#he’d make harry ride along with him and harry would fear for his life

[catgirljaneway]

[amazingmaeve]

red

loving him was red

summary:

george always wanted to open a joke shop with his brother. when they decide to get back at umbridge and leave school to pursue his dream he also leaves behind his girlfriend.

warnings - angst, a bit of fluff

word count - 2648

a/n - a writing challenge that @chokemepansy is doing! also got inspired by Taylor Swifts red! angst prompt 42 from her prompt list!

h.p masterlist // george weasley

George to Y/N was one of the most perfect people in her life. When she met him it changed her life for the best. He came in her life when she needed something good, when her whole life was horrible he was the only light in her life. But they also had a lot of arguments that had one or the other storming out saying hurtful things.

But they always found their way back to each other.

No matter what one or the other would apologize for the words they said and the other would smile and pull them in for a kiss. No matter what that’s how it always ended. It wasn’t the healthiest of relationships but when George was there for her it always made Y/N’s feel better and feel loved.

Even though she hated the fights she loved the time she spent with him. The times where they would just cuddle while Y/N read a book. George would just play with her hair and sometimes would just watch as her eyes glazed across the book with interest. Sometimes would bite her lip if she’s confused by something. Other times she helped him with his studies and it would help some of the times.

George and Y/N would also just sneak around the Hogwarts castle and make out in corners whilst skipping some of her classes. She normally didn’t do this but George convinced her to skip some of the classes. Luckily it usually didn’t hurt her grades since she studied a lot.

Y/N was also convinced to help Fred and George with their pranks but if the prank seemed too harsh she wouldn’t do that. Fred and Y/N were friends but not the closest friends in the world. They often only talked when George was around since nothing else tied them to each other. She didn’t hate him and he didn’t hate her.

They would also go to the Three Broomsticks for dates and would just sit and talk about each other’s day. Y/N would just get lost in George’s eyes and the way that they sparkled whenever he mentioned the pranks he and Fred did. It warmed her heart to see him so happy about something.

Towards the end of their relationship the arguments have weirdly started to die down and George and Y/N started talking through their problems.

Maybe this was because of Umbridge coming to Hogwarts that year the relationship has matured more and they started to act like adults coming into their 7th year. Though one big thing was hanging over their head.

The future.

Y/N wanted to be a curse breaker and George wanted to run a joke shop with Fred and Y/N was okay with that and would support him through everything. But the thing was that Voldemort was on the rise and his supporters were coming back. It scared a lot of people especially Y/N since she was muggle born and her family were muggles and could be hurt by this. She knew if she wanted to be a curse breaker she would have to be more brave.

She would often talk to George about this instead of keeping this stuff in. He would comfort her by letting her bury her head in his chest as he rested his chin on her head. He caressed her hair as she wrapped her arms around his waist and felt herself start to calm down a bit.

George was starting to be a comfort hotline for her.

Y/N also noticed that George has become more secretive throughout the year and she just cut it down to him and Fred planning and making pranks. She didn’t know it was a secret army that was created when Umbridge cut back on the defense against the dark arts.

It hurt her that George didn’t tell her about it or that she wasn’t even invited to become a part of this army. She wanted to be able to help. She felt useless and it sank to the bottom of her stomach that she wasn’t even trusted by her own boyfriend.

Before she could even argue with him, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to his room.

“George what the hell was that,” Y/N snapped crossing her arms across her chest. She was just talking to Luna and Neville in the common room when he dragged her to his room.

“I needed to talk to you,” George rushed out rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Dumbledore's army,” Y/N angrily questioned ignoring what he had said. George huffed, rolling his eyes, feeling frustrated.

“Y/N let me-,” George was about to talk but was interrupted by Y/N.

“No seriously was I not trusted by you or was it for you to get away from me?” Y/N asked, clenching her jaw as her fist curled at her side from the anger coursing through her veins.

“I think we should break up,” George blurted out making Y/N’s eyes widened. She didn’t want to break up with him over this. Yes she was angry at the moment but it didn’t mean she wanted to lose him.

“What-what,” Y/N stuttered her fist un curling from the shocking news she had just got.

“Me and Fred are going to be starting a joke shop next year,” George explained, not meeting her eyes.

“That’s it George I said I’d support you through that,” Y/N huffed and ran her fingers through her hair.

“I just don’t see you in my future,” George says quietly, his eyes traveling to his feet, not wanting to see her reaction to this. He promised himself he’d do this for her, so that she wouldn’t get hurt.

“I see,” Y/N whispers then biting her lip trying to not let the tears fall from her eyes. But her shoulders slumped when she heard the words tumble from his mouth. Sadness raked through her body and she could feel her feet start to wobble and her eyes start to glisten. “Well goodbye George,” She turned away and left the room not wanting to see his reaction to this.

Y/N decided to focus on her studies since she would be taking most of them tomorrow and needed to pass them to be a curse breaker. She needed to stop thinking about George so she could have at least a good career. She didn’t get much sleep that night.

But the next day as she finished her last N.E.W.T.S Y/N watched as Umbridge walked out of the room since she heard some noises outside of the classroom. It was a shock to everyone as George and Fred came riding in on their broomsticks with fireworks in their hands.

She didn’t get up from her seat like everyone else. She just sat down playing with her hands as the twins left the classroom creating a W in the sky.

After the school year was over Y/N was happy that she didn’t have to go back to the place that gave her so many memories with George. But when she applied to be a curse breaker she was luckily accepted but that meant she had to work for Bill Weasley.

Y/N met him a few times when she stayed over at the Weasleys house for Christmas. Bill of course recognized her and didn’t ask anything about her or George since he heard they broke up. She was thankful for that and found it easy to get along with the eldest Weasley. He was a good person to talk to.

For that whole year Y/N got used to the job only going on a few missions since she was the newbie. But things got weird when Voldemort killed Dumbledore by Snape.

She was invited to Bill and Fleurs wedding and she didn’t know if she should accept it or not since Y/N knew George would be there and it would be so awkward. But she did accept it eventually since Bill was such a good friend to her and she also heard about him getting attacked and wanted to make sure he was okay.

She didn’t take anyone as a date, she’s tried to date after school but it never worked out they always ended things before they got to serious.

Y/N managed to avoid George and even Fred that night but before it could end death eaters came to the wedding and attacked. She didn’t know what the hell was going on but she does know that Harry, Hermione, and Ron were going to go hunt for the Horcruxes.

She left Weasley's burrow with worry in the pit of her stomach. Fear filled her bones, fear for the trio and the Weasley’s. Y/N was even worried about her parents, who weren’t a part of the wizarding world which was worse since they couldn’t protect themselves. She went home that night, nervousness filling her blood as she entered her parents house.

Ever since she graduated from Hogwarts Y/N lives with her parents until she can get enough money to buy a place for herself.

Luckily her parents were okay and she went to sleep a little bit better. But still she worried for the Weasley’s and anyone who crossed Voldemort and his little posse. She just hoped everyone would be fine and wouldn’t end up dead.

The following year she kept in contact with Bill, even though she was staying with her parents to protect them.

Once Y/N heard about the battle she immediately signed up for it. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt. She wanted to help protect the people at the school so they could see the daylight the next morning. She didn’t care if she ran into George since this was a life or death situation.

The battle was a hard one. A lot of people died. Remus and Tonks being the ones closest to her. For a moment there Y/N and everyone around her even thought that Harry was dead and Voldemort as victorious. But luckily Harry wasn’t.

They won. But what did it come with. Casualties, families who wouldn’t see their children ever again. Even though they did win, Y/N felt like she failed them, she failed there families. After the war she even had nightmares about her friends and family dying and her not being able to save them.

She always woke up in a sweat.

The nights where Y/N couldn’t sleep she thought about George. What he was doing? Was he fine? Did he ever think about her? She usually shook those thoughts out of her head but ever since she broke up with him it felt like emptiness filled her life. But she masked that with a fake smile and burying herself in work and she was still doing this.

Y/N’s parents encouraged her to get her own place but reassured her that they weren’t trying to kick her out. She knew that but it felt like she was a burden on them so she just decided to move out and found a cottage in the forest. It wasn’t as scary as the forbidden forest since there were no monsters in this one.

The silence welcomed her with a warm hug. Y/N didn’t hate it; she liked being alone at the moment. She often spent her time watching shows late at night then waking up early to go to work with bags under her eyes.

One day Y/N went to go and get some ice cream in Diagon alley she saw a flash of red hair in the crowd and she immediately knew who it was.

George.

Y/N knew it could’ve been Fred but she knew George too well to know that was him. So she did what most people would’ve done. Ran behind an alley so he didn’t see her.

Before she could fully get behind the building he caught her eye and yelled out for her.

“Y/N is that you,” George asks looking between the buildings with a smile gracing his lips. She stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath before turning around with a fake smile appearing on her face.

“George it’s so nice to see you,” Y/N says while walking up to stand in front of him.

Before she could say anything else he wrapped his arms around her waists and hugged her. He buried his face in her neck while Y/N placed her arms around his neck and took in his familiar scent she loved oh so much. She missed it. She didn’t want to miss him but Y/N couldn’t help it.

“How’ve you been,” George asks kindly, finally breaking free from the hug.

“Oh I’ve been great,” Y/N lied straight through her teeth as she stared up at him. There was an awkward silence before George spoke.

“I wanted to ask a question,” George wrings his hands in front of his stomach.

“You already did,” Y/N responds with a smirk, a real one this time. “I’m kidding, go ahead,” She says after seeing the look on his face.

“I wanted to know if you want to meet up later so we could catch up,” George asks nervously as stands there with his eyes at his feet.

“Uh,” Y/N started to say and she didn’t even know what she was going to answer him with but deciding it would be good to catch up with some old friends she answered, “Yes.”

“Really,” George says shocked, he thought she’d say no since the last time they talked he dumped her.

“Yes I need to get out more anyways,” Y/N gives him a half smile before getting a pen and grabbing his hand. “This is my address, pick me up at….” She says looking up at him wanting to know when he wanted to go out.

“9 darling,” George answered and looked at the writing on his hand after she let it go. Y/N felt butterflies enter her stomach when he called her that. It’s been so long she’s been called that by someone she cares about.

When Y/N got home she immediately regretted agreeing to go on this date with George. She knew that seeing him again would bring back some old feelings that were being harbored.

She decided that when George got to the cottage Y/N would talk to him about all of her feelings.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted when George showed up at her front door with some flowers. She took them with a smile. “Come in,” She opened the door wider letting him come in.

“Nice place,” George complimented.

“Thanks,” Y/N felt nervous again when she thought about what she wanted to talk to him about. “I need to talk to you,” She rushed out as she stood in front of him.

“Knew this was gonna come,” George muttered as his smile dropped. “Before you say anything can I say something,” He asked with a pleading look on his face, Y/N nodded. “I wanted to say that breaking up with you was one of the biggest mistakes of my life and ever since I did it I’ve never been the same,” George takes a break before saying. “I'd take our relationship back in a heartbeat love.”

“I can’t do that George,” Y/N whispered as her eyes shined with tears. George’s head dropped once he heard her. “I want to, I want to take you back so much but I can’t,” Her lip quivered as a tear rolled off her cheek.

“Then why don’t you,” George whispered hope filling his eyes.

“I’m just destined to have no love.”

[cherriesfineline]

Au Pair – Chapter I

It's finally here – I'm sorry this took so long, this past few weeks have been a mess but here it is, our first chapter for the Au Pair series; I kinda hate this, ngl- I always hate first chapters, a lot of introductory info and bla bla but yeah.

In the weird case you happen to enjoy this and want to be added into the taglist (starting next chapter) you can request it here.

Feedback, likes or reblogs are so, so appreciated! I'm very much new to the whole writing world so yeah it'd be really helpful to hear your thoughts about this <3

Love you all, have a wonderful week beauties!

Warnings: none specifically for this chapter – age gap.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist

Y/N was tired, to say the least.

And it wasn’t the tiredness she used to feel after a long work shift at her previous job -where her boss was an old, grumpy lady with horrible manners- or the exhaustion felt after spending hours crying due to a fight with her mother. No, this was different. It was a tiredness she couldn’t get rid of; a tiredness no lavender smelling bath or hours upon hours of sleep could amend.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment her brain shifted in such a drastic way. Y/N could easily recognize and admit her life had never been an exciting one; a memorable one. Ever since she was a little girl it all seemed to fly by; graduations, birthdays, friendships – nothing ever seemed to leave an impact and nothing ever seemed as exciting as everyone else put it to be. She knew she struggled with allowing herself to enjoy things, but this far her life had been pretty average.

Maybe it was the fact that she was 22 years old and never been in a real relationship what skyrocketed her fear of dying alone. Now, she knew it might seem exaggerated – 22 years wasn’t a long life at all, but the pungent emptiness she’d been feeling felt like her inevitable destiny – like that’s how life was supposed to be for her.

England felt different, though. But in all honesty, her emotions hadn’t had switched into completely different ones like she’d expected to happen when she applied for this job as an Au Pair all the way back in February.

With a steaming hot cup of coffee between her cold hands, she sat down next to Coco (a very soft grey Scottish Fold) on the giant couch of her new home, scratching in between his tiny ears earning a low purr in response. Coco had become one of her closest friends so far, along with Anya, a three year old girl with cute blonde locks and a laugh so contagious it made the muscles on your cheeks ache after a long playdate.

Maybe moving away wasn’t the smartest choice. It actually might be one of the stupidest choices she had ever made, actually – moving all the way across the globe when she cried herself to sleep most nights due to her loneliness overcoming her (almost inexistent) self-awareness. Y/N liked to believe she had a wide understanding of her emotions, but it was a blatant lie.

At least she was distracted for most of the day – taking care of two kids and looking after a teenager wasn’t an easy task. It required a lot of mental presence; but by the time she was in bed at night, it all hit back again. She thought maybe this is how life is supposed to be for her, lonely – maybe it was not her brain playing her tricks but her brain making her see how her life truly was.

It’d been two weeks since the Lockehold family picked Y/N up from the airport, and on one side getting physically adjusted to this new life hadn't been as rough as she thought it’d be. She did have it easy, if she had to admit – a big room in a giant, beautiful home and a car to her disposal. Emotionally, on the other side, life was still the same.

She knew the moment she heard heels hitting the cold marble staircase Bella was on her way down with Ivy, the eldest of the three sisters, following close behind, complaining about a hangout she was apparently going to miss because they “are expecting a guest” as Bella announced, meaning neither of her parents could drive her. That’s how Y/N found herself sitting in her (borrowed) blue Jeep Renegade driving Ivy to her friend Lily’s house – who lived in the same rich, over-the-top neighborhood as her guest family, which meant the ride to and back was no longer than twenty minutes. During those minutes together, though, Y/N could physically feel the irritation running through Ivy’s blood because first, she still wasn’t too fond of Y/N because she is 16 and doesn’t need a babysitter -her words, not Y/N’s- and second, Y/N is still not accustomed to driving on the other side of the road.

Technically, Y/N had the weekends off. Living with the same people who employed her gladly didn’t mean working 24/7, but she hoped she could earn a couple of points in her favor if she took her free time to drive her around.

After a short conversation between the two (where Ivy refused to save Y/N’s number in case an emergency came up because she could always call her dad), Y/N dropped her off and drove back to the Lockehold’s. What caught her off guard, was the sight of someone in the driveway at the house next door getting suitcases out of the trunk of a black cab – there hadn’t been any movement in the old Victorian mansion since she’d moved in next door. A man, definitely very tall, dressed in a dark suit is all Y/N could decipher since it was already dark outside and she had to strictly concentrate on not switching to the opposite side of the road out of habit.

Alex was coming down the stairs when Y/N locked the front door – Bella’s husband was a very handsome man for his age, probably anyone could admit it. He was kind of scary sometimes, but was a true sweetheart on the inside; he’s in his mid-40’s and it was clear as day his family meant everything to him, he even treated Y/N like his own daughter, always making sure she’s comfortable and inviting her to most family hangouts – even though Y/N declined pretty often to allow them to have quality time as a family (and because being too socially involved drained her, but they needn’t have to know that)

“You wanna join us for dinner? We have a guest tonight. A family friend.”

“Oh, no, I'm good, you guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll say hello, though.” Y/N replied with a smile; and as before mentioned, even though she had the weekends to herself, they still loved to insist on her joining them for fancy dinners and whatnot. The Lockehold’s loved being hostesses, loved having people around (from what Y/N learned this past two weeks) but she really wanted -and needed- some time for herself after being with them the entire week, and even though she loved hanging out with them, she just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You sure? Bella made homemade pasta, from scratch. Her specialty.” Mouthwatering, Y/N thought. Bella was such an amazing cook, and even though she worked hours upon hours every day, she still came to her husband and kids in time to make dinner every night, not missing a single day.

“Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll pass, I’m just really tired.” And before anyone could make another comment, the loud bell ringing through the main floor of the house startled Y/N as it’s louder than ordinary – and sounded kind of old and creepy, in her opinion. By the time the constant thud in her chest lowered to a normal speed, she could recognize Bella’s voice in the foyer, meaning she was the one who received their guest, with a deep voice following after saying 'thank you for having me'.

"He's here!" Alex clasped his hands together, a wide smile appearing in his face. Y/N followed him into the living room where Bella was already chatting animatedly with a man; tall and with broad shoulders (but not excessively; just the right amount) his figure was leaning slightly forward as he listened to Bella rambling about all the 'good things he had missed while he was away'. His hands were clasped on his back and when he lifted his head, he made direct eye contact with Y/N without even having to search for her eyes. His brown curls were perfectly placed on top of his head looking extremely soft, and when he ran his hand through it Y/N couldn’t help but swallow harshly. He undoubtedly looked like someone who belonged in Hollywood next to a young Leo DiCaprio and he was definitely older than Y/N – probably already in his 30's, she guessed, but ageing like the finest wine. He had the softest looking wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – those eyes, forest green; reminded Y/N of what used to be home for her. His intense gaze held a lot of emotion, a lot of thought, unlike his face, that appeared stiff and cold, with a slight crease between his brows. His pink, heart-shaped lips were pressed in a line, a cute mole adorning one side of his chin.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, we've missed you." Alex's excitement forced him to drift his gaze away from Y/N, leaving her like a heated teenager salivating for him. Y/N honestly thought he might had left her speechless and most likely with increasing probabilities to make a fool out of herself if someone needed her to talk, as she was certain she wouldn't be able to formulate any coherent sentences.

Harry. It totally suited him, Y/N repeated his name a couple of times inside her head to check on its pronunciation. Alex reached him and pulled him in a big hug, patting each other's back, and Harry's lips broke into a huge smile making a line of pearly white teeth appear. And dimples. God, he had dimples.

This is how I die, Y/N thought.

"So good to see you, Alex." If sex was a sound, his voice would definitely be it.

"Your skin is glowing, Harry. Italy always does you wonders." Bella gushed. And she was right – his skin had this beautiful golden undertone, but it looked natural and radiant, almost like the sun itself kissed and caressed his skin with the softest touches. Alex snapped Y/N into reality when he turned to face her and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to them, starting a long introduction no one was paying much attention to, explaining how he’d missed her arrival, like he even cared, and how she was the Au Pair they’d all been talking about ever since February. It wasn’t until Alex mentioned something about Y/N and Harry probably seeing each other a lot she was suddenly interested in what was actually going on.

“He owns the school the girl’s attend.” Alex directed towards her. Now, Y/N assumed the moment she laid eyes on him he was probably rich – who wears a suit to a Sunday dinner with friends? Rich people are weird, that’s something we can all agree on; but owning a school which’s monthly fees per kid were worth three of her salaries? That was quite unexpected.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Y/N offered him her hand, trying to sound as casual as possible, even if her skin felt like it was burning under his intense gaze and her eyes were definitely betraying her.

"The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N." He shook her hand. His strong hold sent shivers down her spine; the cold rings making a big contrast against the heat his hand radiated and she couldn't help but fantasize about how his touch would feel in some other places.

The sudden embarrassment feeling hot against her cheeks made her turn around impossibly faster, feeling guilty at the dirty thoughts consuming her brain while around her bosses – and in front of him. Making a beeline straight to her room, announcing she was calling it a night, she sent Harry a quick -but quite charming- smile, and couldn’t help but soften at the sound of Anya running down the stairs yelling an excited ‘Harryyyy’ once she was past the kitchen.

She knew she got lucky with her commodities – an entire studio-like apartment past the main kitchen of the house, where the servant’s area used to be located a handful of decades ago; but she cussed in a whisper when she remembered half way through her making of a sandwich (four hours after she’d retreated to her bedroom and because she decided on skipping dinner that night, not having enough energy to cook) that her lazy ass still hadn’t bought mayonnaise. Her small kitchen had enough space to hold her snacks, along with some ingredients to make a few meals, since she only had to worry about food on the weekends. Reluctantly, she took the small plate holding her sandwich and made her way towards the main kitchen. There was no way in hell she’d eat a sandwich with no mayo – never in a million years, too dry to go down her throat.

I guess they won't mind if I grab just enough to put on my sandwich, she thought. The house was quiet, everyone probably already in bed, therefore she almost pissed herself when she found Harry sitting in one of the kitchen stools, looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression adorning his face. Almost as if he could sense someone was in the same room, he looked up to find Y/N standing at the kitchen threshold, his face abandoning any sort of emotion.

"Hey."

"Hi." Y/N walked towards the fridge on the far right of the kitchen, opposite from where she came in. "Sorry, I thought no one was here."

"Don't worry, just waiting for Bella and Alex to come back down to have some tea, they're putting the girls to sleep. Would you like to join us?" He offered. And honestly, she'd love to say yes and just listen to him talk with that deep, melodic voice, but her stomach was really hating her right now.

"I'm good, just grabbing some mayo. Thank you, though." She declined with a small smile.

"Next time." He sounded more demanding than suggesting, which slightly baffled Y/N. "Can I ask where you are from?" He asked respectfully.

"A small town in the Argentine Patagonia." Y/N replied with her back facing him as she busied herself with the mayonnaise container.

"Never been to Argentina. Or anywhere in South America, actually." And when Y/N turned around, sandwich in hand ready to go back to her room, their eyes met across the kitchen and she felt the heat creeping up her neck for the second time that night. Y/N wondered how his gaze was always this intense – she wasn’t a fan of how they’d barely exchanged a few words and somehow she felt so exposed.

"You should. It's beautiful." She almost, almost, choked on her own words and when she looked down at her fuzzy pink socks and back to him to try and calm her growing nerves down, he surprised her when she caught him looking up and down her body – in any other case she definitely would’ve felt creeped out, but there was something about him, the fact that he definitely didn’t do it with the intention of her catching him (she noticed how he shifted uncomfortably on his seat after the exchange) and how he simply added a “I’m sure it is," afterwards, she knew she was fucked right then and there – she wanted him looking at her. Was that something bad?

But then – then she remembered how she was wearing her soft cotton pajamas, and she began wondering if he was just laughing internally at her outfit instead of checking her out like she initially thought. And just like a save from heaven, Bella and Alex appeared in the kitchen discussing who was picking Ivy up from her friend's house. "Hi Y/N, still awake?"

"Yeah, got hungry. Stole a bit of mayo, hope you don't mind." She shyly held the plate up.

"Please, this is your house too." Alex waved her off.

"Thanks. Gonna go back now." Y/N pointed towards the small hallway that led to her room. "Goodnight." Turning her body to walk away, she caught Harry's eyes, again, still staring at her, but decided on simply walking away, breaking eye contact, making that small interaction their last one for the night.

&

The following week consisted of Anya and Y/N playing lots of fun games, trying to get a word out of Charlie and Ivy ignoring her for the most part. Her relationship with each of them was completely different, each trusting her at their own peace, getting used to having a stranger around. Anya seemed the only one openly excited to hang out with Y/N every day, and even though she could tell Charlie didn't exactly mind her presence, she still hadn't talked to her as much as she'd like her to.

"What are you up to, Charlie?" Y/N asked the seven year old as she sat next to her in the big playroom they had on the main floor. Charlie kept her gaze locked on her drawing with a handful of crayons on her right hand as she drew with her left. "You're left handed? That's so cool!" Bella had mentioned some time ago that Charlie had a really hard time letting people in, Y/N knew it'd take some time for her to see her as a friend -like she wanted her to- rather than someone who gets paid to hang out with her, but Bella confessed Charlie was actually really excited to meet Y/N, which felt like a small relief, knowing she actually wanted her there – unlike Ivy. Charlie spoke only when necessary and struggled with making friends but her psych pedagogue said she's just really shy and that ‘once she breaks out of her shell, she's unstoppable’. "I love the birds you drew here." Y/N pointed at some small birds sitting in a tree branch.

"Bluebirds." She murmured.

Getting a single word from her was considered progress, in Y/N’s opinion, but that’s all she got for the entire afternoon – even after constantly sending comments her way while playing with Anya so Charlie wouldn’t feel left out, not a single word came out of her mouth. Anya mentioned Harry at some point while talking about her favorite doll (which Harry had gifted her for her 3rd birthday) and the flash of captivating green eyes almost blinded her internally (she couldn’t deny she’d thought about Harry every once in a while this past week)

And it wasn’t until later that same day, after spending a long while sitting alone in a nearby park, she got the chance to see him again – even if he had scared her (almost) to death, she couldn’t help but feel an annoying flutter in her stomach.

She would like to say she loved her long walks during the most unreasonable times at night, but her reasoning behind her late night needs of distraction didn’t exactly thrill her. It was during the quietest and most peaceful times of the day when her mind seemed to speed faster than ever before; the sleepless nights and brain-wrecking thinking of how alone and empty she actually felt, along with the laziness and reluctance when it came to things that used to make her happy weighed her down like carrying a sack of potatoes on her back.

As she was walking past her neighbor's house (the one where she had seen that man with the suitcases last week) she noticed someone sitting on the large porch. Weird, she thought. She hadn't noticed any movement in the house since that night a week ago, to the point she even considered it being empty again. The silhouette seemed oddly familiar though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Y/N." She slightly jumped as she heard them call for her, in a strong and deep accent. Was that...

"Harry?" She asked befuddled. Did he live there? She watched as he stood up from his sitting position on the outdoor couch and walked across his front yard to take a closer look at him stopping at the bottom of the short staircase that leads to the porch. "What are you doing up so late?" And then something clicked in her brain – he was probably the man she saw that night, with his suitcases. It made sense, how he probably got home from vacation the same day he had dinner at the Lockehold's – the same day Bella mentioned something about him being in Italy

"Can't sleep." He simply replied, with a small sigh. He then nodded to the seat behind him, and Y/N could physically feel her brain going a thousand miles per minute. She sat on the far left of the couch as he retook his seat on the right, "what are you doing up so late?" He repeated her question.

And Y/N repeated his answer. "Can't sleep."

So they sat in silence, what felt like hours barely being a few seconds. "Didn't know you lived next door." Y/N took the time to take in his side profile - sharp and long nose, the tip curving slightly downwards when he spoke the next line.

"Never mentioned it." He replied apathetically. The unexpected switch in his tone made her immediately shut up, and even though it confused Y/N as to why he would want her joining him if he didn't want to talk, she was dreading going back to her room alone to drown in her thoughts again. She'd take uncomfortable company over being alone when her head got like this, it helped her get distracted; overthinking this situation instead of the same scenarios that constantly lived in her head.

They again sat in silence for a while, this time for longer than a few minutes, and even though it was slightly uncomfortable, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He just wanted company, and so did she. This time, however, it was him who tried for conversation. "Why did you choose England for your Au Pair program?"

"I was actually convinced I was going to choose France," Y/N shared with a soft tone, "but when I met the girls in one of my interviews I just knew I had to come here. Anya was so excited about meeting me, she thought it was already settled." She ended with a small smile on her lips. The memory of Anya smiling happily at her through the computer screen even when she hadn't had met her yet warming her heart.

It was true, the fact that she’d chosen England because of the girls. She wanted to learn French – she knew her way around the English language pretty well; but the French family whom interviewed her didn’t come close to the Lockehold’s at all – she thought maybe the experience of living in a whole different continent with a wonderful family was better than choosing a place because of the language – the experience was being experienced either way.

"Anya is a very special kid. They all are." Harry declared, the left corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small half smile.

Y/N nodded slowly before asking, "How long have you known them?" She could recall Alex saying he was a family friend – but she had no other information about him besides that.

"A while." The small conversation went for a long while, he shared the real reason as to why he was awake so late, explaining how he has struggled with falling asleep ever since he was young, but besides that comment, he kept his life very private; not sharing much information about himself during their chat, and every time Y/N reciprocated a question, he would either answer vaguely or didn't answer at all, changing the subject with another question. "It's really late" He commented, Y/N’s phone reading 1:08am.

"Yeah, I should probably go to bed." She lifted her head to look at him, who was already searching for her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat when a few moments passed by, again, with no one speaking a word. She wondered what could possibly be going through his head at the time, but he nodded, got up and said, "I'll see you around, Y/N." Her name flowed so nicely out of his lips it made her knees get weak. Locking herself in her bedroom (after entering it by the door at the side of the house – which leaded straight to her room) she laid in bed trying to understand why they’d just hang out in his front porch way past midnight when they clearly didn’t know each other very well – or at all, better said.

&

First day of classes came by in a heartbeat. The first Monday of September Y/N found herself getting up earlier than she was accustomed to, since the girl's sleeping schedule was different during the summer. 6:15am read her alarm when she lazily threw the soft covers off her body. A quick shower and minimal makeup application later, she stood naked next to her bed checking the weather app, as to know how to prepare the girl's clothes.

After putting a soft pink sweater on and a pair of flared jeans, Y/N left the warmth of her room to wake the girls up. Going for Charlie first (since she didn't need any help changing into her uniform and Ivy used her own alarm) she didn't give Y/N any work at all, waking up immediately after softly calling her name once. Picking her uniform from her closet and leaving it for her to change, Y/N left Charlie’s room to walk towards the next door.

"Morning, Anya." She whispered as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Anya’s little nose scrunched up and a soft whimper left her mouth as she switched positions, now laying on her side, "gotta wake up, love." Y/N shook her arm softly, and she finally opened her eyes, a tired smile creeping up her face as she noticed it was Y/N sitting next to her. Y/N left her to rub the tiredness off her eyes while she picked her clothes (since her daycare was at the same school her older sister's attended -Harry's school, Y/N couldn't help but think- her uniform consisted of only a white t-shirt with the school logo along with any pair of bottoms she chose for the day.

After picking up her cute small rain boots and help her get dressed up, Y/N did a cute hairstyle on her with the small butterfly hair clips she chose, and went back to Charlie's room to do her hair, Anya coming along.

They arrived at their school; a big, period-like brick building with hundreds of students roaming around and a beautiful fountain at the front – which actually made Y/N’s childhood look like a big joke; the school she had attended was located in the middle of the mountains in a remote field.

"I'll be here at two thirty. Good luck, girls, I'll see you later." Ivy walked away sending a 'mhm' her way to let her know she heard her, and Charlie offered a small smile along with a wave and walked away like her sister. Y/N took Anya off her car seat and helped her get out of the car, her tiny backpack sitting on Y/N’s right shoulder as she grabbed the hand Anya offered her.

"Mommy said I have the penguins' classroom!" She said with excitement as they walked through the doors at the right wing of the building.

"That's so cool! I love penguins, let's search for the door which has penguins on it, shall we?" Y/N suggested even though she could clearly see their door at the end of the hallway.

"Yes! This one has elephants," she pointed at the door they were passing, "look, butterflies!"

"Like your hairclips!" Y/N exclaimed, and she giggled nodding her head. "Ah! Look what we found..." Y/N pointed at the next door.

"Penguins!" She skipped towards the door, dragging Y/N along. They entered the big and colorful classroom where they found some kids crying in their parent’s arms, others being as excited as Anya.

"Hi there! Anya, am I correct?" A woman who appeared to be around Y/N’s age came up to them, scrunching down to be on Anya’s eye level. She nodded frantically, excitement dripping from her smile. "My name is Miss Pia, I'm going to be your teacher this year." She introduced herself, Anya gave her an even bigger smile and slyly asked if she could go meet her classmates, to which Miss Pia agreed, asking her to first hang her small backpack in the rack at the back of the room, taking it from my hands and running excitedly to do it.

"You must be Y/N, then?" Miss Pia asked, getting back up to her feet. She was short with blonde curly hair sitting high in a ponytail, rosy cheeks and a cute teacher apron on top of her regular clothes.

"I am." Y/N offered her hand.

"The administration office said we would be having an Au Pair this year, they always give us a heads up with situations like these." She explained, and Y/N nodded as she continued, "we have the parents, nannies or in this case, Au Pairs," they both laughed," stay for the introduction, you can leave afterwards."

"Perfect, I'll sit at the back with the rest of the parents." Y/N ended up staying for about half an hour, smiling at Anya every time she turned to search for her when something exciting seemed to be happening. She won't be needing any adaptation, as Miss Pia said, and she was dismissed right before they had their first trip to the playground outside, taking advantage of the fact that it hadn't started raining yet.

Right when Y/N was walking out of the building, she spotted Harry at the main entrance, reading something on his phone. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt underneath, and he looked even more handsome in the daylight. She made her way towards him, walking up the marble stairs (marble stairs! In a school?), and when he noticed her, he put his phone away and slowly (and trying to be as discrete as possible – which he failed to, again) looked up and down her body. Something about him giving her his full attention made her insides burn, and she couldn’t help but bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"Hi." She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to look at his eyes; they definitely looked a lot lighter now that there was natural light surrounding them.

"Hi." He repeated, "Dropped the girl's off?" He motioned towards the building with his head.

"Yes, just left Anya’s classroom." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Miss Pia?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes. She's nice, looks like she knows what she's doing." Y/N shrugged. She didn't exactly know her enough to have a conversation about her – and she most definitely couldn’t be one to talk, since she herself didn’t know what she was doing half of the time. “How’s the first day back been so far?” He got cut off from his next comment by his phone, and the small crease between his eyebrows grew deeper, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. "I'll leave you to it." She announced, but his eyes found hers again, and it was almost like he was asking for her to not leave him to it, but Y/N didn’t trust her instincts, not with him – not when he made her so nervous her brain couldn’t process things around him, and she was scared of misreading his expressions; he was hard to read. Not like she was expert at reading people but he was frustratingly confusing.

&

They didn't see each other again until a week later on a Tuesday evening – the same day Charlie, Anya and her decided to go for a walk and treat themselves with ice cream from a cute shop across from (what had come to be) her favorite park, Harry and Y/N found each other's eyes across his front garden, just like that night, but this time it was easy for her to recognize him as she could see his face clear and glowing from the sunset shine. His eyes were glued to her until the fence that divided their houses blocked his view, and again, Y/N wondered what could be going through his head.

It wasn’t until after dinner, past her work hours, she decided to leave the house through the door on her room with the sparking curiosity to test if she would run into Harry. Stopping on the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed he was not sitting outside, and even though that's exactly what she had expected -he was not going to sit there for hours and hours, right?- There still was a small feeling of disappointment that rushed through her, and when she snapped back into reality, it was too late to stop herself as she knocked on his front door.

And Y/N didn’t know where to hide – not like hiding would be less embarrassing but God she did hate herself that moment. The embarrassment running through her veins was painful and made her lightheaded – she knew she had trouble sometimes with not thinking things through, but this was beyond her. He barely knew her. And suddenly his door was wide open.

"Y/N?" Of course she was not lucky enough for him to be asleep and not hearing her knock – life would’ve been too in her favor for that to happen. Of course he was very awake with a half drank cup of tea in his hand and the softest looking pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. "Are you ok? You look really pale." His voice was calm, probably the softest it'd ever been in her presence. At least he doesn't sound mad, Y/N thought.

Harry wanted to be confused, but he was more curious than anything else. For some reason, he felt very intrigued by Y/N – how she seemed confident but insanely insecure at the same time; it reminded him of himself, if he had to be honest. He just learned how to hide the latter.

"Uh, yeah- um, I was-" she nervously turned around halfway to look behind her and back at him again. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and Y/N really tried her hardest not to step over her words. "I was about to go for a walk, uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Stupid. So, so stupid, Y/N thought.

"No, I'm good." He replied, finding oh-so-amusing the way her eyes gave her embarrassment away – he was having fun, watching her like a lost puppy trying to think through her next words.

Her mind was, of course, over speeding. She now felt even more embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to go for a walk, Y/N conscience spoke to her, it's a Tuesday night and he's probably tired and I'm his friends' Au Pair – he probably thinks I'm this young and annoying girl who has a stupid crush and- "would you like to join me?" He interrupted her self-beating up raising his cup and she noticed the half smile adorning his face, almost like he could tell the wheels in her brain were fast-moving.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt-"

"You're not. I wouldn't have invited you in if you were. C'mon in, now. It's kinda cold out here." He disappeared inside of his house, leaving her on his porch with an open mouth and a blank brain. After closing the door behind her and taking her black vans off, she turned on her left as she guessed that was the way Harry went – and she knew she’d guessed correctly when she stepped into a big open-plan concept living room with a giant kitchen on the far back, Harry standing with his back towards her preparing her tea, "sugar?"

"No, thank you." She sat in one of the stools at the kitchen island as she took the scene in front of her. Her very cute (and much older), very hot neighbor Harry, in sweatpants and a very thin white shirt, a small patch of skin showing on his hip, making her tea. His shoulders were broad and she could see his back muscles moving as he poured steaming hot water into the cup, the little curls on his neck so inviting, if only she could run her hand through his soft looking hair just once-

"There you go. Cardamom." He snapped her out of her (probably inappropriate) thoughts, and she thanked him as she grabbed the cup from where he placed it; he stayed in his position standing in front of her on the other side of the island, with his forearms against the cold marble, sipping on his own mug, thinking about how strange it felt to have someone he wasn’t close with sitting in his kitchen after so long. "Why are you up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I figured. I couldn't either, looks like we both have a bit of sleeping issues, huh?" He sounded playful, but tired. Y/N knew exactly how it felt, being so tired but not being able to peacefully go to bed and get some needed rest.

"I remember you mentioning it before, I figured I'd check if you were up. Walking helps me relax, thought maybe you'd enjoy it too." OK, that wasn't entirely true but her reasoning to be there was quite similar – to check if he was up so they could, maybe, share a quiet night like that one a few weeks ago. None of them understood why they found such comfort in each other’s company – none of them felt like they needed to try too hard.

At some point during their conversation they moved to the couch, where they laid with a wide gap between their bodies. "Elton John's was definitely an interesting read. Lots of crazy anecdotes, you should read it."

"Probably not as good as Keith's, but I'll give it a go." He let a dimpled smile creep into his face, turning his head to look at her from across the couch and the annoying turn her stomach made obliged her to return it, just as bright as his. Finding out their music taste was quite similar made Y/N’s insides all warm and fuzzy, he showed her his vinyl collection (which was quite large) and ranted about how the modern industry was missing a rock star with some of that unexplainable essence old rock bands have – to which she respond saying maybe that something that makes them special was the fact that they were old bands... added to the fact that even though she was an old music lover, modern pop was her guilty pleasure.

Their third teacups were long forgotten on the modern coffee table by the time he noticed Y/N’s eyes were slowly beginning to close and he, as last time, said, "it's really late." And Y/N only nodded and tiredly got up from her position, with him following close behind.

"Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for having me even though I came unannounced." She shyly said, her actions still making her embarrassed even though it had already been a couple of hours.

"My pleasure. We should- do this again," He coughed into his hand, and uncomfortably continued, "I enjoy your company." That sentence alone made her heart explode with a thousand emotions, because even though they barely knew each other and it clearly pained him to admit he enjoyed having her around, his presence made her calm but anxious in a peculiar mixture of emotions. All she did in return was gift him a big smile, face hot of embarrassment (a nice kind of embarrassment, that feeling when you just want to smile really big and tightly hug whoever is making you feel that way) and slowly pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He said lastly, and closed his front door with red cheeks and dimples on display.

- Joey.

[atlafan]

And They Were Roommates - Part Two

a/n: I wasn’t quite done with these two, but now I am. I hope you like the second part just as much as the first! Feedback and reblogs are always helpful. (not proofread) part one

Warnings: fluff, smut, a little angst

Words: 8.9K

Harry was a great friend, but he was an even better boyfriend, which, you’re sad to admit, you were a bit surprised about. You wouldn’t classify him as a player when you were in school, but he certainly have a certain amount of girls on rotation. Maybe he had just grown up a bit since then. He was always a gentleman with you anyways, but he had gone into overdrive with it. Doors were being opened for you, he started cooking more, cleaning more, and he’d even started to offer to help with the laundry. He was doing everything and anything just to see you smile. It didn’t take much for him to make you smile before, but still. It was nice to see him putting in some effort.

You were putting in some effort too. It’s not that either of you needed things to feel different, in fact, a lot of things felt the same, but you wanted him to feel the way he was making you feel. So, you offered up more neck rubs, more cuddles on the couch, and you started going to the coffee shop more since he asked you to.

After a date, his favorite joke to make was, “Mine or yours”, since you were going back to the same place. You’d always giggle because it genuinely was funny to you. You’d roll your eyes at him, decide on his bedroom or yours to get cozy in. Usually if you had sex in one bed, you slept in the other. You and Harry weren’t exactly having vanilla sex, so the sheets would get hot from your sweat. It was kind of nice to be able to shuffle across the hall to sleep in a cool bed.

He had no idea sex with another person could feel so good. Having sex with someone he truly cared about, well, the thought alone was enough to make him hard. Harry liked being the one to decide on the positions, but god did he love it when you’d ride him. He loved watching your face as you’d move up and down his cock. He loved looking down between the two of you and seeing the muscles in your stomach clench, or how your thighs would shake around him. You worked so hard for him, not letting him thrust up into you sometimes, sweat dripping down your spine until you both would come. You wanted to be good for him, and he’d tell you that you didn’t need to work so hard because you’d be exhausted after, but in the back of your head there was this fear that he would get bored with you. Harry got bored with people easily, there were only a few friends in his life that he kept around, you being one of them. You were never worried about it before, but now that he knew you in this way you were a little scared.

Sometimes those fears were put to rest when he’d come through the door from work and get his lips on yours immediately. You knew Harry to be a clingy person with the people he liked. In every class you had together in undergrad he had to sit next to you, it was the same now in your graduate courses, of course. If you could have a meal at the dining hall at the same time, he was right next to you, and when you used to come over for a movie he had you sit on the end of the couch so only he could sit next to you. You supposed when you sat back and thought about some of these things he easily could have had feelings for you then. It made you think if you did. Maybe you did, but maybe you didn’t. It didn’t really matter now, though.

You were roughly two weeks into a relationship with someone you had known almost five years, and was your best friend in the world. Other than school, work, and dates, you hadn’t really left your flat. Harry was much more interested in getting to know the parts of you he hadn’t been privy to before. You had yet to tell your friends what was going on, and they were starting to wonder why the two of you were blowing off plans. You told them it was because of school, but you weren’t sure they believed you. Harry said he was picking up a lot of extra shifts at work and that he was too tired to go out. You both knew you’d have to come clean to all of them soon, but you were having too much fun.

“Are you sure we should just be rolling up on him like this?” Niall asks Louis as they make their way into yours and Harry’s complex.

“He’s been working himself to the bone, the lad needs some fun. What are you, nervous to see Y/N?” Louis smirks at him.

“Course not.” Niall shrugs. “That was just a one-time thing between friends.”

“So, if she offered to do it again, you wouldn’t?”

“Well, I-“

They both stop short at the door because they could have sworn they heard moaning. They did. What started out as a simple cuddle on the couch while you and Harry watched a little TV turned into having his head between your legs with his tongue fucking in and out of you.

“Fucking, Christ, Harry.” You groan, and it makes him moan into you. You tug on his hair as your back arches.

“Must be watching a movie.” Louis shrugs and knocks on the door. “Oi, oi! It’s us, mate!”

“Harry!” You gasp and yank his head up. “What are they doing here?!”

“I have no idea!” He licks his lips and wipes the rest off with the back of his hand. “Shit, and you were just about to come too.” He pouts.

“It’s fine…just…” You get up and pull your sweatpants up. “Figure out what they want.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have to pee, is that alright?”

“All my hard work, down the toilet, literally.”

“You’re…such an idiot.” You roll your eyes and walk down the hall to the bathroom.

He groans and tucks himself as to not expose the raging hard on that he was just rutting against the couch. The guys knock again, and he sucks his teeth.

“I’m coming, chill out!” Harry opens the door in a huff. “I’ve neighbors, you know?”

“He lives!” Niall says with a chuckle as he and Louis enter the flat.

“I don’t believe I invited either of you in.” Harry says, crossing his arms.

“What are we, vampires?” Louis scoffs. “Where you been, mate? You need to have some fun, so we thought we’d bring it to you.”

“I’ve been…working a lot.” Harry rubs the back of his neck and looks in the direction of the bathroom, then back to the guys.

“We totally get that.” Niall says in defense. “But you have to make time for other things. Gotta have a balance.”

“Hi, guys.” You say shyly as you come back into the living room.

“Y/N! Hey, how are you?” Louis says.

“I’m good. Um, did you all have plans tonight?”

“No, I would have told you.” Harry says to you. He clears his throat and looks back at the guys. “Look, uh, we’re staying in tonight to work on this research paper. We were just taking a break.” He points with his thumb to the TV. “M’sorry you came all the way over here…I did say I was busy tonight, though.”

“What kind of research paper?” Niall asks.

“It’s for our social behavior class.” You say. “Lot of psychology involved, which neither of us really shine in, so we’re working on it together.”

“Y/N, are you feeling alright?” Louis asks and steps closer to you. “Your face is all flushed, love.” He says softly.

“I’m fine, thank you. Um, I’m gonna go back to my room. It was nice seeing you both, I’m sure we’ll be able to get together soon.” You smile and turn back down the hall to your room.

“You don’t think she feels awkward because of me, do you?” Niall whispers.

“I can assure you, mate, she’s not thought twice about your little bathroom adventure.” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “We really are busy, so, uh…if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Alright.” Louis sighs. “Well, make time for us soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods and watches them both leave. He lets out a puff of air, and then races down to your room. “Okay, where…what are you doing?”

You were sitting at your desk with some papers and highlighters out, along with your laptop.

“Um, we actually do have a research paper for social behavior so…”

“Come on, Y/N, you were so close and-“

“The moment has passed, I’m afraid.” You chuckle. “You can work with me in here if you like.”

“You…you seriously don’t wanna get back to it?”

“Maybe in a little bit. I’ve switched gears, Har.”

“I’ll go get my laptop.” He sighs, clearly annoyed. He returns shortly and plops down on your bed. “Gotta say, this isn’t great for my ego.” He grumbles.

“When have I ever given a fuck about your ego?” You smirk at him. “Think I’m the only girl in your life to not drop to the ground and kiss your feet.”

“You know, you don’t have a problem praising me when I’m deep inside your little cunt.”

“I could easily lay there and not make any noise, would you like that?”

“Are you saying it’s all an act?”

“No.” You shrug. “I’m just saying, I can easily look at you and not make noise if I really wanted to, so, shut up, and do some homework.”

“You’re mean.” He mutters.

“Shouldn’t be news to you, baby.” You say as you turn back to your notes. You didn’t see it, but Harry was smiling at you fondly.

He was the one to use more of the terms of endearment. They just rolled off his tongue better. He was still getting used to you using them, and he loved it.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“These last couple of weeks have been really great, right?”

“Yes, Harry.” Your attention wasn’t fully on him.

“When…uh…when do you think we should tell our friends?” This catches your attention, so you turn to face him again. “I feel weird lying.”

“So do I.” You sigh. “I guess soon. I mean, what are we telling them exactly, that we’re fucking?”

“I hope not because it’s more than that, I mean you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

Your eyebrows raise at that.

“I don’t know, am I?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Is this your way of asking?”

“I just figured it was a given.”

“Why would you figure that? A lot of people wait before putting a label on it.”

“Do you think we’re just fucking?”

“No, I’d say we’re dating.”

“But you don’t think you’re my girlfriend?”

“I never said that.” Your lips curve up in a smile. “Being in a relationship implies that both parties wouldn’t be seeing anyone else. Is that what you want?”

“Obviously.” He mumbles.

“So ask me, then.” You get up from your desk and move to straddle him.

“You’re really gonna make me?”

“Mhm.” You wrap your arms around his neck and grin.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

You giggle and nod as you kiss him. He kisses you back, smiling into it at first. His hands drift to your ass and he gives you a squeeze.

“Wow, Harry Styles with a girlfriend, angels must be crying.” You joke and swats at your bum.

“Be nicer to me.” He whines.

“I’m sitting on you, aren’t I?” You peck his lips again.

“It’s not where I’d like you to be sitting.” He mutters.

“And where would you like me to…no, Harry, I really wanna get some homework done.”

He makes an exasperated noise. He used to do the same thing in undergrad, finding anything to distract the two of you from getting your work done, but usually you could bribe him with coffee or a pastry to get him to focus. You had something much better to bribe him with now, though. You bring your lips to the shell of his ear.

“If you’re good and focus, I’ll ride your face for however long you want me to later.”

“Oh, so you’re done bribing me with cannolis then, I see how it is.” He smirks as you get off of him, and back to your desk chair.  

“If that’s what you’d prefer to lick into, I’d be happy to buy one.” You wink and get back to your work.

He laughs, and starts doing his own work. You sit in a comfortable silence, the only sound in the room coming from the buzz of the TV down the hall for whatever show you hadn’t been watching. After an hour or so, you need a break. Your laptop screen was starting to bother your eyes.

“You know…” You say to him and he looks up from his own laptop. “If there’s a night you wanna go hang out with them, it’s perfectly fine. You don’t have to spend all your free time with me, Harry.”

“I know, I just happen to like spending all my free time with you.” He smiles. “I’ve always felt that way.”

You smile and close your laptop. He sets his own down and holds his arms out for you. You crawl on top of him and rest your head on his chest as you nuzzle in. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

“I’m really glad we get to do this like this.” He says and you look up at him. “No more having to be overly careful, you know?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “No awkwardness if we accidentally touch something we shouldn’t.”

“Not at all.”

You inch up his body a bit and press your lips to his. And just like that you were off again. He got you naked so fast you barely had time to blink. He had you sitting on his face, riding his tongue for nearly thirty minutes. You came twice, and your chest was heaving. You definitely understood why some of the girls he used to hook up would whine when he wasn’t available. He was really good at this. He’d say things to you while he was down there, but it was muffled. It made you moan still because of the vibrations going right up inside you.

“Jesus, ugh, Harry.” You throw your head back as you feel another orgasm bubbling up inside.

He squeezes your ass and moans into you. You cry out, gripping at your headboard and his hair as he works you through it. You slowly lift yourself off of him with wobbly legs, and lay on your back, out of breath. You look up at him and see he’s licking his lips and smiling.

“I’ve never been with a guy who liked doing that so much.” You say, voice a little hoarse.

“Love it.” He says as he looks at you. “Nothing better than making someone else feel good.”

You hum your response and slide your hand over his apparent bulge. You dip your hand into his sweatpants and palm him over his boxers. His breath hitches when you give him a little squeeze. You shuffle between his legs and pull his clothes off. He opens his legs wider for you, and bring your lips down to his tip. It was like you were suddenly addicted to each other. You weren’t sure if it was unhealthy or if you were just in a honeymoon phase of a new relationship. When you wrap your lips around him and suck you lose all will to care. You look up at him and see his head thrown back, and his hips buck up into your mouth. You choke on him for a moment, and he apologizes in a husky grunt.

“Do it again.” You say to him.

“Excuse me?” He sits up on his elbows.

“You can…like move yourself in and out of my mouth if you want.”

“Go put your hair up.” You nod and grab an elastic from your desk. You put it up in a messy bun, and he grips you by the back of the head. “Just slap my leg if it’s too much, and I’ll stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

Harry was big, but you were getting better at relaxing and letting your throat open up as much as possible for him. You open up wide for him, letting your tongue fall out, and he pushes you down on him. You close your eyes and breathe through your nose as his hips rock against you. He moves your head along with his thrusts. You gag for a moment, but you’re okay. You grip the blankets on either side of his hips, and he takes off. He was moving you fast, and hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. But you were okay. It didn’t hurt, he was still being gentle in a way.

“Christ, I’m gonna fucking come, I wish you could see yourself, Y/N.” He groans. “No one’s ever been as good as you, fuck, oh fuck, babe, I’m-“ He’s cut off by the moan he just couldn’t hold back anymore.

You look up at him, tears rimming your eyes, and slowly slide your mouth up his shift so you don’t make a mess. His mouth hangs open as he watches you swallow his come. You stick your tongue out after to show him it’s all gone, and he yanks you to him to kiss you.

This was how things were for a while. Even with your body so tired from him just using his tongue on you, you wanted more of him. You wanted all of him, and he wanted all of you.

//

A week or so later, Harry asked Niall and Louis to come to the coffee shop after their work day. Harry tells his supervisor he’s gonna take his fifteen, and sits down with them.

“Hey, thanks for meeting here.” Harry says as he sits down.

“Course.” Louis says. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything fine. Really great, actually. Um, I haven’t been entirely truthful about why I’ve been so busy lately.”

“No shit, let’s hear it.” Niall says.

“I’m…well, I have a girlfriend.” They both widen their eyes at him. “And it’s Y/N.”

“You’re fucking with us.” Louis says.

“No way you pulled the trigger.” Niall says.

“It’s true! Look.” He takes his phone out and shows them a picture of the two of you. You were laughing while he was kissing your cheek.

“Wow, a cheek kiss.” Louis says. “Big fucking deal.”

“You really don’t believe me?” They both shake their heads no. “How can I-“

You walked in right then, and he smiled. He smiled in a way the boys had never really seen before. You sit down with all of them.

“Hey.” You kiss his cheek. “You tell ‘em?”

“Yeah, but they don’t believe me.”

You turn to them and furrow your eyebrows.

“Why don’t you believe him? Does this help?” You were wearing a scarf, so you move it to the side to show the hickey he had left on your neck.

“He said you were his girlfriend, is that true?” Louis asks. “Like, it’s official?”

“Yup.” You say with a smile. “It happened a few weeks ago.” He puts his hand over yours.

“Well, I think it’s great.” Niall says. “I always thought you two would make a good couple.”

“Thanks.” Harry says and raises your hand to his lips. “I gotta get back to work. I’ll get you some decaf, baby.” He gets up and goes back behind the counter.

“Definitely official, called you baby instead of babe.” Louis smirks.

“He’d call me babydoll and stuff.” You shrug.

“How’s it been going so far? Like, how come you both were staying in so much?” Niall asks and you blush.

“Um…well…we were just sort of busy.” You clear your throat. Harry comes back with your coffee and kisses the top of your head.

“Don’t pester her with questions, yeah?”

“Oi, we weren’t.” Louis says. He looks down at the table as you pull your laptop out. “Seems like you have some work to do, and I had a long day myself, so we’ll head out. But we really are happy for you both.” He stands up and so does Niall.

“Yeah, seriously.” Niall smiles. “Have a good night.”

Harry gets back to work, and you set up shop with your books and laptop. It was nice getting work done for school while Harry was behind the counter. Every once in a while you’d glance at each other, or he’d come over to refill your decaf. The walk home later was cold, but you couldn’t find it in you to care since he had his arm around your shoulders.

//

You told Rachel over lunch one day, and she was absolutely thrilled. She held back from saying it was about time, but you could tell she wanted to say it. Now that all of your immediate friends knew, things wouldn’t be so awkward at Ashley and Kevin’s housewarming party. Okay, it wasn’t a “house” they had gotten a townhome, but still, it was a big step.

“Ugh, m’all bloated.” You groan as you zip up your black jeans.

“Why don’t you wear leggings?” Harry asks from his room as he finishes up getting dressed.

“Because I wanna look adult.” You pout.

“Just because they’re two years older than us doesn’t mean they’re any more mature.” He smirks as he stands in your doorway. “You look cute.”

“Thanks.” You sigh and grab your coat. “Let me just stock my purse up with some extra tampons, you can never be too careful.”

He nods and goes to wait by the front door. Harry was no stranger to your period. He was actually really cool about it from the second you moved in. Your pads and tampons were out on the sink counter in this cute jar he had gotten you because he wanted you to feel comfortable. You did, however, have a conversation with him recently that you didn’t like having sex on your period, and not because it was gross, you didn’t really care about that. The times you had done it you were too worried about making a mess to enjoy it, so you told him the store was closed for the week, and he respected that.

Once you were ready, he takes your hand and your fingers stay intertwined for the entire cab ride to Ashley and Kevin’s. There would be other friends at the party, of course, but the people that knew would be there and it would be fine. Even though Rachel was tickled pink about the two of you, she was sort of shocked to see how affectionate you both were being in front of everyone. Normally at parties you two would stand close to each other, maybe your shoulder would be pressed to his arm, but that was it. This time around his arm was around your shoulders, and he’s lean down to kiss your temple, or his hand would move to rub your back.

Ashley and Kevin were making their way around the room, mingling and saying hello. Ashley’s jaw just about drops when she sees you peck Harry’s lips while refilling your small plates with appetizers.

“Hold up.” She says as she comes over to you both. “What’s going on here?” She was smiling ear to ear. “You weren’t like this at my wedding. Did something that happen that night?!”

“No…but like a week later something happened.” You say, also smiling. “We’re together now.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!” She hugs you both. “I’m so happy for you. I need to hear this story. Kev! Get over here, you’re not gonna believe this. Harry and Y/N are dating!”

“No shit, good for you guys.”

“So, how’d it happen?” She asks again giddily.

“Um, well…” He looks at you. He couldn’t very well say you had taken photos for your Only Fans. “We were just chatting about something, and I sort of blurted out that I wouldn’t mind being more than friends, and um, she felt the same way. Not much more to it than that.” He shrugs.

“Well, did you kiss at least?” Ashley laughs.

“Yes.” You say, giggling. “We kissed, and then some.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “We barely left our flat for three weeks!” You all laugh. Everyone was a tad tipsy from the drinks Ashley and Kevin provided.

You had similar conversations with friends for most of the night. The only time you left Harry’s side was to use the bathroom. When you come back you see him chatting with Nadine, and you frown. They had hooked up back in the day, on several occasions. It didn’t bother you then, but it’s bothering you now. You take a deep breath, and walk confidentially back over to him. You hook your arm right around his waist, and he smiles down at you.

“Hey, Nadine.” You say.

“Hey, Y/N.”

She didn’t like you much either. You were the girl Harry always had to get to or go see. You were the reason he never spent the whole night, and you were the reason she never got to spend the night at his place. You annoyed her to no end.

“Did Harry give you the good news? We’re dating.” You grin.

“I was, um, just getting to that.” He blushes.

“You don’t say?” There was fake delight laced in her words. “Well, good for you two.”

“Yeah, it’s been great, fantastic really.” You take a sip of your drink. “What about you, seeing anyone special?”

“Not at the moment.” The eye contact between you two was intense, and Harry could feel the tension.

“Right, well, it’s getting late, don’t you think?” He says to you. “Might be good to start drinking some water and then head out.”

You nod at him as he slips away to go get some water.

“So, what made you finally decide to hop on his dick, hm? It’s big, isn’t it?” Nadine smirks at you.

“He told me he liked me, wanted to date me, and fuck me. He really made the first move, not me. It was sweet, actually. And yeah, it is big. How nice of you to remember.” You give her a fake smile and she scoffs.

“You think you’re so special, but you’re not. He’ll get bored with you, Y/N. Why do you think he had so many girls on rotation in school? He doesn’t like fucking the same person over and over.”

“Are you sure about that? Because he tells me all the time that he can’t get enough of me. He’s not douchebag anymore, he’s grown up a lot. I don’t need to defend him or myself to you, but just know you’re dead wrong.” She had said your biggest fear to your face, but as she said it you couldn’t help but feel like you wanted to laugh. He could never be bored of you.

“Here.” He says, handing you a water bottle. “It was nice seeing you Nadie. Y/N, come on, our cab’ll be here soon.”

“Nadie.” You scoff under your breath as he leads you out to say goodbye to your other friends.

“Are you mad that she and I were catching up?” He says to you in the back of the cab.

“No, why would I be?”

“Because you’re sitting there with your arms crossed. Think there’s actual steam coming out of you.” He places a finger on your shoulder. “Ow! Scalding hot.”

You look at him slowly, and you can’t help the chuckle that escapes you.

“Idiot.”

“Come on, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing! I just…I don’t know I suddenly remembered that I don’t like her very much, and she sure as shit doesn’t like me.”

“She doesn’t like you because she knows all she ever was to me was a quick fuck, and you were my best friend. She wanted more, I didn’t, case closed.”

“Well, she needs to get over it. There’s no need for her to be nasty towards me.”

“To be fair, you did sort of come over to us like you were claiming your territory.”

“I was.”

“Y/N.” Harry sighs.

“You’re the only one allowed to be jealous?”

“No.” He runs a hand through his hair. “You just…you know, you have nothing to worry about.”

You look at him wide eyed like a puppy. You nod and rest your head on his shoulder for the rest of the cab ride. Once you’re inside and changed, you both go to his room to sleep. He cuddled you nice and close all night, squeezing out any worry you may have had.

//

“It’s shit.” He says to you while working in the library.

“It’s not shit.”

“It is, though. I’m shit at lesson plans, and therefore it’s shit.”

“Harry, I actually really like what you’ve put together. It’s different, and you’re clearly using the multiple intelligences theory here, which is good.” Your eyes scan things over. Harry was hoping to be a year eight English teacher.

“It’s just so hard to keep their attention at that age, so I’m just trying to think of different things, you know?”

“I can see that.” You set the paper down. “This is really good. This is a great UbD.”

“The professor showed us different ways to set the courses up, but I like the UbD the best because I feel like I’m able to flesh out my ideas better.”

“I do the same exact thing, see.” You turn your laptop around to show him. “I’d be lost without it.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“You’re gonna be a great teacher, Harry, give yourself some credit.”

“I wish we could student teach again. I feel like I was getting the hang of it, and now we don’t get to do it again until after we graduate.” He sighs.

“I know, it’s frustrating. We’ll get there, though.” You reach across the table and take his hand in yours. “Maybe we’ll even end up in the same school district.”

“We could end up at the same school if someone didn’t need to teach at the high school level.”  

“You’re the one choosing to work with twelve-year-old!” You scoff. “Disgusting. You’re gonna be talking to them more about B.O. than English.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll take that over some sarcastic too cool for school teens any day.” He smirks.

“Let’s just agree that we both have different strengths for dealing with different age groups of students.” You say.

“Deal.” He looks at you as you turn your laptop back to yourself. “Do you feel like going out for dinner tonight? We could get some curry.”

“I’d like that.” You smile. You watch as he scan over his lesson plan again, a smile creeping onto his face. He was gaga over you, and it felt nice.

//

After two months, you both decided to tell your families you were dating. Your parents thought you had lied about even being friends with Harry just so they’d be cool about you moving in with him, but you assured them that wasn’t case. Once they calmed down, they were actually really happy for you. They never had any issues with Harry. Harry’s family was overjoyed because they always liked you too. Everything was working out well…until Harry got mad at you.

You had fought plenty of times as friends. It happened when you were around the same person so much, but usually you could smooth it over by watching Dirty Dancing and having some drinks. You weren’t sure why that particular movie always cheered you both up and brought you back together, but it did. This time, however, he wasn’t having it. Even when you set up the living room all nice.

“You’re seriously still giving me the silent treatment?” You ask him as he walks right by the living room and into his bedroom. “Harry, I don’t even know what I did!”

“Exactly!” He finally shouts at you. “You can be so self-absorbed sometimes!”

“Me?! I’m self-absorbed?!”

“Yeah, you!” He huffs. “You really don’t know why I’m upset?”

“Obviously not!”

“Christ! Fine, you wanna know? Come with me.” He grabs your wrist and yanks you into the kitchen. “I worked three doubles in a row, barely have been here to use anything in this kitchen, however, the sink is full of dishes, the dishwasher needs to be run, and the trash is about ready to overflow. If you’re not at school, you’re home doing nothing! It pisses me off to walk through the door and see a mess like this! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be so messy in all the time I’ve known you, Y/N! And I shouldn’t have to take care of it, I didn’t make the mess!”

“So you just passive aggressively-“

“Don’t even start, I shouldn’t have to ask you to-“

“Don’t start?! Harry, I’m the one that scrubs down the bathroom, I’m the one that does laundry for the both of us, and-“

“Yeah, because you have the time to do it! You don’t have a real fucking job that leaves you feeling exhausted!” Your jaw drops at that. “Don’t look at me like that. What you do requires no real skill or talent. Anyone can take pictures and sell them on the internet, Y/N. You’re too fucking lazy to do anything else.”

“I…I can’t believe what’s coming out of your mouth right now.” You huff as you start to run the water for the sink.

“Oh, so now you’re cleaning up?!”

“Shut up, Harry!” You seethe as you start scrubbing the dishes. You throw a pod into the dishwasher and let it run. “I knew it bothered you that I had an Only Fans, it was only a matter of time before-“

“It doesn’t bother me that you have one, what bothers me is that you act like it’s back breaking labor when it’s not! You get paid thousands of dollars for what? A picture of you sucking on a lollypop? Big fucking deal!”

“Get away from me.” You say as you continue to wash the dishes and put them in the strainer aggressively.

“You’re gonna break the plates if you do it like that.” He grabs a towel to start drying them.

“Stop! Just stop! Go take a shower or something, I don’t wanna be around you right now. All I did was neglect a few dirty dishes, and you’re acting like it’s the end of the fucking world.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry you don’t think I have a real job. Should I make it real? Should I make it more labor intensive? Maybe I’ll start taking my clothes off and doing lives where I fuck myself, would you prefer that?”

He doesn’t say anything because he knows if he does he’ll be wrong. Maybe he was wrong for blowing up at you, and bringing what you do into this, but he was pissed. He felt disrespected. He busts his ass to live comfortably and to afford school, and there you are a photo here, a video there, and two grand later you’re good to go for a few weeks. Personally, he wouldn’t want you exposing yourself like that on the internet, and he knew you’d never do it, you were way too shy. But if it was something you really wanted to do to make more money, what could he say? He had to support you.

“Do what you want, just pick up after yourself.” He says and walks away.

You sigh heavily and clean up the rest of the kitchen. You did feel bad for neglecting things, you felt awful, actually. You hadn’t even realized how much of a mess you had made. It really wasn’t fair to him. He does a lot of other chores around the flat on top of everything else, you had no excuse. And maybe you didn’t ‘work’ everyday, but you understood his point. He said some things that really weren’t okay, but unfortunately that was Harry when he got to that point of overworked and tired. You just usually weren’t the one to get the brunt of it.

Once the kitchen is spotless, and you’ve taken the trash out, you creep down the hall and stand in front of his open door. He was laying in bed, on top of his covers, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey.” You say softly. “I cleaned everything up. I’ll…I’ll try to be better about not letting things pile up, I’m sorry.” He looks at you now.

“S’okay.”

“That being said…don’t yell at me like that again. You…you said some hurtful things, and I didn’t like it.”

“I did.” He nods. “And I feel terrible, I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You shake your head.

“No, I’m sorry.” He sits up. “What you do is a real job, I-“

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore if that’s alright.” Your bottom lip quivers. “Can I come in?”

“Of course, baby.”

You pad into his room and knee onto his bed. He lays back down so you can lay on top of him. He rubs your back as you nestle into his chest. You give him little kisses and he sighs. You look up at him and pout.

“I don’t like it when you’re upset with me, I never have.”

“That’s because it happens so rarely.” He smooths some hair away from your face. “Usually I’m the one to make you mad.” He smirks.

“Only because you’re such a brat.” You pout again. “But I guess this time around it was me being the brat.”

“I wouldn’t call you a brat, babe. I didn’t even think dirty dishes would bother me that much. I feel like I know how my mum felt coming home from work and getting mad when we didn’t pull the chicken out of the freezer.” He chuckles. “I really am sorry about what I said to you, I won’t talk to you like that again, no matter how angry I am.”

“How about you talk to me before you even reach that level of anger?”

“Deal.” He smiles and you lean in to kiss him. “You set the movie up, let’s go watch.”

“After.” You shake your head and kiss his neck.

He wraps his arms around you tighter as you mouth at his soft skin. He gets goosebumps from your hands running up and down his bare chest. He rolls the both of you over, and presses his lips to yours. His tongue slides along your bottom lip, and you open up for him. His tongue molds to yours, and he moves to bite and suck on your bottom lip. You moan softly as he does so, and he hooks his fingers into your sweatpants. You lift your hips to help him get them off. He brings your underwear with them, and slides his fingers teasingly through your folds. Your hand goes to the back of his neck to keep his lips on yours as he rubs around your slit. One of your hands dips down to slide inside his sweatpants, and you wrap your hand around his length. He grunts, and slips his middle finger inside you. You pump him slowly as he works his finger in and out of you.

“More, Harry.” You grit your teeth, and he does as you say, adding another finger inside you. He curls them up, and pets against your front wall. “Shit.” Your breath hitches, and he moves further down to get his tongue on your clit while he pumps his fingers in and out of you, thus letting go of his hard dick. “I wanna touch you too.” You whine.

His eyes flick up to yours and he smirks. You watch as he kitten licks your clit, not giving a shit about what you just said. He sucks on your clit harshly and you gasp, gripping at his blankets. He goes back to flicking his tongue back and forth on the small bundle while his fingers rub against your g-spot. You start squirming underneath him, but he holds you in place. Your breathing was getting heavier, and you could feel the beginning of your orgasm approaching already.

“H-Harry, oh my god, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck!” All of the air leaves your lungs as you come to your release. He pumps his fingers inside you still, not letting up, prolonging things for you. “Jesus Christ.” You breathe once he pulls away. You watch as he gets his sweatpants off, and sits up against the headboard.

“C’mere.” He says softly.

“Want me on top, baby?”

“Yeah.” He smiles.

You get on top of him, give his cock a few pumps, and then sink down on him. You both sigh with relief, and sit there for a moment. He tugs your shirt off and kisses between your breasts as you move your hips in slow circles on him. His tongue swirls around one of your nipples and then he sucks on it. One of your hands grips his hair, and the other is on his shoulder. His hands move to your hips, and he starts moving you on him. You use your knees to help yourself move up and down as he thrusts up into you.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He moans and you lean down to kiss him. He feels like he could burst now, but he holds back. He expectantly moves you so you’re on your back once again.

“Thought you want me on top?”

“I did…but I don’t wanna come yet.” He pecks your lips and grabs both of your hands, resting them on the pillow on either side of your head. His fingers intertwining with yours. He pulls out almost all the way, and snaps his hips hard back into you.

“Oof!”  You gasp and look at him. “Do that again.”

His lips move to your neck as he pounds into you over and over. It wasn’t difficult for him to make you come again, and with the way you were squeezing his hands, and with how you were clenching around his cock, it was a wonder he hung on for how long he did. He comes inside you, painting your walls and filling you up. He kisses your forehead and gives you three quick kisses to your lips before pulling out. He rests his head on your chest, and you play with his damp curls.

“Could we just watch the movie in your bed?” He breathes. “I think that’ll be cozier.”

“Great idea.” You kiss the top of his head. “So…we’re good?”

“Yeah, babe.” He looks up at you. “We’re good.”

After you’ve both cleaned up, you grab your laptop and get comfy in bed with Harry and Dirty Dancing. Like always, once Hungry Eyes starts playing, you both start singing. You giggle and feel even better once it’s over. You stay cuddled to him and he rubs your back soothingly. He tugs your leg up over waist and he sighs.

“Is this more comfortable?” You giggle.

“Mhm.” He hums as his eyes flutter closed. You lean up to kiss his cheek.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

//

First year of grad school down, only one more to go. It was finally summer, and you could relax for a little bit. With classes over it also meant you could do the spring cleaning you neglected to do. Usually you’d go through your clothes once a season to make room for new things, and to donate what you didn’t wear anymore.

“Who gave you the right to be so fucking sexy?” You hear Harry say from behind you in your doorway. You turn to look at him. You look down at yourself. You were wearing a pair of mesh shorts, a tee shirt that had grease stains on it, and your hair was up in a greasy bun.

“Um…sure you’re talking to me?” You chuckle.

“Mhm, when did you take this one?” He turns his phone around and you blush.

You had done a photoshoot recently when Harry worked a double shift. You wore a hot pink short-sleeve crop top and a pair of black lace panties. A lot of the shots were from above, licking a lollypop, to mimic you sucking a dick.

“Like…last week, I think.” Your face was beat red. “I posted them yesterday.”

“I can see that.”

“Harry…you paid fifty dollars for a photo I could have just easily shown you?”

“Wouldn’t be very fair, would it?”

“You give me free food and coffee from the coffee shop all the time.”

“True. Just think of it as me supporting a small local business, yeah? You really do look gorgeous in this.” You make a funny face at him. “I was just looking at your comments and I saw you posted new stuff, okay?”

“Do you ever leave comments?”

“No.” He mutters. “It be too obvious.” He comes in and sits on your bed. “What are you doing in here, anyways?”

“Going through my clothes to see what I can donate.” You watch him look around your space. “What?”

“Whose bed is comfier, mine or yours?”

“Mine.”

“Whose room is bigger?”

“Yours.” You furrow your brows. “What are you cooking up there?”

“I…well…we’ve been sleeping together almost every night now, and we’ve been together for, like, five months…do you wanna just consolidate?”

“Harry.” You grin and come over to straddle him. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“You’re an idiot.” He rolls his eyes and you laugh. “Doesn’t it make sense? We could leave this room as a guest room, or sell my bed and put both of our desks in here as like an office.”

“Could I keep using this closet as my own? We both have so much shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay!” You nearly squeal as you hug him. “Let’s do it!”

“Really, you’re into it?”

“We share every other space, why not the bedroom?”

//

After taking a couple of weeks to rearrange things, Harry’s bedroom soon became your shared bedroom. When you could, you took some long weekends with him to travel and go on small trips. You met up with Louis and Niall at the clubs when you could, and it was always fun. You felt bad sometimes because Harry could over do it with the PDA, especially if he was really sloshed, but the guys didn’t seem to mind. They’d usually get up from the booth to go meet people anyways. Not that Harry noticed because he was too busy keeping his tongue in your mouth. Like tonight.

“Mm, Harry!” You pant and push on his chest. “Let me breathe, yeah?”

“Sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Where’d they go?”

“Probably to go find someone to make out with so they wouldn’t feel so left out.”

“I can’t help it, you’re intoxicating, Y/N.” He noses your cheek and goes to your neck to suck on it. You groan and tug on his hair.

You cling to him as he sucks a fresh mark into your neck. He had one hand on the back of your head, and the other was squeezing your hip. He tugs you onto his lap as discretely as he can, and you roll your hips down onto him. You whimper when you feel his bulge.

“M’not fucking you in the bathroom.” You grunt.

“Wasn’t going to ask you to.” He says into your ear. He shifts you onto one of his thighs. “Don’t really need to go in there to get you off, do I?’ You feel him smirk against you.

“Jesus.” You say and rock back and forth on his thigh. “You better fully take care of me when I get home, this is just going to rile me up.”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving you hanging, babydoll.”

You groan again at the term of endearment, and kiss him. He moves his leg up so there’s a little more pressure for you. You hide your face in his neck to muffle any noise you make, not that anyone could hear you over the blaring music. Harry looks around briefly to make sure no one was watching, and they weren’t. Everyone was in their own little world, thank god. He loved it when you’d get like this for him. He’d start out as the needy one, and then it would become you who was needy for him.

“Harry.” You gasp when you feel yourself just about there. “Shit.” You cry out into his neck as you come undone. He moves his thigh from side to side to really help you ride it out. You move to look at him and he giggles when he sees your smudged make up.

“Poor thing.” He uses his thumbs to wipe under your eyes.

“Does it look bad?”

“Nah, you’re fine.” He pecks your nose. “Wanna go home?”

“Yeah, I wanna get these jeans off.”

“Mm, me too.”

You suck your teeth and roll your eyes as you climb off of him. You find Niall and Louis to say goodbye, and out the door you go. Your leg was bouncing the entire cab ride back. You were excited to see what Harry had in store for you. Needless to say, he didn’t leave you hanging.

//

Another year of grad school down. It was a year filled with love, a few fights, and a lot of making up. Living together the way you were was still working out great. Both of your families were extremely proud of you on your commencement day. There was just a tough decision you each had to make. You couldn’t find jobs in the same school district at this time, and neither of you wanted to compromise on the year you were teaching.

You each got a couple of job offers in various places. Some closer to each other than others. You couldn’t stop yourself from daydreaming about working at the same place, though. All of the kids would know you and Harry were together, and it was just be the cutest thing ever.

“Hey, look at this. These two schools are only an hour from each other.” He says as you both look over the paperwork for offers. “We could find a flat at a halfway point to live in. We’d still be relatively close to where we are now, so we’d still see our friends. Probably make some new ones.”

“You hate making new friends.” You smirk and use your laptop to look up flats at a halfway point. “I suppose we could make this work…although, I’m really gonna miss this place. It’s like our little love nest.” You pout at him.

“Any place we live will be our love nest, babe, don’t worry.”

“So, now that you have a graduate degree you’re not gonna drop me for someone else?” You joke and he rolls his eyes.

“I should be worried about you doing that. Bet you’ll meet a nice guy at whatever school you’re working at and he’ll try to sweep you off your feet.”

“I don’t quite think so. I’ll probably end up gushing about my boyfriend too much.”

“Shame, if only there was something you could wear so everyone would automatically know you were taken.” He gets up from his seat as you continue to scroll on your laptop.

“Mhm, yeah, if only.”

“Y/N, turn the fuck around, would you?”

You huff and does he says. Your eyes widen when you see him down on one need with a velvet box in his hand.

“Are you serious?” Your eyes start to water.

“Been together nearly two years, known you for nearly seven. You’re my person, Y/N, I don’t wanna be with anyone else.”

“I…I don’t wanna be with anyone else either, Harry.”

“Alright, so…” He opens up the box and you smile at the cutest little ring.

“Once, uh, once I’ve been working a real job for a few years, and we have a wedding paid for, you know if you say yes, we can go to a jewelry store and gets a large diamond, you know, if you want.”

“Oh, Harry…it’s perfect.” You giggle and stick your left hand out.

“You’re really saying yes?!”

“Yes, you idiot, slide it on!”

He beams at you and slides the ring onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit. He stands up and pulls you into his arms. You kiss him over and over. You couldn’t believe it. You start laughing into his chest hysterically.

“What’s so funny, hm?”

“Nothing, it’s just…after we graduated from undergrad…Jenna had asked me to split a flat with her, and I had been mulling it over until you asked me to live with you, and…and if I had said yes to her and not you, I…well…who knows what we’d be right now.”

“Funny how things just work out the way they’re supposed to, huh?”

“Yeah, hilarious.” You throw your arms around his neck to hug him again. Harry was full of surprises, but this had to be the best one yet.

a/n: if you’re able, please consider buying me a coffee, love you all lots, thank you!! 

[songbirdstyles]

sparks

summary: you’re a music journalist assigned to covering one of harry styles’ gigs, and he’s absolutely smitten with you. (part one.)

warnings: slight fluff, excessive liberties taken about music journalism; smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters

word count: 8.2k

inspo.: almost famous - cameron crowe; sparks - the who; hello, i love you - the doors

You’d never truly gotten a big assignment before - sure, you’d gotten a few pieces here and there detailing local LA bands that you knew would never live to see more than 100,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, and they mostly ended up buried by your higher-ranking coworker’s higher end stories on the front covers - and, for the most part, you’d honestly been fine with it. You’re fresh out of college, the newest recruit to your company and your colleagues who are sent out to tour with big bands and artists have been here for years, some even decades, and you suppose they deserve the opportunities more than you, don’t they?

You work your way up, your boss had told you the first day you’d started working, following him around like an eager puppy as he showed you the office. Eventually - if I’m impressed with you - you’ll get something big.

It’s enough for you. Small bands playing in hole-in-the-wall clubs and restaurants may not be the exact thing you’d envisioned when you’d set your sights on being a music journalist but it’s worked out well for you so far, hasn’t it? You’ve made friends - even dated the lead singer of an underground rock band who cheated on you hardly two weeks into the relationship - and your portfolio is slowly building, stacked with exposés and detailed recounts of small gigs that you’d watched from backstage. Eventually, you’ll leave this company and move on to something bigger, like Rolling Stone, and your career will take off until you’re practically the face of music journalism.

And, really, those dreams have carried you through college and the first year of your career, putting your all into every article and every piece just so your boss can tug you into his office one day with a rarely-seen grin to finally tell you -

“I want you to write an article on Harry Styles.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in the cushy office seat that your boss has for guests in his office. It’s a facade that you’ve learned to acknowledge, because, no matter how much he makes it look like he appreciates guests in his office, you know he regards you as nothing more than an interloper, even if he’d invited you there to begin with. “Harry Styles?”

“You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?” Mike asks, light shining off his bald head, and your mouth opens and closes a few times uselessly. 

“Of course I have!” You push yourself to sit up straighter in your seat, staring up at your boss with shock written in every feature of your face. You, writing about Harry Styles? God, you nearly want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming. “Write an article about - about what?”

Mike scoffs in that pretentious way that makes you hate ever having to talk to him, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “He’s coming to do a few shows along the West Coast. You can go to one or two - talk to him a bit, talk to his band - you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“With small bands, sure - Tacocat and - and the Mystery Lights -” You swallow thickly, and Mike stares down at you in your seat like he’s unimpressed with your enthusiasm, or lack thereof. And it’s not that you aren’t executed - but, Christ. Going from bands performing in underground clubs to Harry Styles is like going straight from crawling to flying a fucking plane and you’re not sure if any of your experience with the musical locality in LA could prepare you for that. “I mean, that’s huge, Mike.”

“It is huge,” Mike confirms, crossing his thick arms over his chest, leaning against the desk before you as though he’s immune to sitting in his seat behind his desk like a normal boss. “Do you not want to do it? Because Melissa, you know - she’d love to, was going on and on about it last week -”

“No!” Your cheeks flush at the volume your voice raises to, and if you didn’t know better you could swear you see the ghost of a grin on Mike’s face. “I want to, Mike, I really want to - it’s just crazy.” There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, your boss nodding smugly down at you as you struggle for words, before you ask the question burning the tip of your tongue with its desire to be heard. “But - why me? I’m sure you have people more qualified for it -”

“Easy,” Mike says, cutting you off and you’d be annoyed in any other instance but you’re too desperate to hear his answer. “Look, Harry’s a young guy. Younger than anyone else our people have interviewed - I think he’ll respond more to a young, pretty girl like yourself than someone older than him.”

Well, that makes sense, you suppose. The only coworker even close to you in age is Melissa, and she’s pushing 30 as it is. You’re 23 - graduated college just over a year ago, and by far the newest recruit this company has taken in years - but you had always imagined that was the main reason you wouldn’t get many big articles, and here it’s the main factor in you getting what will surely be the highlight of your portfolio once you apply to Rolling Stone. An interview with Harry Styles - God, they’ll probably foam at the mouth when they see it, and a grin spreads across your face as you think of it.

“Is that a yes?” Mike questions, blonde eyebrows raised high and nearly disappearing into his scalp. 

“Of course,” you respond without another moment of hesitation, and you push yourself to stand, office chair rolling behind you with the force, and it hits the wall behind you with a soft thump. “Yes - of course - of course.”

“Great.” And he crosses to the other side of his desk, pushing aside a few loose papers and folders on his desk, and you clutch your hands in front of your stomach as you watch him, practically bouncing up and down with uncontained joy and fear bubbling inside of you. The last time you’d felt like this was the first time you got a real assignment - more than just ranking songs and discussing new album releases - and you’d been sent to a strip club to cover a gig from an up-and-coming band. Back then, you’d never expected to ever feel more excited over anything in your life, and yet, here you are, eight months later, fighting back the urge to burst into joyful tears. “They come in a week - I’ll send you the address - if you need help with your questions -”

“I’ll ask Francine,” you finish the same advice he gives you every time you’re assigned an article, referring to your oldest coworker - a little old woman who’s been with the company since the 70s. She’s always been more than willing to help you with your assignments but this - you need to do this by yourself. “Thank you so much, Mike, this is - this is great.”

“Don’t let me down,” he says, pointing his finger at you, and you nod furiously. “I’m trusting you on this - it’s a big opportunity.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” you promise, holding up your crossed fingers just to show him how much you mean it, and you know it’s the truth - you’ll make this piece the best damn one this company has ever seen if it’s the last thing you ever do. 

 ~~

 The night begins a bit - rocky, to say the least.

For one, you couldn’t decide what to wear, even after spending nearly a half hour trying on every variation of clothes in your closet and tossing them onto the floor of your studio apartment when they didn’t satisfy your needs. In the past you’d worn to gigs what you’d wear if you were a simple concertgoer, albeit a bit more modestly, but you can’t decide what you would wear to a Harry Styles concert if you got the regular chance to - and you’d never even dreamt that it would happen in the first place -

Well, you peruse your closet intently and land on a pair of patterned flare pants and a long sleeve sweater. It only seems fitting for the chilly weather outside, and you fold a shirt into your bag in case you need to change if it gets hot backstage. You’re not dressed to impress, necessarily - you’re dressed to get a job done, as Mike would always say, but how could you be expected to not attempt to impress Harry Styles? It’s a preposterous idea. You’re sure anyone would understand.

Journalism pass - phone - keys - deodorant - when you’ve checked your bag over three times to ensure you have everything necessary you finally leave, locking your door shut behind you and ordering an Uber to take you to the concert.

You hadn’t anticipated Uber and Lyft being absolutely overloaded with patrons due to the concert just a half hour away and you need to be there by 6:30 at the very latest to ensure you get in and can at least talk to Harry before he goes on - a quarter of your questions are geared towards how he feels pre show and you can’t get pre show questions after the show - that’s barbaric. But the minutes inch closer to 5:30 and your Uber driver is still ten minutes away and your heart beats so fast against your chest you think you might vomit right into the street in front of your building -

You’re in the car by 5:45. It’s not ideal, and you know you’re cutting it close, but hopefully you’ll be there before the soundcheck ends. It’s always an ideal time to take photos, watching the band warm up and check mics, and with a piece like this, you need all the opportunities for pictures you can get.

And traffic is horrible - you suppose that’s also to be expected, and your Uber driver curses in a language you can’t recognize as cars cut him off on the highway and if you were a different person, you’d recommend a shortcut he takes, but he doesn’t look like he wants to hear a single word come from your mouth. He had given you a dirty look when you entered the car, and that’s enough to make you shut up and pray for the entire car ride that you make it on time.

6:27. Mike would piss himself if he knew how close you cut it, and you hop out of the car with a speed you didn’t even know you could muster, pushing past the buzzing crowd standing in front of the main entrance. The hoard of people seems to have a steady heartbeat, pulsing with excitement much like your own, and you can’t help but smile as you make your way around the group, goosebumps cropping up over your skin as your teeth chatter in the coldness. For a moment you fear that the directions to the backstage entrance that Mike had given you were total bullshit - but then you see the door, blocked by a burly security guard that glowers at you as you walk up to him like you’re something sticky beneath his shoe.

“Hi!” you call, breath exploding in a white cloud in front of you in the cool night air. The security guard smells so strongly of booze that you need to try harder than you’d care to admit not to scrunch your nose - you cough softly. “Let me - um - find my pass - I’m with Autoamerican, the magazine?”

Fingers grab onto your journalism pass, deep within your bag, and you tug it out, flashing it to the security guard with a slightly nervous grin. All of the gigs you’d been to before hadn’t even had backstage doors - to get backstage, you just had to climb onto the stage and walk behind the wings - but this is a fucking stadium, not just a measly club, and a big one, at that. In your youth you’re sure you could recall your dad watching a football game that occurred in this very stadium - funny how life turns out, sometimes.

“Autoamerican?” the security guard questions, bringing his face closer to your badge as the wafting smell of alcohol increases, and he raises his eyebrows with a scoff. “Never heard of it.”

“Oh.” you pause, feeling your teeth beginning to chatter in the cool February air. You’re not quite sure what to say - you’d assumed Mike had called to arrange the entire thing, hadn’t he? And this is the time you’re supposed to be here - “well, we’re not as big as Rolling Stone magazine, but - we’ve done interviews with The Cure, The Smiths - even Zeppelin, at one point -”

Your voice trails off into silence. He doesn’t care. He’s looking at you like you’re some innocent teenage girl, trying to bribe your way backstage so you can bombard the artist and not a fully grown woman here on business, goddammit. And you’re not sure what to say - he doesn’t believe you, clearly, and you hadn’t anticipated that even as you listed all the ways tonight could go wrong.

“Look, kid,” he begins, and that really has your blood boiling, eyes narrowing to glare at him. “We get this all the time. I’m a journalist - I’m with the crew - it’s a bunch of bullshit. Now go to the front with your general admission tickets like the rest of them -”

“I have a pass - I’m a journalist!”

“Sure -”

“I can call my boss if you want proof!”

And before you can reach into your bag to search relentlessly for your phone to follow through on the promise like you intend to, the door the man is guarding suddenly swings open, nearly hitting the guard in the ass as it opens out. You take a step back as dim light from inside floods the darkness, and a man steps out of the doorway, his eyes darting between you and the security guard.

“Are you with Autoamerican?” the man questions, raising his finger to point at you as though he could be speaking to anyone else. You nod furiously, and you hold up your journalism pass again just to prove it. “You can come inside, then - c’mon, Steve, she’s got a pass, for God’s sake -”

And you can’t resist flashing the guard a smug smile as he steps to the side to let you inside, rolling his eyes so far back into his head that all you can see is a strip of white.

The man lets you inside and the door shuts behind you, and you nearly knock straight into a second security guard standing by the door inside, as though trying to stop people from going out. And, well - you’ve been backstage at more concerts than you could count but this is certainly bigger, better, bustling with people carrying equipment and makeup artists and more people you couldn’t possibly identify. You’re half inclined to reach into your bag and grab your notebook to jot down exactly what you’re seeing so you can make sure to include it in the article, but you have a distinct feeling you’ll never forget it.

“I’m Jeff,” the man tells you, already setting off through the people, and you’re quick to follow, trying to maintain your pace beside him. After a second of walking in silence you realize he’s waiting for you to say yours - you clear your throat and introduce yourself, and he sends you a smile. “The band just finished their soundcheck, if you’d like to have a word with them before they go on - what’s the article about, anyway?”

Jeff shoulders the two of you through lingering groups of people until you emerge into a small hallway lined with doors, and you can hear bustling noise coming from the one closest to you - holy shit, is that Harry? 

“Um - just about the shows, the tour, how everything’s going. My boss basically told me to do what I want with it, so I’ll have a better idea once I speak to the band.” It’s the loosest instruction you’ve ever been given for a piece - you’d expected a clear cut outline - but perhaps with an artist this big, Mike trusts you to know what to write. “It likely won’t be anything too personal, but I’d love to get a chance to speak with Harry before and after.”

“Sounds great,” and you can tell he’s stressed - you wonder if he’s always anxious before his client’s shows, or if there’s something special about tonight that has him worried - and then he reaches past you, twisting the doorknob closest to you and holding the door open for you to enter before him, and you give him a gracious smile before walking in.

The room isn’t as crowded with people as you’d expected but they’re bustling with energy - a woman and a man, holding a guitar, lean against the wall with each other - two other women sip water bottles, laughing loudly amongst each other - another woman leans above someone, their body hidden from view except for their legs, covered in silk, floral printed pants -

Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff shuts the door behind you both, and the sound of the door clicking shut draws far more attention to yourself than you’d expected - it seems like every pair of eyes lands on you and Jeff, and you’d decided on being a music journalist to keep away from being the center of attention. You’ve always preferred being behind the scenes, a bit, at least until your career progresses until you’re a household name for music journalism, and now -

You feel very much in the scenes, eyes on you as Rhiannon plays in the background.

And then Jeff is tapping you on your shoulder, leading you around the room to the small groups of people lingering - you shake hands with Mitch and Sarah, the couple against the wall, and the rest of his band, and they’re so nice your smile feels like it’s going to break your face in half. You’ll need to interview them at some point - nothing too intense, and you may not even need to, if Harry’s answers are satisfactory enough - and you can already feel yourself building a strange sort of rapport with the band, their kindness rubbing off on you until you practically glide beside Jeff to the woman bent over Mr. Floral Pants, whose identity you’re fairly certain you’ve already deduced.

It doesn’t make it any more surprising when the woman steps aside where she’s carefully applying powder to the man’s face, and then Harry fucking Styles is staring up at her with a smile and an outstretched hand, suit jacket matching the floral pattern of his pants. His curls are carefully slicked back from his face, skin matte with the powder the woman resumes applying to the side of his face that isn’t turned to you, and you swallow your shock before reaching to shake his hand, Rhiannon turning into Hello, I Love You, playing from a source you can’t identify.

“Nice t’meet you,” Harry says when you’ve told him your name and the magazine you work for - Jeff had already mentioned it, but it is customary to repeat it to whomever you may have to interview. “Y’know, I love Autoamerican - told Jeff, s’the only magazine I’d let interview me backstage. Don’t usually allow it.”

“Really?” your stomach flips as Harry stops bouncing his arm, but it takes just another half second for him to untwine his hand from yours - you’re sure it’s because the makeup artist fretting above him is using her thumb to wipe off powder from his nose, but it still makes your heart thump faster against your chest. “I assumed most people haven’t heard of it - it’s nowhere near Rolling Stone.”

“I love it,” he insists, dropping your hand, and he looks so casual, as if this interaction isn’t blowing up your entire life, and you’re brought back to the many moments you’d spent as a teenager fawning over him in his One Direction days - God, this feels like a dream, and you’re half inclined to pinch yourself in case it is. Maybe you’ll wake up in Mike’s office to him giving you another shitty underground LA band to interview. “The interview with Sublime s’great - read it all the time.”

You swallow thickly, grin spreading wider across your face, and before you can open your mouth to tell him about Francine’s go-to story about how Eric Wilson had flirted with her while she interviewed them for the story, Jeff interjects - “Steve hadn’t even heard of it.”

“Steve’s an idiot,” Harry starts, and you giggle - his lips lilt upwards just a bit. “Hope he wasn’t hasslin’ you ‘bout it.”

“Just a little,” you say, hoisting your bag further up your shoulder just as the makeup artist drops the powder back into the apron slung around her waist, and her manicured nails tilt Harry’s head around for a moment before she seemingly deems his makeup satisfactory before leaving, sending you a tight lipped smile as she goes. “I’d love to ask you a few questions before the show - nothing too heavy - and then I’ll observe the concert and how everything goes, ask a few questions after.”

“Sounds great,” Harry responds, lifting his fist with his thumb up and you didn’t think your heartbeat could grow any faster or louder but you suppose today is just proving you wrong time and time again. “D’you need t’record m’answers? S’a bit loud in here.”

The truth is, you’re sure you’ll have this entire experience engraved in your brain for years to come - you’ll remember every word he utters for you until your dying days - but it is more practical to have a recording. You swing your bag off your arm and open it, digging through the jumbled mess of items inside until you find your phone, and you hold it up with a nod. “Yeah - there isn’t anywhere a bit quieter, is there?”

It takes a minute of bustling - Jeff tells you two instructions to go down the hall into another room where you may find more silence - and Harry promises, accent thick and eyes rolling, to be back in twenty minutes or less, if tha’s enough time for you, ma’am, and you try to trick yourself into thinking the burn flushing up your cheeks is due to the heat of the room.

Down the hall is another door that Harry opens for you, letting you walk in first. It’s a small room, clearly meant for storage, and he shuts the door behind the pair of you. There’s - luckily, or perhaps unluckily - just enough room for you two have at least a few feet between you, and he leans against the wall with an air of casual elegance you couldn’t hope to achieve as you scroll through your phone to search for the voice recorder app.

“Hope this s’good enough - is it?” Harry inquires, leaning his head closer to yours, and you nod. “Good - wish there was a nicer spot for you, but -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you interject, smiling up at him, and he grins back, and your stomach churns violently. You almost feel like you could vomit - when he goes on, you’ll go and have a bit to eat at the table set up with foods that Jeff had wheeled you past when you arrived. Eating seems to solve more of your nerves than you’d care to admit, and you feel like you’re nearly 95% nerves right now. Your fingers fiddle with the voice recorder app, adding a title to the recording while entirely too focused on the sounds of Harry’s breathing above you, and you can practically fear his eyes boring into your face before you press record. 

And, for the most part, it does go smoothly. Harry introduces himself with an ease that only comes with years of practice, so much time spent being interviewed that it must feel like as much of a second nature to him as interviewing is to you. He’s charming and charismatic - flirtatious, even - making jokes and adding lines that you make a mental note to be sure to include in your final piece - whatever direction you go - and you can’t say you’re bothered by the way he leans closer to the phone, and thus closer to you, in order for his voice to be heard more on the recording when occasional noise bustles in from outside.

You don’t need to look at the questions you’d spent weeks laboring over - every question you inquire derives directly from his answers like he’s practically feeding them to you, and then you’re interviewing him so naturally, you could nearly fool yourself into thinking it’s an organic conversation between friends. 

What’s his process to prepare for shows? Well, listening to Fleetwood Mac and eating finger foods, of course - he loves mozzarella sticks. Does Fleetwood Mac make you less nervous for shows? No, he doesn’t get too anxious before shows, now that he’s out of the band. He just loves Fleetwood Mac - he could listen to them at any time of the day. What do you think makes your solo career less anxiety-inducing than being in the band? Different fans let him be himself more. There’s less pressure to be someone he isn’t - do you think he could’ve worn a floral printed suit at a One Direction concert?

And, in the end, twenty minutes hardly feels like it, and by the time Harry tilts his head over the screen of your phone to check the time, you could nearly convince yourself that you’d merely spent a minute with the heartthrob, and it pains you to stop the recording.

“How’d I do?” he questions, cheeky smile indenting the dimple in his cheek, and you feel like you need to dip your face in ice once he goes on stage - your face hasn’t felt anything less than piping hot since the first moment he rested eyes on you, and his kind-bordering-on-flirtatious nature only makes your skin heat more under his gaze.

It isn’t as though you’d have it any other way, though.

“Perfect,” and you send him a smile. “I’ll watch the show - probably eat a bit, too, if I’m being honest - and maybe ask you a few questions. How many shows are you doing in LA?”

Harry reaches past you, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door for you once more, and you slip out with a small smile as he follows, face twisted in what’s clearly a show of being in deep thought. “Four. An’ a few more on the West Coast ‘fore we move out - reckon you’ll need t’come t’a few more?”

“Depends.” He looks at you curiously as the two of you make your way back to the room you’d been in before, and when you enter, it’s clearly in a more prominent state of preparation for the show - there’s more bustle and movement between every band member and Jeff, who looks entirely relieved to see you two come in as She’s a Rainbow thumps softly, volume clearly turned down on whatever produces the music. “If I feel like I’ve got enough material from this show, then that’ll be it - I usually just do reviews of specific gigs, and this is a lot broader - so I really don’t know.”

Harry nods, and you feel a flutter in your heart at how intently he seems to be listening to you, like he really cares, and you’re sure it’s a facade - he probably has a million other things on his mind as Jeff descends upon the both of you, whisking him away as he calls goodbye! to you - but still. When was the last time you’d felt listened to? By Mike, or by the security guard outside, or even from your own parents when you try to convince them over and over that you have a plan, that your degree wasn’t a waste of time when you could’ve been a doctor -

Well, Harry’s a gentleman, you decide, sliding your phone into the back pocket of your flares as you reach in your bag for your notepad. You can tell they’re preparing to go on soon and so you descend against the wall, grabbing your pen from deep inside the confines of your bag to scribble the essential notes of what you’ll need - it’ll make it easier when it’s time to write, rather than listening to the entire 20 minute interview again to try and find the important sections to include.

His responses to your question still burn fresh in your mind, and you began scribbling your bullet points on the small notepad in your hands. It’s decently easy to block out the chatter of the room you’re in along with its music, volume turned down further until it’s hardly audible, and it really is a skill you’ve mastered, though you suppose you’ve had to - trying to take notes for articles about gigs occurring in buildings so small that their noise reverberates off of every surface has made you a master in tuning out noise surrounding you.

You are aware, and acutely, at that, when the band starts exiting through the door beside you. They don’t look nervous, returning your encouraging smiles with ones of their own, and you watch them pour out the door with confidence practically radiating off of them. Well, that’s something to mention, isn’t it? Most of the bands you’d interviewed were practically vomiting with nerves -

Harry takes up the rear, fingers running through his slicked back hair, and you can’t tell if it’s a nervous habit or if he’s simply trying to let his curls fall in front of his eyes more. Jeff walks in front of him, giving you a smile as he leaves, and the singer stops beside you.

Your breath just about catches in your throat as you look up at him, and he’s staring down at you with a decidedly ambiguous look in his eyes, and you smile at him. “Good luck out there.”

“You’re gonna come and watch?”

You nod. “Eventually - I’m gonna eat something first, finish my notes. Maybe give myself a tour of the backstage in case I decide to include it.”

“Sounds good t’me,” Harry says, but he doesn’t make a motion to leave, and then his eyes roll down your body and is he fucking checking you out? Because - no - that’s crazy. That would cement into your brain the knowledge that this is a dream, and not reality, because there’s no fucking way Harry Styles is checking you out, eyes roaming from your eyes to your stomach to your - “I like your pants. Where’d you get ‘em?”

Ah. Of course. Fashion icon, he is, inquiring about the pants you’d chosen specifically because they looked like something he may like. “These?” You glance down as though you’d forgotten what pants you’d donned, as though you hadn’t spent hours in front of your closet envisioning what outfit you could wear to impress him. “I think they’re from Zara. Got them a couple years back.”

“They’re pretty.”

“Why, thank you -”

“Harry!”

Jeff’s voice calling from outside the room snaps you both out of your conversation, a slightly embarrassed grin spreading across Harry’s face that you’re sure is mirroring your own. His cheeks are tinged pink and he clears his throat.

“Sorry - gotta go - make sure y’try the mozzarella sticks, ‘kay? They’re good,” Harry tells you, and you grin, drumming the pen clutched between your fingers against the notepad in your hands.

“Will do,” you reply, and then you lift your hand and point to the door, raising your eyebrows with a smile. “Go break a leg - and then be ready to talk about it when you’re done!”

He doesn’t say anything else - just gives you a thumbs up and slips out the door, and you can hear his frenzied apologies to Jeff as their voices fade away, surely preparing to get on stage and sing his heart out and blow the fucking stadium away, but you can hardly focus on it. Because - God, you really don’t want to sound like a narcissist - but he was joking around with you, complimented your pants, and he did technically check you out, even if it was just to see your pants. 

Was he flirting with you?

Surely not. No, that would be absurd. He’s probably just bored - maybe entertaining random people backstage is his way of dealing with his nerves.

That makes a bit more sense.

When you glance back down at your notepad, the page half filled with scribbled bullet points of things you’d sworn to remember, and when you click your pen open to continue your list, you find that you can’t quite think of anything else to write. All you can think about is the mozzarella sticks waiting for you, and then standing in the wings to watch him sing his heart out to a crowd of adoring fans that you, at one point, would have killed to be apart of -

You shove your pen and pad back into your bag with a determined spin of your heels. Food first - contemplation second.

 ~~~

 The show is - needless to say - amazing.

You’d feasted on slightly-cold mozzarella sticks that were, even in their lowered temperatures, immensely good, and clearly garnered all the affection Harry had for them. The food table was nearly completely empty, crew members repeatedly coming up to fill plates with vegetables and snacks, and so you simply gathered the last three sticks of celery once you were done with your sticks before taking a leisurely stroll along the backstage area. Celery firm between your teeth, you pulled out your notepad and your pen once more and jotted notes of what you could possibly include in the article to jog your memory later -

It takes a while, admittedly. You don’t want to leave anything out, and eventually you have two pages filled with notes in your handwriting that would surely be illegible to anyone else who happened upon them - and, sure, your pages are small, but still. Two pages is a lot, and you’re sure most of it won’t even make it into the article but you don’t want to risk forgetting any important information.

A trip to the bathroom - perusing the food table again to pick up the last few carrot sticks - and the show is nearly halfway over, so you decide it may be time to slip into the wings and watch. Take notes, possibly, but mainly just listen and absorb the music and the atmosphere and exactly how the fans react to his every move. That’s what the people want to know, isn’t it? It’s what you would want to know - so you slip past the lingering groups of people into the wings of the stage, where you get a clear view of Harry and his band, singing his heart out to a tune you know to be Kiwi.

It’s ear splitting, truly, in a way that none of the other gigs you’d witnessed had been. But it sounds good - better than good - and he’s as charismatic on stage as he is off,  waggling his eyebrows during the more suggestive lines and undoing the button of his suit jacket, and the latter garners a deafening scream from the adoring fans in the crowd. 

No, you won’t need to take notes, at least not yet. You’ll remember this forever, won’t you? Watching him work the crowd like he was born to do it, like it’s a second nature and you’re sure it is, at this point. It’s all you can do to stand there, watching him, and you’re sure you look no different from the other fans in the crowd, your eyes wide and lips parted in absolute awe of him -

His head turns to the side, briefly, as if he can sense your eyes on him above anyone else’s. In reality you’re sure he’d simply turned his head to flick a sweaty curl out of his face but it’s never a bad thing to dream right? And your gaze locks for just a moment, his eyebrows raising when he sees your face, and heat burns at your cheeks before his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his right eye shuts in a quick wink before he’s turning back to the crowd as if his attention had never left them.

Shit. You nearly drop your damn carrot. God, he’s a fucking tease, and you’re not even sure he knows it - that this experience will never leave your brain for as long as you walk this Earth, watching him wink as he stared into the depths of your fucking soul, clad in a gorgeous suit with his gorgeous hair and -

Harry truly is a sight to behold, and you’re more than content to watch him forever.

Forever ends up being another half hour or so before you’re made entirely too aware of the fact that you have to pee - not insanely bad, but enough to make you shift uncomfortably from side to side before sighing, turning and making your way further backstage in your search for the bathroom. In your determined tour of the backstage you’d forgotten to search for the restroom, and you wander about for nearly five whole minutes before getting to it -

You do your business. There’s not much more explanation needed.

It’s when your washing your hands, though, water freezing cold against your palms, that you become slightly aware of a myriad of noises occurring outside the restroom. At first you choose not to focus on it, shoving your hands beneath the air dryer to ease your soaking, cold hands, and the noise of violent air assaulting your palms drowns out the scuffling sounds from outside.

When the dryer turns off, and you reach down to wipe your damp hands on your pants, the noises haven’t stopped. And, sure, no one could expect it to be completely silent backstage, but whatever you’re hearing isn’t the normal laughter and chatter and muffled music that you’re used to hearing -

It sounds like someone is fighting, and your hand freezes in its place on the cool metal doorknob. You lean forward, scrunching your nose as you plainly try harder to hear what’s happening -

But, Hell. You have a job to do - you need to get back to the wings to watch the remaining few minutes of the set before Harry leaves and, subsequently, returns for the encore, and you’d intended to write with detail about his closing repetition of Kiwi. So you grab the doorknob, swing the door open and step out, and freeze nearly immediately once you’ve exited.

There is a fight - not as violent as you’d expected - as the security guard from inside scuffles with Steve, who looks positively wasted in a way you’ve come to know all too well, doing gigs in LA. His face shines with a sheen layer of sweat, skin glowing in the artificial light, and his fists move slowly to pummel into the other security guard’s back. It’s, truthfully, a bit pathetic to watch - he isn’t putting up much of a fight against the guard trying to hold him, and your mouth parts with poorly-concealed confusion at the display in front of you.

You’re not sure what to say - or do - or think - standing in the doorway of the bathroom as you watch the poor excuse of a fight, Steve nearly toppling to the ground as the other guard tries to contain him.

“Come on, Steve - don’t be like this -”

Then the other security guard looks up and sees you, and the expression on his face nearly makes you burst into laughter, but you contain it with a bit more difficulty than you’d like to admit. He looks annoyed, like he’s absolutely done with his coworker, and also slightly embarrassed. Clearly, he’d dragged Steve into the hallway containing the bathrooms with the hopes of nobody seeing either of them, and you’ve interrupted his bid for privacy desperately. “Sorry, ma’am,” the guard says, grabbing one of Steve’s flailing fists in his hands. “Don’t mind us - he’s drunk - just trying to contain him.”

You’re doing a damn good job, you want to say, but you bite back the retort with a small nod and a whisper of a smile on your face, walking with your back to the wall past their display in the hopes of Steve not seeing you. He hadn’t been particularly nice to you when you’d first seen him and you can tell he’s in a much more heightened state, now - he’d been drunk when you’d seen him before and you can tell it’s only gotten worse.

Maybe you should’ve told Jeff the guard was drunk?

Well, it’s counterproductive to dwell on the past.

You’re not so lucky, though - you’ve barely made it down five steps down the hallway before Steve lifts his head, pupils blown and skin even stickier looking than before, and he gives you the same disgusted look as though you’re something his dog had left on the grass. “Hey - hey - Jim - do you know who that is?”

And the other security guard - Jim - just rolls his eyes. “No, Steve, I don’t - stop making a fool out of yourself.”

“She works at - at - Eat to the Beat - Parallel Lines - what is it?”

Do you answer him? You don’t quite know. You just swallow thickly, forcing yourself not to don the smile that’s urging its way onto your lips as you hear roaring screams from the crowd that alerts you to the fact that, if Harry isn’t done with his set yet, he’s close, and you need to watch the end. “Autoamerican. Those are all good albums, though.”

“She’s snarky - get off of me, Jim -”

In Steve’s final bid for freedom his legs kick out, and his sneakered foot knocks into your ankle, and it’s certainly not hard by any stretch of the definition but it’s enough to catch you off balance, his toe hooking into the loose fabric around your ankles as he brings his foot back to kick again. One kick did it, though - you tumble to the ground, legs flying out from under you until you land on your ass on the hard floor, your bag slipping off your shoulder, and its contents scatter across the ground.

Fuck. That hurt, more than you’d care to admit, as you brace your elbows behind you to stop your head from knocking into the ground. Your ass hurts and you can see Steve’s leg bracing backwards for another kick, and you push yourself backwards so his foot merely pushes against the air.

You can already see Jim opening his mouth to desperately say sorry when a set of footsteps interrupts his apology - you don’t have to look to your side to see who it is, the smell of expensive cologne wafting before him like an introduction. You practically feel him before you see him.

Your name falls off Harry’s lips entirely too easily, like he’d been looking for you in the overtly small window of space he has before he has to go back on stage - his hair is messy and his skin is sweaty and he bends down next to you with such sentimentality in his eyes - you almost feel like a child again.

“Are y’okay?” Harry questions, and his hand rests on the small of your back and warmth seems to seep through your body from its spawning point, palm moving in circles against your sweater so gently you can tell he’s scared to go much harder. “Wha’ -?”

For his eyes had just landed on the sight in front of you - Jim managed to pull Steve up, the latter clearly coming to his senses at least a little bit, and his eyes narrow at the sight of you on the floor and subsequently widen as he sees Harry next to you.

“Wha’ happened?” And you can hear anger quivering under his voice like boiling water, ready to overflow, and you instinctively reach up to press your hand against his forearm - you do it to your niece all the time when you can tell she’s on the verge of a tantrum and it always works on her - but she is five, and Harry’s twenty years her senior, so, needless to say, the motion doesn’t do much to soothe him. “Fightin’ back here, kickin’ her - you’re s’posed t’be security guards!”

“It’s okay, Harry -”

“S’not okay -”

And then there’s another set of footsteps jogging over to you, and you look up to see Jeff -

“Har, you need to get back out -” but you can see the confusion set into his features as he stands over the scene, eyes flickering to you and Harry on the floor to Jim and Steve, the former having settled the latter into a fairly calm position. The scent of alcohol is strong and you can practically watch as Jeff smells it, his nose crinkling. “Is he drunk?”

“He is drunk, an’ got into a fight wit’ -”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, squeezing Harry’s arm again as you push yourself to stand, attempting not to wince at the pain in your ass as your muscles tense. He’s looking at you like you’ve just been hit by a car instead of having a mild scuffle with a security guard, eyes wide and concerned, and you shake your head at him. “Didn’t get into a fight, Harry - he accidentally kicked me. It’s really fine - you need to go back out, anyway.”

“She’s right,” Jeff insists, reaching down to tug Harry up as his eyes bore into the sight in front of you, Steve slowly calming himself down until he’s simply red in the face and reeking of booze. “Come on, Har - you need to get on.”

But Harry’s already bending down again, grabbing your pen and your notebook and your phone (you can see a crack in the screen that most certainly hadn’t been there just a mere ten minutes ago) and you could nearly laugh at the display he’s putting on, shoving your items back into your back, if Jeff’s demeanor wasn’t bordering on murderous as he drags Harry up again. You reach down and grab your bag, now fully stocked again with all of the items that had clattered out, and you give the tussling security guards one final fleeting look before following Jeff and Harry as they make their way down the hall.

“Y’sure you’re okay?” Harry questions, slowing his pace so you can jog beside him, much to Jeff’s lingering annoyance as he brings his fingers up to rub at the space between his eyes. “Y’should know - tha’ doesn’t usually happen -”

“I get it,” you tell him.

“No, really.” You’ve reached the wings of the stage, and Jeff leaves the pair of you alone to descend on to where the band stands, clearly waiting for the cue to go on. Harry runs a hand through his hair, and he looks oddly exasperated and you wish you could get it through his head that it really isn’t a big deal - “Someone will take care of the guards, okay?”

“Don’t fire them,” you insist, even though you’re sure he has no say in it. “Not Jim, at least.”

“Jim -?”

“The sober one.”

“Oh.” He pauses, dropping his hands to his sides. “I can’t make any promises.”

“Just try.”

“Will do.”

There’s another brief second of silence before you nod towards the stage where he’s needed - the few lowly minutes between the end of the show and the encore has come to an end, and you’re sure people are beginning to wonder if he’s not coming back. “Go on, Har. There’s people waiting for you.”

“M’going!” And he isn’t going, just staring at you with his brows furrowed, and you raise your own with a confused stare. “Are y’gonna come t’any more shows?”

You pause, nibbling on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer. “Well - maybe. If I need more information.” “You should,” he tells you, and you tilt your head to the side. “Look, I don’t want your only impression of m’shows t’be that they’re violent an’ crazy.”

“I don’t think -”

“Jus’ one more? In two days. I’ll send you th’address. I really want you t’come -”

Before you can process the request Jeff has stepped forward, hooking his arm in Harry’s and practically dragging him towards the stage, and you watch him prance back in front of the audience like it’s his God given purpose and perhaps it is. You’ve never quite met anyone like him, you don’t think, and you’d certainly had a perception of what you’d imagined him to be like based on the insane amount of time you’d spent obsessing over his band when you were younger -

Your mouth feels suddenly dry as you watch him begin, and the music seems to reverberate beneath your skin, and suddenly - without having to think about it much at all, really - you know it won’t take much convincing on his part to get you back for a second night.

[ginnyweasleymybeloved]

evermore x hp / masterlist

hp x readers based on the absolute masterpiece that is evermore by the love of my life taylor swift. i’ll be posting these fics once or twice a week and i will update the links once i’ve posted each one <3 really hope you guys enjoy <3

// these aren’t going to be exact line by line songfics, but based around a particular line or verse //

all fic masterlist

[🌸 = fluff, 🍁= angst]

taglist: @padsfirewhisky

[🌸] willow - fred weasley x reader

“life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

they count me out time and time again

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

but I come back stronger than a 90's trend”

summary: hogwarts’ most popular playboy has made it very clear that you, his best friend, are not his type. seeing as you were crushing on him hard, you decide to take matters into your own hands

«»

[🍁] champagne problems - ron weasley x reader

“you had a speech, you’re speechless

love slipped beyond your reaches

and i couldn’t give a reason

champagne problems”

summary: on a cold night in november, your boyfriend, ron, gets sentimental thinking about a future that you’re not sure you deserved

«»

[🌸] gold rush - ginny weasley x reader

“and the coastal town

we wandered ‘round had never

seen a love as pure as it”

summary: revelling in the fact that you have the most amazing girlfriend in the world, while unbeknownst to you, she’s thinking exactly the same thing

«»

[🌸🍁] ‘tis the damn season - cedric diggory x reader

“so we could call it even

you could call me babe for the weekend

‘tis the damn season

write this down

i’m stayin’ at my parent’s house

and the road not taken looks real good now

and it always leads to you in my hometown”

summary: you bump into an old flame and old feelings catch up to you as you find yourself rekindling said flame

«»

[🍁] tolerate it - harry potter x reader

“i made you my temple, my mural, my sky

now i’m begging for footnotes in the story of your

life

drawing hearts in the bylines

always taking up too much space or time

you assume i’m fine, but what would you do if i

break free and leave us in ruins?

took this dagger in me and removed it?

gain the weight of you then lose it

believe me, i could do it”

summary: in the chaos of war, harry pushes the one person he didn’t ever want to lose, to the brink of walking away from him

«»

[🍁] no body, no crime - marauders x reader / peter pettigrew x reader / sirius black x reader

“i think he did it but i just can’t prove it

no, no body no crime

but i ain’t letting up ‘till the day i die”

summary: your best friends, lily and james potter, were betrayed by their secret keeper however you’re sure it couldn’t have been sirius.

«»

[🌸] happiness - remus lupin x reader

“there is happiness

past the blood and bruise

past the curses and cries

beyond the terror of the nightfall

haunted by the look in my eyes

that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

and there is happiness”

summary: after the death of his friends and the betrayal of sirius, remus fears that he has lost the capacity for happiness. until you came along

«»

[🌸] dorothea - hermoine granger x reader

“hey dorothea

do you ever stop and think about me?

when we were younger

down in the park

honey, making a lark of the misery

you got shiny friends since you left town

a tiny screen’s the only place i see you now

and i got nothing but well wishes for ya”

summary: you see your childhood best friend for the first time in nearly a decade, you hold the same love and respect for her now as you did then

«»

[🍁] coney island - george weasley x reader

“the question pounds my head

‘what’s a lifetime of achievement?’

if i pushed you to the edge

but you were too polite to leave me

and do you miss the rogue

who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?

will you forgive my soul

when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to

care?”

summary: business is booming and the joke shop is expanding at a rapid rate, by the time it reaches its peak, geoege wants to bask in his success with the woman he loves, only to realise he’d completely neglected you in favour of pursuing his dreams and he doesn’t know if you’ll forgive him for it

«»

[🍁🌸] ivy - harry potter x reader

“how’s one to know?

i’d live and die for moments that we stole

on begged and borrowed time

so tell me to run

or dare to sit and watch what we’ll become”

summary: he thinks he’ll only ruin you, you think he’s worth the risk

«»

[🍁] cowboy like me - sirius black x reader

“you’re a bandit like me

eyes full of stars

hustling for the good life

never thought i’d meet you here

it could be love

we could be the way forward

and i know i’ll pay for it”

summary: sirius runs into you at a pure-blood party he’d been dragged to, the pair of you find solace in each other and gravitate towards one another from then on, however, noting the similarities between you and him, you deduct that you’ll end up paying dearly when you begin to crave more than secret rendezvous at pure-blood occasions.

«»

[🌸] long story short - george weasley x reader

“and he’s passing by

rare as the glimmer as a comment in the sky

and he feels like home

if the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go”

summary: george weasley is undoubtedly the love of your life, you realise

«»

[🍁] marjorie - remus lupin x lupin!reader

“the autumn chill that wakes me up

you loved the amber skies so much

long limbs and frozen swims

you’d always go past where our feet could

touch

and i complained the whole way there

the car ride back and up the stairs

i should’ve asked you questions

i should’ve asked you how to be

asked you to write it down for me

should’ve kept every grocery store receipt

‘cause every scrap of you would be taken

from me”

summary: your father dies in the battle of hogwarts and you’re left to go through his things

«»

[🍁] closure - fred weasley x reader

“yes, i got your letter

yes, i’m doing better

it cuts deep to know ya, right to the bone

yes, i got your letter

yes, i’m doing better

i know that it’s over, i don’t need your

closure”

summary: you and fred have a messy breakup and after a few months he owls you to see how you’re doing, and it just so happens that you’re doing fine without him

«»

[🌸] evermore - harry potter x reader

“and i was catching my breath

floors of a cabin creaking under my steps

and i couldn’t be sure

i had a feeling so peculiar

this pain wouldn’t be for

evermore”

summary: a soft moment between you and harry as you heal from the war together

«»

[🍁🌸] right where you left me - sirius black x reader

“did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

time went on for everybody else, she won’t

know it

she’s still 23 inside her fantasy

how it was supposed to be

did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

break-ups happen everyday, you don’t have to

lose it

she’s still 23 inside her fantasy

and you’re sitting in front of me”

summary: when sirius is condemned to azkaban you wait, and wait, and wait, right where he left you

«»

[🍁] it’s time to go - george weasley x reader

“that old familiar body ache

the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul

you know when it’s time to go”

summary: transitioning from best friends to lovers isn’t always the best idea, sometimes it’s better to walk away before there’s nothing left to leave

«»

[gxccistyless]

the untitled song

The one where he royally fucks up. Y/n is friends with Harry and has been for a long time, but he hurts her in the worst way possible. TRIGGER WARNINGS: mention of attempted suicide.

When Harry first wrote the song he had never intended for it to see the light of day and he had most certainly never intended to hurt you. Sometimes he finds himself writing songs as a form of therapy and sometimes as a gentle reminder of memories he never wants to let go of, this song was a creation born for both of those reasons. You had been his lifelong friend and had seen each other through all different seasons of life, he had been your friend first and then somewhere along the line he had begun to feel something more toward you, but he had a complicated life and he didn’t want to throw you into the circus of it all, he liked that when he went home he was just Harry to you and not Harry Styles the celebrity. Truthfully somewhere along the way, your feelings toward him had also began to be something more but you were unaware of the way he had felt about you and so you never acted on it

A week after his stepfathers funeral and almost a year to the day since your own mothers’ death you found yourselves in his backyard slightly intoxicated. Harry had a rough time figuring out his emotions and would often turn to writing, it gave him a way to put everything into words. You on the other hand did everything in your power to hide yours. Six drinks in however, you had both been able to open up, Harry sharing his struggles, his fears and his worries and for the first time ever you were sharing yours too.

You had known him before he was anyone to be known, and although his life had become quite the circus, the two of you still remained close.  When you heard the news about his stepfather, he asked if you would come and you were quick to oblige dropping everything to head to be with him for the week. It was your last night there after what had been a long week and Harry had decided they should have a few drinks and just relax and let off some steam. He told you about how in awe of you  he was, how you’d handled your mums death so gracefully and had remained so well put together afterwards, he hoped he’d be able to do the same and be as strong as you had been. Harry’s words eat at you, he grows concerned that his comments had upset you when your head falls toward the ground, you can feel the tears welling in your eyes.

He’s a bit taken back, he was only trying to compliment you, show you how much you inspire him. You wipes the tears that have now begun pooling on your cheeks and then sharw with him something you hadn’t dared talk about to anyone since it happened  I tried to kill myself, Harry. It all went down shortly after your mothers death when everyone who was significant in your life had dispersed out of their small town after the funeral and back to their jobs. Your brother had found you and managed revive you. Between a short stay in the ICU, ten days in a ward and then a stay in the psych ward you had been in the hospital for weeks afterward. Harry shakes his head at your revelation, this couldn’t be true, he would have known. It’s true Harry, I didn’t expect you to know though. You had barely enough time to be here for the funeral I didn’t even see you that day that’s his quick you came and went, and then you were on tour... it’s okay that you didn’t know, I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. Harry didn’t know what to say or how to feel, he just brings you a little closer to him and grips you a little tighter, thankful that you’re still here. Harry was sure that if anything had happened to you that Anne would have told him. At this point you are really intoxicated and Harry is starting to feel the effects of the alcohol heading closer to the point of recklessness. The two of you call it a night.  

You left town the next day to head back to London, you had recently taken a job in the city and were able to afford rent there which finally got you out of this small town and kept you busy, the two of you returned to normal life and never talked about it any further. But still the conversation played on his mind, how you has been in your darkest moment and he hadn’t been there. How he had barely had enough time to be there for his closest friend when her mother had just passed, how he had failed to check up on you in the weeks that followed, how you could have actually died. 

When he finally got back to writing, his conversation with you was one of the first things he wrote about. It was one of the first pieces that he wrote beginning to end, he never intended for it to get further than him and a guitar and a recording on his phone, something he might play to you someday, but then one night whilst he was high he accidentally showed it to his engineer who immediately fell in love with it. His engineer convinced him to just see the song through, told him it wouldn’t have to be in the final cut for the album but that it deserved to be finished properly, so Harry obliged and he finished the song in its entirety.

The album was close to being finished, his label telling him they just needed one or two more songs that were slower in tempo and had more emotion you know like  a tear jerker were Jeff’s exact words. Harry you should show him that untitled one we had been working on at the beginning Harry silently curses his engineer in his mind, he’s reluctant to play the song to Jeff but he does it anyway. Jeff loves the song says that it should be the second single, the public will eat it right up. Once again Harry reluctantly agrees.

He knows that one way or the other you are going to hear this song and you are going to know that it is about you, and specifically about that night when you had shared your darkest secret with him. Harry wanted to be the one to play the song for you, he thought it would be best coming from him in a controlled environment and he most certainly didn’t want you to hear it for the first time at his launch party or on the radio. The week that he intended to drive home to show you, your father suddenly passed, it didn’t seem like a good time and he didn’t want to cause you any more grief than you were already going through. He tried again two weeks later but you had been in such good spirits, he didn’t want to ruin your time together by making you upset. 

The original plan was that he would drive back to his mum’s the day after his listening party and play it for you before it would be released to the public. The listening party was only going to be intimate and was due to be held two days before the release of the album, and since you had to work and wouldn’t be there he didn’t see anything wrong with the plan. Except this is Harry and almost nothing goes to plan. Gemma and Anne who are unaware of the song arranged for you to have a ticket, to surprise Harry on one of his biggest nights. He doesn’t see you till he comes out into the room and it’s already too late they’re already about to press play on the album, he thought he felt nervously sick before but now seeing you here in the room he feels even worse.

Everything was going smoothly and everyone seemed to be enjoying the songs as they continued to go through each of them, Harry introducing them and talking a bit about them before hand, when he gets to track 5 his throat dries up and he feels as if he can’t talk. He doesn’t give this song an introduction just pressing play. The song is halfway through the first verse when you begin to realise this song that you are listening to in a room full of people who don’t know you (minus Anne and Gemma and Harry of course) is about you, is about that night by the fire where things got a little too deep and dark and emotional. You stare at him waiting for him to make eye contact with you, but he never does, he’s too scared to lift his head and have your eyes meet. He knows he will look up to undoubtedly find you crying and that he has let you down and right now he can’t think about it too much, he needs to push through the last eight tracks. You excuse yourself quietly, telling Gemma you aren’t feeling well before the chorus even hits and slip out the back exit.

Harry knows that he has royally fucked up. He tries calling you when he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, it goes straight to voicemail a few times and then after that your number doesn’t even dial at all. He has disappointed you, he’s disappointed himself. When he gets back out and spots his mother and sister the anger and disappointment is all over their faces too. The car ride back to his house is silent, Anne taking in deep breaths so that she won’t scream in front of the lovely driver Harry’s management had hired to get them home. When they finally make it through the door and they are by themselves she absolutely lets him have a piece of her mind. You should have asked her permission before putting out something like that. Harry tries to reason with Anne, explaining he had no choice when he knows deep down that he did, explaining that he tried to show you the song but he couldn’t catch you at the right time. It’s Gemma’s turn to chime in now  There was no right time Harry, should have never been on the album in the first place. Gemma was right, but it was done now the only thing he could do would be to try and salvage things with you as best he could. But you wouldn’t take his calls, didn’t respond to his texts and truthfully he had no idea where to start looking for you.  The following morning when Anne had calmed down some, she had found Harry sleeping on the sofa still in the clothes from last night gripping his phone on his chest, she knows he must have fallen asleep there as he desperately tried all night to get in touch with you. When he woke up he told her everything from beginning to end, he knew that song shouldn’t have been on the album and she knew that there was nothing he could do now to change the fact that it was. 

Whilst you weren’t replying to Harry’s texts or answering his calls you had no intentions of doing the same to Anne. The first time Anne rings you, it goes to voicemail. Anne leaves you a lovely message, tells you she’d love to see you before she leaves London to head back home. Only when you know that it is her calling, you send her a quick text back to explain that you are okay and that you have escaped for the week back home to Holmes Chapel, but would love to see her regardless.  It had been too long since you had last seen Anne. You think it may have been at the funeral, or in the days after, but your weekends have been busy and you hardly make it home. Even when you do make it home, recently your weekends had been filled with looking after your sick father and your brother who even at 24 years old was unable to do anything for himself. Regardless of how long it had been since you last saw Anne, she held a special place in your heart. Her and your own mother had been close and Anne had been there for you in the months after losing her, she came every day that she was allowed to see you in the hospital, to make sure you knew you were loved. She promised to never tell Harry, you made her promise. You didn’t want to worry him and you didn’t want to distract or burden him, you somehow still worried for everyone else even though you were the one struggling. It’s almost noon when she arrived at your house in Holmes Chapel on Sunday. At this point Harry’s album had been out for 24 hours and had shot straight to the top of the charts. Even though you were angry at him, you were still proud.  Anne brings you in tight for a hug as soon as you open the door. You are relieved that she has come by herself, not having decided yet if you ever want to talk to or see Harry ever again. Once tea is drunk and scones have been had Anne flips out her phone. Y/n love, have you had a chance to listen to Harry’s album... in full? She knows it’s a tough ask, especially because of the song. I haven’t, no. I hear it’s doing wonderful though... he must be so happy. You secretly hope that this conversation is nearing its end, not wanting to talk about Harry anymore. He’s not doing the greatest love  Anne pauses for a moment. She knows she shouldn’t get involved, but she has loved you like a second daughter since you and Harry were young and has always secretly hoped the two of you would end up together. I know he shouldn’t have put the song on the album, but my wonderful numbskulled son really didn’t know you were going to be there at the party and apparently he had been trying for weeks to share it with you but between your dad and then you having really good days he didn’t want to mess it up... I know it might be hard for you, but if I’m being honest, it’s one of my favourite songs. Will you try to listen to it? Because she is like a second mother to you and because you don’t want to let her down or cause her any pain, you agree. She hugs you extra tight when she leaves and makes you promise to visit when you’re back in town again next. 

You fulfil your promise to Anne listening to the song two nights later after making your way back to London and having five too many wines. It was hard for you to listen to, but when you finish it the first time you instantly want to listen again and suddenly it’s on repeat and you instantly regret leaving before the chorus. In between sobs you manage to dial Harry’s number, the phone barely ringing before he answers. Y/n? Ello? You there? He hears your muffled sobs on the other end, where are you? Are you back in London? Please tell me where you are? You tell him your address and twenty minutes later there are some light taps on your apartment door. When he comes in you’re still sobbing and the song is still playing. He puts out his arms and wraps them around you and you sob, the two of you standing there whilst the song plays three times over. It’s a beautiful song you manage to somehow get words out between sobs and laboured breathing I mean it’s okay, it wasn’t supposed to make the album, but it’s there and there’s nothing I can do and I’m going to be sorry for the rest of our lives. Somehow the two of you make it to the couch. You share with him your anger and frustrations and thoughts about everything, how he’s broken your trust, how you’re scared to tell him anything anymore, how you’re angry that his team made YOU sign and NDA but he’s free to write songs about your disclosures and how that isn’t fair. He agrees that it isn’t fair, and he apologises again and again over and over until you can’t take it anymore. 

It takes you some time to trust Harry again after this. He has his lawyers draw up an NDA for him to sign, with a promise that you can sue him if he ever discloses anything private about you ever again. 

[imaginedxlan]

Miscommunication (Neville Longbottom)

a/n: first #harrypotter imagine look at me, told you I would have some random things coming to this account. I have and always will be a simp for Neville Longbottom so heres that

Being friends with Draco and his minions is never easy, especially when you have a secret crush on a certain Gryffindor that you know they’d never let you hear the end of if they knew. When your roommate confronts you about your feelings for one of your closest friends, you’re forced to spill.

warning(s): cussing, sexual allusions

Part 2

––––––––––––––––––––––

Pansy walks into the library in a huff. This isn’t out of the ordinary, she can be quite dramatic, but today her huff seems to be heftier than the other. She drops her things next to a table close enough to you where you can see her making a ruckus and plops in a chair, burying her face in her hands. Usually you let her sort out her thoughts before she inevitably complains to you about whatever Goyle said to her that day or Hermoine calling her pugface again, but not today. She’s actually crying.

“Pansy?” You ask, but she doesn’t lift her head. “Are you alright?”

She doesn’t even bother to move her face from her hands before she says, “Like you care.”

This was out of the ordinary. Pansy has been your roommate as well as best friend since the two of you met on your first ride on the Hogwarts Express. You stand up from your cross-legged position on your chair to sit in the empty seat at her table

“Pansy, darling, how could you say such a thing?” You ask, genuinely confused and slightly hurt by her accusations. “You know I care about you.”

She turns her head to look at you, her eyes red and her sleeves stained beneath her. She doesn’t change her face, still scowling at you, you’re not sure what you’ve done but you know she can’t be mad at you for long.

“Would you tell me what I’ve done so we can talk about this?” You plead with her, you hated when the two of you fought, it always created a weird tension in your lives.

“You must love the way he looks at you,” She starts, sniffling all the while she’s reprimanding me. “Draco just can’t get enough of you, huh? You know how much I like him, y/n, did you have to go after him too.”

“What in Godric’s name are you on about?” You ask, more confused than you were before. “Draco? Pansy there is no reality where Malfoy and I have feelings for each other.”

“I see the way he looks at you.”

���Babe, he’s looking at you!” You exclaim, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. “Malfoy doesn’t want me. Even if he did, I don’t like him like that one bit. You know I don’t like his type.”

Blood purity this, death eater that. It all got fairly boring quickly when you spend as much time with the miniature Malfoy as you do. Truth be told, you were at first obsessed with the blond, following his every move through your first few months at Hogwarts, but after a while his constant complaints about Harry Potter and his threats about his ‘father hearing about this’ hindered you from ever entertaining the thought of being with Malfoy in any sort of romantic sense.

Everyone you associated with in your house was very similar to Malfoy, just a slightly less whiny version with less daddy issues. Crabbe, Goyle, Theo and Blaise, they all had their hang ups, so you started to look outside of the Slytherin common room. You hadn’t planned to fall for a Gryffindor, you had hoped for a Ravenclaw at least being the intense hatred your friends held for the red and gold clad students, but it just happened.

You’re quite smart, just second to Hermoine Granger in many of your classes, all except herbology. That’s when Neville Longbottom entered into your life. After going to Professor Sprout, hysterical about your most recent marks in the class, she decided to take pity on you and employ her best students to help you.

You could tell you made him nervous, the whole time you were asking about mandrakes and gillyweed his cheeks stayed the same shade of crimson they had from the minute you walked into the library and gave him your signature Slytherin smile. You like the way he looked at you, the way he hung on your every word, the way he wasn’t condescending in the way most of the male friends you have made at Hogwarts are. Neville is kind just for the sake of being kind, it was something you weren’t used to.

“No, y/n, I don’t know that.” Pansy says, not in a mean way, more pleading than anything. “You never tell me about anything when it comes to boys, you always just let me go on and on about Draco, there has to be someone.”

You let out a deep sigh, Pansy is your best friend, she should be the one to know about your little crush on the Gryffindor, but you can’t help but dread the day she accidentally lets it slip to her beloved Malfoy.

“Pans before I tell you I need you to know I am not even remotely embarrassed about liking him, I just haven’t told you because the gits we call our friends would ruin him, alright so you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Pansy sticks out her pinky and waits for you to link yours with her. You interlock both of your little fingers and kiss your thumbs before pressing them together, solidifying her promise. You take a breath and turn your head to look a little further back in the library where you see Neville explaining some phenomenon to Harry Potter who looks bored out of his mind. Pansy’s gaze follows your before she gasps, smacking her hand to her mouth. 

“Merlin, y/n, you like Potter?” She whisper screams, making your head snap in her direction, widening your eyes at her.

“No you idiot, the other one.” You clarify before turning to look at him again. The way he is so deep in thought, obviously about something he’s passionate about, is so intriguing, makes you fall for him a little more every time you catch him in this state.

It’s not before Longbottom can feel two pairs of eyes burning into the side of his head. He cautiously looks to his left to see the two Slytherins looking his way. When he catches your eyes, he immediately blushes but doesn’t look away, neither do you. You simply give him a gentle smile and a small wave before turning back to Pansy who can’t contain her growing grin.

“You really like Neville?” She asks and your nod, seemingly not able to wipe the smile off your face either. “Y/n, I think thats lovely.”

“You know, I didn’t plan on liking him, but after he tutored me in herbology I just couldn’t keep away,” You gush, you can tell your face probably looks like it’s in a dream state but you don’t care. You snap back to reality to tell her again, “You see why you absolutely cannot mention this to the boys. Especially Blaise.”

You didn’t mean to add that last part, you’re cursing yourself for it actually. You hadn’t meant for anyone to find out that for a brief period of time, solely out of desperation on your end, you and Blaise had been each others extra curricular activity so to speak. It ended the minute you realized you actually had feelings for Neville, you never told Blaise the true reason but if he knew it was Neville he may well murder him.

“Blaise?” Pansy ponders, a knowing grin forming on her lips. “Don’t tell me Zabinis been in your lady parts.”

You gag at her choice of words before nodding sheepishly. “It was a year ago and it was purely out of frustration, I promise. I wanted to tell you but he made me promise to keep quiet since I was the one who ended it. I told him I liked someone else, he thinks it’s Theo. He wasn’t mad because I think he thinks Theo is the best looking out of them. I obviously disagree because I didn’t let Nott in my pants now, did I?” You realize you’re rambling and Pansy is taking in all of this information while stifling a laugh. You shake your head before continuing. “But if Blaise knew it was Neville all along he would hex him or something. You see the way Crabbe and Goyle shove him in the hallway and Draco torments him, and I don’t want Blaise joining in on it okay Pans? I really like him.”

“You’re secret is safe with me, don’t worry.” She assure you with a kind smile. “Have you snogged him?”

You shake your head, “I haven’t even spoken to him about it, we don’t talk outside of herbology. I don’t know why, I feel like I can’t muster up the courage around him.”

Her jaw drops before smacking the table in front of us, “Y/n, you are hottest sixth year in this place, quite possibly the hottest witch to walk these halls ever. I know for a fact you’re the hottest bitch to show Longbottom that kind of interest, it’s not like he’d ever say no to you.”

“That’s the thing Pans, I’m not the kind of girl he goes for,” You sigh, letting your chin rest in your hands. The thing about you and Neville is your relationship is strictly academic. If you were to tell him you had feelings for him, ones that he didn’t reciprocate, he’d probably never tutor you again. You’ll take any time with him that you can, even if it’s just to listen to him go on and on about plants. “I don’t want to freak him out, he might never want to talk to me again. I’d be so embarrassed.”

“If he’s stupid enough to take one look at you and think ‘eh, not my type’ then he’d be the one who should be embarrassed.” She tries to assure you, it doesn’t make the thought of telling him any less scary. You never want to see a look on his face when he’s disgusted with you, and you fear that’s what you’d get if you told him. “Do me a favour and look in the mirror, remind yourself who you are. I don’t just mean your face, I obviously think you’re gorgeous, me and half of this school think so, but also right here.”

She points at you heart and smile. You shrug your shoulders and before you know it, Pansy is making a big show of her exit and making the fact that theres and empty seat across from you extremely apparent, calling out as she leaves, “I won’t be back, darling y/n, don’t save my seat.”

You blush and shake your head as she sends you a wink, leaving you alone in the library. You’re not alone for long before you hear a voice behind you ask.

“You mind if I sit here.”

“Not at all.” You reply, knowing full well who it is. “Hi Neville.”

[themadhatterofficial]

Eyes, Bodies, and Potions

The Golden Trio was always meant to take down Voldemort.

Perhaps, if things happened a bit differently, if the pieces managed to link together in another way...

(Dark Golden Trio AU)

********************

Harry Potter only knew violence growing up.

The young boy hidden away in the cupboard under the stairs would sit in fear and anticipation as heavy footsteps pounded above and rattled the dust onto his tiny bed. He had a single mirror in his cupboard that Aunt Petunia had given him as a Christmas present after his uncle had slammed his head into it hard enough to cause cracks to run through it like an overzealous spiderweb.

No matter how many times he tried to avoid it, Harry always ended up watching himself in the dingy glass. In anything remotely reflective, really.

Everywhere Harry went, people commented on his eyes. On how pretty they were, how they made him look respectable, how much they stood out against the darkness of his skin and the heavy bangs that resembled a rat's nest at the best of times.

It had jump started Harry's obsession.

Everywhere he went, Harry would stare at eyes. Brown ones, blue ones, grey ones, green ones, and every mix you could think of. He liked the emotions that ran through them, how they told stories that faces and bodies would never reveal.

He could see the happiness when a couple held hands.

He could see the fear when a man gripped his girlfriend's arm a little too tight.

He could see the joy in a father's eyes when his baby snuggled further into his neck.

The fear was nice sometimes. When it was someone who deserved it. Like when Dudley's friend Henry punched Harry hard enough to take out his baby tooth and split his lip. Harry had launched forward and kept hitting and hitting and hitting until Henry was crying too hard to make noise and he was covered in reds and blues that never blossomed on Harry's deep skin.

(Henry's eyes were grey. They were scared. It was nice.)

(Henry's parents also moved their whole family far away from the neighborhood the very next week. Harry chalked it up to coincidence.)

Harry liked the happiness a lot more than the sad or scared ones. He liked sitting in the little park far from the Dursleys' and letting the long cuffs of his torn hand-me-downs scrape below the swing, watching the happy families laugh and jump and run around with one another without caring about anything else.

For as long as Harry could remember, he had wanted that. He longed for it. He would sit in his tiny cupboard on the last night of July and beg and plead whoever was up there for someone to find him. At first, Harry wished for someone to take him away. Now, Harry would be content with someone approaching him to just talk. It was a far-fetched dream, something he only dared to dream of in the quiet darkness when he pretended that his parents weren't worthless drunks who cared for the bottle more than their son. That he had a mother that took the time to tame his bird's nest of a head and read to him at night, that he had a father who taught him how to play chess and cook breakfast for his mum in bed, and maybe even an uncle that bought him secret ice creams that ruined his dinner and taught him how to talk to pretty girls at school and maybe even a sister who laughed too loud and grinned too wide and let him wrap her up in soft blankets when she was too cold to ask for it.

But for now, Harry would settle for their eyes.

********************

Ron Weasley, in Ron Weasley's opinion, was not very special.

He was the sixth child of seven in his impoverished family. He got hand-me-down everything, and was expected to do as well as his brothers, if not better. It was nothing special if he could do this, because Percy could too, and if he could do that, well, Bill already had years before.

Sometimes Ron wished he was an only child, if only for the attention he would have.

(He never wanted his siblings dead, Merlin no. He loved them all and wished them the best, even if he was a bit jealous of them.)

Perhaps this was why he was often seen hanging on Harry or Hermione's arm, spending every bit of his free time with the first things that were his, and only his.

They weren't things, and Ron knew this. He knew that they were people, and he knew that they were their own people. He never claimed them aloud, and especially didn't hint at it to Harry. He was already treated like a Thing by his muggles. They locked him away and took him out when he was of use. Ron wanted to be with him all the time, even when he didn't listen and remained as stubborn as an ass.

But they were still Ron's. He didn't like when Fred or George or Ginny would try to covet Harry's attention, or tease Hermione until all the blood rushed up to darken her cheeks to a deep blue. She would hide behind her massive hair that curled around her wildly in a way that she wasn't.

Later, Hermione would shyly admit that she'd never felt wanted, and that she quite liked the way Harry and Ron so openly expressed their need for her. Harry would say the same.

Ron Weasley liked watching people.

He saw everything he needed to from a distance, even if he wanted to get closer. He liked watching quidditch especially, how their bodies moved so gracefully and held no hesitation in their gestures. (This did not extend to his brothers and sister. He actually didn't like watching them in particular, even if he could never pry his eyes away from Harry twisting and turning and reaching as far as he could.)

Every quidditch match was exciting. Ron would emulate certain things, ever since he could remember. Bill's easy-going swagger. Charlie's big hand movements. Percy's chin tilt he did when he was trying to make a point, or the seamless weaving and bobbing Fred and George had mastered together. He'd mostly out grown it before Ginny came along, but sometimes he even ran his hand through his hair like she did. His dad did it, and it was a small thing the three of them shared, and Ron coveted it.

The most ingrained thing about Ron was probably his tactile nature. His mum was the same way. They were probably the most expressive, always ready to give out a hug and kiss on the cheek or just to hold someone.

This came in handy later in life.

Hermione likes to stand on her toes.

It's a small thing that he's sure she isn't really aware of. She'd mentioned offhandedly that her parents had forced her to do ballet when Ron mentioned it, and it became more and more clear. When she stretched she pointed her toes perfectly, and when she turned to speak she'd often spin around on the tips of her feet. It was endearing, especially even when she went on her long winded tangents about anything and everything.

When she talked, her smile lit up the room and her hands flitted about excitedly. When she saw something that caught her eye, Hermione would stretch out her neck and raise her eyebrows high into her uneven bangs.

Hermione was also very awkward. She hid behind her big kinky curls, which Ron soon learned were in that weird frizzy stage because of repeated failed attempts at straightening it. (He quite liked her hair just the way it was, but Hermione didn't, which was disappointing.) Ron would shake his head and teasingly pull on one of her coils so it bounced tightly. She would flush, and when they first met she absolutely despised it. It wasn't until they'd known each other for so long that she would allow him to do so. He was the only one other than Harry that was allowed. Soon after she began to grow comfortable with his casual touches.

So when she would awkwardly put her hand forward to shake Ron's, he would push it away in order to wrap her up tightly in his arms. She'd tense at first before hugging back tentatively, then tightly, as if she never wanted him to let her go.

Harry tugs at his sleeves when he gets nervous.

He does it a lot, actually. When they ride up, he pulls the cuffs down to grip in his palms.

When adults speak to him, he squeezes himself inward to make himself smaller. When they raise their voices, his head drops down ever so slightly, as if it's an instinct he's trying to fight. When they get too close, his body twitches away as if it has a mind of its own.

Ron soon noticed that Harry couldn't handle yelling. Ron and Hermione began to fight about Merlin-knows-what one night by the lake. It wasn't until Ron's voice was slightly hoarse and he paused to take a breath that he remembered that Harry was still there. He was sitting on the damp grass, completely still with his hands muffling his ears and his head tucked between his knees.

Ron always warns Harry before reaching to him. Always asks if its okay. It's soon obvious to Ron that no one has truly hugged Harry, and does so whenever he has the chance. And Harry absolutely clings onto Ron, which is really nice. No one's really done that. His siblings weren't always the touchy-type and his parents were always too busy with this or that to dedicate so much time to the Least Favorite.

(Ron knew that they loved him. He never doubted that. But he was nothing if not a realist.)

But Ron's favorite thing was when Harry would jump on him. Harry never talked much unless one prompted him endlessly, and it was even rarer for him to initiate a conversation or reach out for anyone or anything. So when Harry would get so excited he tackle-hugged Ron into the grass or the floor of the common room, and Hermione would burst into giggles beside them, he'd feel his heart burst open for these two people that truly appreciated him.

Watching people fall was pretty fascinating.

Their bodies would turn and prepare for the inevitable, bracing in fear before the impact came.

They showed something real, in those moments. The shock, the resignation, pure, unadulterated fear that overtook their entire bodies dominated Ron's attention when it happened. And when the fear happened, he saw who they were. How one handles the fear, the harsh reality ready to break their nose it, shows who they truly are.

When Hermione fell into the Devil's Snare, and Ron and Harry were stuck in the stage of fear, he could see Hermione's brain turn over. He saw the way she went straight from the fear to the calm determination of someone who was not ready for the end. He could see the clear fuck you on her face before she sunk below the vines.

When Harry's broom began to shake and throw him off in a violent rage, Ron saw the fear. He saw the clear fear outline every bone of his body before his grip tightened and his body swung upwards. He could see the resignation, and he could see the acceptance of what would happen. But that wasn't standing out as much as the look that overtook his entire face. He could hear it from the stands, the way he was telling himself - not without a fight.

Ron quite liked the fear. He liked seeing them panic and squirm. He liked knowing who they were, if only for a moment.

When he punched Goyle in the face, he saw it. When he beat him over and over in the empty corridor, Ron knew. He didn't have that fight in him, the way his best friends do. He was pitiful, really. Ron felt no sympathy afterwards, merely watched as the larger boy scrambled away bloody and terrified.

And later, when Ron let Harry bandage his knuckles in a way that no eleven year old should be able to do with such ease, he watched the blood swirl down the drain with morbid fascination.

His knuckles were swollen and bruised, and Harry was endlessly careful with them.

Goyle had gotten a good punch in, and Hermione's hand flitted around his cheek worriedly for a good two minutes before calming down.

And the next day, when Goyle's bruises were yellow with some kind of accelerated healing potion, Ron was quite disappointed that the colors had left so quickly. He felt put-out, robbed even, of the satisfaction he'd wanted. That he'd earned.

But when their eyes met, and Goyle flinched to look down with shameful fear, Ron decided that he could settle for that.

********************

Hermione Granger had always been a smart girl. It was something she had always prided herself in. Top of her class, always on time, always perfect.

Her parents had made sure of that. The Grangers would not permit their only child to fail. They refused to have a fuck up for a daughter. It would disgrace them beyond belief, leaving the family humiliated and shame-faced for all of the world to see.

Hermione Granger was used to the low expectations. She had long since grown accustomed to people looking down on her. From her buck teeth, to dark skin, to her frizzy hair, not many expected much from her.

They were proper people, the Grangers. Practical and no-nonsense types that expected their child to achieve a level of success that they were never able to reach.

So it was quite a shock when one day a severe-looking woman appeared on their doorstep in a tall pointy hat and bright green bathrobe that smelled faintly of cat treats.

Hermione had had an inkling about the magic. Strange occurrences, things that logic simply could not explain.

"It snowed once," she had murmured under her breath.

The three adults stopped their snapping, which had been quickly escalating into a fully-blown argument, to look towards the girl.

"What was that?" the professor had sniped quickly.

Hermione looked towards her parents, their lips pressed together tensely as they stared down their daughter through narrowed eyes.

"It snowed," Hermione'd said a bit more clearly. "When... when I read Narnia." She barely kept from flinching when her mother's fist clenched at the mention of one of those horrid fairy tales, but Hermione looked down and twisted her lips from side to side.

"Why is that?" the woman had asked a touch less harshly.

"In the story the kids went through a wardrobe and found a place where it snowed all year round. I just wanted to visit somewhere... somewhere different. Like..."

When Hermione made no effort to finish the professor made the effort to kneel before her to match their heights.

And slowly, the professor's lips began to pull up ever so slightly into an encouraging (and slightly conspiratorial) smile. "Somewhere magical?"

"Yes," Hermione had breathed out emphatically, nodding her head so vigorously that the beads in her weighty braids clanked together loudly enough to echo around the silent room.

"Well, I think that I may be able to make that happen."

To be entirely truthful, Hermione didn't much like school.

She loved learning. She had always loved learning. It was her favorite thing in the whole world. But the pressure, both from the school and her family, made Hermione want to tear her hair out until there was nothing left. Her parents were terrible about it. They monitored her grades as closely as humanly possible. And it was't enough to just do good, or great, or perfect. She had to be better than everyone in anything and everything she did.

Hermione had done ballet when she was little. It wan't her favorite thing in the world, but it had been fun.

But she wasn't The Best.

So her parents made her quit.

Harry and Ron were different than most.

They were her friends. Her real friends. Most people sneered at her in class when her hand always shot up and she jumped at the chance to answer every question she could and fight to be the first one to demonstrate how much better she was than them. (There had been a period of time where Hermione had stopped doing so. Her parents found out. She began raising her hand again.)

Her boys sometimes did that. When Hermione got overexcited and cut off the teacher Harry would sometimes hide his face with his hand or Ron would groan and roll his eyes. But the second someone else said something to her, they would jump at the chance to defend her and take no prisoners.

The three of them were family. A real family. Not like at home where dinner was tense and silent while Hermione's father picked apart every single sentence of her school progress reports, or when Harry would talk about his relatives in quivering whispers before quickly changing the subject before they could ask about his over-sized clothing and the gruesome pattern of raised skin on his arms.

Hermione laughed more with them in her first year at Hogwarts than she ever had in her entire existence. While Harry had a strange kind of gasping laugh that she could hardly distinguish between joy or pain, Ron's was full-bodied and bright. But they were both amazing. They sounded happy. Safe. Kind of like home.

She had never been so happy in her life.

Hermione loved magic.

It had a strange set of rules to it. Strange. Different. But soon enough, Hermione understood it.

Her favorite was potions. There was a definitive way to it, logic that was always followed. Hermione could follow a method and it would be perfect. Action and reaction. That was all it was. Action and reaction. Action and reaction.

(Snape was obviously terrible. He made her face burn and tears spring to her eyes. But she couldn't stop raising her hand or jumping in to answer questions. She just couldn't. If it got back to her parents it would be a thousand times worse than anything Snape could ever do to her.)

But outside of the classroom, Hermione fell in love with the method of potion-making. It was soothing and gentle and welcoming and just so perfect for her. Outside of the dankness of the dungeons and the harsh bearing of Severus Snape's beady black eyes, Hermione Granger sat in the sunlight of the second floor girls' lavatory and created masterpieces. She used her tools to create art. From potions of brilliant greens to velvety purples to bright blues so clear that she could see the bottom of the cauldron through. It was stunningly beautiful. And it took her breath away.

But she wasn't The Best.

(not yet, at least)

It was early on a Saturday morning.

The sun streamed through the tall window of the second floor girls' lavatory and landed on Hermione and her cauldron at the perfect angle. It was a potion recipe that Harry had found in the restricted section and given to her. (Normally, Hermione would never condone breaking rules. At school, no less. But this was a Special Circumstance.) It caused the consumer's heart to beat so fast that the blood couldn't make it through the arteries quickly enough, causing them them to clog and trigger a heart attack.

Hermione hadn't planned on actually giving it to anyone. It would be disgustingly terrible. To cause someone's death...

But then, the colors were so pretty. Swirling pinks and purples moving like waves crashing upon the sand, splashing against the sides of the cauldron of their own accord. Her eyes traced their movements, transfixed into a deep state of pure calm.

She didn't even notice when some of it had splashed up over the lip of the cauldron. It landed on the tiles with a decisive plink that echoed in the silence.

Hermione hadn't seen the rat until it was too late. She watched in horror as the small rodent moved towards the spilled potion, sniffing at it before licking hesitantly.

Before she could yell for it to stop, the rat began to convulse on the dirty floor. Hermione could do nothing but watch as the poor thing's body shook violently, squealing pathetically and rolling around in excruciating pain.

And then the blood.

There was so much in its tiny body. It was actually quite shocking. Spilling from everywhere from its eyes to its mouth to its ears. It was a horror scene - party of one.

Hermione wanted it to stop. She wanted to save the little rat. It was cruel and unkind and unfair and...

Disgustingly beautiful.

The vividness of its blood threw her off. It was smooth and thick, running through the grooves of the tiles in gentle rivulets akin to that of the rivers that carved through the Forest of Dean.

It was very different to see this kind of pain tearing its course through something. It felt almost satisfying to watch. Like she was seeing her own pain manifest itself within a tiny conductor, forcing everything inside of her inside of it.

And it was Hermione that was doing it. Hermione's potion. Her own knowledge and power transferring into another living breathing thing, wreaking its havoc as it went.

Action and reaction.

Sometimes Hermione would watch others in school with the same lens that she had watched that rat. She would bore holes through the side of Pansy Parkinson's head or clench her hands to avoid tilting the entirety of her scalding potion down the back of Professor Snape's robes during class.

(She would fantasize about it. Sometimes Hermione felt like a monster for doing so, but then she would look at Ron when he dug his fingertips into the desk and glare at Draco Malfoy with a barely concealed type of rage that she Knew meant that they were the same.)

(Harry was a little different. He didn't always have that kind of rage inside of him. But he would watch when Ron would fight others, untamed and wild in every aspect. And it would glimmer behind the vibrant green of his irises that Hermione had yet to recreate with one of her potions.)

Hermione wanted to do it. She wanted to drip just the littlest bit of her art onto their wrists. Just a drop. She wanted to watch their skin shrivel and burn, eaten away by the nature of her poison. She wanted to hear them scream. She wanted them to feel what she feels, if only for a bit. She wanted to paint with their blood, tracing sigils of old into her skin and practicing the kind of magic that would have her mother fainting on the front lawn and her father puking into the ugly orange tulips tracing the stark white walls of her pretty little muggle home.

But for now, she'd have to settle for the rats haunting the bathroom floor.

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #19

#19. “Does your life revolve around embarrassing me?”

“Aaron, I need a favor.”

His boss, Rich, catches him as he’s arriving for the day, shuffling a few piles of papers on his desk as he waits for the clock to strike 8. Not a moment before, not a moment after, he thinks. Their shifts are carefully timed, every minute on the clock accounted for. The budget is tight; Aaron’s heard the rumors, questioning of why Ambassador Prentiss needs the amount of security she has. Whispers of cuts have become more and more frequent over the last few weeks. He’s grateful to still have a full schedule of shifts. Others haven’t been as lucky.

“Sir?” Aaron asks as evenly as he can. It’s about to be a long day and from what he’s learned in the months of working there, visits from Ambassador Prentiss’s head of security typically entail some special assignment, one he didn’t sign up for, but is volun-told for. “Is there something you needed?” He knows he shouldn’t ask, but he needs a good letter of recommendation when he ultimately puts in his two weeks sooner rather than later. He has his eyes on something a bit more ambitious, potentially the FBI. He’s already started the grueling application process.

“A big favor.” Rich sounds slightly out of breath, as if he ran the whole way to his office, judging by his red face. He looks annoyed, his face a little pinched, etched with a few more lines than it had the first time they met. Aaron still isn’t quite sure what makes his job so stressful - the Ambassador’s residence runs like clockwork, and now that it’s fall and things have settled down, it’s been relatively quiet.

“I need you to drive to New Haven this morning. I’d ask Harris to do it, but he called off sick and we’re short-staffed already.” It’s the way he says it that Aaron knows he just learned the news too, as if trying to coordinate logistics in his own head.

New Haven. Fuck, Aaron thinks, briefly closing his eyes. What he wants to say is Harris called off for a bachelor party in Ocean City and to find someone else. Instead, he sinks into his desk chair, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. Driving to New Haven can only mean one thing, and while he’s almost certain no one knows what happened over the summer, he can never be too sure. “New Haven, Sir? This morning?” He glances at the calendar on the wall - shit. It’s the coming weekend before Thanksgiving -more traffic is all but a given, and it also means Emily will be home for almost a full week.

Then he remembers he’s scheduled to work doubles most of the holiday week.

Great.

“Ambassador Prentiss called me to her office an hour ago. She’s asking that Emily be driven home from Yale tonight. I don’t know the details, but she was pretty persistent that one of us would go up there and get her. My guess is she got into some kind of trouble, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Aaron tries to hide his annoyance, and more so the slight tug of worry in the pit of his stomach. “What are you talking about? What kind of trouble?” He does the math in his head - it’s  a five hour drive to Connecticut without traffic. There and back will be at least a twelve hour day, if not more.

“I don’t want to speculate, but the last time this happened, she got caught underage in a bar and nearly got arrested. We never found out exactly what happened, but from what I heard, it wasn’t good.”

Aaron grimaces; it’s exactly like Emily’s mother to sweep something like that under the rug and completely ignore the bigger issue at hand. From what he’s learned, it’s been a familiar pattern for years.

“The Ambassador approved time and a half for whoever makes the trip. I know you said you need the -”

“I’ll do it,” Aaron says quickly before he can think too much about the circumstances, wondering just what could be so pressing at such a last minute.  His situation with Emily is complicated, one that should have never even become a thing in the first place. But it did, and even three months after she’d left, she remains at the forefront of his mind most days, a constant reminder of those hot summer nights in mid July.

There’d been nights at his apartment and early mornings in her room; behind closed doors he’d fallen for her. She’d careened into his world completely unexpected, a welcomed change from his familiar pattern of soft-spoken, yet well-intentioned blondes. Emily was the exact opposite. There had been secret meetings tucked amongst the endless gardens, dinners in dive bars and a few trips to nicer restaurants under the city lights when his paycheck allowed.  It was exhilarating and all consuming until it wasn’t, when it all came to a screeching halt a few weeks later.

They haven’t talked since the night before left for New Haven. The night ended with an argument, along with tears (hers) and a ridiculous sense of guilt (his) as he dropped her off just outside the gates of the mansion. Yet she’d been the one to end it, explaining through thinly veiled frustration that it just wouldn’t work, that everything would change and none of this could continue. His pushback had only angered her, his attempts to assure her it could in fact work fell on deaf ears. And as she’d all but fled from his car, it was fear he saw in her face. Fear of possibility for what could be.

All of this, along with their months of silence, means he’s probably the last person she’ll expect to see outside her door. Aaron has a feeling she isn’t quite prepared for what is about to be a very unexpected visit. What he also knows is that neither is he.

…

It’s been awhile since he stepped foot on a college campus, and he doesn’t exactly blend in wearing a full suit and dark sunglasses in a sea of jeans and sweatshirts. He ignores the stares he gathers from the small groups of students all over the campus, finding her building with relative ease.

He nods a thanks to the girl holding the door open, quickening his pace just a little. She gives him a once over, lifting an eyebrow at his attire. “Campus security is the other way, you know. You look a little lost.”

“I’m in the right place,” he retorts quickly, brushing past her and up to the third floor. As he climbs the stairs with a slight burn in his lungs from the exertion, Aaron remembers Emily complaining about that three story climb over the summer, and the memory of her, warm in his arms, almost makes him smile. Almost. But she most likely has no idea he’s coming; it’s impossible to tell what her reaction will be. Anger? Indifference? But by now he’s standing outside her door, and it’s too late to turn back.

Aaron knocks three times, crisp and precise, then waits a few perfunctory moments. No answer. He knocks again, this time a little more insistent, and he hears a soft grunt, a muffled voice from behind the door. What he doesn’t expect is what he sees when the door swings open. A guy, about her age give or take, blinks away the confusion from his eyes, his defenses rising immediately. He’s clearly not expecting visitors, and Aaron, half expecting him to close the door in his face, briefly wonders if he has the right room.

319. It’s right, and this just got significantly more awkward, even as a small bubble of jealousy rises in his throat, one that takes him by surprise. “Who the hell are you?” Aaron asks, instinctively propping the door open with his foot.

“Name’s Rob.” There’s a cigarette in his hand; the room smells like an ashtray and slightly of stale wine, even though it’s the middle of the day. He flicks his eyes over Aaron’s suit and scoffs with an air of arrogance. “What are you, some kind of cop or something?”

“I’m here for -”

“Aaron? What are you doing here?” Emily suddenly pops up behind Rob out of nowhere, looking just as surprised, and slightly embarrassed as realization dawns on her face. “Tell me my mother did not send you here.”

Rob visibly tenses at the mention of the Ambassador. “Your mom’s got the cops chasing you now? I thought you said she wouldn’t find out about  -”

Emily’s cheeks flush as she rolls her eyes, taking a sideways look at Aaron. “He’s not a cop, Rob. He just works for her.”

“Basically the same thing, right? You said she basically had her own secret service. You know this guy?”

“Yeah,” Emily sighs with frustration. “I know him.”

Aaron shifts from foot to foot, staring between them both. Being here suddenly feels invasive; he wishes he would have never said yes to this in the first place. It’s clear nothing has changed between Emily and her mother, and everything has changed between the two of them. She’s clearly moved on. Maybe it’s best to make this as detached as possible - a business transaction, no emotions or feelings. “I’m your ride home. Start packing.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Emily narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Just following orders.” He scans the room - the counter is littered with empty cans and cups, a deck of cards strewn over the desk in a corner, an ashtray full of cigarettes. “How soon do you think you can be ready to leave?”

“Leave? What about tonight?” Rob cuts in. “Brian and Dan got bottle service tonight. I thought you were going to bring that hot friend of yours. Dan wants to meet her.”

“Bottle service?” Aaron says incredulously, wishing he could wipe the smirk off Rob’s face. “You do know she’s underage, right?” He doesn’t have to look at Emily to know that is enough to set her off, and she shoots him a look that could cut glass.

“Listen man,” Rob begins, swaying on his feet. “I don’t know who you are but -”

“I’m  the guy who's going to kick you out-” Aaron begins tersely.

“Just go, Rob. Please just … go.” Emily snaps, presses her fingertips to her eyes, the heat rising to her face like two blood red stains on her cheeks. “I’ll … I’ll call you once I figure this out. Just go without me.”

“Or just ditch your babysitter.” He scoffs but still leans in closer, all but towering over her. Aaron doesn’t miss the way Emily recoils when Rob kisses her cheek. He reminds him of the type of guy who would go from her room straight into another girl’s without a second thought, say all the same things and no one will be the wiser. But the door shuts, leaving them alone for the first time in months. Aaron shoves his hands in his suit pockets and stares out the window as Emily sneers.

“Does your life revolve around embarrassing me now?”  she huffs, looping her hair behind her ear, shoes obnoxiously clunking against the floor as pulls a suitcase from under her bed. “Because if so, you’re doing a real bang-up job.”

“No. My job,” he says, placing emphasis on the word, “is getting you back home like I was ordered to do.”

“So they sent you this time?” She sighs, dumping some empty cups into the trash. “Why am I not surprised?” It’s mid afternoon but she looks exhausted, and Aaron wonders if she even got any sleep at all the night before.

“I’m just following orders,” he says again, following her with his eyes as Emily starts tossing clothes into a bag. There’s no thought to her packing process; she opens drawers and slams them shut, pulling out clothes with a little too much force.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks a little more softly this time, keeping space between them both.

“No.”

As expected.

“You can tell me, you know.”

“Nothing happened,” she says crisply, zipping her suitcase shut. But she doesn’t look at him, which confirms that something definitely happened.

“Then why am I here?”

“Aaron,” Emily says almost teasingly, as if any memory of the last time they spoke has seemingly evaporated from her mind. “This is certainly not the first time my mother has sent one of you up here to come get me for some reason or another. It certainly won’t be the last.”

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble for her to go to.” From the tone of his voice it’s clear he doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“You have met her right? The only person my mother cares about is herself. And her career. She doesn’t care who else is inconvenienced by that.”

He can’t argue with her, and decides to drop it for the time being. There’s a five hour car ride awaiting them; plenty of time to peel her walls down. “If we don’t leave soon we’re going to hit rush hour,” he says patiently, checking his watch. “The sooner we get back, the better.”

She’s quiet for a few minutes, finishing the last of her packing. But finally Emily meets his stare, and for the first time since he arrived, offers a smile. “It’s good to see you, Aaron.”

This time, he almost believes her.

...

“So, who’s your friend?” Aaron asks casually, a half hour into their five hour trip. She’s hardly said a word since taking the passenger seat; her only request was to stop at the gas station for coffee and a pile of sugary candy that she’s started to work her way through. “Rob?”

His question gets the shortest of laughs from Emily as she tips her sunglasses down her nose. “You lasted longer than I thought you would.” Yet she gives nothing else, and he knows he has to push her a little harder.

“He’s kind of an ass,” Aaron says without taking his eyes off the road. “You hang around him a lot?”

“Why?” She challenges, less out of anger rather than amusement. She’s known this question was coming since the minute she saw him standing in the door. “Are you jealous or something?”

He says nothing, only turns his head to stare at her. “Answer my question.”

“Sometimes.” Emily picks at the seam of a bag of peach rings, her eyes on her lap. “You’re not wrong, though, in your assessment.”

“And yet you still hang around him?” He doesn’t bother to hide the distaste in his voice. “Seems like bad news. Is he the reason why I’m here?”

“You’re worried,” she says quietly, crossing and recrossing her legs. “I can tell.”

“Of course I’m worried, Emily. I’m fucking worried to say the least. Can you blame me?”

“You shouldn’t. It’s under control.” Her silence is telling, an indicator that the conversation is over as she pointedly turns to face the window. Aaron swallows in frustration, knowing he pushed a little too far.

Connecticut turns into New York, the miles already starting to blend together in the tense quiet. As the traffic thickens and the SUV comes to a stop, the George Washington bridge looming in the distance, Emily speaks for the first time in more than an hour.

“Aaron?” She says hesitantly, her bottom lip between her teeth with worry. “Can you keep a secret?”

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Code Silver - Life in the ER

This is the continuation of my “Life in the ER” series. This takes place two months after the previous installment. As always, you don’t necessarily have to read the previous installments but it may help clarify any questions you have.

Now take note of this MAJOR WARNING - there is an active shooter situation in this chapter. There will be blood, cussing, needles, surgery and death in this chapter. You have been warned.

I do not own Dr. Leighton. His name was originally used in Code Black, which is one of my favorite medical dramas. I do not own that name. And Dr. Weasley is named after the famous red-headed family in Harry Potter - I don’t own that name either.

As always, feedback would be wonderful and much appreciated. Buckle up kids, this is going to be a doozy of a ride.

June 10, 2021 11:00am

He never wished for a normal day while working in the ER but he wished for one today. Wishing for normal days, usually, meant that the hours in the ER were filled with chaos and craziness and somehow even more casualties than an average shift. He sighed as he thought back on the long night he had. Mack had been up most of the night, and usually Race could get her settled down but he was at his wits end. Spot ended up getting up to help him, making the 5am wake up call a struggle.

“Get it gear, Conlon.” Plums teased as she stood at the nurse’s desk giving a look. “Coffee not kicking in?”

Groaning, he looked up from the keyboard he was staring at a little too intently, nodding to the white cup sitting beside his hand. “This is my fifth cup; if it hasn’t kicked in yet then I don’t think there’s hope. Little miss only wanted me last night.”

“Ahhh those days are fun. Addie is in a Jack phase right now and I’m chopped liver.” Plums grinned. “Hopefully that won’t last long?”

Spot shrugged. “It’s been a week already. It doesn’t help when I’m working the early shift. She loves to party between 2 and 4.”

“Ugh do not miss those days. Addie is finally sleeping all the way through the night. She gets up at 5:30, just as I’m walking out the door though.” She smiled as Albert slid into a chair. “You okay, Al?”

He grinned. “Yea, patient in room four needs a checkup at some point. What’d I missed?”

“Noted - thanks. Spot’s kid throwing a rager from 2-4am.” Plums pointed out.

Albert chuckled loudly. “Ahh that sounds like fun.”

“Don’t laugh - this’ll be you this time next year.” Spot pointed his index finger in Albert’s direction. Finch and Albert had announced their little bundles of joy would be arriving around the beginning of December.

The grin slid from his face as Spot’s words made him pause. “Shit. I guess I will be taking notes from you both before that time.”

A call came over the intercom as Plums grabbed a chart before heading down the hallway. “Duty calls. Meet you guys in the cafe around 1 for lunch?”

“See you then.” Spot saluted her as he finished typing up his notes, looking over his shoulder at Albert who was writing in his own chart. “You doing good?”

A smirk crossed Albert’s face. “Doing well. Finch mentioned that we should have you and Race and Jack and Kat over for a cookout.”

“That’ll be fun.” Spot sighed, typing something in the chat he was having with another doctor, groaning as he stood up. “I’ve got to go draw another vial of blood. Don’t miss me too much.”

Albert blew him a kiss as he watched him walk away with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry, pooks, I won’t.”

Spot quickly drew the vial of blood from his patient in bay 12 before walking it upstairs to deliver Elmer. “Got some fresh, still warm blood for you. Orders should be in your inbox.”

“How’s the world of emergency today? Quiet?” Elmer accepted the vial before typing a few keys on his keyboard, giving Spot a quick smile.

Spot sighed, leaning against the wall, trying to stretch his back. “It’s quiet but two ambulances were pulling up just as I escaped up here. Is it 6pm yet?”

“Sorry, you still have 6.5 hours to go.” Elmer was way too cheerful as he delivered that news to Spot, who merely groaned.

The hospital phone that was attached to his hip dinged with a message that made him smile. “Hey if you haven’t eaten by 1, we’re planning on eating in the cafe. Come by.”

“I’ll see if I can get away. These results will be in your patient’s chart by the time you get back downstairs.” Elmer grinned.

Saluting him, Spot grinned. “Thanks, Elm. You’re the best.”

Whistling along to a song that was stuck in his head, he headed back downstairs, via the stairs. He hopped down the stairs as he thought about everything that he needed to do before his shift ended. Just as his foot hit the bottom stair, the intercom blared to life with a “Code Silver” followed by the Emergency Department as the location. Words you never wanted to hear in a hospital. A shiver ran down his back as his brain processed the words. Gripping the handle of the staircase he faltered in his step. Active shooter.

Throwing open the heavy stairwell door, he found himself in a surprisingly empty hallway. His shoes squeaked softly as he made his way to an empty patient room, quickly darting behind the door for protection. Grabbing the blue hospital issued phone, he opened it, silencing the volume. He sent a message both to Plums and Albert asking them where they were.

As he waited, all he could hear was someone yelling and the blood rushing through his ears. The phone vibrated in his hand as he quickly brought it up to eye level. From Plums: Patient’s room, door locked, everyone okay. You?

Ignoring her message for now, he started making his way back towards the center of the Emergency Room. In the back of his mind, he knew he should get out while he could but not while his sister-in-law and best friend were in the middle of danger.

“Where the hell is Nicole Ridder?” A loud voice raged, catching his attention as he slid under a desk. “Where is she?”

A gunshot went off as several more screams pierced the air as a hand slammed on a desk. “Where is she?”

Looking around the corner, Spot’s eyes went wide, as he took in the scene. Albert was under the desk, the very desk the man was loudly banging his fist on. Sadie, a nurse that Spot didn’t know too well, was staring down the man. “Sir, there is no Nicole Ridder here. I just checked our in-patients and there’s no one here by that name.”

“She texted me and said she’s here and now you won’t fucking let me see her.” The man screamed as another gunshot exploded, breaking the silent air. All Spot could do was watch Sadie crumble as the bullet hit her.

The man hit his hand once more before taking several steps, waving the gun in front of several other nurses, the air returning quiet. “Nicole, where are you?”

The man neared Spot’s position, as he tried to make himself smaller. “NICOLE!”

His shouts became more desperate as he started pushing open closed doors. Spot tried to regulate his breath as the man’s footsteps came closer.

He stopped at the desk that Spot was sitting under, his hand pounding the top. His voice was gruff as he cocked the trigger of the gun. “I know there are more people here - just tell me where in the hell Nicole is and I won’t shoot up the place.”

A cry broke the silence, as both Spot and the man looked towards a closed door. Within seconds the man was standing in front of the door, the butt of the gun banging against the solid wood door.

His hand tightened around the door handle, jiggling it to open it but found it locked. “NICOLE, OPEN THIS DOOR! I know you’re in there.”

A noise behind Spot made him look. Albert and a few other nurses made a break for it, running for a door that would lead them outside. Spot felt a rush of air escape his mouth. Albert was safe. But he feared for Plums’ safety.

Plums’ POV

The jiggling of the door handle sent a shiver down her back. She was currently hiding behind the bed, with her patient and her patient’s child, trying to keep them both safe. Putting a finger to her mouth, she locked eyes with the two.

She had been about to discharge Josie, who had strep throat, when the Code Silver had come over the intercom. Immediately she had shut the door, locked it and put the chair under the handle, blocking them in the small room.

“NICOLE, OPEN THIS DOOR! Goddammit I know you’re in there.” The jiggling continued as tears crowded her eyes. She attempted to calm her breathing.

Grabbing the blue phone, she quickly typed something in and sent it to both Albert and Spot, hoping the two of them got out before this madness began.

“NICOLE DAMMIT OPEN THIS DOOR.” The man’s voice pleaded as his fists hit the door, each bang louder than the previous.

She slipped her hand into the little girl’s, giving it a squeeze, as she prayed that the ordeal would end soon.

Spot’s POV

He felt the phone vibrate in his hand as he opened the message.

I’m in the room with her and her daughter.

The gasp escaped his mouth before he could help it but the pounding on the door told him the gunman hadn’t heard. He wished he had his personal cell on him but the hospital frowned upon that. He just wanted to get a message to Race.

His thoughts stopped for a minute. Race. His husband who was out on summer break, at home with their daughter. Or maybe he and Jack took the girls out for lunch and were at least together. Leaning his head back, he stretched his neck muscles, praying that he’d get to see his daughter and husband at least one more time.

Taking a steady breath, Spot’s mind started turning. He needed to get that gunman away from that door if Plums had a chance to get away.

Opening up the phone, he quickly typed out a message to Plums Right outside the door under the desk.

His butt was falling asleep as he sat scrunched up under the desk. He slowly adjusted himself, cussing when his shoe squeaked. Spot cussed under his breath as the pounding on the door came to a standstill. “Who’s there?”

Eyes wide, Spot bit his lip in an attempt to stay quiet. “Show yourself or I will put a bullet through this door. This isn’t a game.”

Another gunshot sounded as screams pierced the air. Several more gunshots were fired in quick succession as the man growled under his breath. “Damnit, Nicole, get your skinny ass out here now. Quit playing these damn games.”

Another several gunshots were fired through the door, wood splintering as the bullet made contact. Several screams pierced the quietness, one of which was most definitely Plums.

Spot could hear the man pacing in front of the door, as his shoes squeaked with each pass. Every few seconds, the butt of the gun would knock against the door. Spot could hear him growl, growing frustrated by the situation at hand. “You leave me no choice, Nicole.”

Before he could take another breath, the gun was fired in quick rounds, several bullets hitting the wooden door as screams erupted from the small room. Spot eased out from his position, looking at the man as he screamed and unloaded his gun into the small room.

He heard the familiar click of the gun, signaling that it was out of ammunition. Spot took that moment to stand and look at the man. He moved stealthily, as he made his way to the man. Before he could think, he punched the man, successfully crumbling him to the ground. The gun went sliding down the hallway as Spot punched the man a few times. “Plums, get them the hell outta here.”

The man attempted to hit Spot back but was unsuccessful and several seconds later, the police came in, slapping handcuffs on the man before helping Spot up.

Spot stood, chest heaving as his brain caught up on what had just happened. He faltered in his step just as a police man caught him. “Sir, you okay?”

“Dizzy.” He mumbled just as he collapsed and fell to the ground.

Plums’ POV

Holding up her hands, she hurled herself over to the police and told them to get the hell in there, that the gunman had been subdued.

Without another word, she watched several police officers make their way into the building as she was led to a makeshift medical area. She was led to a stretcher where her vitals were checked and she was given a check over. She had some cuts from glass and bruises but nothing life threatening. The mental reminders would take some time to overcome. Albert wrapped a warm blanket around her shoulders as she sat on the bed. “It was Spot.”

Albert’s hands stilled as he took her blood pressure. “Spot what?”

“Spot subdued the gunman by hitting him and knocking him out.” Plums whispered as she looked at Albert.

Albert dropped the stethoscope, before pulling her into a hug, as she lost it. The tears, fears, relief all came bubbling to the surface. He hushed her, brushing his hand up and down her back as he attempted to calm her down. “Hey it’ll be okay. Jack, Race, and Finch are all outside and as soon as you’re done, I’ll bring them all back, okay?”

She nodded, her breath coming out in gasps, as he took her blood pressure. He did a few other checks, she figured for bullets or any other damages before jotting down something on the piece of paper at the makeshift table. “Do you want me to stay or go get them?”

“Can you stay and have someone get them? Also, where’s Spot?” She asked, eyes wide with the fear still radiating through her body. She knew the adrenaline would be cursing through her body for some time yet.

Albert nodded, stepping out for a moment before coming back in. “Maddie is going to get Jack, Race, and Finch and she’s checking on Spot.”

“Albie?” She asked, clutching the blanket tighter around her.

“Yea Plums?” He asked, scribbling something on a chart in front of him. He looked up, looking at one of his family members, trying to keep it all together.

She sniffled, looking at the cut on her hand. “Was anyone killed?”

He stilled with the question, dropping the pen before walking over to wrap her in a hug as she broke down crying. “Shhh.” He whispered as he ran a hand up and down her back.

Tears clouded his eyes as he listened to her heartbreaking sobs. Soon they turned to snuffs as she pulled away from him and wiped her eyes. “Sorry.”

“No, Kat, you have nothing to apologize for.” He shook his head. “You’re safe and your body is trying to regulate itself. It’s okay. But to answer your question, I haven’t heard anything about anyone. Once I got out, they checked me out and said they needed help with injuries so I’ve been doing this. I was just relieved to see you run out.”

Looking up, she gasped seeing Jack, Race, and Finch all standing there. Before she could do anything, Jack was pulling her into a hug as she busted into another round of tears. Jack was mumbling stuff in her ear and running his hand through her hair as she immediately felt safe in Jack’s arms. Leaning back, she pressed a kiss to his lips. ��Love you too.”

Stepping away from Jack, she pulled Race into her arms as he sniffled. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Where’s Spot?”

“He was the one who subdued the gunman. He’s probably talking to the police.” She mumbled, watching Race’s face crumble.

She watched many emotions cover Race’s face as he faltered. “He did what?”

“I don’t know how but he knocked the gunman out and told me to get out of there.” She looked at him. “He’s a hero, Race.”

Tears clouded Race’s face as she pulled him back into a hug. “He was fine when I was running out of there so I’m sure he’s talking to the police.”

She soothed him, by rubbing a hand up and down his back. She watched Jack talk to Albert and Finch. “Where are our girls?”

“Medda has them.” Race pulled back, wiping his eyes. “Jack and I were hanging out at your house when she stopped by. When this came across the news, Jack said we needed to get down here. We held our breaths every time the door opened. We got here just after Albert came running out.”

Nodding, she sat back on the bed, wrapping the blanket around her. She looked over at Finch, whose fingers were laced with Albert’s. “Hi Finch.”

“Hi Kat. Glad you’re okay.” He smiled, squeezing Albert’s hand.

Nodding, she looked at the men in the room, sighing. “Hey Al, can you go check with Maddie?”

He nodded, leaning over to kiss Finch before escaping out of the medical area.

Sighing, she kicked her legs, antsy with wanting to know what was keeping Spot. She figured the police would want to talk with him but he should be done by now. She felt Jack stand behind her with his hand on her shoulder. She knew it would be a long time before he would be able to have her out of his sight.

Albert’s face was stoic as he returned with a police officer. “Plums, this is Office Ramirez. He’d like to talk to us for a few minutes.”

“Katherine Kelly, sir. This is my husband Jack and our friends, Tony, Albert, and Patrick. Tony is Sean’s husband. Can you tell us what’s going on with Sean Conlon?” Plums sat up straight, trying to look more authoritative than she felt. Her heart plummeted into her stomach as he was introduced. Usually having a police office come talk to them was never a good thing.

Officer Ramirez shifted, pulling his hat off before looking at the same group of friends. “I was first through the doors when I saw Sean on the floor punching the gunman. Several officers took care of the gunman while I went over to Sean. I got him to his feet when he mumbled that he was dizzy and before I knew it, he had fainted.”

“Doctor White was in the vicinity and immediately started checking Sean. In the initial check, he had blood on the left side of his scrubs. Several nurses and Dr White loaded him onto a gurney and rushed him upstairs to surgery.” Officer Ramirez’s face was grime as he relayed the information. Race gasped, processing the information. “If you’d like, I will escort you up to the surgery floor where you can wait?”

Kat sat back as the words hit her. She looked over at Race, who staggered a bit, only for Albert’s arm to wrap around his waist. “That would be great. But I have one other question - was anyone killed today?”

The officer paused. He was conflicted on how much he should actually tell them. “There were two nurses and an orderly that were killed. There were several that were injured by the stray bullets.”

Tears crowded Kat’s eyes as she thought about her coworkers and their families. Hanging her head, she let a sob out as someone put their arms around her. She looked up at Race whose face was tight with a mix of emotions as he hugged her. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked at Officer Ramirez. “I’ll need a few minutes to talk with some of my colleagues but after that, can you escort us upstairs?”

“Absolutely ma’am. There will be a police officer outside the waiting room just for some extra protection. And we will need to speak with you and Mr. DaSilva at some point.” The office said, as Kat nodded.

She pushed the blanket off of her before she looked at Jack. Leaning up, she gave him a quick kiss and hugged Race before walking out into the still mayhem scene.

Maddie came up and gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay. Any word on Spot?”

“He’s in surgery but that’s all I know. We’re going to head up to the surgical waiting room. Can you let the head honchos know?” Plums asked, giving the young nurse a look, as she looked around the mayhem of police officers, nurses, and patients.

Maddie quickly nodded. “I can do that. Do you want me to have food sent up?”

“Thanks, that would be nice since all of us just want a status update.” She smiled at Maddie.

“Consider it done. Just let us know when he’s out and doing okay?” She asked, as Plums quickly agreed before going back to the medical area.

Making sure they had everything, Kat gave Officer Ramirez a look as he led them through the eerie empty halls of the Emergency Room to the elevators. Katherine moved quickly, not wanting to be reminded of what had happened there just a short while ago. The group was silent as they got on the elevators, watching the numbers slowly rise up to level 8, the surgical floor.

Several police officers were already waiting outside of the waiting room as they stepped off the elevator. Kat led the group into the room, where a couple of styrofoam containers were on a table along with two sets of scrubs. “If you need anything, my officers will be outside. When you’re ready to talk to us, just let us know.”

“Thank you for everything. Let us get changed and get some food, then at least I’ll be ready to talk.” Kat told him before she looked at Albert, who nodded.

Officer Ramirez gave her a slight smile before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

She watched Albert and Finch walk over to the food as Jack and Race hovered near her. She smiled weakly at them both before picking up a pair of scrubs and walking over to the bathroom to change. Not wanting to see the scrubs she had on ever again, she threw them into the trash before joining the men in the waiting room. As the door closed behind her, she pulled her hair down, wanting her hair to be done, instead of up in a ponytail like it normally was when she was on shift.

Jack and Race had styrofoam containers balanced on their knees as they ate. Finch and Albert were throwing theirs away.

“There’s a sandwich and mac and cheese there for you.” Jack motioned over to the table as he continued to eat.

Nodding, she sat at the table, immediately opening the mac and cheese container and eagerly eating the cheesy goodness. “Any word?”

Shakes of heads were her answer as she sighed and banged her head against the wall. She knew she should go downstairs to get hers and Spot’s stuff but she just didn’t have the energy.

Her eyes darted around the room. Apart from the eerie quietness, the people in the room were okay. She just wished she could find out what was up with Spottie and why it was taking so long. Her brain kicked into medical mode and she wondered how serious Spot’s injuries really were.

“Kat?” Jack broke her train of thoughts by softly calling her name. She raised an eyebrow at him. “The police are ready to talk to you if you are.”

Nodding, she quickly threw away her trash, grabbing a water bottle before she walked out of the room, ready to be done with the day.

Jack looked at Race who was twiddling with his hands, looking absolutely lost. “Race?”

“Yea Jack?” He asked, looking up from playing with his wedding band.

“I know it’s a stupid question but you doing okay? Do you need anything?” He asked.

Race shrugged, sighing. “I just want to lay eyes on him and make sure he’s okay. My mind keeps playing the what if game and it won’t stop until I can see him.”

“Do you want me to have momma bring up the girls?” Jack asked, knowing Kat would want to see Addie sooner rather than later.

Race was torn. On the one hand, it would be good to hold Mack until he knew about Spot; on the other, the little girl would want to explore the unfamiliar place and Race didn’t know if he could be patient with her as his nerves were already frayed. “As much as I would love to say yes, she’s better off with momma at the house.”

Jack nodded. “Do you want to play cards?”

Race loved his brother but he could slug him at the moment. He understood what Jack was trying to do but he just wanted to know how the hell Spot was doing. “No Jack. I’m fine. Just anxious to hear how Spot’s doing.”

Silence fell over the room as Race began to day dream. He thought back to earlier that morning. Did he even say he loved Spot as he said goodbye to him? Did he say have a good day or that he’d text him later? Race let his head fall backwards as it collided with the wall. Tears crowded his eyes at the lack of updates and knowledge of what the hell was going on.

Race wasn’t going to lie. It was painful to see Jack and Kat along with Albert and Finch reunite as he sat there awaiting the news of his husband. Race just prayed to whoever that Spot was okay and he would be back by his side soon.

His eyes met the clock on the wall. 1:35. Just over two hours since he heard the news about an active shooter at the hospital and his heart damn near stopped.

Pulling out his phone, he noticed there was a 40 in the top corner of his messages. People had been contacting him to find out if Spot was working and if he was okay. Race just didn’t have the heart to reply to any of them. The only one he opened was from momma as she had sent a photo of Kenzie sleeping. He smiled slightly before locking his phone and putting it back in his pocket.

The opening of the door caught his attention as a nurse slipped through. “I’m Maeve. Is this the family of Sean Conlon?”

Nodding, Race looked at the young nurse with a pleading look. “I’m his husband. Is he out of surgery?”

“I was in the operating room. The doctor is just finishing up surgery and will be in shortly.” Maeve tight lipped smiled at them.

Race cleared his throat. “Is he okay?”

“I’m sorry but the doctor will be out shortly.” She apologized as she slipped out of the room.

Jack stood, stretching his back. “I’ll go let Kat know. Anyone need anything?”

Everyone shook their heads, watching him leave the room. Race tapped his feet, a renewed energy knowing that soon he’d have some answers and maybe he could see Spot sooner rather than later.

Kat joined Jack as they came back into the room. Before she took a seat, she held something out to Race. “I had the police collect his belongings from downstairs. He has quite a lot of missed calls and texts.”

Race accepted the phone and Spot’s canvas bag with a nod. He didn’t go through it, and merely pocketed the phone. “How was your talk with the police?”

“Okay. They just wanted to make sure they had all their ducks in a row. They’re going to want to talk to Spot and you, Albert.” She directed her last words to him as he nodded, fingers laced with Finch’s.

“It might be a few days before Spot’s up for it.” Race gave his sister-in-law a look.

She quickly nodded, looking at him. “The police are well aware of that fact. His doctors will have to clear it before he is able to do so. Plus he’ll have us by his side when he does talk to them.”

The door opened once more as they all looked up. “Doctor Leighton.”

“Katherine, I’m glad you’re doing okay.” He gave her a side hug as he turned to the other four. “I’m Doctor Leighton, I did Spot’s surgery.”

“This is Tony, Sean’s husband. My husband Jack. You know Albert and his husband Finch.” Kat made the introductions. “How’s Spot?”

Doctor Leighton nodded at all of them before taking a seat. “Spot’s okay. He’s in recovery at the moment. It was tough and go for a while. He had a bullet hit him on his left side. We ended up having to remove his spleen but he lost a lot of blood. We’re currently giving him blood transfusions to try to replenish what was lost.”

“Will he make a full recovery? Can he live without his spleen?” Race asked, looking between Kat and the doctor.

The doctor nodded his head. “Yes, he will make a full recovery and at this point, we don’t see any cause of concern. We’re waiting for him to wake up. And yes, he will be fine to live without his spleen.”

“What are your concerns for him in the next 48 hours?” Kat asked, as Race was glad she asked because he didn’t know what else to ask.

Dr. Leighton sighed. “You know the concerns, Katherine. Since the spleen is so instrumental in fighting infections, I’m a bit more concerned with him catching infections going forward. He will need to make sure he’s up to date on all of his vaccines after he’s discharged.”

“So I should be more concerned when he comes down with a cold?” Race piped up as the doctor nodded.

Kat nodded. “Yes, especially in the next year as his immune system adjusts.”

“When can we see him?” Race asked, his toes tapping anxiously, just wanting to lay eyes on his husband.

Dr. Leighton looked at Race, smiling softly. “Give us about 20 minutes to get him moved to a room then you can see him.”

“Thank you Dr. Leighton.” Kat stood, shaking his hand as the rest of them did the same. He gave them a tight smile before he left them alone.

“Well he was helpful.” Race choked out as Jack Finch, and Albert both snorted.

Kat shook her head. “He’s a brilliant surgeon but he’s got little bedside manner. I’d request him in a heartbeat, a thousand times over some of the surgeons in this hospital.”

Race nodded, trusting her 1000% with anything medical related. Standing up, he started pacing, just wanting the time to go by fast so he could see Spot. “Race?”

He stopped, looking at Kat who softly called his name. “Do you need anything?”

“Just to see my damn husband.” Race sighed. “Sorry but I can’t think of anything else until I lay eyes on him.”

Kat nodded, as she couldn’t imagine if that was Jack in surgery and wanting to see him to make sure he was okay. “You heard Dr. Leighton, Race. He’s okay but I understand your frustration. Do you want us to hang back when you first see him?”

“Do you mind?” Race asked, his voice small, not wanting to give away how scared he truly was.

She stood, pulling him into a hug, running her hand up and down his back. “Of course not. You should be the first to see him. We’ll hang around while you go to visit him. Al still needs to talk to the police so he can do that while you go see him.”

The door opened and the nurse from earlier stood there. “We’ve got him settled into his room. We still have him sedated but you can go ahead and see him.”

Kat nudged Race. “Go see our boy and give him our love. We’ll hang back and see him later, alright?”

Nodding, Race hesitantly stepped forward as he followed the nurse down the hall to a room in the corner. “I’ll be right at the nurse’s desk in case you need anything.”

She propped open the door as he silently walked inside. There were two IVs, one going in each hand, one fluid of clear liquid, the other full of blood. He stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the step up, two chairs, one on each side of the bed, along with a table and two chairs off in the corner. Stepping around the bed, he sat in one of the chairs, and being careful of the IV, lacing his hand with Spot’s.

“Hey Spot.” He whispered, torn between waking him up and letting him sleep. Race had always loved watching his husband sleep, due to the fact when he was awake, he was never still. Spot was always moving around, unable to really settle unless he was sick or sleepy. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re some kind of hero. You saved a lot of people today, Spottie.”

Time, Spot only needed time. Time to heal, time to recover, time to wake up. “I know you want to sleep but I really want to see your pretty brown eyes. It’s been a pretty rough afternoon and I need to tell you I love you, because I’m not sure I actually said it this morning.”

“I’m not leaving, Spot. Wild horses couldn’t pull me away.” Race promised, squeezing his hand. “Kat, Jack, Albert, and Finch are out in the waiting room. Momma is at the house with Mack and Addie. As soon as you wake up, I’ll get her to bring the two of them up to see you.”

He continued to ramble about random things, always being told that patients could hear when they were unconscious. He didn’t want Spot to be alone and promised to fill the quiet room with his cheerful chatter.

Race held his breath, knowing that Spot would wake up with time but he wasn’t the most patient person. Squeezing his hand, he felt himself relaxing in the chair for the first time since arriving at the hospital. Race kicked his feet up onto the bed and let his head fall back to the back of the chair, listening to the constant beeping from the monitor, his eyes closing as he dozed off.

Kat’s POV

She watched Race leave the room, wanting to join him as he saw Spot but knowing Race needed some time to adjust to having Spot in the hospital bed. Standing up, she felt antsy from waiting so she paced the room as she answered texts from family and friends concerned about her.

“Kat?” Looking up from her phone, she looked over at Jack who had concern written all over his face. “You okay?”

She sighed, walking over to him and sitting beside him. “Just antsy. I’m glad Race gets to go see him but I want to check up on him as well.”

Pressing a kiss to her head, Jack nodded. “I know. Despite our rough start, Spot is like a brother to me and it’s hard when we don’t know what the next few days or even weeks will look like. But we have to go along with the doctor who seems optimistic that he’ll be alright in the long run.”

Kat reached over and laced her fingers with Jack’s. “We’ll see him soon. Let’s give Race some time with him.”

She looked at Finch and Albert and smiled sadly at them. “You two doing okay?”

“Just hanging out until we can see him.” Albert looked as worried as she felt. “You two hanging out for the night?”

Jack shrugged, giving them a look. “Depends on what Race wants us to do. We’re kinda letting him dictate what we’re doing. I just checked in with momma and she said the girls are down for their afternoon naps.”

She didn’t get a chance to answer as the door opened slowly as an older man poked his head in. Standing up, she weakly smiled at him as surprise was evident in her voice. “Dr. Weasley.”

“Katherine, they told me you were up here. I just wanted to check in with you, Spot, and Albert to see how you were doing.” He said as she nodded.

Motioning for him to come in, she sighed. “Spot had emergency surgery and he’s in a room down the hall. This is my husband Jack and Albert’s husband, Finch. Guys, this the director of the ER, Dr. Weasley. We’ve just been hanging out here waiting to see Spot after his surgery.”

Dr. Weasley nodded. “I heard that he had to have his spleen removed - he’s a tough nut and will be okay. I’ve come to tell you that you and Albert have the next week off. There will be a check-in before you’re allowed back into the hospital, per guidelines. As for Spot, we’ll take it day by day with him and when he’s cleared to return.”

“Is there anything we need to do in the meantime?” Albert came by Kat’s side as he was curious what the requirement was going to consist of.

Dr. Weasley smiled at them. “You’ll both need to see one of the hospital’s trauma specialists before you’re released to come back. You will also need to take the mandatory 5 days off before you step back in here.”

“How long will the ER be shut down for?” Kat asked, knowing it was only one of three emergency rooms within the city.

Dr. Weasley shook his head. “It’s going to be shut down for tonight but obviously the hospital doesn’t want it down for too long. They’re hoping to have it back up and running tomorrow morning.”

Frowning, Kat shook her head. “It doesn’t seem right. There were people killed in that ER earlier today and tomorrow it’s back to business like their lives don’t even matter.”

“I agree with you Plums but you know how the head honchos are.” Dr. Weasley agreed as he shook his head.

She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “It’s just not right. But I make pennies compared to them and I know nothing.”

“Keep up that attitude Plums and you’ll be alright.” He smiled, looking between her and Albert. “Do either of you need anything?”

Albert shook his head with a smirk. “Million bucks, new scrubs, better hospital food?”

“Noted but not sure what I can pull out of my magic hat.” Dr. Weasley looked between the two of them with a shake of his head. “You have my number if you need anything. I’m glad you two are okay.”

Watching him leave, Kat shook her head as the door shut gently behind him. “That was nice of him to check up on us.”

“You know it was because we’re not down at the ER with the rest of the staff.” Albert told her with sarcasm laced in his voice. “He knew it would’ve gotten around the ER if he didn’t come check up on us and Spot.”

Kat nodded. “True. I’m going to check up on Race. You guys staying here?”

Albert agreed while Finch and Jack stayed behind, letting the two of them go. Her shoes squeaked as she walked down the hallway. Pushing open the door, her shoulders immediately relaxed as she took in Spot’s appearance in the bed. A noise drew her attention away from Spot and to the chair beside him where Race was snoring away.

Stepping up to the bed, she looked Spot over as his quiet breathes matched Race’s deep snores. Albert shook his head as he reached up to wipe his eyes before taking Katherine’s hand and squeezing it. “He looks better than I thought he would.”

“What did you imagine?” Kat asked, looking over at him with a smirk.

Albert shrugged. “Bruises, black eyed, ruggedness. You know, someone who just got into a fight but he actually just looks normal.”

“Excuse you, I’m ruggedly handsome.” A voice drew their attention from each other to the bed. A smirk was on Spot’s face as he looked at two friends.

Kat’s eyes immediately watered with tears as she looked at him. “Spot.”

“I’m sore . . . what happened?” He asked as he tried to move but felt instant pain.

Albert stepped up, giving him a look. “You had surgery. They removed your spleen due to a bullet. You fainted in the ER just after the police came to take the gunman away. Race was really worried about you and had been in here for about 20 minutes before he must’ve fallen asleep.”

“Is that what that train sound is?” Spot asked, craning his head to look over to Race, who quietly snored away.

“Yes. He’s been worried sick about you.” Kat smiled. “Do you want me to wake him up?”

Spot shook his head. “Nah, let him sleep. Who’s got Kenzie?”

“Momma’s got her and Addie. Last we knew, they were taking their afternoon naps. Jack, Race, and Finch have been here most of the afternoon. They watched Albert run out.” Kat explained.

Spot nodded, as he bit his lip as a wave of pain coursed through his side. “Anyone killed?”

“Two nurses and an orderly.” Kat frowned. “But thanks to you, no one else was killed. There’s a few injuries but you saved a lot of people, Spot, including Nicole and her daughter.”

Spot shook his head. “I about died when you texted me that you were in the room with them. I knew I had to draw him away from the door in order for you to escape.”

“I’m thankful that you did but I almost passed out when I saw you slugging him.” Kat shook her head. “You’re an idiot Sean but I do love you.”

“Love you too Kat.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Do you want to go get Jack and Finch? I don’t know how much longer I’ll be awake.”

Albert rushed from the room, leaving Kat and Spot alone with the sleeping Race. “He doing okay?”

“Worried about you but he’s been alright.” She smiled. “He has your phone but hasn’t done anything with it. I got your stuff from downstairs.”

Spot nodded. “Thank you, Kat for everything. Any idea how long I’m in here for?”

“Dr. Leighton didn’t say but I’m sure he’ll be around to see you later.” Kat shrugged. “I’m guessing in a few days you'll be released. Albert and I are on mandatory leave for the next week and we have to see one of the trauma specialists before we’re allowed back in the ER.”

Spot didn’t say anything as the door was opened as Jack and Finch stepped into the room with Albert behind them. Kat stepped back, letting the two talk with him. Albert came over and wrapped his arm around her. “Counting your blessings?”

“Something like that.” She smiled, laying her head on his shoulder. “Just really glad my family is okay. Really glad my closest coworkers are alright. Sad that we lost some good people but happy that everyone else is okay.”

Albert shook his head. “Love you Kat.”

“Love you too Albie.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Are you and Finch heading home?”

Nodding, Albert sighed. “I just want to go home and put today out of my mind. I have a feeling we’re in for a few rough days.”

“Agreed. We’ll be around if you need someone to talk to.” She smiled. “I’m only a phone call away, okay?”

He nodded, a ragged sigh left his mouth. He watched Jack and Finch joke with Spot as he started to doze off. Once he was asleep, Finch and Albert made their way out, leaving Kat and Jack with Race and Spot.

“What do you want to do? I’m sure you could use a shower and some Addie cuddles.” Jack suggested as he looked between the two sleeping men in the room.

Kat stretched, a groan escaping her mouth. “You’re probably right but I just don’t feel right just walking away after everything we’ve been through this afternoon.”

“Kat, you’re not walking away.” Jack gave her a look. “How about I take you home, you can shower, cuddle Addie, then we can come back up here and bring them food? Does that sound like a plan?”

Nodding, she pushed off the way, pressing a kiss to both Spot and Race’s foreheads before walking out of the room, hand laced with Jack’s.

An Hour Later

The rustling of bedsheets was the sound he heard as he slowly woke up. Cracking open his eyes, it took a minute to figure out where he was. The hospital, active shooter, Spot surgery all came rushing back to him.

Sitting up in the uncomfortable chair, he cracked his back as he looked at the bed. The most beautiful sight he had seen was staring back at him. Spot, with a smirk on his face, and eyes opened as he stared at Race. “Hi.”

“After all this time and scaring the literal shit out of me, all you can say is hi.” Race was out of the chair and sitting on the side of the bed smirking. “Hi yourself. How are you feeling?”

Spot grimaced. “Sore, really sore. But other than that, okay. Kat and Albie filled me in on everything that had happened when they were here earlier.”

“You were awake and they didn’t wake me up?” Race frowned, giving Spot a look.

Squeezing their linked hands, Spot looked Race in the eyes. “I asked them not to as you were in a deep sleep. I’m sorry I didn’t wake you but I needed to know what had happened.”

“You doing okay, Spottie?” Race asked, worry in his voice.

Spot sighed loudly. “To be honest, I don’t know how I feel. I’m angry that someone interrupted the safe space the ER was. I’m upset that I lost coworkers. But I think I’m mostly grateful that Albie and Kat are both okay and safe.”

Leaning forward, Race captured Spot’s lips in a kiss. “I love you and it’s completely okay that you’re not okay. There were a lot of emotions involved in today but I’ll be here for you as we go through the next couple of days, weeks, and months. Kat and Al aren’t going anywhere and they’ll be here for you, when I can’t.”

“Love you, Racer.” Spot smiled slightly. “Also, you did tell me that earlier this morning before I left the house.”

A light blush raised on Race’s cheeks. “You heard me?”

“Yeah . . . but it was a big foggy so I couldn’t actually tell if you said that or if it was my mind playing tricks on me.” Squeezing his hand, Spot sighed. “I kept kicking myself that I didn’t have my phone on me. I only wanted to get you a message that I was okay and that I loved you. I’m just glad I have the opportunity to tell you that now.”

“Love you Spottie.”

“Love you too Racer.”

Later that Evening

He found himself sitting up in bed, a course of antibiotics and pain medication surging through his body. He was happily slurping on a strawberry milkshake while Race was cracking jokes with Jack. Kat was watching her husband and Race with an amused smile on her face. A few of their coworkers had stopped by to check up on them both, not staying long but to say their thanks to Spot for being a hero.

“You okay, Plums?” He asked over the crackle of Race’s laughter at something Jack had just told him.

Looking up from her fast food chicken nuggets, she smiled. “I’m fine. I got to cuddle Addie and Kenzie, take a shower, and pet Basil for a little bit. I had a good cry in the shower.”

“Promise me, you’ll text if you need anything?” Spot gave her a look, knowing full well that she was just as likely as him to keep things bottled up.

Nodding, she smiled. “Of course. I’ve been made to promise by Jack, Albert, Race, and now you. I scheduled my appointment for the trauma specialist for next week.”

“Good. I’m proud of you for scheduling it out already.” Spot said, giving her a look that he knew what she was thinking.

She couldn’t say another word as there was a knock on the door. Kat raised an eyebrow to Spot, silently asking if he knew who it could be. He shook his head, as she got up and answered the door. She smiled at the guests as she reached out and grabbed Addie. She pushed open the door as Momma walked in, Kenzie in her arms.

“Momma!” Spot sat up and grinned despite the pain on his side. Race stood, taking Kenzie from her arms before kissing her cheek loudly. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought it might be a good idea for you two to see your daughter. Addie is just along for the ride, though I thought her parents could see her too.” Medda grinned, watching Jack take Addie from Kat’s arms. “Besides, I wanted to check up on you to make sure you were okay.”

Spot grinned at the woman who had been the replacement momma in his life. Ever since he and Race started dating, Medda had taken him in as one of her own. “Doing alright momma. Will be laid up for a little bit as I recover but I’ll be just fine in the long run.”

“Good.” She patted his foot. “You make sure that son of mine takes care of you, waits on you hand and foot.”

Race, cuddling Kenzie, looked up at his mother with an insulted look. “Hey! As if I wouldn’t wait on him hand and foot! I take offense to that.”

Laughter sounded around the room as Medda shook her head. “I’m just thankful you, Spot, and Katherine are okay. I checked in with Albert and Finch earlier and they’re doing as well as could be expected. I’m just glad all my babies are okay and here with us tonight.”

Kat looked around the room, locking eyes with each of the people in it, giving them a smile. “I’m glad today is almost done and tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow we start to move on from today and though we'll never forget, we will start to move on.”

Kat and Spot locked eyes. Though they had always been close since college, it seemed their bond had dug a little deeper. And she smiled, there was no one she’d rather have in her corner than Spot Conlon, as he would always have her back, just like she always would have his.

Feedback would be wonderful and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

[mediocre--writing]

I saw your plea and knew this was my time to shine 😤 could you do a Neville long bottom x reader fic where the reader is confident and outgoing and he has a secret crush? I feel like it’s borderline cliche at this rate but I cant get enough of the trope 😫😫😫 I love love love your blog by the way!

Summary: Neville feels insecure compared to his longterm crush, Y/n.

Word Count: 1605

Warnings: none

Neville was shy.

This was not a secret to anyone in Hogwarts.

He blushed and hid his face at any attention, he didn’t speak loudly or draw attention to himself, and he most definitely didn’t make an effort to have large groups of friends.

But he admired those who did, Y/n, for example, was someone he enjoyed watching flutter around the great hall during meals, talking to anyone in any house, regardless of what year they were in.

She was spectacular in every way.

Her smile was unparalleled, her confidence shone brighter then anyone’s, and she thrived in large groups.

She was so incredible because she was nothing like him. Nothing compared to how pathetic he felt when he’d watch her laugh across the room, nothing like how he was unable to speak to anyone about anything, since his interests were limited and he feared other’s opinions rather than just living as he wished.

He felt the most inferior to her when they began the DA in 5th year.

Of course she would be invited, everyone loved her and she was close to Hermione grade-wise, so she would probably excel in learning new spells and dueling anyone.

Neville loved watching her talk with the other members, never catching her eye, because who on Earth would look at him when there were so many other options?

As of now, she was giggling with the twins, who were betting on Ron and Hermione’s duel. Her eyes were sparkling in the soft lights of the Room of Requirement and she felt like a magnet, drawing eyes to her without trying.

Neville was so lost in his trance that he didn’t realize that Harry had called for everyone to join in.

He was shaken out of his trance, however, when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he turned to face Harry, who was looking around the room for someone to practice with neville.

Because again, who would want him?

Neville felt like dying before he heard someone respond to Harry’s request for anyone without a partner.

But not just anyone.

Y/n… ‘s friend, Pepper, he believes her name is. She’s in Gryffindor, though, maybe a year older than him.

Pepper was a bit more on the shy side, like Neville, but she still hung around in large groups, with Y/n, and though Neville had never searched for her explicitly, he knew of her from watching Y/n.

It wasn’t that awful.

Really!

Neville, as bad as he was at spell-casting, was better than Pepper was, though he wasn’t sure if she was really trying all that hard in the first place.

The meeting was over sooner than he’d expected, though a part of him felt like he’d been there for years.

“So, Neville, what do you do?”

Neville looked up at Pepper, who was twiddling with her wand while watching him with a small smile, “Do you play quidditch or anything, I know you’re not on the Gryffindor team, but do you play?”

“I’ve never really had much luck with brooms,” Neville blushed, of course, “It looks fun, but it’s a bit stressful, if you ask me,”

Pepper giggled, “Well you should try to fly, you know it’s really exhilarating once you get the hang of it.”

“I guess,”

It was getting awkward now.

“My friend can teach you, she’s really great, on her house team and everything! She’s a great chaser and I’m sure she’d love to show you!”

Neville felt cornered. To be completely honest, he never wanted to ride a broom again, but Pepper seemed so excited about him doing it he felt bad saying no.

“Uhh… sure, I guess?”

“Perfect!” Pepper said, a bit loudly for Neville’s taste as a few eyes were on them now. “What are you doing tomorrow? It’s a Hogsmeade weekend but do you think you could come to the Quidditch pitch around 2-ish?”

“Oh sure,” Neville agreed, though he wasn’t sure why.

So he’d made a bed he had to lie in.

What the hell was he thinking?

As he walked down the trail from Hogsmeade, he was thinking of ways that this could go horribly wrong, he could fall, or trip, or make a fool of himself. But on the plus side, if he fell, he may just die then and there, which wouldn’t be quite as embarrassing.

Neville was trying his best to talk himself into it, though it was hard, for there was no plus side or silver lining that he could see.

When he’d gotten down to the pitch, he’d noticed a girl sitting in the middle of the field, two brooms next to her.

Once he’d gotten closer, he’d felt his heart shoot down to his feet.

It was Y/n.

The perfect, beautiful, absolutely amazing Y/n.

As if she could hear his hesitation, she turned, but had a look of surprise on her face as she took in who was standing there.

“Oh, Neville,” he didn’t like the way she sounded slightly disappointed, “I didn’t know it was you! How are you doing today?”

She was smiling, but he felt like it was fake. Like she had no motive to be here. It was probably a dare and she had to be nice to him and get him to embarrass himself.

“You ok?”

He looked up at her to see her eyebrows scrunched together in worry.

“Yeah, yeah,” He nodded and recollected his thoughts, “I’ve had a good day, and you?”

“It was alright, kind of a rough morning, if I’m being honest, but I hope it gets better from here.”

And it did.

It wasn’t nearly as stressful as Neville had been anticipating, and all his negative thoughts had begun to fade as he got more relaxed, both with Y/n and flying.

By the time the sky darkened, he’d practically been a natural, flying around the pitch with ease.

They began packing their things, Y/n grabbing the brooms and Neville got his sweater that he was wearing before he got too hot.

Walking back to the castle was silent, but nice and relaxed, no pressure and just two friends walking along the grounds.

“I need to be honest with you, Neville,” Y/n said abruptly as she turned to face him before they walked into the castle.

He knew it. It was too good to be true. She was going to admit that she was messing with him and hung out with him on a dare or something equally mortifying for him.

“...Okay?”

“I like you,” She sputtered out. “Like, like like you and I had Pepper come up to you yesterday to see what kind of person you are because I’ve had a crush on you since first year but you always seemed to be independent and you didn’t talk to many people but I always thought you were cute. And when she said she had wanted to take flying lessons today I was confused but agreed, then you showed up and I had the best time.

“I understand if you don’t like me back, but I just thought you should know.”

Neville was…

He didn’t really know what he was.

Shocked, for sure.

A little confused, to be honest.

Absolutely elated at the news, though.

“Are you serious? You actually like me? I didn’t even know you knew who I was!”

“You’re kidding, right?” She threw her head back as she laughed, “I stare at you all the time, it’s actually kinda sad that I haven’t made a move yet.”

“You stare at me?”

“No!” She shouted suddenly, “Yes, but not in a creepy way, I promise.”

“I stare at you too, sometimes,” Neville admitted with a blush.

“You’re really pretty, Nev,” Y/n commented as she brushed a few hairs out of his face, staring into his eyes.

“Thank you,” He chuckled, ducking his head down in embarrassment before she lifted his chin so they were eye-to-eye. “I think you’re stunning as well.”

She smiled, a genuine smile that he wished to see every day for the rest of his life.

She began to lean in, their eyes slowly closing as they kissed, and Neville swore his knees gave out, but he powered through and tried to kiss back without it being too awkward or doing something wrong.

It was a moment before they pulled apart, but he had never felt that happy before in his life.

Y/n agreed. She’d been silently pining over Neville for far too long and he was everything and more than she’d ever imagined.

“We should do this again,” Neville commented.

“The kissing or the date?” He smiled at her with love in his eyes, “Cause I’d like to do both, if you would?”

When Neville had walked back to his dormitory, still in a daze, Ron, Harry, Seamus, and Dean had all given him strange looks.

Neville flopped onto his bed and had yet to realize that there was a small, pinkish-red lipstick kiss on his cheek from when he’d said goodbye to Y/n.

The boys, however, saw it the second he walked through the door, and bombarded him, but refused to believe him when he’d said that he’d gone on a date with, and kissed, the Y/n L/n.

Though, the boys were shocked to see that as Neville sat down at his spot in the Great Hall, she had come over and placed a quick peck on his cheek before sitting next to him and chattering away as if they were old friends.

Who’d have thought, Neville got the girl.  

[svnflowervol666]

reader accidentally eating harry’s edibles🤭

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: drug use, fluff

Harry came home to a quiet house. He had just returned to London from a small, brief tour across America and was looking forward to doing absolutely nothing for the next few weeks. There was still the transitioning period, where he had to attend the debriefings and wrap up his press runs before he could actually do nothing, which was what he had come back from just now. All he wanted was to unwind and decompress with his girl that he missed dearly while he was away. Maybe order some take away and cozy up for a marathon of their favorite show that they always watched together. Something peaceful, something easy that harshly contrasts the high energy, chaotic nature that comes with touring.

But this type of peaceful, the peaceful he walked into, was quite different than what he’d invisioned in his head. He searched for her all throughout the downstairs of the house. She wasn’t in the living room tidying up and straightening the photos of her and Harry that lined the walls. She wasn’t in the laundry room washing and folding Harry’s tour clothes like she always does when he returns home. She wasn’t in the kitchen either, but he quickly realized that she had been at some point due to the empty carton of, as Mitch calls them, “special vitamins” knocked over and discarded on the marble countertop.

This sent Harry into somewhat of a panic. He wasn’t sure how many of the gummies were left in the package, but it was certainly empty. Harry knew her tolerance for marijuana was low, and that no matter how many of them she’d actually ingested, she was more than likely knocked completely on her ass wherever she were in the house. For a split second, he was angry with himself for even bringing them home in the first place. They were just something he indulged in to pass time whenever life on the road got a bit sluggish or boring, and he’d happened to have a few packets leftover after a trip to the dispensary in California so he decided to sneak them home in his suitcase. He guessed the dark, back corner of the large pantry in his kitchen still wasn’t a good enough hiding place to keep his girlfriend from finding them when she found her sweet tooth aching for some relief.

He quickly checked the entryway table that the two kept their keys in by the front door to see if she was home, and he exhaled a sigh of relief upon seeing her key ring tossed halfhazardly into the small dish. It was when he made it about halfway up the stairs in his London flat that he heard any sign of life from her. The muffled, gentle melody of a familiar song could be heard coming from behind the bedroom door.

As if he feared he would walk in on a horrific sight, Harry creaked the door open inch by inch, only peeking into the room at first. His worry became  obsolete when he stuck his entire head around the door, grasping the wood with his fingers curled around the lip, and he found her lying face up on their bed with a hazy smile plastered clean across her face.

Her hair stuck out in all directions on top of the comforter in a way that Harry would describe as an angelic halo. She was dressed in only one of Harry’s vintage t-shirts and her cheeky, lace underwear that had been a gift from Harry for Christmas this past year. The shirt she had on was covered in rips and tears and barely clung onto her shoulders, but it was always her favorite to lounge around the house in. It smelled the most like him, she’d told him one time. To which Harry officially gave up ever trying to get his hands on it ever again. Plus, it looked better on her, he thought to himself.

Spinning in the corner of the room was one of her favorite records, crackling and buzzing softly as the needle grazed over every dip and divot of the carefully crafted vinyl. Harry had also gotten her this and it had made her so happy that she cried tears of joy when she realized Harry had managed to get his hands on the rarest press of the album. He could hear her humming along to the tune, staring off deep into space at the ceiling fan above where she was laying.

“Baby?” Harry called for her as he approached her calmly and quietly as if she were a jungle cat that he did not want to risk disturbing.

She perked up at the sound of his voice and when her eyes met his, she greeted him with the warmest, welcoming smile Harry had ever seen. It was then that he saw her bloodshot eyes and realized just how far gone she really was.

“You’re home,” she spoke tenderly and almost barely audible over the already quiet music.

“I am. How’re ye’ feelin’?” Harry asked her as he lovingly placed his hand over her knee when he sat down beside her on the bed.

“Reaaaally good.”

Harry’s question sent her into a fit of giggles, ones that she could not suppress and took over her like wildfire. It made Harry chuckle as well.

“Don’t be mad, H. I accidentally ate some of those gummies you hid in the kitchen. I didn’t even realize what they were until I’d already eaten them all. I was just really hungry and didn’t wanna call you, cos I knew you’d freak out. But I’m fiiiiine! Pinky swear.”

She was talking like she was beyond petrified that Harry would scold her for what she’d done, but her tone suggested that she couldn’t have cared less about what happened next.

Her rambles made Harry’s signature dimples show themselves even more. He knew she’d be fine, just as she’d reassured Harry. She was certainly more off the rails than he thinks that even he’s ever been in his life, but he was with her now to take care of her and be her babysitter so there was no harm in letting her ride out her high.

“I know ye’ did, pet. Left the carton on the counter. ‘S alright. How many of ‘em did ye’ eat?” Harry then laid back on the mattress and propped himself up to one side so he could begin rubbing soothing circles on his girlfriend’s back with his skilled fingers.

She hummed, “Don’t know. Maybe like five? They tasted so good I couldn’t stop. We need more of those.”

Harry laughed again.

“Not so sure about tha’ one. Think you’ve had your fair share of ‘em for a while now.”

The lazy whine and grunt that left her chest at Harry’s words made him roll his eyes at her, but not before he leaned over to kiss her forehead sweetly. She chuckled at the tingling sensation left behind by the beginnings of Harry’s stubble grazing over the bridge of her nose.

“Ye’ look pretty wore out. They’re probably gettin’ the best of ye’ by now. Wanna go t’ bed?”

This elicited a yawn from his girlfriend, to which she nodded and shimmied closer towards him so she could burrow her body tightly against Harry’s chest.

“Only if you hold me. You’re warm.”

Harry responded to her touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world to him, curling his front around her so that their legs were intertwined and his hands had a good hold on the back of her head so he could play with her hair until she fell asleep in her hazy, debilitated state.

“Always, bubby.”

He waited until the drugs had knocked her out cold, humming along to the music that eventually stopped when the needle reached the end of the vinyl and petting her scalp gently. When he’d managed to wriggle his way out of her grasp, he quickly stripped himself of his clothes and grabbed an extra throw blanket before rejoining her in the middle of the bed. There was no use dragging her body up to the front of the bed and making her slide under the duvet. She was deadweight and he didn’t want to risk her waking up in a panic when she’d realize she was still significantly high off of the cannibus.

With his arm draped over her waist protectively and his chin nuzzled into the soft skin of her neck, Harry supposed maybe this was the type of peaceful he was hoping for when he came home earlier tonight.

[prismatica-the-strange]

A Week at Universal with Daniel Jackson (Modern AU)

Day 2

A/N: let's hit the Parks Campers! I won't be featuring Volcano Bay since I don't know it too well due to my water park anxiety!! This might also sound like a long Universal ad or trip advise so there’s also that.

Previous: Night 1

Warnings: Sex mentions(mostly alluding to the first part) (Under 18 Do Not Interact!!), Food Mention, Fluff, Possible Ride/attraction spoilers if you’ve never been to Universal

You wake up to butterfly kisses trailing from your wrist, up your collar bone and then lips lingering over yours

“Good morning, beautiful,” Daniel smiles before finally kissing you

“g’morning,”  you grin when he pulls away, “You ready for the parks?”

“In a bit,” He’ll cuddle back into your chest and you run your fingers through his hair, “had fun last night”

You hum in agreement, knowing there would be bruising from the night before’s activities, “Me too”

You kiss the top of his head and move to get out of bed

He’ll whine and try to pull you back into his arms, “No, no, no, come back”

“We’ve go a whole week for that Dr. Jackson,” You laugh, pulling one of the sheets with you to cover yourself

“But you look so exquisite in this light,” he’d try as you open one of your suitcases

You playfully toss a pair of boxers at him and he rolls his eyes before getting up to put them on

You feel his eyes wandering your skin when you let the sheet fall to the floor

“You’re staring,” You smile as you start pulling on clothes.

“I can’t help it,” He tells you, coming up behind you to rummage through the case of clothes.

Once you manage to get him into some decent clothes you both go down to the breakfast bar in the lobby, grabbing something quick to eat before heading out to the boat to City Walk

You took his hand and lead him off the boat

He’d squeeze your hand and won’t be able to help smiling at your excitement

It didn’t take long for you to get over the bridge and into Islands of Adventure (The best park in my opinion)

Assuming neither of you have been here before, you decide to go clockwise around the park

Making the first stop when you get through the Port of Entry is Seuss Landing, obviously aimed toward a younger audience, the Caro-Seuss-el is definitely worth a ride, but totally skippable

Then you get into Lost Continent, and you both think it would be fun to do Poseidon’s Fury (I fucking love the Character of Taylor!) as it is a nice easy start to the day

As an archeologist, Daniel find the attraction fun, and even though it’s an older show, the pyrotechnics and water features were cool

He takes a few pictures of you at the Mystic Fountain, one of which where you’re getting splashed

The Florida heat seems to melt away as you make your way into the snowy facade of Hogsmeade

If you’re a big Harry Potter fan and can’t wait until you’re in Diagon Alley to get your robes, then, after enjoying the beauty of Hogsmeade, you can stop into Dervish and Banges and pick some up

But if you plan on wearing them in park, I would recommend holding off, you can’t wear them on Hagrid’s Magical Creature Motorbike Adventure and you really shouldn’t pass up the chance to ride that

You also shouldn't get them wet and there are a handful of water rides you might want to ride

 Speaking of Hagrid’s Magical Creature Motorbike Adventure, you two get in line as soon as possible, and even then it’ll be at least an hour wait

But the que is well decorated the whole way onto the ride so you always have something interesting to look at

Daniel’s hands are either un yours or on your hips the whole time

You hear a voice behind you scoff ‘Honeymooners’ an you manage to catch them in time for them to roll their eyes at you

Daniel’s face heats up at the comment, but he chuckles and brings your hand up to his lips

The Coaster itself was an amazing ride, super fast and smooth

You might as well leave your things in the Hagrid’s locker and make your way to Forbidden Journey in the castle

Since you have express pass with your room key, and don’t have to wait for a locker you get on the ride

Now it’s time for shopping and butterbeer!

Daniel is either a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw, but since he’s a nerd that looks so nice in blue we’re gonna go with Ravenclaw

I mean look at himmm

He also really wants an Elder wand so when you stop at Olivander’s he get’s one and you get one of your choosing, both interactive of course

You do a few interactive stops and then stop at the Butterbeer cart

Butterbeer foam mustaches!!!

Butterscotch flavored kisses!!!!

And what better to go with Butterbeer than a Pumpkin Pastie from Honeydukes? Or maybe a cauldron cake? 🤔🤔

You also send a couple chocolate frogs back to the room for later

If you're looking for a more savory snack then maybe it's time to head to the next part of the park... Jurassic Park

The Watering Hole has a small selection of snack and lunch foods

Now that you're in the tropical jungles of Isla Nublar, maybe it's time to cool off with the Jurassic Park River Adventure

You and Daniel decide that if you're going on a water ride you might as well go all out, so you aim for front row seats in the raft

Well now that you're both soaking wet (😏😏) You're feeling more of a sit down meal for lunch

So you double back to lost continent for Mythos

Don't forget to make a wish in the indoor fountain, I'm pretty sure it's actually magic so make it a good one!

Normally it would be difficult to get a table as a walk up, but you luck out and get a small booth to yourselves

The cold AC is a nice break from the humidity, and for a little while you forget the constant running for your life from murderous aliens during your day job

You said something particularly funny and you couldn't help but marvel at the way his eyes crinkled with his laugh

You couldn't stop yourself from leaning over the table and kissing him

What's next?

Well, you wander back around to Jurassic park, maybe ride River Adventure again? Or perhaps it's time for the next ride?

That would be Kong!

If you're not a fan of small spaces, this que may not be your favorite. Daniel is definitely excited for this one, but will skip it if it gets to be too much.

Other wise, he'll be the one pulling you along, and he'd be buzzing with excitement,

And oh lord that Kong animatronic is beautiful!

It's been a bit and you guys have finally dried off, so time for some more water rides!

Ripsaw Falls? Get ready to get absolutely soaked. There is no escaping the water.

Well you're wet again so you might as well ride Bludo's

Maybe you should invest in a copule comic strip themed beach towels (I know I would) (but maybe that's because I really love beach towels)

The next land is Superhero Island (one of the best places in the world!)

Time to dry of with a ride on Dr Doom's fear fall!

If you can't do heights I would recommend skipping this one, but if you can hype yourself up enough to get on you should! The view is incredible.

Are you a fan of Spider-man? That ride is my absolute favourite! Hagrid's coming in a close 2nd.

With Express pass it's easy to get on a three times in a row, then you could go across the street and mr. Parker

There's only one ride left (I know I skipped flight of the hypogriff but I think that one is lackluster at best)

If you're up for a coaster with inversions and the such get right in line for the hulk

Stay tuned for date night in Night 2!

Taglist: @mysg1spacemonkey @sgcprometheus @malcolm-reeds-pineapple

Masterlist

[peggyrose19]

Gone

hehe I am back with another heart-wrenching story for you all. Who’s ready to cry?? *innocent smile* Wolfstar this time :) Not all of this follows canon, mainly because I was too lazy to get my book and look through it for continuity’s sake. You guys will live, right? It still makes sense. This is for the @hpbrokenhearts festival so, if I broke your heart or made you feel things (ew) leave a broken heart emoji in the comments!! Thank you all for reading! <3 tagging @donttouchmycarrots since she asked and @im-oknutzy-trash cause I want to torture her :) 

All Remus can hear is silence. 

Somewhere in him, he knows that Harry is screaming in his arms, knows that the battle is still happening around him.

But none of it is registering. 

It takes everything in him to not sprint forward. To not throw himself through the veil. The only thing holding him back is Harry, struggling against him, reaching out for his godfather. 

His godfather who is now gone.

The love of Remus’ life. 

Gone. 

 ~

He remembers the very first morning they woke up together. 

He’s not sure why it’s the first memory that surfaces. 

It’s their sixth year at Hogwarts. Remus crawls into his bed that night, broken and exhausted. He appears without a word, climbing in beside him and curling his body around him. Remus stares into steady silver eyes and immediately feels better. Without a word, he presses a kiss to Remus’ lips, and leans into him, pushing him gently against the mattress. Remus sinks into it, body heating up with each touch. Without saying a word, he gives Remus what he needs and Remus has never felt more loved.

They wake in the morning curled around each other, blankets tangled at their feet and Remus never wants to move. This is home, he thinks dimly, watching his sleeping face, feeling his warm breath on his neck, the arm wrapped around his waist. He remembers the feel of fingers trailing across his skin, a soft mouth on his, the pleasure pulled from his body. 

“You’re smiling.” 

Remus grins widely. “I’m happy.”

“I’m glad.” 

With a laugh, he leans forward and kisses him lightly.

“What about James and Peter?” he murmurs against his lips. 

Remus pulls away a bit and pulls the curtains closed, reaching for his wand and spelling them shut. 

“And class?”

“It’s Saturday. Relax, baby. We have all morning.” 

His boyfriend’s smile turns mischievous. “Hmm, then I can think of a few things we can do.” Remus just laughs and lets himself be pushed back against the mattress once more.

~

When Harry faces Voldemort, Remus nearly can’t stand it. His heart is broken, shattered into pieces on the ground, left behind the veil in that underground room. Left with the man he gave his heart that night in the bed they used to share, then gave to him again in the dark dusty house of his family. He knows he’s not getting it back again. 

The flashes of light remind him of battle. Of the battle he fought for the same fucking reason over a decade before. The battle that took his friends. 

He cannot lose anyone else that day. 

~

Remus arrives back at 12 Grimmauld Place hours later. Maybe even days. He’s no longer aware of time passing. 

The house is eerily quiet, all sounds of life gone from the dim hallways. There are no more voices or footsteps, no one cooking in the kitchen or cleaning out one of the many empty rooms. He can’t even hear Kreacher anywhere. 

The stairs creak familiarly under Remus’ feet as he slowly makes his way to his bedroom. It’s dark. He doesn’t bother with the lights, using only the faint moonlight to make his way across the room. Remus sinks onto his bed, head in his hands. There are so many memories from this room, from this bed. Late nights and early mornings, pacing the floors just waiting to hear, making love in the dead of night, screaming and fighting against the world, for the world. He wishes he was here, to gather him up in his arms and hold him tight and tell him everything will be okay. 

But he’s not here. And Remus doesn’t know what to do. 

He isn’t sure when he last slept. 

He isn’t sure he’ll ever sleep again. 

~

“Remus,” the soft whisper says.

“Hmm.” 

“Wake up, love.” 

“Hm, what is it?” 

When Remus rolls over, Sirius Black’s grinning face meets him, mere inches away. His hair is messy, cheek imprinted from the pillow. He’s never looked more perfect. 

With a quick kiss, Sirius says, “It’s Christmas.”

Remus grins at the childish joy in his voice. “It is.” Sirius kisses him again, soft and sweet, pulling him close and tangling a hand in his curls. 

“We should get up,” Remus mumbles eventually. 

Sirius groans, but rolls away from him to stand, flinching as his bare feet hit the cold floor. He stretches leisurely, back cracking as he reaches for the ceiling, shirt riding up a bit. Unable to stop himself, Remus reaches out and runs a finger along the exposed skin of his stomach. Sirius shivers.

“Don’t be mean,” Sirius murmurs. Remus just smirks. But he pulls his hand away, sitting up and pulling the blankets around himself. 

“Wait.” Remus grabs Sirius’ hand before he can walk away and tugs him down into another kiss. He smiles into it, carding a finger through Sirius’ long hair. This might just be paradise. 

But then a crash comes from downstairs and the shouting begins and they both remember where they are. 

“Some other time, then,” Sirius says and pulls away. Remus smiles at him sweetly. 

“I’m holding you to that.” 

Sirius’ gaze flashes to him for a split second before it’s gone as he turns back towards his dresser. 

“C’mon,” he says as he pulls a drawer open, fishing for a sweater. He finds one and pulls it on. It’s Remus’. “We should go start breakfast.” Remus nods, although Sirius doesn't see it, and clambers out of bed. 

“I’ll see you down there,” he says as Sirius heads for the door. He kisses him one last time. 

“Happy Christmas, Remus,” he whispers. 

“Happy Christmas, Sirius.” 

~

Remus wakes with a start. 

It takes a moment for him to gain his bearings as he looks blearily around the room, lit dimly by the moonlight shining in from the small window. 

His face swims through his mind, long hair and bright eyes smirking at him. He forces it down, the image too painful for his exhausted brain. 

The dream is still clear in his mind, the memory even more so. That had been one of the happiest mornings of his life. Waking up with his boyfriend, warm and happy and safe by his side for the first time in 12 years. He hadn’t thought he’d ever get that again. 

But now he’s lost it all over again. 

The events of the past 24 hours come crashing down all at once.

He remembers Harry’s screams, his tears. Remembers watching long black hair disappear behind the veil, silver eyes never to be seen again. He remembers the crack in his heart, just starting to mend, bursting wide open all over again. 

Harry is going to be okay, that was the most important thing he told himself. Harry and all of his friends, they are going to be okay. They are all going to be okay… 

Between one breath and the next, Remus is sobbing and he can’t stop himself. 

He told himself he would be strong. For Harry, for the Order. Except he can’t do it anymore. Alone in this empty house, filled with so many painful, wonderful memories, he can’t hold it together anymore. So he lets himself break apart. With nothing but the ringing in his ears and his memories as company, Remus lets himself hurt. 

~

Eleven years old, standing before him on the train, silver eyes piercing his soul. Dark hair cut short, curling around his face. 

A hand outstretched. He takes it. 

“I’m Sirius.” 

“Remus.”

“Gryffindor!” the hat calls and the boy’s face falls. 

Years pass. 

Friends and fights and pranks and laughter. 

Full moons with Padfoot by his side.

Love. Joy. The pure bliss of being known. 

Graduation comes. Fear looms over them. 

War. Pain. Secrets he can’t share. 

“Don’t you trust me anymore?”

James, Lily, Peter, all of them gone. Sirius. Gone. 

Betrayal. He falls to his knees. 

The full moon comes and he’s alone. 

Years pass in a blur. 

A headline in a newspaper that sends chills up his spine. 

Moonlight, cold wind on his skin. The man before him on his knees, begging for the world. 

“I love you.”

The two of them curled in bed, a low voice whispering in his ear, “Happy Christmas, Remus.”

“Please don’t leave me.” 

A flash of light.

Silence. 

~

Remus slowly walks towards the room at the end of the hall. He’s not even sure he can go in. But he has to try, he tells himself. He has to try. 

The door swings open silently. Remus steps into the room, footsteps kicking up the thin layer of dust on the floor. It hasn’t been disturbed in nearly a month. Everything is exactly as he left it, nothing out of place. It’s as familiar to Remus as the scars on his skin. He stands for a moment, scanning the room, remembering. Everything is a reminder of him. 

Slowly, so slowly, Remus begins sorting. He finds clothing thrown haphazardly into the dresser and he sighs. He never did learn, did he. There are socks on the floor, a few t-shirts along with them. Remus begins folding, placing each item carefully back into the dresser. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of it all. 

He finds his favorite jumper, one far too big on him, and presses it to his face. It still smells like him, of dog hair and smoke. Remus sinks to the ground, holding it close to him, as if it will bring him back. He knows it won’t, but he wishes for it anyway. With a deep breath, he pulls it over his head and continues folding. 

In one drawer he finds not clothing but objects. Small trinkets and mementos from their years at Hogwarts. There’s a Gryffindor flag, now faded and dull. He finds the mirror, twin to the one James had, given to Harry a year prior. He stares at himself in the reflection. Nothing happens. With a sigh, he sets it to the side. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it was a let down nonetheless. 

The next thing he pulls out is a telescope. He runs his fingers along the smooth surface, the cool metal bringing back memories of the night sky and a warm body beside him. The telescope was his, originally. Somehow it had ended up here. As he stares at it, he remembers the night he learned what love felt like.   

~

It’s dark when the boy finds him on the balcony of the tower. Remus escaped there after classes for a bit of fresh air. And some space, from the man now sitting beside him. The air is unusually warm for the March evening. He doesn’t say anything, just sits beside Remus, and watches the sun set. 

His heart constricts painfully as their shoulders brush. Remus wants to reach over, to touch him. But he doesn’t dare. So he stays silent, staring at the sky.

“You okay, Moony?” he asks quietly as the last strands of sunlight sink behind the mountains.

“Yeah.” Remus doesn’t look at him, keeping his eyes front. “Wanted to be alone.”

“You want me to go?”

He smiles a bit, fighting the longing in his chest. He doesn’t have the heart to turn him away. “No, you’re okay. You don’t count.” 

Remus feels him looking at him. 

“What?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know whether I should be flattered or offended.”

Remus glances at him, “About what, that you don’t count?” He nods. “I meant it as a compliment.” 

They fall silent again. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. Remus flushes, glancing over at him as his heart speeds up. Does he dare to hope?

Grey eyes have turned to silver in the moonlight, hair blowing in the soft breeze. He leans into him. There’s a look in his eyes that Remus can’t read. 

“Pads,” he begins. He reaches out hesitantly, resting a hand against his cheek. He sinks into the touch, and Remus feels his courage grow.  

“What, Re?”

“Can I kiss you?” The words come out in a single breath, barely audible over the light wind. But the boy nods as if he’s heard. 

Their lips touch quickly, messily. Remus’ heart stops. It’s not perfect, not at all, but it feels like the world has frozen. They break apart. Remus presses their foreheads together, feeling their breaths mingling. He looks up at him, eyes soft and full of longing. He reads the silent question in Remus’ face. 

With a breath, he leans in again, pressing their lips together, hands snaking around Remus’ neck and pulling him closer. This kiss is easier, less messy. They fit, their bodies molding together as Remus wraps his other arm around his waist. He sinks into his arms and Remus wonders why he didn’t do this sooner. 

“Sirius,” he whispers against his lips. “I really like you.”

He smiles. “I really like you too.”

They pull apart, after a moment, arms still wrapped around each other.

“Wanna look at the stars with me?” Remus asks. 

He nods eagerly and pulls away, and Remus grabs the telescope sitting beside him, lifting it to his eye. The boy points out the Canis constellation, grinning proudly.

“Look, Re, it’s me!” He’s grinning, arm wrapped around his shoulder, pointing up at the Sirius star, shining brightly down on them. Remus smiles at him, handing him the telescope and watches as he looks up at the sky. He never wants to leave this moment. 

~

Remus shakes his head at himself, dragging himself out of the memory. His heart constricts painfully as he remembers the feel of soft lips against his, arms curled around him, fingers in his hair. A feeling he’ll never get back again. 

He digs further in the drawer and finds a stack of letters. They give him pause. He surveys them, trying to figure out why they seem so familiar. It’s then he notices his own handwriting glaring up at him. 

Breath catching in his throat, Remus pulls out a letter he wrote, over 12 years ago. Tears form as he reads the words from his 15 year-old self, lonely and scared, faced with a full moon alone and the knowledge that his boyfriend is trapped in this house with his abusive mother and neglectful father. He can feel the longing through the paper, the need to be there, to kiss him and make everything better. It’s a feeling that never left. 

Heart constricting painfully, he sorts through each letter, reading the words he’d put there all those years ago. They’ve been lovingly preserved, evident from the careful creases in the paper and the neat organization. Every letter he’d ever written is now in his hands again. But the man he’d written them to is not. 

Remus begs himself not to cry, not to break down again. 

He lasts only a minute. 

~

Later that night, Remus climbs out onto the roof where they would always sit together, staring at the sky. He looks up at the stars that had always brought him comfort. His eyes find the Canis constellation almost immediately, drawn like always to the brightest star in the sky. The air is cool around him, the sky a deep deep blue. 

He sits there for a long time. 

Memory after memory flashes through his mind. The pain in his chest only grows with each passing second until he nearly can’t bear it anymore. Even being betrayed was better than losing him completely. Tears spill onto his cheeks until he’s crying, whole body shaking with sobs. He doesn’t want to feel it anymore. He wants the pain to go away. He wants him back. 

It’s nearly dawn when Remus moves again. The sky has lightened and his tears have dried on his cheeks. As he stares up at the disappearing constellations, heart in his throat, he whispers to the stars,

“Sirius, I don’t know how to say goodbye to you.”

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 60: The Scar

Heat blazed down on them with such ferocity, it rained sand for a moment as they each rolled to cover their eyes along with the general downpour their landing caused. Most of them sat up spitting it out and ruffling it from their clothes and hair. Sirius got the misfortune of landing in water, and came up coughing through sea spray with a clump of seaweed in his hair.

For a worrying moment as he staggered to his feet back towards shore, he wondered if he'd pissed himself. Then he realized the water was simply that warm, far more than the lake at school had ever been. The view he caught sight of was breathtaking, more exotic than anything he'd ever seen in his life. The deciduous trees seemed to reach through to the heavens, the light mist coating their skin was as warm as the sun still shining powerfully through the clouds to cast down on a makeshift lean-too laid out upon a granite shore. Tropical birds roosted right above it further providing shade and almost making it look completely blended into the shadows if he wasn't looking directly at it.

Then he saw Peter taking off his shoes and stuffing his school robes into his bag, sweat already appearing on him like the others, and he bitterly remembered what would drive him to this place. Harry had no reason to be here, unless the Dursleys had gone mental and taken him on some extravagant vacation. He however had last been mentioned fleeing the country, and his own godson, because of him. This seemed a likely, remote, place he would have landed.

Cursing and muttering the entire time he went splashing through the water, fighting the impulse to go over to him once more and throttle him for being a two-faced cad the whole time they'd known him, by the time he'd waded back to shore the others had all gotten semi-comfortable, but clearly feared stripping too far down even in the glaring sun. Who knew where they'd end up next, Antarctica?

Regulus was shaking his legs through the sand like he'd had the jelly-leg jinx placed upon him as he wandered over to Peter and began trying to talk to him again. Rather wishing he had pissed himself than watch that, he saw Longbottom wiping sweat from his eyes and giving the girls an unhappy look as they went towards the shade of the trees and scratched unhappily at his skin.

Sirius was still wearing his Wimborne Wasp jersey, and the pants of his school robes and didn't feel the need to show off farther, unlike Prongs who had stripped down to his boxers unrepentant and was now running laps in the shore waiting for Sirius to finish approaching.

"I could have bloody drowned out there while you were showing off!" He shouted upon approach.

"Nah, Moony would have saved you," James waved off, keeping his eyes on Evans, who was with Smith heading towards the lean-too in a casual stroll, eyes traveling along for the book he supposed, or taking it all in. He was still doing the latter.

Sirius tried to exchange an exasperated look with said friend, but he had a very strained smile in place it took Sirius a second to process. He wouldn't meet his eyes, and in fact his face looked slightly more than flushed. Sirius was about to start preening as he realized his wet clothes clung to him damn near as much as Prongs showing off, but it also showed off the darkening stains of blood anew trickling down his side and painting the water. He muttered a curse and began reapplying the charms. Prongs was only fairing slightly better, the marks slashed across him were newly scabbed as well, and a fresh stain only a few paces away showed Peter had likely gone through much the same upon their new landing again.

All three of them nearly jumped out of their new skin when they heard the startled yelps of the girls.

James was fastest again, even never having run on sand before didn't seem to deter him, but before the others could scramble over to see what monster was on this island with them, they could also hear him laughing. By the time they jogged into the thrown together shelter, it was to see him in a spectacular bow to Buckbeak, the girls fighting back the sweat running into their eyes as they did the same.

The Hippogriff graciously did so in return, even if he did click his beak in agitation upon the new arrivals. James merely came forward and patted his beak for comfort. "Looks like you kept along a buddy Padfoot."

"And he's kept our ride safe," Alice noted the book in the piled leaves clearly meant for a nest.

Remus winced upon hearing the chapter title, he'd had enough Scars to last his lifetime, and elbowed his way back out of the suddenly crowded space. Peter stumbled over his feet and nearly crashed to the ground as he tried to get out of his way. Remus stopped on instinct, even reached out to help catch him without thinking twice, then he saw the nick in his ear that would never regrow. Shoving blindly past everything else, he made his way back to the unforgiving sun.

He felt James and Sirius following him, but did not want to turn around and face them. Their comforting words, their promise they didn't blame him. None of that erased the harm he'd done to them, and would inevitably do again. How could he blame Peter for some future deeds of his when his actions still held garish marks on them all?

Surprisingly short on breath, he stopped only a few paces into the shaded trees and leaned against the nearest one, soaking in the warmth while he could. It wasn't just their casual dismissal of him nearly being a murderer. It was also his intended victims, how none of them had even so much as looked at him since it happened. It was the numb shock he still couldn't get out of his brain that Peter had it in him to someday be the cause of this future they were living through. Maybe not now, but the fact that he hadn't been able to deny it to James' face left his mind spinning so fast he thought he was going to be sick again.

"Ynoom ecalp siht evol d'uoy."

Remus kept his eyes closed, even as he scowled in confusion. That was Sirius' voice, but unless he was trying to make him laugh from sheer randomness, that hadn't made a lick of sense.

"Suolaej os eb dluow sgnorp."

Then he did open his eyes, only to see Sirius and James right next to him, looking as baffled as he felt and glancing around wearily, wands drawn. Remus didn't blame them, but something about what he was hearing tugged at his memory. It didn't sound like any language he knew, but-

"Rats live on no evil star."

He looked up, to see a bright-eyed bird staring very intently at him. "Oh," he gasped in surprise, finally cluing the other two in. "Looks like an emordnilap found us."

"A what?" James asked in surprise.

"I remember Kettleburn mentioning these," Sirius agreed as he smiled at the beast. "They speak backward for you. Though I don't recall ever having said any of that."

The bird clicked its beak upon Sirius speaking, turning attention directly to him, and then recited, "Taht fo yna dias gnivah reve llacer t'nod I hguoht .Uoy rof drawkcab kaeps yeht."

"Fascinating," James muttered at once. "Looks like Sirius, err, the Sirius on the run here and not mine," he needlessly gave him a playful shove, nearly overbalancing him as he grinned at the bird, "a friend."

"I like him," Sirius agreed at once.

"Mih ekil I."

His grin only grew. "Can I keep her Prongs? I want to name her Ava."

"Ava mih eman ot tnaw I, sgnorp mih peek I nac."

James merely went cross eyed as the bird continued to jabber away, he wasn't particularly impressed. It was massive for one, even as she fluttered down to land on Padfoot's head it was nearly double the size of any owl he'd seen, with a beak the size of his face in a rainbow of colors. The sleek black feathers were large enough he wouldn't be surprised if there were some fancy emordnilap quills out there, and the claws were giving him nervous ticks even as gently as they were clearly being on his best friends head.

Sirius lifted his arm, and Ava obligingly stepped onto that instead, still staring at him intently.

"I wouldn't recommend it Pads," James decided. "Maybe when we get out of this mess we can come back and get you your own, but this one might get hurt along for now."

Sirius pouted but seemed to agree, even before Remus added, "Besides, you've already got Buggle. I hardly see you needing two birds."

"I could cross-breed them!" Sirius suddenly said in excitement, cocking his head to the side and hearing the book already flesh out his idea. "You see, I'll bet this is the one I've been sending letters to Harry, mix the two birds together and who knows what would happen."

"You're turning into Hagrid," James grumbled, but was over shouted by the bird saying in one long speech, "Neppah dluow tahw swonk ohw dna rehtegot sdrib owt eht xim ,yrrah ot srettel gnidnes neeb ev'I eno eht si siht teb ll'I ,ees uoy! Meht deerb-ssorc dluoc I."

Remus shook his head slowly, fighting back a smile now at Sirius' far too pleased expression. "Well, it's certainly as noisy as you. I always said if you weren't a dog you'd be some sort of bird, though I always imagine you more of a peacock."

Sirius sniffed, and now with an impish grin in place said perfectly clearly right next to the bird, "and I always said I wanted to be a duck! They're awesome creatures, can fly, swim, and walk, not to mention-"

James reached over and smothered his mouth before he could go on a whole rants worth. The bird blinked for only a moment before saying back what Sirius had managed to get out.

"Noitnem ot ton ,klaw dna ,miws ,ylf nac ,serutaerc emosewa er'yeht !Kcud a eb ot detnaw I dias syawla I dna-"

Remus was pleasantly surprised to find that once he'd stopped snickering at the pair, his head wasn't spinning so much. The two had done it again, but it didn't completely erase the empty gap he was sure the other two felt about this newest experience. Guilt was already pouring in he hadn't said anything to Peter since it happened, but he didn't even know what to say. It should be nothing to forgive what he hadn't even done yet, but now he was afraid. If he ever looked him in the eye again, would he always see this future lingering over his head?

Jerking his head sharply from side to side, rather than letting his stomach plunge farther into despair, he instead held his arm out hopefully. Ava appraised him for a moment before hopping over, and Remus nearly buckled under the weight. He hadn't been expecting the bird to be so heavy, for as casually as Sirius was holding her. Then he thought for a moment, and grinned as he told the bird, "Step on no pets."

Her large black eyes seemed to appraise him for some time, before repeating back now in his voice, "Step on no pets."

James and Sirius burst in surprised laughter. "How'd you come up with that so quickly!" James protested slightly. The chapter was winding down now, and his mind was scrambling frantically to see if he could try the same rather than dwell on everything Harry was.

"Just something I realized a while back, never thought it would have any practical use," Remus shrugged with a smug grin. "I'm wondering how long it took Sirius to come up with that rats live on no evil star thing," he finished with an uneasy wince, he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

Sirius turned away, but not before Remus had seen the boiling anger once more. He used his wand to blast bark away from a tree, startling Ava who flapped her wings in protest and nearly bit Remus' neck off.

"Oh, wait, I've got something," James said quickly and peaceably. He held his arm out and bounced hopefully on his heels for the bird. She didn't seem particularly happy about it, but finally, after some coaxing from Sirius who had slowly turned back around and smiled at the bird, Ava did indeed move onto Prongs' jiggling arm.

James looked very intently at the bird, and then pointed at the mouth of the tent. "Pretty please, tell that redhead, Snave thgirla?"

The emordnilap clicked her beak in response, and then took off.

"That wasn't a sentence," Remus frowned in confusion as he tried to work out what James had said. He didn't get much time to think about it, as he heard Alice call a warning she was on the last sentence. They all scrambled to get their things back on, he wasn't even sure if Evans had gotten the message before they were gone.

HPHPHPHP

My favorite palindrome is Go Hang A Salami, I’m A Lasagna Hog. Let me know yours!

Fun fact about this chapter, I tried to figure out which tropical bird JK was imagining when writing this so I could say Sirius was there, but the largest species of owl can be up to ten pounds. The largest tropical birds are only five pounds. So what she was imagining I've no clue, as even the smallest tropical bird should fit through any window an owl can. Hell, Hedwig is comparatively larger than toucans, if we're talking wing size and body mass.

Personally, I always thought she meant a toucan and just grossly overestimated how big they were, so I just went with that and magically enlarged them. After all, if this world has one of the 'stupidest' species of birds delivering messages, who's to say they don't have other modified versions of our animals.