#thank you angel for letting me borrow her i love her

[ahollowgrave]

-- brunch gossip. (feat. the absolutely stunning and charming Manx from @thefreelanceangel!)

Some bonus shots where I was playing with angles !!

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul _ Part 5 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 (here)

How you had such a depressing life was beyond Alastor. He didn’t understand it. Can’t comprehend it! But he pushed these questions back to tend to your sadden mood, tucking you in and lulling you to sleep

Alastor sat next to your sleeping form, the room pitch black save for his glowing red eyes that pierced through the darkness. His staff played soft music to calm you down and fill the silence of the room. The only tears you should be shredding are ones of joy and happiness 

The people you’ve mentioned, surely they were in Hell as well. They can’t be in Heaven for causing you such torment. He can’t let you see them, any of them. He needs to get to them first. However, for now, he can’t leave you alone in such a state

His eyes closed as he thought out how he’d torture them. Perhaps skinning them till they beg for mercy and your forgiveness? Pulling out their limbs and draining their blood? Letting the cannibals partake in a feast? No, no, he had to enjoy this. They were your tormentors when you were alive, he’ll show you that he can and will be your protector, even a guarddog if he must

But his heinous thoughts were put to a hold when you shifted in your sleep. He pushed away his thoughts while he watched your serene form rest. He put away his monocle, laying beside you and gently pull you closer to him so he was hugging you to his chest. His eyes drooped close. Perhaps he should let those unfortunate souls enjoy Hell a bit longer. If they crossed his path or yours, their voice will be on his everlasting broadcast

When things got slow for you, you found yourself hanging out with the hotel residents at times. They were an interesting bunch to say the least

Charlie was always happy to see you and would invite you on her little activities and exercises to redeem sinners. Though you’d mostly decline unless it catches your interest in some way. On the rare chance you join, she was very appreciative of your presence and wasn’t shy to thank you for joining in front of everyone. Her cheerful attitude was a bit of a hit and miss for you

There was one exercise that got you sharing something you’ve almost forgot

“Okay! Last two to share! Who’s going first?” Charlie beamed

“I’ll go first, My Darling needs all the time to recall!” Alastor directed the attention to him. “My joy in my hay day is my murders. Oh how I felt the rush when chasing my victims, hunting them like prey in the woods. The warmth of their body fading the moment I repeated stabbed my trusty blade into their weak bodies. The—”

“Okay, okay, you can shut it with the creepy killing. Sheesh.” Vaggie interrupted with a groan. She turned to you who was still in a daze, completely unfazed with what Alastor said. “You ready to go?”

“Huh? Oh, okay.” You snapped out of your daydream, unconsciously, your hand patted on your book that was strapped to your hip. “My joy when I was alive… I barely remember it, but I loved going to the library and read all the books I can.”

“That’s surprisingly cute considering you’re with that freaky smil—” Angel’s mouth was immediately shut with the slap of Alastor’s staff

You continued without flinching, this was all a normal banter between the two already now that you were hanging out with the crew more. “I frequent the library, borrowing and finishing a stack of books everyday. The librarian would recommend me new books or save me my favourite corner. I can even eat and drink in the library just because.”

Charlie’s head tilted, “So you love reading.”

“Not just reading. I love books of all kinds. Sometimes I rad that book just cause I liked the texture or the shape of it. I collect books and keep it like treasures. I hate lending books to other because they don’t care for it like I do.” You fondly smiled at the memory, “Then I got a bunch of notebooks too, because I love the design or the cover.”

Lucifer leaned back into his chair, “No wonder your powers are centered around books.”

“Better call you bookworm now! Hahahaa—” Angel was hit by two cranes, one from Alastor and another from Lucifer. Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk flinched with a face twisted to pain as if they felt that. Niffty was living in the moment, wanting one too

Husk gulped some alcohol, “You better shut that loud mouth of yours if you know what’s good for you.”

Everyone laughed and chuckled, Charlie concluding that it was a good exercise and bonding time since everyone was in attendance. Alastor got up and offered you his hand, bringing you two back to your room. You stayed out of it, being in a daze again

When Alastor asked if you were fine, you smiled and said you were fine, if you needed anything, he would be the first you’d call for. So he left you alone

You didn’t tell them. You were that absorbed into reading that you didn’t realize you were being bullied, you were used. You shared your dream of wanting to be a writer that people would love to read what you wrote and share it with friends, to entertain others. You shared your ideas with your friend but your ideas were stolen from you

The moment you handed in your writing, the publishing company said they had one already and that yours was not up-to-date. They rejected your writing. Days later, you saw the newest novel on sell. The title was so similar to yours that you checked the summary at the back. That was your story idea. But your work was rejected so how was it published?

Your nightmare came to life. A betrayal so painful and chilling. Your friend’s name was on the cover. You remember your hands shaking. It wasn’t rage you felt, it was disbelief and sadness. The trust you gave, the care you gave, and the attention you gave. It was all to stab you in the back

You watched from behind the screens at the achievement and success that should have been yours. All of it, it should have been yours to smile upon. But then you were crying and shutting yourself behind the world of fantasy, an escape from reality

Why? Why? Why!

Closing your eyes for a moment, you locked up those memories. They don’t mean much to you now. Not when you had Alastor with you and an unlikely friendship with Lucifer the King of Hell himself, then there was the silly demons of this hotel. Ironic how you found true friends in demons

That’s why when you saw Mimzy again in the hotel, you were skeptical and burning with rage. She had someone as amazing and caring as Alastor to call as a friend, but she’s abusing it without a care. How she has the guts to come back and ask for Alastor, you have no idea, though you’ve seen her kind when you were alive

“You’re a new soul!” Mimzy’s voice made you want to throw glass or grip something until it broke. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“What do you want?” You eyed down at Mimzy with a bored expression

She let out a sound akin to ‘uww’ with a face of disgust. “You’re never gonna get your lucky someone with that attitude.”

Your eye twitched, “I never said I was.”

Mimzy gave you a fake shocked look, “Really? I thought you were going for Alastor!”

You groaned, heading over to the bar to ask Husk for something to drink (not alcohol) because you didn’t want this annoyance to follow you to your room

“Hey,” Mimzy sat next to you without asking, “You know what Alastor’s like when he’s upstairs?”

You ignored her, but your face of silent rage was enough to get her to continue

“You don’t know. He’s a realy lady’s killer! Not literally, but you get what I mean. Girls and ladies throw themselves at him and he doesn’t even bat them an eye. A nice wave and a dashing smile, then he leaves them high and dry! Oh, the broken hearts he had was definitely more than his body count and that’s something!” Mimzy laughed at the end

What’s that got to do with you? You thought to yourself as you aggressive sipped on your drink. Husk eyed you two while cleaning some glass to appear like he was busy. You’ll maybe admit, you were a bit envious of Mimzy that she got to see Alastor when he was alive, you wonder how he looked. Not like you were going to ask

Mimzy endlessly talked bad about Alastor behind his back. What happened to trying to apologise and wanting to make up? No idea, down the drain at this point. As the others around you wonder why you were still humouring the chatty demon, you were wondering the same. Why are you just sitting here and listening to all this?

“You should shut it, can’t you see you’re the only one talking here?” Husk spoke up, indirectly telling Mimzy to just leave you alone

“Aww, and you should do your job, bar cat.” Mimzy teased back. “I’m given this poor soul some attention cause Alastor’s too high of a standard to give some.”

“Ha! Jokes on you. This hot stu— I mean, cutie here’s always got smile’s attention.” Angel inserted himself into the conversation, climbing over the bar to stand next to Husk

You got up, “This is a waste of time.”

Mimzy faked another gasp, “No way. You poor poor thing. You actually fell for him of all people of this hellhole?” She got so close in your face and not to mention your personal space, “I understand why, but! Ha! That’s just bad luck! You’re bound to get your heart broken like all those poor ladies before you.”

Before you said anything, Husk’s wing separated Mimzy from you, “You really need to shut the hell up before you regret it.”

“You shut it fur ball! I ain’t talkin’ to you.” Mimzy snapped at Husk

Deciding that it was not worth your time, you started walking away. This was drama you didn’t want to be involved in and you didn’t want Alastor catching this happening since he sees Mimzy as a friend still

“The hotel won’t allow this.” Charlie tried to establish order and break things off

“Alastor will leave you in the dirt worse than whatever you were before once he’s had his fun with you! You might think you’re on cloud 9 now, but you’re going to be in a world of pain and hurt soon enough.” Mimzy continued, completely ignoring Charlie and Husk’s words

With each step you took, she continued as if singing a song, “Alastor only like things that entertains him. He never commits. He never cares. He doesn’t even have a heart to care! He’s so powerful because he has no room for ridicious things like love. The love he has is only for himself. Alastor is just a selfish heartless motherf—”

“Shut up!” You turned to her, a deep scowl on your face

“This is gonna be good.” Lucifer whispered to the others watching, “But bad for her. Yeah.”

“Shut you annoying f- mouth.” You snapped, unaware that your hair leviated a bit from your rage. “You don’t know how lucky you are to have a friend like Alastor. Alive and dead. But what do you do? You use Alastor’s name just for the fun of it and for your benefit. You just use it! How can you use your friendship with him like this! What’s wrong with your stupid tiny head?! In Hell, you’re supposed to treasure what you have. Not abuse it.”

Mimzy scoffed, “You think you’re so good? So righteous. Well, you would have been up there, now wouldn’t you. Don’t think you’re any better.” She smirked, “In Hell, we use everything and anything to our advantage.” Another gasp came and she covered her mouth, “Oh wait, could it be?” She got close to you, “Haha, you being so defensive and triggered by all this. You really actually did fall for him.”

“I love him.”

“Wait? Couldn’t hear you, sugar—”

“I love Alastor.” You repeated firmly and loudly

“What was that?”

Getting annoyed, you turned to the direction where the question came from. Perhaps it was all this anger in your system that made you slow to realize, “I said,” That you were now face to face with Alastor. “I love you!”

Note: This part's major focus has been mentioned in an ask already. And since it's confirmed that you and Alastor are dating in the latest asks and requests, I'm putting this scene in more detail since asks are trivia for the story

P.S. There's something new planned for future chapters~ Remember that lover and friend mentioned? OCs might be appearing cause I can't do rando short forms. Still thinking... You're thoughts? Or should I just end this series?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

@nevermore-ramblings 

@justboredforreal 

@youroneandonlysimp 

@falsemain

@scenteddelusion5

@anni1600

@readergirlstuff

@salutations-demonsanddappers

@mistpurpl3

@haruskrd

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@speedycoffeedelight

@wendds

@paninibit

[moonstruckme]

Hi! Could I request a plus size!reader with James? Maybe where she gets upset because she can’t wear his clothes and she can’t do cute little girlfriend things like him picking her up and stuff like that?

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: size insecurity

modern au ig because new girl

James Potter x plus size!reader ♡ 956 words

“I’m kind of thinking of jumping back to season four,” you call towards the bedroom. “Jess is about to leave for jury duty, and I don’t like those episodes as much.” 

“Pretty sure you’ve got them all memorized anyway,” James says back. “Why don’t we just watch Friends instead?” 

Your mouth twists even though he can’t see it, but luckily, the feeling behind the expression carries in your voice anyway. “Because it’s not as good.” 

“Okay.” James rolls his eyes lightly as he emerges from your bedroom, now clad in pajamas to match you. “We can do New Girl again, but I need my pillow, please.” 

You sigh heavily, feigning reluctance as you uncurl your legs from underneath you and prop your feet on the coffee table. James hurries over, sprawling out on the couch and settling his head on the cushion of your thighs. He’s due for a haircut. His thick curls spread out around him like the sun’s rays. He smiles up at you, dopey, and you tamp down a grin as you start the episode. 

Not ten minutes in, there’s a flashback about when one character was in college. Bigger, dorkier, romantically inept. It’s played for a laugh. You glance down at James. He’s wormed a hand under your leg and is kneading the fat there like putty. It’s an absentminded gesture, nothing critical about it, but you wonder if he’s correlating you with the actor on screen, bumbling and the butt of the joke in his fatsuit. 

You comb a hand through James’ hair, and he looks up, catches you watching him. He’s never been one to mind being observed. He shoots you a smile, catching your hand with his other and pressing it to his lips. 

You smile back. “Do you ever wish you had a skinny girlfriend?” you ask him. 

If he’s surprised by the abruptness of the question, he doesn’t show it. “Nope,” he answers. “Never. What would I do for a pillow?” 

You consciously keep your smile in place, fixing your eyes back on the screen. The one character is telling the story of how embarrassing it was to lose his virginity. Like sex was borderline impossible, just because he was chubby. 

You feel James’ head shift on your legs, and look down to find he’s turned towards you. “We manage just fine,” he whispers conspiratorially. 

You exhale amusedly through your nose. “Yeah? I don’t near crush you every time?” 

“It’s really cute that you think you could, lovie.” 

You roll your eyes, letting them land on the TV. “Sometimes I wish I could do more…quintessential girlfriend stuff.” You can feel James’ eyes on you, but he keeps quiet. “Like when girls steal their boyfriend’s hoodies and stuff.” 

You look down, and James’ eyebrows have lowered slightly. “You could borrow my hoodies if you wanted to,” he says. “Angel, you know I think you’re the perfect size, don’t you? Do I not tell you that enough?” 

You give him a little smile, shoulders coming up bashfully. (He does. He makes little comments all day long—how pretty you look, how he loves your thighs, how soft and warm you are when you’re cuddling, how lovely and squishable your ass is in his hands.) “It’s not you,” you say, “it’s just hard not to think about those girls who, like, drown in their boyfriends’ clothes, you know? And your stuff fits almost tight on me.” 

James looks at you considerately, nodding. You and he aren’t vastly different sizes, with James’ bulky frame and wide shoulders. You just…he treats you like you’re precious, but sometimes you wish you looked precious standing next to him, too. You wish he could pick you up with one arm or make jokes about you being tiny like a chihuahua or whatever else it is the boyfriends of petite girls do. 

“I realize this is rather selfish,” James says, “but I actually quite enjoy that I’m able to borrow your clothes from time to time.” He glances pointedly down at his shirt, which you now realize has been pilfered from your wardrobe. “And if it’s baggy clothes you’re looking for, I could always get a couple loose-fitting hoodies, wear them around and get ‘em all smelled up, and then pass them on to you.” You must look about as lovesick as you feel, because his smile returns, brown eyes sweetly knowing. “Does that sound like something you’d like?”

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip to keep from beaming too embarrassingly. “Yes, please. Thanks, Jamie.” 

“Course.” He gives your thigh a hearty squeeze, turning his head to press a wet smooch to your skin. “You know, those other girls are missing out on things, too,” he says. “I doubt their boyfriends spend so much time lounging on them, and I know how much you love it when I make your legs fall asleep.” 

You snicker. “You’re right, I do love that.” 

James’ smile spreads wider at your response. “I know you do, lovie. All for you, of course. Also, I know it’s not a hoodie, but I have that one red jumper that’s pretty big on me. You know the one?” 

“Oh my gosh, yes!” You sit up straighter. “I totally forgot about that. Could I use it?” 

“What’s mine is yours.” 

“Thanks.” You scoot out from under him, and James sits up, upset. 

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going? I was comfy!” 

“To change,” you call back from halfway down the hall. 

“Never change, angel!” You roll your eyes at the stupid joke, grinning to yourself. “I love you just the way you are!” 

[sinstear]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “we fell in love in October”

Abby genuinely doesn’t understand how she hadn’t disintegrated or burst into flames on your first date. She was nervous, finding it so hard to focus on what you were saying when her eyes were more focused on the way your lips moved, and the way the gloss sparkled when all she wanted to do was kiss you under the dim light of the restaurant. You had talked to her about your interests and disinterests with such softness that even when she did finally hear what you were saying and wasn’t too focused on how your lips would feel against hers, she noticed the small things. The way you would move your hands around when talking or explaining, how you would tilt your head to the side, your hand covering your mouth when you giggle about a distant memory you were sharing. Or even how you throw your head back, and let out the most beautiful laugh she’s ever heard when you quickly remember something funny that happened to you when you were just a reckless teenager.

Even if she was nervous then, Abby still loved to see you happy and smiling. It took her so many times to agree to you taking her on a date. Not because she didn’t want you to, but because she was so in awe of you, and how pretty you were, and she was always stumped on how someone like you, so carefree, so full of so much hope and happiness, would ever think of her in the way she thinks of you. To put it easily, you were just as nervous as she was, always wondering if you had said too much, or said too little when you’d spot her walking around bookcase after bookcase of the library at 11pm. Would she mind if you had sat beside her? Would the broad-shouldered blonde care if you made a comment or recommendation on a book you had found her reading? Would she get irritated with the way you would sometimes read what you were reading, aloud? Would Abby ever—

“What’s got you thinking so hard?”

The rasp of her voice brings you back to reality where you find her, sitting in the chair opposite you, head buried in her current read, an eyebrow raised. A sign all her attention was on you, but still in her book. The sweater she was wearing, fitted her perfectly. “Just thinking about when i fell in love with you” You replied truthfully, looking back at your own book, bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you tried hiding your smile at the way her eyebrows shot up.

“Oh yeah? When did you finally realize you were so head over heels for me, sweet girl?”

“I remember the storm . . the one at the beginning of October last year? do you remember? i was stuck here, and you stole my number from a friend, just to tell me to not leave in case i got stuck out in it, or ended up getting hurt. And you drove 4 hours just to bring me a hot chocolate because you somehow knew they calmed me down with the loud sounds. You drove for 4 hours, in a storm we were told not to be out in, just to bring me a fucking drink. Then a few days later, i came here again to find you, to thank you for risking your life to make sure i was safe, and you were sat right there— at the table by the window, to be precise. You were wearing one of your old, as you know i like to call them, grandpa sweaters with your cute Harry Potter glasses and you came up to me before i could and you asked if i had a Library card because you were new around here and didn’t have your own yet”

How could she forget that day? For her, it was embarrassing and borderline exhausting rushing around, having to borrow someone else’s card to simply read a goddamn book. It felt easier when she spotted you again though. Unaware that you were waiting for her to turn up. Curled up on the couch, your jacket covering your slightly shivering body from the cold weather, and a cup of whatever hot beverage you had decided to buy at the café that morning, and a book, one she can’t remember because you read so many she can’t keep up, in your hands. You looked like an angel in her eyes. You always have.

“I would risk my life any day just so i know you are safe, no matter what” She admitted softly, book long forgotten as she smiled at you. “I was in love with you for a long time, you just made me extremely nervous. I asked your friend for your number in hopes it would make me feel less nervous but it didn’t. Everything about you is so perfect that i felt like i wouldn’t have a chance? But when the storm happened . . i didn’t want you to be alone, i never want you to be or feel alone”

“With you, I never feel alone Abs”

[the-artist-grimm]

Hi, I have just discovered your AU and I like the design, also the name made curious about what's the AU about

(Note this Lore Post is HIGHLY Outdated!!!! See the masterpost for current lore!)

Thank you! And for the ‘Crimson Angel AU’ think of it as translating to ‘Blood-Soaked Angel AU’, since I think that’s more of a better visual/description, but crimson just sounds prettier for an actual title.  This is gonna be a little long for more-in-depth lore dump so see the READ MORE for well, more! And my apologies for the rambles that have slowly taken over my brain, it's a little chaotic but the basic gist of it XD

(Note Anthea goes by she/they and I alternate between the two so if that causes reading issues let me know)

In this case, the ‘Blood-Soaked Angel’ is my lamb, Anthea, who starts off the story as being a seemingly kind, friendly, and optimistic person just wanting to help, but is really just someone who is trying to understand why they lived when their family and people did not, and just going with self-sacrifice and self-destruction as the only way to ‘prove’ they deserved to live. 

Got a mini backstory comic here with some explanations, though TLDR Anthea already had this sense of being responsible for keeping everyone else’s spirits up after losing their father, and when heretics destroyed the rest of their family/village at age 12 and they survived by the shear luck of just being out on a routine supply run, they feel as if they don’t deserve it. 

From there Anthea bottled everything up and wandered the forests for a bit until being found and taken in by Ratau, who taught her not only how to fight but also told her stories of his time as vessel, of which any involving The One Who Waits were the most interesting. A lonely, bitter, and kinda angry god of death, despite  his appearance, kept and appeared to care for the two young kits by his side. TOWW sounded different from the other bishops Anthea had only ever known to be violent, and thus she began to worship him as a sort of comfort-since thinking a gentler god greeted her family and would one day greet her was a better thought than the horror they must’ve faced prior to death. She lived day to day just pretending everything was fine, being a good kid, and helping out around the shack, while internally treating every moment like borrowed time, thinking she had to keep being useful to everyone else. (Ratau knew she had people-pleasing issues but didn’t realize the extent for a long, long time) 

Cut to Anthea being 26, and after she and Ratau were heading back one afternoon after some errand or visit were ambushed by heretics who managed to injure Ratau when they tried to escape, and though they got away, they were pursued. Thinking she’d lived on borrowed time long enough and wanting to prevent another person she loved from dying, Anthea took advantage of Ratau’s injury keeping him from stopping her and drew the heretics away, being captured as a result. 

Bishops, execution, Anthea gets the shock of hearing that they’re the final lamb prior to sacrifice, then suddenly they’re waking up in the gateway to the god they’ve worshiped for years, and he’s just as Ratau described. A lonely, bitter god with two young kits (I place Aym and Baal as teens since it leads to some interesting moments), by his side. Yet where that’s all Ratau saw, Anthea also saw the chains. The wounds bleeding an endless stream of ichor. The way TOWW struggled prior to their approach, how his voice and smile were strained. This god they’d built up as this better to the bishops is trapped and painfully so, and when offered the chance to help him, Anthea jumps at it. They must’ve lived for SOMETHING, must be the last for some greater purpose because there were so many other lambs who ‘deserved’ to live more, so if it’s for this prophecy then so be it. 

Game plays out, Anthea begins to see past the bitterness/anger Nariender puts up to see someone genuinely hurt by those he cared about and struggling to trust after while also seeing he’s not exactly perfect, whilst Nariender in turn starts to call Anthea out on the whole self-sacrificial stick as them just trying to die to make themself feel better instead of just facing the fact that they lived, others died, and that’s all there is to say. Slowly the two become friends, got an idea for example that Anthea starts to use the crown to show Nariender what he’s missed in the world as a means of comforting him/helping him remember not all was as bad as he recalls (aka they’re unintentional dates lol), Anthea also starts befriending the twins since they remind them of their own brothers which gains more Nariender friendship points at someone making his kids happy, and that friendship slowly turns to a genuine love from both sides. 

Anthea plans to keep her feelings hidden until after Narinder’s free, though secretly starts to work on an engagement present to confess by leaving the crown at the temple and going to the Lonely Shack at night. (the engagement also meant to be a symbolic ‘hey you don’t have to feel the same but just know I’ll be with you from now on I won’t leave you’). Is also Anthea finally taking steps to live life for herself and move on to something that makes her happy. Meanwhile Narinder has no idea what these feelings he’s having are-just that this weirdly kind, cheerful, but also melancholic and frustratingly self-sacrificial lamb makes his heart race, and is now for some reason being a little distant. He’s been trying to figure out how to return to the world above without sacrificing Anthea, but now has whatever this is distracting him, and thus has the crown follow one night, only hears part of Anthea discussing/being teased about planning a proposal but not who said proposal is for, and being unused to jealousy but very used to being cast aside and betrayed gets angry/scared/heartbroken and decides to just go through with the sacrifice anyway since it’s easier than trying to figure out why he’s feeling like this. 

Endgame battle hits, during which Anthea feels very confused/hurt by his order to sacrifice themself, as just the other day here was their dearest friend lightly scolding them for willingly dying just to visit. They try to reason with him and Narinder doesn’t want to hear it, so he orders the twins to fight Anthea which neither are willing but are forced, and Anthea has no choice but to kill both since Nariender refuses to hear reason. The anger, grief, guilt, and heartbreak they’ve bottled up finally boils over as red wings appear on their back like they briefly do in-game when the lamb refuses (this all started when I saw the scene in-game and thought the visual/symbolism was really cool), and they fight and defeat Nariender. 

When back at the compound Nariender’s just lashing out and cursing Anthea on the dais because he’s angry and hurt at her betraying him until Anthea just calmly tells him why he was spared-she loved him. Nariender finally looks at her and is hit with the realization that this lamb who’d always looked at him so warmly with adoration is now giving him the most blank, lifeless expression as she tells him he’s free to do as he pleases before leaving. And he now realizes that because he didn’t stop and think things through and instead let anger take the focus he completely neglected to realize that here was someone who loved him-who loved him even as they learned of his faults, saw his lowest, ect, and he just threw it all away over a misunderstanding he could've EASILY just asked about. He even sacrificed his guards (read sons) just because that was somehow easier than talking. Which begs the question, who else loved him? Who else did he miss? Was his imprisonment really all on the bishops, or was he also to blame? Whilst Anthea’s now stuck with a godhood she didn’t want, two more loved ones dead, and a broken heart. 

The two gotta learn where to go from here, the now blood-soaked ‘angel’ who’s begun to realize just how much giving pieces of yourself hurts, and a fallen god who’s begun to realize things aren’t as black and white as he thought. They get better! Eventually...

Might try making a fic, might just keep this as drabbles and rambles along with art, but right now I’m having fun making fanart/aus for the first time instead of just watching from the sidelines, so I hope you enjoy the ride. But for now enjoy some angsty doodles :D

[inside-lees-mind]

Anything with Lee with a super masc female s/o 🙏🙏 she has a wolfcut/short hair, has tattoos, peircings and dresses in baggy men’s clothes (she’s super nice tho). Maybe how Lee is with her and how the other Konoha 11 react to it? Maybeee some nsfw too if she’s a dom?? Love your writing!

Rock Lee with a Super Masc Fem! S/O

Thank you for the request!

NSFW at the bottom!

When this boy decides he likes you, that’s final. He likes you.

So when he saw you, doesn’t matter what everybody else thinks. If they love you, great! If they don’t, he does!

Sooooo even if some might judge your appearance or not be interested, Lee certainly doesn’t. He’d rather just compliment everything about you. Everything.

At first, depending on how you two meet, you might be a little startled. He declared his “love” for you right away.

And you were shocked, maybe even alarmed.

He’s fascinated by your piercings. He wants to know where you got them! How many do you have?? Did they hurt??

Luckily for him, you’re not as mean to him as Sakura was by any means! In fact, you’re really nice, even if you don’t agree to be his partner immediately.

When he notices your tattoos, he’s also asking how many you have of those and what they mean to you.

Let’s say it takes a little bit, but you give bushy brows a chance. (He deserves a chance fr)

So now let’s say the two of you have been going out for a while.

If your clothes are baggy, trust me, he wants to borrow them. He’ll be the bf wearing his partner’s clothes ANYDAY. Give him your hoodie, or hell, your jeans. He’ll wear them.

If you’ve been together for a long time, he starts talking about wanting matching tattoos. (That’d be his first tattoo)

He constantly tells you how your short/wolf cut hair frames your face SO well. Even far into the relationship, he’s constantly complimenting your hair, your piercings, your face, your strength, and how nice you are too.

Even if you were mean, he probably would have called you an angel anyways. But he appreciates just how sweet you are to him.

NSFW

He’s down bad for you. No joke.

I can see him being the type to just come home, had a long day, and does he want to wet his dick? No. No he begs you to sit on his face.

If y’all have ever seen Rock Lee and his Ninja Pals, you’d know that Lee is kind of a perv….

So trust, he’s been thinking about this all day. Once this boy gets a taste, there is no turning back.

After all, you taste so good he could cum in his pants before he ever gets them off just from eating you out.

He whimpers. Next question.

It doesn’t take much to ride him into a blabbering, panting mess. He’s got so much stamina, but so little restraint and tolerance. He’s a MESS.

He’s very submissive with you.

I think he’d try to be in charge a few times, but it’s hard to be in charge when you just can’t handle small touches without shuddering and begging for more.

He’d just forget he’s supposed to be in charge, so it’s best to just stay in charge of things yourself.

If you’re like into like domming him, I could see him being a bit of a brat from time to time. Like how he purposely PLANS to use forbidden jutsu in the past, knowing the consequences. He’d be a brat on purpose, then take his punishment politely.

He’s got a high libido.

And like I said, a bit more silently a perv. Respectfully, in comparison to other guys. But this leads to him being willing to go for quickies in semi-public places like the bathroom or something if you’re willing.

I always think he’d look so pretty if he was overstimulated or denied his orgasm too many times. He’d beg to cum, or beg you to stop because he just can’t take it. He’s shaking at this point.

You two would need a safe word or color system (or both) because he cries for you to stop, but he doesn’t mean it so in order to know that, you’ll need the safe word to be a thing.

Sometimes, if you dom, he’ll act like a brat and punish himself pretty much immediately by saying he must make you cum as many times as you ask. Then tells you to give him a number. (Be realistic for your own body because he WILL follow through 😀)

Some of that nsfw was a little outta pocket. Sorry yall. I’m in love with this man. 😭

[ravennaortiz]

Apples,Flannel and Love

Summary: Apple picking date with Angel takes a twist! As always 18+

“Well don’t you two look like a couple of adorable farmers” snickered EZ as he watched you walk into the clubhouse house in jeans, boots and a red and black flannel shirt tied in the front. “Shut up” laughed Angel as he stood up in his matching outfit as he made his way to you. Greeting you with a long kiss that had wolf whistles and whoops coming from the guys.

“Thanks for paying for my nails baby” you murmured in his ear as you lightly raked them down his neck making him shiver. “I can’t wait to use them later” you added with a wink when you pulled back. Angel swallowed hard as he felt himself harden some at the imagery your words evoked.

“What design did you get?” he inquired as he took your hand and led you out of the clubhouse and to the truck he had borrowed from his pops. “Apples for our apple picking date of course” you giggled as you wiggled them in his face for him to see. “They look beautiful Corazon” stated Angel as he held your door open and helped you in before moving around to the driver’s side door.

A couple of hours and several glasses of spiked apple cider later the two of you were trolling hand in hand through the orchard. Giggling as the two of you joked around, picking the best apples for the pies, butters and jams you were planning on making. Angel had never felt more in love than he had in this moment. What the two of you had he had never experienced with anyone else before. A flash of light up ahead and the vibration on his phone let him know EZ, Coco and Gilly were in position. Stopping in his tracks he let your hand go as he set the basket overflowing with apples down and pretended to fix his boot buckle.

“Hurry up slow poke” you teased as you glanced over your shoulder to see what had stopped him only to gasp. The sight of Angel kneeling behind you with a huge beaming smile as he held an open ring box out to you had tears in your eyes. You were nodding before he even had a chance to ask the question. “Geez didn’t even let me get my part out” joked Angel as he slipped the ring on your finger before kissing your hand. “I love you”

“I love you too” you whispered as you bent down to kiss him.

“Got a good shot of her ass too” you heard Coco call from behind you followed by more snaps of a camera that had you snorting in laughter against Angels lips as he sighed. “I’m sorry they are part of the package  Corazon” he murmured as the two of you stood up and turned to where the three were standing clapping and snapping more photos.

[bungeo-ppangie]

23:52 // training

ღ pairing. bf!idol!riki x trainee!gn!reader

ღ contents. romance, fluff, lil bit angst?

ღ synopsis. you've been training for the past few hours on fever's choreography, and all you wanted to do was strangle both your coach and riki(actually innocent but his group so his fault). but what do you get? teased by riki. and more practice. of course.

﹒⪩⪨﹒scene below cut

"fluidly, yn! why are your transitions so powerful? start over!" your dance coach reprimanded, giving you a frustrated sigh before pressing down on the replay button to start you over again. even though you were well-known as the undisputed best at dancing during evaluations, the dance coach somehow always found more issues with you than anyone else- even newbies weren't forced to stay as many extra hours in the practice room as you.

you inwardly groaned as you heard the opening chords of fever again, quickly changing to the starting position. if you had asked anyone else, they would have told you it was perfect- no revisions needed. however, it seemed like you would be stuck here for quite a while yet, judging by the deteriorating attitude of the coach. you loved riki, but at the moment, you were really wishing he made the choreography easier to master. dancing was fun and all, but you just hoped you could rest soon.

as if god had heard your prayers, riki burst into the room as the first pre-chorus began, startling your coach.

"sorry coach, i just need to borrow yn here. manager approved my request to personally train her for dance for a while, if that's alright with you." your ever so beloved boyfriend told her, smiling angelically. coach threw you a final glare before pausing the music and leaving the room, muttering something about how kids these days were just getting lazier by the generation.

as soon as she was gone, riki bounded over to you for a hug, grinning widely.

"is that fever you've been dancing to for the past 2 hours?" he laughed cheekily, ruffling your hair as he handed you a much appreciated bottle of water.

"ugh, yes. i love your choreographies, but please stop performing them so well. coach keeps finding the tiniest differences when she compares my dancing to yours. at this rate, she'll convince hybe to kick out their best dancer at monthlies." you pouted, looking up at your (unnecessarily tall) boyfriend as he smiled.

"personally, i prefer your dance over mine, but i might be biased. let's go through it once together to check though, yeah?" he said comfortingly, rubbing your back before heading over to start the song from the stereo again. you pretended to glare at him as you got back into the starting position, but you never complained about any kind of time you got to spend with your busy boyfriend.

as you both danced through the song, he commented on some points you might want to improve on("tilt your head back a bit more- and your right foot is just a bit early"), but those were like compliments when compared with coach's sharp remarks.

you were panting when you finally finished up, wanting to collapse from the sheer amount of time you've been dancing for.

"thanks so much for giving me some rest there" you said sarcastically, letting him lead you to the corner of the room to sit down. riki smiled at you as he dabbed sweat off your head with a towel, your half-meant complaints only seen as endearing by him.

"hey, be glad you're getting trained by the great nishimura riki of enhypen!" he teased you, poking your cheek and pulling you into his arms. you tried to get out of his grasp to no avail- the kid was spending way too much time working out nowadays.

"be glad you get to help train the great yn! i'll debut soon, and you'll regret not getting my autograph earlier!" you laughed, allowing yourself to fall back into his arms.

"i'm not sure i'd be satisfied with an autograph, though..." he smirked at you, making you suddenly feel nervous.

"what do you mean, not satisfied-" you said, pretending to be offended as you tilted your head back to look at him. however, you were unfortunately cut off before you could finish your sentence. fortunately, it was because riki's lips were on yours, making you smile into the kiss.

"what was that for?" you asked, wishing you could will yourself to seem annoyed. your face betrayed you, as it always did around riki, your cheeks tinted pink and your lips curving into an unavoidable smile.

"mmm, i don't know, i just wanted to. now can i have another kiss?"

[bruisedboys]

Your characterization of the marauders is spot on for all of them!! Ok, here are my insane thoughts about Remus in no particular order:

- he’s obviously insecure about his scars, but nothing makes him feel better or more loved than when you trace them softly or kiss along one of them because you think he’s beautiful no matter what and you need him to know that

- he’d be the perfect boyfriend around the holidays, helping with baking and taking you around to see the lights and always making sure you have a warm drink and letting you borrow his sweaters because you just look so beautiful in them and doing a gift exchange where he gives you the most thoughtful gift ever because he always listens and always remembers every little thing you say

- he’s a great chef and he’ll never let the boys know, and as much as he loves taking you out and showing you off, his favorite dates are at home where he cooks a nice meal and you cuddle up to watch a movie after or he’ll read to you (omg his voice would be all soft and a little scratchy ahh)

- bookstore dates are the best, and you’ll go and pick out a book for him and he’ll pick one out for you and if it’s nice you’ll go read in the park or on your back porch but if it’s cold (like it is now) you’ll curl up on the couch together and read for the whole afternoon, just enjoying being near each other

- lately I can’t stop thinking about dad!Remus, he’d be so great while you’re pregnant and he’d read all the baby books and he’d baby proof your apartment and he’d get you whatever you needed or wanted at any hour of the day all while being stressed beyond belief but he’d never let you know that when you have much more important things to worry about and once the baby comes, she’s got him wrapped around her tiny little fingers (because he’s obviously a girl dad) and just imagine this tiny little baby being held so gently by this tall, deceptively strong man

- also I have some very detailed thoughts about book store reader x single dad Remus if you’d like to hear…

omg so many good thoughts thank you angel!!!! I will be thinking about all of these for the next 2-5 business days…..

- ok firstly YES. bf is very insecure about his scars but you tell him they’re pretty and make him look really handsome and he just loses it!!!!! the second you kiss or even just caress one of his scars he melts. also if you’re ever insecure about your own scars/stretch marks/other marks on your body he’ll show you his and be like but look :))) we’re matching babe :))))

- yes he is so christmas boyfriend!!!!! he’s such a good gift giver because he remembers everything about you and yes his gifts are always so thoughtful!! I feel like he’s very into handmade gifts too! I’m imagining a handmade clay vase or something like that. or a wooden jewellery box. omg!!

- real!!!! he cooks the best homey meals (domestic!remus 😵‍💫) like pasta dishes, soups, homemade bread. omg bread is definitely his speciality and he’ll make it fresh for you at the drop of a hat if you’re craving it <3

- bookstore dates!!! stop I am literally swooning. you and him will do a little game where you don’t let the other person see what book you’re getting until you’re out of the store and then you present it to them once you’re out!! he has the best taste in books so you always know it’ll be good 😌 and then when you read together he’s always gotta be touching you, your legs in his lap or his hand on your thigh, sometimes he’ll even lay in your lap!!!

- dad!remus will actually be the death of me. for some reason the idea of any of my favourite characters being dads just awakens something feral inside of me. he’s definitely the best ever when you’re pregnant!!! you better believe he’s doing everything for you, you’re not allowed to lift a finger babe. he’s very protective of you too, very gentle with you and aware of anything and everything that could hurt you or the baby even a tiny bit. if you’re emotional or sick or just having a really rough time he always holds it together for you, never losing his patience and always reminding you that you’re incredible and strong and he loves you!!! also also he loves his friends but he doesn’t let them rub your tummy or talk to the baby for too long, that’s his baby thank you very much 😇

oh em gee I’d love your thoughts on bookstore reader x single dad!remus 🤭 all of your thoughts so far were soooo good and fuelled my brainrot successfully

[mebemilena]

We'll make Heaven a place on Earth

A/N: i can't watch Euphoria because it gets me stressed. I got to learn about cassie and i think she deserves some loving. let's writte fluff. Also i only write for cassie howard because sydney sweeney is an adult herself.

tittle from Heaven Is a Place on Earth, by Belinda Carlisle

Artist female reader but i guess i didn't use pronouns.

warnings: mentions of sex and nudity

-

Summary: you're an artist, you paint angels. Cassie asks you to paint her. Naked.

-

The morning sun could barely shine behind the heavy clouds, the chance of a storm hitting the city again. Cassie woke up to an empty bed and frowned. She walked around your apartment, knowing exactly where to find you, and entered the small studio, a smile already growing on her face. 

"What are you up to?", she approached you, placing herself behind you and her arms around your shoulders.

You hummed at her warmth, putting your paintbrush in the cup with dirty water you've used all morning. "Just another piece.", you said, your hand resting on her forearm.

Cassie stared at your painting, a cloudy sky with a few cupids flying around. Her eyes wandered through the angels you had made out of ink as she rested her chin on the top of your head, still standing behind you. "They don't have faces...?", she questioned.

You took a deep breath before speaking, trying not to stutter. "Well.. i was thinking i could, you know... borrow your features?", you asked, biting your lip and closing your eyes, bracing yourself for a negative answer.

Cassie didn't respond though. She moved so she could look at you and smiled, yet to give you an answer.

"I understand if you don't feel comfortable about it, i can ju-", you started but she kissed your lips before you could finish.

"I'd love to.', she nudged your nose with her own and kissed you again, her eyes holding a mischeave that could make Satan blush. "On one condition though.", she bit her lip, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I want you to paint me.", she pecked your lips.  "Full body.", she kissed you again. "Naked.", she whispered, licking your lips softly and sensually.

-

The studio held a dim light, something you had prepared earlier. You had brought the chair from the living room, together with the baby blue fabric to cover Cassie's torso and part of her legs. She got to the room but didn't enter just yet, waiting by the door as she looked inside. You seemed more nervous than she ever would.

"You've painted lots of nude women, Y/N. I'm pretty sure you can paint one more.", Cassie mocked, giving you a playful smile.

You set your brushes and inks, bringing a new blank canvas closer. You watched Cassie undress nonchalantly, it wasn't her first time. She sits on the small sofa, waiting for your instructions.

"Can you lay a little? Your back to the arm of the chair. Put your arm above your head.", you instructed, holding the fabric, deciding how it would go on your model.

Cassie followed your instructions diligently, a straight face at your words. She recognized your professional tone when you were in work mode. It made her feel professional too, like this was something in between one of her fantasies and a possibility for her near future.   She had been your model before, for the painting classes you offered when you needed extra money. She had volunteered when your usual model had a problem and couldn't make it. "You're paying me to see me naked? Kinky", she joked at that time, hiding her nervousness.

"There is nothing sexual about nude painting, really. You're gonna get sore from keeping the same position and we are gonna struggle to find the right shades of ink to match the lights.", you had explained. In fact, the experience was much more professional than she had anticipated. She was sore, indeed. And the students applauded her by the end of the class, thanking her for the effort of being there like a statue, helping them study and learn. They looked at her with gratitude and respect, not like some horny teenagers watching a big boobies woman on a porn video.

Cassie smiled at the memory, lifting her head just enough to plant a small kiss to your cheek as you leaned down to adjust the fabric. You looked at her in awe, giggling when she winked at you.

The atmosphere was light and easy, the kind of atmosphere Cassie came to love while in college, peace becoming one of her favorite feelings. She did feel at peace when she met you, letting you learn about her and showing genuine interest in knowing you too. When you started dating, she'd remind herself that love is calm and gentle. Patient and kind. Like you.

-

The baby blue fabric was mostly between Cassie's legs, creating some volume under her body, the color mimicking her eyes almost perfectly . Cassie had her breasts and collarbones on display though she laid with her back to the ceiling. The position would get tiring soon, one arm folded onto her middle and the other supporting her head. 

As you sketched Cassie, she'd try not to laugh. She remembered you saying there was nothing sexual about nude painting, but she found it extremely intimate to watch you paint her alone. She'd keep your expreions to her memory. The way you blush when you look directly into her eyes, the way you lick your lips when they get too dry. 

"Stop moving.", you warned with a smile, your eyes not leaving the canvas.

Cassie's smile grew. "I feel like we're on Titanic. We should have gotten some jewelry.", she suggested.

You were finishing the sketch when she cleared her throat, watching as your eyes left the canvas and stopped at her again, curious.

Cassie got up from the chair, bringing the fabric with her, letting it  fall at her feet on the floor, revealing every little detail of her nudeness. She said no word, just stared at you, slowly walking in your direction, captivating your eyes with her own as if hypnotizing you. 

A serpent. A goddess. A woman.

Cassie.

Her firm steps took her to you and she gently took the charcoal from your hand, bringing your dirty finger to her lips, kissing them.

Cassie made you get up from your chair, pulling you  by your shirt, walking back to her previous spot by the chair and the fabric on the floor. She sits, bringing you down with her, her lips hovering above yours.

"Make love to me.", she demanded, eyes clouded with desire. "Here, now. With your angels watching us and blushing for all the noises we'll make.", she kissed your neck, biting softly on your skin. 

It would have sounded like she was teasing you, but Cassie looked very serious.

And you'd burn this building down before denying her every wish.

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 14C: Where Do We Go Now?

Soundtrack: “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” Guns N’ Roses, 1987 [click here to listen]

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go?

- Guns N’ Roses, “Sweet Child O’ Mine” (1987)

Tucson || July 1988

AA met every Thursday in a church hall not far from the studio. She’d borrowed Bobby’s Trans Am to drive Jamie, holding his hand the whole way, hearing about his chat with Alec – who had graciously agreed during their January trip to New York to be Jamie’s sponsor.

She kissed him when he went inside. Needing some peace and quiet of her own, in the car, as she waited.

She had tried NA off and on, but it hadn’t really clicked. She was so very happy that AA really worked for Jamie – it was always much easier for him to open up to perfect strangers – and she was grateful that he could get the support he needed, at a moment’s notice, in any city.

Not to mention that the Friends of Bill took the “anonymous” in Alcoholics Anonymous quite seriously – meaning, in those meetings Jamie was just Jamie the alcoholic, not Jamie Fraser the frontman of Print, not the rock star. Just a man who fought daily battles with addiction, who was trying to be better, who just so happened to have the number six record in the country today.

It was hard. It was always going to be hard. But he was worth it. The life they had together was worth it.

She pulled out the folded envelope. Smoothed the creases against the steering wheel. Reading and reading and re-reading the return address.

Listening to Guns N’ Roses and Def Leppard and Poison and Cheap Trick on the radio.

She didn’t see Jamie cross the parking lot. Jumped when he slid into the passenger seat, smiling, with a kiss.

“Hey.”

She offered a tight smile. “Hey. How are you?”

“Much better.”

His gaze found the envelope.

He didn’t need to say anything.

She couldn’t say anything.

But now that he was here, she opened it.

Held out the single sheet of paper.

They read.

Dr. Claire Beauchamp

via Colum Laird, Broch Productions

Dear Dr. Beauchamp,

Thank you for your letter and providing a forwarding address. Three months ago, the BMC board unanimously voted to terminate your employment. For legal reasons we will not provide further details, and the board’s decision is final.

However, we have communicated to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts that your medical license should be restored, with the provision that you no longer practice medicine in any kind of high-stress environment. You may contact the medical board at the below address to request a copy of…

Jamie watched Claire read and re-read and re-read.

“Sweet Child O’ Mine” played softly on the radio.

A long, long moment.

The song shifted to the bridge.

Where do we go now, sweet child? Axl Rose murmured.

Jamie took a breath. “Where do we go now, Claire?” he whispered.

She folded the paper and put it back in the envelope. Laid it on the dash. Reached beneath her shirt to pull the long chain up over her neck. Settled her left hand on Jamie’s thigh, skin hot through his jeans.

Jamie unclasped the chain, letting his grandmother’s engagement ring slide free. He slipped the ring onto her finger. Brought her hand to his lips, kissing so softly.

“I’d like us to have an extra day in Boston when we’re there next week. So that we can pack up my apartment.”

She was looking through the windshield, face turned to him in profile.

“Yes. What else?”

“I’d like a little house in the mountains of North Carolina. Not too far from The Ridge. It’s so beautiful and peaceful there. I’m sure Dougal and Gillian can help us find something.”

Gently he bit her knuckles. “Something small. Kitchen and living room. Bedroom for us. A room I can use for music. And a room for your medicine.”

She nodded. “I’ll transfer my license – I’ve already looked into how to do that. I can file the paperwork when we get to Boston. I don’t know if I want to be in a private practice, or just volunteer in a clinic, or maybe something else. We’ll get settled, and then we’ll decide.”

“We will. I – are you happy, Claire?”

She smiled tightly. “More…relieved. And yes, I’m happy, Jamie. Happy to be free. Happy to be marrying you.”

They sat in silence for a long while. Listening to the final notes of Slash’s guitar. And then the first two minutes of INXS and “New Sensation”.

Memory flared – the last time she heard this song was the one time she’d seen Jamie nude, changing into his leather pants backstage in Orlando, when she’d entered his dressing room without knocking.

She swallowed. “I want the house to have at least one spare bedroom.”

He laced their fingers. “Of course – for guests.”

She flushed. Finally met his eyes.

“Yes. And for children.”

He released a suddenly shaky breath. “Oh, my love. Yes.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m never taking this ring off again.”

He leaned across the console and kissed her. Kissed her. Kissed her.

[luveline]

Hello! I have an idea for the asf universe and would love to see what you make of it (but I love you more so no pressure ofc! 😊😊) Not sure if I’m explaining this well, but maybe ghost is having a day where they’re kind of a bit spacey, just a little lost, sort of moving around in a floaty way. Would love to see how Fred (and George maybe!) kind of keep an eye on her and help ground her, all with that heavy sort of achey love at seeing her like this in their hearts. Thanks sm!!

I hope this is close to what you meant angel, thank you for requesting me! fem!reader, 1k

cw for mental health issues, low moods, spacing out

"Where's your stool?" Fred asks. 

You look up at him and rub a sleepy from the corner of your eye. "It was here earlier." 

You look not unsteady, exactly, but as though a whipping breeze could knock you down. Fred presses his lips together rather than frown at you, readjusting the boxes under his arms as they begin to slip. The shop is alive around you, at odds with your listlessness. A firecracker frog jumps over your shoes, the heat like sunlight across both of your ankles, but you don't seem to notice. 

"Well, that's not alright, is it?" he asks. Gentle, because he wants to be gentle with you, but not too much, lest you feel condescended. "Did George borrow it?" 

Your eyes gain a smidge of life. "Yeah. He's bringing it back." 

"Would you rather have a chair? Your back must hurt," he says, ducking as a whizzbanger shoots over his head. 

"It's really loud in here today, Freddie." 

Fred curses the stuff he's carrying. You're only observing, but you're using that tone that hurts his chest, has his hands reaching for you despite the audience of the shop's customers surrounding from both sides and upstairs. 

"Let me go put these away, doll. I want to talk to you about something." 

"Okay," you murmur. Fred worries more, but luckily you've the wherewithal to speak when a customer approaches, "Hi, how are you?" 

Fred swears under his breath and heads to the front of the store where they put the best product. George has indeed borrowed your stool, stretched tall on one dangerous leg as he reattaches a fabric poster that's falling down. 

"Almost done?" Fred asks, dropping boxes unceremoniously onto the shelf before waving his hand at them. It's a shame he dropped out, really —the boxes leap to position without wand nor a verbal spell. 

George hops down. "Done. Y/N looks a bit… unwell, yeah?" 

Fred grabs the stool in one hand. "Yeah. I have it, don't worry."

"I'd say take her upstairs, but…" 

But it's too busy and they'd have to close, which would potentially make them late on rent this month because they haven't been busy in a while. 

"I think she's okay," Fred says, shrugging one shoulder. He's not sure, honestly, but he wants to offer you as much privacy as he can. "I have her, seriously." 

"I know," George says.

Fred hikes it back to your station. You're staring through the till into space, holding your arm loosely in your hand. Fred props the stool behind you and gives you a nudge. 

"You have to tell me if you don't feel well," he says. He winces at how close it sounds to a telling off, taking your face into his hands apologetically. "You're very, very quiet today." 

You perk up a touch. "I feel a bit tired." You offer him a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. They're sad, and lazy, focused on his nose. 

"Is that what it is?" he teases. 

He never speaks to you with cruelty and it pays off. He can make these small jokes about how you're feeling and be secure in knowing that you know he means well. You melt into his palms.

"What are you thinking about?" 

"Nothing good," you say, dredging up another weak smile. 

Fred hates that most. He hates that you spent a long, long time before you met him hiding how you felt. You never deserved the shame. You shouldn't have to water it down or ignore it hoping it'll go away, or hoping that people won't see it. You can't help it. That's what breaks his heart, and what makes it easy to do as he does now, curling an arm around your shoulder to drop a line of kisses over your forehead. 

"Ghost?" he asks.

You lean on his abdomen. He hugs you. 

"Y/N?" he whispers, ducking his head down further. 

"Yeah?" 

"Are you okay, lovely girl?" 

You preen at his pet name. It's exactly why he says it. Nodding, you rest your face in his shirt and relax. It's impressive in the chaos of the shop. 

You ignore him as a customer approaches the till. He knows it's bad service, and he knows it might appear like you're two lovebirds being disgusting in public, but Fred doesn't make you move away from him as he serves them. You hold onto his shirt with tentative fingers. 

As soon as he's done with them he descends on you again. He doesn't know how to fix everything, but Fred knows you, and how much affection can ease the bad feelings. 

"I think we need a film night tonight," he says. 

"I have inventory," you say, as though your boyfriend isn't your boss. 

"I'll make George do it…" He peeks around to make sure no one's waiting or looking before he presses a proper kiss to your lips. You kiss back enough to settle his nerves about the whole thing. You're okay, you're just having a rough day. "What I want is me and you and an apple pie with ice cream," he decides. He can see it now. You in his bed in your comfiest pyjamas, your eyes lit up properly, a spoon in your hand. 

Fred just wants you to smile and mean it.

"And we'll watch that film you like. With the dogs."

Your hand falls against the small of his back. He has a line of stretch marks there that fascinate you when you're both alone together. You trail your fingertip up and down the ridges like your fingertips are climbing a ladder. 

"You'll let me plait your hair?" you ask softly. 

"Let my favourite girl play with my hair for hours? You'll have to let me think about it." 

You laugh. Fred knows you're gonna be okay. 

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Evermore: Part. 2

A/N: Hello! I just wanted to thank everyone who has read and commented on the last chapter! That truly means a lot to me.

Warnings: There aren't many warnings, but to have tissues ready. It's been hard to write without crying every sentence.

Before I shut up, I just wanted to thank my lovely besties here. @hollybee8917 ! She made this wonderful mood board and edited this chapter! So thank you, babes!

Your alarm clock buzzed, and you moaned. You barely gotten any sleep and you didn’t want to get up. But you had to, because today wasn’t just an ordinary day. Today was a big day. Before you could even get up, the door opened and the sounds of tippy taps were heard. You smiled, and the sound of sniffing and then the 80 lbs. Alaskan Malamute/German Shepherd pup jumped onto the bed.

“Alright Sarg!” You said as he gave you wet kisses. You then pushed Sarg off, and he jumped off. It was a chilly, winter morning, so you grabbed your sweater and the moment you placed it on, you smiled. The scent of Bergamot and Vanilla filled your nose.

“In a few more hours, honey.” You said to yourself and wondered what he was up to.

And on cue, your phone rang and you quickly grabbed it and slid the green button.

Hi angel.

You smiled to yourself, “Hello Mr. Levinson, did you sleep well? And I thought you weren’t supposed to call me sir?”

You heard Ari laugh and you let out a giggle. He replied, “I did, surprisingly. And I know, I know. Andy forbade me from calling you. But I can’t go a day without hearing your voice. Even if it’s just for a brief moment.”

And that is true. Ever since you were 16, Ari would have called you. You weren’t dating then, but him being your best friend since you were teens, nothing could sway him from talking to you.

You scratched your head, “Is everything okay, Ari?”

“In all honesty? No. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Aww baby, is everything alright?”

“No, because you’re not here.”

A sad sight slipped from your lips, “How do I make everything okay?”

Ari laughed, “Oh angel, it will be in a few hours when you become Mrs. Levinson.”

The sound of that made your heart jump for joy. That is true. You heard Andy in the background, and you laughed.

Well, Mrs. Soon-to-be Levinson, I’ve got to go. But I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you.

You smiled, “Love you too, Mr. Levinson.”

You hung up, and Sarg jumped onto the bed, giving you a bark.

“Alright! I’m going, I’m going!” You said, getting up and heading out.

 **

A few hours later…

You stood in front of the mirror, making sure that everything was in place. Your hair was perfect, makeup was just the way you wanted it. A knock was heard and you turned around to see your college best friend Holly. In her hands was your bouquet of white, dark magenta pink, and baby pink Roses.

“You got something new and borrowed. But something is missing.” Holly said, as she placed your bouquet down and a small box appeared. You had curious eyes as your friend strolled towards you. The box opened, and you gasped.

A diamond pendant.

“I told Ari no expensive gifts!” You say, running your fingertips against the necklace.

“He knew you would have said that,” Holly said and handed you a small card. You placed the box down and opened the card.

I had a feeling that you would say something about the gift. I know we decided not to give expensive gifts, but you deserve it. Hell, you deserve everything in this world. I love you, Mrs. Levinson.

-Ari

You smiled and sighed.

“Let’s put on.” You say. You took the necklace and placed it around your neck.

**

The limo pulled up in front of St. Cecilia Catholic Church. The car came to a complete stop, and you took a deep breath and sighed. Then the door opened, and your best friend Holly came out, then your parents. You handed Holly your bouquet and got yourself out. It’s only been 30 minutes, and your feet are already hurting from the heels that you are wearing. You hated them, but Holly and your mother insisted you wear them. Thank the lord you brought your flats, and you would be changing into them after the ceremony. 

You fidgeted nervously as you stood in front of the double doors. With your dad next to you and your arm linked to his, he looked down at you, “Ready, Squirt?”

You giggled, knowing that was your nickname since you were a kid.

“I am daddy. And dad?” You asked.

“What is it?” He asked. 

You placed your hand on top of his and smiled, “Thank you for everything.” 

Your dad smiled and patted your hand. And with that, the doors opened, and everyone stood up. Your hands started to shake as the music started playing Yiruma’s Moments and you started to walk down the aisle. You shook a little until you looked towards the altar and your beloved Ari was looking back at you. The way he smiled at you made your heart soar. He was looking mighty fine. He wore his Army uniform, with his saber by his side. His thick beard and the way his long fluffy hair brought a smile to your face once more. (You had only a few months with him before he was deployed back to South Carolina for training new recruits) 

When you reached the front, your dad released your hand and placed it into Ari’s. You then stepped forward and faced Ari.

“Hi Angel,” Ari whispered. 

You wiped your tears and smiled, “Hi, Ari Bear.”

**

Wandering around the venue with a glass of wine in your hands, you spoke with guests. As you did, you looked over to the other side of the hall to see your now husband heading towards you. You handed your glass to Holly and by the time you did, Ari was in front you with his hand out. You placed yours into his and he took you to the middle of the dance floor. Ari gave the DJ a nod and a familiar tune came on. You looked up at Ari and he smiled. Your heart skipped a beat, “Is this-“

“Me and You?” 

Ari said, “Yes it is.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks and you placed your head against his chest.

“Everyday I live

Try my best to give

All I have to you

Thank the stars above

That we share this love

Me and You”

“You looked so beautiful walking down the aisle.” Ari whispered into your ear. 

“You knew that I liked your thick beard.” You said, as you still both swayed to the music.

Those are the exact words he has always said to you when he would write you letters, or send you flowers. But hearing him singing them to you made it even more special. You thank the stars that he came into your life. You then looked towards him and reached up to kiss him, “I love you.”

Ari kissed you once more, “I love you more.” 

**

You strolled with Sam by your side as you went towards Ari. Everything around you seemed like a blur, and nothing existed. Your heart was beating and breaking all at the same time by the time you got to his casket. You let go of Sam’s arm and stood for a moment, looking. But the second you placed your hand on top of the flag, everything went south with your emotions. Your tears, your feelings, your love for Ari, it all hit you. You placed your head down onto the coffin and balled your fists tightly. 

“Ari, I’m here now.” You whisper. 

You felt a hand behind you, and you knew that it was Andy.  

“Y/N, they have to retrieve him now,” Andy told you. 

You placed a kiss on top of the flag, and you stepped back, even if it was hurting. You held on to Andy, tears still coming down, and you watched on as your husband was being placed into the Hearst. The moment the door closed, Andy led you back to the car so you could go to the funeral home.

Good evening. I'm Jason Austel from NBC Boston. We start this evening with some upsetting news. A local hero, US Army Captain Ari Levinson from Concord, died today. He was deployed overseas and was in the Humvee when a bomb exploded in the car in front of them. He is survived by his wife and his 5-month-old daughter.

[alisonfelixwrites]

Informed consent: chapter 4

Word count: 14,866

Mia put on her coat and watched as Harry did the same. He faintly waved over at some people and Mia felt guilty instantly. Harry had caught her look though and shook his head, “Don’t even think about apologising.”

Mia felt her cheeks heating a little and then nibbled her lip, “Still. I hope your friends don’t think I’m rude because I didn’t even say hi to them.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Harry waved it away and Mia decided to drop it. Flipping her hair out of the neckline of the blazer she borrowed from Hazel, she stepped up to their table.

Renan and Lynn shot her a knowing, teasing look after having seen Mia at the bar with Harry, but Mia just shot them a small smile and diverted her attention to Hazel, “I’m gonna go home.” She announced softly.

Hazel grinned, “Okay.”

“Hi.” Harry behind her greeted her friends in a low voice, and they all shot him blinding smiles which made Mia blush harder. Mia cleared her throat, “H-Harry’s going to walk me home.” She informed, not missing the way Hazel’s smile widened even more at the information, “Okay.”

“Bye.” Mia breathed before she turned around. Harry chuckled from behind her but followed along. The bell to the bar dinged as they opened up the door, and the rain was instantly sensible on their heads. “Oh.” Mia mumbled, wrapping the blazer a little tighter around her as Harry glanced up at the sky, “Shit, ‘s a rough night.”

Mia felt guilty all over again but tried hard to keep her mouth shut and not apologise all the time. Harry rubbed his palms together and shot her a smile, “Which way?”

She inhaled a breath and nudged her head towards the opposite street, “That way.”

They braved the rain together, hardly able to get a few words in as it clattered against the sidewalk so harshly. They tried a few times, constantly having to yell ‘what?!’ to the other person until they laughed it off and continued walking. Mia exhaled in relief when her building came into view and she pulled her key out of her purse.

Harry hurried under the overhang, running his hand through his wet hair before shaking it out a little. Mia shuddered in her wet coat, hair matting against the back of the leather as she turned around and shot Harry a small smile, “Thank you for walking me home.”

A wet droplet hung from the tip of his nose as he smiled back, “No problem. Wanted you to get home safe.”

Her heart warmed at his sentiment. Never in a million years did she dare to imagine that the man who made her cry earlier this week would be the one to make her feel so giddy only days later. She bit her lip to hide her smile and cleared her throat, “Do you want to come up for some hot tea? Oh, and I could give you that book from Maya Angelou.”

Harry blinked a few times and eventually nodded, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Alright.” Mia beamed before turning around and letting them into the building. Their footsteps left wet puddles in the hallways as Mia brought them up to the second floor and then stopped in front of one of the doors, opening it up with another key.

The apartment was still a bit chaotic from having people over earlier and Mia mumbled an apology, “Sorry it’s so messy, we haven’t cleaned yet and it’s been a chaotic week.”

“Hey, I live with two other guys. Don’t worry about it.” Harry joked, stepping inside carefully. The scent of cinnamon mixed with vanilla entered his nose, and he suspected some lovely candle was the culprit for the heavenly scent that he would now forever associate with Mia. He glanced over his shoulder to see her shrugging off the wet coat, running her fingers through her hair before she bent down to unzip her boots. 

His eyes lingered on the curve of her ass in the flared jeans and he admired her body for a second before looking away, realising how inappropriate it was. He was here to warm up and get the book, and that was it.

Mia put on some fluffy slippers that Harry found completely adorable before she turned around to face him, “You can take off your coat, you must be freezing.” She walked up to him, bringing up her hands. His eyes widened at the thought she might take it upon herself to unzip it, but it seemed like Mia realised all of a sudden what she was about to do – and stopped. 

She took a step back with pink cheeks and cleared her throat, “Y-You can hang it up on the coat rack next to mine. Do you want tea?”

Harry tried to keep the hammering of his chest under control, “Yes, I do.”

“Okay.” She piped up, hurrying into the kitchen while muttering under her breath how stupid she was and how much of a fool she was making of herself. Mia busied herself with putting on the kettle as Harry took a curious look around the apartment. He stared at some of the pictures on the wall and Mia noticed him, “Those are all Hazel’s.”

Harry looked at the pictures of Hazel, smiling along with her friends who he recognized from the bar earlier. The boy with the blue hair had pink hair in one of the shots. Harry nodded at Mia’s words and continued walking along.

Mia had trouble keeping her breathing under control with a boy like him walking around her apartment. It dawned on her how alone they were in here and how silent it was. She fiddled with some tea bags, “What flavour do you want?”

Harry turned to face her, “I quite liked what you gave me today during therapy. D’you have any more of that?”

Mia’s lips curled up into a smile as she bashfully nodded, “Y-Yeah.” She wasn’t sure why she liked it so much that Harry enjoyed her recommendations, even if it was for something as silly as tea.

She poured two cups of the hot, steaming water and dropped tea bags in it before padding over the couch, making sure she didn’t slip or spill anything. With her lip between her teeth, she put them down on the coffee table and then sat down on the couch, Harry joining her soon after.

There was a decent distance between them, and she fiddled with her wet hair again before reaching for her clip which was on the table, occupying her hands as they wrapped around her locks and she twisted it into an updo to keep the dripping ends off of her back.

She glanced to her side to find Harry softly smiling at her and she blushed while looking down, “Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry?”

“No, ‘m good. Thanks for the offer, Mia.” Harry responded before they fell into a comfortable silence. There were a few dim lights on around the room and the overall vibe was cosy.

“Are you warm enough? Do you need an extra sweater? I-I think they’d all be a bit small on you but still – if your clothes are wet you should take them off before you get sick. I would feel horrible if you got a fever because of this.” Mia turned to rambling to ease her anxiety and Harry looked at her with playful eyes, “I should take them off, hm? What’re you suggesting here, Mia?”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped as a deep red flush rose up her neck, “Oh my god, I-I’m n-“

“Mia.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh while shaking his head, “Relax, ‘m only messing with you. It’s alright, my clothes aren’t wet and I’m definitely warm enough.”

“Oh.” She blushed furiously, embarrassment taking over that she never really got his sarcastic jokes when he made them, and she fiddled with her thumbs when she felt a little silly for always taking everything so seriously.

“I-I’m quickly going to put something else on, I’m a little cold.” She spoke in a small voice, slightly desperate to get away from him for just a second so she could recompose herself. She really hadn’t thought it through when asking him up to the flat with her. Was he expecting something? Was she unwillingly flirting again like Tyler thought she had? Was she coming across as desperate?

She sighed and palmed her face, standing in front of her closet as she quickly unbuttoned the floral top she spent so long picking out hours prior. She threw it to the floor in frustration, standing in her light pink bra before yanking on an oversized jumper. The look wasn’t as cute as the previous top had been, but at least she was warm and cosy and could hide in her clothes a little when Harry decided to make a comment that would turn her cheeks as pink as the jumper she chose.

Taking a breather, Mia decided to sit down on the edge of her bed for just a moment. Her mind was spinning and she was so nervous to be alone with him, so nervous to blurt out something stupid that would turn him off. She didn’t know what signals he was giving off or how to even read them. She thought one thing – that he liked her a little – but maybe he meant something completely different.

A slight knock on her door made her jump up when her spiralling thoughts were interrupted.

“Mia? Can I come in?” Harry’s voice sounded muffled behind the door and Mia pressed her lips together before readjusting the clip in her hair and getting up. Her bunny slippers carried her to the door that she carefully opened.

Harry was dimly lit up by the hallway lights behind him and he leaned against the doorpost casually while looking down at her, “Everything alright? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable before, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Mia exhaled a trembling breath, “Y-You didn’t?”

Harry narrowed his eyes and looked at her unsurely, contemplating what the correct answer was. He knew his little joke from earlier had made her shy and embarrassed even if he hadn’t meant for her to feel like that at all. But Harry was nervous, sitting on the couch with Mia all alone in her apartment after walking her home. A week ago, he didn’t even know this girl and now she occupied every minute of his day.

He bit his lip and then just decided to be honest, “Honestly? I did. But it came out wrong, and I’m sorry if it was too much.”

He wasn’t sure how Mia was going to take it, but she appreciated his honesty and let out a small breath, offering him a small smile, “Okay.”

Harry relaxed too, smiling back before peaking into the space behind her, “Is this your room?”

“Wh- Oh. Yeah.” Mia responded, turning around too, “It’s really messy right now, they all helped me pick out an outfit earlier.” She explained, hurrying through the room to pick up some pieces of clothing scattered around and shove them into the half-open closet. She tidied up at a speed Harry had never really seen before, flying through the space with her arms full before she flicked on the sheet so it covered more of her mattress.

Harry stared around the room, nodding to himself, “Wow. It’s… about four times the size of my room.” He chuckled. Mia smiled and bit her lip, “Really? Yeah, we’re quite blessed with this apartment, we love it here. Hazel’s room is a little bigger than mine.”

Harry’s eyes glanced over the double bed with the white sheets, and overall the room was quite blank and not really decorated. Her desk was the most cluttered area of the entire room, books and books with school material littering the white desk as notes were scattered around. Harry assumed it was Mia’s most used place in the apartment.

He went to look back at Mia, who had her back to him as she flicked her eyes over her bookcase before putting her finger on the spine of one and pulling it out, “Here you go.” She turned around, offering Harry the book they had spoken about earlier today.

Why the caged bird sings.

Harry grinned as he nodded, “This is really cool. Thank you, Mia, for letting me borrow it.”

“That’s alright.” She smiled back, “I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.”

His smile fell a little and Harry swallowed while looking down at his shoes, “I-I want to apologise again for Tuesday. I was so rude to you and yet you gave me another chance. And I really appreciate that.” He honestly admitted. The words he had spewed at her were fresh in Mia’s brain, but getting to know Harry a little bit better – she knew he wasn’t truly like that. 

It had been his anger and frustration towards the school and the system that he had worked out on her. It wasn’t the right way to talk to someone but he apologised and realised that, so she forgave him for his little outburst. 

“It’s okay.” She murmured, “I forgive you. Really.”

Harry’s face lit up as he sighed, shoulders dropping a little. His gaze felt heavy and Mia shuffled a little as she felt herself growing smaller and more self-conscious. Her hands fumbled with the sleeves of her jumper and Harry chuckled under his breath, “You’re so cool.”

Her brows raised on instinct, “Me?”

“Yeah, silly. You.” Harry smiled, not stopping himself before he took a step forward. Mia held her breath, inhaling the scent of perfume lingering around Harry so subtly yet perfectly fitting him. She adored it immediately and was addicted in an instant. She couldn’t blink, not when Harry leaned down. 

Mia didn’t dare looking up, didn’t dare tilting her head back. She was excited, but also very scared that he was going to try and maybe kiss her. She wasn’t ready, but luckily for her, Harry sensed that. He wanted to show his gratitude, and he wanted to show that he truly did feel an interest towards her, but he wanted to respect her boundaries after she had already unsuccessfully rejected someone tonight who didn’t get the hint.

So he settled on a brush of his lips against her cheekbone. He could feel the soft inhale of a gasp the moment his lips made contact with her soft skin, and he puckered his lips gently to press a kiss right to the high of her cheek, lingering just for a moment before he pulled back with a little smack.

Her face was priceless, and if Harry focussed on it too much, he was sure he’d start laughing. So he just settled on a little chuckle at the pure shock written in her eyes and then trailed his fingers down her arm, “Come on, our tea’s getting cold.”

He casually turned around and walked back into the living room, leaving Mia completely flustered and breathless. She looked at his back, and even if she didn’t see his face, she knew he was smirking. He had to be. Harry was kind, but he still took pleasure in seeing her suffer just a little bit. And this was one of those moments, where he knew exactly what he was doing – driving her absolutely crazy – but enjoyed it at the same time.

Mia needed a second before she could follow him out into the living room again, seeing Harry lazily on the couch like he had been in this space his entire life. His cup of tea was on his lap, comfortably resting in one of his large palms as Mia slid into the couch next to him. 

“So… exposure therapy on Tuesday, hm?” Harry broke the silence. Mia took a breath and forced herself to nod, “Mhm.”

“Who invented that?”

She relaxed on the couch a little while racking her brain, “Pavlov, I think.”

Harry frowned at her, “Isn’t that the guy with the dog?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, “He invented conditioning in the early 1900s.”

“So…” Harry drew out, “do you expect me to start drooling when I walk into the library?”

Mia giggled under her breath, a sound Harry realised he found extremely pleasant and wanted to hear so much more of. Mia bit her lip to hide her smile as she shook her head, “I hope not.”

“Isn’t it usually used for phobias? Like people who fear spiders have to hold one or something?”

“It is.” Mia nodded, “Look at you, knowing so much about psychology.” She slightly teased, blushing a little at how comfortable she felt and Harry noticed it too, staring at her with a pleased glimmer in his eyes, “D’you think I missed my calling, Dr. Phil?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“What kind of a therapist would I be, then? Enlighten me.”

Mia smiled wide and licked her bottom lip, “Let me think… Probably a liberal one.”

“Very true.” Harry nodded.

Mia tilted her head to the side, “But do you really agree always with liberal ethics? I know in philosophy, natural liberal ethics were actually quite Christian,” Mia spoke, “most of the intercourse was forbidden unless it was meant for procreation. Like… fetishism was seen as immoral because it was one-sided, just one person fantasising about another. Whereas homosexuality wasn’t because it was mutual.”

“It’s so androcentric like that.” Harry muttered, completely in awe of how smart Mia was and how much he enjoyed talking to her about stuff like this, “Wasn’t it Gundorf who broadened that? Made it more secular? But even then, monogamy was the only way to go.”

Mia shifted on her seat a little, “You’re not monogamous?”

“If I’m in a relationship, sure.” Harry nodded firmly and Mia felt slight relief taking over her body for some reason as she nodded along. Harry cleared his throat, “Yeah, I don’t really like to share. I think sex in a relationship is really between you and your partner. Of course when you’re single, you don’t really have to stay monogamous. But it’s different.”

“How so?” Mia questioned softly. Harry avoided her gaze, suddenly feeling a little nervous to talk about this kind of stuff, stuff that made him a little vulnerable, “Well… I think sex is supposed to be fun and free, but I think it’d be more fun and free with someone I really know? And trust? I think it’s great if you’re with someone for a long time and you can keep exploring one another, try new things… those are things you don’t really get to do if it’s just one time.”

Mia stared at him intently, taking in his words as she listened to every syllable rolling off his lips. Once again, she had to really focus on what he was saying and not on the way his pink lips moved when he talked. If she focussed too much on that, every noise just got drowned out and she forgot how to blink.

“How about you?” Harry asked after a soft clearing of his throat, clasping his hands together as he happily shifted the attention away from himself. Mia got pulled from her train of thought and raised her brows, “Me?”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled, “you. Are you monogamous?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer his question, but to be honest – she never really saw herself as someone with many sexual experiences. She wouldn’t mind being with just one person all her life, if he loved her right and they were happy. And they had fun. Mia had no idea what she liked or disliked or how to do any of that, so if it was someone who could pull her through and make her feel good about herself… she’d be sold.

Sexy was something Mia had never felt before. She didn’t know what it was like. So maybe that was something she was looking for, someone who made her feel sexy, wanted and treasured.

“Yes.” She eventually nodded. Harry softly smiled and nodded before they fell into a short silence.

Mia took a long sip of tea before taking a breath, “But yes, it was Gundorf who broadened it, you’re right.” She took the topic back to what it was before. “He was also the one starting up the topic of consent.”

Harry hummed and nodded, “True. But then there was the criticism about consent and spontaneity. That the two don’t match. Which I don’t agree with. You can be spontaneous with someone and still have it be consensual. I think it’s one of the most attractive things to know that the other person really agrees and wants you.”

Mia softly smiled and nodded, “I think that’s a nice way to look at it.”

It was almost comical really, how comfortable the topic of sex and intercourse got to her when speaking about in a more theoretical way.

“Honestly, the Christian view on sex is so outdated.” Harry mused, “Did you know that at one point, homosexual love was considered elite? Because men were superior, so nothing could be more superior than two men.”

Mia raised her brows, “Really? Then why did it become such a taboo at one point?”

“Don’t know.” Harry shrugged, “Society changes, it still does. All the time. And I think it’s good that it does, that the views on sex have become much broader than they used to be.” He spoke, “Procreation, pfft.” He huffed under his breath and Mia smiled in amusement at his little frustration.

“Such a biological approach, right?” He continued, “I mean, if sex was only meant for procreation, why do women have a clit?”

Mia choked on her sip of tea, sputtering out coughs as she covered her mouth with one hand to catch her breath, “Jesus Christ, Harry.” She scolded with red cheeks, covering her face to hide from him with the jumper pawing her hands once she was through her coughing fit. He smirked at her reaction as she made herself into a little ball on the couch, bringing her legs up.

She had an amused smile on her lips though when pulling back, and exhaled a sigh while shaking her head.

“What?” Harry chuckled and she shrugged while smiling, “Nothing. You just… you’re so blunt.”

“I speak my mind.” He admitted and she hummed, “Very unapologetic.”

Harry leaned his head against the back of the couch, covered by a chequered blanket, “Is that Dr. Phil speaking or just you?”

Mia fought her giggle, “Just me.”

“I think I prefer just you over therapist Mia.” Harry murmured. Mia’s face fell a little and she glanced down before nodding, “Me too.”

Harry pressed his lips together as he drew a breath, “Do you like it? Psychology?”

“Yes.” Her answer was immediate and rehearsed and Harry turned his body towards her a little more, his tea sloshing around the cup, “Do you really?”

Mia blinked, unsure if anyone had ever asked her that question twice, and her composure faltered, “I don’t know.” She mumbled, “I’ve just started, so it’s a little hard to tell.”

“Is it really?” Harry frowned, “I mean, you’re giving these therapy sessions. Do you like that?”

“I don’t know.” Mia spoke again and Harry sighed out in thought, “Was there ever anything else you wanted to do?”

Mia smiled softly and nodded, “I did. I’ve always wanted to be a surgeon. It’s not very realistic, I could never do that,” She chuckled while shrugging, “but it was sort of a dream.” Mia swallowed, “I had a bit of a reality check when starting uni, realising they cut me a lot of slack in high school and… well, I’m not that great of a student.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked and Mia shrugged, avoiding his eyes, “My grades aren’t all that amazing. I-I’m trying a lot, to lift them. I study so much.” Mia sighed, tiredly resting her head. Harry frowned as he took her in, seeing how tired she actually was. Exhausted. She masked it easily with her smile and her big eyes, but Mia was tired. 

“Have you ever considered doing something else?” Harry proposed and Mia flicked her eyes up to see him, “Like what?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know. There’s lots of things that you can do. What do you want to do? What seems realistic? What’s interesting to you?”

Mia opened her mouth but nothing came out, unsure of how to answer Harry’s array of questions. Once again, it was something no one had really asked her before he did. Harry noticed her hesitance, “How did you choose psychology? What made you pick it?”

He was curious about her reasons since he didn’t feel a passion radiating from her. She almost knew more about philosophy, even agreeing with him on certain points where he’d had heated discussions about with fellow psychologists. If this was really where she was at, he could imagine her not enjoying lots of her classes if she didn’t even agree with her professors.

Mia thought about his question. What made her pick psychology? The thing was that she didn’t, her parents did. She had never truly felt a passion towards it, but forced herself to like it because it’s what they wanted for her and they found it an appropriate field.

After talking to both Hazel and Harry quite a bit, she realised how interesting philosophy was, and she sometimes craved following those lessons more than her own. She couldn’t imagine the disgust on her parent’s faces though if she’d ever suggest something like that. Philosophy was a field without prospects, according to them.

“I-I didn’t really pick it.” Mia carefully mumbled, staring down at her fingers. Harry didn’t say anything, giving her the time to think about her words and Mia took a breath, “My parents… they thought it’d be something good for me.”

She didn’t exactly dare looking at Harry. Saying the words made it sound so stupid, and she wondered if he thought she was weak when speaking them. Harry could only really stare at her with a shocked expression. He had heard of many parents nudging their children in certain directions. Obviously, parents knew their children. If someone wanted to do a field that was way beyond their level, parents could give advice. But that’s what they were supposed to do; give advice. Not choose in their place.

Not like they had done for Mia. Harry really tried to give them a fair shot, but they had already fucked up tremendously in his book. He wondered how happy she’d be if she studied something she enjoyed and was passionate about. How much more lively she’d be, how much more bright than she already was.

“They just… decided?” Harry carefully asked and Mia nodded quickly, “Yeah. They did.”

He huffed out in disbelief, “Mia… they can’t just do that. Aren’t they supposed to let you try and figure it out? Not many people know instantly what they wanna be when they’re older, or what they want to study. It’s why so many people fail their first year. And it’s not a crime to fail or to choose something else, to find something that’s better for you. The system is designed for you to have room for failure. Who knows what they want for the rest of their lives at eighteen? No one.”

The word failing made Mia near tremble, but she frowned at Harry’s words. She had never thought of it that way. “I-I thought they just wanted the best for me.” She mumbled, “That they knew me best.”

“They probably do want the best for you.” Harry nodded, “But I don’t think they know you best, I think you know you best. Like I said, nothing wrong with wiggle room to figure things out.”

They fell into a silence, Mia thinking about Harry’s words intently as he watched her get lost in thought. He scooted a little closer on the couch, “Do they do that a lot? Decide things for you?”

Mia shamefully looked down, one big thing coming to mind that maybe she felt like Harry should know about. He saw the reactions he gave and frowned a little deeper, “Mia?”

She sighed and lifted her head, “They’ve kind of decided who I’m going to end up with.”

Harry blinked a few times, feeling like the air got punched out of his lungs. Did he really develop a crush on someone he had no chance with? Who was taken? He had never even considered the fact she might be dating someone else or – god forbid – have a boyfriend back home.

“W-What do you mean?” He asked and Mia sighed again, pressing her lips together, “They want me to end up with Daniel. He’s my age, the son of a family friend and business partner of my dad.”

Harry exhaled a shaky breath, “Daniel…”

“Yeah.” Mia murmured, “I-I’ve met him a few times. He’s – uh… nice.” She voiced carefully. She didn’t actually know him all that well and the thought of him made her scrunch her nose up.

Harry frowned deeper, unsure of what Mia was trying to say as he swallowed thickly, “You like him?”

“Sure.” She shrugged before catching the pained look in Harry’s eyes and realising what she said. She gasped, “Oh – god, no. Well, n-not like that. I don’t like like him.” She quickly added. Harry lifted his eyes, “You don’t?”

“No.” Mia quickly shook her head, “I don’t really know him. He seems really… serious. I don’t know.”

Harry nodded slowly, processing the amount of information he had received already. “And what is something you’re looking for then?”

Mia took a breath as she pondered his question and eventually shrugged, “I-I think it’s nice when you can laugh with someone. I’m not – uh…” She searched for words, “naturally the most funny person. But I think it’s nice when you can smile with someone. I like to smile.

Harry’s lips involuntarily curled up at her words. He couldn’t get over how adorable and cute she was and she really just wanted to scoop her up and wrap his arms around him. He dug his hand into the couch cushion instead, leaning his head to the side, “Hmm. You’re really pretty when you smile.”

“Harry.” She blushed bashfully, hiding her smile by biting her lip and casting her eyes down, playing with her fingers. He smirked a little at her shy reaction and held his breath when reaching a hand out. Mia’s eyes widened when she saw the hand slowly approaching, and she lifted her eyes in surprise.

Harry’s touch was tender, pads of his fingertips brushing over the skin of her face. He traced her eyebrow, the shape of her nose and her cupid’s bow, making her stare at him in a trance. Mia was leaning forward before she realised it, completely hunched over towards Harry as if his magic hand was coaxing her into his space.

“What happens when you end up liking someone else?” Harry whispered, coming up with the same question Hazel did earlier. Mia just stared at him, her ears filled with stardust to the point she hadn’t even heard his voice. She gasped in a soft breath when his thumb gently tapped her bottom lip before dragging down to her chin, tilting her head up ever so softly, “Hm?”

“W-What?” She croaked out. Harry smiled, butterflies erupting through his entire body as he stared at her with hearts in his eyes, “I asked what happens when you end up liking someone else.”

“I don’t know.” Mia whispered back, “I like you.”

She didn’t realise what she had said until she saw the raise of Harry’s brows and the way his smile got wider, “Yeah?”

“Oh.” Mia straightened up, snapped out of her trance in a second as she looked at him with horror in her eyes, “Oh god.” She groaned to herself, crawling away on the couch to the far end, only making Harry laugh louder at her behaviour when she hid from him at her sudden confession.

It wasn’t fair, really. It was like he had hypnotised her and she had no control over her words, brain and body. Especially not her body. The dull throb between her legs felt slightly uncomfortable and Mia clenched her thighs together at the unfamiliar feeling.

His green eyes had coaxed that secret truth from between her lips, and Harry felt his heart fluttering as she shied away from him after the confession. He followed her body to the other end of the couch, hesitating slightly before placing both hands on her drawn up knees to get her attention.

“Mia.” He murmured with a grin, breathing out a chuckle when she winced and he brought one hand up to pry her hands away from her face. She dropped them and revealed her pink skin as she glanced up at him through her lashes, “Sorry.”

He still had both hands on her knees, leaning in a little bit until he popped his chin up on one, staring at her, “What’re you sorry for?”

She nibbled her lip nervously and shrugged, nearly unable to look him in the eye. She felt utterly stupid and childish, and she wondered if Harry did the same. She wanted to be bubbly and confident and sexy and adventurous, the type of girl who’d have a spontaneous escapade in a library with a fellow student with the risk of getting caught – but she just wasn’t.

And she couldn’t help but wonder if she was even remotely Harry’s type.

Harry could see the wheels in her head spinning and after a little more squirming from her, he decided to put her out of her misery. He licked his bottom lip, nerves coursing through his veins, “I like you too.”

Mia felt like she’d sleep all through tomorrow from how intense this night had been. She was exhausted, but her heart was hammering as she blinked at Harry, lazily leaning on her knees and taking in her shocked reaction. His smile grew with seconds as the flush rose up her neck and she stupidly giggled, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Harry laughed a little before shaking his head, “I’d like to take you out.” The tea was long forgotten when Harry asked her the question Mia had been fantasising about. He was being a perfect gentleman about it too and she sucked in a short breath, “I’m – okay. Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Harry chuckled and she eagerly nodded, “Yeah. B-But we’re still doing the sessions?”

“True.” Harry mumbled, “Maybe after the sessions are over then. Gives us plenty of time to get to know one another. Who knows, you might find out something about me that sets you off.” Harry joked but his words held truth. He was terrified after spilling his feelings that had never come so early for someone ever before.

He’d only had a handful of conversations with Mia, but it was just something he felt. He felt drawn to her, attracted. And not just because she was gorgeous to look at, but the way she carried herself. She was interesting, and she was smarter than most people he had ever met. Their little discussions about philosophy energised him so much, even making the entire subject more of interest to him.

Like he couldn’t wait to read about the stuff she spoke about to learn more about her point of view and broaden his own horizons. Harry felt like he wanted to know everything about her, from the way she felt to the way he thought.

Shortly after both making their confessions, Harry decided to leave Mia alone so she could sleep. Her lids had become droopy and even though he secretly hoped she’d invite him to stay the night just so he could hold her warm body to his – she didn’t. Part of him knew she wouldn’t, it would all be way too quick and what he wanted with her could wait. It was special, he wanted to take his time and not rush into the physical aspect – which was the mistake he usually made – and just give her time and space to be comfortable around him.

With the book tucked under his arm, he roamed the wet streets of the campus until walking up into his student house. The lights were still on and he walked in to see Liam and Niall eating some leftover pizza at the table. They looked like they just got home from the bar, their brows up when they saw Harry walking in.

“Hey. There you are.” Niall smirked while Harry couldn’t wipe the broad smile off of his lips. He shrugged off his wet coat and took off his beanie, not feeling cold at all after the kiss he left on Mia’s cheek at her door, leaving her with a giddy smile and glimmering eyes before he walked two floors down to exit her building.

“Yeah.” Harry chuckled, kicking off his shoes and reaching for a piece of pizza.

Liam narrowed his eyes, “You really only look this happy when you’ve gotten laid.”

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Not true.”

“Niall,” Liam spoke, diverting his attention to their third roommate.

Niall popped his chin up on his hands to stare at Liam intently, “Yes, my darling.”

“Twat.” Liam chuckled before clearing his throat, “Tell me, have you ever seen young Harold this smiley?”

Harry rolled his eyes again while grabbing some cold water from the fridge. He felt like he needed to cool down. Just being in Mia’s presence set his skin on fire for some reason, and it didn’t feel like any amount of cold rain could dose it. It was inside of him. He quickly gulped down some of the cold liquid, trying to forget what she smelled like when he was so close to him.

Her shampoo was something floral, matching her just perfectly for some reason. Like a delicate flower, she was so… soft and pretty. His entire thought process revolved around Mia and he could safely say he had never felt a crush like this before.

“I have not.” Niall spoke in a fake posh accent, “What should we make of this, sir Liam?”

“That our young Harold has a big fat crush on some girl way out of his league.” Liam joked and Harry swiftly turned around with a glare, “Hey!”

Liam cackled out while Niall joined him, teasing their friend to no end as Harry just huffed under his breath. Liam caught his breath and leaned his elbows on the table, “So what happened then? Why didn’t you introduce her to us?”

“Seriously?” Harry raised his brows before nudging his chin in their directions, “Because of this, you idiots. You’d scare her away.”

“Ah, come on,” Niall retorted, “we’re perfectly nice! She’d love us.”

Harry shrugged, not really having any more answer to their question. He supposed he liked being in this little bubble with her. He knew what all his friends were going to think. They’d like her, for sure, but they’d be wary because she was nothing like the girls he usually went for and he didn’t want his mates to scare her off by their inappropriate behaviour.

He wanted to get to know Mia on his own a little at first. After all, he hadn’t even known her a full week yet his body turned to liquid whenever she smiled at him. 

“Which one was she again?” He heard Niall whispering to Liam, who whispered back, “The brunette with the flower top on.”

Harry turned around in time to see Niall nodding in recognition and he then flicked his eyes to Harry, “She must’ve been special, you didn’t even say goodbye to your best friends.” He scoffed.

“You’re so dramatic.” Harry rolled his eyes and Niall arched up an eyebrow, “Do you talk to her like that?”

“What?” Harry chuckled before shaking his head, knowing for sure he’d never talk to Mia like that. He just turned into some mushy sap whenever she was around him. 

All throughout the weekend, Harry found himself counting down the minutes until Tuesday. He read her book the entire time, paying special attention to the highlighted passages where some had exclamation points next to it or were crookedly underlined in pencil. For someone that neat, the book was chaotic. Harry never thought Mia would be the one to highlight in a book without a liner, or that she’d use permanent ink to write something down.

He found himself admiring even the way she wrote. 

They texted back and forth in the days before their therapy session, both of their friends noticing immediately how the other was so happy and giddy.

Mia spilled the entire thing to Hazel the moment they both woke up on Saturday, while Harry kept more to himself. He wasn’t that much of an open book overall, had always learned to kind of keep his thoughts to himself and not take up too much space.

So when Mia had finished her classes on Tuesday, she had a bounce in her step when hurrying over into the North building. She and Harry decided to meet there after her first session and then head to the library together. All the while the girl was speaking to Mia – the girl who had to come in before Harry – she found that she was hardly listening.

She felt bad, letting her emotions get in the way of being a decent therapist, but she had a feeling the girl didn’t really mind that she was basically talking to a wall.

Mia didn’t even care that she hadn’t understood a single thing of her final class of the day – statistical methods for psychological research – and made a mental note to find tutoring sessions for that one too. She had to remember that they had an assignment due next week. It was something Mia had slightly forgotten about since her weekend was spent dreaming about Harry.

Literally dreaming.

Friday after going to bed, she couldn’t help but feel cold under the sheets as she had somehow wished she had been spontaneous enough to take the leap and invite him to stay the night. She had felt a little bad, sending him home in weather like that. But Harry didn’t want to overstep and Mia was too shy, so they both went their separate ways.

Only to be reunited once more today.

Harry had to admit he had looked for her on Monday during lunch, scanning the cafeteria all the way – even the trash table – but there had been no sight of his Mia sitting alone for lunch. Louis had pouted next to him, claiming he had been really looking forward to seeing the girl who had Harry’s balls twisted together.

But Mia was nowhere to be seen. When Harry texted her, she said she only had classes in the morning and then a free period, so she went to eat at home and then would come back to study at the library.

The library, where they’d go together today to check out the broken bookcase, all due to Harry.

Mia’s stomach twisted a little when thinking about it, him so intimate with someone else. She liked to think that she was the first one having certain fantasies about him, the first one who got to know him. Because he was the first one getting to know her. But Harry had been had by others, and Mia wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

It was natural of course, she felt. She couldn’t hold it against him that he had a life before meeting her. That he enjoyed that life with whomever he saw fit. It still felt surreal that he had said he liked her out of all people.

She had spoken to Hazel a little more about him in the weekend, yet Hazel really couldn’t give her much information. Harry wasn’t unfriendly to her, but he was just quiet and kind of to himself. She knew of his friends a little more since they were louder and more popular, but Harry was mostly known as their friend.

And the library thing.

Mia eagerly checked her phone to check the hour as she sat in her seat in room two, waiting for him. She already had her coat on and everything packed after having used Harry’s notebook and pen again for her previous session.

A soft knock on the door made her heart jump and Mia got up from the chair, quickly opening it.

She couldn’t help the happy giggle escaping her throat when she saw him on the other end, breathless and pink cheeks from running all the way here.

“Hey.” He chuckled and she smiled wide, “Hi. Ready to go?”

Harry’s face fell as he winced a little, “Do we have to? Can’t we just… stay here and talk?”

Mia pressed her lips together, completely ready to give into Harry’s question and quickly nod, but she did have certain responsibilities with these therapy sessions. Nibbling her lip, she tilted her head to the side and Harry knew she was about to reject his offer, so he just softly pouted.

Mia felt her insides firing up at the sight of his plump bottom lip pouting out. Mia had never before kissed anyone, but she felt a constant urge to just touch Harry’s lips. With her own. Over and over again. It was a strange lust to feel, the idea of wanting to taste someone. She couldn’t explain what it was, why she wanted it so bad, why she dreamed of it and got completely hypnotised by the sight of his lips.

She had been taken back to that moment he touched her lip and stared at her so intently, many times. Usually it woke her up with a gasp as she stifled her moan, completely embarrassed by how hot and bothered she felt with that on her mind.

Harry wore his dark beanie again, just a few tendrils of soft hair sticking out of the fabric. 

He exhaled a breath, “Alright, show me the way, Dr. Phil.” He teased her a little with the nickname and Mia chuckled at him, walking outside with him with her bag over her shoulder. Part of her felt slightly nervous walking around campus with him for everyone to see. Not that people paid attention or that they really minded, Mia felt, and they were just walking next to one another, but it felt like a step.

“So what’s really the point of this?” Harry grumbled, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he walked next to Mia on their way to the library, across the campus grounds.

Mia chuckled and shrugged, bundling her scarf a little tighter around her. The wisps escaping her braid tickled her forehead, “I just thought it might be nice to get out of the room for a bit, go see the place where – uh… it happened.”

“It?”

Mia winced under her breath, shaking her head to herself, “Don’t make me say it.” She murmured.

Harry breathed out a playful laugh, gently pressing his palm into her lower back as an affectionate touch that nearly made Mia buckle through her knee as they walked through campus. She smiled along at their changed dynamic and how Harry really had no red flags in her book.

Hazel had explained that to her, the red flags. After explaining her conversation with Tyler, it turned out he had a bunch of them. Randomly walking up to someone in a bar – all confident and stuff – was one of them apparently. Mia felt like Hazel had been extra harsh on Tyler after Mia explained how he made her feel during that short conversation.

Unsafe. Uncomfortable. Small.

So Hazel was angry, cursing him out and using words Mia didn’t feel like repeating. After going through all the usual insults that made Mia’s eyes widen, Hazel turned to silly, self-made insults that quickly made Mia giggle and laugh. Eventually they were both laughing and rolling around the couch. 

“Dickbutt!” Hazel had shrieked, making Mia cackle out and clutch her stomach as the pair laughed around. Mia had never imagined she could laugh about a situation like that. It truly only hit her when Harry had left and the butterflies in her tummy had settled a bit. There was an underlying discomfort there, and Mia started wondering for the first time what would’ve happened if Harry hadn’t intervened.

Well, Mia knew what would’ve happened. She would’ve given Tyler her number in an attempt to satisfy him and get him to leave her alone.

It was another thing she talked about to Hazel – really opening up to her this weekend. Mia had padded into Hazel’s room with a small voice, carefully asking what men felt like flirting was. Maybe Tyler picked up some signals Mia didn’t mean to send? Maybe she gave off the wrong idea?

Hazel pulled her into a hug at that and they cuddled in her bed. Hazel was no Harry, but somehow she was even better. Mia felt a very strong connection to her, and she had quickly become her best friend and confidant. It was a nice bonus for having a nice roommate, that they got along so well and it just worked. Neither of them were perfect, but they kept the other’s feelings into account.

Mia couldn’t believe how nice Hazel’s friends had been, and apparently they had all liked her too. Mia beamed at that. The thought that people liked her and didn’t fake their smiles or didn’t have to try too hard to have a conversation with her, warmed her heart. All her life she had been told she wasn’t very sociable and she was a bit of a nerd. Her parents fed into that, near shoving her nose between the books.

Now that it turned out she wasn’t that great of a student either, Mia had been struggling a little with what she was supposed to be good at then.

“We’re here.” Mia smiled once they stood in front of the library building. Harry glanced at it warily and with little enthusiasm while Mia was near bouncing on her feet. She had to admit she really liked the library. It was a very safe space for her and she had spent countless hours studying here already. 

Opening up the thick, heavy doors, they were met with a comfortable warmth that made Mia’s insides bubble a little bit. This time she wasn’t here to instantly walk up to her favourite study spot – always a little bouncy and giddy when she noticed no one had taken it yet – but they were here for Harry.

“Hi Myriam.” Mia whispered silently to the lady working the front desk of the library. Myriam was around seventy and had worked here her entire life. She had glasses on her nose and her hair was silver, her lips bright red. Her face lit up when she spotted Mia, “Mia, darling!” She grinned wide before her face fell and she noticed Harry, “Mister Sinclair.” She greeted.

“Hey.” He mumbled and she shot him a critical look over the rim of her glasses, “Come to destroy something else?”

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance and Mia bit her lip to hide her laugh before she gently tugged on the sleeve of his coat, “Come on.” She whispered.

Harry sighed in little enthusiasm and followed Mia around the library as she took turns and walked them through nooks he had never seen here before. Honestly, Harry had only been in here a handful of times when he had to read something for his classes. He usually studied together with his friends in their own student home or he went to some coffee bar.

Maybe that’s where it went wrong and why he blew his first year, Harry suddenly thought. He watched as Mia’s eyes scanned the racks of books and she comfortably walked around the library, knowing every turn and every section by heart. He mindlessly trailed behind her, not even looking around much but keeping his eyes on her.

They were on the ground floor still, where the regular books were. They passed the young-adult section and the science stuff before bumping into some philosophy books.

Mia smiled wider when she noticed the Maya Angelou book in the case, her finger pulling at the spine to check it out just like Harry had seen her do in her bedroom a few days prior. He leaned against the bookcase as Mia inspected the spotless copy of why the caged bird sings.

“Have you started it?” Mia softly asked and Harry smiled softly before nodding, tucking one hand in the pocket of his jeans as he leaned his head against the bookcase too, staring at her, “I have. Read it all weekend.”

Her eyes grew twice their size and if Harry really focussed, he swore he could see little beating hearts in them. Mia clutched the book to her chest bashfully and bit her lip as she smiled wide and shy, “Y-You did?”

“Yeah.” Harry whispered, “It’s really good. I like seeing the passages you highlighted. I read over them a couple of times because I know they were important to you.”

Mia swooned, also clumsily leaning into the bookcase as she stared up at Harry as if he was the only thing she had ever seen. Her heart was bursting out of its seams at the words he spoke. It was all she ever wanted, for someone to show such a true interest in her and not make fun of her or think she was weird. Harry ran with all the little quirks of her he had seen so far and none seemed to have scared him off yet.

He was so open, and it caused her to be so open too. They stood closely together between the books in a silent library, shielded away from the outside world.

Harry softly cleared his throat, his eyes dancing over Mia’s delicate features, “To be left alone on the tightrope of youthful unknowing is to experience the excruciating beauty of full freedom and the threat of eternal indecision.” He casually quoted. Mia stared at him without blinking, her mouth softly parted and Harry shot her a lopsided smile, “That one stuck with me.”

“W-What else?” She croaked out. Harry hummed softly and brought his hand up, focussing on the way his fingers brushed her temple and Mia’s knees felt weak. She was thankful for the bookcase that she had her shoulder and hip against, and for the book she was tightly clutching between her fingers – desperate to hold onto something. If he kept doing what he was doing and saying what he was saying, she’d for sure break the spine of it in two and Myriam would have her pay for it.

But it was all worth it. It was all worth it as long as Harry continued quoting her favourite book to her in the middle of her favourite place. 

“The caged bird sings with a fearful trill,” Harry started in a soft voice, and Mia knew exactly what part of the book he was quoting. Harry took a breath and continued, “of things unknown, but longed for still. And his tune is heard on the distant hill, for the caged bird sings of freedom.

“You reminded me of the caged bird a little.” He continued softly whispering. There were no students studying around them, they didn’t have to be quiet, yet they were both whispering and careful of the air around them breaking.

Mia raised her brows, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly when Harry tucked a loose wavy strand of brown hair behind her ear, “Hm.” He continued, “After what you told me on Friday… I mean, I know it’s totally different, but it did make me think of you.”

Mia couldn’t speak. She was mesmerised, hypnotised and everything in between. She realised how badly she wanted to put her hands on him. How badly she wanted to run her fingers up his chest, preferably underneath the layers of clothes he wore. To feel his warmth, his skin, his little imperfections she knew he was bound to have.

He was so imperfectly perfect. And not being able to touch him right now was complete torture. Her hands gripped the poor book harder. 

Harry licked his bottom lip and dropped his hand, “I feel like… you feel like you’re too much. And it’s why you let yourself be silenced.” His voice was so soft, raspy and gentle. Mia heard him, she truly did. His words hit her hard and she blinked a couple of times, yet still unable to look away from his perfect, gorgeous green eyes.

He voiced it perfectly, the way she felt. Mia pressed her lips together and swallowed, giving him the shortest, tiniest nod which she wasn’t even sure Harry noticed, but he of course did. She admitted it, confirmed it, that she did. She felt like she was too much. Like she asked too much, spoke too much, took up too much room.

Harry swallowed thickly and nodded to himself, “I feel that about myself too.” He added in a murmur.

Mia’s lips opened again when she heard him. She felt like Harry was also trying his hardest not to break the eye contact, to keep this moment vulnerable as it was, to keep it so strong between them right now.

Mia’s fingers hurt when she released one hand from the book, dropping it to her side before blindly reaching for Harry’s hand. She realised it was the first time she had seen him blush, even if it was just slightly and even if it wasn’t half as bad as how much she was blushing, but she still felt like it was cute.

“D-Do you know what Hazel always says to me?” Mia whispered. Harry leaned into her a little more, his nose inches from hers as he managed to shake his head. Mia took a breath, “She says… you’ll never be too much for someone who can’t get enough of you.”

His fingers felt warm against hers. Long, bony, tattooed and gently grazing her own as the two of them touched. It felt delicate, the brushing of his fingers against hers. Not really holding hands, not tightly grasping at one another, just softly stroking over skin that touched so many things throughout the day, but never something as precious as the other.

Harry wanted to kiss her. More than he’d ever wanted anything before and probably more than he’d ever want anything in his future. He wanted to kiss her right now. He wanted to taste her lips, already knowing she’d taste like cinnamon and forest fruit tea and cherry lip balm and that he’d smell her floral shampoo and that being close to her would be an explosion of warmth and safety and excitement and he’d be done for life.

It was too soon to say he wanted to spend all his remaining days with her. They had only known each other for a week, but she had become so important to him. Harry didn’t think he had ever connected to someone like this.

He hated it when his friends called him out on his grumpiness, but they were right. He was moody, easily annoyed, easily frustrated. Harry wouldn’t say he had anger issues, but he would say he was impatient. But never with Mia. He felt like he could watch her forever, clumsily trying to put on her coat only to realise she put her arm through the wrong sleeve and had to redo the process all over again.

They were young, but he just felt it. That she was his soulmate. And it was scary, but most of all it was exciting. And he wanted to show her what she meant to him and how much he truly liked her.

The only thing was, that he didn’t want to do it here. Not in the library. Not in the place she and him both associated with him sleeping with someone else. Not in the place that brought them together in the first place, where he had committed his sins that led to her.

Mia deserved better than that, she deserved the whole entire world.

So they didn’t kiss. Mia felt a little odd about it. She was too shy to initiate it, but she would’ve thought Harry felt the same way and that he would’ve made the move. She wanted her first to be him, her first everything. She had never felt like this before.

But Harry didn’t kiss her. And even if Mia felt a slight tinge of disappointment in her tummy, she knew there was a very valid possibility that Harry was maybe nervous too. Or that he didn’t want that during their therapy session. Or in this library where he had done it with someone else.

They broke apart after a while, both their hands disappearing back into their own pockets as they started roaming the library more. Mia brought them up to the first floor to show Harry her favourite study spot. It was empty and he smiled when he saw it, immediately visualising her sitting there with her nose between her books. A frown on her forehead, focussed on reading the words letter by letter and taking in all the information.

She’d have her thermos of tea with her and a thick sweater to bundle herself in, braid hanging over her back as she probably had his pink sparkly pen between her lips. 

“So then I sit here.” Mia smiled while walking up to her regular chair. She put her hands on the back of it, near the end of the table with her back towards bookcases and in front of her some room and then a window. Harry remembered her talking about that.

He chuckled as she tapped the back of the chair and ran her hand over the wooden structure of it gently. Harry walked up to the window, seeing the rainy campus grounds and even his own student building in the distance. He nodded to himself, “It’s nice. I get why it comforts you.”

Mia walked up next to him with her arms crossed in front of her chest, following his gaze, “It’s quiet.”

“It is.” Harry nodded in a whisper before exhaling a deep breath, “I’ve never looked at it like that.”

Mia nibbled her lip, standing still next to Harry, “How did you look at it then?”

Harry left a little silence. He never thought the library of all places would be the place he felt like he’d open up his heart to Mia. That this was where he’d be his most vulnerable. He swallowed thickly, “It felt deafening.”

The knot in Mia’s stomach tightened. Her hands were clasped together behind her back now as she followed the figure of a student crossing the campus grounds in a hurry to get out of the rain, “You don’t do well with silence?”

“Had too much of it growing up. I know it seems insane that I want to live with two other guys who are so loud and present all the time. But I secretly love it.” Harry spilled it all and Mia pressed her lips together more tightly. She didn’t know what to answer.

Harry didn’t exactly expect an answer either, he continued staring ahead of himself as his feelings bubbled up to the surface. He licked his lips, “I grew up with a disabled brother, did you know?”

Mia finally turned her head to look at Harry. She saw his side profile, eyes still focussed outside. Harry followed a dropping raindrop that fell down the window, all the way until it disappeared in a puddle at the bottom of the windowsill. 

“He’s a few years younger than me, Edward.” Harry murmured, “But he required constant care ever since birth. He’s great, and I really do love him. B-But…” His voice died down and he nibbled his lip. Mia continued looking at him, seeing the strange emotions in Harry’s eyes even if he didn’t directly look at her.

There was disappointment, guilt and confusion. Mia drew a breath, “But you grew up without your parents.” She softly finished his sentence. Harry didn’t look at her, swallowing thickly as he kept his eyes locked outside. Mia dropped her arms, turning to face him as she reached for his hand again.

This time it wasn’t a soft brush of fingertips, this time she held his hand. She laced their fingers together firmly, with confidence, with emotions to try and console him even if he had trouble opening up. Harry’s jaw clenched and he exhaled through his nostrils, feeling the tight lump in his throat.

It felt comforting, for Mia to hold his hand like this. So simple, yet meaningful. As his friend. 

“Maybe that’s enough for today.” Mia whispered, gently rubbing her thumb into the back of his hand. Harry couldn’t blink, couldn’t look at her if he wanted to refrain from breaking down in the middle of the library. 

He had never had much trouble talking about Edward. He didn’t even know why he did right now, what was different. Why it took him so much effort to say the words to Mia. 

Harry eventually sniffed and gave Mia’s hand a squeeze back, finally turning to face her. She could see the small tears wetting his waterline – which he blinked away harshly – before letting out a soft chuckle, “Great job today, Dr. Phil.”

Her lip curled up into a small smile and eventually their hands broke apart.

Harry felt warm.

----------

“So, Mia, tell me how it’s been going?” Professor Dillon asked while scanning his eyes over the notes she had sent him. 

Mia shifted on her seat, fiddling her thumbs together nervously, “I-I think it’s been going okay.”

Professor Dillon cast his eyes up, “No need to be nervous, Mia. This is just a chat to see how you’ve been feeling giving therapy.”

Mia nodded and drew a breath, “It’s definitely been interesting, so far.” She forced out, although it was a slight lie. The longer these sessions went on, the more she wished she had that time to study.

Professor Dillon nodded, “Did you really do some exposure therapy yesterday? With the Sinclair kid?”

“Yeah.” Mia smiled, “I-I took him to the library.”

He let out a chuckle, “That’s nice, taking initiative to change it up. I like that.”

Mia blushed a little. She hadn’t mentioned anything Harry had told her in the library, in her notes. She just wrote down that she took him to the library to get out of the familiar room number two. That was two days ago, and she had more sessions in a minute.

Mia tried to listen to professor Dillon, she really did, but what she really wanted was to see Harry.

Their texting had turned into calling and late night talking as she pushed away her studying books and laid on her bed, chatting to him about her day and they discussed Maya Angelou and philosophy.

Hazel had noticed how smiley she had been, and Mia had been briefly introduced to some of Harry’s friends through the phone before he locked himself in his room to get away from them.

They didn’t talk much more about Harry’s confession. Mia wanted to give him time to open up about it on his own terms, but she tried to show that she listened to him that day. Not as his therapist, but as his friend and the girl he was getting to know. 

“You think you can almost give him a diagnosis?” Professor Dillon and Mia lost her train of thought, blinking up at him, “A diagnosis?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, pushing the notes together to leave them in a neat pile on the desk separating them, “Like make some statements, wrap it up a little bit. Therapists do more than just listen, Mia. They give structure to the other person’s thoughts when they can’t do that themselves. People always have a motive for how they behave and sometimes it’s your job to give that motive a name and confront them a little.”

Mia’s throat felt a little dry when she found herself disagreeing completely with him. Harry’s words rang through her mind, about doing stuff because they wanted to. Without reason, without logical explanation. And maybe that wasn’t for others to understand, and maybe that was okay.

“I really think you should try that today.” Professor Dillon pushed, “he’s coming in later, right?”

Mia nodded slowly, “Yes. In like ten minutes.”

“Good.” He smiled, “You should give it a try. Maybe you’re completely wrong, but that’s okay. He’ll correct you if he needs it. I’m gonna actually follow this one along through the monitors if that’s okay. Observe a little and give you feedback afterwards.”

Her brows raised, “You’re going to watch?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “I do it with all the students, to give them pointers. I’d like to see you try and make a conclusion about his case, though. We’re halfway through his sessions so you should start getting a pretty good grip on this guy’s mind.”

Mia lowered her eyes, feeling almost… yucky doing this to Harry. She didn’t want to. She wanted to enter that room as Mia and talk to him as Mia. As his Mia, the one he liked. She didn’t want to push and confront him, she wanted to give him time. She didn’t feel like Harry needed confronting.

“I mean, I can almost give you on a silver platter what the reason will be.” The professor continued, leaning back in his big leather chair, “It’s almost always the same reason with these kids.”

Mia frowned in confusion and glanced at him, “It is?”

“Mhm.” He nodded before shooting her a brief smile, “Attention.”

Mia disagreed even more, feeling as the crease between her frown deepened while professor Dillon nodded to himself, “You don’t have to teach me about these kids, Mia. I know them through and through.”

She felt herself tensing up and forced him a small tight-lipped smile. They wrapped up the talk and Mia was allowed to leave and head for room two where Harry would be waiting for her.

He was in his usual large grey jumper with the beanie covering his curls. A piece of gum was in his mouth as Harry slowly paced around the room, looking out the window a little as he waited for Mia. His body was bubbling with anxiety that he got to see her again. So far, they had decided to hold off on dating until these sessions were done but with each passing minute he spent with her, he just fell harder.

He wanted to take her out, spoil her, and kiss her until they both couldn’t breathe while running his hands everywhere she’d allow him. God, his hands were itching to just grab her and pull her into him. He craved the feeling of her body, dreaming of how she’d feel, how she’d smell, how she’d taste. 

It was driving him completely insane.

So when the door opened and a breathless Mia walked through, Harry couldn’t stop the wide grin from forming on his lips immediately, “H-Hey.” He stuttered. It was almost as if time stood still. Mia wore black skinny jeans and a jumper nearly as big as his. It swallowed her whole and he could see the rolled up sleeves where her fingers just peeked through.

The pink sparkly pen stood out against the dark navy of her clothing and she smiled back at him, “Hi.”

Harry’s smile disappeared a little at her lack of energy, and he immediately tensed up a tiny bit. Mia closed the door behind him and took a short glance at the camera in the corner of the room before she cleared her throat and moved to her seat, “Just so you know, professor Dillon is watching, and listening along.”

A soft chuckle left Harry’s lips, right away understanding why she was a little more distant. He nodded at her words, especially the emphasis on the word listening. Both Mia and Harry knew that this was a great opportunity for him to have her squirm a little. To put her through the wringer, to ask her difficult – probably sexual – questions and mess with her.

But Harry’s heart had grown twice its size since meeting Mia and he didn’t have it in himself anymore to play with her while so much was at stake for her. For him, this was more or less a joke – these therapy sessions that the school forced him to do – but for Mia, she needed the extra credit.

So Harry just nodded and sat down, “Alright. How are you?”

Mia smiled up at him, eyes lingering on the way his jaw flexed with each nibble on the gum, “I-I’m good. You?”

Harry smirked a little and leaned back in the chair, “Great.”

He blamed the nerves for Mia not offering him tea this time, and they pretty soon just started talking about everything. Mia asked him how he had experienced going to the library earlier this week, and Harry came up with some bullshit story about facing that broken bookcase and feeling bad about what he had done.

Mia could hardly hold her laughter, because the both of them knew they didn’t even go see the bookcase. They stayed on the first floor by Mia’s study spot and stared out the window as Harry spilled his childhood trauma on her. And they held hands. Harry felt like that was a very important piece of information to add.

They chattered for at least half an hour, Mia having a much more professional attitude this time. But it also could’ve had something to do with the fact that Harry wasn’t constantly flirting with her or making her blush.

Mia shifted, changing her legs around as she clicked her pen twice, “So – uh… we started this way the first session, and now that we’re about halfway through… I wondered if you’d given any more thought as to why you did what you did?” She questioned.

Harry frowned and thought of it for a moment, remembering they had that discussion the first time they met. He nibbled his lip and shrugged, “Not really. I still think I just did it because I wanted to and felt like it. No underlying motive.” He joked a little and Mia forced him a small smile, but she looked nervous.

Mia clicked her pen again and then drew a breath, “Well – we’re always trying to find a motive.” She spoke with a little bit of instability in his voice, “S-So I was wondering if it’d be alright with you if I tried to voice one.”

“A motive?” Harry raised his brows in surprise and Mia nodded shortly, “Yes.”

He chuckled, “Sure, knock yourself out.”

“Okay.” Mia breathed, biting down on her lip again as she stared at her lap. She took another breath and lifted her eyes to look at me, a certain emotion behind her eyes as she swallowed, “I-I think… uh… I think you wanted to feel seen.”

Harry stiffened slightly in the seat, not moving or saying anything as there was a short silence between the two. Mia gazed up at him and then continued, her fingers nervously clasping together, “I think you wanted to feel seen, and m-maybe that’s why you acted out? Or did something you knew would stir some… reaction.”

Harry felt his frown deepening, his heart rate picking up as he couldn’t really react. Mia slumped in the chair a little as she took another shaky breath, “I think you’re acting out because you never felt seen. B-Before.” She stuttered.

And he snapped. He knew what she was referring to. And the worst part was, that she was right. Harry had never felt seen as a child. Growing up with a disabled brother who required care around the clock, most of his parents’ time and attention went to Edward. Harry was always sort of trailing behind, doing his own thing, growing up very quick to help care for his brother.

They never had much issues with him because he was responsible from a young age, but they also always assumed he was just fine. That there was never anything wrong with him, that Harry never felt bad. Which he did, he just felt like there was no room to show it. So he didn’t.

He never felt seen. And Mia thought he fucked someone in the library as a cry for attention from a childhood trauma.

“Stop.” He murmured, and Mia closed her mouth immediately. Her hands were white from gripping the pen so hard as she blinked at him with sorrow washing through her face, “H-Harry, I’m –“

He cut her off. Not with words, not by saying anything, but by briskly getting up his feet and towering over her. He didn’t look at her, only slightly seeing out of the corner of his eye how she flinched at his sudden movement. He yanked his coat off of the hanger and stormed out, leaving the door opened and leaving Mia behind.

His ears were ringing, his breaths were short and he was angry. Not with her, because he could tell she didn’t exactly want to say those things. But she did, and they were the complete truth. Maybe he did act out, do something scandalous to get attention and for people to recognize him and know him.

Maybe he did. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. He never wanted to know or be confronted with that piece of information, that his childhood traumatised him to a certain extent while he was already in his twenties. He hated it.

Mia hated it too. She hated what she had said, to the point it made her sick to her stomach. She stared blankly at Harry’s empty chair and reacted quickly, standing up too. In the distance, she heard doors. One signalling Harry leaving the building, the other signalling the arrival of professor Dillon who hurried into the room.

Mia paced around, the notebook that Harry gave her lost on the table and the pen had rolled off to the floor as she stared at him with horrified eyes. His weren’t shocked or surprised though, he shrugged, “That can happen. Don’t beat yourself up over it. It means you were right.”

It didn’t make her feel any better. And Mia did beat herself up over it. She shook her head sharply, “N-No. I don’t… this isn’t for me.”

“Mia.” He frowned, “You can’t always please everyone. And that’s okay. People run away from the truth, it’s too confronting. He knew you were right and couldn’t handle it, so he ran.”

“But I hurt him.” She squeaked out, knowing full well professor Dillon would never understand her emotional reaction. He must’ve thought she was being so dramatic as he frowned at her and then just shrugged, “Maybe. But that’s part of life, isn’t it? C’mon, your next appointment will be here in fifteen minutes. You did good, by the way, bringing it to him. Maybe a little more confidence, next time. Don’t say ‘I think’ so much.” He advised.

Mia was a little baffled, wondering how he could just leave her in the room as his student when he could tell she was struggling so much. Mia paced around some more, reaching for her phone to try and reach Harry. Most of all, she wanted to get out of here. She wanted to find him, look for him. Mia felt like she had to find him.

He didn’t answer the call.

So she struggled through the next two appointments, trying to listen to what they were saying. She didn’t want to fail this class, she really didn’t. She needed the extra credit and she needed the feedback from professor Dillon, but her thoughts were scattered and all pieces were with Harry.

Where he was, who he was with, what he was thinking. If he could talk to someone. If he hated her. If she had managed to screw this up.

The second the final girl was out of the room, Mia gathered her stuff and practically ran out. She didn’t wait for professor Dillon’s feedback, she didn’t wait for him to criticise or praise her. She had to find Harry. So Mia was on a mission.

She knew he lived on the campus grounds, in one of the student homes. She marched up to the large buildings, trying to figure out if any of them screamed ‘harry’ to her, but unlucky for her they were all red brick buildings in the exact same shape. She sighed, scratching her forehead as a slight drizzle started.

Mia’s eyes were drawn to the library building and then it clicked. Harry said he could see his student home from the library window. She squinted, trying to count the floors and the windows until she figured out there was only one building he could see from the library.

So she hurried up to it, yanking open the door to quickly scan the names on the doorbells. She quickly winced when realising no one wrote a serious name on the bells.

After reading fart, testicle one and testicle two on one of them, she gave up. None of them had Harry’s first or last name on them, so she had no clue. There were about sixty doorbells here.

And then she saw him. A boy she recognized. Her brain brought her back to the night at the bar on Friday when she had sat down with Harry, having a drink. At one point, the entire bar jumped up and turned to face this one guy, who had dropped a billiard ball hard on the wooden floor by mistake and blushed furiously at the sudden attention.

It was him. He was Harry’s friend. They had been playing pool when Mia arrived.

She swallowed her nerves for having to talk to someone unknown and quickly walked up to the guy who was scrolling on his phone. He looked like he was about to leave but waited for the drizzle to end.

“H-Hi.” She stupidly spoke. He lifted his head and raised his brows, “Hey, wh – oh.” His face contorted in realisation before breaking out into a grin, “You’re Mia, right?”

It was her turn to blush as she stared at him before nodding, “I-I am. Yes. Hi.”

“Hi.” He chuckled back, extending his hand, “’M Liam, I live with Harry.”

Mia sighed in relief, “Hello. I really need to find Harry. Is he home?”

“Yeah,” Liam nodded, “he is. Came home like two hours ago.”

Mia nodded, “Okay. C-Can I go see him? God, he must be so angry with me.” She mumbled, more to herself than for Liam to hear, but he did and frowned either way as Mia continued, “I said something horrible.”

“Oh, love.” Liam crooned, shaking his head, “I’m sure it’s alright. He won’t be angry and he definitely doesn’t hate you. You’re kind of all he talks about.”

Mia blushed again, but the pit of guilt was way too heavy in her stomach to really hear what Liam was saying. He eventually shot her a smile, “It’s on the fourth floor, apartment number 46.”

“Thank you.” She rushed out, turning around and hopping into the elevator. She reached the fourth floor quickly and hurried out, scanning the apartment doors before coming to a stop in front of number 46.

The six was a little crooked on the door and she pressed her lips together, knocking on the wood.

It only took about seven seconds for the door to open, revealing Harry.

He frowned in surprise to see a panting Mia standing outside his door. He had taken off his beanie ever since coming home, and for his own comfort – and it was something he did when he felt bad – he had changed out of his jeans and put on some sweats. 

Mia was breathing heavily and her eyes were wide, and Harry was too shocked to see her here, to even say anything. He had seen her missed call, but hadn’t answered on purpose. He needed to cool down first, deal with his emotions and feelings before hearing her apology which he knew for sure was coming.

He had already seen it in her face before she even spoke out the words. She had been apologising through her eyes before even saying anything back in that therapy room.

“Harry.” She murmured, nervously shifting on her feet as she shook her head, “I-I’m so sorry.”

Harry could see the tears springing in her eyes as her bottom lip quivered and he quickly lost his frown while taking a step closer to her, “Mia, hey… it’s okay. I know you had to say it because he was listening, I know you didn’t want to."

“Y-You did?” She squeaked softly, sniffing once, “I feel so bad, Harry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” He softly chuckled, endeared by how emotional she felt and how much this had been eating her up. He gently reached for her forearm to pull her into the apartment. The door closed behind them and Mia continued sniffing.

“Love.” Harry coaxed, “Please, don’t cry.”

Mia lifted her watery eyes and quickly nodded, “S-Sorry. You’re right.”

“Don’t have to apologise.” He shook his head, reaching for her hand, “It’s okay. I’m fine. ‘M sorry for running out and for not answering your call.”

“No, no,” She shook her head, “you had every right to do so. I’m sorry that I made you feel bad.”

Harry took another step closer to her as they had their hands entwined, and he gave hers a gentle squeeze before swallowing thickly, “The only reason I felt bad, was because you were right.”

Mia’s head came up, her light blue irises staring up into him. Harry could see the small tears on her waterline and the soft pink of her nose, “Do… Do you want to talk about it?”

Harry softly shook his head, “Not really.”

“Okay.” Mia whispered before sniffing once more, “C-Can I give you a hug? Hugs always make me feel better when I’m a little down. Hazel gives great hugs. Maybe they can make you feel better too.”

Harry had never been much of a hugger. He wasn’t a very affectionate person in general. Physical contact made him a little squeamish. But with Mia, he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms. He sighed out softly and nodded, “Yeah.”

She dropped her bag and stood up on her tippy toes before hesitantly wrapping her arms around his neck. Harry bent down a little, circling them around her waist. He closed his eyes, feeling her wetted coat beneath his palms but also feeling the heat radiating from her through the fabric. He pulled her into him, flush to his body and Mia bent and moved along to fit his shape.

Her chin was on his shoulder and Harry sighed out again, leaning down a little bit more to nuzzle his nose into her clothed shoulder. He had been right when dreaming about her. Her scent was everything he had expected it to be. Cinnamon, floral and pure warmth and comfort.

Her body had been everything he had expected it to be, fitting perfectly with his as they merged together easily. His palms engulfed her back whole and her arms were tight around his neck.

He wasn’t sure if the hug was more meant for him or her, who it was really supposed to help feel better. But he knew it did wonders for him. He melted into her touch, legs liquifying the longer they stayed like that. With closed eyes, they were engulfed completely into one another and none made the attempt to even get away.

“I’m asking Dillon to transfer me to someone else.” Harry eventually mumbled into Mia’s shoulder.

She sharply pulled back, a look of confusion in her eyes, “A-Are you still angry?” She whispered. Harry chuckled and shook his head, bringing one hand up to brush a strand of hair away and tuck it back into her braid, “No, ‘m not. But I can’t wait another four weeks to take you out.”

Mia grinned wide, biting her lip to hide it as she blushed a little. She buried her face back into him and Harry chuckled when they resumed their hugging position.

“Tomorrow?” He whispered softly, “Will you go out with me tomorrow?”

Mia smiled, squeezing her eyes shut in excitement as she wanted to jump up and down, “Yes.” She squeaked.

[cutiecusp]

Something borrowed, Something blue.

Part two to Something old, something new.

You and John Price have a history, one you miss terribly, will he be able to convince you to leave your groom at the altar for him?

TW. Slight suggestive smut, didn't realise it will be as long as it was, so there will be a part three!!! MDNI, kissing.

You feel the energy crackle around the room as John leant in, you could smell faint cigar smoke and a peppermint he must have eaten on the way in.

Your eyes meet his deep blue ones, and you step back cautiously. This was the secret answer to your prayers, but you couldn't believe this was real.

"John, I.. we can't." You press your hands against his chest, your diamond ring from another man glistening in the light, hoping to push him away. Someone had to take the mature approach and stop it, and you had to ignore the fire in your stomach as you touch him, but all he does is encircle his large hands around yours and pull you back in to him.

"I'm not running this time, love. I want you, and I want you to be mine. Work be damned." He lets out a breath and presses his lips over yours, silencing any doubts you had about his feelings for you.

He tasted like heaven, and you relaxed in his arms, as he took you into his arms and held you tightly, his tongue exploring yours as you both deepen the kiss. After a few heated moments, John pulls away reluctantly. His gaze bore into your soul, and you saw the need and desire in his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that you belonged to him, and he belonged to you.

"Should have been wearing this dress for me." He says gruffly, gesturing to your white wedding gown. "You look like an angel." He adds. He leads in for another kiss, but you are interrupted by a knock at your door.

"You nearly ready sweetheart? Gotta take you to the church." Your father calls through the door.

Your shocked face looks at John's calm features.

"It's my dad, he will kill you if he found out you were here." You hiss, looking for a hiding place for him.

"C-coming dad!" You yell, unsure if you should even ready to face him. You push John out of the view of the door, and open it, your face flushed and your flowers long forgotten.

"You look beautiful, dove." Your father says, holding an arm out for you. You reluctantly take it, leaning on his frame for support. He looks at you, and you are reminded of how much your father knows about you.

"Now, as your dad, I have to ask... is it too late for you to change your mind.. only I thought I saw John's car, and I know-" he pauses, and looks at his daughters face, all doe eyed and pink cheeks.

"You've seen him already, haven't you." He asks quietly.

You nod, your heart falling to the floor. What were you thinking? Kissing John an hour before you were going to marry your fiance? Shame filled your features as you can't look your dad in the eye. You were a good person, but deep down, you knew you couldn't marry a man you didn't love.

"You still have feelings for John?" Your father asks softly, holding you a little closer, as if he doesn't want anyone hearing your conversation.

"Y-yes. Yes I do." You admit, and you open the door wider to reveal John standing in your hotel room. You unhook your arm from your father's, and stand next to John.

Your dad throws you his car keys.

"Borrow my car. Drive her someplace safe for the night, and I'll take your car to my house. Thankfully you wanted a small wedding, so there's only a few people that need to know today." Your dad turns to John.

"Keep her heart safe. She deserves a good man. I trust that's you. I always liked you, don't fuck this up." He warns in a mock serious manner.

John shakes your father's hand, and pulls you in close.

"I promise, Sir. Thank you."

Pocketing the car keys, John urges you to pack a bag, and hand in hand, you run to the car.

John opens the door for you, as you scramble to get in, your dress hindering your body as you squeeze in the seat.

"First thing I plan on doing is taking that dress off, love." John says with a grin.

"How do you fancy playing Mrs. Price for the night? Honeymoon included?" He winks at you as he peals out of the car park.

Wind in your hair, John's hand in yours, you never felt more alive.

"Lead the way, Mr. Price" you laugh as you drive off in search of a honeymoon suite.

"I'm already dressed for the occasion!"

.................................................................

A/N I totally planned on there being smut, but thought this was a cool way to pause it.

@xoxunhinged @dustycrusty09

[garagesesh]

heartbreak hotel

pairing(s): eddie roundtree x reader

summary: both of you were in love with someone else

warning(s): drugs & alcohol, sexual content implied

a/n: alright friends, I wrote this last march when the second episode came out and I was bona fide drunk but here I am posting it almost a year later cause fuck it! why not? anyways, enjoy! did not read this before posting whoops

␛ to masterlist

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

You were watching as Eddie congratulated Camila.

Lighting a cigarette, observing as he perfected the fakest of smiles while looking up at her with eyes that said something different. You couldn't ignore the way his finger tips brushed along Camila's waist, lingering for as long as possible when she pulled away from him after the hug she had pulled him into. Eddie watched as Camila let herself be pulled away into the sea of people by a blonde and brunette you had never met before this evening. He stood there for awhile.

You wondered what was running through his mind. You knew something was up with him and knowing Eddie since the sixth grade you liked to think you knew him and how he worked.

Eddie stood there for a while, watching Camila disappear into the sea of people dancing, before retreating to the table where you were currently parked at.

“Hey.” He spoke first, dropping himself onto the chair next to you.

“Hi.”

"Can I borrow your lighter?" You shoved the smaller golden plated lighter that bore your initials on across the table. "Thanks."

"Are you okay?" "Yeah. Why?"

"C'mon Eddie." You gave him a look that went ignored as he lit the cigarette in between his fingers. “You’ve looked like utter shit since this morning.”

He shrugged and slid your lighter back, finally looking at you and gave a smile that looked more like a grimace. "I've never been better."

“What's going on between you and her?"

"Who?"

"Camila."

“Camila?” He played stupid.

“‘Camila?’ Of course Camila, who else?”

He scoffed. "I'm not in love with Camila."

“I know you have been since Billy brought her to Chucks garage for the first time, Eddie.”

“Yeah and you’ve been in love with Billy since Steppenwolf in ‘68.”

Billy took your first kiss at Steppenwolf, halfway through Born to Be Wild when he turned around and kissed you. You were drunk and he was on something as well, but it was something you could not quite forget even after all this time.

You were in love with him, but made sure to keep it together for the fear of ruining the friendship you cherished with Billy.

You hadn’t known a time that Billy wasn’t in your life and you made damn sure that he would never leave it.

“Yeah.” There was no sense in hiding it. Looking up into the colored Christmas lights that you and Warren spent an hour putting up earlier, reminiscing on the last few years.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He brought the bottle of beer he was holding in his hand to his lips. Falling into a silence, you hummed along to Stumbled on Sublime playing in the distance, trying to find the right thing to say.

“It feels like a funeral, y’know? I should be so damn happy for them, celebrating their life together. A life that they’re just starting together, starting a family and that’s beautiful. A part of me should feels sad that I missed out on that with him, but I feel nothing. I’m empty inside.” You tapped your chest. “And all I want to do is just to feel something. Anything.”

Eddie reached across the table again for the lighter and lit another cigarette, taking a draw and puffing out clouds of smoke as he let the minutes fly by before speaking finally. “I was nine. I remember when we would walk to church together and she would wear these white dresses that would make her look like one of the angels that we would sing about. And now here she is, in a white dress, an angel for someone else.”

“You should put that in a song.”

“Did you have to ruin the moment?”

“It was getting too sappy for me.”

“You asked.”

“Actually, you did.”

“Yeah, but you brought it up.”

“No wonder she picked Billy over you, you’re insufferable.” You kicked his leg hard hard, fed up with his antics.

“That hurt.” He clutched his leg. “Don’t go breaking my heart twice.”

“I didn’t know you knew Camila for that long.”

“Yeah that’s because I didn’t tell anyone.”

“I’m more curious as to why she didn’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah that’s a bit weird isn’t it, since she’s the open book.”

“And you’re definitely not.”

“No,” He took another drag. “I’m not.”

Another moment in silence passed, another cigarette gone from your pack.

“I should probably go home.”

“Nah, you can just stay over.”

"You sure?"

He nodded and stood up, waiting for you to follow him into the small brown home, away from the party.

“I’m scared.” You joked.

“Don’t be.”

“Yeah, sorry that didn’t really reassure me.”

You flopped yourself onto the large bed, that was nestled in the corner of the room beside the large picture window. Spread out, you sank into the plush oversized bed, kicking off your boots leaving yourself only in the thin t-shirt and pair of shorts you had initially worn to just lounge around the house and not for a full fledged wedding. “Thank you for not having a waterbed. I don’t understand how Warren can sleep on that thing.”

Eddie smiled as he reached for the guitar, not the bass, that was at the end of the bed. “Move.”

“The word is please.”

“Please move your ass over on my bed.”

“Charming.” Nevertheless, you rolled over towards the wall, him sitting up against the wall with the guitar in his lap. He began strumming chords from a Led Zepplin song, humming quietly along. Eddie paused to light another parliament.

“You’re really talented, Eddie.”

He scoffed. You knew about the tension between Billy and him. The endless fights about chords and songs, the lyrics and their meanings. The forced switch from guitar to bass. The yearn for creativity that Billy had cut off with his ego.

Eddie was talented, just as much as anyone else in the band, but never believed it.

"Yeah, sure."

“I mean it." He looked up from the strings on the guitar meeting your eyes. He searched your features, like he was looking for the lie, the pity you knew he had subscribed to for his entire musical career and even then.

You weren’t sure what you were doing when you leaned over and kissed him. Maybe it was seeking out comfort or the drugs and alcohol that ran rampant in your system, but he tasted like the cigarette that was still lit in between his fingers and the Budweiser that he had finished not long ago.

He hadn’t reacted at all before you decided to pull back, completely sobering up in the mere seconds that your lips had touched his.

“I um…” You hastily climbed over him, careful not to touch his body in any capacity and your knee catching across the guitar strings, playing harsh chords and nicking your skinand out of his bed whilst practically slamming the half empty bottle on the nightstand. “It’s time for me to go home.”

He calmly put out the half-done cigarette in the ashtray on the stand and stood up without saying a word. Your stomach hurt at the silence, the lack of reaction from him, the tension that was so thick you cut it with a knife. All of it was so calm, so tranquil, but your anxiety was at an all time high.

“Alright. Goodnight.” You turned to leave now standing in the threshold of the open sliding glass door, teetering on the seesaw of regret and embarrassment on the stunt you just pulled. Fuck! You couldn't comprehend the situation you stupidly put yourself in. Despite wearing impractical sky high boots, you were ready to run for it. “See you when I uh see you.”

“You can’t drive like that.” He finally spoke and adrenaline pumped through you, hearing at just how close he was His voice was close, finally broke his silent voNow standing behind you,

"I'll call a cab."

"It's four a.m."

"I'll walk."

"You can just stay here.”

“No, I’m fine. Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Stop it.” His tone turned stern. The fingers that barely ghosted your wrist, tightened and spun your weak body to face his. Your heart beat pounded in your ears, his hand came to rest on your shoulder, trailing up your neck and his thumb wiped away white hot tears that you didn’t realize poured out. “You’re bleeding.”

You didn’t look down to your knee, keeping your eyes on his. “Oh.”

And then he kissed you. This time you didn’t react as his lips pressed into yours, stunned that he wasn’t screaming at you or kicking you out but instead kissing you.

You gave in, wrapping your arms around his neck, dropping both your bodies onto the bed again.

It was the first time you had felt anything since eleven that morning.

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