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***

The Backstory

September 2006

In Nora Priestley’s fourteen years of life, she’s never lived this far away from the ocean before. It’s always been just right outside her window, a quick ten-minute trek from Thames Street until she reached the rolling dunes of Rejects Beach. Smelling the salt in her hair and feeling her skin grow sticky from the feeling of the ocean air was practically second-nature to her, but ever since she moved to the middle of nowhere Connecticut for boarding school, she’s never felt more disconnected from normality in her life.

Nora’s never really been a big fan of embracing change. She’d like to blame that on the fact that she’s never really had any monumental shifts to her tectonic plates so far in her short life, and she’s not quite sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.

It’s always been just her and her mom. A dynamic duo. A tag team of epic proportions.

Growing up in Newport, Rhode Island could be worse, Nora thinks. She was lucky enough to grow up in a small coastal town where everybody accepted her in one way or another. Even though she was much different than the other kids her age, considering she spent most of her time alone while her mother worked, she never felt unhappy. Life was simple. Life was easy.

Nora and her mother, Shannon, lived in a small apartment in a renovated old colonial townhouse at the bottom of Thames Street. It was a third-floor walk-up, and in the heat of the summer when the humidity made the wallpaper begin to curl at the edges of her tiny paisley-coated bedroom, Nora had to sleep with her creaky window open with nothing but a thin sheet to cover her sweat-soaked body, the soft sounds of the rolling waves crashing against the shore lulling her to sleep.

Shannon Priestley was the ultimate leading lady in Nora’s life. She referred to Nora as her perfect mistake, because having a baby the summer she turned eighteen with a boy she thought would be her forever was the very definition of that phrase. But she handled it like she did everything else in her life—with grace and dignity, and nothing but a big gleaming grin on her face that always made Nora and everyone else lucky enough to be around her sunbeam feel that everything would be okay.

With a one-year-old baby on her hip and a bright and shiny high school diploma under her belt, Shannon found a job listing to be a nanny for the Clemonte’s. Without a second’s deliberation, she packed up her things and moved to the tip of the state to Newport.

The Clemonte’s were one of the wealthiest families in Newport, hailing from an impressive lineage of old money with an expansive estate of fourteen acres overlooking Ochre Point and the Atlantic Ocean. They were one of those families that named their properties, and when Shannon Priestley first stepped foot inside The Breakers mansion, she knew right then and there that her new bosses had very high expectations for her.

Shannon became the singular nanny to Warren and Jane Clemonte’s baby son, William. He was born three months after Nora, and even though Shannon felt slighted that she had to spend most of her days with another family’s child while her own was being watched by their downstairs neighbor, she promised to split her time evenly. And even though twenty-four hours in a day was never enough for Shannon, she made sure to spend most of it with Nora.

And Nora was always grateful for that.

The second Nora was old enough to take care of herself, she started going to The Breakers after school so that her mom could walk her home. It was at that very moment when she had her first taste of ostentatious luxury, and from then on it never failed to amaze her. The other half certainly did live differently than Nora and her mother, and stepping foot inside the Clemonte’s mansion made that realization startlingly clear.

This was when she first met William Clemonte. Nora always knew he existed, considering her mother would sprinkle in small anecdotes about him while doing other mundane tasks. “Willy was very quiet today,” Shannon would tell Nora on their walk home from Ochre Point to Lower Thames. “Mr. and Mrs. Clemonte want Willy to take piano lessons and learn Latin. How on earth is a seven-year-old supposed to handle that?”

To Nora, Willy was somewhat of a fictional character living behind the towering walls of The Breakers. She imagined him being a smaller boy, blonde with blue eyes and wearing some sort of matching ensemble sitting inside the thick walls of his mansion, overlooking the deep cobalt ocean through a grand wall of windows. But when she meets him one afternoon after her first day of second grade, she could not be any more wrong.

Sure, Willy Clemonte was a small boy, but he was by no means shy or scared of her. He took her on a tour through the grand halls of The Breakers, showed her all of the secret passageways built inside the walls from when the mansion was first erected back in the early twentieth century, and shared his brand new toys with her.

But most importantly, he listened to her. He asked her a million questions about public school, about the world outside of his tall fortress, about the television shows Shannon let Nora watch after dinner, and the different kinds of popular music other kids their age were listening to.

“Wait, so *NSYNC isn’t just Justin Timberlake?” Willy would ask whenever Nora would show him what was inside her portable CD player (which was almost exclusively No Strings Attached until she reached the fourth grade).

“Oh my god, Willy! *NSYNC is a boyband! Justin is just the best one,” Nora would scold right back, shoving the plastic headphones over his blonde head of hair so that the felt cushions would press against his ear, the vibrating thumps of “Bye Bye Bye” playing through the electronic equipment.

Whenever he would ask her about school, Willy was always shocked to hear how different her experience was from his own. Nora would tell him about the yellow school buses that picked up and dropped off her friends, she would show up to his house afterward wearing jeans and a pink Gap sweatshirt and he was always surprised to learn that kids could wear whatever they wanted during the day, and when she would come over on Fridays and tell him that her mother gave her a dollar for pizza day at lunchtime, Willy wished more and more that he could go to public school with her, too.

While Willy was nothing but sunshine and kindness, Warren Clemonte was the complete opposite. A cold and distant man, stern and grumpy with a perpetual frown on his face, he sent a terrifying chill all the way down to Nora’s bones until they rattled together like a hollow instrument. And one Thursday afternoon when Shannon was busy packing Willy’s bags for the Clemonte’s annual Christmas trip to Aspen, Warren caught his son running around the main hall searching through every nook and cranny for Nora’s impressive hiding spot. It was only once she heard the bellowing yells when she emerged from behind an old armoire in the library, peeking her head around the corner to watch Warren yell at Willy in the echoing hallway.

“What do you think you’re doing, running around when you’ve left your Latin workbook unfinished?” Warren demanded, his low voice bouncing off the thick walls.

“I’m sorry, dad. I was just—”

“—Just what? Playing around and avoiding your responsibilities? How are you supposed to learn anything if you spend all of your time dilly-dallying with that girl, William?”

Willy began to cry then, and before Nora could interfere, her mother was already ten steps ahead of her, entering the main hall and apologizing profusely while her daughter stayed hidden behind the old armoire, watching everything with regretful eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Clemonte. I was just packing for Willy, I didn’t realize he had run off. I’ll make sure it never happens again, sir,” Shannon said, placing a comforting arm around Willy’s shaking shoulders while his father stood barely five feet away, watching his wailing son with lifeless eyes.

“Please do, Miss Priestley. William does not need any more distractions.” His voice held a clipped finality to it, and when he walked away and Nora appeared from behind the wall to approach Willy who was clutching her mother for dear life, she never understood how his father could just leave his son to fall apart in front of him like that.

That was the last afternoon Nora ever spent at The Breakers.

Up until four months ago, Nora was almost certain that the entire Clemonte family had forgotten that she existed, and that treacherous afternoon with Willy nearly seven years ago was just a sad memory that could be tarnished for the rest of eternity. But when her mother comes home with a thick black and red folder, the words Townbridge Academy in capital letters splayed against the front page above a golden crest, Nora’s never been more confused in her life.

When she asked her mother what she was doing with a boarding school acceptance letter in her hand that Nora had never heard of before, the answer she received was definitely not what she had expected. Apparently, Mrs. Clemonte found out that Nora was planning on attending the public high school on Broadway Street, and apparently, she believed that she could offer Shannon a lending hand. Nora would like to blame it all on Jane Clemonte’s philanthropic tendencies, but a few phone calls and a faxed copy of Nora’s stellar transcripts later, Nora was appointed a lofty scholarship to attend Townbridge Academy in the fall.

All things considered, Nora did not want to go. She liked her middle school friends, she liked being her own person, she liked knowing that her mom was only a twenty-minute walk away, and most importantly, she liked not having to be associated with a family like the Clemonte’s. She didn’t want to be seen as a charity case, and accepting the scholarship on Mrs. Clemonte’s behalf to attend a prestigious boarding school like Townbridge Academy was exactly that.

But when her mother sat her down and told her how amazing this opportunity was, and how much Nora could accomplish with a diploma from one of the best schools in the country, Nora couldn’t bring herself to say no. Especially when her mother held her close and whispered in her ear, “God, Nora, you can do all of the things I never could have done,” Nora knew that there was no way she could break her mother’s heart.

Because now, standing in her new dorm room with deep oak walls, a creaky polished hardwood floor, a red ornamental rug that smelled a bit like Warren Clemonte’s cologne, and a small twin bed nestled in the corner underneath a window overlooking the bleak green hills of Connecticut—Nora Priestley wishes she had told her mother no.

Before she can even wallow in her own self-imposed misery, the front door opens revealing an older man carrying a trolley holding a matching six-piece set of luggage. Nora looks down to the singular old leather suitcase she purchased at a surplus store on Spruce Street resting on the floor, comparing it to the monogrammed navy blue set with the gold letters ARW spanning across each piece.

The man begins placing each suitcase onto the floor without uttering a word to a very confused Nora, and suddenly the door opens wider, a pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair floating into the room. She’s wearing a white tennis skirt that rests a few inches above her kneecap, with a powder blue collared shirt cuffed at the wrists. For a brief moment, Nora wonders if her mother purchased the wrong uniform set for her, but when the girl lifts her eyes from her Blackberry and looks over at Nora, she notices a sailor’s crest embroidered on the right side above her chest with more initials, and she begins to breathe a little.

“Hi! You must be my roommate, I’m Nor—”

“—Where are the rest of your bags?” the girl interrupts, eyeing the old leather suitcase disdainfully. Nora’s fingers immediately fly up to her scalp and begin raking through her blonde hair, a nervous habit she’s tried her hardest to get rid of.

“I have a duffle on the desk chair, too,” Nora explains quietly, removing her hand from her hair so that she can point towards the old wooden desk that holds her mother’s duffle bag.

Nora watches as the girl’s piercing gaze shifts from her two flimsy bags to her outfit. And when Nora watches beady hazel eyes take in her old white tank top, her mom’s grey knit cardigan, thrifted bootcut jeans, and sandals from two summers ago, Nora’s never wanted to disappear more in her life.

Before she can find the words to speak, Nora hears a shrill “Alyssa!” echo through the hallway, until a matching set of girls wearing nautical-inspired clothing and thick headbands are hugging the strawberry blonde-haired girl who just so obviously judged Nora a few moments ago.

“Who’s this?” one of the girls asks Alyssa, breaking away from their hug and looking over at Nora with interest.

Just as Nora reaches a hand out to introduce herself, Alyssa says, “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go, girls,” and the three girls spin around without even uttering a goodbye.

Nora watches as they walk down the hallway, giggling the entire way as if they hadn’t singlehandedly just ruined her first official day away from home.

***

October 2006

The first month at boarding school is just a series of Nora playing catch up. While she thought going to public school and hanging out with normal people would be enough to prepare her for high school, three weeks in she’s never felt more lost in her entire life.

She’s one of the only students who doesn’t own a cellphone, she wears second-hand Sperry’s instead of fancy loafers with gold links on the front, her backpack is a maroon Jansport while most students opted for leather messenger bags, and when people ask her how she spent her summer, she’s gotten used to the wide-eyed look they give her when she explains that she scooped ice cream near the beach for tips.

Nora’s not naive. She knows that she’s referred to as The Scholarship Girl behind her back, she knows that Alyssa complains to her elitist friends about how dreadful it is to be forced to room with a girl who wears hand-me-down clothing, and she knows that adjusting to life at Townbridge was going to be the very definition of arduous.

But she remembers what her mother told her—how Nora’s skin is thicker than she thinks, and no matter how different she is to everybody else, she’s still just as deserving of a top-notch education.

Even though Nora was at the top of her class for most of her life, she still felt far behind the rest of her classmates at Townbridge. She spends the first few weeks getting very acquainted with the walls of the library, making the nearly twenty-minute trek from her dorm in Emerson Hall to Millikan Library across campus. Classes have only just begun, but Nora can’t afford to fall any more behind than she already has. So instead of making friends and signing up for various clubs and sports teams, Nora’s allowed her backside to practically mold into the stiff wooden chairs inside the empty library.

Nora would have completely forgotten about the First Year Mixer being held that evening if not for Alyssa and her friends getting ready in her dorm room. When she walks in still wearing her uniform well after classes have ended for the day, the three girls look at her as if she were crazy.

“Did you forget about the mixer tonight, Nora?” Grace, one of the twins, asks with a shocked expression decorating her pretty face. All three girls are wearing colorful Lilly Pulitzer dresses, passing along mascara and eyeshadow amongst themselves in preparation for tonight.

“Uh, no I was just—”

“—Making friends with the books again?” Alyssa sneers, earning a giggle from the girls.

Nora chooses not to respond. It’s just easier that way.

Walking over to her wardrobe, Nora sorts through her limited selection of clothing to find something appropriate to wear for tonight. She didn’t even want to be in attendance, but she’s figured that she’s probably spent enough time on her own, and that maybe, in the off chance that Townbridge has some normal students, she can make a friend or two.

The only two dresses she brought with her were a simple long-sleeved cream sweater dress that fell just above her knees, and a thin summer dress her mother bought her two years ago that was tighter and fell around mid-thigh. She goes with the sweater dress, deeming it the best outfit she has to just simply blend in. Once it’s over her head, she reaches for her thigh-high socks and brown boots she got as a graduation gift, slipping them on quickly. October has left a brisk chill in the nighttime air, and considering her jackets consisted of a worn-in winter parka and an oversized flannel she scored at Goodwill, Nora thinks this combination will be more than fine.

She reaches for the comb on her desk and begins to rake it through her knotted hair, smoothing out the kinks and leaving the strands to fall in their messy, wavy natural state. Just as she’s digging through her backpack to try and find her lip balm and mascara, she can’t help but overhear Alyssa gossiping to Grace and Erin loudly from across the room.

“Harry’s plane landed a few hours ago,” Alyssa gushes, plucking the blush from Grace’s hands and beginning to apply it to the apples of her cheeks.

“Oh my God, no way! You must be so excited, Lyss!” Erin squeaks, reaching for the lipgloss that Alyssa just used. Before she can even remove the lid, Alyssa swats at her wrists and tells her to pick another color.

“Have you been texting all summer?” Grace asks from behind the vanity.

Alyssa nods, readjusting her freshly curled hair. “Ever since he left the Hamptons in July, yeah. We’ve been messaging back and forth. He told me he can’t wait to see me tonight.”

“That’s so romantic, Lyss!” Erin says, and Nora tries her hardest not to roll her eyes. “I can’t believe they let him miss the first three weeks of school.”

“He’s Harry Styles, Erin,” Grace chides, turning to face her sister with slanted eyes. “He can do whatever he wants.”

Nora twists the mascara wand back into the tube before backing away from her desk, double-checking her outfit to make sure that it was suitable enough. Just as she gives her hair one last fluff, she hears Alyssa ask, “Are you really not going to do anything with your hair?”

Nora turns towards her with a sheepish look, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t own any styling tools so…” she lets the words fall from her mouth, watching the three girls in front of her look at her as if she had a second head growing out of her neck.

“You’ve never straightened your hair?! I’m sure Alyssa will let you borrow—”

“—Erin! Enough. Let’s go, we’re going to be late,” Alyssa scolds, ending the conversation abruptly. Before Nora can even shoot a smile in Erin’s direction, the three girls are already out the door, leaving Nora to walk to the Great Hall by herself.

The problem with spending all of her time walking from her dorm to the lecture halls on East Campus to Millikan Library is that she seemingly forgot where every other building was. Trying to locate the Great Hall in daylight was already difficult for Nora, but now with the sun practically set behind the horizon and her sense of direction completely shit, she starts panicking when she’s walked by the dining hall for the third time.

An upperclassman saves Nora before she can have a full-blown panic attack in the middle of the quad, and with two minutes to spare, Nora finds a row with a few empty seats towards the back of the room.

Nobody seems to have noticed her, save for the girls in the row in front of her who turn around when Nora’s boots jostle their chairs. She offers them a muffled apology, and just as quickly as they turned around to look at her, they swivel their necks to face the front again.

Nora sighs to herself, before lifting her head to hear the Headmaster begin his speech. After listening to him drawl about the mission statement and his expectations for the first-year students, Nora immediately wishes she never left her dorm room. She can feel her eyes begin to droop, and before her body can slump further down into her chair, the sound of a heavy oak door closing echoes throughout the Great Hall, and Nora feels her body springing upwards.

Headmaster Clayton pauses in his monotonous ramblings, and before the entire collection of students in front of Nora can turn around to see what the interruption was, a long body falls into the chair next to hers, and the Headmaster resumes his speech as if nothing ever happened.

“Did I miss anything?” an impossibly British voice whispers in Nora’s direction, and she’s a bit surprised by the low timbre of it. She looks over at him and finds herself staring into green pools with a golden shimmer surrounding his irises. Nora’s never been captivated by a boy before—but the one sitting next to her with fluffy chocolate curls falling over his forehead, surrounding his ears, and ending at the nape of his neck might possibly be the first. His hands are shoved inside the pockets of an expensive-looking black trench coat, and his upper body is leaning towards hers as he awaits her response. When Nora notices his pink lips forming into a small smirk, she’s almost positive that she’s been caught staring at this boy for far too long.

“Uh, no. Not really,” she whispers back, scrutinizing the way her voice squeaked at the beginning of her sentence.

His smirk shifts into a full-blown grin, and Nora can feel her cheeks begin to burn. “Hm, sounds like somebody wasn’t paying attention in the first place.”

Before Nora can retort, the boy near her chuckles softly at her nervous expression. “Can’t say I blame you, love. Clayton’s a fucking fossil.”

Nora giggles, causing the girls in front of her to turn around again with a murderous expression on their faces. She stops abruptly, and after they’ve snapped their heads forward for the second time, she looks over to the boy on her left and finds him trying his hardest to stifle another chuckle.

He shifts his body so he’s no longer leaning in Nora’s direction, and she’s a bit saddened by the sudden distance between them both.

Nora replays the interaction in her inexperienced, fourteen-year-old mind, wondering if the boy near her was just flirting with her. There’s no denying that she thinks he’s cute, considering she finds herself sneaking looks at him every few minutes during the duration of Headmaster Clayton’s speech just to get another glimpse of his soft hair and sunken dimples. And on more than one occasion, he catches her in his periphery, shooting her that charming smirk that never fails to make her cheeks blush.

The moment Headmaster Clayton wraps up his speech and the rest of the students begin to stand, Nora turns towards the boy and finds that he’s already looking at her. Now that they’ve exited their row, Nora notices how tall he is, taking in his long legs clad in black denim, his even longer torso in a similar black shirt. The all-dark ensemble somehow makes him look older. Makes him look mysterious. Makes him look even more handsome—and suddenly Nora’s grown a bit nervous.

“I’m Nora, by the way,” she says, sticking her hand out for him to shake. He hesitates, looking between her face and her outstretched hand with a smile on his face, finding it incredibly cute that a girl his age would greet him so formally.

Just before his hand can fall into hers, another hand claps him on the shoulder and he’s forced to look at the intrusion, his own arm falling back to his side. “Harry, my man! How was the flight?”

When Nora looks over his shoulder, she notices two boys greeting him warmly. She hasn’t really met anybody at Townbridge aside from Alyssa, Grace, and Erin, so she’s not surprised when she doesn’t recognize the two other boys infiltrating their small bubble.

But upon further inspection, Nora realizes that she does, in fact, recognize one of them.

Standing directly in her line of vision is none other than Willy Clemonte. Although it’s been seven years since Nora last saw him, there’s no denying that the sandy-haired, blue-eyed teenager in front of her is him. He’s practically almost the same height as his father now, towering over Nora in his khaki pants and a white cable-knit sweater. His hair still tangles in his eyelashes and his cheeks are still dusted with freckles, and Nora’s stunned at the sudden rush of memories that flood her insides.

He seems to have made the same startling realization as Nora did, because his eyes begin to widen almost comically, and a strained expression falls over his features. Before they can give away that they’ve been staring at each other, the boy from before, now known to Nora as Harry, spins around on his heels and gives her a small smile.

“Nora, right?” he asks, and she nods hesitantly. “Where are you from?”

“Uh, Newport,” Nora answers.

“Oh, wicked! So you must know Will, then?” Harry asks, seemingly oblivious to the awkward tension radiating from the two of them.

Before she can respond, Will clears his throat and takes a step forward. With one last panicked look at Nora, he tells Harry, “Yeah, man. Her mom was one of our maids.”

“Wait, what?” Harry asks, confusion written all over his face. Nora’s surprised that she can hear it over the sound of her breath leaving her lungs from Willy’s comment. Sure, she knew that the last time they saw each other he was crying into her mother’s arms over a remark his father said, and sure, she didn’t expect them to resume their friendship as if nothing had happened.

But to blatantly lie about Nora’s mother, a woman who took care of him for years? Nora never thought that he would grow up to be so cruel.

To twist the knife lodged into her chest even further, Alyssa and the twins approach the group with annoyed looks, all aimed in Nora’s direction. They seem to have overheard Willy’s previous comment, and before Nora can even defend herself, Alyssa reaches out and wraps her hand around Harry’s forearm as if she were claiming him in front of everybody.

“Yeah, apparently Townbridge is letting just about anybody in this year. Just ignore her, Harry, we all have been,” she says, her tone nothing but dismissive.

Nora watches as Harry shifts his gaze from Alyssa to her. His green eyes fall down her body, and for the first time, he notices the loose thread at the hemline of her dress from overwear, the tear in her socks behind the knee, her brown boots that lack the distinction of a designer label. With one last look at her, he takes a step back, and Nora knows right then and there that she’s been condemned as an outsider.

“C’mon Harry, tell us all about the rest of your summer in France! I want to hear all about it,” Alyssa enthuses, and without a second look, the group turns around and leaves Nora staring after them.

No matter how attractive she finds Harry, there’s no denying that his personality is undeniably ugly. And as she watches him wrap an arm around Alyssa’s shoulder, Nora thinks it’s quite fitting that they’ve both found each other.

***

November 2007

Summer has always been Nora’s favorite season (living permanently near the ocean sort of makes that inevitable), but that summer after her first year, Nora’s never been more excited to be home. She missed her mom, she missed the beach, and she missed her normal friends who didn’t care that she wore sandals that were falling apart and shorts that were fraying at the edges.

When Nora came back from school, she begged her mother not to send her back to Townbridge for her second year. She told her how she couldn’t make friends, how everybody made her feel like a social pariah, and how she was absolutely miserable being so far away from her.

“Oh, Nora baby,” her mother said, holding her close. “You know exactly who you are. You’re strong, you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent—and you’re so much better than those kids who make you feel like you aren’t.”

“You don’t understand, mom,” Nora said through hiccups, wet tears soaking her cheeks, “They hate me. All of them. They never even gave me a chance.”

“Everybody?” her mother asked. And when Nora just stared at her with her lower lip trembling, Shannon combed her fingers through Nora’s blonde hair comfortingly. “I’m sure there are people at Townbridge who are just like you. I just don’t think you’ve tried to find them yet.”

Even though she didn’t want to admit it, Nora knew that her mother was right. So after another summer filled with scooping ice cream for tips and spending every second of her days off at the beach reading romance novel after romance novel, Nora packed up her things for the second time—this time with another suitcase—and set off for Connecticut with higher hopes for her second year.

Things seemed to be turning around for her when she discovered that her roommate was no longer Alyssa Whalen. Instead, it was a girl named Lydia who lived a few towns over in Madison by the beach, just like Nora. They bonded instantly over their shared love of having sea-knotted hair and the feeling of having sand squished between your toes and letting your fingers wrinkle from wading through the briny water for too long. And when Lydia encourages Nora to sign up for the swim team with her, Nora’s grateful that she’s finally found a friend in this hellhole.

Her second year is leagues better than her first, considering in the first three months, she barely had to cross paths with Alyssa and Harry. On the rare instances that they do run into each other, they simply ignore the other’s existence, and Nora doesn’t mind it one bit. It’s just easier that way, she supposes.

Halfway through Nora’s swim season, she turns sixteen and discovers that everybody around her is getting their license. Lydia’s parents bought her a used 2005 Honda Civic when she passed her driver’s test, and when she told Nora that she could use it whenever she needed, Nora felt bad lying to her new friend. Because once again she was playing catch up, getting her learner’s permit over the summer when everybody was already scheduling their exam, and with the way things were going, Nora wouldn’t be able to get her license until she was home again for summer break.

She also didn’t want to admit to Lydia that she couldn’t afford a car, and that her mother would never allow Nora to take her 1997 Toyota Corolla to campus.

After swim practice one November afternoon, Nora leaves the Athletic Center with wet hair to head back to her dorm in Donahue Hall completely across campus. Normally, Nora walks with Lydia, but since it’s Friday and students who live in-state with a license are allowed to leave campus for the weekend, Nora’s forced to make the twenty-minute journey alone.

With her gym bag slung over her shoulder, Nora begins to walk through the parking lot to head towards the footpath that will bring her through campus. The sky is awfully dark for four in the afternoon, and when she looks up and notices the menacing grey clouds, she kicks herself for not packing her umbrella before she left her room this morning.

Just as she’s almost in the clear, she hears a familiar giggle that makes her skin crawl. Living with Alyssa for one excruciating year has allowed Nora to recognize that sound almost immediately, and sheepishly she tucks her chin deeper into the neckline of her jacket, praying that her face is hidden as she walks past the group.

When Nora reaches inside her half-zipped gym bag for her water bottle, she swears to herself when the strap detaches from the siding and the nylon bag falls to the cement. Making sure everything is strapped appropriately, she heaves the bag over her shoulder once it’s zipped up. As she swings her elbow to place the bag comfortably around her body, she doesn’t take into account her proximity to a particularly shiny black SUV—and just before she can escape the parking lot undetected, her bag smashes against the hood of the car, causing the headlights to flicker on and off and the alarm to blare piercingly through the space.

“Hey!” Nora hears from behind her. When she turns she sees Harry jogging towards her, his brown hair dripping from the shower he just took. He’s wearing joggers and a Townbridge Academy Soccer sweatshirt, and when he reaches inside his pocket and reveals a shiny key fob, Nora swears for the second time knowing that the fancy car she just accidentally hit belonged to him.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” His voice is booming through the parking lot and it’s enough to make Nora feel incredibly small. When he finally presses the alarm button on his key and the blaring stops, she can hear his exasperated breaths in its place, and she’s not quite sure what’s worse.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“—I saw the whole thing, Harry!” Alyssa calls over from her spot across the cement, walking towards the pair of them with an accusatory finger extended in Nora’s direction. “She slammed her gym bag against your car.”

“It was an accident!” Nora screeches, feeling her face turning red. “My bag strap fell off and when I went to put it back on my shoulder, I bumped your car. Not, er, intentionally.”

Harry looks between the two girls with an annoyed expression on his face. “Just be more careful, yeah? It’s brand new.”

When Nora looks at the behemoth of a vehicle to her left, observing the shiny black exterior with the words Range Rover written across the front in chrome lettering, she can only imagine the outrageous price tag it has. Which is why she nods, apologizing one last time.

“Won’t happen again.” Nora begins to turn around on her heel, just as the air begins to get cooler and the slightest smell of rain can be detected in the distance.

“You’re walking all the way to Donahue in the rain?” Harry asks suddenly, and Nora begins to wonder how he even knows she lives in that building. She pauses, thinking if he or Alyssa or any one of their stupid friends lives in Donahue, and when she comes up with nothing, she turns around with a confused expression on her face.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t have a car.” Before she can feel the first drop of rain hit her skin, laughter erupts from the small group surrounding Harry and his car. Nora hides her face, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

With one last gulp, Nora turns around and begins walking towards the footpath, shoving the hood of her flimsy rain jacket over her head.

“Well, at least your hair is already wet!” Nora hears Alyssa call out from behind her, with more laughter following until Nora’s a safe distance away from where she can no longer be scrutinized by Harry and his rude friends.

As Nora reaches Donahue Hall with her tracksuit bottoms sticking to her legs like a second skin and her jacket completely drenched, all she can think about is how she’d rather walk another ten miles before ever having another conversation with Alyssa Whalen and Harry Styles if her life fucking depended on it.

***

A/N: Here’s chapter two! We’ve finally met Harry and Alyssa (yikes), so feel free to share with me your thoughts and predictions for the next part! High school is a funny time period to write about, and I’m excited to share the next part with you all. Look out for it on Friday, February 19th, which will be the normal update schedule. Until then, stay safe! x

taglist: @ilovegolden @stylishmuser @solllaris @ficnarry @thatnightin2008 @harryswinterberries @morethanamelodyy @coffee-doodle-doo @stepping-into-the-light @piawhat @sylcolt @burberryharold @sapphicspacecult666 @adoremp3 @beautifulletdownfics @thefangirlingbarista @iwantedmacmaddybutitstaken @veryplatoniccircunstances @live-at-the-forum @heslilac @kakayam @caramello-styles @ifheartscouldwrite @rubytersteege @mybm1998 @harrykingofcamp @cherryyharryy @15christyxoxo @harrys-cherrry @cherryruins @awomanindeniall @sing-me-a-song-harry @sunnybusiness @hhh33-3l @ashwathx @ficsthatmakemeswoon @harryinsweatersandbandanas @ihearthemcallingforyou @niallgolden @pastequeharry @tinyfelthat @70s-harry @booksncoffee @somebridgesburn @millennial-teenybopper @sunfloweratheart @cherrygoldenn @for-fucks-sake-h @pastequeharry @justhereforlurking @mellamolayla @cosmictali @zcjt

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#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #1dff #1dffupdates #fic: fade

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ibelieveinturtles · 2 years

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Bucky Barnes Bingo Masterpost

B1: Cartoon of Bucky and Nat - WinterWidow - BuckyNat - - Moodboard

B2: Til Death Do Us Part - Til Death Do Us Part - Darcy Lewis/Bucky Barnes - "You might not be around me anymore, but your presence will be felt for eternity." - unknown - Moodboard

B3: Labyrinth - The Maze Stumbler - Darcy Lewis & Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson - Don’t drink Thor’s Asgardian booze. Ever. - Moodboard

B4: High School - BBB September Round Robin - N/A - Bucky, Steve, and Natasha are helping decorate the hall for their school dance. Commence shenanigans. - Fic

B5: Cartoon of the Winter Soldier - Lights, Camera, Action - N/A - - Moodboard

U1: Plums - Love Starts With Plums - James "Bucky" Barnes & Darcy Lewis - Love starts with plums (or the one where all Bucky wanted was a few plums to snack on and ended up finding a whole lot of plum-themed baked goods and the love that was baked into them.) - Moodboard

U2: Body Swap - A Matched Pair - Bucky Barnes/Jane Foster, Bucky Barnes & Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis - Whilst touring the ancient Viking village, Bucky and Darcy find themselves in a predicament. - Fic

U3: Shopping Together - May Round Robin - N/A - A quest for theater costumes and props ends in a possibly magical shop and a probably fae encounter. - Fic

U4: Picture of 'Bucky' (BTS) - The Red Room Bar and Grill - BuckyNat - BuckyNat Restaurant AU - is it a cover? is it real? Have they retired or are they running their own operations? No one knows! - Moodboard

U5: Prisoners/Captives Together - Replaced with: Adopted: Historic - All These Stars Exist - Bucky/Jane - Bucky doesn’t know a lot about stars. Or art. - Fic

C1: Stranded - The Maze Stumbler - Darcy Lewis & Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson - Don’t drink Thor’s Asgardian booze. Ever. - Fic

C2: Picture of Bucky and Sam (Endgame) - The Quantum Cat - No ship - Everyone knows that if you give a cat catnip, it will go a little crazy. It’s a shame that no one knows what the Flerken equivalent to catnip is, because Goose got into the hors d’oeuvres and now the Avengers are scattered across the multiverse. Now it’s up to Sam to rescue the Avengers. - Moodboard

C3: Free Space - In The Restaurant - Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis & Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes & Darcy Lewis - Summary: “Ladies and gentlemen, the Universe as we know it has now been in existence for over one hundred and seventy thousand million billion years and will be ending in a little over half an hour.” - Max Quordlepleen, The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe by Douglas Adams. OR, there’s an explosion in the lab (again) and Darcy goes time travelling. This time, she’s not alone. - Fic

C4: Mind/Emotion reading - BBB October 2021 Round Robin - N/A - How Bucky starts finding and expanding his comfort zone, and making friends with the Avengers. - Fic

C5: Picture of Bucky and Sam running (Civil War) - New Year Mission - Darcy Lewis & Bucky Barnes - Bucky and Sam team up with Darcy Lewis for a New Years Eve Mission involving cocktails, escape rooms, and a missing portal machine. - Moodboard

K1: Fallout - Pocket Issues - James "Bucky" Barnes & Darcy Lewis - When they arrived at the safehouse, Bucky was too tired to listen to the welcome talk. Which means he missed some important information regarding the laundry rules. - Fic

K2: Canon Compliant - Free Fill Token

K3: Vampire/Werewolf - June Round Robin - N/A - The New York werewolf pack unwillingly explore a mysterious, icy labyrinth. Bucky is not at all happy about this. - Fic

K4: Gender-swap - replaced with Adopted: Multiverse shenanigans - This Kind Of Thing - Bucky & Sam - Sam and Bucky return home and begin to plan their next move - rescuing a pair of astrophysicists. - Fic

K5: Dragon AU - The Silver Statue - James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers - Bucky finds a silver dragon statue in the ruins of an ancient castle. - Fic

Y1: Avengers - Eurovision Song Contest - N/A - Sam and Bucky are backpacking through Europe when they discover the remnants of their favourite college band, The Avengers, playing a gig in the tiny European country of Asgard. After sending them a round of drinks between sets they invite him and Sam to join them on stage. One song turns into two, turns into joining them again the next night and the night after that and the night after that and without being quite sure how it happened, they become the New Avengers and the Asgardian entry for the Eurovision Song Contest. - Moodboard

Y2: Picture of Bucky (TFATWS still) - The Odd Collection - Bucky & Sam - Bucky hadn’t intended to spend so much in the secondhand bookshop near his sister’s house but he’d forgotten to buy his nibling a birthday present. And then he remembered an article he’d read about cooking as therapy. Sam’s favourite thing about owning a secondhand bookshop was seeing what people bought, although he rarely saw a collection quite as odd as this but when the guy explained he couldn’t resist offering a suggestion of his own. - Moodboard

Y3: Ship-wrecked - The Quantum Cat - No ship - Everyone knows that if you give a cat catnip, it will go a little crazy. It’s a shame that no one knows what the Flerken equivalent to catnip is, because Goose got into the hors d’oeuvres and now the Avengers are scattered across the multiverse. Now it’s up to Sam to rescue the Avengers. - Fic

Y4: Handle With Care - July Round Robin - N/A - When Bucky agreed to help Natasha out on an undercover mission he never expected to become the kidnappee. - Fic

Y5: Cartoon of Bucky - The Winter Soldier - N/A - N/A - Moodboard

@buckybarnesbingo

#bbb 2021 #buckybarnesbingo2021 #masterpost #bucky barnes #sam wilson #darcy lewis #jane foster #brock rumlow #steve rogers #moodboards #fic

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vankasrc · 3 years

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Coucou !

J'ai été tag par la belle @its-a-h dans un challenge moodboard lancé par @scorpioconstellation alors je me suis lancée :3

rules : tapez : “votre prénom + core + aesthetic” dans la barre de recherche pinterest et choisissez les images qui vous correspondent le plus pour faire votre propre moodboard/aesthetic. puis tag 9 personnes à la suite. Si jamais vous ne souhaitez pas révéler votre prénom, vous pouvez toujours utiliser votre pseudo!

Ça n'a pas été facile vu la tête de mon pinterest, et le rendu est loin d'être joyeux mais c'est un mélange de ce qui me ressemble le plus en ce moment so... good luck with this *se cache*

Maintenant que mon tour est passé, j'appelle à la barre @rogers-graph @galactickid @a-child-ish @ellaenys @eternal-lust @stolas-rpg @canopvs @ssamiiex et @lalogedecoco ; aucune obligation (surtout si vous avez déjà été tag et que je n'ai pas vu vos créa *shame on me* en tout cas, amusez-vous ♥

Plein de bisous à tous !

#moodboard #aestethic #challenge #icon #200*200

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dancingbaek · 5 years

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To End in Ice and Fire | Part 5

Being born with a particular birthmark is the lurking fear every parent has in their hearts when they bring a child into this dark world. Your parents are the only ones who have never received relief when creating life, because they knew your soul would be damned for eternity when he finally comes to claim what’s his.

Moodboard // Prologue // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

Spoiler: Jongin is an angry little vampire.

The next morning is much of the same. You wake up a little disoriented, but nonetheless slide out of bed and into the slippers you left waiting. The floor is always so cold in the morning and in the evening and your slippers can hardly fend off the cold. You change into a different dress in the closet, into a deep blue gown that you had trouble lacing up because the corset was just the slightest bit too small. You remedy the situation by sliding on an overcoat, buttoning each and every button. It wards off the chill in the air and you pad slowly to the vanity pressed up to the wall you hadn’t noticed the day before in your confusion and terror.

There’s a large mirror attached to the back of it, with little drawers and a seat cushion set in front of it. On the table is a golden hairbrush, intricate designs spiraling in a circle over the back of it, a large ruby set in the center. A matching hand mirror sits beside it. The Count and Countess did not even have such luxurious items in their household as you suspected the gold might be entirely real. Aside from the two items is a black wooden box, quite plain compared to the jeweled handset. A curious peek inside reveals glittering pieces of jewelry – you spy a string of genuine pearls, sapphire earrings, and garnet and diamond studded bracelets before you quickly shut it.

Raking the brush through your tired locks of hair, you regard yourself in the back mirror. Despite sleeping clear through the night, you look weary. Though talking to Junmyeon the morning before shed some light on your current situation, it had done nothing to set your mind at ease. When you had left your home to make the walk to the church, you had every intention of dying. You had believed you would be ripped apart and drained, much like that innocent boy had been. You had been waiting for the inevitability of death your entire life. You had kneeled every Sunday in church and every night before bed, praying that when it came you could still be saved.

Junmyeon had confirmed that your kidnapper had not brought you here just to kill you. If anything, you gathered that you were regarded as a piece of property to him. Not exactly a new concept to you, considering most marriages were arranged and young women like yourself were bartered off to the man with the highest place in society and the heaviest change purse. You, being a reasonably attractive woman and coming from a well-respected family, would have been good enough to be sold to Richard’s family. You would have been the next Countess and inherited his mother’s jewels and good standing, however you would have never truly owned anything. Everything would be Richard’s, and you would just be a conduit for his children.

You stood from the vanity, blinking images from a future you might have had out of your head. Sweeping your hair off your shoulder you make your way out of your room. Much like the day before, the hallways are mainly lit by candles, the heavy curtains still drawn over the windows. The path to the dining hall is empty of people, and you half expect to see Junmyeon waiting for you at the head of the table. Instead, it too is void of others, however the table is spread with much of the same breakfast food from the day before. You fill a plate with various fruits and cuts of meat before you pause. Being the only one present, and likely the only one in the house, why should you not take the head of the table?

Sitting down where the patriarch typically would affords you a rush of gratification. Although you look out to a table without companionship, the new vantage points allows you to regain some semblance of control over your life. One small decision seems to be enough to propel you through the day.

Junmyeon strolls into the hall while you’re finishing off the last of the sweet grapes. The amusement is plain on his face when he sees where you’ve chosen to sit. Awkwardly you begin to rise from the chair, but he waves it off and sits a few seats down. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

“Yes…” You start, grasping for an excuse before you decide on a light shrug and the truth. “I did not expect to have company this morning.”

“I put in for an order of lemon tarts this morning for a reason.” Junmyeon states, leaning forward to pluck one from a plate. You watch him take a bite in confusion but decide not to question it. If the bloodsucking demon wanted to eat a lemon tart, you would let him enjoy it in peace.

“So might we revisit the reason on me being here?” You question him, watching him practically inhale the sweet treat and reach for a second.

“I believe I addressed why you were here yesterday.” Junmyeon states when he swallows. “And I believe I stated Yixing should be speaking with you.”

“If I’m to be forced to live here,” You begin, doing your best to keep the spite from your tone. “I’m going to need things that I do not currently have.”

“Like what?” Junmyeon questions, quirking an eyebrow, already halfway done with his second treat. There was only one remaining.

“Like…” You grasp for common items, not having expected him to actually care. “Well I’m going to need access to a bath, and soaps. Sanitary cloths for my cycles. Womanly things.”

“I’ll make sure to let Yixing know your list of demands for living here.” He states in amusement, standing and plucking the last treat from the table. “I’m sure he’ll fall over himself trying to get those things in order.”

He disappears from the room as you huff lightly, chewing on the last grape with more force than necessary. If they wanted to hold you hostage you at least had the right to be clean. After a few second of debating you rise from the head of the table, following him out to try to squeeze more answers out of him. He has already disappeared, and a quick search of the bottom floor shows that he must have made it up the stairs with alarming quiet and speed.

The rest of the day is spent trying to amuse yourself. You go on another tour of the castle, seeing if you can find anymore unlocked doors. There aren’t any. You run out of ideas to amuse yourself quickly and succumb to deciding to read the day away. While you love reading, it having been how you spent most of your days at home anyways, you had nothing else to do. You should have told Junmyeon to ask Yixing to procure more entertainment.

It is somehow easy demanding things from Junmyeon, or at least speaking to him in a normal manner. He was more human-like than Yixing had been, and if it weren’t for his red eyes and flash of pointed teeth you would have tempted to go as far and say the two of you could be friends. He felt more human, yes, but there were still times where he went far too long without blinking or you caught him looking at your throat.

The next few days pass by much the same. Despite not having a bible you say a short prayer every night, but you quickly begin to lose faith. You discover the room next to yours open the next day, inside being a large claw foot tub with steaming water. A table is set beside it, housing a plethora of soaps for your body and hair. A plush towel sits next to them. You close the door and bolt it shut, sitting in the scalding water until it turns cool and your skin is pruned. You took time to smell all of your options, settling on a mixture of vanilla and peppermint. You scrub and scrub and scrub until you have to get out and wrap the towel around your body.

In fact, every morning since your chat with Junmyeon has produced steaming bath water for your enjoyment. It immediately becomes the favorite part of your day, despite the piano that lulls you to sleep every night. You silently acknowledge the fact that not even those in the largest homes back in your village had the opportunity to bathe each and every day.

Junmyeon does not show up after the second day, but you find yourself not minding it. Though you miss human interaction, you’re content to wallow your days away in solitude, bath water, and tomes thicker than your torso. Which is exactly what you’re doing on the fifth day of the kidnapping – balancing a large book on your knees, peering down at the words in a plush chair in the library. Having chosen something outlining the lineage of a faraway land, you settled in with a cup of tea to read the afternoon away.

You awake sometime later. The curtains you had drawn to let in the late afternoon sun might as well have been shut with all the light that was left. The sky was dark, what light the moon cast hardly penetrating through the window. Sleepily you shift, your legs sliding out from under you and falling stiffly to floor.

Hissing as you pull your feet back, you feel the residual sharp pinpricks of how cold the floor was. Winter was certainly setting in. Blearily you reach down and fumble blindly for the slippers you had discarded before shoving your feet into them. This time you weren’t shocked when your feet hit the floor, and you pushed yourself out of the chair. You stretch your arms above your head, yawning obnoxiously before your mind wakes up enough to realize you can year the piano weaving its way into the library from the music room upstairs.

You’ve never been out of your room when you hear the piano. You still don’t know who plays it. It could be Junmyeon, sure, or it could be Yixing or some other demon you’ve yet to meet – okay, slow down, you tell yourself, taking a breath to steady your increasing thumping heartbeat. The library is on the first floor, the music room on the second, and your room on the third. All you have to do is be quiet going up the stairs.

Creeping outside the library, you’re met with the characteristic stillness of the household. No one is roaming the halls and there’s no noise outside of the soft, lilting melody of the piano keys. It’s even more beautiful now that there’s one less door between you and its location. Closing the door slowly behind you, you began to creep towards the grand staircase. Candles were lighted in their perches on the walls, casting yellow and orange hues against the dark stone. Just a few stairs up, you pause. Was it the fourth or the fifth stair that creaked under added weight? You take a moment to wrack your brain for an answer before you decide to hike up your skirts and stretch to the sixth stair.

Narrowly avoiding a leg cramp, you push yourself back to a respectable position, straightening out your skirts and continuing to sneak up the rest of the staircase. There was only one other stair you had to avoid, and when you reached the top you mentally gave yourself a round of applause. One flight of stairs down, one flight of stairs to go. As you begin your light trek down the hallway towards the next flight of stairs, the feathery lilt of melody swelled, working towards a climax of what you were sure was to be an amazing end of –

“Hello.” A honeyed voice sounded from behind you. You spin in mid stride to face whoever spoke, but there’s no one there. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, squinting lightly into the weak light cast by the candles. There’s no one there.

“In front of you.” The same voice speaks from behind you once more. You spin again, this time coming face to face with another demon. You take an involuntary step back, back towards the stairs.

He’s easily the most attractive of the three. Towering above you, you see deep chocolate hair parted in the front, and his skin must have been naturally rich because last you knew these demons could not go out in the sun. His skin practically glowed despite the weak lighting, but that’s where the warmth stopped. A sharp jawline, plump lips quirked into a smirk, a straight nose, strong eyebrows, and blood red eyes. Junmyeon’s – even Yixing’s – had life in them, emotion and personality. This man’s were cold, lifeless. Dead, just like him.

“It’s rude not to speak when spoken to.” His voice is huskier than when he first spoke, but still dripping in honey. Immaculately dress, his jacket was unbuttoned halfway, his white shirt underneath similarly unbuttoned. An expanse of tanned skin showed, and you could practically see the iron muscles ripple underneath.

“Hello.” You suddenly find your voice and dip into an uncertain curtsy. He’s different from Junmyeon, different from Yixing. While you knew that they were both deadly, they didn’t look at you like you were a meal. They didn’t look through you.

The man in front of you suddenly smiled a full, toothy grin – and displayed for the first time the fangs you had heard so many rumors about when they spoke of the dead bodies found in the morning. Long, sharp, and almost mockingly glinting in the faint light – you couldn’t help but take another step back.

“That was adorable.” He stated in an amused tone. Your face flushed, and the thought of his fangs again sent your pulse skyrocketing. His eyes darted down to your neck, and he cocked his head to the side. It was as if he could hear your accelerated heart rate. A pink tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, eyes not straying from your neck. You take another step back.

“Just a taste.” He says to himself in a low tone, the amusement from before having vanished as quick as it showed and his eyelids drooped low, hooded. The piano has stopped, but you have no time to take note of this fact. His lips pull back to reveal his fangs again as he leans forward, arms reaching out to keep you from running away. It was like a train wreck. Fear consumed you, rooting you to your place and the only thing you could do was screw your eyes shut in an attempt to ignore what was happening.

“Here to save your little mate, hm, Xing?” The handsome man ground out, and you managed to crack open your eyes. Directly in front of you was a broad back clad in a black suit jacket. Even from behind, even from his shortened name you could tell it was Yixing. Something deep inside of your soul told you it was him.

“You should not touch ladies without permission, Jongin.” Yixing speaks, his voice even. The first time he had spoken to you it had been soft, gentle – now it had an undercurrent of suppressed anger and barely contained contempt. The power shifted in the hallway away from the demon named Jongin and he felt it immediately. From peeking around Yixing, you saw him retreat a few steps. His eyes flickered from Yixing’s to yours, and he sneered.

“Ladies shouldn’t be wandering at night. They don’t know what lurks in the shadows.” He warned, and then he was simply gone. You didn’t blink, at least you don’t think you did; he was just there one moment and gone the next.

Yixing turned to face you after a moment. His hair hung over his forehead now, but he was still just as beautiful. Red eyes peered down at you, and you couldn’t make it past the startling closeness to see the concern clouding them. You take another step backwards, trying to get some physical space in an effort to clear get a grip on your mind.

Except this time, your foot does meet the smooth wooden planks along the floor. Instead, it’s met by nothing but thin air and belatedly you realize that, in your terror of the demon, you had retreated to the first staircase. Having no time to correct your mistake, your body tips backwards as your balance is thrown off. As your arms flail out to try to regain control you let out a very unbecoming yelp at the prospect of falling down the stairs and likely cracking your head open on a step or the landing.

Once again Yixing is there to save you. He reaches to grab hold of your hand, pulling you away from the steps and pivots you around so he’s between you and your close brush with an embarrassment you would never live down. His hands are cold, impossibly cold, and the grip he has on you sends your heartbeat into overtime – scratch that, the proximity he’s holding you at does. One arm has snaked around your waist to hold you firmly to his body, as if he could protect you wholly from making another stupid mistake tonight. His slim build does nothing to hide the fact that he is solid muscle. His hands may be comparable to ice, but his core body just seems to lack heat and is cool through the few layers of clothing he has on. Your own body seems to thrum with the closeness of him, something stirring deep inside of you.

“Careful, little one.” His tone is scolding while his lips are pressed into a thin line, brows scrunched together. The concern is hard to miss this time and the revelation that this heartless being is showing some semblance of kindness to you sends you spiraling further.

Heat colors your cheeks, making it hard to deny the embarrassment you were feeling with the whole situation. Yixing’s eyes rake over your features and you note offhand that his Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow. It’s a similar reaction Jongin had before he tried to tear into your neck, however you find it hard to react to Yixing the same way. “I-I am so sorry.”

You’re sorry? You instantly cringe at the fact you had apologized to the man – the thing that had kidnapped you from a church just days beforehand. He must have something similar running through his mind because the widening of his eyes and slow blink tell the story. “You’re sorry?” He questions, shaking his head and letting go of you. Somehow, you’re left feeling colder when he does. “You should not apologize for having an appropriate reaction to my kind. You have nothing at all to apologize for.”

“The piano stopped.” You note out loud, voice surprisingly even. Yixing regards you closely, being able to tell so much had happened in such a short period of time for you that you were choosing to focus on the small things before you tackle the large ones. “Were you playing it?”

“Yes,” Yixing answers, adding more gently, “I think it’s time for you to get into bed, little one.”

“I think you’re right.” You concede. He moves to the side, gesturing politely that you continue on your way. The first few steps are a bit wobbly, still feeling blindsided by the events that just transpired. A blood thirsty demon trying to rip into your neck, another, slightly less blood thirsty demon saving you from him, and then saving you from your own clumsy self. You had found yourself wishing these past few days to just run into Yixing again so you could demand that he release you, demand that he take you home unharmed and leave you be. But here he was, looking impossibly handsome in the flickering light, being kind, and you could not bring yourself to do so.

He follows a pace behind, his presence following you down the hall and up another flight of stairs. When you enter your bedroom, he stops in the doorway; lingering, watching. You pull the blankets back from the bed, trying to think of what to say to the red-eyed man.

“Sleep well.” He states softly, beating you to it and reaching in to take hold of the doorknob, beginning to shut the door. Your heart leaps in your throat at the thought of being alone, at the thought of Jongin being somewhere in the house. They don’t know what lurks in the shadows. When Jongin had spoken it, you had taken it as a serious warning. It flared up in your mind again, spreading through you like wildfire.

“Wait!” The panic in your voice made him halt, looking up at you with widened eyes. “What if he ends up coming back?”

Yixing drew himself up to his full height, shoulders tense and expression solemn. “Jongin will not come back, nor will he hurt you. I will not let anyone hurt you. I promise it.” His tone was even but laced with seriousness you had not expected. It was hard not to believe the words when he conveyed them so earnestly.

You turn from him, trying to steady the warmth that spread through you at his sudden flare of protectiveness. Keeping your voice as even as possible, you manage to murmur, “I believe you,” as you slide out of your slippers and into bed. “And I want to talk tomorrow.”

Yixing nods, beginning to close the door once more. “Good night, little one.”

You shrug out of your coat and unlace the corset, shrugging them both off before you lay down in bed, pulling the blankets up high. The piano never starts back up, but you don’t find difficulty in drifting off.

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hotforharrison · 5 years

Text

Unholy Divinity ch 8

Chapter 7 <-- Series Masterlist --> Chapter 9

Amazing moodboard by hazssouthernbelle <3

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield/Reader/Tom Holland

Summary: Choosing to spend your eternity in heaven or hell should be easy, right? Yeah, not so much.

Word Count: 1,730

Warnings: Language & Smut

A/N: After reading an entirely unsatisfying smutty fic involving a fucking machine, in which reader got absolutely no action herself from the fucking machine, I am now starting to write a oneshot to fill the gap that fic left in my life. That’ll probably be the next thing I post.

While you were waiting for your turn under the warm spray of the shower, Tom’s fingers swiped through the mess he’d left between your legs, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

“Do you want us to get you really messy, darling? Take turns filling you up with cum until you’re absolutely dripping with it?” Tom asked, kissing you deeply.

You whimpered into his mouth.

Harrison chuckled. “Jesus, Tom, the filthy things that come out of your mouth.”

Tom broke the kiss, leaving you panting. “Not something you want, Harrison?”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Harrison told Tom.

“Thought so,” Tom said, grinning.

“I think you’re traumatizing our girl, though,” Harrison commented, looking amused.

You laughed softly. “I’m not traumatized, just...surprised, I guess. I mean we’re in heaven.”

“And creampies don’t seem very heavenly to you?” Tom asked.

You laughed again. “Yes and no. I’ve never been, like, staunchly vanilla.”

“I sense a ‘but’ here,” Tom said.

You nodded. “But I didn’t expect to be sleeping with two men at the same time in the afterlife, with all that entails in bed. Where do you even get lube?”

“It’s not that hard. I’ve got some already. I can get some more, and anything else you might want,” Harrison told you.

Tom’s eyes glinted mischievously. “I might have a list.”

“What have I gotten myself into?” you asked, teasingly.

“I know what I’ve gotten myself into,” Tom said.

After Harrison finished, you got under the spray. “And what would that be?”

“You. Repeatedly,” Tom answered, smirking.

You giggled, washing yourself clean with a neutrally scented soap. You watched the water bead on your wings as it cascaded down your body. Your wings were apparently water resistant, even the soft downy parts nearest to your skin.

When you finished and moved aside, Tom took his turn, scrubbing himself from head to toe. After he was finished, he turned off the water.

Harrison grabbed three towels from the linen closet, handing one to you and one to Tom.

You dried yourself in a comfortable silence, careful of your wings, and followed Harrison and Tom out into the bedroom.

“Ready for the grand tour?” Harrison asked.

“Definitely!” you responded.

“Alright. This is obviously my room. Not much to see here,” Harrison started.

The next door in the hallway was another bedroom, colors and decor a muted masculine, the bed a queen size instead of the king in Harrison’s.

“This is my room,” Tom said. “I have a smaller bed because I didn’t really think I’d be entertaining two people in it. I could technically get a larger one, but Harrison’s room should be fine for now.”

He showed you his attached bathroom, which had a large tub that would be nice for soaking in or bubble baths. “Not really big enough for three people, but if we wanted to take turns with you.” He shrugged.

The last door in the hallway led to what looked like a home office with two desks with computer monitors on top and another bookshelf, this one less full.

“We can add a third desk in for you, if you like,” Harrison offered.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you said.

“It’s not,” Tom quickly responded. “This is your home, too, now.”

The thought that you now shared a home with your two, well, boyfriends? Is that what they were? You hadn’t really had a talk about putting labels on your relationship yet.

After showing you the office, they led you through the hallway back into the living room, large with a couple of recliners, a sofa, and a loveseat surrounding a glass coffee table, centered around the wall-mounted television. Below the television was a media chest. There were a couple of video game controllers on top of it.

“You can play games in heaven?” you asked, surprised.

Tom stepped up to the media chest and opened a drawer to reveal a bunch of video game controllers for different gaming systems. “Whatever system or game you’re in the mood for.”

“Wow, heaven is cooler than I thought it would be,” you told him. “I thought it would be kind of boring.”

Both boys chuckled.

There were a couple of bookshelves against the wall with two floor to ceiling windows on it. The bookshelves were mostly full of books and knickknacks. You’d explore those later.

Next was the kitchen, decked out with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops.

“This is really nice for not even needing to eat,” you commented.

“I still like to cook,” Harrison said. “I’ll make you dinner sometime.”

You smiled. “I’d like that.”

Attached to the kitchen was a pantry and a laundry room.

“And that’s it. Now that there’s three of us, we could move somewhere with more space, a house instead of an apartment. I’m fine with it either way,” Harrison told you.

You shrugged. “I’m fine here. It’s not like I need my own bedroom when I don’t sleep, and even if I did, I’d prefer to share with both of you.”

“We can make space in one of our closets for your wardrobe, after you get some more clothes,” Tom said. “Harrison can take you out to get some more things to wear later.”

You frowned that Tom didn’t want to come along, but you understood. The other angels didn’t seem to appreciate his presence. You wondered if the risk of getting overthrown as king of hell was better or worse than being a pariah.

“Hey,” Tom said, apparently knowing where the expression on your face came from. “I’m nowhere I don’t want to be. There’s no place better than where I get to spend eternity with my girl and best mate.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry things are harder for you here.”

“Thanks, love. They’re not really harder, not at all. Just different. It’ll take some getting used to, but I’m 100% genuinely happy to be here with you and Harrison,” he reassured you.

“What do you guys do for fun here?” you asked, curious.

Harrison and Tom exchanged a glance before Harrison responded, “well, we can watch TV or a movie, play a video game together…”

“And there’s always fucking like bunnies some more,” Tom added with a laugh.

You laughed, too, for a moment. “But you used to do something else?”

“Yeah, we used to go out a lot,” Harrison admitted. “There’s enough to do that you’ll never get bored, even with not needing sleep anymore.”

You bit your lip, thinking. “Are there times when things are less busy?”

“Since no one needs to sleep, it’s pretty unpredictable,” Tom answered. “There’s still daytime and nighttime here, and some things are less popular during one or the other. I’ll probably try to golf one night soon, see how it goes. I have missed that.”

“Can I go with you?” you asked.

“You’re always welcome to go with me anywhere I go, darling,” Tom told you, wrapping his arms around you, careful of your wings, and kissing you.

You smiled into the kiss when his tongue found its way into your mouth, and his hands slid down to grab your ass. Your hand reached out in Harrison’s general direction, encouraging him to join you.

Harrison pressed himself into you from behind, right up against your wings. His lips brushed against your neck, moving down to where your wings met your skin.

You broke the kiss and tipped your head back against Harrison.

He lifted his head from your wings and looked at you.

Your lips met his in a brief kiss. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he responded.

“I really want you inside me,” you told him.

Tom stepped back and turned you around wordlessly.

Harrison easily lifted you, and you lined him up with your entrance so he could sink inside you in one long thrust.

“God, you fill me up so good,” you commented.

Harrison paused for you to adjust. “And you’re so hot and wet for me. Feels fucking amazing, pretty girl.”

Tom pressed against you from behind, his dick sliding against your crack.

“What are you…” you trailed off.

“Do you want us to fill you up real good, darling? Take my big hard cock up your tight little arse while Harrison’s filling up your pussy? I bet we could fuck you so good and make you cum so many times that all you could remember is our names, and only because you’d be screaming them over and over,” Tom said against your ear.

Arousal overwhelmed your underlying nervousness, and you grinded back against him eagerly.

“Considering how much wetter she just got, I think she likes the idea, mate,” Harrison commented, grinning.

You met Tom’s eyes as he smirked down at you.

“Please?” you begged.

“Not right now,” Tom said.

You whimpered pathetically.

“Shh, I know, darling,” Tom soothed you. “We’ll need to prep you first, though, and take things nice and slow. I’m never going to hurt you when I can prevent it.”

You nodded, but the thought was enough that it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge, with Harrison already fucking you so nicely. Your hand snaked between your body and Harrison’s to find your clit.

“Nope.” Tom pulled it to the side and replaced it with his own, fingers briefly exploring. “God, you were right about her being wet, Harrison. She’s fucking soaked.”

“Tom?” you asked.

“Yeah, love?” he responded.

“Make me cum?” you requested.

“Of course,” he said and rubbed slick circles on your clit, obviously not intending to tease.

Your climax hit you hard, legs squeezing more tightly around Harrison while white hot pleasure shot through you.

Harrison fucked you roughly through it while Tom rocked his hips against you from behind.

When you gradually drifted down from your high, you noticed you were practically dripping cum from both the front and the back. “Tom, did you?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, sheepishly. “I didn’t really intend to, but…”

“I love when I make either or both of you cum. I’m a mess, though. I think we need another shower,” you commented.

Your boys put you down for a brief moment, before Tom lifted you up and moved his wings out of the way to heft you over his shoulder and carry you toward Harrison’s room.

“Hey!” you complained, feigning annoyance, but your giggles betrayed you.

tag list: @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @adayasgeorgia @moorehollandplz @thollandss @dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug @relise-thefury @strang-ersclub @hollandisapuppy @goldenpeaxh @eeyore101247 @unholyhaz @definitely-not-black-cat @vintageroses1014516 @spidermanffh3000 @superheroesaremytea @worldoftom

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carmenlire · 5 years

Text

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 48

amazing moodboard courtesy of @kindaresilient!

read chapter one

read on ao3

Alec looks over as the door to his dressing room opens, smiling as his boyfriend pokes his head in.

“Hey, you,” Magnus says as he kicks the door closed.

“Hey, yourself. How are things out there?”

Setting his drink down on the vanity, Alec hears the tinkling of ice against the glass as Magnus wraps his arms around his neck from behind. Leaning down until their cheeks brush, he turns his head a little so that he can lay a kiss over Alec’s jaw.

“Last I saw, the crowd had started spontaneously singing one of your songs. Chocolate Raspberry, I think?”

Alec smiles a little, just a tilt of his mouth that betrays his endless relief and gratitude. “I always love when they do that.”

“It gave me chills,” Magnus agrees. “Thousands of people singing something you wrote acapella is a little eerie.”

“You never get used to it,” Alec says softly and there’s something there, behind the words, lingering in the undertones so that he’s not surprised when he sees Magnus’s eyes sharpen in the mirror.

“And how are things in here, Alexander?”

Alec doesn’t say anything for a moment, instead taking the time to look at the image the two of them present in the vanity’s mirror. So close they’re touching, Magnus’s hair tickling his ear, his boyfriend wrapped around him with a warmth that makes him shiver.

His mouth upturns slowly until he’s grinning, until his eyes crinkle at the corners in a hint of the laugh lines that will start forming in just a few years.

“We’re pretty damn good, babe.”

He’s gratified to hear Magnus snort out a laugh as his arms tighten around Alec’s neck.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that, darling. I was a little worried.”

Shrugging a little, Alec swivels his chair around until he’s facing Magnus, bringing him in until he’s between spread thighs. With fingers hooked into his belt loops, Alec tugs him closer.

“I’m always a little sentimental before my first show of the tour. It never gets old, you know? Sorry if I worried you.”

Magnus waves that away with a quiet smile. He reaches out a hand, sweeps a thumb over Alec’s cheek before cupping his face. “No need to apologize, I assure you. I’m just happy to see that you don’t appear to suffer from stage fright.”

Alec laughs. “No, I’ve never really been one to get nervous in front of crowds-- and good thing too. I had my meet and greet and soundcheck a couple of hours ago and everyone was friendly and excited. It helped temper any nerves that may have cropped up anyway. No, I was just thinking about the past year-- the past decade since my career took off.”

“Good things I hope?”

“The very best,” Alec assures him. His gaze drops down to the mostly undone buttons of Magnus’s shirt, to the bare skin visible between silk. He raises a brow as he laughs to himself.

“Did you know that I’ve ripped my pants on stage before? And I fell once-- well, twice,” Alec corrects with a grimace. “It was raining and the stage was slick as hell. My ass was bruised for a week.”

“Poor Alec,” Magnus drawls, reaching out with his other hand to rest against his chest. “However did you recover?”

Alec just sends him a droll look. “I laughed it off and hobbled over to the mic stand. I stayed in the same spot pretty much the entire concert. Walking hurt too much.”

“At least it’s sunny today, not a cloud in the sky.”

“Yeah,” Alec agrees. “But that just means it’s a hundred degrees and when the stage lights go up, it’s going to feel like I’m boiling.”

“It is summer in New York, darling.”

Huffing out a laugh, Alec just replies, “Hazards of the job, I suppose.”

Silence falls over them and while Alec can hear the shout of his techs out in the hallway, in his dressing room it’s a goddamn oasis of tranquility. While Alec was always more than willing to help out-- he was a very small piece of the performance, after all, even if he was the most visible-- he was usually left alone before the concert to get ready, relax, have a drink with some friends.

It leaves a lot of room to think.

They’ve been skirting the topic for ages, it seems. It’s been almost two months since his album dropped back in June and Alec had watched as the start date for his tour grew closer and closer with anticipation and dread.

Tonight was a home show in New York to kick off his tour. The first date of over a hundred. The first night in a long line that wouldn’t wrap up for over six months.

As Alec looks up and meets Magnus’s eyes, he sees that knowledge there, the grim reality.

“So,” Alec starts, tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip. “Tonight’s the night, huh?”

Magnus smiles though it doesn’t quite manage to reach his eyes. “It is and I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

Alec relaxes in his seat a little before he reaches up and grabs Magnus’s hands, intertwining their fingers. He squeezes a little before tugging Magnus closer until he gets the hint and straddles him.

Raising their hands up to his lips, he kisses the back of Magnus’s hands. “How are you feeling,” Alec asks and he tenses a little as he waits for an honest answer.

Magnus hums a little and this time when he smiles, it’s real even if it’s a little wan. “While I’m looking forward to seeing you perform, I’ll admit it’s a little bittersweet.”

“Yeah,” Alec breathes, tightening his hands on Magnus’s hips. “It’ll be an adjustment.”

Magnus’s hands go into his hair, careful not to muss too much, as he says, “There’s always texting and face time and who knows,” he teases, “Maybe I’ll even be able to visit you for a few dates during the fall semester.”

“I’m in Amsterdam and Germany during Columbia’s fall break,” Alec replies immediately and his grin turns smug as his boyfriend just stares at him. “What,” he asks coyly. “So I did a little research when I got the finalized itinerary.”

Magnus shakes his head a little, bemused, before tilting his face up with a finger under his chin. He leans down and kisses Alec and he breathes easier at the gesture.

“Well, then,” he says softly. “I’ve always wanted to visit Berlin and the Netherlands.”

He leans down a little more and Alec’s eyes sweep shut as their foreheads touch. They breathe each other in and distantly, Alec knows that he has to start getting ready in earnest for his show but he’s loathe to do anything that will take him away from Magnus. This is the first of three nights in New York City and he wants to steal every second he can with his boyfriend.

It feels like grains of sand, golden and all too fleeting, are falling through his fingers and he knows it's only a few months but that doesn't make the prospect of going weeks and months without being with Magnus any easier. He's trying to hold onto as many grains-- as many seconds and minutes and memories-- as he can before his tour bus rolls out of the city in a few days.

Never enough, he thinks. He could have an eternity with Magnus and it would never be enough.

His nose wrinkles when he feels Magnus brush it with his own, pulling him away from his thoughts. Easing away the tiniest bit, Alec opens his eyes to stare up at his boyfriend.

He sees bright eyes and artfully done makeup. He sees intelligence and wit and so much warmth that it reaches out, wraps around Alec’s bones until he figures he’ll never be cold again.

He sees his life, so much different than it was a few years ago. The tour is bigger, the stakes always higher. The man in front of him is his solace, though, his eye of the storm.

Magnus is everything to Alec and his chest cracks open at the knowledge.

His breath fractures and Alec’s mouth kicks up. “I’ve never done this before, you know.”

Making some noise of confusion, Magnus strokes along the back of Alec’s neck with a raised brow.

“I’m notorious for tour being no strings attached.”

“Yes, I’d heard,” Magnus replies dryly.

Glaring without heat, Alec runs his hands down Magnus’s thighs. “I just want to be sure that you know this is a first for me, too. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.” Looking up, his smile is small and barely there when he asks, “Just don’t forget about me, okay?”

Magnus is quiet for a moment and Alec sees something shift in his expression, too quick for him to pin down, before it settles into humor. “I’ll make you a deal,” his boyfriend says lowly. “I won’t forget about you as long as you don’t forget about me.”

“Not a chance in hell, Magnus. I couldn’t forget about you if I tried.” His voice drops to a whisper as he adds, “You’re it for me, babe.”

Tension ratchets up, a heady promise. Before their lips can connect-- before they can say another word-- the door to the dressing room is flying open and Lydia’s walking in, phone to her ear as she scowls at the two of them.

Magnus climbs off Alec and he shakes his head, laughing to himself as Alec lets him go but not without sweeping a hand over his ass. Magnus sends him a wry look he pretends not to catch.

Lydia hangs up and shoves her phone in to her pocket before giving both of them a once over. “How are you feeling Alec? It’s forty five minutes to show time.”

Alec’s reply is easy as he answers, “Never been better,” with a surreptitious wink in Magnus’s direction.

It’s Lydia who rolls her eyes but she only maintains her stern look for a few seconds before she eases into a grin. She walks over to him, spins him around until he’s facing the vanity mirror once again. The lights are bright as she slaps her hands on top of his shoulders and meets his eyes through the glass.

“Ready for another go around the block?”

Alec grins. “You know it.”

Lydia laughs, patting his shoulder a few times before stepping back. “Get ready then,” she scolds goodnaturedly. “Simon’s killing it out there and the crowd is definitely ready for you.”

She leaves just a few moments later, waving at Magnus on her way out.

Alec looks up, meets Magnus’s eyes. “What were your plans until the concert started?”

“Why,” Magnus asks, standing from where he’d been relaxing on the couch.

Arching a brow, Alec reaches for the eyeliner. When he waves it, there’s a challenge heating his eyes. “Thought you might want to make yourself useful.”

Magnus laughs as he takes the few strides over to the vanity. He plucks the eyeliner out of Alec’s hand before flicking him on the shoulder. “Oh,” he asks idly. “I thought you had people for that?”

Shrugging a little, Alec nudges Magnus’s shoe with his own as his chair is spun around yet again. “If I feel like makeup, I usually do it. I already have a wardrobe designer on tour. No need for a makeup artist too whenever the most I ever do is, like, eyeliner.”

“Well, then,” Magnus says archly. “Say no more, darling.”

The next few minutes pass silently. Alec’s breath catches in his chest as Magnus leans close, as he follows murmured directions to close his eyes. His breath shudders out and Alec smells the whiskey on Magnus’s breath and he laughs a little, stills almost immediately after hushed orders not to mess up his boyfriend’s work.

Magnus pulls back but Alec still doesn’t open his eyes. Instead, he sighs as he feels Magnus’s hand sweep over a brow and down his cheek.

“Beautiful,” Magnus whispers and when Alec opens his eyes it’s to see his boyfriend leveling him with a stare, intent.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Alec demurs and then he’s laughing out loud as Magnus harrumphs, as he shoves playfully at his shoulder.

Someone knocks on the door and it’s the costume designer with his outfit for the night. Magnus acknowledges her and then his train of thought’s lost as Magnus pulls him in for a smacking kiss before grabbing the glass he’d left on the vanity and starting toward the door.

Looking over his shoulder, Magnus says, “I’ll let you get changed in peace. See you later.”

Alec nods back and then the costume designer’s closing the door and motioning for Alec to undress while she unzips the garment bag.

Alec rakes a critical gaze over the finished suit and he’s pleased with the result. It was linen and the button down that accompanied it was almost see-through, easily breathable for whenever the stage inevitably grew too warm.

The turquoise tone is warm against his skin and, deciding to take a page out of his boyfriend’s book, Alec leaves a few buttons undone.

After making sure all’s well, the designer leaves and Alec’s left alone. He only has fifteen minutes or so before it’s time to take his place and mic up and Alec breathes deep in the quiet of his dressing room.

Leaning down until he rests flat palms against the counter, Alec leans close to the mirror, stares into his own kohl-rimmed eyes, runs his gaze over a perfect complexion thanks to stage makeup and last night’s face mask.

He’s twenty seven and at the top of his game. His tour is sold out-- every date, every venue. There’s fifteen thousand people waiting just outside these doors to see him, to hear his music, to have a night that they’ll always remember.

It’s heady and overwhelming in the best goddamn way.

He smiles a little, tracks the shift of expression in the mirror. He’s done this a thousand times and if he has anything to say about it, he will a thousand more. Magnus is his constant and even if he’s in a different city every night, he hopes he can be the same for his boyfriend.

“Let’s do this,” he says under his breath.

Turning, Alec’s left his dressing room and is just about to make the final turn to where the stage is when someone wraps a hand around his arm. Alec looks over his shoulder, expecting a tech with panic in their eyes from an impending disaster that’s always in the periphery of tour. Instead, he sees a man that fills his mouth with a sour taste.

“What the hell are you doing here,” Alec hisses before wrenching his arm free.

Jordan raises his hands in an appeasing move. “There was a time I was on the standing invitation list.”

“Yeah, well, those days are over,” Alec snaps back. “How the fuck did you get through security?”

“I have my ways,” Jordan replies slyly but when Alec doesn’t say anything, just stares at him without flinching, the man begrudgingly adds, “I may have bribed Raj.”

“Fucking Raj.” Alec curses viciously under his breath before glaring at Jordan. “You need to leave.”

Jordan ignores the threat in Alec’s eyes. He moves closer until he’s just in front of Alec and Alec’s gut twists at the lascivious once over he’s treated to.

“We had some great times last tour, Alec. I didn’t think it was out of the question to think we might have a few more this time around.”

“You thought wrong,” Alec grits out.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything else before Jordan reaches out, trailing a finger over his open shirt. The bastard has a spare second to dip below the linen before Alec snatches his hand, tightening his fist around it.

“In case you’ve been living under a rock, I’m taken.” Alec’s voice is low, feels forced from his throat.

To his frustration, Jordan doesn’t back off, just smiles and it’s smarmy. Alec’s left feeling distinctly unclean at the fact that he let the man anywhere near him once upon a time. Exasperated, he reflects that he’d had no idea Jordan would take his ignoring his calls so ill-mannerly.

“You were always up for a good time, Lightwood. Don’t tell me that’s changed now.”

Alec smiles but it’s cold. “Oh no, I’m still always up for a good time. It’s just that now I have my fun with my boyfriend. Magnus.”

Jordan’s stare is incredulous when it lands on him, when it lifts from his chest. “You can’t really expect me to believe that, can you? Alec Lightwood’s, what? You’re monogamous now? A one man kind of guy? I call bullshit. There’s no way-- especially when you have tour about to start.”

“I don’t give a good goddamn what you think, Jordan. All you need to know is the last time we fucked, it was the last. I don’t cheat and I don’t lie. Now I suggest you leave before I really get angry.”

Alec twists his hand, and he’s gratified to hear Jordan’s little grunt of pain before he’s moving smoothly back, just in time for security to come barreling up to him. With a curt nod, Alec lets them have Jordan, who’s cursing him as he’s taken to the exit.

“Hawkblue,” Alec calls out, not looking back to his Head of Security.

“Yes, boss?”

“Raj won’t be here when I get to the venue tomorrow. Got it?”

There’s a beat of silence before Jessica’s answers smoothly. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Alec’s mouth twists in a wry grin and as he looks down at his watch, he curses as he sees there’s only five minutes until the concert starts. Right on time, the lights outside in the audience go out and the shrieks are almost enough to make his ears bleed.

God, he loves it.

Turning on his heel, Alec’s just set to hurry to get his mic and earpieces. He stumbles to a stop when he sees the person casually leaning against the wall, arm crossed, watching him silently.

“Magnus,” Alec greets. He wracks his brain for any hint of when his boyfriend might have joined the scene. “What’s up?”

He watches as Magnus’s mouth kicks up before he’s straightening. When Alec reaches him, Magnus still hasn’t said anything and then he’s grabbing Alec by the lapels and pulling him close for a searing kiss that launches Alec’s brain offline.

When Magnus ends the kiss, they’re both breathing hard and Magnus is grinning when he says, “I like this suit, darling.”

“Yeah,” Alec breathes in the space between their mouths.

“Oh yeah,” Magnus echoes and then he’s pulling Alec in for a lingering kiss that’s twice as intent as the first. “Break a leg.”

And then Magnus is shoving him away, towards the stage. On the clock visible behind the stage, Alec sees he has two minutes to mic up and he’s cursing and laughing as he turns to the sound tech that’s waiting impatiently at the edge of the stage.

“Alexander.”

Alec takes the mic pack as he looks over his shoulder to see Magnus studying him intently.

“Yeah, babe,” Alec asks when the silence stretches between them.

Magnus’s grin is wicked, a little sharp, as he merely offers, “I like you taken.”

It takes Alec a second to place the words and when he does, his eyes widen before he’s grimacing. He takes a sharper look at Magnus but his boyfriend looks perfectly unperturbed. Deciding to trust his gut, Alec shoots back, “Then it's a good thing that I like being taken.”

Magnus’s expression lightens and then they’re both laughing and Alec swears that if he wasn’t about to walk out on stage in front of thousands of people that he’d haul Magnus close and never let go.

He sees the rueful acknowledgement in Magnus’s eyes and then the crowd just yards away is absolutely losing their minds as the timer on stage starts blinking a row of zeroes.

Showtime.

Alec shoves his earpieces in and strides out to his mark. Everything falls away except the chants of the crowd, their screams, their love and support and fury that never stops making his chest ache under the onslaught.

The opening notes to his latest single starts and Alec picks up the mic and hits his cue dead on.

The lights come up, bathing him in warm golds and blues. He can only see the first few rows from his vantage point and as he nears the edge of the stage he looks down into the grinning faces of his family as they sing along to his music in the front row.

The crowd is an echoing cry and he sees countless phone lights in a veritable sea of fans. He pulls the mic away from his face at the last chorus and it’s only a little bit to catch his breath.

He’s stunned but unsurprised when the crowd fills the stadium, singing his words back to him, following his melody until it feels like the venue will collapse under the weight of it all.

Alec feels on top of the world and when he turns his face away from the crowd and looks to the side of the stage, he sees Magnus singing along, too, and his heart feels fit enough to burst inside his chest.

He wonders how a body’s meant to contain it all. He feels happy and full and like every damn dream he’s ever had has come true.

He smiles at Magnus, nods in a gesture that he knows is arrogant and cocksure but he just can’t help himself.

Magnus laughs and dances a little in his place and Alec swallows hard as he turns to look back at the blinding crowd.

He’s on top of the world and there’s not a fucking thing he’d change about it all.

Every failure, every nerve-wracking bit of doubt has brought him here and it coalesces in Alec’s chest, makes him shudder on the pedestal that he’s by turns resented and yearned for since the start. He’s luckier than most, Alec reflects, and he still has his whole life ahead of him.

With Magnus at his side, Alec knows anything’s possible.

As he brings his mic back up, as the song transitions into what will be his next single in the fall-- and hadn’t that music video with Magnus been a blast to film-- Alec lets it wrap around him, gives himself up to the feelings crashing through him.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

#this is the last chapter of the story proper!!#the next two chapters are a double epilogue:')#we really are almost finished with this fic huh #httbt #my writing #malec fic #malec wip

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kyluxtitleception · 5 years

Text

Kylux Titleception 2019 Masterlist of Works

Fics (SFW):

Result of Suffering by Kylo_Rens_Slashed_Face (Tauntaun_Logistics)

Rating: M

Fools in Your Garden by thewightknight

Rating: G

Hux's garden was his prize and joy. The pokestop in it was the bane of his existence.

The Beast Behind You by thewightknight

Rating: G

Kylo's Valentine's day present to Hux is fluffy, adorable, and has sticky paws.

Summer Sadness by thewightknight

Rating: G

Ben should be excited. It was the last day of school, and all of summer stretched out before them. But at the end of it, Hux would be leaving

And the worms ate into his brain! by RainbowGirl410

Rating: Not Rated

Ben likes to tell stories, and Armitage listens, even though he doesn't care for them half the time.

Whiskey Fever by StrokeofStupidity

Rating: G

Hux is in his office when he hears the heartbreaking cry of his son. Meanwhile Kylo is sick with the flu. Will this family be able to find some peace?

Don't worry, this is fluff. The answer is yes.

Staring at the Sun by rudbeckia

Rating: T

It’s 1952. WW2 is over but not forgotten, rationing has not yet ended, and the world is still not at peace.

Kylo Ren, failed pilot, failed member of a religious order and son of a politician, has left the USA to avoid potentially embarrassing his mother with career-ending scandal. He aims to live quietly as the owner of a bookstore in a coastal village in Britain.

Armitage Hux, the last Lord Arkanis, is a man who has responded to accusations surrounding his fascist father’s death by retreating to the last habitable room in the once-great Arkanis Manor, its library, and is well on the way to becoming a recluse.

Over a shared love of literature and sunrise over the sea, despite misunderstandings and secrecy, they meet and tentatively find common ground.

Catacomb Visitors by dreamyafterdark

Rating: T

Kylo brings a badly injured Hux to Korriban to seek help in healing him...

Slayer of Light by FruHallbera

Rating: T

Kylo returns from his mission injured and in need of care and comfort.

fucking hell this dude's a beast by technorat

Rating: T

Hux hates his obnoxious neighbor, the one that breaks things, is noisy at unreasonable hours, and dares to look as good as he does.

Far Beyond the Ice and Snow by Kittens

Rating: T

Kylo Ren, a falcon shapeshifter, has lived alone in the far north for years, the remote location of his territory hindering any ability to have friends. Kylo doesn't care. Or at least, he doesn't until he has a chance meeting with another falcon shapeshifter who definitely doesn't belong out on the tundra.

Defender of a Cat by rudbeckia

Rating: T

How Kylo became Millicent’s saviour.

Stranger of My Imagination by shinysylver

Rating: M

“The New Republic High Court has outlawed capital punishment. You have been deemed guilty of the crime of genocide. There is no rehabilitation for you. By their order you have been sentenced to sleep for the rest of your natural life.”

Deemed too dangerous for prison, Kylo and Hux are stripped of their memories and sentenced to live out the rest of their lives in a specially constructed dream world. But can any prison truly hold them?

Skies burning with Thunder by DeviantDarkBelle

Rating: M

Kylo takes Hux on a much needed and deserved holiday off ship.

Hux may be afraid of a thing or two - Kylo protects him.

Very soft murder husbands, though they're not married - at least not yet.

Fools in Your Garden by itsallaboutflowermetaphors

Rating: G

Ben and Armitage are sitting on the porch of Ben’s tree house, their feet dangling off the edge, as far away from all the people as possible. Leia doesn’t allow Ben to disappear into the house during family garden parties. It’s not proper.

Summertime Sadness by stardustmillenium

Rating: T

Summertime. Sunshine, friendship, laughter, and good times. That's what expect, right? Wrong.

This summer is not what Ren expected. Heartbreak and loss have taken over.

Art (SFW):

Some Kylux Titleception Work by Movielover52

Beasts in the Castle, Don’t Ever Wanna Grow Up, and Off to the Hunt by katherine1753

So Long and Goodnight moodboard by nerdherderette

Up All Night moodboard by mysticmilkshakesublime

Stranger of my Imagination moodboard by huxandthehound (fic by shinysylver)

The Season is Calling moodboard by nerdherderette

Far Beyond the Ice and Snow by threewinterssnow

NSFW work under the cut.

Fics (NSFW)

Titty Titty Bang Bang (Bang Bang Bang!) by Kylo_Rens_Slashed_Face (Tauntaun_Logistics)

Rating: E

Kylo bangs Hux during their attack on Crait. A whole new context for "More! More! More!"

A Bootblack Mummy Wants Oral by Kylo_Rens_Slashed_Face (Tauntaun_Logistics)

Rating: E

Hux likes leather, really likes leather. He gets a bit - overzealous - while polishing Kylo's boots, so Kylo is forced to punish him in the "worst" way possible: by binding him up mummy-style and giving him head.

A Midsummer’s Night Cream by thewightknight

Rating: E

Kylo's text was unexpected but not unwelcome. Hux just hadn't gotten the memo that their relationship was progressing in such a fashion. Except wait ....

Forced Perspective by Gamebird

Rating: E

Kylo Ren and Hux are stranded on a jungle world after negotiations go bad. Kylo is badly wounded, his life resting in Hux's treacherous hands. His take on the reasons for his survival are very different from Hux's.

Cops and Robbers by BoStarsky

Rating: M

Ben likes his job, is proud of it, proud of carrying an FBI badge in his pocket and the cases he’s had a hand in solving. He’s good at his job. Or, he was until a string of robberies spanning the US landed in his lap, everything from elaborate jewelry heists to residential burglaries all tied back to one person. One person so elusive and infuriatingly untraceable that Ben might just be stuck on this case until one of them dies.

Kicking Eternity by cowboykylux

Rating: E

It was hot, Armitage Hux thought with a sigh as she sat in the front pew of her father’s church. Shifting in her seat, her leather boots scraped against the red dust of the earth that had been tracked in from the road just outside the church. It made a sound like sand in the bottom of a gold pan.

Armitage hated the sound. She did it again.

Footprints Among the Graves by LostSpaceCadetLeon

Rating: Not Rated

Hux is a serial killer who has taken Kylo under his wing. At one point Kyle had been one of Huxs targets but Hux decided to keep him after one fun night in a Graveyard that has now been dubbed their 'fun spot' to go. Much to Kylos surprise Hux gives up his reign of power just a bit to really enjoy his lover.

Take the Day by FruHallbera

Rating: E

As first meetings go, this is not the most romantic or the cutest of the bunch but it certainly is memorable.

Sprinkled or Glazed by LostSpaceCadetLeon

Rating: M

Astromorphology by DeviantDarkBelle

Rating: E

Armitage Hux and Ben Solo are paired together for a very important project in University.

Old money vs. new money, rich boys who run different circles.

Awakening in my Nightmares by Heresetrash

Rating: E

Hux and Kylo swap bodies and are forced to commit to a temporary truce in order to figure out a solution. What starts out as a nightmare might turn out a lot more pleasant in the end.

by the sea, by the sea by GremlinGirl

Rating: E

Hux's ship sinks, leaving him in the open water. When he does wash up on an island in the middle of nowhere, he finds the residents odd. Ben especially, he finds, acts peculiar and speaks of things that are impossible. However, he is caught in his sway, and Hux has to play along to escape the island and get back to his ordinary life.

The Season is Calling by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)

Rating: E

When Armitage Hux woke up this morning, he never imagined that his eighteenth birthday would be spent like this: running through the woods with his clothes torn, slick between his legs, gun long-forgotten.

Ruination with Wings by imperialhuxness

Rating: E

Hux didn't intend to survive the capture of the Finalizer. His newly dethroned ex has other plans. ... “So you brought me along to face capture, trial, and eventual execution rather than letting me die honorably of my wounds,” Hux finishes for him. He affects frigidity, but his breath hitches anyway. Hux is the Order--he shouldn’t have outlived it. It would be like cutting a man in half and expecting him to grow a new head and shoulders.

Billionaire Pterodactyl Wants Oral by darktensh17

Rating: E

If anyone had told Armitage Hux that he would be on his knees before a billionaire slowly undoing his pants to give the man, a Mr. Kylo Ren, the best blowjob of his life (Hux wasn’t modest about his skills), for a large sum of cash. . . well Hux would have been very proud of himself honestly.

Now, if anyone had told him that billionaire also happed to be a large green pterodactyl, then he may have given some pause

The devil and the deep blue sea by DeviantDarkBelle

Rating: E

When millionaire Ben Organa-Solo marries, he inherits a large plot of land that belonged to his grandfather, Anakin Skywalker. Family and friends are overjoyed but others may not be impressed with his choice, Rey.

There is something about the house, something about the land, something about the riverfront property.

a beautiful behind by DeviantDarkBelle

Rating: E

Kylo comes back from a mission planet side and finds Hux in the shower.

Kylo can't resist Hux's ass...

Dragons and Kittens by dreamyafterdark

Rating: M

Hux is driven to another routine assignment by Ren. But events take a turn for the very strange and eye-opening...

stargazer by TheSpaceCoyote

Rating: E

Now that Armitage Hux is ruling as emperor over the entire galaxy, he has time to breathe, sit back, and look at the stars.

Not Now, Boner by dreamyafterdark

Rating: E

Alternative Throne Room scene. Kylo comes to, but finds certain problems standing in his way when he tries to confront Hux.

So Long And Goodnight by AshGunnywolf

Rating: E

When Hux agreed to play for the Killing Tour, he knew he would be sharing a tour bus with another band called the Knights of Ren. He had no idea that the lead singer, Kylo Ren, is one of the most aggravating people he'd ever meet. He also had no idea that he shares a very unusual sort of experience with Kylo or that he has more in common with Kylo than he'd like to admit.

Up All Night by MyNickname_is_mysticmilkshake

Rating: E

Hux agrees to share an apartment with two friends Kylo and Poe. He regrets it, then he suffers. His roommates are sloppy, noisy and one of them doesn’t wear a shirt and has a body of a Greek god. Everything becomes much worse when three college kids arrive at their apartment. More noise, snide comments, and all Hux wants is a quiet place to rest. And he will get it. A small cabin near a lake. Far from the noisy city and all his problems, except one — the cabin belongs to his hot roommate, and he is going there with him. It’s Hux’s personal hell.

So Long and Good Night by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)

Rating: E

AKA: The five times Hux said "no" and the one time he didn't.

Northern Fall by TechieHux

Rating: M

Ben has everything under control. Both of his secrets are safe, his grades are passable, and his mom isn't terrified of him anymore. It's a good life, but nothing quiets the ache in his bones.

Something is wrong. Something is missing.

And the key may just be his new neighbor.

#kylux #titleception 2019 #fic #art

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smolfangirl · 6 years

Text

A little fresa wedding I

Kudos and Thanks are in line, because this fic isn’t only mine :D It belongs just as much to the wonderful @miris-xo WHO CELEBRATES HER BIRTHDAY TODAY YAAAAAY and who is like 99% of the reason this wedding fic exists and keeps motivating me with her moodboards and ideas and comments ♥ Also please please develop this love for my actual WIP it feels very abandoned

This will be a little series because, well, I am incapable apparently of writing short scenes and no one needs a +10k post. I truly hope you’ll enjoy it!

And as always: @ac-ars and @sky-girls used the name Rory first. I used my own brain to end up with this name (also because of my roommate who is obsessed with Gilmore Girls and keeps trying to talk me into watching it), which is why I didn’t give them any credit.

Word count: 3k

Pt. I – Getting there

The realization that she will marry Matteo hits Luna quite late.

It doesn’t come when they’re at home, packing their bags and double-checking every list until they both fall into bed exhausted. It’s not during their flight, where little Aurora cries and cries before she finally calms down after an hour of screaming. It’s not even when she hands her daughter over to her parents for the night and steps into her hotel room, where Nina already unpacks their suitcases.

No, the moment her wedding begins to feel real to Luna is when they arrive at the venue to see how the preparations are coming along.

Next to her, Nina gasps at the sight, not to Luna’s surprise. She remembers making the same surprised noise when she first saw the mansion about a year ago. Rosecliff is, without a single doubt, stunning. Its white bricks paint a bright contrast to the surrounding trees, and the air carries the perfume of the flower gardens, mixed with the scent of the ocean. Just one glance at the building, and Luna feels like a young princess about to experience her first ball night.

Only that this won’t be a ball night, but her wedding.

(If she keeps repeating it, will it stop feeling like a daydream?)

“How did you hear about this place again?” Gastón asks Matteo, and while her fiancé answers, Luna’s thoughts wander back to the stress of picking a venue. No matter where they searched, not a single place in Argentina fit their criteria. Ideas were traded back and forth, as quickly dismissed as they came, heads were shaken, tears were shed. More than once, when the task of planning their big day overwhelmed her, Luna considered to just grab Matteo’s hand and marry him on the spot, in jeans and t-shirt, without friends and family.

In the end, it was his cousin who made sure they’d get a gorgeous venue instead, far away from the eyes of the paparazzi and big enough to include all their loved ones.

Flor had mentioned Newport when she stopped by for a couple of days, admiring the ocean and the old, yet carefully restored buildings all around the island. She went on and on about the romantic potential and lamented that not a single picture managed to capture its true beauty.

That’s when Luna first caught the glimmer in Matteo’s eyes.

Still, they hesitated to fly over, despite Flor’s excitement and the promising results of a quick internet research. With less than three months left till her due date, Matteo and her wondered if such a long flight carried too many risks (yet alone the possibility of being spotted by the media or an over-sharing fan), but travelling here after she gave birth meant postponing the wedding for easily another year.

And they felt they had waited long enough. So, when the doctor gave them the green light, they booked the flights.

Luna knew it was the right decision the moment they entered the path towards the mansion. The rose gardens, the romantic fountain at the backside, the view on the ocean. Every little spot offered a lovely invitation for photographs, every detail the tour guide mentioned seemed more perfect for a wedding.

It wasn’t the gardens or the luxurious furniture or the huge ballroom that took Luna’s breath away ultimately, though.

No, Luna fell for this venue when she laid eyes on the breathtaking, heart-shaped staircase.

Made from white marble, it contrasts the black railing and burgundy carpet perfectly. Her eyes must’ve lit up, and that was when Matteo let them fall behind the group of tourists and asked her if she wanted to marry him here.

Her answer came fired like a shotgun.

///

Today, less than 24 hours before the ceremony, the air buzzes of excitement. Nina and Miranda – their wedding planner and fairy godmother, probably – hurry off like little bees, crossing lists and answering phone calls, while Gastón keeps an eye on the workers.

But with the explicit order to relax and be happy, Luna and Matteo decide to leave them be and stroll to the back of the house. Sunlight kisses her skin as she looks around, while Matteo by her side hums contently.

“It’s so beautiful,” Luna sighs, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. Little Aurora on her hips giggles, before she stretches her arm towards the ocean, waving it up and down rapidly. “Dada!”

Matteo caresses the cheek of his daughter, then presses soft kisses on Luna’s neck and lets his mouth wander up to her ear. “I think she wants to see the ocean,” he whispers.

“Well, she’s not the only one.”

Although the railing along the cliff isn’t far away, 70 meters at most, getting there takes forever. Matteo insists on showering her in kisses, occasionally giving Rory one or two if she manages to hold still long enough. It doesn’t help that each smile and soft giggle out of Luna’s mouth encourages him more, until he eventually starts to whirl her, around and around, faster with every turn. His little fresa laughs and laughs and laughs – and begins to cry.

“Oh no, Rory, sweetie, everything’s okay,” Luna mumbles to her daughter as she presses her against her chest.

“Sorry, little princess, I’m sorry, really, daddy didn’t want to spin you so much. He just got a little too excited over marrying your mommy.”

“Shh, we’re here, darling.” Her hand wanders up and down her small back, a gesture their little girl usually loves, yet another minute of cooing and cuddling her passes before her cries turn into occasional hiccups.

Turning to her soon-to-be-husband, Luna raises an eyebrow. “No more spinning with her in my arms, okay?”

“Of course not.”

And with one last kiss on her temple, everything is good again.

///

When Aurora gawks at the waves crashing against the beach and Matteo’s arms wrap around Luna’s waist from behind, it sinks in that only one night separates her from her wedding day. One more sleep, and she will be Luna Balsano Valente.

One more sleep, and her eternity with Matteo starts officially and for everyone to be seen.

One more sleep, and she will walk on this grass in her wedding dress.

She will give her body and soul to Matteo, will promise to love him now and for the rest of time in front of their families and friends.

She will be his, and he will be hers.

Stealing a glance at him, Luna discovers this wide grin on his face that makes him look so young and carefree. Just the thought of being married to him by this time tomorrow fills her with an intoxicating cocktail of excitement and happiness.

Luna can’t wait.

///

Pt. II – The night before

The heavy curtains of the suite block every little ray of moonlight from sneaking into the room. Quietness surrounds the hotel, offer her peace and tranquility. The bed is so comfortable she considers taking it home with her. Overall, perfect conditions to get the rest she needs for tomorrow.

And yet, Luna can’t sleep.

Her eyes won’t stay closed, her mind won’t calm down. She’s awake, awake, awake and with every minute she thinks more about the wedding. Her wedding.

Maybe she could find sleep if Matteo was here. Over the years, he perfectioned the art of relaxing her. He’d listen to her worries, and her expectations for this day they’ve both been waiting for so long. He’d hold her in his arms, his fingers brushing over her skin while he comforts her. He’d guard her as she slowly drifts into unconsciousness.

He’d be here, but he’s not, because everyone insisted on following this old, stupid tradition.

It’s not even the first time she lays in her bed without him, and it certainly won’t be the last one. And it’s just one night anyway, this shouldn’t be such a big deal.

Still, Luna misses him. Him and little Aurora who’s with her parents, probably sleeping like an angel.

Next to her, Nina tosses and turns, shifts on the mattress until she settles into a new position. Then, her breathing returns to the same calm rhythm that fills the air for half an hour now. In, and out, in, and out...

Luna gives up.

///

Matteo’s room which he shares with his best man lays on the opposite side of the floor. Only Pedro’s and Delfi’s room separates her from her fiancé. Light slips through to the hallway from their room, though, accompanied by familiar laughter - Gastón seems to catch up with the Rollerband and their latest tour rather than to fulfill his responsibility of watching the groom.

Which definitely plays into Luna’s cards.

With featherlight steps, she hushes to Matteo’s door, knocks carefully. Seconds later, footsteps come closer and he opens, hair messy and mouth half open from a yawn. Upon seeing her, his eyes widen but he recovers quickly enough to pull her into the room and lock the door behind him.

“Luna, hi, is everything okay?” A little wrinkle appears on his forehead, while his gaze glides over hers, inspecting her.

She hugs him and inhales the scent of his skin. “I can’t sleep,” she mumbles.

“Me neither,” he admits.

///

They end up hushing outside.

The lawn under her naked feet feels soft as they sneak out on the spacious estate. Hand in hand, they stroll closer to the cliff, following the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. When they’re out of view from their friends’ rooms, they let themselves fall into the grass, giggling like rebellious teenagers on a school night.

Not a single person noticed them on their way out, and it gives Luna this exciting kick of adrenaline, knowing they’re not supposed to be together tonight. The same thoughts seem to pass Matteo’s mind – his heart beats fast in his ribcage when she rests her head on his chest.

“Hopefully they won’t notice we’re gone,” she says, sighing in content at the kiss he presses on her hair.

“I doubt it. And if Gastón catches me, he’ll just make a pun and we’re good.”

“Hm… let me try. Matteo, launched a rocket to the moon again? Soon they’ll build you a statue at NASA,” Luna snickers in her best (or worst) Gastón-impression.

Matteo laughs and shakes his head. “Jeez, that was terrible.”

Still smirking, Luna snuggles closer to him, letting her eyes wander over the clear night sky above her. The stars twinkle brighter than she ever saw them in Buenos Aires, and she feels calmer and better than during a single second in that fancy hotel room.

For a while, they stay there in silent harmony, enjoying the view and the peace of this moment.

“Do you think everything will go as planned tomorrow?” she whispers into the darkness. It feels like a little eternity passed, perhaps an hour, perhaps only a few minutes.

“Well, we’re paying Miranda a shit ton of money, so everything better work out,” Matteo snickers before his tone turns more serious. “But you know what, little moon?”

She tilts her head, so their eyes meet in the night, only for him to bop her nose gently. “It’ll be perfect either way, because you’re with me.”

The night keeps her rosy cheeks a secret. “You know you can be so corny, chico fresa.”

“Maybe. But it’s true.”

“I love you, you sappy fresa.” A kiss on his cheeks. One more at his palm stroking her face. “I love you too.”

///

Letting her go in the hallway is harder than it should be. Matteo feels like a stubborn kid refusing to let go of his favorite teddy bear for more than a second, which is stupid. She’ll be by his side for the whole day tomorrow, and after that for the rest of their lives.

But this is the last time he sees her before the ceremony. Before he will marry her, and she will be his wife.

His gaze glides over her, takes her in, so he can remember this moment for all of eternity. Her brown curls fall open over her shoulder, messy from his hands – the same hands he has to keep to himself now, so they don’t open the loose tie of her robe. Admittedly, the white fabric hugs her body, flattering her curves, but it also hides her beautiful, beautiful night gown.

And her smile. By the stars, her smile.

Looking at the curve of her mouth, he feels like a shooting star in the night sky, bright and hot and burning only for her. When he’s a shooting star though, Luna is the sun in his universe, and not even the tired yawn slipping out manages to diminish the light she radiates.

“I love you,” Matteo whispers. Simple and soft, while it means so much more. It’s a goodnight, a promise for tomorrow, and for every breath he will take on this earth after that.

“I love you too,” she echoes. Her arms wrap around his waist when he pulls her in for a hug, pressing a light peck on her forehead. He loves her, he loves her so, so much. If every clock on the world froze, he’d be completely fine with staying in this moment.

However, Luna pulls away soon. “I should go to sleep.”

“Yeah.” And so Matteo watches her sneaking into the suite, where Nina’s relaxed breaths fill the air.

///

He finds his own hotel room as dark as the night. Darker even, because the curtains block any faded light the moon or the stars have to offer. After walking through the lit hallway, the contrast of the furniture seems to barely exist, and his vision needs a while to adapt to the shadows once again.

Matteo blinks. Once, twice.

He recognizes Gastón lying on the bed. He’s not moving, his breathing steady and calm. Since he’s not the kind of person to fall asleep within seconds, he must’ve gone to bed a while ago – which in turn leaves Matteo wondering why his best man decided not to search for him in the hour or two he easily was gone.

Unless they didn’t walk far enough and Gastón spotted them.

His heartbeat picks up its pace at the idea, and it takes him a few seconds to relax. Gastón isn’t subtle when it comes to Luna and him, never was, probably never will be. If he indeed saw them, he’d be up and down in the room, throwing puns around like confetti till the morning light, incapable of letting such an opportunity to roast his best friend go.

So, he didn’t possibly discover them, he’s safe asleep, and Matteo worried over a ghost in his mind.

Still, he tip-toes to his side of the bed. Every move he makes is followed by a glance in Gastón’s direction. When Matteo slips under the covers, he has no idea how hard his best friend desperately tries to repress a giggle.

///

“God, you two are so cute it’s seriously disgusting.”

Matteo isn’t even fully awake yet when Gastón’s voice rips the last pictures of his dreams apart. A groan hanging on his lips, he slowly opens his eyes.

Gastón stands by the door, staring at his left hand and shaking his head. The clock on the bedside table tells Matteo he could still nap for half an hour; unfortunately, however, his best friend has another plan.

“Here, Sleeping Beauty, this is for you.”

A card hits him on the chest before any words reach the tip of his tongue. It’s just big enough to fit completely into his palm, and he opens it with a frown on his face.

Good morning, chico fresa ♥

Before I will see you at the ceremony, I just wanted to say that I hope you slept well (or got at least a few hours of sleep…) and remind you that I love you the most in the world! I can’t wait for the rest of our lives to begin.

Always and forever, your chica delivery

PS: Please give Rory kisses from me, okay?

For a moment, he stares at this little note, not sure how he gets to deserve someone like Luna, or how he’ll get through those hours until she’s back by his side. “Where’d you find this?” he then turns to his best friend.

“It laid on the ground, she must’ve slipped it under the door. And, just so we’re clear, Nina and I weren’t half as bad as this on our wedding day. Your chica delivery will bring me some serious diabetes this weekend if she keeps that up.”

“You’re only jealous,” Matteo shoots back, pretending to miss the huge grin tugging on his best friend’s mouth.

Chuckling, he gets out of bed to throw a glance outside. A soft breeze swirls through the room when he opens the window, and the clear sky announces a perfect day to get married.

His wedding day.

Maybe this is the moment he should turn into a nervous mess, but weirdly enough, Matteo feels at peace. Years passed since he decided she was the person he intended to wait down the aisle for, and almost two years passed since she said she wanted to be his wife. What should make him impatient or insecure, fills him with strength. Their love passed every test time threw at them, they worked through every obstacle, every fight, and he knows they will continue to grow, to forgive and learn.

And that today will be perfect no matter what happens, because they’ll be together.

“So, how did your last night as a free man feel?”

Confused, Matteo breaks away from the view on the ocean. Gastón leans against the door as he barely contains a grin, raising his eyebrow in a dare.

Much to his dismay, he can imagine where this is going.

“Well,” he hesitantly begins, “I couldn’t fall asleep, so I took a walk around the property. To help with that, you know? It… it was nice. Looked at the moon a little bit.”

“I see,” Gastón nods. “As long as you didn’t set foot on it.” A classic Gastón pun, and Matteo wouldn’t pay it no second thought if his best friend didn’t wiggle his eyebrows so passionately they’re almost dancing on his forehead. But he does, while grinning like a fool, so he figures Gastón wasn’t half as asleep last night as he pretended to be.

And he’s not even sorry about it.

#soy luna #lutteo #my sl fanfiction #a little fresa story #m&m #yes the wedding planner is named after miri and she deserves this honor #this wedding au is both a pain in my ass and the light of my days

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