didn’t know why he was so stressed all of the sudden, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe you would slide out of his arms and pretend like nothing ever happened. He watched as you rolled onto your back, Harry’s arm sliding across your stomach as you moved.

Your eyes were still shut, and for a second Harry thought you were still asleep.

“Can feel you watching me,” your voice suddenly broke him out of his daze.

Not being able to help the grin breaking out on his face, he didn’t try to hide the fact that you had caught him. He hummed, now that you were awake finding the chance to move his arm from under you. “M’ arms numb.”

You felt his arm wiggle out from under your head, shaking it out when it was free. He rolled over onto his side, still facing you and making sure to keep his other arm wrapped over your waist.

“Sleep well?” Harry watched as you rolled over onto your side, facing him.

“Yeah,” he spoke lowly, voice still raspy from sleep. “Real well.” He watched the gleam in your eyes as you returned his smile, nodding.

“I’m bummed you’re leaving tonight,” he muttered, fingertips gliding under the loose shirt that hung around you, thumb rubbing circles on the skin of you hip.

“You’re leaving too,” your eyebrows shot up, voice soft but tone loud.

“Yeah,” Harry’s voice drawled the word out, bottom lip between his teeth as he bit back a smile. “But we’re headin’ different ways. Not goin’ to see you for a bit.”

“Won’t be that long.” You grinned up at him, although sharing the sentiment. “I should shower,” you mumbled, shooting Harry a grin before turning over in the bed to then roll off, standing to your feet. Harry watched as the sun filtering through the window hit you, he couldn’t help but admire the way it made you glow.

You shuffled on your feet, legs the tiniest bit unstable, as you reached for your scattered clothes on the floor. “Should get some pastries for breakfast, yeah?” Harry’s voice pulled your attention back to him.

“Definitely,” you beamed at him, pausing before opening his door as you listened for anyone else being out.

“Y’look good in my shirt, love.” Harry spoke once more from behind you. Smile widening, you sent him what you hope was a subtle wink, before slipping out of his room and heading to the washroom.

Harry sank back down into the mattress as the door closed behind you, hands running over his face. Fucking hell, he thought to himself. The smell of your perfume still overwhelmed his senses, surrounding him and the sheets around him.

“Christ,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your appearance in the mirror. Red and purple marks along your breasts from where Harry had bit and sucked, you were glad they were just low enough to be concealed by clothing.

Stepping into the shower, your mind played the events from the night before over and over again. Remembering the ways his hands hand trailed all over your body, gripping and pulling at you. Biting your lip as you recalled everything, he had muttered to you, how much he told you he wanted you, and how much you had returned the sentiment.

After all these years of knowing each other, all the subtle glances at each other, all the lingering grabs and wandering hands, this had felt right.

You quite frankly don’t know why it had taken so long. You kicked yourself a bit for not making a move sooner, but you knew that you couldn’t find it in yourself to be the one to initiate anything. You also knew that Harry probably took so long to make a move because you gave unclear signs, but that was neither here nor there.

Deciding to push any worries out of your mind for now, thinking that it would be best to deal with it when the time comes. Instead, you got ready for the day after your shower.

Pulling on a floral sundress, you kept Harry’s shirt in your room, knowing that you could get away with taking it from him before you guys parted ways.

Harry was true to his word, and had headed out to grab some delicacies for breakfast. Everyone out and ready to eat, you joined them at the table that sat in the sun on the balcony.

As you sat around the small table, you and Harry sharing looks, knees bumping. Harry reveled at how normal everything felt. There was no awkwardness, nothing felt weird or uncomfortable. You weren’t avoiding him, or acting strange around him.

Although it being a good thing that neither of you were uncomfortable, Harry realized that there had been basically no mention of the night spent together. Although the very rational thought that it had been mere hours since the two of you had slept together, only being awake for a couple of those hours.

Everything about that was extremely rational, but Harry still wanted to say something, anything to just bring it to air. He didn’t want you guys to bury the night into nothing, into something that you would once and a while remember but never say thing about.

“You got a hickey on your tit.”

That’ll do it.

Figuring the opportunity would present itself as you headed to the kitchen to grab some more peaches, Harry had followed. He wordlessly watched as you bent over to grab the little produce bag across the counter, his eyes dropping down to low cut of your dress where he noticed the little marks he left on your skin the night before.

Shooting up at his quiet words, you felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you looked down, both hopping to hide the blush and to fix the neckline of your dress, so that the top of your breasts were covered.

“Looks good on you,” he mumbled quickly after, after you didn’t say anything.

“Stop that.” You muttered, knowing your cheeks were glowing red as you thought back to a mere twelve hours ago when Harry had his mouth sucking on the skin on your breast. Harry couldn’t help the smirk that dawned on his lips, watching you flush as he reminded you of the feeling on his lips on your skin.

“Seemed to like it.”

Harry watched as you grabbed a bowl for the fruit, holding it against you before stepping past him. “Why do you think I wore such a low cut dress today?”

                                                              ***

Two bottles of prosecco had been shared in the early afternoon, a last little celebration of sorts before the realization that everyone had to pack. It had been such a nice afternoon, almost a perfect ending to the time you guys had spent here in Italy.

Almost.

Harry was dying to get you alone.

Pacing around his room for a second as he was itching to storm down your door. Why hadn’t he kissed you.

During a morning of quiet glances, teasing smiles and light touches, Harry had been so focused on trying to talk to you, or show that everything would be okay, that he never found the opportunity to kiss you. He was supposed to be packing up his things, or at least starting to pack up, but he couldn’t stop thinking

The next time Harry would see you would be in a rushed goodbye, before you head over to the train station. After that, who knows when the next time you will see each other. Realistically, it wouldn’t be that long. But the way it stood right now, both yours and Harry’s schedule were so erratic there was really no telling.

The sketchpad on the floor caught his eye. You hadn’t retrieved it from last night, and it still sat on the floor where you had tossed it. Quickly grabbing it, he walked down the hall to knock at your door.

As the door opened, Harry suddenly felt breathless.

“Hey,” he exhaled. “You forgot this.”

Walking into your room as you stepped aside, quietly shutting the door behind him. He didn’t know why it felt so intimate, standing together in a closed room, but as soon as the door clicked closed, he felt his cheeks warm.

He glanced around your room, seeing that you hadn’t gotten that far in your packing either.

“I uh,” Harry stumbled over his words as you remained fairly quiet, grabbing the sketchpad from his hands. “I hate packing.” He grinned, happy to see your shoulders shake with a laugh as you agreed, sliding onto your bed.

“Me too,” you scoffed, not even wanting to be faced with everything you had to shove back into your bag. “Plus, prosecco’s making me sleepy.”

Harry tentatively sat next to you, watching as you flipped through the pages of your sketches. “You should keep the drawings of you.” You mumbled, starting to tear the pages out. “If you want.”

“You gotta keep this last one,” Harry’s voice was a quiet, as he watched you flip to the last drawing you had done of him, probably no less than twenty-four hours ago when he sat naked in front of you.

You didn’t miss the smug smirk that grew on his lips, as he glanced between you and the drawing that sat in front of you.

“And what do you suppose I do with it?”

“I’ll leave that up to you love.”

His eyes lingered as neither of you spoke for a moment too long. You jumped up suddenly, moving back towards the door as you knew you could easily be swayed to have Harry stay in your room.

“I should pack,” your voice coming out quieter than intended. Harry slowly rose from the bed, watching your turn to reach for the doorknob to usher him out of your room.

“Oh …!”

His hand came to grip your elbow, catching you by surprise as he pulled you closer until your body faced his.

Your eyes catching the gleam in Harry’s eyes as he puled you closer to him. “What are you…?” You watched as he shushed you, hand sliding down your arm until it gently held your own. You slightly fell back to lean against the wall behind you, hand remaining intertwined with Harry’s but just slightly moving back from him.

“Still wearing m’ shirt.” Was all he mumbled to you, as you glanced down to the shirt covering your body. It was the shirt Harry had put out for you last night as you crawled back into bed with him, shirt you had pulled on today as you went to pack up your clothes.

“Oh,” was all you could say, meeting his gaze again, expression unreadable. “I – I’ll get it back to your before I go.”

Eyes holding his, you watched with some relief as a grin dawned on his lips. “Love,” he drawled out, hands reaching back out to you, grabbing hold of your arms, fingertips trailing down your skin until his hands clasped with yours.

“As much as I’d like you to take your shirt off for me right now,” his smirk deepened, dimple on his cheek, tugging you to him. “Keep it.”

“Harry,” his name was a whisper from your lips, trying to bite back your growing smile.

“Just wanted,” he mumbled, instinctively licking his lips. One of his hands let go of yours, sliding around to the small of your back.

Your breath hitched as he moved in closer to you, mouth suddenly on yours. You leaned in against him, hand reaching up to his jaw. He kissed you slowly, tongue smoothing against yours as he gripped into the fabric of his shirt that hung off your back. Your body was completely embracing his, responding and returning his every movement.

His kisses were slow and hot, drawing you in for more the longer you went on. They were different from yesterday, not as urgent but just as fervent. He left you completely breathless as he pulled away for a moment, face staying inches away form yours.

“Just wanted a taste,” he rasped, hand squeezing your hip. “Kicking myself for not kissing you all day.”

“Needed an excuse to come on over, just to kiss me?” You giggled, still slightly breathless.

“Well,” he grinned, hands resting just under your shirt as his thumbs rubbed small circles onto the skin of your hips. “Didn’t want to just barge into your room, not very gentlemanly.”

“I uh,” he paused, not giving you a chance to say anything. “I’m really gonna miss you.” Your expression softened at his words, cheeks warming up. “Going to miss you too Harry.”

“Meant what I said las’ night, too.” He hummed, as every dirty thing he muttered to you flashed through your mind. “Wanted you – wanting you,” he quickly corrected himself. “I – I think about you all the time, love.”

Cheeks warming even more, you thought over his words. “You don’t have to say anything,” he added. “I just,” he pulled his lips between his teeth for a moment. “Jus’ needed to say something.”

“Harry… don’t worry about it,” you whispered, voice soft as his words made you smile. “I, uh, I meant what I said last night too.” You spoke quietly, almost unsure of yourself.

A smirk returned to Harry’s lips. “What exactly? Said a lot last night, love.” Memories of you begging, and whining for him rang through his ears. He watched you take your bottom lip between your teeth, hesitating before speaking.

“About – everything.” You breathed out, not trusting yourself to say too much. A beat of silence passed between the two of you.

“I should really pack. I leave in nearly an hour.” You mumbled, knowing that if you didn’t say anything he might end up in the bed with you.

“Wait!” Harry said, voice louder as he stopped you from leaving. “Humour me love,” he paused, beaming at you. “What exactly from what you said last night?”

“Need a good ego stroke that’s it?” You grinned, shaking your head at him.

“C’mon love,” he grinned down at you as you shuffled closer to him, chest pressing against his as you glanced up at him. “Bore my soul to you, least you can do no?”

You perched your head up, lips nearing his ear. “Well,” you paused, lips brushing over the skin of his jaw. “Meant what I said about thinking about you,” pausing, you moved closer to his ear, voice dropping. “Filling me, making me cum.”

Harry visibly gulped; eyes intense on you. “You are,” he paused, leaning forward as his mouth chased yours. “Incredible.” The word was muffled as his mouth found yours. His grip on you tightened, one hand sliding on your skin, under your shirt, until it met the small of your back again.

Harry kissed you heavily once again, mouth hot, silently calling you closer to him. “Jus’ one more, yeah?” He mumbled; voice low as he only pulled away for a second.

Just as he said, pushed himself close against you and left one long, deep, kiss to your mouth.

He brought a hand up to your cheek, holding your face still, holding your gaze. “So incredible, y’know that?”

“Think you mentioned that.” You grinned, already missing his mouth on yours.

“Got to tell you again,” he mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to your mouth. “Consider this a going away present.”

Harry gave your hand one more squeeze, before reaching for the doorknob. You couldn’t stop the smile still tugging at the corner of your lips, the feeling of Harry’s mouth still on yours.

You were glad to know that the both of you were seemingly on the same page, both attracted to the other. Part of you knew that nothing was really clear with you guys, that both of you had said that ‘nothing would change’, but that was something to worry about later.

For now, you reveled in the way his lips moved with yours, the way his hands tugged you closer to him.

Rushing through your packing, as you felt yourself stuck in a daze. Part from a sudden hit of exhaustion, part from the effect Harry had left. You told yourself that you would sleep on the train, the ride being longer than it needed as it passed through Switzerland and made multiple stops before you reached your destination.

Finalizing everything that needed to get packed up, you headed over to the kitchen to grab some food for the ride. You had bought some extra pastries and fruits for yourself yesterday, knowing you would want to eat during your ride.

You were surprised to see Harry already in the kitchen, shuffling around as he placed fruit into a little bag. “Hey,” he smiled up at you, beginning of a setting sun glowing orange from behind him.

“What are you doing?”

He grinned, passing you the bag he was holding. “Some food for your trip.”

Sucking your lips between your teeth, you try to hide your smile. He had already prepared you a little bag of treats, one that you were going to grab for yourself. “Thank you,”

After trying your best to quickly pack, you spend the little time you had left to draw a little something for Harry. You were a bit nervous, thinking that maybe you shouldn’t slip the folded drawing into Harry’s things. But now, you were certain you needed to.

“One sec,” you mumbled, stepping away from him and quietly making your way back to your room. Grabbing the folded paper where you had left it, you went to head over to Harry’s room to place it with his things, but found Harry waiting for you in the hallway.

“Open this later,” you whispered, sliding it in his palm.

“You better be ready to go!”

Voice pulling you away from Harry, as the rest of your group crowded around you, swarming you with hugs and goodbyes.

Harry had pulled you in extra tight with his goodbye, as you sank into his arms. He muttered a quiet “goodbye love” into your hair, not wanting to let you go. Still, he knew he had to pull away, fingertips trailing down you arms as he didn’t want to fully let you go.

He did have to let go though, and you did have to leave.

After you left, Harry made up some excuse about wanting to finish packing now, before shutting his room door behind him. Fidgeting with the paper still in his hands, quickly unfolding it.

Fuck.

His mouth gaped open as his eyes focused on the drawing you had done for him. Eyes skimming over every line and detail on the page, all coming together to shape your figure.

Your very naked figure.

It was your entire body, slightly bent as if you were sitting back against the head board of a bed. One leg folded up as the other one extended out, knees just slightly parted. It was all done just in pencil, just like the sketches you had done of Harry. Your face in the image wasn’t too detailed, but unmistakably you. The sketch was all a bit rough, lines skewing out everywhere, but Harry didn’t care.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the drawing, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. He almost felt bad, like he shouldn’t be getting hot and bothered from such a delicately sketched drawing. Although nude, there was something so elegant about it. This wasn’t something quick to get off on, it was something for him to really remember you by.

Still, as he took in every curve and bend in your body, remembering the way his hands felt on you, the way your body felt with his, he felt his mouth go dry. He picked up his phone, wanting to text you even though you had just left.

“Beautiful drawing as usual.”

You glanced down at your phone, rereading Harry’s text for the fifth time. You chewed at your lip, unable to keep the smile from your lips. Having just arrived at the station and already having purchased your ticket before hand, you made your way to wait for your train that had yet to arrive.

“Just something to help keep you occupied.”

Just as your phone buzzed in your hands, your cheeks warmed as you read is words.

“Trust me love, won’t be able to get you out of my mind.”

[atlafan]

The Boys Next Door

a/n: I have no idea where this came from. enjoy some smut and some other college!Harry. 

You lived in a college town, and your parents were landlords for many college students. They owned a few different properties along one of the street close to campus. You were twenty-one and going into your senior year. You didn’t mind going to school where you grew up. You went somewhere else your first year, just to get out of town for a while, but eventually coming home was the best choice. Plus, you got to live off campus in one of your parent’s apartments with your friends. You were having a great time.

They wanted to go on vacation, do a little traveling this summer, so they put you in charge of one of their smaller properties. The home you were in this summer was converted into two apartments, side by side. Your parents had someone else to run the larger properties, but they had a great deal of trust in you. You happily accepted, especially since you could take a cut of the rent as pay. You also weren’t too upset because the boys moving in next door were really cute. Soon to be seniors as well. They were international students, and as much as they liked going home, they were still college students. It was easier to save up the airfare for the holidays, rather than to fly home for the summer.

You’d be in your apartment alone. Your friends all had to go home to their families and jobs, not that you minded. You loved being crazy with them, but the alone time would be great. You put the keys to the other apartment outside under the mat, and emailed them to let them know. You also left instructions on rules for living there. Your parents weren’t in the business of dealing with idiots.

It was a beautiful day out, so you decide to set up the small inflatable pool out back, and throw on a two piece to sunbathe in. You get your lawn chair, put some sunscreen on, and dip your feet into the pool. You crack a hard seltzer open and throw your shades on. You sigh with happiness and relaxation.

The boys, Harry Styles, Niall Horan, and Louis Tomlinson, all show up to the apartment. They find the keys and head inside. They get all their things moved in and wheel their grill out back. There was no fence between the two sides, but it was still clear that it wasn’t an overly shared space.

“Oh shit!” Niall says, pointing to you. “Is that our landlord?”

“I think so.” Louis says.

“We should go introduce ourselves then.” Harry says. “After all, she could be hungry for somethin’ off the grill.”

The three walk over to you. You had your headphones in and you had fallen asleep.

“Excuse us.” Louis says. You don’t move. “Think she’s asleep…”

Harry rolls his eyes and nudges your shoulder.

“Huh?!” Your eyes snap open and you flinch when you see three very good looking men standing above you. “Um…can I help you?” You stand up and look for your cover up, but you never brought it out. Your two piece was strapless, and a little revealing.

“Sorry to wake yeh, I’m Harry.” You shake his hand. “This is Niall and Louis, we’re your tenants.”

“Oh!” You laugh. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys. I’ve seen you around though, you’re all on the soccer team, right?”

“That’s right.” Niall says.

“We were just about to fire up the grill, wanna join?” Louis asks.

“Sure! I actually have some fresh lemonade in the fridge inside, I’ll bring it over.”

“Sounds good.” Harry says.

They go back over to the grill and you go inside. You grab a large t-shirt to throw on, and the jug of lemonade out of the fridge. You grab some solo cups as well, and you head over to their side.

“I don’t wanna be a Debby Downer, but my parents wanted me to remind you guys that you’re getting a discounted rate because you agreed to mow the lawn, and shovel once winter comes. Everything you need is in the shed.” You point to it. “The keys for it are inside a combination box. The combo’s on the paper I left in the kitchen.”

“Thanks, yeah, we found that. No worries, the lawn will look perfect.” Niall assures you and you smile at him.

“Any other official business? I’d like to add some vodka to this lemonade.” Harry says, shaking the cold bottle in his hand.

“Nope, that’s it for now. Please, make the drinks.” You say.

“What can I make yeh, love?” Louis asks.

“I’d love a cheeseburger, please and thank you.” He nods to you and Harry hands you your drink. “Thanks.”

“So, you’re all alone in there this summer?” Niall asks.

“Mhm. My friends will come up for a weekend here and there, but I don’t mind it. This is my favorite apartment of the ones my parents own, I’m excited to be alone in it for a bit.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, just give us a call.” Harry winks and you blush as you bite the rim of your cup.

You all enjoy mini BBQ and get to know each other more. You all talk about your majors and how excited you all were to be seniors.

“We’re gonna head down to the pub later if you’d like to join us.” Niall says.

“That sounds great!”

“What’s your number, we can text you when we’re ready.” Harry says. You hand him your phone and he puts his number in.

You head into your apartment to shower and wash all the sunscreen off. You throw on a crop top and pair of shorts, and do your make up. Harry texts you when it’s time, and you walk downtown with them to the bar. You all find a booth, and he happens to be the one to sit next to you. Niall grabs the first round of beers.

“What do I owe you?”

“As if I would ever make a girl pay for her drinks.” Niall scoffs. “You don’t ever have to worry about that with us, Y/N.”

“Oh! That’s really nice of you.”

You all clink your glasses, and take a swig of your drinks. They ask you questions about what it was like growing up in the area, and you talk about what’s changed and what’s stayed the same. Eventually, you get a pretty good buzz going, and it makes you want to dance to the music playing. There were plenty of people out on the dance floor already.

“Do you guys wanna dance?”

“Sure!” They all say at the same time.

The four of you make your way to the dance floor, and you start dancing. You all giggle and have a great time. You got a little more drunk than you thought, and it hit you like a ton of bricks when you left the bar at closing.

“I’ll never understand how these places close at one in the morning. We’d just be gettin’ started back home.” Louis laughs.

Harry looks at you and sees you sort of struggling to walk.

“Want a piggy back ride?” He offers.

“Seriously?” You slur.

“Sure, come on.”

You hope onto his back and you giggle as your eyes start to droop. Yup, way too drunk.

“M’just gonna get her settled, I’ll be home in a minute.” He tells the two of them as he takes your key.

“My room’s upstairs.” You mumble and he hums his response. He pushes the door open and sets you down on your bed.

“Thanks.” You smile at him. “Tonight was fun. This’ll be a great summer.” You yawn.

“Yeah, it will be.”

Harry goes down to your kitchen to get you a glass of water. When he returns you’re passed out on your stomach. He leaves the water on your nightstand, and heads out. Niall and Louis were on the couch, eating some cold pizza, when he got back.

“She alright?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, passed out already. I left her some water.” Harry grabs a slice of pizza and sits down with them. “She’s cute, I like her.” He says with a full mouth.

“You should ask her out then.” Niall says. “She’s a lot of fun so far.”

“Too soon for that. I need to play it cool.”

“You’re too shy for your own good.” Louis says.

//

You spend a lot of time with the guys over the next couple of weeks. You go out with them to the bar quite a bit, and you all share many meals. Your favorite thing to do was happen to be outside when Harry mowed the lawn. He would do it shirtless, and he loved when you’d bring him out something cold to drink. You also liked watching them get into little games of soccer.

Sometimes at night you would go over there and watch them play video games, or maybe they’d come over to watch a movie. You found yourself to have gotten the closest with Harry.

Harry: too hot in my room…2:02AM

You: no fan? 2:10AM

Harry: it broke :( 2:12AM

You: I have ac…2:13AM

Harry: is that an invitation? ;p 2:14AM

You: if you want it to be ;p 2:15AM

You slip out of bed, and stop to look at yourself in the mirror. You usually slept naked…you sigh and throw on a large bed shirt, but that’s it. It covered everything just fine. You go downstairs and open the back door for Harry. He was only wearing shorts.

“Hi.” He smiles.

“Hi.” You smile back. “What are Niall and Louis doing?”

“Oh, both of their fans work just fine. I’ve been too lazy to go to the store, but I suppose suffering in sweat just isn’t worth it anymore.”

“Well, my room’s nice and cool, so come on up.”

You and Harry go up the stairs up to your room, and you close the door behind you.

“Oh my god.” He moans as he stands in front of the A/C. “Now this is livin’.” You can’t help but giggle at him. He watches as you reach into your dresser for a pair of shorts. You wiggle them up your body. “Were you not wearin’ anything under that before?”

“Nope.” You grin and sit on your bed. You pat the spot next to you.

“I can just sleep on the floor…”

“Don’t be silly, bed’s plenty big for the both of us.”

He nods and gets on with you. You both lay and face each other.

“Comfy.” He says.

“Mhm.” You push some hair away from his face. “You have nicest hair, have I ever told you that?”

“No. In fact, you could stand to compliment me a lot more.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. It’s the least you could do in exchange for all the free alcohol we give yeh.”

“Very true, okay, well, I also like your tattoos.” Your fingertips lightly graze his arm.

“You do?”

“Yeah, they’re cool.”

“What else do you like about me?” His leg gentle slides between yours.

“You have a great sense of humor, and you’re just really nice.”

“You’re nice too, and you’re really pretty.” Your cheeks flush, you were thankful it was dark. His leg inches up a little further between yours. “Sexy, actually.”

“God, I think you’re hot as fuck, Harry.”

“You do?”

“Mhm.” You adjust yourself on his leg, and move closer to him, your faces only inches apart now.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

He cups your cheek and pulls you into him, his mouth slotting over yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you sink further into the kiss. You open your mouth for him and he doesn’t waste any time getting his tongue on yours. You groan against him, and grind yourself on his thigh.

“I wanna fuck you so bad.” He groans.

“Okay.”

“What?” He pulls away. “Really? Just like that?”

“Sure, why not? I want it, can’t you tell?”

“Sometimes it’s not about bein’ able to tell…you wanna have sex with me?”

“Yes, I do.” You turn and reach into your night table to grab a condom. You place it on top of the table for when you need it. “I’m on the pill too, but I think using a condom is for the best.”

“Agreed.”

He moves to hover over you, and starts kissing you again.

“How long, ngh, how long have you wanted to fuck me for?”

“Since we met.” He mumbles as he starts to suck on your neck.

“Fuck, why didn’t you?”

“I was tryin’ to play it cool.” He chuckles against you.

He motions to have you sit up to take your shirt off, and he marvels at your breasts. He cups both of them in his large hands. He tweaks your nipples and leans in to suck on one of them. Your head rolls back as he kneads the other one.

“Harry…I wanna, I want you to…”

“Need my mouth somewhere else, angel?”

“Please.”

He gets between your legs and tugs your shorts down. You were glistening. He licks his lips and dives in. He licks a flat stripe from your center up to your clit, and circles the tip of his tongue around you before sucking on it. You gasp when he does so, and your hands fly to his hair to grip on. Your hips buck up when you feel two of his fingers slip inside you. He pumps in and out as he continues to work your clit with his mouth. You were panting, your body had never felt so good before.

“Holy fuck! Oh my god, don’t stop, Harry!” You moan out.

He pumps fast, brushing your g-spot. It was all too much, and you release around his fingers. He retracts them sucks them into his mouth.

“Tastes even better than I thought it would.”

“Get the condom on, now.”

He smirks and grabs the foil packet. He gets it open with his teeth, slides his shorts down. His hard clock slaps against his stomach and your jaw drops.

“Oh my god.” You say under your breath. “Harry, you’re so…big.”

“I know.” He mumbles as he slides the condom down his shaft. “Don’t be nervous, I won’t hurt you.”

“M’not worried about that.”

He leans in and lines himself up with you and slowly pushes inside. Your head rolls back into the pillow as you feel him stretch you out. Your nails press into his shoulders. Once he’s all the way in he gives you some time to adjust.

“Alright?”

“Mhm, you can move.”

He starts with slow thrusts, rocking in and out of you. You can’t help the moans that leave your lips. You had never felt so good before. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

“Go harder, Harry. I want you to make the bed shake.”

“Fuck.” He groans, and does as you say.

He grips your legs and puts them over his shoulders. He thrusts in hard and fast, and the bed does start to shake. His thumb finds your clit, and he rubs it furiously.

“Fuck, oh fuck, that’s it, oh my god!” He had you screaming. “Harry!” You cry out as you come around his cock.

He fucks you through it and comes to his own release, spilling into the condom. He collapses on top of you, and you kiss his neck over and over. He pulls himself up and gives you a kiss on the lips before pulling out.

“Where’s your trash, angel?”

“In that corner, next to my desk.”

He hums his response and gets up to throw it out. He hears you get off the bed and turns to look at you.

“Just going to use the bathroom, get comfy.” You smile.

He gets back on your bed and waits for you. When you come back you don’t even both with a shirt.

“I like to sleep naked, that okay?”

“You don’t see me wearin’ anything do you?” He smirks.

You get on the bed and lay your head on his chest. He puts his arm around you and rubs your back.

“That was, uh, really something.”

“Felt good?”

“Really good.”

“You took it really well. You were so wet, felt good for me too.” He kisses your hair line.

“You can come here to beat the heat any time you want.”

[in-superbloom]

okay so. i never really did a review (feels weird to call it a review tho so let's say a very opinionated essay that's totally the opposite of what college taught me) for wfttwtaf but i never really know how to do that for any album, doesn't matter how much it makes me feel feelings, bc i simply can't write about my own emotions in cohesive thoughts ✌🏻😔

so instead, i let my brain do this thing he usually does when i listen to an album that leaves an effect on me, which is pretty much just creating visuals for the songs bc apparently my feelings translate better into images/vibes rather than words lmao but since i am unfortunately not skilled to drawn/paint/created actual visual stuff, i just wrote them so i'm gonna leave them here bc why not <3

i just really love when music (art in general, but especially music for me) makes your mind run wild & be so inspired that you can't help but create something based on that feeling <3 a great example of that is the amount of art everyone here (on tumblr!sos verse, but also tumblr & the internet in general) create based on other peoples' art & i just *clenches fists* really love that 💜

anyways !! if you're reading this, i hope this makes sense to you & if you wanna chat about the album, my mail box is always open 💜

• track one: starting line – like the mv, but he's running like he's trying to get away from something, always looking behind his shoulder, stumbling on things/people on the streets. also maybe not flying?;

• track two: saigon – then he reaches a tiny but unique/eye-catching door, gets intrigued & enters. he has to go downstairs through a dark and narrow corridor, he hears muffled music coming down there. he reaches the door & the music is now clear, it looks like there are disco balls everywhere ((pink, blue and purple bc ofc)), the place is packed with people dancing & just vibing™. he goes to the dancefloor, but soon it gets overwhelming so he tries to reach a wall or the other end of the club, but he can't. the more he walks, the furthest he feels from the walls. everything has a psychedelic look, also some of those trippy effects he used on motion, and no one seems to notice/ care about him. this goes on until the end of the song, then he finally finds a door ((not the one he came from)) and opens it;

• track three: motion – he expects to find a street, but instead he's inside a room. it's a bit dark, all he sees are shadows, but then suddenly everything turns into an explosion of colors ((when the songs picks up in the beginning)), all dancing in front of him, making him feel lost & dizzy. he keeps walking, but every now and them he stumbles on something ((random things like animals or weird props or stuff that aren't supposed to be alive, but are)). he admires everything with a childlike wonder, touches things and then they turn into something else, or change form/shape/color. in the end, he's distracted looking at something and then falls like the floor reached an end;

• track four: place in me – he fell right there where he is in the mv/visualizer, it goes on like that;

• track five: baby blue – make it look like he fell asleep after the end of place in me, so he's very confused when he wakes up & it looks like the place is falling apart, like end of the world type ((like the lamentis thingy on loki)). things are exploding & he can see another planet very close to the one where he is. it's a bit scary but it's a breathtaking view nonetheless. he's mesmerized, but also kinda already accepted his fate? he's not trying to run to find a shelter/salvation or anything, just watching it all fall apart. at the end, he stops, turns around & looks at the path that he was walking ((full of nature things colored in every shade of blue and also glittery dust)) and he's just admiring it when he's hit by a big rock maybe? or a moon, who knows;

• track six: repeat – he's throw away to somewhere that's not collapsing, it looks like a pathway in the woods? but like, no florest too near, and it's sunny but not too warm, and the path is filled with green grass and flowers. he lands in a place that looks like a field but not quite. and then after walking for a while, he finds himself, but another version of him. maybe a younger one or an older one or both? like, they both just stop and stare at each other and kinda do this lil dance of trying to touch the other & watching the other, both a lil frightened but completely intrigued. maybe the older version of him? ooooh maybe it starts with an older version, but then every time present luke gets distracted by something else or turns around for a second, the other luke is getting younger, until he's just a lil kid. the ending is the mini luke offering his hand for present luke to grab, so he can lead him to a house that was near where they were. ((or maybe mini luke makes him run after him));

• track seven: mum – luke enters the house & immediately recognizes it as the house he grew up in. every step he takes, a wall or an object or a room brings a memory & it plays it out like a hologram. lots of memories. then in the guitar solo part, he finds a guitar in the room where he used to play the most when he was a kid ((maybe some cool&cute effects going around him, representing the sound coming from the guitar)). before the solo ends, you can see a shadow in the threshold of the door, and when he finished the guitar solo, luke turns around and smiles, getting up to hug the person ((it's his mum)) but maybe you never actually see her face?;

• track eight: slip away – he steps out of his childhood house and enters this big dark room. there's only a lil blue light coming from the very center of the room. when he gets closer to it, he sees it's a lil star, who looks very scared. as soon as she notices him ((he tries to reach her)) she runs out of the door on the other side of the room. he's worried&intrigued so he follows her, but when he opens the door, he immediately falls, this time he's in what looks like the clouds ((blue hues ofc but clearer ones, not as dark shades like the ones in place in me & baby blue)), and soon he finds out he can "swim" through them. he does that for a while until he sees the lil star and tries to follow her again. this goes on until he finally gets close to her, but when he touches her, she literally slips from his grasp bc he's being teleported again ((but make it look like she's the portal));

• track nine: diamonds – it starts with a close up on the water maybe? and then the camera keeps getting higher & suddenly he falls into it and soon the camera follows. he's distorted for a bit, especially when he notices he's already too deep into the water, away from the surface. then he tries to swim to the surface, but there's a bunch of things?? or like weird and mean seapeople maybe? trying to drag him down ((kinda like that scene on harry potter & the goblet of fire)). he tries his best to fight them, but what gets him away from them is a group of nice seapeople who came to his rescue. then they all swim away from the place they were ((also maybe slip in some diamonds or things that look like them around there?));

• track ten: a beautiful dream – he reaches a lil city? under water with the help of the nice seapeople & then there's this piano on the ground ((maybe covered in seaweed and stuff like that)) and he's immediately drawn to it. he plays/sings the song ((maybe like the guitar effects in mum, the sounds coming from the piano affect the place around him even tho it looks like he barely notices it)). when the song is finishing, he notices a white light coming from the surface. he looks at it & then follows it;

• track eleven: bloodline – then he's getting out of the water? at some beach perhaps? he's slowly getting out of the water & there's this beautiful sunrise behind him. he's singing along, looking like he just came out of a battle but at the same time he's in peace with himself, looking not exactly happy but relieved. he's walking on the beach, making his way home but he's not in a hurry. then in that lil bit in the end of the song, he gets out of the frame after looking straight to the camera maybe?? and the camera focuses on the sunrise and then everything goes black;

• track twelve: comedown – he wakes up in a bed ((like, this is him waking up from all these dreams)) & he's slightly confused bc the dreams felt so real, but he's feeling better & not so lost anymore. he goes out in a walk that maybe shows every place he was in his dreams? but like, this time you see what they really are bc every place in his dreams was inspired by a real location/thing, just reimagined. but like, he doesn't enter anywhere, he's just walking & you can see the places on both sides of the street. like, it's clearly a set up location but it's just representative. maybe you can see some of his friends/family at some of these locations or maybe they're all together in one place? but they don't look at him, they're just talking&laughing with each other. he looks happy, at ease & he's smiling, wearing a yellow or gold shirt. in the end, he reaches a cliffside maybe? somewhere that leads you to think that he'll go through another portal, but then he suddenly stops, looks down at the cliffside and crouches down bc he saw the lil blue star from slip away but it's now a necklace. he picks it up, with a small&easy smile and then looks at the camera, gives a bigger, real smile, gets up and turns around, going back to where his friends&family are, but the camera stays there, just watching him go.

// now some notes bc i love to over explain myself //

• the "water" one was supposed to be slip away, but alison @bandsanitizer was talking about a beautiful dream these days & said that something about the song reminds her of a sonar-like sound & the idea of searching for something, so that got me thinking about the ocean & relating it to this song and it also makes a lot of sense with what the album represents in my mind, so it made me change that. thank you for that miss alison, it's always a pleasure to read your thoughts 😌💜

• & it also fitted well with the “i can't fight the bloodline living in the seams back home” line from bloodline, so i wanted that one to be related to the water as well bc that's all i can think about when i hear that lyric;

• something in common that appears in every single one: an object or something related to time, since it's the big common theme on the whole album;

• in each song he's wearing the same outfit he wore in the starting line mv (white tee + black pants + converse) but in each one of them, that red shirt is in a different color;

• i had the visuals from starting line to mum very clear in my head on my first listen of the album, but i only truly finished writing all of this yesterday bc i wanna listen to halsey's new album and see if my brain does this thing again, but i wanted to finish wfttwtaf first <3

& that's it bc i already talked too much for a day lmao if you read all of this, you're a true hero & i love you <3 have a nice day 💛

[fiveviktorklaus]

interview tag game

rules: answer questions and tag x people you are contractually obligated to would like to get to know better! tagged by @andyoudoctor (hi, myra!!!!! thanks for the tag!)

name: artemis

gender: female

star sign: libra

height: 6′0

time: 10:30pm EST

birthday: september 27th 

favorite bands: twenty one pilots, bastille, silverstein, foreigner

favorite solo artists: lindsey stirling

song stuck in my head: I read a text post about gimme gimme gimme by abba being used in tua a few days back and it’s been in my head ever since. I can’t. get. it. out. send help.

last movie: soul

last show: bridgerton 

when did i create this blog: august 15 2020 

what do i post: multifandom with heavy emphasis on the umbrella academy.

last thing i googled: how to look up the age of ones tumblr. the search before that was photoshop related.

other blogs: just this one!

do i get asks: sometimes!

why i chose this url: joined tumblr to nerd out about the umbrella academy with others around when season two dropped. I wanted a url related to my faves and so! fivevanyaklaus!

following: 78 

followers: my dog follows me around all the time! unbelievable!!!!

average hours of sleep: I am an insomniac to the core, so hard to say. on a good night when I can actually sleep through without waking it’d be maybe five or six hours. otherwise it’s just a scattered mess!

instruments: played in the orchestra for four years in high school. violin, baby! been thinking about picking it up again, but that means venturing to the parentals house to see if my old violin is still there first. regardless, it would have to be a total re-learning overhaul because I don’t even know how much I remember.

what i’m wearing: some sweatpants, a hoodie, and sarcastic t-shirt #1,943

dream job: archaeologist

dream trip: been in talks of going to greece with some friends after all of this covid stuff is over. so, that! I’d be pretty much up to visit anyplace, honestly. seeing the world is definitely on the to do list.

favorite food: sushi! 

nationality: american (of the greek flavor)

favorite song: how am I supposed to choose THAT????? uhhh. I’ll go with jukebox hero by foreigner for now. I remember hearing that one for the first time as a kid and loved the story it told. kid was so in awe of music that echoed out from a concert he couldn’t get into that he went off and started making music of his own? hell yeah. respect. 

last book i read: I started reading a darker shade of magic because someone loaned it to me. I....have not gotten very far. this was a few months ago.

top three fictional universes i’d like to live in: this is actually surprisingly difficult to answer because it seems like all the things that I am a fan of (whether it’s a book/movie/video game/comic/show - whatever!!!) are always so dark and, like. you know what? I’m good. if I had to pick? I guess I’d go with harry potter. post all the battle of hogwarts stuff. in spite of all the bullshit with rowling, the universe is still really neat and I’d fucking love to learn magic and get lost in the halls of hogwarts, etc. if I could take a quick trip to a universe, I’d swing by the umbrella academy just to dropkick reginald in the monocle before stopping to high five the hargreeves on my way back out.

tagging: @ogaferoga, @jameszmaguire, @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky, @vanya-harrgreeves, @hargreeving, @fudgemutt, @johnnycakecade, and @feralnumberfive!

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 3: Chapter 9

BBC Radio 1 Breakfast Show with Nick Grimshaw : October 2017   

Word count: 3.8k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

Please for the love of god, if you like the story just hit the reblog button. I’m starting to run out of motivation to post since no one ever shares these chapters.

>Instagram posts

After the Phoenix show, the band took a weeklong break before meeting back up in Paris to kick off the European leg of the tour. During their break, Adam returned home to his young family and Sarah and Mitch took a short vacation together, while Aurora and Harry joined Niall in celebrating the release of his debut album, Flicker. They, along with Liam, Louis and some of Niall’s friends and family all arrived at his London house for dinner and drinks to celebrate the launch after Niall had spent the day doing press. It was a really casual evening, with everyone scattered throughout the living room, kitchen, and heated patio. Later in the evening Aurora found herself sandwiched on the sofa between Liam and Louis while Harry was off being the social butterfly he was, flitting from one conversation to the next. Rori loved that about the two of them, as much as they loved each other they never felt the need to be glued to each other’s sides when out with friends. She had just finished filling the boys in on the excitement of the first leg of the tour when Liam posed a question.

“I noticed you guys have a 2 week break between Milan and Singapore,” he said. “Got anything planned?”

“We’re planning to be home for 8 or 9 days and then fly to Singapore a few days early to hopefully explore a little,” Rori explained. “Why?”

“Well I was wondering if you wanted to get in the studio with me,” Liam replied. “Lou and I wrote a song a few months back and the demo I put together got selected for the next Fifty Shades soundtrack, but they want it to be a duet. We thought you’d be the perfect fit.”

“Oooh, that sounds like fun,” Rori smiled. “Do you have the demo on your phone?” Liam nodded and Rori fished her AirPods out of her purse and quickly linked them with Liam’s phone to listen through the track. “I love it!” she declared once it reached the end. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

They were interrupted from continuing by a slightly tipsy Niall calling everyone’s attention to where he was standing on the coffee table.

“EVERYONE!” Niall yelled. “I just wanna thank ya all for being here to celebrate all of this. It’s mental that after so many months my baby is finally out in the world and every single one of you played a part in helping make this happen.”

“TO NIALL!” Rori yelled, raising her glass in the air. Everyone echoed her words, cheersing the jolly Irishman.

xXx

A week and a half after Niall’s album launch, after shows in both Paris and Cologne, the Styles’ were back in London for two back to back shows in Hammersmith. The day after the shows, before they headed up to Manchester Harry was due to appear on Nick Grimshaw’s breakfast show on BBC Radio One as Kiwi was releasing as a single that day. Unfortunately, when Harry came of the stage after the second show his voice was in shambles. The tour doctor headed straight for Harry’s dressing room and after a quick consult he was placed on vocal rest for the next 36 hours in preparation for the next show. Aurora immediately called Grimmy to explain the situation while Jeff attempted not to panic before joining her on the call. After much discussion between the 3 of them and many eye rolls from Harry, it was decided that Aurora would attend the interview the following morning so that Nick wasn’t left hanging without a guest and Harry would stay home to rest before travelling up to Manchester in the afternoon.

xXx

“Good morning you’re listening to BBC Radio One, I’m Nick Grimshaw and this morning I was supposed to be joined by Mr Harry Styles but unfortunately Hazza’s come down with a bit of a cold so he’s sent along his wonderful wife to fill in for him. Aurora thank you for joining me.”

“Thank you for having me Grimmy,” Rori replied. “Wish it was a bit later in the day, but you did buy me a coffee so I’ll let you off without too many complaints.”

“How generous of you love,” Nick smirked.

“Only for you,” she giggled, throwing a wink across the table towards her friend.

“So, I had all these fantastic, insightful question for Harry about the album and the tour and the release of Kiwi as a single today, but alas I’ve had to throw all that out the window. Figured since I’m bluffing the questions, we might have a bit of fun today and given that it’s Hazzas fault you’re up this early, what do you say we have that fun at his expense?”

“Are you gonna get me in trouble when I get home Nick?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it love. Besides we both know he’d never get mad at you, that boy is smitten with you.”

“We’ll see about that. What sort of fun did you have in mind?”

“How about we throw to a song and when we come back, I’ll start with a few softball questions.”

“You’re going to play nicely, aren’t you?” Rori asked as the mics were muted and a song started playing for the listeners.

“Of course,” Nick smiled. “I know where your boundaries are, and I text Harry last night to see what he was comfortable with us discussing in regards to song meanings and he gave us the all clear.”

“Alright then,” Rori sighed. “I guess it’s too late now to back out.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Nick laughed. “We’re gonna have a fun morning. You ready? Song’s almost done.”

Aurora nodded and readjusted her headphones.

“Welcome back, if you’re just tuning in, I’m joined this morning by the one and only Aurora Styles. Now Rori, your husband Harry, he’s a good mate of mine and the fans listening at home will be very aware that our boy H doesn’t like to talk about his private life much but between us gals I’ve got a few questions.”

“Oh god.”

“Now, now. We’ll have none of that. I’m wondering what married life is like?”

“It’s wonderful,” Rori answered. “We’ve been married for a little over 7 months now and it couldn’t be better.”

“And you’ve been together for what, 4 years now?”

“Something like that,” Rori agreed.

“What was it that first made you fall for him?”

“Oh um... I’m not sure what the first thing was, it just kind of happened. The dimples certainly didn’t hurt,” she joked. “But in all seriousness, I think it was just how genuine he was.”

“Boring,” Nick replied, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“No, I’m serious,” Rori laughed. “We met at the AMAs right before my first ever solo performance and I was in the middle of a panic attack and he just sat down next to me in the hallway and talked to me until I calmed down. We’d never met before and he just saw me freaking out and thought ‘I’m gonna help her’. You don’t find a lot of genuinely kind people in this industry and he’s always astounded me with how selfless he is.”

“That’s too cute. It’s disgusting. How do you manage being in a relationship with someone who is idolized by such an intensely loyal fan base?”

“Honestly, I love Harry’s fans. How could I not? They love the same things in him that I do. They recognize his talent and his kindness and they’re so supportive of everything he does. I’m honestly just so proud of him so of course I love his fans because he deserves to be adored.”

“You’re very sappy this morning sweetheart,” Nick replied. “Don’t get me wrong I’m loving it, you’re normally much sassier with me when you’re more awake. So how has it been being on tour with Harry and being a part of the band?”

“Oh my god, it’s so much fun. We have the best time when we’re all playing together, and we all get along so easily that it never feels like work. The tour has been incredible so far, getting to play this fantastic album to so many fans. I’m very lucky. There aren’t a lot of careers where you get to spend every day with your husband doing what you both love.”

“Speaking of the incredible album let’s play the new single Kiwi and when we come back, we might have a bit of a chat about the other tracks.”

After Kiwi finished, Nick grinned cheekily across the desk at Aurora as he welcomed the listeners back. “And we are back everyone, now before the song break, we were discussing Harry Styles, the self-titled debut of Harry Styles and Aurora I’d love to pick your brain about it since you were involved in the entire creation process, weren’t you?”

“From writing to recording,” Rori agreed.

“So which track is your favourite?”

“That’s tough. There are a lot of very personal songs on the album and in one way or another they’re all my favourites for very narcissistic reasons, but I think if I had to pick one, I think I have to pick Sweet Creature. It’s just a beautiful song.”

“You would pick a song written for you as your favourite.”

“I mean in my defence every song on the album is either about me or I wrote it so there was no humble way to answer that question, and also Nick,” she paused, smirking in anticipation for the rest of her sentence, “who said it’s about me?”

“Wait. Are you saying you’re not Harry’s Sweet Creature? Well who is it about? Did he step out on you?” Nick joked.

Aurora chuckled. “No, he didn’t step out on me, and I’m not telling you. She knows who she is and all I’ll say is that not all love is romantic love. Besides everyone who assumed it was about me didn’t even really listen to the song. I mean how could we have started out as ‘two hearts in one home’?”

“Well I’m sure all the fans listening are having a bit of a breakdown right now over that,” Nick laughed. “I want to come back to talking about the album later, but since you’ve never been shy about addressing fan theories, I thought it might be a bit of fun to look at what fans are talking about online. I’ve taken to Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr overnight to find out what's on their minds, what do you say Rori?”

“Let’s do it,” Rori replied.

“Excellent. Let’s play a song first and when we come back, we’ll be addressing fan questions, and speculations. This is Taylor Swift with Look What You Made Me Do.”

While the song played Rori and Nick talked and joked around about what he had found online and he promised, once again, that he wouldn’t put her in any uncomfortable situations.

“Welcome back,” Nick said. “This morning we’re answering the internets burning questions with Aurora Styles. First ones gonna be a soft ball Rors. It’s from twitter user @IwouldSellMyLeftKidneyForAuroraStark, who tweeted: My life is in desperate need for an Aurora Styles solo album/tour. Who do I have to kill to make this happen? So, when are we getting your solo work, love?”

“Oh wow, that’s very sweet,” Aurora replied with a blush, “But please don’t sell your kidney for me, you’re gonna need that. As for the solo work, while I appreciate the support, I don’t think I will ever go solo. I enjoy the collaborative process too much and a solo tour just wouldn’t be as much fun as touring with Harry. I will continue posting covers and demos to my YouTube channel and we have been tossing around the idea of a demo tape album so maybe you will get an album from me at some point.”

“Well I for one would be first in line for a vinyl of your Demo Tapes series,” Nick replied. “I found a tweet with a theory about some of your songs from twitter user @HarrysSuits. How cute is it that Aurora Styles has like 5 Songs that she’s written either about or with Harry that have the same or very similar titles to 1D songs? I mean there’s The Little Things, Just You and I, Still I Fly, Where I Belong, and All Night.”

“I mean when you lay it out like that there’s definitely a trend,” Rori admitted with a chuckle.

“You didn’t do it intentionally?” Nick asked.

“Not at all. Yikes. Makes me sound like a bit of a fan girl doesn’t it? Naming all my songs after theirs?”

“A little bit,” Nick chuckled, holding up his hand with his thumb and forefinger pinched together.

“How embarrassing,” Rori said sarcastically.

“Very embarrassing,” Nick replied with a matching tone. “I hope they don’t notice because how awkward would it be if they know you’re a fan?”

“I’d die.”

“Thank god this is a private chat that no one else is listening too,” Nick laughed. “Ok so earlier in the show you hinted at the story behind Sweet Creature and I was hoping, since Hazza isn’t here to stop us, we can dive into the rest of the album. The fans and I couldn’t help but notice that there seems to be a bit of a common theme throughout the album with it being tied into the Columbia shooting and I've got a fan observation here from the account @18monthsTheySaid, it’s quite an in-depth thread but I’d love to get your take on it so here we go:

Whatever you do, don’t think about the fact that at least 4 tracks off HS1 are about Aurora and the Columbia shooting. These are obviously just my interpretations of the songs and I might be wrong but I’m gonna say it anyway.

Meet me in the Hallway: I think this is about the immediate aftermath. He’s roaming the hospital hallways, needing pain relief and he’s ‘gotta get better’ because he feels the need to pull himself together and be there for Aurora. He’s begging her ‘Just let me know…’ because he’d do anything to fix it or make it easier for her.

Sign of the Times is probably one of the most overt ones on the album, I mean ‘why are we always stuck’n running from the bullets’? and I’m pretty sure ‘we don’t talk enough… will we ever learn?’ is about how we can never seem to have an actual conversation about gun reform in this country and until we do we’ll never change.

Two Ghosts: ‘we’re not who we used to be’ is obviously about the fact that they both changed so much in the wake of the shooting and I think the idea of them being ghosts is Harry examining the alternative reality where she didn’t survive and maybe he wouldn’t have survived it either.

Ever Since New York: I mean the title says it all really. ‘Tell me something I don’t already know’ is maybe asking the doctors for better news because she went through so many surgeries and the results were always the same. And ‘Brooklyn saw me empty at the news’ I think is reference to Rori’s dad, Steve Rogers who’s from Brooklyn and some of the Avengers call him that occasionally in interviews.”

Aurora remained silent for a moment once Nick finished reading out the twitter thread. She was so often blown away by how observant the fans were and how much they picked up on. “When we sat down to write the album in 2016 we were so heavily stuck in the aftermath of Columbia that I don’t think it’s a surprise to anyone that a lot of the album is in reference to what happened to me and the fallout from that,” she explained. “This album was about us piecing ourselves back together in many ways and I think if you listen to the whole thing you can hear that entire process of us healing together. The incredible thing about Harry as a songwriter and as a performer is that he’s always been so good at making you feel exactly what he’s feeling when he sings, and clearly people are picking up on that tone and over-arching theme.”

“Was it difficult to write about what happened?” Nick asked.

“Some days,” Rori admitted. “There were a lot of tears but the thing I love the most about music, and the entire song writing process, is that it’s the best form of therapy. When I’m writing I can admit to feelings I wouldn’t otherwise be able to talk about. You can be really vulnerable in way that feels safe and comforting and then when you’re able to share that with the world and you let them in, it’s an incredible experience.”

“And I think I speak for everyone when I say how much we appreciate you and Harry letting us in. Now before either of us get too mushy, let��s throw it over to your favourite track off the album. This is Sweet Creature.”

While the song played, Nick looked across the desk to where Aurora was taking a deep breathe to steady her nerves after talking about something so personal. She loved talking about song writing and the meanings behind her lyrics, but she always got a little nervous when it was Harry’s songs she was talking about, knowing that he felt the opposite about sharing the stories behind the songs. He had told her countless times that while he wasn’t comfortable having those conversations he would never stop her from talking about it, but his silence on the topic always made his fans desperate for information which put a lot of pressure on her when she spoke about his work.  

“Alright,” Nick said, “you ready for the last one?”

“Is it what I think it is?

“It is. Not too late to back out if you don’t want me to ask. We can just talk about the BBC recording or about the tour some more.”

“No, it’s ok,” she replied. “It’s about time I say something. Just nervous about the response.”

Nick nodded in understanding and turned back to the microphone as the song reached its end. Aurora felt her heartrate rising and her hand started to shake as anxiety clawed at her throat.

“Now we’ve been addressing fan theories and answering the internet’s burning questions here this morning and we can’t really have a segment like this without touching on the biggest theory surrounding Harry that dates back to the very early days of his career and I know neither of you have ever addressed this publicly but when we were chatting last night about you filling in for him I asked if it was ok to bring this up and you both agreed I could ask…”

Aurora shifted in her seat hesitantly, her palm growing sweaty as she anticipated the next question. She’d avoided commenting on it publicly ever since she and Harry announced their relationship, which was not to say she didn’t have strong opinions about the topic. She just knew that it would cause a stir amongst the fans.

“For years now, fans have speculated that Harry and his bandmate, Louis Tomlinson, are in a secret relationship and that they’re management forced them to hide it so as not to alienate their fan base. In the past both yourself and Louis’ girlfriends have been accused of acting as beards for the lads, but you’ve never addressed the overwhelming online presence of what the fans call Larry Stylinson.”

“I really don’t like talking about it, Grimmers,” Aurora began. “But I guess by staying silent a lot of fans have taken that as an answer, so what I will say is that I’m not angry at those fans. I am sad though. I’m sad that they think it’s ok to harass myself or Eleanor or Danielle or anyone else in Harry and Louis’ lives. I’m sad that they saw two boys who saw each other as family and loved each other and that those fans couldn’t accept that two men could show affection for each other without it being romantic love. What worries me are all the boys out there who see the way these girls have acted over the years and how much that has reinforced the toxic masculinity in their lives. The fear of being seen as gay stops so many boys and men from telling their friends that they love them. My best friend Ella and I act the exact same way as Lou and H did in the early days of the band but because we’re women no one has ever accused us of being lesbians. The harassment has affected all of us and I know that the fans are acting out of a place of love. They love the boys and they want them to be happy, but it’s honestly just gone too far, and it needs to stop. The Directioners are such wonderful people who are so inclusive and loving and I think they need to remember that and remember that we see the things that they say online. I guess if there was one thing I would say to those fans if they’re listening it would be that I know you love Harry and Lou, but by attacking myself and the other women in their lives you are hurting them and I’m certain that that is not what you want, so instead I ask you to channel that love into supporting them and lifting them up.”

“Thank you love. I know you don’t like talking about, but I must say I completely agree with you. Now we’re going to go to one more song and then when we come back, we’ll wrap this up and let you get on with your day. How about you introduce this next track, Rori?”

“Thanks, Grimmy,” Rori said. “From his incredible new album which dropped less than 2 weeks ago, here’s Niall Horan and myself with Seeing Blind.”

“You handled that well,” Nick told her once the mics were muted. “Kept your cool and explained yourself clearly.”

“Thanks,” Rori replied with a small smile. “Think I might stay offline for the next few days to avoid the worst of it.”

“Probably a good idea love,” Nick agreed. “Ready to finish this off?”

“Let’s do it.”

When the song ended the pair chatted for a few minutes about the rest of the tour before they reached the end of their timeslot. “Well thank you for joining me this morning for a bit of a cheeky gossip session Rors,” Nick finally said. “For those of you listening at home that are missing Harry this morning, tune in to BBC on Thursday night for Harry Styles at the BBC, an hour long show with live performances and interviews with yours truly.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[louistomlinsoncouk]

After tragedy, One Direction’s Louis Tomlinson is finally in a ‘good place in life’ — and ready to rock

While most boy bands only spawn one major solo superstar — think Justin Timberlake from *NSYNC, or Ricky Martin from Menudo — the men of One Direction have bucked those odds. Zayn Malik, Harry Styles, Niall Horan, and Liam Payne have all found success, in genres ranging from R&B and EDM to folk-pop and retro rock, since 1D went on indefinite hiatus in 2016. But one member, Louis Tomlinson, has kept a relatively lower profile. “I've tried to!” he laughs softly, speaking to Yahoo Entertainment about his much-anticipated new solo music.

“I had a couple of things in my personal life which made momentum a little bit more difficult, naturally,” says Tomlinson, now age 27. He is referring to the loss of his mother, Johannah Deakin (who died from leukemia at age 43, the same year of 1D’s split), followed by the fatal overdose of his 18-year-old sister, Félicité, earlier this year. Only one week before Félicité’s death, Tomlinson had released the single “Two of Us,” a heartbreaking ballad dedicated to his mother. He once described this “darkest s***” period in his life as his “rock bottom” during an interview with The Guardian. But as he readies his debut solo album, out in January 31 next year with a world tour to follow, Tomlinson says he’s no longer writing from a place of mourning. While the album, WALLS, will contain “light and shade,” fans can mostly expect anthemic rockers with “plenty of guitars,” like the ‘90s-style Britpop banger “Kill My Mind” and the just-released buoyant terrace-chant “We Made It.”

“I touched on [grief] with ‘Two of Us,’ but I definitely kind of told that story with that,” Tomlinson explains. “I felt like I needed to get that off my chest creatively in my songwriting because around that time, it was hard for anything to feel more important, obviously, than that. ‘Two of Us’ is an important song for me, but I understand how heavy it is — emotionally, for me to sing, and for some people to listen to. … I don't think for a while I'll be going near anything else too heavy emotionally; I'm not really that way inclined. I want to make songs that make people feel good, you know what I mean? I'm conscious of trying to make happier songs, definitely. What I've learned about the writing process is you can't write a happy song if you don't feel happy. And I feel like I'm in a good place in my life, and naturally with that comes happier songs. So I think it all depends on what headspace you're in, really, at the time.”

Tomlinson is clearly in a rock ‘n’ roll headspace at the moment. To tease the release of “Kill My Mind” last month, the proud Northerner made a Spotify playlist of his influences that included Oasis (“probably forever my favorite band”), the La’s, James, the Verve, Arctic Monkeys, the Smiths, “Tomorrow Never Knows” by the Beatles, and newer artists like Sam Fender, the Courteneers, and Catfish & the Bottlemen — and “Kill My Mind” and “We Made It” wouldn’t sound at all out of place on a playlist alongside those Britrock luminaries.

Tomlinson is well aware that going in a rock direction is a risk, though he believes “music definitely works in cycles” and rock ‘n’ roll will “definitely be back.” In terms of speculating why the type of music he heard on mainstream radio as a kid — like Oasis and Amy Winehouse — has fallen out of favor commercially, he speculates, “Well, we're in a in a very, very PC era, and some of those bands were a little bit reckless, a little bit crazy.” Regardless, it’s possible that Tomlinson could educate the “super-f***ing-dedicated” One Direction fans about ‘90s/early-2000s indie the same way Styles’s debut album was a gateway to ‘70s glam and classic rock, or Horan’s was an introduction to more mature singer-songwriter sounds.

“That's why it's important for me to make those playlists, because I do often get messages from my fans saying they hadn't heard of this band or this artist before,” he says. “And I think that's really important. That's really cool. That helps them get to know me even better. … Harry, I think in terms of the music he's making, I think that's incredible and I'm sure the fans have then gone to look at other bands that have influenced him on his album. And I actually saw it firsthand when I went to watch Niall live — it must have been like maybe over a year ago now. There were some really great musical moments in that show, and I was thinking about the contrast of that show with a One Direction show. I was watching the girls at the front just absorbing this musical moment, and I thought that was really cool, really interesting. I think that is important, for all of us.”

Tomlinson knows “there is definitely a bit of music snobbery” when it comes to a former boy band star doing rock ‘n’ roll — he once joked to the BBC that Alex Turner of Arctic Monkeys would be mortified would be mortified to be cited as one of Tomlinson’s core influences — but he says, “I think you've just got to kind of earn your stripes as an artist, and be honest and be real — and whoever likes you, great. Whoever doesn't, well, it is what it is, I suppose.”

Tomlinson has been pleased by the initial response to his new sound. “I was feeling really, really f***ing proud about ‘Kill My Mind’ and the reaction on that. It makes me feel really good to do something that is true to my influences and get a good reaction. Some people were a little bit shocked, but that's exciting, you know what I mean? That's the way it should be with music.” Still, he doesn’t seem too concerned if his music doesn’t reach the commercial level of One Direction in their post-X Factor heyday.

“In terms of kind of chasing radio, I feel like I've done a lot of that. To be honest, out of all the songs I've got on the [forthcoming solo] album, ‘We Made It’ probably is the best equipped melodically for radio, so we'll see how that goes. But I'm not as precious as I used to be about all that,” he says. “To be fair, I fell out of love with music a little bit, and I actually kind of come back ‘round to finding bands that I used to love, and finding new bands. And I had a bit of an epiphany with music and with my music. I thought, instead of making music for other people, I should start making music for myself and what I really love. So it feels really refreshing to be able to do that.”

Tomlinson’s album will feature production from both longtime 1D collaborator Julian Bunetta and Ben’s Brother frontman Jamie Hartman, who has worked with Lewis Capaldi, Rag ‘n’ Bone Man, Rachel Yamagata, James Bay, Andy Grammer, Joss Stone, and Parachute). “Jamie is just an amazing producer, and I think he really understood me musically,” Tomlinson gushes. As for what to expect from the record, he says, “I'm always trying to be as honest and as relatable as possible, and sonically, I always want it to feel as live and as authentic as possible. It's been a long time in the making now, but I'm really happy with it as a body of work.

“I'd been used to releasing an album a year with [One Direction], and I didn't realize until I got into it just how much of a perfectionist I was going to be about my first album, and what it says about me and what it represents. I've been maybe at times too much of a perfectionist, and it's taken a little bit longer than it should have. But I'm kind of all right with that, because I'm really, really proud of where it is now. I never want the feeling of releasing an album and feeling like there's two or three fillers on there. I'm really happy with every track on the album now. So I think it was hopefully worth the wait.”

[hilllsnholland]

Bucket List - 1

Pairing: College!Tom x Deaf Reader 

W.c: 3k 

Warnings: drinking, slurs, asshole frat boys 

Tom has no idea what he wants to do with his life. He’s stuck in the suburban town of Creekview with Harrison and two idiots friends. No passion, no drive, nothing but a beer by the poolside. Until he meets Y/N, the Deaf rebel who has a bucket list she needs to complete by the end of the summer. The two come together to make their last summer of freedom the best Creekview has ever seen. What could possibly go wrong? Or more so, what could possibly go right? 

Disclaimer: I am HoH/Deaf so this is completely written from my perspective and experiences within the Deaf community. If you have any comment or questions then you are more than welcome to message me :) 

____

College parties were suppose to be fun. There’s music, drinking, girls half naked, and endless possibilities of how the night would end. Maybe in bed with the hottie from Psychology, maybe in the back of a police car. Tom though? He saw this night going as well as the Bubonic Plague. Tom sat at the corner of the party, his eyes drawn down to the fifth beer since he arrived hours ago. His head thumped with the music, the terrible music he’d hear sitting in the back of Brant’s and Ty’s car. It was plain and he was sick of the life he had been living, which is why he was hiding from everybody.

But he assumed it was his own fault. Tom did decide to move to California with Harrison, away from his family, and to live in this shithole of Creekview. It was a small college town, mainly suburban and privileged kids from around the Bay that have pockets full of Daddy’s money. Although Tom knew that feeling, it was not his scene. He hated the fakery and plastic people he saw every day. The guys in town were douchey, unaware to anything but molly and Bay Area rap. The girls were shallow, counting down days to Coachella and photoshopping their Instagram pictures for people they haven’t seen since high school. It was a far cry from London. It was odd and he didn’t like it. But he dug his grave and he was going to sit in it.

Harrison met eyes with Tom from across the party, he had a drink in his hand and several glow stick bracelets that lined up his forearm. Tom was pretty sure that Haz gave Lauren J, the host of the party, the idea for the neon theme. Tom wore a white shirt that had neon paint splatter on it, the black lights around the party illuminated the colors which made hiding almost impossible. Harrison motioned a thumbs and Tom nodded, ducking behind the back bar again. It wasn’t Harrison so much he was hiding from, but their two knucklehead friends, Brant and Ty.

Brant was going to school on a football scholarship and he fit the mold pretty well. Big and stupid. He was one dimensional and was too focused on hooking up with everyone in Lauren J’s sorority to even notice that Tom had left the group. Ty, however, was tolerable in some doses. He was a pothead who kept his vape on his lips on all time. He was another idiot, but at least Tom could take his presence longer than fifteen minutes.

“Enjoying yourself, my beautiful Brit.” Lauren J mused from behind him.

Tom jumped slightly, knocking the beer to the floor while LJ laughed. She was a pretty girl, head of the Kappa Kappa Sigma sorority, with long brown hair and makeup that was too perfect to falter. She was wearing a neon pink bralette with a pair of black shorts, her hair had neon ribbon entwined with it. LJ turned to Tom with her glowing teeth and began talking like they’ve been friends for years. Tom had met Lauren J in English the semester before and she had made it her mission to become his friend. At first, Tom thought she was trying to hook up, but it became clear that LJ was just the kind of girl who wanted more friends to count.

“Sure. just keep Brant away and I’ll be fine.” Tom groaned as he picked up the empty bottle from the floor.

“Won’t be a problem. He’s trying to hook up with Lauren H right now. He also convinced Ty to say the ‘N Word’ so now Ty is beaten up behind the dumpsters.” LJ shook her head and finished off her red solo cup.

“Perfect, just what I wanted to be associated with,”

Tom pulled the collar of his shirt into his mouth and gnawed on the cotton fabric. He was drunk and angry, those two don’t mix well. The last thing he needed was a bunch of frat boys coming after him because of something his ‘friends’ did. Brant and Ty would never figure it out. Life is not a playground. Tom knew that which is why he didn’t fuck around like they did. LJ placed a small hand on his back and made a pop with her lips.

“Did you decide on your major?” She asked which made Tom shutter.

“No, I have until August 2nd.”

“It’s June. You need to figure it out before classes fill up.”

Tom brushed her off like he did with his parents, brother’s, and Harrison. He had been undecided since he started two years ago and time had come to finally make a decision. Creekview State didn’t allow students to continue past two years unless they had their major set up. His parents had been badgering him for a year to make a choice, Harrison had told him to pick the easiest one, while his brother’s told him to drop out. Easy for them though, Harry had a paid internship with a nature magazine for photography while Sam was going to trade school for carpeting. They had their lives figured out. Tom though, he was lost.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll probably do Psychology, maybe accounting. If all else fails I’ll become a male stripper.”

“I’d pay for that,”

Tom and LJ look at each other and laugh. She brightened a room with her cheeky humor, it reminded Tom of home. LJ winks at Tom before escaping back into the dancefloor of hundreds of drunk college students covered in neon paint. Tom narrowed through the crowd to see any signs of Brant. He spotted Lauren H, only decorated in a neon green bikini, sitting on Brant’s lap, making out like their life depended on it. Tom rolled his eyes and decided another beer would make the sight leave his brain. He had a whole summer ahead of him, better start drinking now.

Tom weaved through the crowd to the functional bar that Harrison was standing at. The two stood next to each other, stealing knowing glances about how the party was going. Tom looked to his best friend, seeing the bright pink lipstick print that covered his neck. Strangely sharing the same shade LJ was wearing. Tom didn’t comment on it though, he knew Harrison and Lauren had a thing. What thing though? He’d never know. It wasn’t his business even if he thought the two were a match made in heaven.

“Did you see Ty get his ass handed to him?” Harrison said lowly against the brim of his beer.

“No, LJ told me about it though. Who beat him up?”

“Kevin McNamara-”

“President of the Black Student Union? I love karma.” Tom smiled for once, enjoying the rightful punishment to an idiot like Ty.

That was the epitome of Brant and Ty. Brant knew he could convince Ty to do whatever he wanted. He probably sent Ty straight to Kevin just to see a good ass-kicking. Tom shrugged away guilt though, he was not a part of it and he wouldn’t mention it to them either. If Brant scored anything with Lauren H, he’d probably forget about the whole incident anyways. Tom looked out into the crowd of dancing drunks and leaned against the bar.

“I’m a better dancer right?” Tom asks which gains a chuckle from Haz.

“Definitely hotshot. Why aren’t you out there?” Harrison places his cup on the counter and turns his full attention to his friend. “When have you been the hiding type?”

“You’re right, I’m not. I’m just not in the mood to dance.”

Harrison exhales through his nostrils and shrugs. He knows Tom would never give up the opportunity to show off his moves. Why else would he have taken dance classes for half his life? Why else would he practice in his room late at night? Tom never missed an opportunity and Harrison could read him. Tom was stressed and the only way to get him out of his slump would be to challenge him.

“Not in the mood? Not even for $100?”

Tom slams the bottle on the bar and gives his best mate a sly smirk.

“What’s the wager div?”

Harrison knows him too well. Put money on the table and Tom will take it in an instant. It’s for pride and to have extra money to spend on ramen and boba. The blond boy looks into the crowd and shrugs at the first idea that pops into his head.

“Get a random girl to dance with you. No cheating either, we know all the same ones so you can’t fuck around.”

Tom snorts at the lazy attempt at a challenge. Although he knows this is Haz’s attempt to get him to lighten up, he’ll go along with it. He needs the extra cash. Tom runs his hands through his hair to get the sexy unkempt look going and prowls around the dancefloor. He looks around for an easy target, a girl he’s seen around but never talked too. Still sober-ish and with a few friends so he doesn’t come off predatory. Tom searches until he finds one girl in a group, he makes his way through the crowd until something bumps into him. He stumbles, grabbing the shoulders of the person he hit and stops them from falling.

“Oops!” The girl exclaims loudly so Tom can hear over the music.

Tom goes to say ‘no problem’ but he looks at the girl and his brain shuts off. The girl has bright pink hair and an alluring stare. She looks at Tom, smiles and rushes back to her friend that she was dancing with. Tom has completely forgotten about the wager, his mission is to dance with whoever that was. Tom blinks to get back to reality before spinning around to find the girl. She’s not too hard to find, she had neon paint all over her and the pink really draws him to her. The girl is focused on dancing, her movements erratic as she moves to the EDM song. Her friend is doing the same, moving her hands wildly to the pink girl.

Tom approaches them and opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. His throat is dry and his brain seised to work because all he can think of is her. The girl looks at him, smirks, then holds out a hand for him to grab. Tom can’t believe it, she’s asking him to dance with her? Tom grabs her hand and follows her lead through the rhythm. They’re standing extremely close to the speaker so the music is thumping through his body with ever bass hit. Tom reaches the last brain cell he has to pull out the moves he’s practiced millions of times before. The girls seem impressed by his moves, laughing while they look to each other while dancing. The pink girl grabs Tom’s shoulders, moving against his body, dipping down and up to meet his stare. Tom in entranced by her and the glossy look of her lips.

“I’m Tom, by the way.” He says to her but she looks at him in confusion.

He repeats himself louder but the girl shakes her head at him. Tom has already won the money from Harrison and now his objective is the girl. He wants to know her name, he wants to talk to her. Hear her voice. The way she dances is magical, she must have more to enchant him with. Tom moves his hands to her waist and motions over to the quiet corner he was in before. The girl looks to her friend who’s motioning wildly at her. The pink girl looks back at Tom and nods in approval. He takes her over to the quiet corner with a new sense of jitters in his body. He didn’t feel this way on the dancefloor, no. This was something he now has because they’re alone. Music farther away so now he can talk but there’s a ball in his throat. The girl looks to him, licking her lips seductively. Tom can’t keep his eyes off of her.

“I’m-I’m Tom.” He runs his hands through his hair nervously.

“Y/N.” She replies. “I’m Y/N.”

Tom laughs for some reason that he’s not even sure of. Y/N, he could say that name a thousand times and he wouldn’t get tired of it. He’s never felt such a burning need before in his life. He doesn’t know if its the messily dyed pink hair, or the way she looks at him with those beautiful eyes. Y/N smiles, crinkling the neon blue paint she has on her face as it flakes off.

“This may sound crazy but like you’re...amazing? Yeah that’s crazy we just met, only danced, and this is the only conversation we’ve ever had. I’m sorry, I’m going off but-”

Y/N grabs the sides of his face to make him look at her. While Tom was rambling he was moving every which way to not make eye contact but now he had to. He had to look into those dreamy eyes and watch her part her enticing lips. Y/N kept her hands on each side of his face while staring at him. Tom thought he saw her begging for something, needing something. He moves his lips to say more but all he wants is to feel her lips on his. So he did just that.

Tom closed that gap without thinking of any consequences. All he needed to know was how she tasted like, which was vanilla, and the feeling of her lips, which was silk. Y/N froze at first but then melted into his touch. Her arms were thrown around his neck lazily while she leaned in to deepen the kiss. Tom felt on top of the world. He felt undeniably powerful. The world had evaporated away and the only thing on his mind was how easily she fit in his arms like a puzzle piece. Tom pulls away slowly, enjoying the last bit of heaven he could get out of her lips. The two look at each other, awestricken by their decisions.

“That was-”

“I’m Deaf.”

“What?”

“I’m Deaf. D-E-A-F.”

Tom blinked at her, totally lost in what the hell just happened. Y/N looks at him with red peering through the neon paint that splattered on her face. Tom furrows his brows and then becomes petrified. He took a leap of faith and realized that he fell right into a ditch. The alcohol was hitting him hard because now he was dizzy. He felt like throwing up and wanted to run into the nearest bush and barf.

“You didn’t want me to kiss you...you were just trying to read my lips.”

“No! Yes! Well….” Y/N stutters while moving her hands. “T-O-M.” She spells while saying his name.

“Yes,” He looks at her while his cheeks burn red.

“I...uh well I-”

Suddenly a hand grabs Y/N’s shoulder, whipping her around to look at who was grabbing her attention. It was her friend from before, an Indian girl with neon paint scattered around her body. Tom teeters on his heels while the two sign to each other angrily. Y/N slams her hands at her side and turns back to Tom with annoyance radiating off of her.

“Tom, I’ll see you again. Promise.”

Y/N holds his hand out flat while she kisses her thumb and places it into his palm. Tom can’t tell if he’s too drunk to understand or if this is a sign he obviously doesn’t know but it makes him feel warm inside. Before Tom can come up with a coherent reply she’s gone. Her pink hair disappears into the crowd while her friend drags her away. Tom staggers over to an open couch, throwing himself onto it and groaning as loud as possible. What he did was stupid, right? Kissing her was dumb? But it felt so good. It felt like a fucking Disney movie and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Well you really put on a show,” Harrison’s voice snaps him from his thoughts while a hundred dollar bill lands on Tom’s lap

“Shut. Up.”

Tom rolls his head onto the back of the couch while he rubs his temple to ease the forming migraine. Was it his six beers or the fact he let Y/N walk out without knowing her phone number? Did she even have a phone? Do Deaf people have phones? Tom had a million questions running through his mind and none of them had answers. The only person who could help him was Y/N, and she was gone.

“You look like trash. What did she say to you?”

“She told me she was Deaf,” Harrison’s face contorts into confusion. “I kissed her Harrison.”

“Yeah, I saw that.”

“No, I kissed her and I want her to come back. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

For a brief second the noise of the party is just humming in the back of Tom’s head. His lips are pursed together and his mind can only think of her. Thinking of the neon paint that decorated her skin, the way her eyes watched him speak, and especially how her lips felt like that. He didn’t know what that was, but it was comparable to every Christmas morning. It made Tom come alive for the first time since he arrived in Creekview.

“Maybe, just maybe, this is the only thing right with you,” Harrison states as his beer cup hits the couch.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Harrison replies with a dry laugh. “Sit on it tonight.”

Tom tilts his head so he can watch his best friend disappear into the crowd. Harrison’s blonde hair and neon body melts into the crowd of shifting bodies and the void is now clear. Tom tries to sit up but the alcohol is filling the back of his throat. He knows if he gets up his guts will be spilled onto the grass. Through that drunken haze though he is able to hang on to the thought of Y/N. He brings his hands to his face and tries to replicate what she did earlier. T-O-M. His name. Simple, but on her fingers, it looked like a masterpiece. His could never compare to that. Nothing in his life leading up to that moment with Y/N could ever compare to that.

///

///

Taglist: 

@screeching-student-unknown / @nyctophilicstyles /  @captainbuckyy / @vintage-moonlight / @breadbudzo / @h-natale / @originalpinkpowerranger / @happywolves81 / @drunkgreek / @iamnida95 / @sydthekidsloth / @starksparker / @spiderboytotherescue / @laureharrier

[beyoncesdragon]

A little help, a little love (Harry Styles)

Requested: yes, on my wattpad :)

Warnings: language as per usual

a/n: the one you can find on my wattpad has a slightly different ending, so if you coincidentally read that other one first, maybe give this a try too! I actually wrote this ending first, but somehow decided I would rewrite the whole thing #3amthoughts. 

My Masterlist  this can be found on my Wattpad

(Gif found on Pinterest) 

The smell of green tea and cookies hit my nose when I opened the door to the Shangri-La studios. Harry must be really upset with the song…green tea and cookies had always counted as a distressing sort of ritual Harry and I had practiced, when one of us was seriously stressed out. Though, we had not been able to sit down for tea and talk in a while, due each of our jobs. 

Being a singer and songrwriter and traveling around the globe had been both of our dreams since little, but now actually living that life had made us drift apart inevitably. Harry and I had met way back in first grade, when I moved in just next to his house. I had been the new one for quite a while, not immediately hitting it off with Harry. Not that we disliked each other, more because he had his friends and he was a boy and I was new and a girl. That was why, apart from both of us being in the state of utter disgust about the other sex, we had seen no business in talking to each other. I had then quickly found my own people and so we coexisted for quite a while, before we both discovered our shared passion for music and especially, for Fleetwood Mac. That was in maybe sixth grade…we were eleven that time. 

From that moment on, we had suddenly spent several afternoons together, talking about music and listening to different kinds. When Harry had joined the school band White Eskimo, he had started to teach me how to play guitar and I had  taught myself how to play bass. I remember being quite butthurt when one of his friends and former bandmember “Joshie” refused to let me join the band, even though they were indeed short of a bass player. 

Just a few years later, Harry had auditioned for the X-Factor…and the rest was probably written down in historybooks. For me however, had started a rather difficult time as I struggled to find something that I would enjoy doing for living. This frustrating phase of my life had resulted in me writing songs about it and uploading them on YouTube – from where I got soon discovered by the record label Colombia Records. Maybe, and I still haven’t gotten clarity over it, Harry helped with that a little bit. But he refused to say something about it, to this very day. 

Whilst he had then toured with One Direction, I had started to produce my own music and also write. I learned several different instruments during that time, adding the piano and keyboard, drum kit and even a little tiny bit of violin to the bass and guitar. 

During that whole time, when my career finally took off completely and Harry’s seemed to rise out of sight, he and I had remained close friends. Not the closest of friends, due already mentioned schedule, but as close as possible. However, now that Harry went solo for quite a while, we had seen each other a bit more often – albeit that ended when he went on tour again. Though, we had had a show together, London I believe it was. For both of our fans that hadn’t been too much of a surprise since it was widely known that we were good friends.

And now he already was at his second album and for that, he had called me. Sounding close to devastated on the phone, he had confessed that he couldn’t manage to finish a single song, and that he was even further from writing a new one. So I had decided to pay him a visit in the famous Shangri-La studios where he was recording his album at the moment. 

And there I was, slipping out of my shoes and taking off my pair of Sunglasses I had out on because of paparazzi that had unfortunately gotten wind of my visit in the states. Harry had left the gate and door open for me to just walk in, promising that he would be alone in the studio so I wouldn’t have to feel awkward when walking in. 

“Harry?” I called out. Hearing how the faint melody of someone playing guitar stopped. 

“Princess? Is that you?” I grinned at the pet name and walked towards the direction I meant it coming from. “It is. Where are you?” in this second, the door almost behind me got ripped open and I jumped slightly. 

“There you are…how’s the world’s favourite curly doing?” he grinned softly before wrapping his arms around me. 

“Terrible. I can’t write music anymore, I am a failure and I don’t deserve to be here.” I laughed into the fabric of his shirt, enjoying the warmth of his hug. “Bullshit m’love. I am sure we can fix this.” He just hummed, staying in the embrace for a little longer, before then stepping away. “Gods know how I’ve missed ye…” he said, and the small, dimply smile he gave me, stole a beat of my heart. “Missed you too Harry. A lot. We should drink tea more often.” I said with a smirk, looking up at him. He hummed in agreement before softly nudging me inside the studio. I let my eyes wander over the variety of instruments and the huge control-panel. 

“In-fucking-sane.” I said with a grin and he laughed. “I know right? And despite all of this…” he dramatically pointed at the equipment, “am I not able to produce anything that is anyhow acceptable and I am ashamed.” I laughed and walked over to him, just to wrap my arms around his waist one more time. 

“Don’t be. Where is the problem? Or shall we first do the tea part…?” he gave me a soft pout and nodded, carefully dragging me to the little couch area in the corner of the studio. 

Someone – Harry – had set up a large tea pot of steaming green tea and a jar of still warm cookies next to it. He dropped down on the couch, immediately pouring some of the tea into two tea cups. I sat down on a fluffy chair on the other side of the table, giving him a thankful smile. 

“Thank you H. How’ve you been apart from the writing?” he shrugged slyly, pouring himself a cup of tea. “The thingy with Camille, but I told you about that…” I pulled a face. 

“Yeah that was nasty. Anything going on apart from that, of which I don’t know?” he shrugged, before shaking his head slowly. “I have really just been writing songs and making music ever since. Which is why this whole damn…thing is so frustrating.” I could only chuckle, carefully placing the cup down. “Then let’s not sulk around any longer. I can’t drink a proper tea with a man in a fuss.” he got up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me a few inches off the ground. 

“As you command my lady. What do you want to do first?” I yelped at him lifting me up, not really liking the loss of control I experienced at the moment. “I’d start with you letting me down, you annoying asshole. Then, show me a few of your songs you have already written and produced.” Harry obeyed, quickly pressing a kiss on my cheeks before walking over to the computers. 

“First one is called Fine Line. I think you will like it, it’s a very…raw song, kinda. You will understand. Ready?” I nodded quickly, sitting down on the chair in front of the control panel.

The song was beautiful, soft and simple and it made my heart bleed, though at the same time it healed it. Harry had faced the ground during the whole six minutes or such, the light from the large windows only hitting one side of his face. It made his eyes shine in two different shades of green: one in a light, with brown and gold specked lime and the other in a dark olive. My eyes trailed further down to the bridge of his nose and to his cupids bow. He had his lips pressed together, making them appear white. From time to time he relaxed them, causing the blood that rushed back, to colour them in a deep raspberry pink. He was just…beautiful. 

And talented, Fine Line was a master piece. “How’d ye like it?” he asked carefully, looking up to me again. “I absolutely loved it. What number of songs do you want the album to have?” Harry’s face relaxed slightly before he shrugged.

“I will probably get twelve on the album again…I am toying with the thought of making it the last track of the album.” I nodded instantly. “Yes. That’s brilliant…you’d end the album with “We’ll be alright” then…I absolutely love that.” He grinned proudly. 

“Then track #12 it is. Ready for the next one?” I nodded quickly, leaning back again and closing my eyes whilst Harry clicked play for the next song. When I opened them again at the end of the track, I caught him staring at me. “Like what you see?” I teased cheekily and he shook his head with a grin. 

“I love it.” I could only smile about that. “How was that one?” he then asked after a minute of silence. “I liked it. ‘Suppose it’s called “She”? or did I get that mixed up?” he grinned, shoving me off playfully. “Yeah it is. Those are the only ones I haven’t sent you…Adore you, Golden, She, Cherry…you’ve heard them all, right?” He then said with a shrug and I nodded. “I have. Even Watermelon sugar by the way. Then which one is the problematic child of yours?” he sighed softly, switching the track. 

“That one. I already planned it to be one of the singles to be released, I know the name I know how I want the visuals to look like but…the song itself is one big…construction site.” I nodded slowly. “Play what you already have.” He obeyed wordlessly, starting the snippet of the song. It started with a slow crescendo, an electronic sound mixed with a simple guitar chord. i was surprised by the sudden drums, positively however. Harry’s voice sounded a bit different than before. More hoarse, more scratchy and still very soft and gentle. I nodded slowly with the beat of the song. It was good…but something missed. The refrain started to play, a guitar more provisionally playing a few chords before Harry started with an idea of a strong vocal, not the full blow he could manage to sing. I stopped the song with a quick gesture. 

“I really like how the song builds up so far…though I don’t like the guitar with the bridge. It’s not…powerful enough. A guitar is more…plucking and way too playful. We got to replace this…” I started and Harry nodded slowly. “You are right. What would you insert there? A…violin?” I giggled softly and shook my head. “Piano, keyboard, something like that. No more strings Harry!” he grinned, helping me up. 

“Then there you go. Do your magic.” I shove him away lovingly, walking over to the set up keyboard, and turning it on. “Okay…play it again please…” and so we started, he played the song and I tried to follow the melody in a soft and easy way, without taking the attention off Harry’s soft voice. And that we did, again and again.

Two hours had passed since we started, the sun had started to set and I was sure that I could sing every lyric in my sleep. But we finally finished it…and I loved the song. Harry and I had ended up with the piano mixed softly with a little bit of guitar and he had added some more percussion. A thing I had done as well, a simple djembe had done the job. 

“I feel like…something is still missing somehow.” Harry confessed sheepishly, giving me an innocent look. “What? Spill Harry, you know I won’t be weirded out.” I replied with an eye roll. My feet were drawn up to my chest and I sat on the swivel chair in front of the console again. Harry, who stood behind the chair so we would both have a good look on the screen grinned, before softly wrapping his arms around me. “I don’t think it should be my voice alone in the refrain. You know, that shine-thingy…” I frowned softly. 

“You want me on the song?” he nodded, giving me big doe eyes. I sighed and nodded softly. “Yes sure…but can we please do that tomorrow? I am tired H.” Harry nodded immediately, stepping away from the chair. “You have stuff for sleeping over here?” I shook my head. “Nope. I actually planned on going back into a hotel I checked in…my stuff’s there. I didn’t knew that the SL-studios had bedrooms?” he shrugged. 

“They have three actually. Do you wanna sleep here and just take some of my clothes?” I nodded quickly, feeling sleepy all out of a sudden. “Then come on up princess. Let’s get you tucked in.” he offered his hand and I pulled myself out of the chair with it. I was just a tad surprised when he held on to my hand for some time, but maybe he was as sleepy as I was – and sleepy Harry is cuddly like no other humanly creature I knew.

Ten minutes, an oversized Harry-tee and a new teeth brush later, Harry and I stood in the bathroom together. I had decided that I was simply too tired to stand, so it sat down on the cold marble floor, earning an amused chuckle from Harry. I shushed him with a slap on his leg, before he dropped down next to me. 

“Feels like a flashback t’those nights y’were tipsy after clubbing.” He mumbled through the teeth paste and I snorted. “When we both were drunk. Don’t try and…escape your past Mister.” He laughed quietly before getting up to wash his face and mouth. Just seconds later I did the same. 

“What room should I take?” I asked after we both exited the bathroom. “Oh about that…” Harry started, a soft blush suddenly spreading on his cheeks. “Would you mind sleeping over at mine? It’s just because I really missed you and I don’t want to feel lonely…” 

“and because you’re a needy, cuddly little baby. It’s okay Harry, as long as I can sleep on the left side.” He threw me a sly grin before suddenly sprinting down the hallway. 

“The faster is the quicker.” He yelled and I sprinted after him with an outraged cry. Harry ended up on the left side, what made me pout for an eternity, before he got up with a sigh, dropped down on the other side and wrapped his arms around me. 

“Better?” I nodded. “Way better. Good night Harry.” He yawned sleepily, resting his face in the back of my neck. “G’night lovie. I am so glad you’re here.” I chuckled softly, snuggling myself a little closer into my best friends embrace. “Me too. Now sleep, we have work to do tomorrow.” He mumbled something under his breath before sighing. “Mitch, Sammy and Tyler are coming tomorrow. N’ Jeff as well. Maybe Sarah…yeh, Sarah as well. You are okay with that, right?” I nodded softly. “Sure, I love them. Especially Sarah’s fruit salad. Speaking of, can she bring some?” Harry laughed silently, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. “I can ask…”

-

The next morning I stumbled into the studio in still Harry’s shirt and shorts, not exactly expecting everyone already being present. And if I say everyone I mean everyone, the whole bloody band and some of the writers including Jeff, were present. 

There was Sarah, relaxedly leaned back on the couch in the back, Mitch right next to her with a bass in his hands, Sammy and Tyler crouched over the control panel, Clair (the only one from his band I hadn’t really met properly) with a mug of coffee at the broad window ledge and Adam, carefully polishing another bass. The second I entered – mind you, still in a messy bun and sleepy – the conversation in the room died down immediately. Everyone stared at me for a second, before Sarah yelled; 

“I got your fruit salad baby!” from the back of the studio and the awkward bubble of “Oh shit what do I do” burst into pieces. Harry, who leaned against the panel, was the closest to me, so he was the first to hug me. 

“Morning princess. Have ye slept well?” I nodded, still a bit droopy, before hitting his bicep softly. “Could’ve said something instead of just disappearing! S’embarassing, fucks sake…” he just laughed and shook his head. 

“Bullshit babe. Ye looked adorable, like a cute little deer in the spotlight.” I snorted and pushed him away. “Yeah, cute.” I retorted sarcastically, before I went on to hug Claire. “Nice to finally meet you. was a bit of a rush in London back then…but I am glad you made it here.” She greeted me friendly, and I instantly liked her. 

“Agree. Sorry I had to leave so quick after the show…couldn’t say goodbye properly to you.” she just waved it off, before stepping aside for me to greet Jeff, Sammy and Tyler. “Look at that A-list celeb in a baggy shirt that’s not even hers, shorts and fuzzy socks.” Sammy immediately teased. 

Oh, right. I was not only wearing Harry’s tee, shorts and had a (very) messy bun – I also wore blue and white striped fuzzy socks. Ideal, let me tell you. I snorted, pushing him off me with a frown. 

“Just so you know, even Ellie Saab, Gucci, Chanel or Salvatore Ferragamo aren’t comfortable always…not that you could know Sammy. You C-List producer.” I mumbled under my breath and everyone laughed loudly. 

“Shots fired! Even sleepy, A-class Pokémon Celebrity number one manages to block a shot fired by C-class Pokémon Producer and finish her opponent with super move: instant kill. Good job Trainer.” Tyler commented sarcastically and I rolled my eyes. 

“Yeah, Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light! Surrender now, or prepare to fight!” I quoted drily and Tyler pulled me into a bone crushing hug. “I fucking love that one. We should write more often.” I nodded, breaking into a soft grin. “True. Now move along, you stand between me and my fruit salad.” 

After I greeted Sarah, Mitch and the rest of the band and team, I just sat down to munch the delicious fruit salad Sarah had made for me (I loved that woman) and just listened to them talking. They had all listened to the newer version of Lights Up - that was how Harry had called it - and all agreed with Harry that I should sing those few lines with him. 

“Get up…” Harry suddenly mumbled, placing himself in front of my unbothered self. I looked up at him, shovelling another fork of fruit into my mouth. 

“Wha’?” he sighed before pulling me up, sitting on the chair I sat on before and pulling me back into his lap. “Couch’s occupied.” He then said quietly, resting his head on my shoulder. I just hummed, not paying his actions much thought. It was just Harry being affectionate. Sarah gave me a small smile that I returned thinking it was about the fruit salad, but when Claire did the same I wondered…if it perhaps was because of something else. 

“I quickly go and clean that. There’s a kitchen, right?” Sarah and Claire immediately got up. “Yep there is. I come along, need a coffee.” She explained and I nodded. “Same here.  Anyone else something?” Claire asked into the group but no one seemed to need anything. I carefully got up, Harry’s arms around me loosening up a little. He slowly lifted his chin from my shoulder so I wouldn’t knock him away, giving me a weird look. 

“What?” he shrugged. “Nothing. Would you be so kind and get me a coffee as well?” I nodded before following Claire and Sarah into the kitchen.

“You two are cute.” Claire said with a small smile, handing me a dry towel. “What? Who?” 

“Harry and you! who else?” she explained laughing and I frowned. “We aren’t a thing. Just friends as far as I know.” I explained and Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. 

“He’s just very affectionate around you.” I shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable under the drilling of the two. “That’s just Harry? He’s always been that way.” Though it was a true fact, that he really had always been a very touchy guy, my statement came out more like a question. I mean yes, that he was very touchy right now that hadn’t gone unnoticed by me, and yes, he’s been very needy since I came here…but so? To be completely honest, it wasn’t like him being that way wouldn’t affect me, of course it did. It was also hard to not let it or him affect you in general, because Harry Styles just was a man whose presence always left an impact somehow. Be it because of his golden heart and precious persona, because of his undeniable dashing looks or his outstanding talent. And I would also lie if I’d say that his presence made my heart skip several times and his hasty touches and pecks wouldn’t make my pulse quicken. Of course it did – it was Harry. 

Claire and Sarah dropped the topic Harry after that, and we talked about the song and the process of the album whilst the coffee machine hummed.

⋆

I refused to let them make a feature out of the song. Even though, Harry almost begged me to let them, I said no. 

“I don’t want it! I don’t want to earn money off of this record Harry!” he sighed and shook his head. “But why? Because…because you don’t like it and don’t want to get associated with it?” I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Shut up you twat, I love this song like my own child. It’s because you asked me for help, and I helped. And help in a friendship doesn’t have to be rewarded. This is planned to be your first single of your new album and it is supposed to be just you. Because it’s your song Harry!” this time, it was Harry rolling his eyes at me. 

“At least let me give you a writing credit…” I groaned and shook my head. “I don’t want my name on the song. In no possible way. Additionally to this, you have not employed me. I am whether part of your band, nor your production team, I am your friend, and therefore I do not accept any form of payment. Just leave it Harry! It’s not important anyways.” 

He just shook his head. “You mad woman…but you do know that your fans probably still pick up your voice, if you like it or not.” I shrugged, pushing myself off the table. The whole team watched us, heads turning between Harry and me like during a tennis match. 

“Then so it be. I don’t care about someone recognizing my voice. I just want that this thing stays your song through and through, like any other songs I’ve done touch-ups on for you.” he opened his arms for me to hug him and as I did, he pulled me down on the couch. “You are fucking amazing do you know that?” he mumbled under his breath and I snorted. 

“Obviously.”

There had been pictures of us. Lots of them, flooding my twitter and Instagram feed, the most popular one was a snapshot of me eating fruit salad on Harry’s lap. His head rested on my shoulder, the tee that was obviously his very own perfectly well visible. 

My notifications went crazy with tagged tweets, and since the fans had caught on to the fact that it was indeed, my voice in Lights up,  Harry’s and mine ship name was trending. Mitch that little bastard only fuelled the fire by liking a tweet saying: 

“Now I know where Harry has all those fruit references from.” 

The picture just described linked to it. It now had been retweeted fifty-six thousand times and I was on the verge of flying over seas and strangling Mitch with my own hands. That bloody twit. That hashtag was now trending for two days already and I had received multiple phone calls from several of my family and friends, asking if I was really dating Harry Styles and when the wedding would take place and if I would go on tour with him and if by chance, I would already be pregnant and if, if I already knew what gender the angel was. Long story short, they were all driving me crazy, even if they weren’t serious and just making fun of the whole situation. 

And I had heard nothing of Harry. He had not called, texted, tweeted or written an email and I was too scared to call him again. I had, one time, but he hadn’t picked up and since then I had given it up. I just wanted to know what he thought of this whole thing, of us trending of now two fandoms pretty much shipping us and all that mess that had started, simply because some stupid snap shots of us were leaked. 

And when I wanted to know his thoughts about it, at the same time I didn’t. I was anxious, because I wouldn’t know how to react if he disliked us being shipped, if he really just saw me as a friend like I always said I did, or if there had be some truth hidden in Claire and Sarah’s assumptions. Because speaking strictly for myself…I caught myself not bothering about being pictured as Harry’s girlfriend. 

And the longer this madness was going on, the more I was convinced that I knew that when he first hugged me as I stepped into the SL-Studios, around a month ago.

And maybe my hopeless romantic heart would’ve had a little bit more confidence about the whole thingy, if there hadn’t been this Late Late show thing with Kendall Jenner, that set the internet in an even greater fuss than before. I read tweets like 

“#Hendall coming for their necks”

and 

“Omg the way they look at each other! #Hendall is rising again!” 

and other tweets that fuelled slight insecurity. But thanks to Mitch’s actions (that knob)…our ship was still trending and I still wasn’t sure if I liked it entirely or not. 

Facts however was, that I would have to talk with Harry about it, sooner or later. Because the thing wouldn’t go away until one of us would say something. The question was only how: in person or over phone.

I obviously would’ve preferred it over phone because I wasn’t already ready to confess my feelings that I had tried to hide away from everyone, but one look on my face and he would know that something’s in the bushes. To my displeasure had he the ability to read me quite well. And over phone, that was way harder. 

⋆

The clicking of my front door made me flinch and almost spill the hot tea over my fingers. 

“Hello?” I asked confused, knowing that there were three people including me, in possession of a key to my house: my manager, me and well…Harry? 

“’Ello there love…sorry I didn’t wanted to ring and wait because there were people and I felt like if I don’t step in now, I will get recognised. By the way, how comes that you have the same key for the elevator and the door lock, but not every apartment can be opened with that key? When the elevator is for everyone in the private apartment’s…with key?” I grinned at his flood of question and shrugged.

“I really don’t know, but may I ask what in the bloody hell you are doing here? I thought you’re in LA?” he shrugged, placing a Gucci luggage with colourful Mickey mouse print down. 

“Oh ye know…” he said smugly, slipping out of his shoes. “Planning to crash for a few?” I remarked, nodding towards the luggage. He just shrugged. 

“Depends. However, to answer your first question: I am meeting a very lovely lady that has stubbornly denied getting any credit of feature on my album. To answer the second question…I was in LA, yes. Then I took that thing they call airplane and…” I got up with a chuckle and wrapped my arms around him. “Yeah shut it, you big fool. I wasn’t planning on sounding rude, I was just a bit startled because I was just thinking of you.” he rose his eyebrows. 

“I am flattered. Was it a nice dream?” I felt my cheeks heat up a little. “I haven’t dreamt about you, you narcissistic asshole.” He just winked cheekily. “Sure not…” “and if I would, it would’ve been a nightmare.” I closed off and he grinned. “Rude.” 

“Asked for it.” He shrugged, dragging me to the couch before saying another word. “What are you doing?” I asked, letting him pull me down next to him. 

“We need to talk.” He explained, suddenly seeming way more serious. “You don’t wanna drink or eat anything…” I asked carefully, but he just shook his head. “Had something on m’ way. Now…” he took a deep breath and scooted back a little so he could rest against back of the couch. “I am pretty sure you are aware of that twitter thing going on…” he said with careful glance at my face…and I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks heat up. 

“Obviously.” He hummed quickly before continuing. “What do you think of it?” well, this was not how I wanted it to roll. I didn’t wanted to be the first one speaking up. (but then I should’ve probably done the same thing Harry did – and finally grow a pair). However, right now I felt unprepared and flustered and nervous. I was taken aback by him appearing on my doorstep out of the blue and coming to the point that quickly. 

“I don’t…I don’t know really.” I managed to stutter and avoided his eyes strictly. Just calm down, Jesus Christ…breathe. 

“That means…?” he asked carefully, eyes expectantly resting on me. “It means that I don’t know. Like, maybe I mind it but probably I don’t because I don’t really mind the thought of us but just maybe and I don’t know.” Harry’s brows were furrowed as he tried to follow my torrent of words. 

“I…understand. Partly.” He said, a soft smirk settling on his face. “So you don’t…mind them.” 

“Them what?” he leaned forward a bit, supporting his head with his arms on his knees. “Them shipping us.” I gulped. “I guess I don’t.” he nodded slowly. 

“Alright. And if I told you that I don’t either, what does that mean for us?” my heart skipped a beat. Well, maybe three or four beats at his words and my eyes grew wide. “Y-you don’t mind?” he shook his head, the hint of a blush covering his cheeks. 

“I actually...never really did. I liked the thought of us for a good while now. And the twitter thing…well it only confirmed me.” He then confessed, giving me a nervous chuckle. 

“Are you kidding me?” I asked slowly, growing almost smug when I watched his blush deepen.

“I…I am not.” With a swift move I leaped forward and tackled him backwards down on the couch. “And all that damn time you have never called? You idiot!” he laughed bringing his hand up to my face. 

“Sorry I let you suffer, but you could’ve called too.” I huffed, obviously being aware of that. “No I couldn’t, because first of all, I am a coward you know that, and second, I was embarrassed because you were supposed to be my best friend and you don’t fall for your best friend and third, the whole interview thing with Kendall…” 

Harry laughed out loud. “Kendall? You got jealous because of my interview with Kendall?” I snorted. “I don’t know what you have with putting words in my mouth I never said, I never once said that I got jealous…” Harry cut me off with a quick peck on my lips and a knowing twinkle in his eyes. 

“Yeah maybe I got jealous…” I mumbled with a scrunched nose and he laughed. “Yeah maybe ye did.”

Ending from Wattpad here

[lordendsavior]

In the latest episode of HBO’s new NSFW teen drama Euphoria, there was sex scene between Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson. Well, kinda. One of the characters in the show, Kat (played by Barbie Ferreira), is famous online for writing One Direction fan fiction, specifically about Larry Stylinson, the name given to the theory that Styles and Tomlinson were, in fact, lovers. The sex scene in the episode actually comprised of versions of the two former boyband members in an animated scene lifted from one of this character’s stories. It’s unfortunate that the animation left Styles looking a little like Lord Voldemort and Tomlinson like a sweaty teenage boy. 

But while that aspect of the show might not have been real, the conspiracy of Larry Stylinson very much is. Since One Direction were launched off the back of The X Factor in 2010, Tomlinson and Styles have been dogged by rumours that they are embroiled in a love affair. On Tumblr – a breeding ground for fan theories, fan art, fan videos and fan fiction – fans would collect GIFs, images and videos of the pair that “proved” that they were in a relationship. A lingering glance was decoded as a lustful stare, the brush of knees during an interview a sign of a secret intimacy. These in turn would mutate into smutty fan fiction about the pair, where these unspoken sexual wants could play out in full explicit glory.

In the tradition of Bennifer and Brangelina, their names, like their desires, were brought together for the portmaneu Larry Stylinson. Shipping them – the act of wanting two people to be together romantically – became a way of life for some fans. To this day, these fans, known as Larries, are unwavering in their belief, love and support of Larry Stylinson.

The same cannot be said for Louis Tomlinson. For nearly nine years, he has been dogged by rumours and speculation about his relationship with Styles. This latest outing of Larry in Euphoria is just another example of the theory’s pervasiveness. After the scene aired, some fans on Twitter messaged Tomlinson to see if he had been consulted about the scene. His reply was telling. “I can categorically say that I was not contacted nor did I approve it,” he wrote.

For years, Tomlinson has categorically denied that Larry is real. In 2012  he responded to a fan stating that “Larry is the biggest load of b——- I’ve ever heard”, and in a 2017 interview with The Sun, the Doncaster-born singer said that he found the rumours disrespectful of his relationships with women and shared how it had also affected his friendship with Styles. “It took away the vibe you get off anyone. It made everything, I think on both fences, a little bit more unapproachable,” he revealed. “I think it shows that it was never anything real, if I can use that word.”

The decision to include the animated Larry sex scene in Euphoria has provied divisive. On Twitter, One Direction fans have dubbed it “disrespectful”, “vile” and an “embarrassment”. Even self-professed Larries called out the scene and some fans went so far as to start a Change.org petition to have the scene removed from the episode. (At the time of writing it has over nearly 17,000 signatures.)

The fandom’s rejection of Larry, at first, seems hypocritical. How can the very people who have spent years perpetuating the narrative that Tomlinson and Styles are romantically linked show annoyance when that same narrative gets utilised in wider media? However, fandom, specifically fan fiction, is a contradictory and confusing beast. The thing is, Larry Stylinson is bigger than the two boyband members at its core. Their supposed romantic relationship really has nothing to do with them at all.

To give a brief history of fan fiction, the medium, while it always existed in some form, came to prominence in the 1970s in fanzines for the TV show Star Trek. Then known as slash fiction (the slash refers to the forward slash that divide the two characters, for example “Kirk/Spock”), these early writings reexamined scenes within Star Trek episodes where it appeared that there was coded queer behaviour, language or sexual tension. A chance meeting on the bridge of the USS Enterprise could result in steamy sex behind a computer console. A violent clash with a Klingon that left either Spock/Kirk injured, may end with a restorative tryst in a hospital wing.

As fan communities evolved from zines to online forums, so fan fiction became more widely accessible. Forums gave birth to sites like fanfiction.net and archiveofourown.org, where every intellectual property from Harry Potter to Bob the Builder was free game. And not every story written was sexual, either. Many fan fictions, while romantic in nature, kept their plots suitable for all ages. They also mainly took fictional characters and queered formerly heteronormative (or platonic) senarios.

Incorporating of real people – celebrities, public figures, popstars, actors, artists – into these stories propagated during this online boom of fan fanction. Portals like nifty.org had dedicated sections for celebrity fan fiction, while sites like Wattpad, a sort of social media site for writers to share their work, filled with stories about famous people. During One Direction’s imperial phase, Wattpad especially became a hive of 1D fan fiction.

And not all of it was slash fiction, either. Anna Todd’s popular YA novel After, which became a movie this year, had its beginnings as One Direction fan fiction on Wattpad. That story featured a heterosexual relationship. Her literary success follows in the footsteps of EL James, whose Twilight fan fiction was repackaged as 50 Shades of Grey.

Nevertheless, it’s fair to say that much fan fiction, smutty or not, specifically draws on queer narratives. The reasons for this are multi-faceted. Demographically, fan fiction is predominantly written by women. In the case of Spock and Kirk, it has been argued by academics that in queering their relationship, women were able to carve out safe sexual spaces in the world of fiction away from the dominant glare of patriarchal sexuality.

According to fandom academic Camille Bacon-Smith, the fact that the gender of the characters was the same allowed women to reconstruct men without the toxicity of masculinity. The American writer Joanna Russ added to this, suggesting that in this safe space, women were able to explore their fantasies outside the confines of heteropatriarchal normalcy.

In fact, Constance Penley, a professor of Film & Media Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara, wrote in her book Nasa/Trek Popular Science and Sex in America that the gender of the characters was irrelevant. The act of having characters acknowledge their homosexual desires, she argued, was a metaphorical one, grounded in a desire to change “oppressive sexual roles”.

Still, exploring sexual desire with fictional characters doesn’t feel like an ethical problem. Neither, really, do private fantasies about real people. But fan fiction takes those private fantasies and makes them public. If authors like JK Rowling and Annie Proulx (Brokeback Mountain) take umbrage with fans writing their own stories using their made up characters, how do real people feel about having their lives dissected and fictionalised for entertainment?

The problem is the blurred line between celebrity and the human being. As celebrity’s lives playout on websites, television and physical media, their real life stories – often fabricated for headlines or sales – become a sport. There’s a twisted sense of ownership over these people. The public, as a throbbing and beating entity, made them famous. Their payment is their lives. The boundaries begin to disappear, and these human beings become characters in a soap opera. The internet, which its unending ocean of content, only helps to conjure more moments that fans can decode or adapt for their fics.

The implications of this are different for everyone. Stars like Benedict Cumberbatch and Andrew Scott, who played Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty respectively in the BBC’s cult favourite Sherlock, take the fictionalised versions of their lives in their stride. In an interview with MTV, Cumberbatch, while acknowledging that he found some of the racier stories weird, called it “flattering”. Daniel Radcliff and James McAvoy also seemed to be able to find the humour in it (although, again, acknowledging that they find it “really weird"). There’s also those who just outright ignore that this phenomenon exists.

Harry Styles, despite being one half of Larry Stylinson, has only ever alluded to it once. After the release of his debut solo album, fans speculated that the track Sweet Creature was about Tomlinson. In an interview with a radio station, Styles said: “I think people are always gonna speculate what songs are about, and I don’t think I’d ever want to tell anyone that they’re wrong for feeling what they feel about a song. Even when they’re not necessarily right. But I think if you really listen to the lyrics, I think you can work out if it’s really about that or not, and I would lean towards no.”

However, this level of ambivalence isn’t always easy. In a recent interview with British GQ, Taron Egerton expressed his discomfort with people writing fan fiction about him. “I don’t know why people think I’d want to see that,” he said. “I don’t love it at all.”

It seems that Louis Tomlinson exists firmly in this camp. And unlike these other celebrities, the ship he was involved in evolved into a full blown conspiracy theory. Fans accused management of keeping his and Styles’s relationship a secret. Paparazzi pictures, performances, interviews, press cuttings, tweets and Instagram posts were dissected for clues that the pair were linked. Tomlinson and Styles were bombarded on Twitter by fans, the first comment under every post on social media almost always being “Larry is real”. That level of scrutiny would have been difficult for anyone, but for a teenager progressing into young adulthood it was unbearable.

What’s debatable is whether any of these fans and their libraries of “proof” and “receipts” actually believe that Larry Stylinson is real or whether shipping them is just an extension of their fan fiction fantasies. For the millions of One Direction fans, the members of the group, while clearly real people, were also mythic, so far removed from their realities that they were almost imaginary.

Anyone who has ever truly obsessed over a band or musician can understand that this distance between true human interaction incubates a need to develop an alternative form of intimacy, be it through listening religiously to their music, attending concerts or cooking up fantasies.

And because of the inequalities in knowledge between celebrities and non-celebrities, where we know everything about them and they know nothing about us, these fantasies, and in turn our perceptions of them, become skewered. This mutation is the perfect breeding ground for fan fiction and conspiracy theories as we attempt to fill in the blanks in our intimate knowledge of celebrity lives.

In the case of One Direction, whose fans were mainly young girls and gay boys, this fantasy  became a way to explore their own sexual wants and desires. It’s what the showrunner of Euphoria, Sam Levinson, told The Los Angeles Times he was trying to convey by having the character of Kat write 1D fan fiction.

The fact that the members of that boyband were in a similar age bracket only intensified things. Intimacy and a coarse understanding of celebrity saw the lines between fantasy and reality blur, accelerated and magnified by social media. In a way, it stopped being about Styles or Tomlinson and became about the fans, the community they’d found, a safe space to explore their desires in which those desires were often mirrored and supported by others in their community.

Does all that make real person fan fiction okay? Speaking to i-D, sex psychologist Jess O’Reilly, put it like this: “How might is make someone feel? How would their parents, partner(s), kids or friends feel about reading it? How would they feel if their friends and family read your work? How would you feel if someone published a similar story about you, your child, your partner, your best friend, your sibling or someone else you love?”

For Tomlinson, who has repeatedly shared the impact the sexual speculation had on his relationship with Styles, maybe a line has been crossed. His discomfort with the theories and fan fiction, along with countless other public figures who take issue with it, should be respected.

And, really, in the pantheon of fandoms, Larry Stylinson was its own perfect storm of burgeoning internet cultures, the proliferation of social media and cute boys singing pop bangers. The need to share sexual desires in fan fiction and, by extension, romantic celebrity conspiracy theories, feels more complicated than mere right or wrong, but rather an expanse of grey, ethical ambiguity.

It also feels too late for it to stop, too. Perhaps, as the role and makeup of what constitutes celebrity evolves, accepting fan fiction in its myriad of forms, like with gossip and rumours, is par for the course. Clearly, it’s up to the individual to figure out if they’re okay with that.

[iainwrites]

A Samhain Brouhaha

Harry Dresden, trick-or-treating with Maggie, Karrin and Mouse.  And a tie to the earliest stories I posted on here.

“Charity, you can trust me.”

“Harry, I know you’re trying to be a good man and do right, but you’re also Harry Dresden and that name doesn’t inspire a lot of trust, especially for what you’re asking for.”

“What I’m... All I’m asking for is that I can take her out for one night.  That’s all.”

“I’ve heard that request before, and we both know what came of it.”

“It was an accident!  How was I to know...”

“Yes, Harry.  How were you to know?  Something like this means you need to know, and to be prepared for whatever might happen.”

“... Mouse will be with us.  Do you trust Mouse?”

“I trust Mouse with her life.  But Mouse is just one dog and...

“Murphy will be there, too.”

“... I suppose I can trust Mouse and Karrin to keep an eye on her.  And you too.”

“Great!  Thanks, Charity.  You won’t regret this.”

       My name is Harry... Well, you know the rest.  Wizard and Warden of the White Council, Knight of Winter, Warden of Demonreach, yadda yadda yadda.  It feels like I have more titles than the Cubs at this point, and they all mean something different to someone.  After a while, it just gets tiring repeating them all, and they seem to lose their importance.

      A few years ago, none of this would have meant much for my personal life.  I lived alone, with nothing else in my life but my work and a few people kept at arm’s length that I could call my friends.  It’s funny how the years can change things.  As the world turned, my life kept getting more and more... complete, I guess.  Filled, maybe.  I found out that there are people who look up to me, then that I had a brother, got a dog, found out I had a daughter, then a sort-of-girlfriend-I-think.  Oh, and I died once, became possibly irreversibly connected to one of the greatest powers in the magical community, might possibly be losing my morality, and am currently the master of a jail that makes Area 51 look like an amusement park.  But those things aren’t as important as the family side.

      All of my history, those titles and that backstory doesn’t mean much tonight.  Everything else is pushed to the side, and tonight I’m wearing only one of those mantles.  Maybe the most valued one.  Tonight, I am Harry Dresden: Dad.  And with that mantle comes a responsibility like no other I have shouldered before.

      “Alright, Maggie.  We’ll go whenever you want to.  Charity made sure I know the list of houses that we can go to, and Mouse-bacca will make sure that anyone who's acting too spooky won’t bother us, okay?”

      “Okay...”

      “What?  You don’t believe in the Great Mouse-bacca?  I mean, he might not look like much, but he’s got it where it counts, right?”

      The walking carpet that is my dog actually manages something that sounds closer to a Chewbacca warble than his usual chuffing sound.  Matched with the belt slung around his middle and a little bit of brown dye, it’s hard to mistake him for anything other than a Wookie.  The rest of us are dressed in a way that makes it impossible to see us as anything but nerds.

      Maggie, with the help of a mother who has spent more years making costumes than anyone else I can begin to think of, is dressed up in a Rey costume, complete with a little lightsaber.  Karrin and I nearly came to blows over what we were going to wear.  I’m... well, ME, so of course I’d be the dashing and roguish Han Solo, right?  And my partner is a giant, furry thing.  It practically writes itself!  Karrin argued that I’m the dork and should be Luke Skywalker, while she’s the cool guy with the gun.  She may have also mentioned something about being able to kick my ass.  And so here she stands in her black vest and over-sized pistol at her side and looking (damn me for saying this) appropriately Han Solo-y.

      I wasn’t content with being Luke, and am not nearly old enough to be rocking the Sir Alec Guinness look, so I settled on something a little more my style.  Thanks to a mop of hair as a result of living out on a deserted island for way too long, a scar across an eye thanks to a past encounter and a penchant for flirting with the dark side of magic, I gussy myself up as an over-sized Anakin, pre-lava bath.  With a little help from Andy, we managed to make up a casing for my blasting rod that looks like the hilt of a lightsaber.  A little focus and the blade lights up with a nice shade of blue, thanks to a little help from Winter.  We couldn’t figure out how to get it to sound right, so I end up making the sounds myself.  All in all, we look like a nice, nerdy family out for some trick-or-treating.  And that’s how it all began: a nice, nerdy sort-of family trick-or-treating together.

      I was worried when we started out that all of the costumes, noise and excitement might be too much for Maggie.  I mean, there’s a lot that usually goes on during Halloween night.  For the normal people, at least.  There’s the noises, the lights, the people running around costumes that go from home-made to movie quality.  And while she starts off close to Mouse, Murphy and me at any particular time, she eventually starts to look the way she should: a little girl out on Halloween, hitting up houses for a sugar fix.  She might not be running around Hell and Creation like some of the other munchkins out there, but there is a smile on her face, and a little bounce in her step.

      Mouse, Murphy and I take turns going up to doors with her, each of us to varying degrees of success.  Mouse always seemed to be a lock for more candy, because whenever she comes back the bag feels a lot heavier.  When she goes up with Murphy, Karrin comes back with a smile on her face, with just a hint of conflict hidden underneath.  A part of me wants to ask; the intelligent part knows to stay quiet.  The detective part of me has suspicions.  When she was married to Rich, there was tension around them having kids and her staying home to take care of them.  Going up to a door with a kid for Halloween and being told that your “daughter” is cute is probably playing around in head each time.

      When I take her up, I get to experience my own brand of head and heartache.  I keep hearing them ooh and ahh over her costume, and how sweet or cute or cool she looks, then there’s the looks up to me.  And I hear them say again how sweet she looks.  And it tears a piece out of my heart each time.  Susan and I should be taking her out for this.  Susan should be here with our daughter.  Our daughter should never have had to go through everything she’s gone through.  She should be living a normal life, spooked of the costumes at Halloween because she has an overactive imagination, not because of what she’s lived through.  And I smile, try not to loom so much, thank them and squeeze my little girl’s hand when we walk back to the street.  I steel myself for the next time that I’ll hear those words, and try to make the most out of this first father/daughter Halloween.

      On my side of the magical divide, Halloween has this recent habit of being more exciting each year.  The wearing down the divide between the living and the dead, necromantic rituals, changing of mantles, and the killing of immortals seem like they’re only the tip of the iceberg these days, and there’s always the little whisper in my ear that there’s going to be more.  Somehow, I manage to trick myself for a fair portion of the night that this one will be different.  That the creepy crawlies from the other side will take the night off and give me a chance to have a well-deserved break.

      Yeah, right.  The author of my life isn’t ever going to be that nice to me.

      The first indication is the sudden jerk of Mouse’s leash.  He’s usually happy to trot along at his own pace, with the leash there to show everyone he’s a well-behaved dog.  It’s not uncommon for him to stop and smell the proverbial roses; but for him to stop because there’s something he wants to stop, that’s enough to get my attention.  The only thing that stands out around us is a small pack of costumed clowns hanging a little ways back.  They all have the shabby zombie costume that seems to keep its firm grip from year to year, combined with some cheap masks.  The clothes portion of the costumes are pretty good, comparatively; they look distressed, like there was some actual damage to them.  I know those kinds of rips and tears intimately.  They even got the blood patterns around the tears right.

      The night gets cold when I realize that some of the rips and the stains look fresh.  And have that quality that costumes either exaggerate or downplay.  I look from the costumes to the people (no, things) wearing them.  They move in sync, coordinated.  My brain goes back to my throw-away description of them and revises is: a little ways back behind us is a small Pack of costumed wolves.

      The Pack.  A holdover from an old fight some Hunters and I should have finished and buried.  They’re a roaming group of monsters who hunt together, and have been the death of innocents and those that have tried to stop them.  The legendary Hunter John Winchester worked with the fledgling Black Cats to kick their asses up around their mouths decades back.  After a misunderstanding, Karrin and I teamed up with his sons, Sam and Dean, to ring the bell on Round 2.  We didn’t finish them off, but I thought we left them with a nose that was so bloody that they’d never want to try hunting together again.  Apparently, the lesson wasn’t definitive enough for them, because here they stand, lesser in number but still a threat to everyone walking this street.

      Karrin must have realized that we’ve been left behind, because she calls back to us.  “You okay, Harry?”

      Mouse clues in that I’m clued in and goes from alert growl to “stay way the hell away” growl.  “Yeah,” I reply.  “Mouse just has to use the little doggy’s tree.  We’ll catch up with you in a little bit.”

      “You sure?  We can wait.”

      My gut starts to get wrenched around.  I want my daughter to be safe, and safe is away from these things.  But if she’s sent away, that means I can’t be there to protect her.

      But Murphy will be there, and short of Michael, she’s the one person I know I can trust to keep my daughter safe.  “We’ll be there in a bit.  I’m going to take Mouse away from the street so nobody has to get caught up in it.  Have you been feeding him table scraps again, Maggie?  Because you’ll have to clean up you’ve been sneaking taco’s to Mouse.”

      My daughter gives off a little giggle and Mouse lets off the subsonic growl long enough to give a happy little chuff.  I pat his head, wave to Karrin and Maggie and start to lead him to an alley, digging out one of the plastic bags we’ve been using for Maggie’s haul.  I see Karrin look from me to Mouse, to the Pack and unlatch her blaster.  Just like I put a case around my blasting rod, she has a plastic shell around her service pistol.  It might not be much, but it’ll sure as hell slow down anything that I let get past me.

      The Pack seem to size up Karrin and Maggie as they leave.  Their gaze stays on them for a very uncomfortable time, before slowing coming back to me.  The message is loud and clear: “We saw them, we’ll remember them and we’ll find them.”  Yeah?  I have my own message.

      “Okay, assholes.  You were dumb enough to sign up for Round 3, so let’s find a nice quiet corner so I can beat on you like I’m Rocky.”

      As they follow me, one makes its way out of the main body, to stand in front of them like a spokesperson.  I can tell even underneath the costume what it is, and a fire starts to burn through my veins.  Human sized, but not human like. Extra-long arms that end in claws.  An unhealthy color that some could pass off as make-up but I recognize as naturally disgusting.  And behind the mask, eyes that are weighing and measuring you up for its plate.  A ghoul.  A ghoul who has seen my daughter.  Ever since the Red Court was dealt with, the whole race of ghouls have been moved up to the top of my “Things That World Will Never Miss” list.  This one just reserved extra special placement.

      I take my hand off of Mouse’s lead as he and I turn in sync to stare at the Pack.  The lead ghoul stops only a few feet away from me.  The alley is barely wide enough for Mouse and I to stand side-by-side, but that also means that they’re limited by how many can come forward at a time.  It’s not my favorite ring to fight in, but there’s been worse.  “Okay.  Say your piece, then let’s get started.”

      “You assume too much, wizard,” the ghoul says to me.  I’m not sure if it’s actually speaking English or if I still understand Ancient Sumerian as a parting gift from Lash.  Whatever the case, it sounds like a snake slithering over broken bottles.  “What stops the hunters at the mouth of the alley from going back out to the street?  You?  The dog?”  Damn it.  “No.  You will hear what we have to say, you and the beast will die, then we will go out and continue our hunt.”

      “Alright, Smiley.  Let’s hear it, then.”

      “You are known, Wizard.  You are remembered.  The Pack knows your scent.  You went to ground, but have decided to appear again.”  There’s a murmur behind the ghoul that could politely described as “agreement”, if agreement was made up of growls and rumbles.  “You may have bested us in the past, but that is when you hunted with others.  The Winchesters.  They are known to us.  They are remembered.  They will be found.”

      For a ghoul, this guy is practically Shakespeare.  This is the most I’ve ever heard from one before and it all comes across as understandable.  “Alright.  So what’s your point here?  Are you just going to keep talking until I go into a coma so you don’t have to strain yourself?”  I keep my attention off of it and on the ones in the back in case they decide to amscray back onto the street like they were threatening to do.  “Because there’s actually stuff that I want to do tonight.  If that means I have to walk through all of you to get there, and this sounds weird coming from me, let’s stop talking and get it done.”

      “No, Wizard.  You do not decide the Hunt.  The Pack hunts its prey, and when it is cornered, their lives are ours.  You, a human, have no say in what happens.  Should we decide to kill you, you will die.  Should we decide to eat your beast, it will be eaten.  If we decide to hunt your mate and your whelp, they are ours for as long as we wish and for what we wish.”

      “You don’t want to do this,” I mutter, while Mouse begins to growl behind me.  The only mercy I can think of is that Karrin is away from us, and that Maggie will be safe with her.  I might even be able to take a few of them with me.  I might be able to protect my daughter from what’s to come.

      The ghoul doesn't break eye contact with me, but I’m willing to be to bet that it knows what’s going on and what’s going to happen.  The cocky bastard doesn’t even seem to care.  “Oh, I think I do, wizard.  I think I will.”  The Pack behind him shifts, the sounds of claws scraping ground, of bones snapping and reforming into monstrous forms.  I get a death grip on the lightsaber case and start to will my power into it.

      Why?  Why does this always have to happen?  I try to take my daughter out for something nice, like a trip to the zoo or out for Halloween, only for things to go sideways on us.  This life, this job, this responsibility... I’m okay with it.  But I want to be a father once in a while.  I want to try and give Maggie a normal life whenever possible, but something seems so damn set in ruining that for us.  There is always something that shows up and ruins things and keeps me from connecting with my own daughter.  Susan should be here.  Our lives shouldn’t be so... wrong.  She should be allowed to grow up with a mother and a father and never have to worry about all of these things.  All of this is happening and I’m just about ready to...

      Something around us changes.  I’m not even aware of it until I hear something shift in Mouse’s voice.  It still carries a sound of warning, but there’s something else.  Anticipation?  Excitement?  A certain reckless happiness that his human sometimes shows?  He’s ready for a fight, but there’s something that’s allowing him to relax, even in the smallest ways.  He’s not worried about the fight.  From what I hear, he might even be looking forward to it.  I do a quick scope around me to see what could flip the switch in him.  Turns out it’s a lot closer than I’d ever expect.

      It’s my blasting-saber.  A firey shade of orange is starting to appear in the core nearest the hilt.

      Its old color.  Something from years ago that has since been covered in Winter ice.

      MY old color.  A color of will, and excitement, and barely controlled power, all of it coming from me.  Not a mantle.  Not a mostly immortal Faerie Queen.  

                                                      Me.

      I bring my eyes back up to the ghoul, and I smile.  It’s not a nice smile, but it’s one with a promise.  “Let me rephrase that.  You’re NOT going to do this.”

      The remnants of the Pack shift, the faces under their costume masks shifting.  Most of them change their posture and flex their hands, getting ready for the fight they’ve been working themselves up for all night.  What they don’t understand is that the moment they looked at my daughter, they didn’t have a chance in Hades.

      “Here’s why you’re not going to do that.  In fact, here’s why after tonight, you’re never going to see each other every again.”  A few give off growling laughs.  “I am Harry Dresden.  I am a wizard and Warden of the White Council.”  “Warden” makes a few of them twitch.  “I am chosen by Mab, Queen of Winter, Air and Darkness to be her Knight.  I wear the mantle of Winter, and I wear it very damn well.”  Mouse has stopped growling by now, as though he doesn’t want to take any attention off of me.  “I am Warden of Demonreach, jailer to nastier bastards than you’ll all ever be.  Combined.”  The blue of my blasting-saber exists only on the outside of the blade; fire is making up the core and it’s becoming a brighter shade of red with my every word.  “I am Bane of the Red Court.  The one who has outplayed and overcome Death.  My ride is one of the greatest predators to ever roam this earth, and I brought it back from millennia of rest. I am Ally to Hunters and Slayers.  I know and will invoke the names Winchester and Summers.  I have been tempted by and refused a coin of the Blackened Denarius.  I have led the Wild Hunt.”  THAT gets their attention like I know it would.

      The air around us suddenly gets warmer.  Almost spring-like, like the nights you sit outside near a fire.  There might be a chill in the air, but there’s also the promise of warmth and comfort.  The snow starts to melt and the grass can be seen again, and there might even be the faint sign of flowers starting to bloom.

      Life and warmth after a snow that never seemed like it would leave.

      The various creatures in front of me start to look around, probably trying to figure out what all this means.  The quicker ones figure it out and look at me, the hostility they had been showing before beginning to melt away, revealing something almost like fear.  But right now?  Fear is not enough.  Fear can be conquered or forgotten.  They need to feel something much more permanent.

      “I am Harry Dresden.  This is MY city.  And this is MY night.  I claim it by birth and by my strength.”  The tension that’s been building in this little alleyway just... pops around me.  If there’s a pressure, I don’t feel it anymore.

      “You have threatened my daughter, and I will protect her.  Ask the Red Court what that promise means.”  I let those words hang in the air, full of meaning and threats.  “This is my city, and I will protect it.  Ask anyone how far I’ve gone to keep it safe, and what happens to the people that threaten it.”  I let my blasting-saber dip until it nearly touches the pavement, which starts to send up wisps of smoke.  “The people who live here are my people, and I.  Will.  Protect.  Them.  Ask the Heirs of Kemmler and the Black Court what that oath means.”

      I don’t make any of this a challenge, or a brag, or something to piss them off.  These are all things that simply are.  They’re all true, like that the sun rises or that water is wet.  You can argue and try to ignore it all you want, but these things are, have been and always will be.  I am who I am, and I do what I do, no matter the mantle I wear, or what tries to change me.

      “So here’s what you’re going to do.  Tonight, I curse the name ‘Pack.’”  There’s another subtle pop in the air as those words gain meaning and permanence.  Words have power, and I invest a portion of my own self into those words.  “All those who live under it do so under pain of... Well, death is too nice.  Non-existence.  Erasure from history.  I will call in every favor, from the crater of Sunnydale to the Isle of Manhattan and every road of that cuts across this country.  You will cease to exist.  You will never be spoken of and you will never be remembered.  And you will all die bloody.”  I draw my gaze from one face to another, never letting off until they look away first.  They wouldn’t need to Soul Gaze me to know what is on my mind; it’s pretty damn apparent to any of them with half a clue.  “You will never run together again.  You will not do it under the name Pack, or any other name.  Because if I hear so much as a rumor that a group of creatures attacked an innocent person, you’re done.  You will be found, then you will be gone.  This right here is your only warning.  Any questions?”

      “And you,” I say to the ghoul.  I start walking forward, the cape billowing behind me, my blasting-saber burning a line in the ground.  I get right up to its face, and lean down towards its ear.  “I really, really hate fucking ghouls,” I whisper.  “And I know how hard your kind is to kill.  I have experience with that.  But you want to know something?”  

      I whip the blasting-saber down and take its hand off at the wrist.  We both look down at it in surprise.  I was expecting some burning, maybe a little cut, but not full blown lightsaber action.  I doubt it was expecting anything at all.  We both bring our eyes back up and I stare it down one more time.  “I have one more title for you: I was the Fire of Camp Kaboom. There was a message that was sent back with a survivor.  I told it ‘Never Again.’”  And I bring the blade flashing up in an arc and sear through its head with barely any resistance.  The head drops with a stunned look on its face as the body falls back into the hastily made space its friends make.

      “Never again.  Never again in my presence, in my city or to my people.”  I bring my gaze to each of them once again, but this time, nobody is too excited to look me in the eye.  “Do I need to repeat that to any of you?”  None of them reply. I snake out the blasting-saber again and take a chunk out of a rawhead and take out what looks to be a rugaru at the waist. That’s the sign they needed to break away and run, but not before I take a couple of slashes at their retreating asses.  I manage to down some; Mouse manages to run down another before it makes it to the mouth of the alley.  The ones I see escape split up.  When I step back onto the street, they’re long gone.

      Mouse and I take some time getting rid of the bodies, thanks to some creative uses of Ways and a few convenient garbage cans. The ghoul got some extra-special treatment, just like I promised.  I only realized how much time had actually passed when we finally caught up to Murphy and Maggie.  They’re less than a block away from the Carpenter’s home, with Karrin carrying an impressive haul of sugar filled goodness.  Even with all the best intentions, I still missed my first night of trick-or-treating with my daughter.  I try not to let my disappointment show as I lope up to them and ruffle Maggie’s hair.

      “Ha... Dad?  Are you okay?”

      “Yeah, I’m okay.  Just had to help Mouse clean up a mess.”

      “Your lightsaber is red.  Um... Isn’t red the color bad guys use in Star Wars?”

      “A lot of them do.  But remember the end of Return of the Jedi?”

      “We never finished it.  The Emperor... I don’t like what he says to Luke.”

      “He’s a pretty scary guy, and his threats are pretty serious.  But when he threatens Luke, Vader decides that his son is more important than his master.  He decides to fight against the Dark Side.”

      “So... Vader... becomes a good guy?”

      “It’s... complicated.  He did bad things, but family helped him so he could try to be good again.  He decided what to do, and that he didn’t want to follow the Emperor’s orders anymore.”

      “So, you’re like Darth Vader.”

      “... Yeah.  And the people I care about are helping me come back to the Light Side of the Force.  There’s going to be... bad things in my past, and there are going to be people who tell me what I have to be, but I decide whether that’s who I am.”

      “That’s... you’re kind of a cool guy.”

“Cooler than Han Solo?”

      “Well Mouse is cooler than Chewbacca, and he’s your partner.  So I guess that means you’re cooler than Han.”

I admit, it kills some of the cool vibes, but I squeeze Karrin on the shoulder and as she looks up at me, I stick out my tongue like I’m a kid.  I get an elbow in my hip in return, but it’s worth it.   I’ve never gone out trick-or-treating before tonight, so my expectations were pretty low.  But this was actually pretty fun.  And my daughter thinks I’m a cool dad.  Yeah.  That’s never going to go to my head.

      “Hey, Dad?”

      “Yeah, kiddo?”

      “Do you want to stay after we get back and watch Return of the Jedi?  If you’re there, I think I can make it past the Emperor this time.”

      “I’d love to, Maggie.”

      Murphy gives my hand a tug, and gives a nod of her head to let me know she wants to whisper something to me.  

      “I don’t know everything that happened, but you were pretty amazing tonight, Dresden.  And it’s your birthday.  There’s a Slave Leia costume I think we should break in later.”

      I love Halloween.

      “But you’re wearing it.”

      … Happy birthday to me.

[19mrs-barnes17]

The Move

Summary: You have moved in with your Aunt in Queens and are starting at a new school

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Part: 1/2

Warnings: anxiety?

Word count: 2,273

A/N: This is my submission for @beckzorz 1k writing challenge! Idk where this went lol, but, I had fun writing so enjoy! (Shoutout to @asphalt-cocktail for helping me out)

You were absolutely pissed. Why? Why do you even bother?

Your parents decided they were going to ship you off to Queens, instead of letting you get a job to help out so you could stay in Chicago. Now, you stood in front of  an apartment building, suitcase growing heavy in hand. There was dread in your heart.

Making friends isn’t easy when you have social anxiety. With friends you could switch from chatter box to complete silence fairly quick.  Sometimes within the same conversation. It was almost as if you had a social fuel tank and the more you socialized the more it depleted.

You’d have to explain yourself all over again, find a new lunch seat, and new places to belong. This made you anxious.

Nerves were spiking and your annoying 13 year old cousin, Alec, was not helping in the slightest. He was playing some game and shouting into his mic. You rolled your eyes as you unpacked, your room was right next door. Paper thin walls. Great.

“Dinner!” Aunt Clarissa hollered from the tiny kitchen. You were still unused to being cooked for, it was almost always you making your own meals. Chicken Alfredo to a cup of ramen. The result varied.

Dinner was quiet, fueled by awkwardness that you felt responsible for, and ended rather quickly. Alec was soon back on his game and Aunt Clarissa began to wash the dishes. You sat in silence, alone. This felt normal. But somehow with people in the room it became colder, more isolated.

Your first day began with a tour from Liz, who you assumed was that girl  everyone just knew. And then, lunch. Liz offered for you to sit with her and while you were grateful, it felt odd. It wasn’t where you belonged. They talked of homecoming and boys, while you doodled in one of your many sketchbooks. You were no mega talent, but, you had always had this itch to create something. Anything.

“That’s really good (Y/N). You should take art here.” Liz was leaning in to study your sketch of a table across the room, all you had so far was one boy. “You should talk to him.”

“What?” It was the first word apart from ‘hi’ that you had spoken all morning, and she seemed surprised. A small smile danced upon her lips.

You turned back to your sketch, filling in details and outlining the boy next to him so Liz wouldn’t think you were obsessed. When you could feel her eyes leave your work, your pencil gravitated back to detailing the first boy’s face. He had kind eyes. What Liz may or may not realize, was that they were on her and not you.

Class felt slow, introductions were not needed since it was second semester, and you were behind on all subjects. So much for relaxing this weekend. Thank  god you had Gym next, at least no homework could stem from that. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised.

Somehow the slow day was better. At least something was going on, now you sat a little apart from Liz’s group on the bleachers. You were currently doing your best to ignore their gossip until you heard a familiar name.

“Spider-Man? Isn’t that the guy who shoots webs?” Liz smiles, but her friends roll their eyes at your lack of knowledge.

“Yeah. He’s like our neighborhood’s personal  hero.”

“And Liz is totally in love with him.” Liz shoved her friend playfully as she laughed and confirmed the statement. The others began to throw questions at her and you started to tune out until a boy, one of the two you began sketching at lunch, shouted across the room.

“Peter knows Spider-Man!” His friend was quick to his feet, stammering over an explanation.

Now this, is interesting.

Peter, who was the only complete part of the sketch you had elected to move on from, tried to cover his friend’s mishap. It was clear he didn’t want anyone knowing about his internship with Stark Industries. You grew curious. Liz invited him and his ‘supposed’ hero friend to her party.

“Oh. And you’re welcome too (Y/N).”

Fuck.

You were the opposite of a party person. You were always in the corner on your phone, no one electing to talk to you. You were not a dancer and knew maybe four people there at least 90% of the time. But with her looking you straight in the eye so sweetly, you found yourself having trouble saying no.

“Yeah, sure. Text me the address and I’ll be there.”

Your Aunt was surprised that you had already had an invite to a party, but didn’t have a car to take you there. You were furiously texting Liz in your last class of the day while the teacher brought up the PowerPoint. 

Liz: Try asking Peter Parker.

You know the boy you were sketching at lunch?

I think he might live around your area.

Great. Now she was just enjoying matchmaking. You replied with a tongue sticking out emoji before pulling out a notebook and pen.

Peter’s locker was directly across from yours, but your nerves began spiking. How the hell do you just approach someone like this? What do you even say?

“Um, excuse me? You’re Peter right?” He was so distracted he nearly jumped at the sound of your voice behind him.

“Yeah. And… you’re, uh, (Y/N). Right?” He seemed to have the same nerves he had around Liz and you suspected he was the same with all the girls.

“Yup. Um, you’re going to Liz’s party right?” He nods. “Do you think I could tag along? My Aunt doesn’t own a car.”

“Oh, uh, sure. My Aunt May should be okay with that.”

“Cool. Uh, here’s my number and address. You’re a lifesaver.”  He slipped the paper in his pocket as you walked  away.

Over Your shoulder you shot him a small smile and a wave before heading to your bus. When he began to follow you nearly facepalmed, recalling that Liz said he lived by you. You sat in the empty second seat, right side of the bus, blocking the other half with your bag. Peter and his friend sat behind you. Your headphones were in, and the rest of the ride passed in a blur.

God certainly wasn’t short on humor.

Peter seemed equally shocked that you were both approaching the same lobby door, curious as to how you missed one another.

“I missed the bus this morning.” He stated, as if answering your thoughts. “May drove me.”

“Ah. Oh, Thanks.” You nodded and walked through the door he held open.

Outfits lay spread out on the bed, your mind doing calculations a mile a minute. Settling on black leggings and a Harry Potter t-shirt (Marauder’s Map), you began debating a jacket. When a knock sounded at the door you gave up and tied one around your waist, just in case.

Peter stood awkwardly in the living room/kitchen, your cousin bugging him relentlessly. He looked like a tomato. You chuckled at the sight.

“Is he your boyfriend? He won’t say anything but ‘um’. Is he why you moved here?” Now you were rendered speechless.

“I-uh. Oh Jesus, just go play your game, will ya?” You rushed Peter out the door, grateful  Alec lost interest. “Sorry about him.”

Peter shakes his head like its no big deal before glancing down at your shirt.

“My eyes are up here Parker.” His eyes widen and somehow turns a darker shade of red.

“I-I was just admiring your Marauder’s Map shirt.” You giggled at his frantic mumbling, shaking your head.

“Only kidding. Shall we?”

The ride is only quiet when Peter’s Aunt pauses or runs out of questions. She is an extrovert in every way and you wish some of that would rub off on you before you entered the party.

“May this was a mistake. Maybe we should just drop (Y/N) off and go home.” There was no way you were letting this kid ditch. If you were going, then at least you’d have company in that corner you always ended up in.

“He’s so stressed out lately.”

“What helps with stress is going to a party. So, we should go to the party.” Ned was anxious to get inside and he was the only one.

The three of you stood on the lawn, gazing at the already raging party within. You glanced at Peter and saw your own nervousness reflecting back at you.

“Not a party person?” Peter leaned over and whispered.

“Not even close. I'm terrible at saying no.”

Inside the noise was  pounding off the walls. Kids stood with actual red solo cups in hand like it was a teen movie.

Some kid was already picking on Peter and it's not even 2 minutes in.

“Hey. You're the new girl, right?” The stranger flickered a smirk  as you nodded. “I'm Flash.” His wink had you staring in disbelief. Why would you be interested in someone who literally just insulted a person right in front of everyone on a mic.

“And I'm, not interested. C’mon, let's go get a soda or something.” Peter and Ned did their best to hide smiles as they passed him by.

“That was great. Can you do that again cause I wanna sell tickets to that show.” A girl leaned against the wall, a small smirk on her lips. “I'm Michelle.”

“We could have a Ted Talk on how to not be an ass.”  You couldn't help but laugh with her at the thought. “I could do it in like two lines.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It would go something like ‘Don’t be a dick. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.’”  Peter nearly choked on his soda.

“You alright there Peter?” Liz appeared from around the corner, a look of confusion plastered on her face.

He smiles and nods, cheeks flushing. What a dork, you thought.

“Okay. Well... I'm glad you guys could make it. Have fun.” She was gone as quickly as she had arrived.

“I feel like my Ted Talks would have no chill though. I'm told I'm too open about topics that make people uncomfortable. Like periods and such.” Michelle glanced at you, smile growing.

“I think we'll get along just fine.”

It took you a few minutes to notice Peter and Ned had migrated toward the back door. You followed, sending Michelle a wave as you went. They became aware of your presence and their hushed mutterings ceased.

“Its okay if you leave us. Just so you know. You don't have to stuck around. We can find you later.” Peter didn't look you in the eye as he said this, instead opting to stare a hole in the floor.

“Oh.” That stung. You aren't sure why considering you hardly knew them. However, something had you feeling like this might've been your place. Ned. Peter. Michelle. You were a squad of misfits that seemed to piece together.

“He didn't mean it like that. You're more than welcome to hang with us.” Ned sent a sympathetic smile your way before leaning closer to whisper, loud enough that Peter could still  hear. “He’s just nervous.”

“What? Why? Cause of the party?” Ned shook his head and pointed at you. “Me? What did I do?”

Peter shook his head. He really was nervous. His hands were constantly on the move, in his hair or smoothing his clothes. His feet kept shifting his weight from one to the other.

“It's not something you did.”

“He just likes you.”

“Dude!”

“Is that true? Peter?” You felt bad because he clearly wanted to tell you himself. But, you couldn't help but smile at the fact that Peter had a crush on you.

Though you weren't quite friends, you could tell he was a good guy. You now knew the lovesick stares he had sent from across the room were directed at you, he had jumped at the opportunity to drive you, and personally came up to your apartment to escort you to the car.

“Peter…”

“I um…. I'm gonna get some air.” And just like that he disappeared out the back door.

You could see him pacing the yard, looking as though he was chastising himself. It was hard to contain your smile.

“I should go talk to him.”

“No. I'll talk to him. You enjoy the party Ned. Rock that hat with confidence.” He beamed as you stepped out into the yard and gave you a double thumbs up.

Peter's head whipped around at the sound of the door, face flushed.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Your voice was small. Now you were the nervous one. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Liar.” He chuckles at this. A smile dances on each of your faces. “Is it true?”

Gulp. He nods.

“Peter…”

“Its okay. I get it. You don't feel the same. It's not like we've been friends for years. We're strangers.”

“Not for long.”

“What?”

“Well, Ned basically invited me into your friend group. So I'm not going anywhere. Because, for the record, I think you're a great guy. Also, I expect a seat at your table. Yeah?” Peter's smile widens at the prospect.

“Really?” You nod.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me Parker.”

“I think I'll live.”

Something, whether it be adrenaline or courage,  gives you the strength to grab his hand and lead him back to the party. Or more specifically, the dance floor.

This was only the start. Maybe the move wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[ourheroictommo]

Harries worse than larries? Please stop with the embarrassment I know you’re upset some of them come for Louis but they’ll never be on the same level as larries

Even larries hadn’t sunk as low as to shit of Louis for his Guardian interview - an interview, where he yet again denies larry and calls them out. And yet they don’t harass him because of it.

While harries, instead of, I don’t know - concentrating on their own fave and the content he gives them - are obsessively following Louis’ update accounts, tracking his every movement, monitoring every his tweet, every follow, every word he says in order to find something - anything - they could use as the reason to claim he’s ‘the worst person ever’ (just like larries do with Eleanor - surprising, huh?). And hurray! In the midst of a huge interview, where Louis opened up about dealing with his mother’s and his sister’s death, about grieving and struggling and still not losing a positive outlook on the life, about using his songs to help other people dealing with the same pain, about not wanting anyone to feel sorry about him, about his struggles to find his place after 1d, about his friends and family keeping him grounded, about changing his outlook on the definition of success - and about being proud of his former bandmates (which includes Harry too!), - in the midst of this interview where Louis opened up like never before and talked about such important and personal topics, these uglies found one tiny throwaway remark about gucci clothes, which they now use to harass Louis to the moon and back.

Like if you read this interview, and the only thing you took from it is that gucci remark, you really have no heart, no comparison, no feeling and no morality whatsoever. That’s just what it is.

If anything, that just proves all over again how different Louis is from Harry (which we know for years). It’s the same when he talked during tou promo how ‘his mates would terrorize him if he ever used “fancy face masks” or some other skincare stuff’. It’s not that deep, and it’s not a ‘shade on Harry’, because - surprise - Harry isn’t the center of the universe, and Louis life doesn’t revolve around him! 

You know what’s the tea? Harries (and Harry) don’t have any reason to hate Louis, while Louis and we as his fans have plenty of reasons to be bitter about Harry or ‘throw shade on him’ - because of larry which affected Louis way more than Harry; because of the fact that it’s Louis who always gets asked about it; because it was Harry who suggested the hiatus just when Louis ‘was getting to be a better songwriter, singer, a more confident performer, and all of a sudden, when I felt I was finally getting some momentum …’; because of all these shitty tabloids, ‘journalists’ and stans saying that ‘Oh, Harry A and B will do well, but the rest of the lads, they’re not going to do anything.’; because Louis himself sees that shit; heck - even because in the very same Guardian article which is supposed to be about Louis and Louis only - his achievements, his solo career and his music - there’s still a line about  ‘Styles becoming quite the superstar’ (why the hell did they even include that line? it’s completely unnecessary).

I as a fan of Louis have more reason to be bitter about Harry than all these harries combined have about Louis. But guess what? I am not. Because Louis himself doesn’t! He doesn’t hold any resentment towards Harry, so neither do I. But as long as harries keep behaving in the atrocious way they behave now, I will keep calling their shit out.