#maybe i can get my own some day if i’m ever in the london shop and they’re not sold out like usual lol

[abigail]

my sister let me borrow her viv westwood devil horns and i simply do not want to give them back lol

[cobrakaisb]

ciao bella

summary: you and theo spend a summer in italy, and some insecurities are revealed

word count: 849

author's note: the ending is lowkey shit, but i really liked the concept.

“theo,” you called, waiting for your boyfriend’s hum of acknowledgment before continuing. “can you rub some sunscreen on my back? i don’t want to burn.” he grumbled a response in that low tone of his, but you heard the sound of the lotion bottle, letting you know that he was fulfilling your request. 

you sighed in relief as theo rubbed the cool lotion on your back, arching ever so slightly as the feeling contrasted your sun kissed skin. he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, “relax love.” you sighed again, sinking further into the lounge chair set up on the balcony overlooking lake como. the stunning view, large villa, and established atmosphere reminded you just how rich your boyfriend was. 

when he approached you after the holiday break during fifth year with a letter and plane ticket to italy, you were shocked. it was a little unexpected, considering that your relationship was relatively new, so you found yourself hesitant to agree. it took pansy, millie, and daphne’s words of encouragement to convince you that this trip was a good idea. spending a month in italy didn’t scare you, in fact it was a bonus to get away from your own familial issues, and of course, some alone time with your boyfriend couldn’t hurt. it was the itinerary, rather, that made you question your sanity and willingness to go.

you were flying in from london to milan, via muggle transportation, where you were spending three days in a luxury hotel. from there you were going to his family’s villa at lake como, where you’d reside for two weeks, soaking up the sun and rich atmosphere. at the beginning of the third week, the two of you were taking a private car to spend the day in florence before heading to rome for another three days. the remainder of the trip would be spent between the amalfi coast and sorrento. 

the whole thing was a lot, and everything surrounding the trip exuded wealth. between the luxury hotels, first class tickets, private tours, designer outfits, and theo’s eagerness to take you on various shopping sprees, you felt like you were in over your head. granted, your family was well off, but not nearly as financially stable as theodore’s. maybe that’s why it was hard for you to truly relax; the worry about paying theo back was eating you away, slowly but surely. 

“you’re not relaxing,” he mumbled, drawing you from your racing thoughts to the serene environment. you huffed at his words. “i’m trying too,” you replied. theo could hear the worry in your voice; he could feel it emitting off you like the faint blue glow of a patronus. he set the bottle of lotion down, climbing off your back to sit in his own lounger. he turned to face you. “what are you so worried about, darling? tell me and i’ll fix it,” he begged. you knew his blue eyes were wide and pleading behind the dark frames of his sunglasses. 

“i don’t know how you’ll be able to fix it. it think i just need to figure it out on my own,” you explained softly, not wanting to hurt his feelings, or make him feel like you were withholding information from him. (even though you technically were.) by the end of your sentence, theo had moved from his chair back to yours, taking a hold of your hand. 

his olive skin was warm and a shade darker than usual, probably from all the sun you’d been getting these past couple of weeks. his thumb rubbed gently across the back of your hand, a habit that he developed as a way to soothe your nerves and anxiety. you sighed, a deep one at that, before opening your mouth to confess. before you could truly process what you were saying, filtering the things that you didn’t necessarily want him to know, you had told theo everything; how you felt like you’d never be able to pay him back, and how you wondered if splurging on you was really worth it.  

once you finished, you took another breath to calm yourself down. you risked a hesitant glance at theodore, who’s grip on your hand had tightened over the course of your rambling. it was silent between the two of you, and you were afraid to break it. finally, theo licked his lips before looking towards you. “fuck darling, don’t ever worry about that. you being here is all the payback i need,” he explained softly, his free hand tracing the bridge of your nose. 

“theo,” you trailed off, but he silenced you with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “you’re wearing my ring, yeah?” he asked, gesturing to the silver ring that hung on a chain around your neck. “always,” you answered. “exactly. what’s mine is yours, and it forever will be,” he replied, kissing the back of your hand as you felt your cheeks heat up. 

“now sit back and relax.” maybe spending a month with theo, the boy you loved, in italy wasn’t such a bad idea.

[sitp-recs]

you got me hooked on harry x teddy !!! ive, hand on my heart, never before even considered that ship as a possibility and here i am now swiming in fresh waters of moral deprivity. much appreciated <33 a whole new batch of previously undiscovered fics just opened for me wohoo

on that note, could you please rec some of your favorite harry x teddy fics? thanks <33

ahhh I’m so very happy to hear this anon! I live to serve the small but mighty Hardy nation so I’m feeling very accomplished right now. hopefully I’ll convert even more readers into moral deprativity one fic at a time 😌 here are my top favorites, a special shoutout to LQT for their service as always 🫡 I also got a Tedrarry list if you’re interested :)))

grasp by onbeinganangel (E, 1k)

Teddy has wanted Harry forever. Of course he wants to be good for him.

Love is a Verb by @wolfpants (E, 1.7k)

The summer after Teddy graduates from Hogwarts, Harry takes him on a trip to the remote beaches of Land's End.

Coming Up for Air by @lqtraintracks (M, 2k)

I could have died of it, your tenderness toward me. Instead I decided to live.

so slide back down and close your eyes by lqtraintracks (E, 3k)

When the magic goes out at Harry’s place, and no one can get home, and it’s cold as a witch’s tit outside… well, what else are you going to do?

Beneath a Foreign Moon by lqtraintracks (E, 3k)

Harry visits Teddy in the middle of the night.

Simple As It Is, Complicated As You Need by lqtraintracks (E, 4k)

It's not something they do often, this whole 'Daddy' thing. But to be fair, they don't even have regular sex as often as Teddy would like either. It's not as though they've even admitted they're doing anything. One of the benefits and curses of both of them being Legilimens actually: Nobody ever has to talk.

Surface Texture by @the-starryknight (E, 5k)

I've drawn a hundred portraits, but none quite like Harry's. In the early hours of the morning, I lay him bare in charcoal and paper.

Waiting Under Vain by supergrover24 (E, 5k)

Teddy wants to know how sex really should be. Harry can't resist, no matter how much he tries.

When It Alteration Finds by lqtraintracks (E, 7k)

Teddy thinks this is the way to finally get what he wants. But there is more than one way to Harry's heart.

Holding Out for A Hero by @writcraft (E, 7k)

Even as he says no, Harry’s hands push into Teddy’s hair. Even as he protests, his lips connect with Teddy’s. Before Teddy can offer any reassurance his heart’s thumping wildly in his chest and Harry Potter’s kissing him as if there’s no tomorrow.

Seven Years Gone by suitesamba (E, 7k)

Seven years after his partner’s death, Harry has rebuilt his life with his friends’ help, but hasn’t managed to move forward romantically. Teddy Lupin, 28, is back in London for good after years of studying and working abroad. When he finds himself in need of some extra space at his new shop, he consults with Harry and Hermione, who have built a successful business around creating Wizarding Space.

Game, Set, Match by Writcraft (E, 13k)

Teddy is smitten, Harry is lonely and tennis seems like a great way to avoid dealing with this thing between them.

Putting Out Fires (with Gasoline) by lqtraintracks (E, 13k)

Teddy stays with Harry for a summer to help him figure out his life, or maybe to figure out his own, or to seduce his godfather, or maybe to fall in love.

Darling, Don’t Think Twice by @shiftylinguini (E, 18k)

Leaving the Aurors, and then England, after his divorce with Ginny was finalised was the best thing for Harry, and for Ginny, too ― but not for the godson who worshipped the ground he walked on. Now that he’s back, all Harry wants is to set up his own place, and to spend time with Teddy as he tries to fix their fractured relationship.

Bonus: a Drarry fic with some Hardy kissing

Wield Me by @tackytigerfic (E, 10k)

Draco Malfoy, blacksmith, is renowned through the magical world for his skill and exquisite creations. He could quite easily spend the rest of his days making pretty trinkets for the fae court, and being handsomely rewarded for the privilege. But why take the easy route when instead he could get involved in a dangerous mission with Unspeakable Harry Potter (who also happens to be Draco's... well, he's something, isn't he?).

[possibilistfanfiction]

fuck dude i spent the past two days reading the entirety of girls against god and catching up on we lived happily during the war and i s2g it’s the most i’ve cried in YEARS what the fuck bea’s trans niece?? it all must mean so much to bea?? what the FUCK oh my god i am so emotional i have so many feeling ily tysm for your service 🥹 (also BIG fan of footy au. big big fan. you are incredible) THANK YOU

[bea's niece! love her! here u go]

//

you’re thrilled that your parents have decided to spend a few days away in ojai at some winery aunt bea recommended, because as much as you love them, unlimited and mostly unsupervised time with your aunts is pretty much the best thing in the world.

they’d planned to take you to a cool, nice dinner at this trendy place asaad had seen on tiktok, which honestly sounded fun. plus, it’s mexican food, which is basically your favorite other than your nani’s lamb biryani. and it had seemed exciting and fun but then you had looked through your entire suitcase and didn’t love any of the tops you packed, and you want to do your makeup but you’re not that good at it yet, and usually your mama helps you, and —

you sniffle and take a calming breath, wipe the tears from under your eyes. it’s okay, you tell yourself. you can ask for help. your aunts love you, and your big brother loves you, and sometimes, of course, he teases you but not about this. never about this. if you felt bad enough you didn’t want to go out, no one would be mad at you.

you take another big breath and then put on one of aunt bea’s old t-shirts she’d accidentally left in london last year and then had laughed and told you to keep it. you walk down the stairs to your aunts’ bedroom. asaad and aunt bea are tending to the herb garden outside, and you’re not surprised to see aunt ava seemingly emptying a quarter of their closet onto their big bed. you linger in the doorway, your heart caught a little in your throat, but then aunt ava looks up and stills, then offers you a smile that always feels warm, and calm, and you don’t ever wonder why aunt bea fell in love with them.

‘what’s up, kiddo?’

you take a second to compose yourself because you really don’t want to cry; you’ve spent enough time around the both of them that you know aunt ava understands how to be patient and let you arrive at what you need to say in your own time. ‘my mama usually helps with my makeup.’

‘ah,’ aunt ava says, already excited. ‘what’s the vibe your feeling? also, what are you wearing? i can’t decide.’ she gestures to the bed with her cane. ‘as you can see.’

it gets you to laugh, a knot in your chest loosening. ‘um, maybe i can borrow one of your crops? my camo cargo pants, i think, and my new cdg converse.’

‘ooh,’ ava says, ‘love. and yes, of course you can borrow anything you want. i’m still mad you’re big enough they fit you, but i’ll forgive you. growing up is better than the alternative.’

you frown at that but aunt ava doesn’t seem bothered, or sad or upset.

‘hmm. morbid. my bad.’

‘you good?’

‘i’m awesome.’ she smiles and gestures for you to actually come into the room. her hair falls in easy waves past her shoulders, longer than when you’d last seen her for eid, and it’s easy to hug her tightly, to settle into her gentle embrace, to smell the detergent that reminds you of aunt bea, and aunt ava’s subtle light perfume, and the lavender lotion you get to use every time you’re here. you know he understands, in a different way than aunt bea but in a way that matters too, that flows like water and makes you feel like you’re lifting your face to the sun, what it feels like to be bigger than what the world expects of you and your body.

your parents are the best; they’d gotten you hormone blockers immediately when you asked, and your mama and auntie had taken you shopping for pretty bras in the fanciest shops in london last month, and your dad practices your drag routines with you after football practice.

but still: people who feel it, people who know — your family, in the deepest way. you pray five times a day, in thanks, usually. blessings, you know, even now.

‘the vibe is, like, i don’t know. subtle but glitter?’

aunt ava squeezes you. ‘incredible. i’m obsessed already. maybe a glitter eyeliner?’

you relax: aunt ava loves you.

‘do you have your makeup here? i have, like, enough fun shit — uh, stuff — to cover us for any look you want, but obviously not foundation or concealer for you. but if you don’t have any, we can send your aunt and brother.’ she laughs. ‘asaad can be your skin tone match.’

'i have some makeup.' you let yourself take a deep breath, because aunt ava is happy; she wants to do makeup with you, and let you borrow clothes, and go out to a cool restaurant. it's not a duty, or because you're family — when your aunts get to help you be yourself, it makes them happy. 'but it's mostly boring.'

'the basics are very important, though.' she smiles. 'well, go grab any of yours that you want to use, then come meet me back down here. you can look through mine and use any you want. and i'm the prettiest person i know, so i can help.'

'number one?'

'way too like beatrice,' she says, 'mean. for no reason! but i'll humor you.' ava bites their bottom lip in contemplation. 'well, i met janelle monae last year. and shangela comes into my bar often.'

'you live a wild life,' you say, and aunt ava laughs. 'so, third?'

'yeah,' she confirms. 'well, fourth, maybe.'

'who's third on the list, then?'

'you, of course.'

it makes you blush, but you turn quickly so aunt ava can't really see. you know she knows, but, like, it's fine. whatever. maybe she's the prettiest person you've ever seen and she's kind and funny and smart and owns her own bar, but she's also your aunt, who you've watched throw up in a bush after she drank too much champagne at brunch one time, and she always falls asleep on aunt bea's shoulder when you go to a movie. there's no reason to be embarrassed, and there's also no reason, you remind yourself, to not want to feel pretty.

you get your setting spray and foundation and concealer and their respective brushes, and then aunt ava shows you through a lot of makeup. you don't think you'll ever want to own this much makeup in your entire life, and it's kind of funny because aunt ava doesn't really wear much most days, but she just — she loves it. she loves sharing with you, and explaining why she got stuff that doesn't really make sense, and eventually you pick out a gold eyeliner to use. aunt ava makes sure not to cover your freckles completely when she helps with your foundation, and then, when you try to do the eyeliner yourself and mess it up, she hands you a makeup wipe without any judgement or impatience.

you finish with some mascara, and you sit and talk and listen to music in the background while aunt ava does her own makeup. she lets you pick out any crop you want, and she decides, after a fair amount of deliberation, on a sundress that you know is aunt bea's favorite on her. gay, you think, and then say aloud because you're sure aunt ava will appreciate it. and she does: she laughs, and aunt bea kisses her after she knocks on the doorframe and then smiles softly when she sees the two of you.

'you both look amazing,' she says. 'asaad has already freshened up, so i just need to change, and then we can go. i'm confident it we leave in ten minutes, we'll make our reservation time.'

'what if we left in twelve minutes?' aunt ava asks.

aunt bea just ignores her and walks to their closet and lightly closes the door, which seems to delight aunt ava. she snorts.

'love her.'

'you guys are weird.'

'just wait until you have a partner or partners. if you're doing it right, which i'm sure you eventually will, because you're the best, it's all just the best kind of weird.'

they're right, you know. you get to be surrounded by all kinds of love and you've always gotten to see it every day. but still, when aunt bea walks out in tailored slacks and loafers and a loose linen button up with intricate stitching, a little mascara on her face, her hair with a few strands of silver in it now, less than your dad's but mostly the same — you can breathe in another way. you have the careful way your mama helps you wash your hair every week when you told her you wanted to grow it out, and how she always takes you with her to get your threading done together; you have your dad's genuine joy whenever he takes you to women's football matches, and the way he cries at shows with queer storylines that end happily; you have your brother and the way he always, always, makes sure his group of friends never misgenders you — ever since you came out, none of them have treated you any differently at all; you have aunt ava, whose identities are as big and open and exuberant as she is.

and you have your aunt beatrice, you smiles sincerely and, of course, notices your eyeliner. she taught you how to shave your legs when you were too nervous to ask your mama, for whatever reason that seemed confusing at the time in your head. she plays tennis with you and she's never mean but she also never lets you win; if you ever beat her one day, it will be on your own merit. you're pretty sure she could literally kill someone twice her size with one hand, but she has never been anything but gentle toward you, your entire life.

she tucks a pair of sunglasses in the V of her shirt and puts on one of her fancy watches with a thick band. she smiles at you. 'ready to go?'

'mhm. i'm hungry.'

she kisses aunt ava's temple and then puts a gentle hand to the small of your back, ushers you out of their room and to the foyer where asaad is waiting on the couch. it's still warm and sunny and gorgeous. aunt bea makes sure the front door is locked and then takes one last look in the mirror. this smile is all for herself, one you've had so many times, one that, on her, lights you up from the inside. she fluffs her hair and then nods, and you get it, unspoken: she must like who she sees looking back at her.

when she sits on your bed later that night, after you've all eaten more than your fair share and aunt ava had done a lot of moaning over some shishito peppers, after she'd driven everyone home and you had all changed into pajamas and watched half of a movie while she and aunt ava had a glass of wine — you curl into her hip and put your head on her lap.

you want to thank her — for being who she is, for being part of your family, for loving you — and everyone she cares for — in this quiet, stoic, unrelentingly gentle way. but you're sleepy, and you don't want to cry. she runs a gentle hand up and down your spine.

'did you have a good day?'

'yeah, aunt bea.' you think of the beach and aunt ava's laugh and your brother's gentle insistence that he hold every door open for the three of you; how good the food was and how you'd seen bella ramsey at a table and asaad had blushed so hard you had laughed. you think of the quiet way aunt bea had gotten aunt ava her medications in the morning at breakfast, a kiss to the top of her head. a long, long life together. a home, with you included, in any way you want. 'i had the best day.'

[punkscowardschampions]

Ruster pt.2

Rio: Why’s your sister throwing an absolute fit in my inbox?

Buster: Ask her

Rio: I would if she wasn’t ranting so autocorrect can’t keep up

Rio: Why did you set her on me, make out I’ve been bitching about her hardcore

Buster: Why can’t she handle her drink and/or drugs? We’re genetically disposed to a higher level of tolerance than she manages

Rio: That’s racist, today of all days

Buster: My parents are Scouse, you’ll have to aim different accusations

Rio: You’ve no clue what your ma is and your dad is at least half Irish

Rio: you’re the man throwing out accusations, for no good reason

Buster: The reason being you wanted me in London, today of all days

Rio: Because you can’t see me, so you can’t be here

Rio: it’s my home, you get to leave when you’ve blown through and had your fun

Buster: It’s half my home, if you want to play the numbers game

Buster: and you don’t get to dictate to me when I can and can’t be there

Rio: It’s where your 2nd house is

Rio: so what, you take all the good holidays and leave me with easter? I think not

Buster: What’s wrong with Easter? You look good in pastels and you love going to church

Rio: It’s no fun, you want to have all the fun

Buster: You’re the one having it, I’m compromising 

Rio: You’ve thrown your own party and there are no parents there

Buster: And? That doesn’t mean my plans aren’t second best

Rio: You literally only like grandad

Buster: You took my favourite holiday

Rio: You spoiled everything

Buster: You deserve Nancy spoiling everything

Rio: Maybe

Rio: but you’re guilty too

Buster: She wouldn’t stay with me, I tried my best

Rio: There’s nothing to be ruined anyway

Buster: So my conscience is clear

Rio: Not so fast

Buster: What else do you think I’ve done wrong?

Rio: You don’t need telling

Buster: But you always want to

Rio: I’ve not spoken to you since

Rio: just like you wanted

Buster: You’re speaking to me now

Rio: ‘cos your sister is shouting at me

Buster: You’ll both get over it

Rio: Did you have that [green fit] already?

Buster: I went shopping earlier

Rio: Thought so

Buster: If Nance was here you could’ve watched every second

Rio: It gets really blurry around her [shading via saying a low number of drinks here] though

Rio: Why did she not want to stay?

Buster: She’s actually racist

Rio: Would explain some things

Buster: Plus, we’ve raised ourselves from the age of [whatever she said] which makes me a pussy for asking

Rio: She would say that, where was the live-in nanny

Buster: She agrees I should avoid you though

Rio: What did you tell her

Buster: Just that you won’t leave me alone

Rio: why would you say that

Buster: Because you don’t

Rio: We’ve had 2 conversations since December

Rio: 1 2

Buster: 2 more than I wanted

Buster: and then I have to think about you all the time

Rio: Better in theory is the meanest thing you’ve ever said

Buster: I didn’t

Rio: Close enough

Rio: and you’ve said horrible things

Buster: We’re somehow too close and never close enough

Rio: I feel bad, for saying you couldn’t come, for the record

Rio: how else can we actually avoid each other though

Buster: You should, I’m having a way worse time at home

Rio: She said you were going to drown some girl or something

Buster: She started a Gatsby reference she didn’t know how to follow through on

Buster: I said I was throwing this party for some girl, that wasn’t true either

Rio: I’m not sure she’d get why Tom and Daisy suck

Rio: is it [just guessing some girl you’ve seen enough times on socials to suspect]?

Buster: There isn’t a girl in this entire postcode worth hosting

Rio: well it’s no fun here either

Rio: apart from the row Nance wants, it’s all wrong

Buster: Why?

Rio: You’re not here

Rio: so many people aren’t here

Buster: You don’t want me to be

Rio: Idiot

Rio: you don’t want to see me

Buster: You miss your brother, that’s all

Rio: He’s not here, Django isn’t, Edie, Liam, Una

Rio: now you

Buster: I don’t belong on the same list, they’re family

Rio: Let me be upset

Buster: No, not about me

Rio: This is worse

Buster: Don’t let it be worse

Rio: Come next time, whatever is next

Rio: I can’t do this

Buster: Easter, your least favourite

Rio: Oh, great

Buster: I look good in pastels too, don’t worry

Rio: That’s the issue

Buster: Blame my parents, it’s completely their fault

Rio: I’ll not tell them

Rio: I’ve got decorum

Buster: Tell Nance to try and spell it, that’ll cheer you up

Rio: shh

Rio: You should’ve come this time, you can only wear so flattering a green outfit

Buster: Yours is very flattering

Buster: and head-to-toe is for the real tourists

Rio: A leprechaun hat is not getting in the door here

Rio: I lied you look good but still

Buster: I know

Rio: You could make it easier

Buster: No-one at this party could hit me hard enough

Rio: I don’t want you to get hurt

Buster: Only ugly but it isn’t going to happen

Rio: It shouldn’t matter

Buster: I’ve got a beauty mark because I am, babe, so have you

Rio: Twinning

Buster: More than me and her, in all the ways that matter

Rio: I forget that you two are

Rio: you’ve never been much alike at all

Buster: She deliberately sets herself apart and at odds

Rio: Yeah

Buster: We’re not from the generations of posh cunts she wishes we were

Rio: You’d look so inbred by now, she should be thankful she doesn’t have to fix her face

Buster: She should be thankful for a lot of shit she prefers to complain about

Rio: You think I complain all the time too

Rio: but I can’t to anyone else, I have to keep it positive

Buster: Within reason you do, she has none

Rio: She’s very jealous, of things she doesn’t even need to be

Buster: Of Ava

Buster: and to hear her making a speech you’d think our parents shouldn’t have been allowed to keep us

Rio: It’s easier to pretend your life would be perfect if it were the opposite

Rio: there’s no way to go back and test it out, you can keep the grudge and belief

Buster: Our life is close to perfect, she can’t bear that the things that aren’t are her fault

Rio: She’ll apologise when she wants something

Rio: to you and me

Buster: She can fuck off

Rio: I thought you might say that

Buster: You know me

Rio: Even when you’re acting up

Buster: Even I can’t fight everything all at once

Rio: You’ll exhaust yourself

Buster: I am, but that doesn’t mean I get to stop

Rio: thats why you wanted her to just stay too

Buster: One thing for someone else is too much

Rio: It’s not too late for me to rev the argument back up, if you like

Buster: Ava would stay, if she was older

Rio: Yeah, ‘course

Buster: I don’t know how she’s as different from us as she is

Rio: It just happens

Rio: don’t need different dads or anything

Buster: It’s too late for me

Rio: Too late for what?

Buster: This town ruins everything, everyone

Rio: That doesn’t have to be true, it’s just a place

Rio: and you can leave in [however many days]

Buster: A long time, like you said

Rio: You’re not bad at acting, not really

Rio: you can play the part 

Buster: Yeah, but playing takes a toll

Rio: I know

Rio: you probably don’t believe that I get it but I see it

Rio: if you want you can take all the holidays until you leave 

Buster: No I can’t, you’re needed

Buster: no-one else is ever as positive, even if you’re playing at least half the time too

Rio: That’s what I’m for

Rio: everyone cares about you too

Buster: I don’t want them to

Rio: So you can’t let them down?

Buster: So I can leave without looking back, it’ll be easier

Rio: Okay

Buster: I have to

Rio: I don’t want you to

Buster: You’ll thank me one day

Rio: I won’t but it won’t matter

Buster: It’ll matter to me that I didn’t fuck your life up, it does

Rio: Or your own

Rio: it’s the rational thing to do

Buster: And you’re a good girl who never gets in trouble, remember

Rio: Nows not the time for jokes

Buster: Something about craic, today of all days, you tell me

Rio: I can imagine the piss poor accent attempts you’ve been subjected to

Buster: Makes me miss yours

Rio: You’ve already made me miss you too much

Buster: You wouldn’t make me suffer alone, unlike Nance

Rio: There’s still a lot that can be said for a shit party, if you’ve got the right company

Buster: You could get on a plane, be here before it’s over

Rio: You’d change your mind whilst I have half way

Buster: My mind doesn’t ever change about you

Rio: Just what you’re going to do

Rio: and I can’t knock on the neighbours door if you’re going to slam yours in my face

Buster: I wouldn’t

Buster: I have some decorum myself, somewhere

Rio: Saving it for me

Buster: Yeah

Rio: Are you daring me to though?

Buster: Is it my turn?

Rio: Hm

Rio: I’ve forgotten, sometimes I forget what conversations have actually happened or are just in my head

Buster: Me too

Rio: it’s not all good, sometimes we have arguments and I say all the things I forget to when we actually do

Buster: Sometimes I don’t say anything and let you speak until you’ve said everything you want to

Rio: I would obviously be too stunned to speak if that really happened

Buster: Of course, I’d be if you really showed up on my doorstep

Rio: I could, easily

Buster: Do you dare?

Rio: I am scared but yeah

Buster: My birthday’s months away, don’t be

Rio: It’s another reason I can’t stop speaking to you

Rio: if just to acknowledge how long it’s been

Buster: How many reasons have you got?

Rio: The reason I tell you, to speak to you, to try and see how you are, to try and make you talk to me, to try and convince myself that I don’t want you to, there’s too many, actually

Buster: You’re too much

Rio: You could handle it

Rio: I could be less, if we talked more often than every holiday

Buster: I could barely handle talking to you twice

Rio: We were talking around talking

Rio: I’m not used to feeling like I’ve lost an argument I didn’t want to have

Buster: I don’t want to keep arguing

Rio: You’re already exhausted, me too

Buster: Tired of not being able to do or say what I want

Rio: You know I’d never tell anyone

Buster: I’m not used to being able to trust anyone

Rio: Yeah

Rio: but really, think about it, I’d be telling on myself and neither of us wants that outcome anyway, right

Rio: we’d incriminate ourselves at the same time, it’s insurance 

Buster: We could call a truce, you’re drunk, you won’t remember tomorrow

Rio: You’re drunk

Buster: You are

Rio: It’s okay, I know you’re wasted

Buster: Impossible, I’d be having lots more fun than this

Rio: Nance upset you, I upset you by banning you

Rio: it makes whatever you’re feeling more

Buster: I’m not 8, as she helpfully pointed out

Buster: I’m not upset by anything either of you do

Rio: Yeah you are

Rio: upset, not 8

Rio: though our 15th are still ages away, as you pointed out

Buster: You wish I cared that much

Rio: Why would I want you to be upset and alone

Buster: Because you are

Rio: No I’m not

Buster: Not technically, but you feel like you are

Rio: You’re technically not either

Rio: technicalities are best saved for court, they mean nothing in real life

Buster: They mean nothing to your real life

Rio: An excuse to do what you want to do or a poor 2nd for not, either way

Buster: Small details matter

Buster: [pointing out some small detail of her current outfit like an I told you so]

Rio: That isn’t the same thing though

Buster: You obviously don’t want to talk about being drunk or alone, I’m changing the subject, slightly

Rio: It’s you who refuses to admit he’s drunk

Buster: It’s the truth, I’m playing by the rules

Rio: What’s new

Buster: What’s your problem with that? You aren’t your mum, you’re allowed to admit they serve a purpose without having to also join the police

Rio: You just love rules

Rio: and grouping people and things

Buster: You just aren’t used to anyone following them

Rio: I do so, I don’t live on the commune and get home-schooled, you know

Buster: You live in almost the same amount of chaos

Rio: You think so

Rio: your life could be as chaotic, to me

Buster: I don’t think my life could be called that

Rio: There you go then

Buster: There’s structure

Buster: [show her your planned out week with a million and one activities like look, because he’s that bitch]

Rio: Do you get bored?

Buster: I’m bored right now

Rio: You’d be bored here too

Buster: You’re making an educated guess which’ll make you feel better about banning me, we don’t know that

Rio: Bored or angry

Rio: you’re always one because you’re ignoring me

Buster: Not everything’s about you, babe

Rio: Oh, we’re back to this

Buster: Why do you want to be the focus of all my anger?

Rio: I don’t

Rio: and I know right now you’re angry at your sister too, obviously

Buster: Something we’ve got in common, you’re welcome

Rio: I don’t care what she has to say about me

Rio: she should’ve stayed home anyway

Buster: And I don’t care what she has to say on any subject

Rio: She just wanted to fuck with you

Rio: she’ll probably throw her own party when she’s back

Buster: Definitely, on both counts

Rio: And Easter is such an easy dress code

Buster: For you, bunny ears and a tail

Rio: Exactly

Rio: not that I’ll be invited this time but your house will still look like a shit petting farm

Buster: Are you asking for an invite or not?

Rio: It’s not your party

Buster: You can still be my guest, if you ask nicely

Rio: oh really

Buster: Really

Buster: if only to prove my anger and boredom have absolutely nothing to do with you

Rio: Of course, totally only that

Buster: Ask me then

Rio: Buster

Buster: You don’t get anything otherwise

Rio: I’ve asked you lots of times for a truce before now and that’s still never happened 

Buster: Maybe you weren’t nice enough

Rio: I’m famously too nice

Buster: It’s famously more about how you ask

Rio: Can I come to the next party?

Buster: No, try again

Rio: Can I be your guest?

Buster: Still no, do you even want to come?

Rio: Only if you want me there

Buster: I want you to remember your manners, it’s typical this is the one time you have none

Rio: Please can I then

Buster: Now I want you to, that word makes such a difference

Rio: You just have to tease me

Buster: You have to be a good girl, everyone needs it from you

Rio: It’s what I do best

Buster: You’ll do better next time

Rio: I thought you hated it

Buster: Why would you think that?

Rio: Because if I’m being a good girl then I’m not doing what you want, remember

Buster: When you’re behaving for someone else no-one’s getting what they want, even the person whose benefit its supposed to be for

Rio: This is why you like rules so much

Buster: You know why they’re important

Rio: I want to please you

Buster: Put the party in your calendar when you aren’t seeing double

Rio: Okay

Rio: my hands aren’t even shaking that much

Buster: What are they doing?

Rio: I’m still at the pub, what could I possibly be doing?

Buster: The possibilities are endless

Rio: I’ve often considered said possibilities

Buster: Of course you have

Rio: It’s less fun alone

Buster: You aren’t alone

Rio: Without you then

Buster: I’m here with you

Rio: I thought you would come, I didn’t think you’d listen

Buster: I always listen

Rio: I thought you always did what you want

Rio: but now I know that can’t be completely true

Buster: I told you, I don’t go where I’m not wanted, wrong twin

Rio: You know you’re wanted

Buster: I know you meant it when you said it

Rio: Only if you continue to ignore me did I even slightly

Buster: Well, I would

Rio: No

Rio: I wouldn’t let you

Buster: My stubbornness against yours

Rio: I’m not stubborn, just persistent

Buster: Yes you are

Rio: Stubborn sounds negative

Rio: I’m trying to make you happy

Buster: I’m not the one asking you to stay positive, bullshit doesn’t make me happy

Rio: If not me then who?

Buster: Every situation doesn’t automatically have a bright side, things are just shit sometimes

Rio: You think this is shit?

Buster: Your brother being kidnapped is, you’re allowed to be upset

Rio: I am upset

Rio: blaming my mum isn’t going to help anything, falling apart wouldn’t either

Buster: Holding it together for everyone else at your expense doesn’t help you

Rio: But I’m fine, there’s nothing going on with me

Buster: And when you fall apart later because you’re not letting yourself feel it now, that doesn’t help them either

Rio: I wouldn’t know how

Buster: I know it’s not something which comes naturally to you, that’s why I’m pushing you

Rio: Now

Rio: what about the rest of the time when I need you

Buster: Whenever we talk

Rio: You never talk to me

Buster: I reply every time you reach out

Rio: Why do you not reach out?

Buster: My life’s almost perfect, remember

Buster: I don’t need you

Rio: You do too

Buster: I’ve been taught to be too self-reliant for that to be true

Rio: You can deny it and be happy enough, probably

Buster: Yeah, I will

Rio: But I’m the one doing it for everyone else

Buster: And you have to stop for yourself, not to please me

Rio: Don’t patronise me

Rio: or make it my fault when it’s yours

Buster: What’s my fault?

Rio: You’re stopping it from happening, because you can’t handle it

Rio: but you put it all on me

Buster: Neither could you

Rio: Could so

Rio: easy

Buster: Tell the truth

Rio: I am, I said no one would ever have to know, it would be easy but you won’t let it be because you get all your validation through doing hard things

Rio: doesn’t necessarily make it right by default 

Buster: We wouldn’t be playing Hide and Seek

Rio: We could be

Buster: Don’t

Rio: Why, what is so wrong with wanting to play with you

Buster: It’s not a game, it never was

Buster: and when you change your mind back, I’m the one who’s wrong and has to find a way to stop

Rio: My mind has never changed

Buster: You said you don’t want anything bad to happen or your family to fall apart, you acknowledged what there is to lose

Rio: Why would we have to lose anything though

Buster: Nothing stays a secret, that’s ego speaking

Rio: No one knows, I’ve wanted you for my entire life and that’s a secret

Buster: Because we haven’t acted on it

Rio: It’s not fair

Buster: Life isn’t, even mine

Rio: You’re so mean

Buster: I’m protecting you, someone fucking should

Rio: It’s not meant to be you

Buster: Who else is going to?

Rio: I don’t know

Buster: Exactly

Rio: Fuck this

Buster: Yeah, I’m not angry all the time for no reason

Rio: It’s your loss

Buster: At least I haven’t totally lost my mind

Rio: Take comfort where you find it, I guess

Buster: I do

Rio: I’d rather be crazy

Buster: You’ll sober up and be less dramatic

Rio: We won’t be talking so who cares

Buster: You, clearly

Rio: You already called me desperate, there's nothing else you can do

Buster: I already told you I don’t want to argue

Rio: We aren’t

Buster: There’s nothing else to say

Rio: There’s never been a discussion

Rio: you think you’re right, end of

Buster: Because I am

Buster: you’re delusional if you think anything about this could or would be easy

Rio: No one pays attention to anything but their own problems, you’re just focused on this because it’s yours

Buster: It isn’t a problem unless you insist on turning it into one by refusing to drop this

Rio: Bullshit

Rio: you’re running away because it’s such a problem

Buster: Fuck you

Rio: Exactly

Buster: You’d let this escalate with no thought for any of the consequences, exactly like your mother does

Rio: We’re arguing now, are we

Buster: Don’t be stupid and we won’t have to

Rio: That’s what I am, we can get to the point

Rio: enough time has been wasted

Buster: You’re wasted

Rio: No I’m pissed off

Buster: You can be both, babe

Rio: You could just not care, like you spend so much time pretending you don’t

Buster: If I could, I would, trust me

Rio: So great, thanks

Buster: You’ll thank me tomorrow, hopefully not literally

Rio: Well I’m already at the airport, so you can have it in person

Buster: Take a car back the other way

Rio: You can’t make me

Buster: I’ll make you want to, if you push me 

Rio: You’re the only one allowed to push, allowed any say, sure

Buster: When what you’re saying is nonsense, yeah

Rio: You don’t get to decide that either

Buster: You’ve forfeited decision making, bold to assume they’ll actually put you on a plane

Rio: It would serve you right if I was serious

Buster: But instead you’re being ridiculous, I know

Rio: You deserve that too, so whatever

Buster: You get to decide that, do you?

Rio: Yes because I’m reacting to how you’ve treated me

Buster: You’re threatening me after telling me I could trust you

Rio: Threatening you?

Rio: No, I’m just treating you half as dumb as you’ve treated me

Buster: You’re overreacting, all I’ve done is try to keep shit under control

Rio: As soon as it got too real for you

Buster: It can’t be real

Rio: Nothing about you can be

Buster: My future is, you don’t get to fuck mine up because you don’t have one

Rio: Unlike you, I wouldn’t wish you otherwise

Buster: I’ve worked too hard for you to ruin everything

Rio: I don’t give a fuck about your perfect future dreams, you can have them

Rio: only in your head am I getting in the way

Buster: If you don’t give a fuck about what matters to me, it proves you would

Rio: You are the delusional one

Buster: Hardly

Buster: I already think about you constantly and nothing has ever happened to give me cause to, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how distracting you’d be if something did

Rio: You can’t handle it?

Rio: you’re surrounded by distractions

Buster: No I’m not, they’re all irrelevant, easy to dismiss

Rio: Yeah because all you do is your homework and extracurriculars

Buster: I need good grades and my extracurriculars to go to America, they don’t treat international students differently at Harvard, there’s no special treatment, it’s on merit

Rio: You’ll get them

Buster: Making it look effortless doesn’t mean it is

Rio: Didn’t say it was

Rio: just the obvious sarcasm that that’s not all you do or care about

Buster: I play as hard as I work, that’s the balance I achieve when you aren’t throwing me off

Rio: We see each other a handful of times in a year

Rio: I couldn’t possibly do any more damage than the rest of your playing

Buster: Now

Buster: but you’d really be at the airport more than a handful of times in a hypothetical where I behaved how you’re asking me to

Rio: It isn’t going to happen now so it’s irrelevant as well as entirely hypothetical 

Buster: Thanks to my damage limitation it isn’t

Rio: Call it what you want to

Rio: if that makes you feel in control

Buster: It’s what it is, and it’s always fucking me who has to do it

Rio: You make every right yours and every wrong mine, no matter the actual tally

Buster: You are wrong, you force me to talk to you, you walk into every family event batting your eyelashes and wearing the shortest dress imaginable, you’re unrelenting

Rio: What I look like isn’t for your attention

Buster: Bullshit, you do it all on purpose

Rio: Fuck off, are you serious

Buster: Are you seriously trying to tell me you don’t want me to look at you?

Rio: I want to look good, end of

Buster: So I don’t cross your mind when you pick an outfit?

Rio: Not anymore, doesn’t mean I’m going to buy a hijab for your comfort

Buster: Are you going to block me or keep taking pictures for me?

Rio: What do you think

Buster: That you’d only unblock me too

Rio: yeah

Buster: You’re so dangerous

Rio: You wouldn’t be interested if I wasn’t

Buster: You could at least try and do me the favour of being uninteresting

Rio: I do, I bore you to tears

Buster: You don’t

Rio: You can take it back in the morning when you’re sober

Rio: I won’t message you

Buster: We can’t take it back, that’s my point

Rio: My point is watch

Rio: you’ll scrub this all and not bring a single thing up

Buster: You know I don’t do things by halves

Rio: Suppose you can have that

Buster: All or nothing, and it’s only the latter I can have

Rio: You should’ve stayed off the drink in your mood

Buster: There’s no fairytale ending to make this okay for us, time passing was your mum’s and not actually being related was my parents’

Rio: I’m not actually stupid

Rio: I’ve not once said we could be together

Buster: We couldn’t be casual

Rio: You seem to think so

Buster: I wouldn’t know how to

Rio: That’s what you do

Rio: If anything it’s a departure for me, not you 

Buster: With girls who aren’t you

Rio: You think I’d be clingy

Buster: No, that’s not it

Rio: You could ask any of my exes

Rio: okay, maybe not all of them 

Buster: If any of them said a single negative thing about you I’d knock their teeth out

Rio: You still want to protect me then

Buster: Of course I do

Rio: You must be a good boy 

Buster: Doubtful, given the immediate and sincere threat of violence toward all of your exes

Rio: Yeah but you’d rather that than cross the line 

Buster: Because of how badly and completely I want to cross it

Buster: I’m being selfish, as usual

Rio: You are

Rio: but you’re doing the ‘right’ thing or whatever so you’re probably still up good boy points in the long run

Buster: I won’t hold my breath for another trophy, God is as fictional as Santa or the Easter Bunny

Rio: Not who you’re trying to impress at any given time

Rio: IDK who’s in charge at Harvard Law but probably isn’t the big man

Buster: [Someone from her socials clearly] isn’t your new boyfriend, is he?

Rio: Not yet, no

Buster: Not yet?

Rio: I don’t know if it’ll be him but I’m tired of being alone

Buster: Great

Rio: What?

Buster: You’re definitely committed to boring me to tears

Rio: There’s no alternative, you said so

Buster: Blame me for plenty but not your lack of taste

Rio: Unless there’s a congrats to give out I don’t know about, you aren’t going to be interested in any of my boyfriends

Buster: It’s not a coming out party, no

Rio: I’ve seen the posts

Buster: I’ll go and do some more post worthy shit for you then

Rio: You have the audacity to be mad

Buster: You said it, you’ll fall for him or whoever else, that’s what you do

Rio: You want my future to be nothing

Rio: you go off and have your perfect life and I pine after you? I don’t think so

Buster: I’m not going for years

Rio: Why does that matter if nothing is happening

Buster: How many more exes are you going to have?

Rio: As many as I want

Rio: it’s nothing to do with you

Buster: They’re exes because of me, you don’t want them

Rio: shut up

Buster: Why should I? You’re going to make me watch you get with each one

Rio: I’ll just stay untouched then, for your sake

Rio: that’s not an unbelievable thing for you to ask

Buster: You don’t just let them touch you, you let everyone believe it’s deeper than that, them, me, yourself

Rio: It will have to be

Buster: It doesn’t, none of them are your future

Rio: I’m not going to find that person without looking

Buster: Look when I leave

Rio: You can’t keep telling me what to do

Buster: You can’t do what you’re told

Rio: Not for no reward

Buster: So much for being too nice and our truce

Buster: the reward’s meant to be not hurting me

Rio: You called it off first

Rio: but I’ll think about it

Buster: You do that, babe

Rio: Prick

Buster: You want me to care until I show it in a way you don’t like

Rio: I don’t like it because you aren’t giving up anything

Buster: I don’t have girlfriends

Rio: If I stopped calling them my boyfriends, would you feel better?

Rio: Or would you still be mad

Buster: Would you feel any different about them without the label?

Rio: No, it’s just a word

Buster: Then it’s beside the point

Rio: Exactly

Rio: You’re jealous

Buster: I give you fuck all to be jealous of

Rio: You not caring about them doesn’t mean that I don’t

Buster: You’d rather pretend the distinction doesn’t exist so you aren’t doing anything wrong

Rio: I don’t want any of this

Buster: No, you want to see me a handful of times and your boyfriends the rest

Rio: And somehow that’s more hurtful than me existing solely to ruin your future in your eyes

Buster: At least in my eyes you’re important, what the fuck am I to you?

Rio: I’m trying to forget you so I don’t spend the rest of my life missing you

Buster: With [this poor boy we now hate], yeah?

Rio: I have no idea how or with who

Buster: Don’t

Rio: I know what the alternative is, remember

Buster: I wish I didn’t have to remember

Rio: Imagine if your parents hadn’t been together this whole time

Rio: that’s what she was like, how lost

Buster: I don’t need to imagine, that’s what it’s like

Rio: We can’t live like that, we have to try

Buster: We can’t live like my parents, we’re not

Rio: I know

Buster: You don’t, I’m the prick for not giving in, but one of us has to stay strong

Rio: If we’re going to miss each other anyway, why does it matter, what’s the point

Buster: The point is, I’d give up everything for you without you even asking me to, because I’m that much like them

Rio: But you aren’t, you know you can’t

Buster: I know I shouldn’t, but I would

Rio: I wouldn’t let you

Rio: the problem is you still think I would

Buster: You don’t know any better either, it isn’t your fault

Rio: You know what you’re meant to do, it isn’t be with me, staying with me

Buster: I’m not meant to want you at all, knowing that doesn’t change the fact

Rio: It’s no one’s business

Buster: It’d affect everyone

Rio: What do we do?

Buster: For once I’ve got no idea

Rio: What timing, boy

Buster: Yeah

Rio: My chest hurts

Buster: You have to force yourself to breathe deeper and slower than you are

Rio: I’ll go out for a smoke

Buster: Good

Rio: Can’t move for bodies tonight but that’s usual for the night

Buster: I’d be able to move you but you banned me from being one of the masses

Rio: Yeah and if anything that should be exactly what you wanted me to do

Buster: Add to it the list of shoulds if you want

Rio: It’s too long to think about 

Buster: I shouldn’t call you but that’s exactly what I’m going to do when we’re both outside

Rio: Shouldn’t might be a more interesting list

Rio: definitely, actually

Buster: It’s been ages since I last lectured you and you won’t listen and breathe properly otherwise

Rio: Please

Buster: Fight your way out and let me know when

Rio: Okay, I could go through everyone’s legs, if I commit to it

Buster: We’ve already debated how committed you are to me

Rio: If you’d have asked nicely, I really would’ve gone to the airport

Buster: You’re not willing to consider a nunnery however nicely I ask though

Rio: Of course you’re not jealous of women, typical

Buster: You haven’t been out with any

Rio: What else is there to do at a nunnery, I’d not have a lot of choice

Buster: You go to church all the time, what is there to do at a service with your other nan?

Rio: I might tell you when I get outside

Buster: You want me to be jealous of God as well

Rio: You could come to church, she’d love that

Buster: Fully convince Nance I’m having the breakdown she accused me of

Rio: Why not, may as well run with the dig

Buster: Americans love that bullshit, it’d probably secure my uni place

Rio: Don’t say I never do nothing for you

Buster: You do too much for and to me

Rio: You’re allowed to look, you’re only human

Buster: That’s a very cruel thing to say, babe

Buster: if there was a God, he’d totally be jealous of me

Rio: Oh my God

Rio: and that’s blasphemy, babe

Buster: Still true, regardless

Rio: Shut up and call me

Buster: [do and don’t say anything for a sec, just do some breaths so she will too]

Rio: [can practically hear you straining to hear him in the sense you’re literally holding your breath for a moment to make sure you’re hearing him and not yourself but you will let that one out eventually and do your best to copy him]

Buster: [catch him quietly calling her a good girl when she eventually does breathe, no regrets despite all his earlier protests to the contrary]

Rio: [bite your lip so the !! reaction cannot fully come out because you’re trying not to have him hang up immediately ‘why I go to church’ said quietly also, like it’s a joke but it’s lowkey not]

Buster: [‘so you’ll go to heaven without me’ like they gotta be and stay that desperate to avoid each other at all costs teehee but we’re using the same tone of it not being bantsy and still being quiet and serious]

Rio: [making a noise like I don’t know about that ‘be rude of me to bagsy heaven’ like can’t also take that from you]

Buster: [‘you know I could take you there’ the blasphemy strikes again lol but we gotta be saucy and brag at all times, nbd]

Rio: [‘should’ quiet enough you could be forgiven for thinking she didn’t mean for you to hear that but she did because could’ve just not said it at all]

Buster: [‘where I should be right now isn’t up for debate’ because he should be with her in dublin obvs but we can all pretend he means he should be inside]

Rio: [‘I am sorry’ because you are even if you felt very entitled at the time to ban him/also did not think he’d listen to you]

Buster: [‘yeah you are’ because we smugly know that to be true, especially in this moment where y’all are flirting over the phone]

Rio: [a noise like oh excuse me but you can’t be serious because it’s true and you obviously wish he was here, especially right now ‘that the lesson you wanted to teach me?’]

Buster: [a noise like mhmm yes because where’s the lie you petty bitch staying away and throwing a party just because she dared to say she didn’t want you to come ‘what else do you want me to teach you?’]

Rio: [doing a very put-on tut-tut at him, can hear you shaking your head because of your hair brushing against the speakers, a small laugh like that would be telling but it’s a laugh punctuated with a blink-and-you-miss-it NOISE]

Buster: [the kind of breath that’s not quite a gasp but isn’t at all far off because now he’s THINKING about her hair and that can’t not have an effect when it’s so iconic ‘tell me’ because that’s like his catchphrase he always says it and insists she do]

Rio: [blurting out the ‘teach me-’ without absolutely no clue what else to say there purely because he told you to so you had to respond, saying it again to emphasise the lack of an unfinished sentence this time, like not - full stop thank you]

Buster: [‘everything I know’ because we all know he’s that bitch, no less than giving her everything will ever do and we’re starting as we mean to go on with forever being that bitch]

Rio: [nodding enthusiastically so he can hear again before you’ve even managed to get your ‘please’ out after having to do the biggest swallow ever]

Buster: [doing the gasp he did not before because that nod was so enthusiastic ‘since you remembered to ask nicely’ doing his own nod for her, because he has his own epic curls]

Rio: [breathing out so shakily, all thoughts of big deep breaths are so out the window in this moment lol ‘it would look good if you tutored me’ like Americans also love that, btw hehe]

Buster: [a lil hot lol because he likes the way she thinks and that is an undeniably impressive idea, he loves to see it ‘but you’re so smart’ in a pouty manner like oh no nobody will ever believe that you need me to, but also he do think she is, sincerely]

Rio: [now you’re shaking your head like nay nay ‘I’ll be so dumb for you’ because simply must, not about to see you tutoring someone else in the manner y’all are imagining currently]

Buster: [‘would you fail every subject for me?’ like how committed are you to the bit aka me because we all know he’s obsessed with her, he’s a child of baze]

Rio: [‘yes’ as a gasp more than the word itself because no truer answer ‘I want to be retaught everything I think I know by you’]

Buster: [the tiniest but most meaningful noise in response to her gasped word, kinda like an oh but forever more !! ‘I’ll rewire your brain better than [insert the era’s slang for ketamine because that does for people with pain and depression etc, deliberately using dublin slang though not posh chelsea, because we simply must]’ we love that lil detail of using her slang and also the confidence]

Rio: [lowkey near dropping your phone you react so dramatically and physically to what he’s just said, this fumble will stop your moan being as loud as it could’ve and would’ve been and he’s only catching the tail-end as you recover somewhat ‘like a baby’ is all you’re managing to coherently say, giving factory reset]

Buster: [he’ll be inwardly dying nevertheless, we all know, because she’s only almost dropping her phone for one reason and we love everything about how she’s reacting, plus the idea of her being a baby and therefore his baby and the daddy energy of it all that y’all have inevitably gone down the path of ‘you’ll make me change my own mind about them’ because was a baby hater before but he’s so here for this and that’s OBVIOUS in his tone]

Rio: [‘you’ll be in charge of mine’ like it’s only fair I get to change yours on something too but we’re too far gone for this to be anything but a STATEMENT of fact here and now said so seriously yet so insanely]

Buster: [‘I’ll own yours, it’ll be mine’ cos sis we can be extra af too and we’re as far gone atm, this is why he was fighting things so hard while he still could because once y’all start he’s so far in lol]

Rio: [‘already is’ like let’s not lie to ourselves here, you know we’re already obsessed with you too, we’re only trying to play it cool to not get our heart absolutely shattered but we’re drunk and we’ve started this now]

Buster: [‘not yet’ but said like it will be though and not like he’s salty about it the way he is and was about her daring to have any feelings for her bfs instead of being a sociopath]

Rio: [‘feels like yours’ for all that double meaning hanging in the TENSION here on this phone call]

Buster: [‘you’ve always felt like you should belong to me’ just blurting that out not at all casually, emphasis on the should, clearly, as if it’s top of the list they haven’t made]

Rio: [a noise of emphatic agreement because yes I have, what else needs to be said ‘you should have me’]

Buster: [catch him saying her name for literally the first time ever, as emphatically, because that needs to be said rn immediately]

Rio: [realising, all at once, that you haven’t heard him say your name in what feels like forever and not at all being okay about it, whispering his back like you have lost the ability to speak]

Buster: [having the same realisation, in his case literally being hit by a mem of whenever the last time you said it to her was and exactly how long ago, therefore hitting her with it in whatever measurement he does his uni escape countdown whether that’s days or what, just hitting her with a big number out of nowhere here but she’ll know exactly what it is, I imagine the last time he said it being during their truth or dare kiss moment, so it really would be forever] 

Rio: [making the saddest little noise ever because you do know what it is and you’d obviously been shielding yourself from truly thinking about and knowing that it had been that long so now you’re on the verge of tears and confronted by it but he also did say it again so conflicting emotions]

Buster: [‘I’m sorry’ because you truly are that it has had to be this way for so long but he genuinely knew of no other way to try and deal with this, shakily because he’s having his own shock at the reality of it being that length of time that’s passed and his feelings not changing at all and only getting stronger if anything]

Rio: [‘I know’ sincerely, even if your voice is thick with emotion, because he’s only trying to do the right thing even when you wish he would not, repeating it softer, whether you’re trying to comfort him or yourself remains unknown but it’s both]

Buster: [‘don’t cry, babe’ as much like a verbal hug as possible because he likewise is trying to comfort her, not that there’s much y’all can actually offer for this situation but still]

Rio: [doing the laugh you do when you are crying but you’re like okay I’ll stop, wiping her eyes and making noises to say it’s fine whilst not literally saying those words]

Buster: [making all the comforting noises down the phone that he can think of ‘no-one can say we didn’t do our best to fight it’ because that’s comforting to him that he has spent all this time really trying even if it won’t be enough for the haters because no amount of time would]

Rio: [using your maths brain to put 14 years and a bit into days or whatever so it sounds suitably impressive like yes, ages, suck it haters]

Buster: [‘exactly’ because it does sound suitably impressive ‘and if I try again tomorrow, try to remember I actually desperately want you’ because drunk him knows what sober him will wanna do and that’s backpedal lol, deliberate use of the word desperate there, with so much emphasis]

Rio: [‘when’ as the correction you know it is but the gentle way you’re doing it shows you’re too drunk and too in this moment to be angry at him yet ‘but say the last bit again’]

Buster: [‘when I do, don’t forget’ a deliberate pause before the last bit for emphasis and because !! ‘how much I want you and that I barely like anyone else at all’]

Rio: [just here breathing down the phone in a way that is only hot because y’all want each other this bad, not replying to the point you’ll assume she isn’t going to but ‘I like you too’ just in case he believed you when you said you hated him lol]

Buster: [unable to stop himself from fully moaning down this phone in response when she finally replies because he did not think she was going to and he’s so worked up by her dramatic breathing the entire time not to mention what she actually says when she finally does that he simply cannot keep it in, quietly by the standards of his loud ass and how extra we know he could be in other circumstances but nevertheless still unapologetically a moan, so]

Rio: [‘be here’ as an impatient demand in response, your pout being so obvious in how frustrated you sound, as if he can magically appear from the sheer force of how bad you want it now]

Buster: [‘say please’ automatically despite the fact it’ll make no real difference he always just wants to hear and make her say it, shamelessly as his own impatient demand as if that’s the only reason he isn’t and her doing it will magically transport him there]

Rio: [when the way you whine it could be a pisstake but it isn’t and we all know it, you are genuinely there and as shamelessly willing to, no fucks given to the fact you’re only outside not somewhere properly private]

Buster: [the way he says ‘good girl’ again so indecently could equally be a pisstake but equally is not and is as shameless and with the same lack of fuck’s given to being in his garden assumedly where I doubt he’s alone given there’s a party going on, soz everyone he’s too turned on rn to register anything but that]

Rio: [there’s no way either of you is alone enough for this but do we care, of course not ‘yours, even when you won’t have me’ because sober you cannot change the fact sir]

Buster: [‘my baby’ because the first use of baby ever is appropriate for rn precisely because it isn’t appropriate for rn, thank god Nancy isn’t here]

Rio: [did us a favour miss flop because y’all need this right now ‘don’t forget, daddy’ as if you can will him through being blackout by being as extra and as real as possible]

Buster: [‘don’t let me’ also as if by her doing the absolute most rn he won’t, which is lowkey true whatever sober you tries to say hun lbr, all of this isn’t getting completely erased even if pieces of it might]

Rio: [mhmm, you’ll not acknowledge anything but that doesn’t mean you won’t remember it sweetie and that’s all we’ve got right now so running with it, doing soft but erratic little pants that make it very clear how you’re feeling, saying please again like he’s just teasing you at this point by not being with you]

Buster: [likewise doing every little noise you have to rn down the phone without holding any of them back so it’s as clear how you’re feeling, saying fuck when she says please like you’re continuing her sentence and thought, like a breathless near whisper that’s catching because you can’t go the opposite way and be loud af but you want to]

Rio: [‘I’m so ruined for anyone but you, Jesus, I need you’ couldn’t be begging him more right now because no room for shame when you’re dying and this feels like your only shot to let him know lowkey]

Buster: [‘you’re flawless’ because the opposite of ruined but also the truest thing ever in every sense of the word and something he says at some point in every version of ruster that we’ve done in recent times, so, this time so immediately that he’s basically talking over the other part of her sentence, that’s how urgently he needs her to know]

Rio: [a noise that’s like oh but you’re too turned on for it to sound as sincerely as that will actually hit when you aren’t and you’re blatantly going over everything you remember later, so then you’re giggling in this moment because you sounded funny and you can’t deal with him, very much the vocal equivalent of heart eyes]

Buster: [when you can’t even remember the last time you heard her laugh and even if you could it wouldn’t have sounded like it does rn so a noise like you’ve been winded by it or something, just the hottest most extra noise about this because it’s so sincerely like omg and your own verbal equivalent of not being able to deal and loving everything about her in this moment]

Rio: [y’all are here having too marvellous of a time and truly being so in love you can’t even put words to it, just truly stunned by how this is making you feel, like you knew it would be good or you wouldn’t be this obsessed but you still could not prepare yourself for the depth of !! and emotion you’re casually feeling from some phone sex, hence the ‘shit’ like you’re in trouble but you couldn’t care less]

Buster: [mhmm this boy hasn’t even touched himself once because he isn’t alone enough to be able to and yet, still this is not at all casually the best thing that has ever happened in a way y’all could not have remotely seen coming ‘I know’ because everything she’s feeling, you also are]

Rio: [‘how can you not want this?’ at future him like come on because feeling like you NEED this forever casually, which we know logically is his point but unconcerned right now and just want him to tell you he does]

Buster: [‘I do, more than anything’ because that is his point, he doesn’t know how to want her in any other way but an all-consuming one when she’s the love of his life and as a child of baze there is only the one approach to that he’s ever been taught]

Rio: [‘me too’ said in this moment like that settles it because for right now it can and you’re not hearing otherwise, can come back down to reality soon enough]

Buster: [‘tell me’ because always, give him all the unnecessary emphasis that you possibly could about that thanks very much]

Rio: [just absolutely regale him with how you want to be with him, how you could be, all the things you could do, not stopping to be realistic anywhere because we don’t have to be but it’s not all total fantasy and nonsense, the way this is going to leave you fighting for your life casually nbd]

Buster: [likewise, he’ll be doing a MOAN with a much more frantic and !! edge to it as he listens to this and lets himself go with it and actually believe it because simply must, not to mention having to then join in with his own things, thoughts and feelings, despite the fact breathing and talking would feel so ridiculously impossible rn and he knows damn well he’s gonna cum soon even though they’re just talking]

Rio: [oh lads, never change, this is so iconic yet also heartbreaking of y’all, you are without a doubt going to cum from this because truly your fantasy doesn’t begin to cover it, excuse me to anyone/everyone who is vaguely near because it’s so obvious, even when we have to ruin it by not fully losing ourselves to not be totally indecent, still losing control enough for it to happen so yep, you better run back inside to safety miss, even if it is to the nearest bathroom stall you can shut yourself in to give yourself a damn minute]

Buster: [^^ everything my boo said, she’s so right, I’m happy for y’all but so sad for you at the same time, thank god this isn’t it because imagine, soz not soz to his friends who are messy bitches no doubt doing all kinds of their own shit so they won’t bat an eye at your blatant phone sex even if they might wonder why the fuck you’re doing it in the middle of your party and who with lol, likewise go to the en-suite we always give you and clean yourself up because the absolute mess he would be from how hard that killed him, especially because y’all had to hold back volume wise which is not easy for him to do, the question is, which one of you hung up first, enquiring evil Winnies wanna know]

Rio: [evil winnies gotta be evil I fear, it was probably her, not in a boss babe move but literally almost accidentally and practically in your sprint to the bathroom because you are just a girl and you don’t need someone taking too much notice and trying to start something now]

Buster: [that tracks I agree, are you happy now Win you dramatic lil man? This boy will be collapsing on his bed dramatically after all this and his drunk attempt at a clean up operation (however successful or not, I imagine you’re still covered in the evidence so good luck forgetting haha) meanwhile, with no fucks given to the being called a lightweight allegations, because so dead in every sense after the rollercoaster this st paddy’s has been]

Rio: [he’s never satisfied the lil beastie but y’all are, even though you’ve now got to just be in this pub with all the people in the world like that didn’t just happen lol, thank god you are fam so you can find somewhere to hide because you likewise need and want to and will message him when you have found said place]

[silverfoxstole]

I love that photo. It's from the Shada recording in 2003.

Exerpt from the article it accompanied in DWM:

THE FAN GENE

DOCTOR WHO MAGAZINE 328 2ND APRIL 2003

BY GARY GILLATT

“So, Paul…do people ever run up to you in the street shouting ‘Hello, Doctor!’?”

“Really, really occasionally. It’s my experience that the more ardent Whovians tend to go dry in the mouth. I think I twig when someone’s a Doctor Who fan, in a shop or in a restaurant, because they just stand there in silence staring at me. But generally speaking, because I’ve done other things as well, the attention I get and the conversations I have about my work in the street or wherever, it’s hardly ever about Doctor Who.”

“You get quotes from Withnail and I shouted at you, I imagine?”

“Oh, yeah. That and The Monocled Mutineer seem to be what people immediately associate me with. I get a lot more attention for those two. Hardly a day passes without someone offering up a Withnail quote – ‘Ice in the cider’, ‘Cake and fine wines’. Especially if I’m ordering drinks at the bar.”

“So you’ve never had a bizarre experience with a Doctor Who fan in a shoe shop, then?”

“Why, is that where they live?”

“Not especially. It’s just that I can imagine you trying on a new pair of trainers as a nervous assistant suddenly blurts out ‘These shoes! They fit perfectly!’”

“Oh, I said that in the movie, didn’t I? I get you. Is that a catchphrase for my Doctor now?”

“I suspect that much of his character in hundreds of novels, comic strips and audio plays has been based upon your delivery of that one line.”

“How funny… But no, I don’t get that from Whovians. They just stare at me. It’s the stare that gives them away. That and a general, um… physical appearance. The thing is, I suspect that when other people recognise me they think ‘Oh, look, it’s Paul McGann’. When a Whovian sees me, maybe their first thought is ‘Oh my God, it’s Doctor Who!’ Perhaps they freeze because they don’t see the actor who plays the character, they just see their hero walking down the street. That must come as a shock.”

I can imagine. In fact, it happened to me just a few hours earlier, but I’m not going to tell Paul McGann that. I’m in Bristol to talk to Paul about his work in the BBCi remake of Shada. I knew I would be meeting Paul, and I was totally prepared for meeting Paul, but when I first spotted him across the green room at the recording studios, for the briefest of moments, for half a heartbeat, my brain screamed ‘Oh my God, it’s Doctor Who!’ – before struggling to adopt a suitably cool, blasé attitude. At the time I put this down to that fact that Paul had grown his hair long, reoccupying his Doctor-ish silhouette. [Given the timing, presumably because he was playing Bush again in Hornblower] But perhaps this reaction is symptomatic of something more deep-seated.

Maybe my decades-long relationship with Doctor Who really has reprogrammed my character recognition software. Sitcom stars Andrew Sachs and Melvyn Hayes were also in the room at the time, and I didn’t find myself hopping from foot to foot shouting ‘Look, it’s Manuel and Gloria!’ Neither did I feel the need to ask Sean Biggerstaff how this year’s Gryffindor Quidditch team training was going.

…Such serious blurring of fact and fiction must surely be symptomatic of some kind of mental disorder, one feels. But if so, how does this square with my own fleeting confusion of Paul McGann and the Eighth Doctor, for example? Have all my years of watching Doctor Who, reading about Doctor Who and looking at pictures of Doctor Who affected my own perceptions? And Paul McGann says he gets this all the time. I can’t, therefore, be the only one with this bizarre affliction…

When I return to London I ask a group of fan friends if they have ever experienced a similar sense of confusion. One tells me of a time he introduced himself to Elisabeth Sladen with the words ‘Hello, Sarah,” while another recalls an occasion when, upon realising Tom Baker was walking down the street towards him, he ran into a branch of Somerfield out of sheer fright.

I’d hoped that Paul McGann, who is a relative newcomer to Doctor Who, would offer some fresh insights into fan behaviour. This theory is all very well, but it turns out he hasn’t actually met very many Doctor Who fans, as they apparently just stare from a distance. Only a few have ever plucked up the courage to speak.

“Of course, every now and then someone does want to talk about Doctor Who,” Paul told me. “What’s charming about that, though, is that it’s obvious that they don’t want it to seem like it’s Doctor Who they want to talk about. They go round the houses, and display and amazing knowledge of my CV, before saying, ‘And you were great in Doctor Who’. That isn’t so much the giveaway itself, so much as the finale of ‘And you still are, of course…’ which is always said with a twinkle in the eye.”

[f1united]

Ensemble - Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your Arthur Leclercs best friend. So why, after a random night in London, are you falling for his brother?

Chapter One: The Start

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and sex.

Word Count: 5.8k

Note: This chapter begins in London and is marked where it switches to Mykonos. There are then some flashbacks mixed in so just watch out for those. Let me know your thoughts, enjoy!

*****

Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Not long after Pierre had joined your table, Charles emerged from the toilets. Pierre had waved his hands to inform him of his updated location as he sat in the empty seat, unknowingly signing himself up for a night full of girly gossip and drama. The evening was spent reminiscing on childhood memories and sharing stories. It wasn't until Nat checked her phone that you realised how late it was getting.

"We better get going," She announced as she checked her phone. "The last train is in half an hour." You lived just outside of London which meant that most nights out were cut short by trains unless you had booked a hotel. You hummed in agreement as you finished your drink watching as Pierre began to whisper in Lucy's ear. They'd been flirting all night so her next sentence didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I'm going to chill with Pierre for a bit, I'll find my own way home tomorrow" The rest of the girls saw it coming too.

"Are you sure?" Katie asked. "I don't want you ending up in London on your own with no way home." She had a point. London could be quite daunting when it was late and dark, especially if you weren't a local.

"Well why don't you stay too?" Charles nodded his head towards you as he spoke. "That way you could leave together." Not one part of you questioned Charles' intentions as he spoke. He remained the responsible 'Arthur's older brother' that was being sensible and mature, making sure that everyone got home safely.

"If that's alright with you?" Your question was answered with a nod of his head. You all began to grab your things and headed outside, saying your goodbyes, telling them to text you when they were home safe as they encouraged you to do the same. By the time they'd headed for the station, Pierre and Lucy were already nowhere to be seen.

"I'm not sure about you but I'm in no rush to go back to the apartment just yet!" You spoke to Charles as you looked at the night sky above you.

"Where do you want to go in the meantime?"

“Have you ever explored London before?" You answered his question with one of your own. He shook his head. "So you haven't seen all beautiful sites it has to offer." The sarcasm was evident in your voice as you pointed down the alley way you were walking past full of black bins and plastic bags full of rubbish.

"I've only ever been here to celebrate races and I can't say I've seen much other than the inside of some bars and restaurants.”

"Well you're in for a long night Leclerc." Two hours ago Charles wanted nothing more than for him and Pierre to go back to the apartment. The lack of alcohol he'd consumed throughout the night was only adding to the tiredness he'd accumulated over the race weekend. However as you dragged him through the streets of London he realised there was no place he'd rather be.

You'd ridden Boris bikes alongside the River Thames, shown him your favourite restaurant in Covent Garden and taken him through Piccadilly Circus all the way to Oxford Street where closed shops lined the dark streets, pointing out your favourite ones as you cycled past. He never did things like this. As a F1 driver it was difficult for him to go almost anywhere without going unnoticed but tonight not one person had recognised him because for the night he was just a normal person with another normal person having a good time. 

After abandoning the Boris bikes at the nearest drop off point you both headed towards the apartment. It belonged to Charles' mother and was often used by you and Arthur whenever he'd come to visit and couldn't stay with you.

"You seem happier than when I last saw you." His comment made you smile. It was all he could think about as you wondered through the dark streets. The last time you'd seen him you'd just broken up with your ex. Your relationship had been on and off for years but you'd finally called it quits for good. It didn't take a genius to see the relationship was making you unhappy, the anxiety, tears and sleepless nights were picked up on by everyone albeit your efforts to hide it. Arthur was the only person who truly knew what was going on and it hurt him to see his best friend in so much pain when she thought she was in love.

"Thank you, I'm in a much better place now. I've had time to focus on myself." You'd completely lost yourself throughout the time you were together, focusing so much on what he'd wanted and expected rather than what made you happy. The situation had increased your maturity and for that reason you were grateful your first heartbreak had come at such a young age. You'd correctly assumed that Arthur had made Charles aware of your sensitiveness to the situation to some extent as he made no further comments. 

He had approached Arthur with concern after your last meeting. Despite a fun grand prix weekend you'd been blinking back tears and spent most of the time with a blank expression on your face. He hated it. He could see you trying to compose yourself, when he came to thank you for coming you'd done your best to smile, your voice was laced with excitement, but your eyes were empty, drained of emotion. He was grateful to see it had made its way back.

"Did you know I've never been to Harrods?" His random fact was a relief as he quickly changed the subject, allowing your mind to be brought back to the present rather than the dark times from the past.

"Even I've been to Harrods Charles. We should go tomorrow, you'd have a field day in the clothes section." As a part time student most of your spare money went into savings, a fund you'd created for your planned travels when you were done with your studies. It wasn't very often that you brought yourself nice things so despite your multiple trips to Harrods, you'd never actually purchased anything. You could see him deliberating your suggestion in his head. 

"You can wear sunglasses and a hat with your mask, just don't wear a bright red Ferrari top and I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves to ourselves."

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" His question brought you back to reality slightly.

"I'll call in sick?" you offered. It suddenly occurred to you that this was the longest time you and Charles had ever been alone together and the idea of leaving wasn't something that you wanted to think about just yet. 

Charles opened the apartment door with caution, neither of you wanted to interrupt your friend’s spontaneous night, nor hear any of the antics they were getting up to. You frowned at each other as you stepped into the entrance corridor. There were no faint voices, no mumbling or laughs, just the hum of the city that echoed through the slightly open window.

“Maybe they didn’t come back here,” your judgement became increasingly more likely as you followed Charles towards the kitchen and stood around the island.

“I’ll send him a text.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped away before placing it on the marble countertop. It lit up with Pierre's reply not long after he'd set it down. “They went to some hotel, apparently he’s dropping her home in a second.”

“He’s not the type to bring girls back to his home turf then,” you took the bag off your shoulder and placed in on the counter, grabbing a hair tie from inside and gathering your locks into a low ponytail. “Smart move.” Charles shrugged his shoulders at your observation.

He’d never really thought about it before, but he was the same. The few casual hook ups that he’d had over the years had never been in places he spent a lot of time like his house in Monaco, or his favourite holiday home in Mykonos, and never this apartment. Sure, he’d slept with people in those cities, but never in his space. You were right though; it was easier to forget about the crime if you never returned to the scene.

"Do you have anything I can change into?" 

“There’s a top on the end of my bed.” You thanked him as you made your way towards his room. “I’ll grab some of my things so I can crash on the sofa once you’ve changed.” You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him as you stood in the doorway.

“I’m not kicking an f1 driver out of their own bed Charles, especially not post race weekend.” You crossed your arms as you lent against the door frame. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He argued.

“It’s one night Charles, I really don’t mind.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He repeated.

“Well then it looks like we’re sharing the bed.” Your words not only surprised you, but also Charles. Neither of you were sure where this increased confidence had come from, but you didn’t want it to become awkward, so you tried to justify your statement. “Me and Arthur used to share a bed all the time!”

The look on his face as your eyes met with his across the room was one you’d so desperately been seeking without realising it. His head cocked, eyebrows raised and small smirk tugging its way onto his lips provided reassurance, giving you the confidence to confirm that this relationship was very different to your one with Arthur. You already knew it, you had felt it every time you’d looked at him since you were about 16, but this was the first time you could say with certainty that it was reciprocated.

Charles was dying to climb into bed with you. To wrap his arms around you and stay like it all night. He didn’t care about the fact that your hair would be in his face or that his arm would most likely be dead within the first half an hour. He just wanted you there with him, so he could learn things about you that he didn’t already know and fall asleep with the scent of your faded perfume beneath his nose. He suggested that he’d sleep on the sofa because he knew that wasn’t what you were implying. 

“I’ll stay on my side,” you offered. “Promise.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Charles was a respectful man, he wouldn’t cross boundaries without permission, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without your touch. The thought of your body lying so tantalisingly close to his while dressed in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts was driving him crazy.

“I’m a very good sleeper, you won’t even know I’m there.”

You couldn’t stop listing reasons for Charles to join you. He wished you would stop; his head was already full of so many.

“Well go and get comfy and I’ll join you in a minute,” In that moment he made the decision to give in knowing that if this was the only chance he got to lay in bed with you he'd take the opportunity, whether your bodies were intertwined or not. “Do you need a drink or anything?”

“A water would be great!” You smiled as you turned around and headed to the bedroom. Charles spent the next few minutes alone in the kitchen trying to convince himself that this was a bad idea. That it was wrong. You were his brother’s best friend and he shouldn't be this nervous or excited to lay next to you, but no matter how hard he tried to dislike the situation he couldn’t because it just felt right.

By the time he joined you in bed you’d already made yourself incredibly comfortable. He chuckled at the site of you tangled in the duvet before climbing in next to you. You laid facing each other and remained that way as you chatted about memories from the past. Childhood holidays and his earliest racing days to you latest life plans and hopes for the future. That's how you drifted to sleep, listening to his voice was more comforting than you'd like to admit. When you awoke in the morning you were unsure what terrified you more, the feeling of one of you completely reducing the few centimetres of space left between you or never knowing what Charles’ touch felt like.

*****

Maybe that’s why you were so unimpressed when Charles and Pierre joined the several of you seated around the long table on the patio with two unknown girls. The number of cocktails you’d consumed weren’t providing you with a great amount of rationality but then again it was difficult to justify being annoyed when you had no reason to be in the soberest of situations. The only person to blame was yourself, you’d had the chance to experience a night with Charles and a combination of your stubbornness, maturity and (let’s face it) fear of what could happen had meant that you’d missed out.

It was only as she threw her head back at one of his comments that it hit you, you were jealous. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in years. Ever since your last relationship you had lacked almost every kind of emotion. You’d dated people since but that connection was never really there which is why you were full of confusion at the situation presenting itself to you. The feelings felt foreign to your body and you weren’t sure how to deal with them, so you did the one think that you were too young to do back then. Get drunk and try to forget about them for a night.

"Are you listening? Drink up, we're leaving in a second!" Arthurs voice provided a distraction from your thoughts whilst encouraging them. You tilted your head back as you finished the remainder of your champagne, your arm was already reaching out for the nearest bottle to see if you could sneak in a quick refill. You didn’t even like champagne but after having run out of cocktails about an hour ago you didn’t really have much choice. In any other situation you would’ve declined and waited until you were at the club but you weren’t really in the mood to sober up right now. You got up to follow everyone to the taxis, deciding that the bottle had too much in to be left at the table to waste, but not enough in that you couldn't finish it before you reached you destination. Putting the bottle to your lips this time, you took another gulp.

He noticed. He noticed the vast amount of alcohol you had consumed thus far. The unbothered façade you'd displayed during dinner was picked up by him the second he’d glanced in your direction. Your eyes often met his across rooms, at events, in the paddock, even at family dinners and it was always followed by a shared smile, but tonight you hadn't even looked at him and he couldn't stand it. Although he couldn’t be certain, he had a good idea what the cause was. Guilt was slowly consuming his thoughts. He shouldn’t have felt guilty, there was no real reason to, yet he did.

He knew if he had come alone you would've had a couple of drinks with dinner, just enough to prepare yourself for the club afterwards, allowing the sweaty people and sticky floor to become slightly bearable. He also knew that you weren't a huge drinker and that the lack of food you had consumed at dinner would only worsen the matter which was evident as he watched you fall into a taxi with Arthur and Carla as he climbed into a separate one with Pierre and, what they appeared to be to everyone else, their ‘dates’.

The club was busy, everyone excited to be back on the dance floor after its absence over the past year or two. Although it would've been nice to spend some more time with him, you were thankful that the crowds had engulfed you so you'd lose sight of Charles and her. You'd found your way to the middle of the dance floor and you remained there for hours losing track of time and somehow your friends too.

Unbeknown to you, Charles had lost his 'date' at the first chance he had. He'd met her on a boat during the day with Pierre and when his best friend had invited her best friend for dinner he felt bad for not doing the same. He was sitting at the bar with Pierre who'd picked up on the amount of attention he was paying you as you danced along with random strangers. The Frenchman questioned what he was doing when he noticed Charles tighten his jaw. Charles nodded his head in your direction and the pair watched as a man approached you.

The guy in front of you was only offering to buy you a drink but you knew you were way over your limit. You'd politely declined, naively assuming that he'd disappear back into the sea of faces but that wasn't the case. Your refusal  clearly not accepted as he insisted. grabbing onto your arm in an attempt to pull you in the direction of the bar. Yanking your arm out of his grip you instantly managed to sober up as you came to the realisation you were going to have to fight this battle alone.

Charles knew you were a big girl, that you could handle yourself in almost any situation thrown your way, but as the guy reached out to touch you he could've sworn he moved quicker than his Ferrari. His presence shocked you as you flinched slightly at the unfamiliar grip on your waist.

"It's just me ma belle." Charles whispered calmly into your ear, placing a feather light kiss onto your cheek. Relief instantly washed over your body. You wished you could focus on the conversation that Charles was now having with the strange man in front of you but you couldn't. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your skin heating beneath Charles' fingertips and the tingling sensation that lingered where he'd planted the kiss. He'd never touched you before, the brief hugs being the most contact you'd ever shared, and now he was standing in a club with his hand around your waist as he fended off a random guy who'd taken an interest in you. "I think we should head home." When Charles spoke it felt as though each word was coated in sex as it left his lips. He hadn't meant it in a sexy way, you knew that. He wanted to take you home so you were safe. However his intense grip on your waist and his stubble lightly grazing your cheek when he leaned in to speak to you was putting thoughts into your mind that you knew shouldn't be there.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking for the first time that night. Your eyes always showed a lot of emotion. Your body language was often hard to read but you always made eye contact when you spoke. He frequently used it to determine what mood you were in but this time he was met with one he'd never seen before. Despite them having a drunken glaze, your dilated pupils held a look of lust. He could've sworn you were mentally undressing him. You weren't. Instead you were thinking of how much you wanted him to undress you.

"I think that's a good idea." He could hear the smirk in your voice over the sound of the music as you let your lips gently brush his ear lobe while you spoke. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath in an attempt to pull himself together. You were disappointed when his hand left your side but satisfied when it quickly intertwined itself with yours. His skin was softer than you were expecting, the rough patches slowly disappearing over the summer break. Your hands remained that way as you walked through the streets of Mykonos. Neither of you spoke, you just remained in a comfortable silence. As the villa came into view Charles was basically marching down the street, his strides increasing as your little legs tried to keep up. He dropped your hand when he reached the door, searching his pockets for the key to unlock it.

The villa was colder than you were expecting, a shiver ran down your spine as the air con hit you. You headed towards the kitchen and grabbed your sweater off one of the bar stools, sliding it on over your outfit.

“So you’d let Carla drive your car huh?” his face instantly broke out in a smile as you relieved some of the tension between you both. “You know that’s not true.” Charles followed you to the kitchen and watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the counter. He poured a glass of water and took a sip before handing it to you which you gratefully accepted.

“You’d let your date drive it instead?” He rolled his eyes as he chuckled at your sarcasm, hoping that you’d forgotten about the girl he’d sat next to during dinner as quickly as he had. “How many girls get a turn before me?” Although he didn't let it show, your question had offended him slightly. Despite his popularity with women he was never one to disrespect them, especially not you. He took a step closer to you, standing directly in front of your legs that were pressed firmly together.

“You’re the only one I want to see in that seat mon Cherie,” That was one nickname that he’d never called you, yet it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly. He leaned against your legs and you slowly parted them so he could stand in between, closing the distance between you both. “I’d let you drive it again in a heartbeat.” Your eyes were fluttering between his eyes and lips, your stare only breaking when he leaned in to speak in your ear just like he’d done in the club. He placed a kiss on your cheekbone and slowly worked his way up to your ear.

“You looked very sexy behind the wheel of my car.” You locked your hands with his while he continued to speak, closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to try and calm your heart rate down. You wanted to say something back, engage more in the conversation, but for the first time in a long time you were at a loss for words. You loved driving, you'd often join the boys go karting growing up and learned to drive as soon as you could, so when Charles asked if you wanted to drive his Ferrari back to your home after your Harrods shopping trip you were more than excited. It was a nice change from the train ride you were expecting.

He'd watched your eyes light up when you realised he was being serious. It was the closest you'd ever been to driving something even remotely similar to an f1 car despite it being different in so many ways. Your smile was infectious as you put your foot down on the motorway, leaving London behind. You'd never even driven an automatic car so this was a completely new experience. He'd taught you how to use the paddles to manually change gears if you wanted to and how to shift through its different modes as you drove around. The only disappointing part of the journey was reaching your destination, your trip home considerably quicker than you would've wanted. After spending the whole time focused on going fast and not crashing, you'd selfishly not noticed how Charles was feeling throughout the drive.

He'd been trying to keep his eyes trained on the road in front of him but couldn't help steal a glance in your direction every now and then. He was always surrounded by fast cars, something he realised after seeing you sat in his driving seat he'd begun to take for granted. He felt overwhelmed with pride, he was the one who was making you this happy. He felt privileged seeing you this free as your hair flew around in the wind while you rested a hand out the side of the car, trying to resist the force of the air pushing it back. It was his turn to be selfish as he realised that he always wanted to keep that moment for himself. He didn't want anyone else to make you feel like this, give you this experience. He wanted to be the one to make you smile.

“Don’t go quiet now mon Cherie.” That nickname. Again. “I think we still need to discuss what happened in the shower.” You instantly snapped back into reality at the mention of the shower. His hand fell from yours and toyed with the bracelet on your wrist. The one that you nervously played with in situations like these. The one that he’d gifted you last year. The one with his name etched into it.

The morning that you'd woke up in Charles' bed you were alone. An empty bed was something you'd become accustomed to over the past couple of years but in this instance it made you awaken quicker. The note left on his pillow stopped you from worrying, he was out on a run.

You respected his commitment to his career and took the opportunity to go for a shower. The warm water felt refreshing against your skin, goose bumps slowly appearing across your skin at the sudden change in temperature. Rubbing Charles shower gel into your skin you closed eyes and lent your head against the tiled shower wall. It wasn't clear at what point you'd become so aroused, but  the steam from the shower and the smell of Charles covering you definitely had something to do with it. You allowed your hands to roam your body, his name unexpectedly falling from your mouth as you brushed past your breasts. The careless use of his name had caused your eyes to widen and your hand to clamp over your mouth. It had left you lips so naturally but felt inappropriate to say aloud.

It wasn't until a few days later that you realised he'd heard. He almost hadn’t. If he’d unlocked the apartment a mere three seconds later your words wouldn’t have reached his ears. His run had been sweaty and he was still out of breath but his panting soon stopped. His eyes widened as he heard his name leave your lips and he froze. He didn’t want to announce his presence, he knew he wasn’t supposed to hear it and didn’t want you to feel embarrassed that he had. He didn’t know what to do. He felt as though he was invading your privacy but knew that if he shut the door you’d hear it close and know he was there. So instead he stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe to keep it slightly open as he waited for the sound of the shower to finish running. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but he failed. All he could think about was you, in his shower, without him and how badly he wanted to join you, just so he could make his name fall from your mouth the way it just did over and over again.

You thought you'd gotten away with it. He'd entered the apartment just as you were stepping out the bathroom and he'd acted as cool as ever. The weekend was slowly becoming a distant memory that you were trying hard not to dwell on, hating that you were missing his presence so much already. It wasn't until you were at work the following week that it became apparent your secret crush was no longer a secret. You were in the office early, earlier than everyone else. That wasn’t unusual, you liked to be in early as it often meant you could leave earlier too. What was unusual was the box placed neatly on your desk.

Although the small parcel was addressed to you, you opened it with hesitation. A small gasp left your lips as your unwrapping revealed a red box, the golden engraving of the word ‘Cartier’ on top. Confused, you gently opened to box revealing a bracelet.

You placed it on your desk as you searched for a note. Despite it being awfully obvious who it was from, you wanted some kind of confirmation or, better yet, a reason as to why someone had put this into your possession. You'd spotted it in Harrods with Charles. You hadn't mentioned it, just spent a few minutes mindlessly staring at its beauty. There was no point even considering buying it for yourself, the price tag was close to your yearly salary. Eventually you found the note. 

'I've heard you like to moan it'

You picked up the bracelet once more, analysing it as you did so. It was so discreet, discreet enough that if the note wasn’t a big enough hint you might never have realised. His name. Etched into the inside of the band in the same font as the word ‘Cartier'. Any other name and he wouldn’t have been able to get away with it. No one had picked up on its personalisation in the past year. It had remained your little secret.

You gulped loudly, unsure of what to say next. The dull lighting hid your cheeks as they flushed red with embarrassment, just like they'd done when you'd read his note. Luckily it was situations like these you considered your stubbornness a strength. "All I could thing about was how much I wanted you to touch me Charles." With your lips dangerously close to Charles' ear you'd somehow managed to complete your sentence with confidence. The conviction in your voice had satisfied Charles although it was obvious that he hadn't expected it as he pulled his head back slightly to look you in the eyes. It was the first time you'd seen them so dark out of his crash helmet. They didn't have the same teasing smile paired with them as they did only a few moments ago. For a brief moment your heart dropped. What if he was just teasing you and you'd taken it too far? 

"Say something." Your voice was barely audible despite the eerie silence that had settled in the kitchen as Charles picked up on your nervousness. His expression softened but he remained silent, placing his forehead against yours and gently brushing your noses. You both very quickly realised there was no longer the need for words. The last thing either of you wanted to do right now was have a conversation about what was going on because quite honestly neither of you were sure. All you knew was that as soon as the space between your lips closed, there was no going back. You were craving each other's touch and it was as though the kiss you were yet to share would be the seal of approval you both needed to explore each other in a way you hadn't before.

You'd had enough of the teasing, enough of the wondering and what ifs, enough of wasting time without knowing how his lips felt against yours. You moved your head up slightly brushing your lips with his before releasing one of your hands from his grasp and placing it on the back of his head, pulling it down slightly. As soon as your lips pressed against his you became overwhelmed with emotions. You relaxed into it, it felt so right. His hands began to explore your body, one placed on your thigh and the other tracing lines up and down your back, sitting on the counter top had worked in your favour as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't long before his tongue found yours as you let your hands snake beneath his shirt feeling his back and arms tense beneath you as he lifted you up from the side and placed you on the dining table which was at a slighter lower level. 

His mouth left yours and you let out a small groan of frustration, he smiled at the sound as you realised he was only doing it to strip you of the sweater you'd not long ago put on, allowing him to rid you of it, not caring how cold it was anymore. In between the kisses he was placing down your neck you pulled his top over his head. Your eyes were trained to his shoulders as you admired him, only shutting when he re-joined your lips. 

The sound of a key turning the lock at the front door caught Charles' attention. There was a high chance he'd consumed less alcohol than you tonight which is why he giggled slightly when you chose to ignore the sound and bring him back in for another kiss. 

“WE’RE HOME” Arthur voice echoed round the villa. The sound of his brothers voice was enough for you to release him from your grip.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh, it’s 3am people will be sleeping.” Carla tried to whisper but the tiled walls carried the sound throughout the villa. You didn’t know if anyone else was home, you hadn’t checked and to be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. The only thing on your mind was Charles.

“Y/N and I are in the kitchen,” Charles called back. His eyes never left yours as he grabbed his shirt you'd thrown across the kitchen and redressed himself, not until Arthur stumbled through the door way knocking into chairs and making them squeal as the legs glided across the floor. You both watched as he regained balance and muttered a drunken apology before sitting himself on the floor.

"Good night Arthur?" you laughed slightly at the sight of him on the floor, he'd never been the most elegant drunk but at least he was entertaining.

"Great night." He confirmed as he laid himself down, a laugh leaving Carla's lips as she stared at the state of him. If someone had spoken to you a couple of hours ago you would've probably had a different opinion but as it turned out, you were starting to agree with him.

TAGLIST

@imthebadguyyy @abysshaven @phatyak​

[dameronology]

you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

--

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

[theroomofreq]

can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D

HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.

Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')

I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx

properly improper by @lizardcookie

“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”

- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION

Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.

- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily

Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames

The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.

James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.

- giddy just thinking about this gem

'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish

It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.

- cries in respect for lyrical writing

Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw

Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)

- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS

a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames

James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.

His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with

- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")

about time by @jilyss

'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'

- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor

whiskey business by @elanev91

Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.

- hysterical! must read!

Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw

James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.

- classic hijinks that I live for

it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91

Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry

- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart

spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i

tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.

needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.

- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.

Waffle Wars by @elanev91

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched

You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger

Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.

- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever

out the window by @displayheartcode

A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.

- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free

The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine

An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…

- petunia pov that gives me WINGS

Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites

At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.

- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM

if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove

Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)

- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?

Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction

It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.

- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it

How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei

“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)

The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.

- complete sucker for this one

All This Time by @thejilyship

James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.

- one of my favvvv tropes

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.

- cries in princess diares AU

The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites

Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.

- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.

Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl

This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest.  He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion.  She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.

- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv

Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE

The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger

“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.

You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.

Right?

- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood

When Y/N moved to Hampstead she was unaware of the implications the decision would have on the course of the rest of her life.

or

Harry is Y/N’s eccentric neighbour who sweeps her up in the whirlwind that is his life

this gif bc its maybe my favorite clip of him EVER holy fuck - this is the harry of my dreams this is the harry of i live in the neighbourhood

HEY YALL it’s been a minute and I missed yall so much and I’m just about to be on break so maybe i’ll be back to posting writing regularly but with school its so hard and I think I’ve been working on this for months so yeah <3 lol PLS PLS PLS leave me feedback and reblogs and that stuff bc otherwise my writing just feels...empty and you have no idea the smile i get when even just the tags say like “god this was everything” it can be anything honestly but it keeps my passion up. Thank you again and hope you enjoy.

Word Count: ~10k | Warnings: swearing probably? no smut (yet), rich and famous harry - mentions of Taylor Swif 

-

She considered herself an average young woman in her mid twenties. She liked screaming Taylor Swift and Megan Thee Stallion songs alone in her car and thrifting on weekends. She hated cable because of commercials and when doordash didn’t deliver all of her order. She had asthma when she worked out or the air quality was bad. She had dumb celebrity crushes that her friends and her still laughed over with every new instagram post. She had hopes and dreams she had yet to achieve and she had past trauma that many would never know about, especially at first glance.

Sure, she was successful. She would admit that. How else would she be able to afford even the modest little house she had found in Hampstead? She had studied international business in college and hopped on a plane to London the first chance she got. After a few years of a more than decent paycheck and an advantageous stimulus check from her kind parents, she was able to move out of her starter flat into the suburbs. The definitive push for the move was two-fold. Her parents wanted her to take her dog and her apartment complex was strict on no pets. Then her promotion at work - which included a pay raise - made it hard to wave off taking full ownership of her childhood ten-pound best friend.

So with life happening as it usually does, Y/N first found herself scouring Zillow, then touring homes in the area, and finally standing outside a three bedroom, two bath, two-story cream house in Hampstead. Her house.

The little moving truck she had rented sat beside her as she stared at her future. The realtor had told her they would be there in ten minutes. For the next ten minutes all Y/N had to do was keep herself from combusting, or worse, sobbing.

She felt overwhelmed already. Renting a flat in London was one way to describe herself as independent. Owning a home in Hampstead seemed like a whole new level of adulthood she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for.

After taking a few deep breaths to ground herself, Y/N walked up to the gate that kept her front yard narrowly separated from the sidewalk. She lifted one hand from beneath the box she clutched tightly to her chest to push past the iron-rod gateway. The garden was cute, a little bland, and she thought to herself that maybe she’d develop some gardening skills now that she had her own front yard. The thought made her smile a little, refraining from laughing aloud while on her lonesome, since she had never taken interest in gardening before. But this house. This house. It was a new beginning. It was a fucking unwritten journal. Blank film. Unknown territory. She could be anyone in this house.

She gently placed the cardboard box on the first step up to the front door. There was no porch, but she couldn’t complain. It was gorgeous and she was lucky to get it at the price she did. The house was cream with dark blue accents and a grey shingled roof. Lots of windows. It was classic and it was hers.

After the realtor came with her keys and made sure everything seemed alright, Y/N’s couple of friends, Amélie and Daniel, arrived with their cars filled with items she had needed picking up from various stores. They helped her move her stuff into the house. Thankfully it was already half furnished, meaning she didn’t have to go out and buy beds or couches or any of those big items that are both expensive and a hassle to deal with.

By the time the evening had rolled around, everything was in the house and it actually seemed semi put together. Y/N looked around, sweat apparent on her face and hands on her hips, proud of what she had accomplished. The nerves from earlier had been drowned by pride.

-

The next day, she woke up from her first night in the house. It felt like a dream even though she was sure she was awake.  

She had to navigate her way to the airport today to pick up her dog from his long flight and then mainly settle into the house. Her house sat on Sherwood Avenue, one of the many streets in Hampstead. It’s neighboring houses were much larger. The ones directly next to and across from her weren’t drastically bigger but what she had yet to learn was that next to the house across from her there were two houses that had been joined together by their slightly eccentric owner. A man who would be the match that ignited the flame that was the rest of her life.

This unknown fact quickly became known after Y/N’s first few weeks in her new neighbourhood. The eccentric - more so absurdly rich - neighbor who conjoined the houses was Harry Styles.

The first time they crossed paths she wasn’t even aware of it. It was the day she moved in. He had been out for his usual morning run and was rounding the corner when she had pulled up in her moving van. Once inside his home, he snoopily watched on as his neighbour began to move in. He hadn’t taken note of much about her, just that she was new and that she had a nice pair of jeans on that day.

The second time, Y/N was convinced she needed to get her eyes checked because there was no way that she had just seen Harry Styles key himself into the house across the way from her. There was no way that she had moved into the same area as him, let alone the same street. It seemed far more plausible that she needed a psych evaluation or a strong glasses prescription.

But the third instance of them crossing paths, she was proven wrong. She was on her way back from the neighbourhood park when she saw a guy jogging towards her. With a yellow beanie and a black Columbia sweatshirt paired with running shorts and shoes, he was hard to ignore running straight towards her. The iconic curls, strong jawline, and soft green eyes were dead giveaways this time. After making brief eye contact as their paths literally crossed, she felt herself make a little face of odd interest. Her head quirked and her eyes narrowed, lips pursed with slight confusion. That was definitely him.

After that, she found herself seeing Harry around the neighbourhood a relatively good amount. She’d see him at the park, at the coffee shop, on their street, and more. They didn’t speak. She really didn’t think he would want to be bothered by his neighbours and she certainly wasn’t willing to test the theory. They sometimes gave a small smile of acknowledgement but nothing really friendly. Just ‘you exist and I know that’.

-

Fridays are Y/N’s favorite day. It’s the beginning of the weekend, she never has to go into work and it’s simply a nice day. People are happier, they smile brighter and it just seems like the world is a little better than usual.

Friday was especially amazing today because her childhood best friend, Cate, was arriving at London Heathrow in the evening. Y/N had begged Cate to fly out to see the new house in person and Cate had finally found the time to run away to England for a week.

She shut her front door carefully behind her and placed her headphones in her ears. Rori, that little terrier, who had made a similar flight to see Y/N’s place not too long ago, scampered out the door with her and jumped happily at her legs as she fiddled with her phone. Her coat ruffles around her disturbed from the morning air. It’s blanket-like fabric that consisted of a deep blue backdrop with felt giraffes sewn on it, kept her warm while she walked. With her mind racing with weekend plans and ideas for her and Cate to do both in Hampstead and the city, she crossed the street like usual and began to walk with her dog to the coffee shop for her morning tea.

Unlike usual, she fumbled just as she was putting her phone in her pocket and bumped into something large and definitely not sedentary.

“I’m so sorry!” She blushed and moved backwards from the man who had just been shutting his own front gate to head somewhere.

“S’alright. No harm, no foul.” He looks down at her and her dog. Rori seems excited by the stranger and sniffs him eagerly. A single paw prodding at the man’s long leg.

She grimaces, hearing the voice and stepping back allows her to fully recognize who she had just bumped into. Her neighbour. The runner. Harry Styles.

“Sorry.” She mutters again as Rori continues to prod at Harry’s leg.

She tries to coax Rori away, but Harry simply smiles and leans down to the small dog.

“Hi there buddy,” he coos and rubs the top of the fluffy dogs head, in between his pointy ears, “What’s your name?”

“Rori.” She states easily, Harry’s eyes flickering to her smoothly. Rori makes a smile babbling noise that sounds a bit like a tiny roar - hence the name - and Harry chuckles to himself.

“He’s really adorable,” he finally says and straightens up from his admiring of the dog.

The grimace becomes more of a smile on her face and she mumbles a “Thank You”.

As her neighbour - who hasn’t introduced himself (which wasn’t necessary, but still) or bothered to ask for her introduction - seems to be about to say something new when his phone begins to vibrate obnoxiously. He twitches, his large hands immediately going to his pockets for the important device. He checks the message and looks back at her face.

“Sorry, I have to run...um,” he’s not sure what to say. He really does have to go, but he doesn’t even know his neighbour’s name. He’ll have to make sure to get it at some point in the near future. Especially now that he’s acquainted with her dog.

“No worries,” she smiles completely this time, relieved for the whole interaction to be over. She felt like she was going to explode with each passing moment. In the presence of a legendary musician, c’mon, who wouldn’t be freaking out. All she could think about was how Harry Styles now knew her dog’s name. What the fuck!

-

Upon arriving at the airport, she waited patiently for Cate to walk out of the customs area.

When she did, the two young women began jumping up and down excitedly, Y/N squealing only slightly. They hugged and began chattering intensely, catching up on lost time that generally occurs when you live an ocean apart.  

Finally, one comment rings through the constant back and forth and Cate stops.

“Wait, what did you just say,” she questions as they begin walking to catch an uber back to Hampstead.

“I think my house might be haunted?” Y/N’s voice raising because she’s unsure if that’s what Cate was talking about.

“No, no, the thing after that. I think I must’ve misheard you.”

“Harry Styles is my neighbour?” Y/N’s brows raise as she looks over at her best friend, curious to know what she will say.

“Yes! Explain. Now!”

“It’s not really a big deal. It’s a nice neighbourhood, it makes sense that celebrities of his caliber want to live there.”

“That is not explaining. You have to introduce us!”

As they climb into their uber and settle in for the short ride back to Hampstead, Y/N sighs and tells Cate everything she knows.

“We’ve only just spoken today and I’ve been here for a couple weeks. He lives across the street and down one, I guess. I just see him around, it’s not like he knows who I am. He didn’t even get my name today, just Rori’s.” She laughs lightly, still finding it funny that Harry knows her dog’s name.

Cate nods, leaning in slightly to her best friend, hardly able to contain her awestruckness from the story and baffledness at Y/N’s calmness. “So, like, when do I get to meet him?”

“Girl, I don’t fucking know. Never, if you’re going to act wild. I don’t want the neighbourhood to think I’m not chill.”

“Sometimes…” Cate starts and leans away from Y/N jokingly, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both smile, bumping elbows silently. The song on the radio fading in louder as their words die out.

-

The next day, Y/N took Cate to the local park. It was expansive and connected to the football fields that local teams would play at. The park section was a luscious green that was maintained with copious amounts of watering by the township.

She and Cate settled on a patch of grass near a slender tree that would offer some shade if the sun’s rays became too harsh. The quilt they sat on was something her grandmother had made her when she was maybe 8 years old, meaning it was torn in places and completely worn in a different shade of pink than it had been initially.

They set up their picnic and played music, enjoying the sunny day. Something rare and fleeting as the fall began to creep up on Hampstead.

They eat and catch up on life for about an hour. Basking in the sunlight, Y/N had laid on her back and was staring up at the clouds passing along the sky. Cate was carefully watching their surroundings, simply taking in her friend’s new home, but possibly for another reason too.

“Hey, isn’t that…” Cate trails off, trying to subtly nod in the direction of an approaching figure.

Y/N sits up, her hands holding her up from behind her. Her hair fails in front of her shoulders slightly and it’s a little disheveled from being mused in the grass. She looks discreetly in the direction of Cate’s nodding and then looks at her friend and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, but don’t say anything, he might not even notice me and I’m certainly not calling out to him.”

‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift is playing off her speaker and as she’s about to change it, Cate turns it up slightly. They share a glare with one another before trying to act casual again, even though both of their eyes kept flickering to the man who seemed to be continuing closer and closer to their set up.

It became clear that Harry was approaching them after all and Y/N tried to carry on an unbothered conversation with Cate, which was hard with the constant nudging of Cate’s foot on her shin.

He stops a mere foot away from their blanket, beaming at the two young women lounging on the ground. He makes an attempt at a casual wave, his large hand splaying his fingers quickly, before opening his mouth to speak.

Cate beats him to the punch. “Hello there!”

“Erm, hi!” He says nicely to her and then looks at Y/N.

“No Rori today?” He inquires.

“No,” she smiles, slightly blushing at the fact that he remembered her and her dog. “He’s napping.”

“Ah, I see,” He pauses, “I feel like I need to apologize.” He continues.

“For what?” She questions and Cate watches on anxiously, mesmerized by Harry and dying to see what happens next.

“I ran off before I could even ask for your name or introduce myself. It was terribly rude.”

“Oh,” she can’t stop smiling, “It’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sure you’re busy. Besides I had to get my day started, otherwise I would’ve been late picking her up.” She points to Cate who smiles sheepishly, still internally screaming over the fact that her friend is able to talk so easily to a celebrity.

Harry nods and looks at Cate again, “Just visiting I take it then?”

She nods quickly, words escaping her. Y/N chuckles under her breath and swoops in to save her friend any embarrassment. “Cate’s my best friend and she’s been kind enough to take time out of her extremely busy life to come look at my new house.”

He hums, still standing a respectful distance from their set-up. “Nice to meet you, Cate,” he says very kindly. Then he laughs, but in a way that is like he’s beside himself. The two women both quirk their heads at him. Y/N squints her eyes slightly, trying to understand the guy she is talking to and connecting him with the man that is all over the news all of the time for his musical genius.

“Now I know your dog and best friend’s names but still not yours. At this point, I’m begging you to tell me.”

They all laugh and Y/N feels nervous for the first time since Harry had walked up.

“You first,” she smiles slyly.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then go back to normal. Harry was very smart, she likely knew his name, but one, she was trying to be funny and two, she was also trying to be courteous. He preferred to introduce himself rather than just be told who he is, even if people already knew. It allowed him to maintain some normalcy.

“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.

“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.

Harry’s lips quirk up in a faint smile, amused at her expression.

“I thought it was a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ type of situation or was I mistaken?” He finally asks when she remains silent still.

The two young women laugh and Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, both feeling flustered and completely in control at the same time.

“You weren’t mistaken, I was just thinking.” Then she pauses again and Cate thinks Harry is about to combust and Harry thinks he’s going to as well with all the anticipation that has been built up over his neighbor’s name, even though he was pretty sure he’d heard it in passing at one point or another but had forgotten quickly afterwards.

“It’s Y/N.”

Harry releases a facetious sigh of relief, “Oh thank god! Finally!” His words quickly turn into an infectious laugh that is paired with a shining smile and she feels like she’s swooning right then and there. The control has gone out the window and she’s taken with her neighbor. He’s wonderful in that moment and she forgets about Cate or the park or anything. It’s just Harry and how it seems like he’s smiling just for her.

“Now that I’ve gotten your name,” he smiles pointedly at her after his laughter has faded away. The smile doesn’t leave his face though, his eyes still crinkled, his dimples still showing.

She nods, encouraging him to continue. Cate feels like she’s watching a movie unfold in front of her and she wishes she could record the entire interaction.

“I can finally ask you, Y/N, where did you get that fabulous coat I saw you wearing yesterday?”

She twitches further upright, eyes bringing themselves directly inline with Harry’s gaze. “Oh,” she inhales, “The giraffe one, yeah?”

He nods.

“I got it from a Goodwill years ago. It’s some vintage company that used to only make sleepwear. I looked up the tag one time and it doesn’t exist anymore. Super cool, though. Wish I could buy more.”

“Yeah,” Harry says eagerly, even taking a step towards the women, “It was so intriguing. Maybe, if you didn’t mind of course -” he falters, losing his courage for a moment, “you could bring it over and my stylist could check it out. I would love something similar and I’m sure he could figure it out.”

She shrugs. It wasn’t crazy, especially not for Harry - she assumed. She was certain he often found things he liked but there was only one of them so he would just order his own. She couldn’t help the pride that was swelling inside her though it that moment. Harry Styles liking her jacket so much he asked where it was from and then wanting his stylist to look at it. She’d jump for joy when she was in the safety of her private home later tonight with Cate.

“One condition,” she says and Harry’s brows quirk amusedly at her.

“You are a very tit for tat person,” he muses.

“Fair’s fair,” she shrugs again and then looks around her quickly, “It’s simple so don’t get too worked up over it, buddy.”

He laughs slightly again and tries to figure out what she’s looking for. When she extends a scratched up, sticker-covered point and shoot film camera he smiles.

“Can you take a picture of Cate and I? It’s always just the two of us so we never have anyone to take pictures of us together.”

Harry grins at this and her sincere face. Cate is a little taken aback, because while it’s technically true, it’s not entirely factual. They have plenty of film pictures of them - maybe not recently though. And she wasn’t going to question Y/N right now. It seemed like she knew what she was doing.

Harry takes the camera and begins to look through the viewfinder. The women scoot closer together and Cate wraps her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She leans in to press her cheek against her best friend. They smile up at the camera and Harry crouches slightly to get a better angle.

“Alright,” he mumbles, “Ready?...Cheese!”

Their smiles stay hung on their face as they listen for the click and when the faint sound befalls their ears, Cate laughs and Y/N pulls away. She reaches forward for the camera, her hand easily brushing Harry’s large one.

Their smiles meet each other and Cate can’t help but notice how they grow as the two of them look at one another.

“Thank you,” Y/N says sweetly and pulls back to retake her seat on the blanket.

Harry straightens up, his grin falling back into that signature smirk. “No problem.”

“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He clears his throat, feeling thrown off. “Yeah, sure. I guess next time I see you we can talk about when a good time would be for your jacket to come over?”

His voice raises at the end of his question a little more than usual, he’s trying to get her to bite, but she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily thrown off. He is trying to read her and she’s been completely cool the entire time. It’s intriguing. Even more so than the jacket, even though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, it wasn’t really his focus when he walked across the park to her and Cate.

“Yep! It was nice finally meeting you Harry.”

He feels the cue to walk off and says his farewells. As he walks off, back on course to his intended destination, his head is filled with questions. Most important of them being when he would see her again.

Cate and Y/N watch him walk towards the football fields. They see him meet with a group of men and it seems like they’re there to practice or play a game. Y/N couldn’t be sure.

“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Stop trying to make me take the piss. That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“It’s not! He likes you and you obviously like him, I mean, but we been knew.”

“Having a crush on the famous Harry Styles when you’re 17 is different than me liking my neighbour Harry.”

“But you like him don’t you? He’s even better than he was when he was 19. Now he’s all grown up and established and more your style anyway.”

“Shut up! He could hear you.”

“He really couldn't, he's yards away, you’re just paranoid.” Cate continues to tease and ridicule her best friend over Harry and Y/N is just about ready to up and leave, but she also can’t help but laugh it off.

“I’m literally gonna kick you out if you keep talking,” Y/N says between laughs and the women feel like they’re back in high school losing their minds over the stupidest joke ever.

“Okay, fine. But all I have to say is I will hold this over you when you end up together.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever. Just be prepared to wait forever because I can promise you Harry Styles and I are never ending up together.”

--

Two Weeks Later

Y/N walked to her door after hearing the doorbell ring and opened it to find her neighbour standing with his arm raised ready to knock.

“Hey, Harry,” She greeted easily, but not entirely sure why he was here.

They hadn’t really seen each other since their official meeting in the park. It hadn’t bothered her and it hadn’t really bothered Harry either. It seemed like they both had extremely busy lives that they didn’t plan on throwing out the window because they had said they would meet up at some point. She liked that.

Harry had come over because he finally had a break in his schedule and was hoping to talk about the jacket and anything else really. He was interested in getting to know her and he didn’t care to hide it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, leaning himself against her door frame now.

Her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen a little bit, not completely sure she heard him correctly.

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and black bike shorts that peaked out from underneath the sweatshirt hem. One of her socks was shoved around her ankle while the other was pulled up flat to touch the base of her calf. She didn’t think she was looking the most presentable at the moment. She had been basking in her day off by simply laying on the couch watching hours of Netflix.

He nods, his smile growing on his face. Her flustered expression only made him happier. She was always so nonchalant with him, he wanted to see her a little more antsy.

“Unless you’re busy,” he adds seriously, not wanting to bother her, just wanting to spend time with her.

“No, no. I’m not...I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting any plans where I would be required to go out in public. Let me just...um, come inside and then give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles again as he steps into her home.

Her smile is sheepish and much less genuine then the one Harry holds on his face as he takes in her abode. She tells him to make himself comfortable and then runs to her room to try and possibly fix her state in under five minutes.

She tears around her room, heaving off the frumpy sweatshirt and grabbing a long sleeve striped v-neck top she had hanging out half out of her hamper, a sign known to her that while it was clean enough to wear, if she happened to do laundry she should wash it. Slipping it over her head, she walks to her dresser and leans over to open the bottom drawer and unfolds a pair of dark wash oversized jeans. There’s no holes in them and she throws them on the bed so that she can slip out of her current pants. Next, onto the socks, she swaps out the current ones for a fresh black pair and finds her tortoise print boots to flick on. As she just about runs into her en suite bathroom, she zips the two boots up between steps. A quick comb through her hair, deodorant, two spritz of perfume, her eyelash curler and mascara and she’s running back to where Harry is waiting in her living room.

He blinks surprisedly at her promptness, usually giving people more time then what they say they need. She had indeed gotten ready in five minutes. He thought she looked breathtaking. And she felt like she was at a lack for breath in any case.

“It’s a bit cold out,” he glances to the window.

“Isn’t it always?” She smiles, finally catching her breath.

He chuckles and then nods, a smile appearing on his face as he feels a warmth in his chest at her wit.

“Ready?” He checks in.

She nods, grabbing a coat she kept hung by the door.

“Just the coffee shop down the way?” She inquires as they exit the house and she locks the door behind her.

Harry hums, waiting down a step for her to turn around and walk beside him. It was so strange to her, this felt all too normal with him. Like he was just a friend who had come to pick her up for coffee, her neighbor, nothing more.

“Did you hear the new season of the Crown is coming out soon?” Harry asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder (technically since her shoulder wasn’t in line with his).

“Really?” She looks at him, “I love that show!”

“Me too,” He looks at her and smiles happily.

“That’s amazing,” she breathes mostly to herself, half about the show and half about how Harry watches television and that he watches one of her favorite shows.

There’s silence. The brisk air pricking their cheeks as they walk down their street. Their puffs of breath create a slight mist of white ahead of them and then quickly dissipates.

Her eyes flit up to Harry’s chiseled jaw and face and she watches him as his eyes carefully and meaningfully take in his surroundings. Was it her turn to take a stab at conversation? It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but she just wasn’t sure what was going on.

“You play football right?” She says finally as they turn onto the next street that would bring them closer to the café they both frequented.

She remembered seeing him there on several occasions. The tips he left were always overly generous, which she assumed you could do when you were exorbitantly rich. He always smiled when he ordered and knew the baristas by name. His order rarely differed and she hated to admit but she knew his two regulars. His actual “regular” was a 12 ounce black coffee, dark roast, no cream and no sugar. The other, his “I’ll actually have”, was a 16 ounce iced green tea, no cream and no sugar.

She couldn’t help that she was observant and that when ‘H’ was called at the bar she looked at what was pushed out, patiently waiting for him to come snatch it up with a smile and nod to the workers before he left. Sometimes he’d even smile at her over the lid of his drink as he exited the establishment. It was warm and inviting and she felt good about the twinkle in his eye that never seemed to waver no matter the day.

Now they were going there together and she’d have to pretend like she’d never noticed what he got as a drink.

He responds to her question with another glance at her and a simple “yes”. His hands shove into his pockets and one side of his pink lips quirk up. He continues, “I’m on a local team with some mates. We’re in a little competition with our league. The final match is coming up this Sunday actually...You should come.”

He says it so casually it almost doesn’t catch her off guard. Harry inviting her to his football game, maybe this was going to be her life now. Going to her neighbours football match. Going to Harry Styles’ football match.

“Sunday…” She sounds out, choosing to look out into the distance instead of at him. “What time?”

“Eight.”

“P.M. right?” She responds quickly, worried since she never wakes up that early and rarely before 10 a.m. on the weekends for that matter.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

They’ve come upon the café and he’s quick to grab the handle to open the door and let her go before him. She can’t stop the blush and smile that spread on her face as she ducks her head into the warm and cozy shop. Men had opened doors for her before and she really thought of herself as a strong woman who didn’t need a man for anything, but something about Harry’s action felt especially, and specifically, chivalrous. Why, she had no idea.

Neither of them stop to look at the menu. They were regulars and they both knew that about each other as well. He gestures for her to go first and she mutters her thanks before turning to the patiently waiting barista. She orders and is about to hand over her card when Harry suavely steps in and says, “Don’t worry about it. I invited you with me, I’ll pay.”

It was both completely unexpected and expected at the same time. Knowing she’d never win this fight, she thanked him again, glanced at the man taking her order and then stepped aside. Harry orders his own drink and then pays for both. Today he leaves double the amount he usually leaves for tip, she assumes since it’s two drinks he was paying for.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” She says quietly to him once they’re in a corner of the café waiting for their drinks.

He stands slightly slumped against the wall, closer to her height right now. He only shrugs, his good natured smile not once leaving his face since he entered this place.

“I wanted to,” he said simply right as the drinks were ready since it wasn’t particularly busy on this random Friday afternoon.

They glance outside and see that it’s begun to drizzle while they’ve been inside. She sighs, having hoped to walk around a little after being inside all day.

Instead, they sit at the corner table in the café, across from each other. She moves on from the paying thing, knowing it was simply how this guy probably operated most of his life.

He got a black coffee today, the cold and rain likely contributing to that choice.

As one pop song fades out, slightly under the sound of the coffee machines, she’s about to tell Harry she’s pretty sure she can make his final football match when ‘Cardigan’ fades in. It’s the second time a Taylor Swift song has been playing while she’s been in the presence of Harry and they were conversing. She tries to ignore one of her favorite songs at the moment. Harry doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it. His foot is tapping against his other, but it’s been tapping like that since they sat down.

“I think I could probably make it to your game,” she says finally after a pause and a sip of her own drink.

Harry grins at the response and launches into how great it will be if they win and how happy everyone will be. She smiles along and doesn’t notice the slight head swaying to the song that she’s begun.

“Fan of Taylor?” Harry inquires and Y/N’s face drops, eyes widening cartoonishly.

She stutters, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth before she can actually say something. How does she respond about liking Taylor Swift to a man who counts her as an ex. She’s at a loss.

“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.

Harry watches her curiously, obviously noticing her discomfort as his question.

“I used to not really consider myself a fan. I don’t really follow her just because I don’t really follow...um...musicians,” she chokes out the last word realizing Harry fits that category. “But, after folklore, I don’t know, this album really spoke to me. I also really like Lover and...uh” she pauses again, sticking on 1989, an album she has argued with her friends about how it’s basically a tell all of the man before her and Taylor’s relationship.

He nods, hoping she’ll continue. He wanted to get to know her and he kind of liked seeing her squirm. “1989?” He finally supplies.

Her blush isn’t able to be covered this time. If her hair didn’t fall in front of her ears she was sure they’d be flushed with blood.

Then she draws out of her own self stress and looks at the smooth man before her and grows calm. He was amazing at winding her up and she didn’t want to seem like some young, impressionable fangirl to him. So, she squared her shoulders and straightened up in her chair.

“Yes, it was pop perfection as one of my college friends liked to say. I’d always listen to it at the gym.” Then she pauses, taking a measured breath, gaining her confidence back. Her eyes meet his, “Is there any songs off it that you particularly enjoy, Mr. Styles.”

He chuckles, mostly because of her emphasis on ‘Style’.

“Shake it off?” He asks.

“Oh fuck off!” She laughs and he joins in with her.

When they catch their breaths from laughing, they simultaneously take sips of their drinks and settle their eyes back on one another. Exes and songs written about oneself weren’t exactly the topics Harry had in mind for the coffee outing he had asked Y/N out on, but talks of exes had never been this funny with anyone else. He was grateful for her playfulness, her demeanor.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks quietly and seriously.

“I think we’re past that question, love,” he responds.

“Yeah, I guess,” she pauses and just about whispers, “Pretty much all of them are about you right?”

He shrugs again, his felt coat rustling around his seat. “We never really talked about every single song.”

She leans forward at the ‘we’ Harry is using about himself and Taylor Swift.

“But when I listen to the songs, I hear us in just about every one but a few.”

“Wow,” she breathes and sips her drink. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lived through something that intense and then someone commemorated in a masterpiece.”

“Do you have a favorite on that album?” He asks, moving on from her revelation.

“I love ‘I know places’, it has a cool sound. But I also really love ‘Wonderland’. They both have kind of dark sounds, yet it still is like what you have is so special that the bad bits are worth it. I don’t know, it just seems like a tv show. I don’t think my life could ever be that crazy or dramatic.” She doesn’t notice her use of ‘you’ because she had meant it as a form of analyzing the song theoretically as she had done hundreds of times with her friends,  but this time the ‘you’ is literally the ‘you’ the song is talking about.

“Love can turn anyone’s life chaotic.” Harry muses.

The green eye’s that flashed at Taylor throughout that album look at Y/N from across the table and she feels a flip in her stomach at his tone.

Maybe he notices her mild discomfort, maybe that’s just who he is. But after a beat, Harry’s onto the next topic on his mind. He launches into how he’s just returned from Scotland for a shoot for something so undercover he can’t even divulge to her, much to his dismay. She’s taken aback since she didn’t consider her someone Harry would divulge any of his private matters to, but it seemed like he already considered her a confidant. Just not for that. He wants it to be a surprise.

She smiles and listens attentively. She wonders as he goes on about his interesting yet absurdly lavish life whether he even knows what regular life is like anymore. Or if he’d even enjoy it if he experienced it.

Sure, coffee and football were plenty part of regular life . But the football league was something novel to Harry. He had just gotten to do it and he was thrilled by its normalcy.

She regarded him carefully, unsure what the next step was in this budding friendship. Was it dangerous to get involved with someone’s life which seemed to be filled with whirlwind rigor and constant change.

She liked her chaos, don’t get her wrong. She felt like she often was the odd one out in life. Always thinking differently than the ones around her. She often was the one to suggest spontaneous late night trips around town or exploration of an abandoned building known for spooky stories. She liked inviting friends over for themed parties for no specific occasions and she liked taking film pictures of friends like they were models even though it was only for her and her memories. She thought of herself as silly and fun, but what Harry described as his chaotic fun actually was regimented tight schedules of constant travel and work. Interesting experiences came out of that constant travel and work, but didn’t seem like something she necessarily wanted to get herself wrapped up in.

After coffee, they leave the café and it’s pouring now. Instead of going home, Harry insists on walking her to her place. She relents, realizing, once again, that Harry wasn’t someone who took ‘no’ for an answer. She then invites him in because it’s the polite thing to do. And Harry being Harry accepts.

“Want a dry sweatshirt while you wait?” She asks as she slips off her wet shoes and jacket in the entryway. Harry follows suit, his knit sweater being pelted with rain for the last eight minutes left him feeling cold and shivery.

He nods as he toes off his shoes and ventures back to the living room she had him wait in a few hours ago.

“Here,” She says as she tosses a grey sweatshirt in his direction. She believes it's her one from earlier, an innocuous pullover with ‘London’ in collegiate lettering on the front. He catches it as she rounds the corner to turn up the heater.

Her mistake was being so careless to not look at the sweatshirt before handing it over to her neighbor. Anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t have questioned it. But Harry, how could he not.

“What’s this?”

“A sweatshirt,” she doesn’t spare him a glance on the coach as she fiddles with the thermostat.

“It’s one of my sweatshirts,” Harry says and she can hear the smile on his face.

“That’s impossible, I’ve never borrowed-” Her brows had raised at what he said but now her words fall short.

He didn’t mean one of his personal sweatshirts that she possibly borrowed if they were better friends. No. He meant his merchandise.

“It was a gift,” she sighs as she turns to face him. He’s now wearing the sweatshirt proudly and grinning up at her smugly.

She rolls her eyes when he gives her a knowing smile.

“I didn’t know that it was the one I was handing you. Honest!”

“I thought you didn’t “keep up” with musicians,” Harry says playfully, his fingers making quotes appropriately.

“I don’t.” Her tone is serious as she plops on the couch beside Harry.

“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.

“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”

She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.  

“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.

He continues smiling like he knows the truth.

“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.

“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.

“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”

His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”

Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.

“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”

Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”

“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.

There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.

But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.

“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.

“No.”

“Oh?”

“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.

Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.

A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.

“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.

She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.

Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?

-

“Are you on your way?”

She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.

“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”

It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.

Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.

He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.

He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.

He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.

When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.

“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.

She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.

“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.

Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.

Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.

She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.

She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.

Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.

He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.

Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.

The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.

Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.

She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.

She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.  

Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.

At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.

“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.

“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.

He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”

“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.

He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,

“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.

“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.

“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.

“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.

Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.

Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.

After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.

“Was that overwhelming for you?”

She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.

“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”

Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.

They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.

“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”

“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”

“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.

“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.

“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.

“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.

His head falls and he sighs.

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.

She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.

“Not even a chance.”

“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.

She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.

Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”

Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.

He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?

She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.

How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

The lighthouse that guided me H.H ❤️🔥

~Best friends brother  

I do not grant permission for anything of mine to be copied or redistributed even if recognition is given. All rights reserved to Hogwartsmarvelmommy © 2021.

🌼🌸Masterlist🌼🌸

this is 18+ only!

word count: 9.9k

(HarryHollandXReader)

summery: Sam knew you and his brother would hit it off, so he made you promise to not fall in love with his twin... easier said than done. 

Warnings: Swearing, miscarriage, blood, smut. (additional warnings under the cut)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (F & M receiving) fingering, some dirty talk (But like not really) protected sex. 

A/N: ok... i really only planned for this to be like 2-3k words, but i just couldn't stop... hope you like it :)

~ 

It was the insistent pounding that woke you up. The first thought in your head was how you were going to kill him for interrupting a perfectly good dream.  With a loud, rather dramatic groan you rolled out of bed and flung open your door. Sam looked like he was stressed beyond belief. Pushing past you, he came into the room plopping down onto your bed and groaning before burying his face in his hands. This was not a sight you were used to, usually your best friend was a happy go lucky guy, but right now he seemed to be anything but.  

"Sam, what's wrong?" Suddenly all the anger from being awoken so early left you, seeing him in distress was bad enough. You closed your door and went over to him, crouching down in front of him, hoping the boy would talk to you so you could offer some sort of help.

"There coming," he groaned. Who was he talking about? Who was coming? You were about to ask when he spoke up again, "my brothers want to see where I live and go to school, there on a plane now," 

You felt all that worry dissipate instantly. Did he seriously wake you up at the ass crack of dawn because his brothers wanted to come spend some quality time with him on his free week. Why did he always have to be so dramatic? 

With a roll of your eyes you let out a chuckle. "Seriously Sammy? That's what's wrong?" 

"Y/n, they're going to judge all of this," you looked around your room, there was nothing out of the ordinary really, just a bed, a dresser and some random nick knacks. 

"My room?" You asked, confused. 

"No, our apartment,"  he said. You were a bit taken aback. Yes your apartment was rather small and lacked a lot of decor, but for two broke college kids it was what you could do.

“What is wrong with the apartment?” you asked him, verging on offended. You had put in a lot of effort to make the place your own. From the beer bottle wreath on the pantry door to the pong wall of champions. It wasn't much but it was home, and that's what mattered. 

“I need to tell you something,” he sighed slightly looking up to you. “I come from a very well off family, and i am nowhere near broke, i just don't want to flaunt the money i have around,” you weren't sure you'd heard him right, the boy you'd lived with for three years, who you considered your closest and best friend was telling you he was in fact not broke? When there had been times you ate microwave noodles for lack of anything else in the house.

“So you have money?” you asked, your confusion was evident in your tone. 

“I'm sorry,” he sighed. 

“Why would you lie about that?” You wondered. You were taken aback at your best friend's confession. Confused and a little hurt were just the brink of it. Why did he think he had to lie to you? After all this time?

“It was easier. I didn't want to worry about anyone just befriending me because of money,” He explained. You rolled your eyes, not sure if that was an acceptable explanation, but for now it was what you were getting. 

“Well where are your brothers staying?” You asked him. 

He sighed in relief at the fact that you weren't completely ripping him a new one. “Can they take your room, and you can crash in mine?” He suggested.

“Absolutely not!” You exclaimed.

“Y/N!” he groaned out. 

“You give them your room and you take the futon in the living room,” You told him, smacking his cheek lightly. 

“You're the worst,” He groaned. “But I need a favor,” he muttered.

“I swear if you ask me-” 

“Can you take me to pick them up at the airport?” He interrupted. 

“And he asked it,” You sighed walking out of the room. 

“Y/N? Is that a yes?” He called out after you. 

“Fine Sam, but you owe me big!” You exclaimed before shutting the bathroom door. 

You had met Sam your first day at the University, and instantly the two of you had clicked. You oftentimes would say the two of you were half-soulmates, like half of your soul was Sam’s but the other half you hadn't meant quite yet. You understood Sam, and he understood you, and it was easy. You knew he had brothers, but mostly when he'd get time off school he would fly from Scotland back to London to visit them instead of vice versa.

So despite spending most of the last four years together, you had never met them. 

You got yourself showered and put together before going to find Sam, who was a mess. “You look like a train hit you,” You told him as you stood in his doorway. 

“Y/N, that's not helpful,” He groaned. 

“Well let's go get your brothers,” you announced, grabbing your car keys from the counter. 

“Wait,” He exclaimed. You turned to look at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. “I need you to promise me something,” He muttered. 

“What?” 

“My brother, Harry, my twin. I need you to promise you won't fall in love with him,” He told you. You nearly doubled over laughing, you couldn't imagine falling in love with anyone, much less someone related to the Div you called your best friend. 

“Yeah I'm sure that won't be a problem,” You chuckled. 

“Y/N, i’m serious, the instant you guys meet you're going to click, and if you think me and you have a lot in common, i can promise you, that Harry and you will have more,” He explained. You realized he was completely serious. 

“OK Sammy, i'll do my best to not fall in love with your twin brother,” You nodded at him. He took a deep breath before finally walking towards you. 

“Let's do this,” He muttered. 

~

The airport was crowded, much like you had expected, but you still found yourself trudging through the packed areas to the waiting area to wait for Sam's brothers. “When is their plane set to land?” you wondered looking up at the screen that had all the flight information. 

“They just landed. Tom texted me to let me know,” He told you as he stood waiting impatiently. 

“Why are you so nervous? There only your brothers Sammy,” you tried to get him to calm down. 

“Look at that mane!” You heard from a group of people that had just entered the waiting area from the landing pad. You saw the color drain from your best friends face as he turned and saw a curly haired boy coming at him. Sam opened his arms as the boy crashed into him, hugging him tight and muttering things back and forth to each other. 

“Did you have to leave me?” A man asked as he walked up to the three of you, glancing at you and flashing you a smile before throwing his own arms around the already hugging pair. 

The three of them hugging was cute, and it made you wonder why Sam was so nervous in the first place to have them here, since he looked so happy now. 

“Ok, Guys this y/n, my best friend and roommate,” Sam told them, turning the two boys' attention over to you. 

"Hi," you mumbled, feeling rather shy suddenly. 

"You weren't joking when you sai-" Sam smacked Harry in the back of the head before he could finish what he was saying. "I meant hi," he told you, extending his hand out to you. 

You took his hand in yours, noting how attractive his hands were. His grip was tight as he shook your hand, staring into your eyes with the most breathtaking brown orbs you had ever seen. You weren't even aware you could think brown eyes were so beautiful. His curls had fallen to his forehead, giving him a boyish look, but dear God did he pull it off. No wonder Sam had asked you to not fall in love with his brother, just looking at him had your stomach in butterflies. You let go of his hand, looking away hoping your best friend wouldn't pick up on how easily you were taken aback by his brother.

The older boy 'Tom' extended his hand as well shaking yours and saying hello, before the four of you headed down to the baggage claim. 

Both boys found their bags quickly and then it was off to your car. "Shotgun," Harry yelled as you unlocked the door. 

"What? No!" Sam argued.

"You snooze, you lose Sammy, and it looks like you just lost," you laughed as Harry smirked triumphantly, throwing his bag into the trunk before sliding into the front seat. You knew Sam was nervous to get back to the flat. Worried that maybe his brothers would judge you based on the appearance of your place. 

You parked the car and led the boys up to your place, unlocking it and slipping inside. 

"Wall of champions huh?" Tom asked as he admired the drunk scribbles of the pong wall. 

"Me and Sammy boy are undefeated," you announced proudly pointing to the top where your names were scribbled out. 

"No," Harry laughed, shaking his head, "there is no way, Sam is awful, and has never won. Ever!" 

"Board doesn't lie, red," you told him, shooting Sam a smile. 

"Prove it," Harry said. 

You looked at Sam who had a mischievous look plastered on his face, neither of you were ones to back down from a challenge. So you spent the early afternoon drinking and Whooping Sam's brothers asses at beer pong. Easily.

"She carries you," Tom told Sam as he dropped himself onto the futon.

"Does not!" Sam argued with a laugh. 

"No she does," Harry confirmed.

"Oh piss off," Sam laughed, shoving his way in-between his brothers on the sad excuse for a couch you had. "We need a new couch," he groaned. 

"Let's go shopping for one," Tom said randomly. 

"We're drunk," you pointed out. 

"We can Uber," Tom laughed. You rolled your eyes but reluctantly agreed. 

~

You stood in your living room in your fuzzy pajama pants and tank top staring at the giant couch that was now taking up a majority of the room and the two sleeping boys on it. 

"We actually did that?" Sam groaned, walking out of his room in only boxers. "I've never been so drunk in my life," 

"Day drinking for the win," you told him, holding your fist up for him to bump. The prior night consisted of way too much drinking and then shopping at furniture stores, before going to a pub for more drinking. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't even recall getting the sectional into the apartment. 

Your head was pounding and you felt like you had been hit by a bus. So you opted to exclude yourself from any activities Sam had planned for him and his brothers, and instead spend the day catching up on your studies. 

You found yourself sprawled out on the new couch with books around you as you worked on your laptop. Regardless of the fact it was a drunk purchase, you had to admit the couch was pretty comfortable. 

You didn't realize you had fallen asleep until you were woken up by someone moving beside you. You sat up watching as Harry settled in. He glanced over to you and sighed. 

"Sorry I was trying to avoid waking you," he said apologetically. 

"S'ok, where's Sam and Tom?" You asked. 

"Club," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes, before grabbing the books from next to you and setting them onto the table. 

"You didn't want to go?" You asked. 

"Not in the mood," he said, smiling at you. You felt a tad guilty about being happy Harry had chosen to not go, opting instead to hang out with you. Sam had been right, you and Harry had A LOT in common, so talking and joking with him came almost naturally. He radiated positivity, it was like if he was a color, it was yellow 100%

After a couple hours of talking about everything you could think of, the room fell silent. "Let's go on an adventure," Harry suggested.

"An adventure?" You wondered. 

"Why not?" He laughed. 

"I'm not very adventurous," you admitted coyly. 

"That's ok, we'll figure something out. Let's just drive until inspiration strikes,"he said, standing up and extending his hand for you to take. 

Your decision to say yes was probably where everything went wrong, but looking back.. you would do everything the same if you were given a second chance.  

~

You parked your car on the side of the lake. Looking over at Harry with a skeptical look. "You gonna back out?" He asked. 

"Harry, it's only like 68° out here," you reminded him. He nodded with a smile before opening the door and getting out of the car. Somehow both of the Holland twins had a way of convincing you to do crazy things. 

You got out, feeling the chill of the air make goosebumps raise on your skin. "Harry, I'm not sure about this," you admitted walking towards where he was now standing on the dock. 

"Me either, but it's not an adventure without a little hesitation," he told you. 

"Who told you that?" You asked, laughing. He thought about it for a minute and shrugged. 

"Ok, let's do it," he told you, giving you a nod. You sighed nodding back before slowly peeling your pants down your legs and then your shirt over your head. You took a deep breath before removing your underwear and then unclipping your bra. 

You stood completely naked staring out at the ice cold water, not daring to look at the boy beside you, no matter how badly you wanted to. You felt his fingers interlace with yours. “Ready?” He asked. 

“Nope. let's do it,” You told him, squeezing his hand. You followed his movements. As soon as his body lunged forward, yours followed, hitting the icy water almost instantly. It felt as if there were pins and needles poking you on every inch of your body, and when you finally came back up to the surface, you gasped trying to catch your breath, your body tensed up from the shock of the temperature. 

"Adventures. Are. Dumb." You shuttered. You could see Harry's teeth catering together.

"That. That was stupid," he admitted swimming back to the dock and pulling himself out. He reached out his hand, grabbing yours and hoisting you back onto the dock.

"Remind me to never go on an adventure with you again," you laughed, before realizing something. "We don't have towels," 

Harry's eyes widened, "no we don't," you stood on the dock, completely naked trying to shield your body. 

"I have a blanket in my hatch. We can turn on the heater and sit under it until we're dry," you offered. 

"That sounds good," he told you before grabbing the clothes from the ground. You rushed to your car, opening the trunk and jumping in. Luckily you had left the keys in the ignition, so all it took was you leaning over the seat to crank on the car. Forgetting about your completely exposed state. Harry pulled the hatch closed as he crawled into the car, tossing the clothes into the back seat and unfolding the blanket. You plopped down beside him, pulling the corner to cover yourself, hoping the heater would warm the two of you up fast. 

After a few (awkward) moments, Harry finally spoke up. "You have a nice body," he said quietly. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. 

"Harry, were you looking at my naked body?" You joked, knowing it would have been impossible for him to have not seen you. 

"I mean, when I came to crawl in you were bent over the back seat. Like on full display. Would have been hard to not look," he laughed, turning away to hide the blush that was gracing his ears and cheeks. "This trunk is roomy," he said, trying to change the subject. 

"Me and Sam had to sleep in here once, hence the blanket," you told him. 

"So you two?" Harry wondered. 

"No, never. He's like my half-soulmate, like in a friendly way, you know?" You asked.

"Well he's my womb mate so kind of," he admitted. You couldn't help but laugh. "You know, we will probably warm up faster, if we're closer," Harry said shyly. His logic was right, but you were worried about your self control. 

"Yeah, ok," you mumbled, scooting closer, until your leg was touching his.

"Can I put my arm around you?" He asked. You nodded quickly. You let out a sigh of relief at his warmth,as you let yourself snuggle into his body, being cautious not to place your hands anywhere questionable.

It was nice. It was strangely intimate as well. "Sam told us you were beautiful, but I can't believe how breathtaking you are," Harry said quietly after a few minutes. You glanced up to his face, his eyes were closed, and it seemed like he was trying to focus on his breathing. 

"Are you just saying that because you have seen me naked?" You asked. He laughed, before opening his eyes and looking at you. 

His eyes met yours, and it was like you were each seeing something you had been looking for for way too long. You saw his eyes shift down to your lips.  

"No, Y/N, you are just breathtaking, clothes and all," he told you, brushing stray hairs from your face. 

Your next movements were slow. You glanced down to his lips, and back to his eyes before slowly leaning in, giving him plenty of time to curve your movements, but he didn't. Instead he followed them.

"We shouldn't," you whispered, faces so close you could feel his breath on your lips. 

"I know," he told you. You bit your bottom lip, before looking into his eyes. There was something about Harry, something that was throwing all your inhibitions out the window. All you could think about was how his lips would feel on yours. His hand reached up, rubbing his thumb across your face, you closed your eyes and leaned in, closing the distance between your lips. 

The second your lips met you felt something ignite in you. He kissed you slowly, not rushing into anything. His lips were soft and warm, and made you melt into him. Turning your body more, your naked chest pressed against his as your fingers laced themselves in the curls on the base of his neck. 

As he rested his hand on your waist, squeezing lightly, as he deepened the kiss. 

His tongue swiped across your lower lip, looking for access, which you quickly granted. You leaned back as his lips found themselves trailing your jaw and to your neck. 

"Sam will kill us," you let out, as you threw your head back giving him more access to your neck. 

"Let him," he mumbled into your neck, before continuing his task. You knew you should stop him. This was the first step, in the wrong direction. Harry was someone you could easily fall in love with, and if you stopped now, you could pretend this naked, heated, makeout session had never happened. But then his hand slid down from your waist to your thigh, as he pushed you farther back onto your back. 

You pulled his face back to yours, reconnecting your lips with his in a hungry kiss. 

You continued the heated kissing for a while, letting yourself lose control, something that did not come easily for you. 

"Harry," you moaned into his lips, making him lift his head. 

"Tell me what you want darling," he told you, face red from kissing you. You pushed him up and over so he was sitting again. 

"Do you want me?" You asked. He nodded quickly, grabbing your waist to pull you over to him. You threw one of your legs over his, and let him get himself situated, grabbing his hard member and lining it up to your entrance. You let yourself sink down slowly onto him, enjoying the initial feeling of him filling you up. 

"Christ, y/n, you're so tight," he groaned, as he bottomed out on top of him. you leaned forward resting your head on his shoulder, getting used to the stretch he was giving you, before you started to move slowly. He kept his hands on your hips, helping you with your moviments, but never forcing them, letting you choose the speed of your thrusts. 

Harry peppered your neck with kisses as you held onto him, letting little moans and whines escape your mouth as you rode him slowly. 

He whispered sweet nothings to you, making you lose it, hearing you were 'perfect' and 'so beautiful,' 

"M'So close," you moaned out, as your movements became more rigid. 

"I've got you darling," Harry whispered as he took over, and began thrusting up into you, he let his hand slip between your body's, finding your bundle and rubbing it as he thrust into you. "Oh god," you groaned, throwing your head back. 

"Let go for me darling," he said as he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck. 

As soon as you felt him twitch inside of you, you felt the band in your stomach snap. You felt yourself convulsing around him as his thrusts became sloppy and slowed, having hit his peak with you. 

You let your forehead rest against his, both of your breathing heavy. "Wow," you whispered. 

"I think I like adventures with you," he chuckled, making you roll your eyes before kissing him again. 

~

Your eyes opened to the light streaming through the window. At first you were confused at the amount of windows surrounding you, and then it hit you. 

"Oh god," you groaned, sitting up. 

"What?" Harry gasped, sitting straight up. 

"We fell asleep," you told him as you rustled around you to find your clothes. "I don't know where my clothes are," you groaned. Harry placed a hand on your check, turning your face to him. 

"Back seat darling," he told you, before leaning in and kissing you. He pulled away sooner than you would have liked and reached over the seat grabbing the clothes from last night. 

You both dressed quickly, moving to the front of the car. The drive home wasn't a long one, and you were relieved when you arrived home to find that neither Sam or Tom were there. 

"So," Harry said as you poured both of you a glass of water. 

"What?" You giggled sliding it over to him. 

"Last night was incredible for me, and I don't do the sleeping with random people thing," he told you.

"And you think I do?" You asked him.

"What? No!" He told you, nearly spitting out his water. You couldn't help but laugh. "I just mean, that I'd like to do it again, maybe take you out as well, get to know you more," he told you, reaching for your hand. You laced your fingers with his, blushing as a smile spread across your face. 

"I'd like that," you whispered. Harry went to move around the counter, but as soon as he got off the stool the front door swung open and a very hungover Sam and an amused Tom came in. Pushing whatever moment you were having to the back burner. 

"You let him get pissed?" You asked Tom as you rushed over to your best friend who looked like death. 

"To be fair, I tried to stop him multiple times, but he kept telling me 'I'm in college I can handle my booze'" Tom laughed.

"Sammy," you groaned as you pushed him onto the couch. 

"Sorry mom," he mumbled as his eyes fluttered shut. 

You rolled your eyes at how dumb he could be. 

"What did you guys do last night?" Tom asked, walking over to where Harry was in the kitchen. 

"Went on a late night adventure," Harry told him, avoiding eye contact. 

"Oh yeah? What did you do?" Tom repeated. 

"Nothing really," Harry mumbled, trying to avoid Tom. But Tom knew Harry better than anyone. 

"Harry?" Tom asked, making the boy look at him. 

Tom gasped, looking from Harry over to you and then back. "Tell me you didn't Baz," Tom groaned. 

"Didn't want?" You asked, confused.

"You two had sex," tom whisper yelled. 

Your eyes grew wide and you could feel your cheeks heating up, "how would you gather that by just looking at him?" You demanded. 

"Sex glow," Tom explained. 

You snorted before rolling your eyes. "Oh whatever," you told him, not buying it.

"So you didn't then?" Tom asked, looking directly at Harry, who's cheeks immediately reddened. "Jesus you two, Sam is going to be livid," he informed you. 

"We're not going to tell him," Harry said quickly, to which you agreed just as quickly. 

Tom shook his head, "was it just the one shag? Or are there feelings?" Tom asked. You looked at Harry and bit your lip. He nodded before speaking back up. "Just the one shag, no feelings at all, " he lied. 

~

You sat in the driver's seat of your car, waiting.  Memories flooding your mind of that night weeks prior. You glanced down at your phone, checking the time again. You were being impatient, but to be fair you had been waiting for this for a long time, too long. Having had to accept secret calls and texts as enough for the time being. But now it was time, you somehow managed to clear up a weekend, and he happened to be free, and now you were going to sneak away, and not be a secret for just a few days, not have to hide behind a screen, or be a distant voice. 

Your phone began to buzz in your lap and you looked down to see the contact name you had changed a few weeks ago “My baz <3”

“You here?” you asked, bringing it up to your ear.

“Just landed. Am I getting my bag and heading out to you?” he wondered. 

“Yup. and then we will have two whole days uninterrupted, just us, in a virbo, naked, and sweaty and-” you were cut off by his laughing.

“Someone is clearly eager,” he told you.

“Fuck, i messed you sweetheart” he told you. 

“Yes i am, the phone sex and sexting isn't doing it for me, I've literally had the real thing baby. Now I want it again, so hurry up so we can get out of town,” you groaned, as there was a knock on your window. You jumped, and turned to see him standing at your door, red curls crazy from a cat nap he had surly taken on the flight over, and a smile so big you could drown in it. You jumped from the car throwing yourself into his already full arms, making him drop his duffel bag, but he didn't seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you up in his hug, and burying his face in your neck. 

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. 

"Let's go," you urged him, impatient for what you knew was to come later. You began the hour-long drive to the weekend rental you had gotten for the two of you. Making sure you would be alone, and able to not be bothered by anything. Or so you thought. 

"Sam's calling you," Harry said as you turned another corner.

"What, why? He thinks I'm with my dad for the weekend," you told Harry. Looking down at your phone. Harry shrugged. 

You answered the phone hoping it was nothing. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, I uh, have a problem," Sam sounded worried.

"What?" You asked. 

"I wanted to make sure it was okay that I invited Harry to stay with us for the two weeks we have off of school next month, because I already invited him.. and I totally forgot to ask," he muttered. You felt a smile grow on your lips. 

"I don't know Sam, I'm not sure me and Harry got on well," you joked, peaking Harry's interest. 

"Really?" Sam asked. 

"Yeah, I just thought he was annoying and I'm pretty sure he didn't like me at all," you told him. Harry started to shake his head and roll his eyes. "I am fine with it Sammy," 

"You sure?" Sam wondered. "Cause I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable by any means,"

"Positive," you confirmed 

"How's spending time with your dad?" He asked you.

"Good, hey look we just got somewhere so I gotta go, call you back later. Love you, bye," you hung up the phone before he could continue any conversation, knowing he would keep you on the phone for an hour if you let him. 

"You love him?" Harry asked. 

"What?" 

"You love Sam?" He repeated.

"Course I do," you smiled at him. 

"He's lucky to have you, you're a good friend," he told you. Your brows furrowed as you looked over to him. 

"Is that what we are? Friends?" You asked.  You parked the car in front of the house and turned to look at Harry. 

"Do you want to be more?" He Wondered. 

"I mean, the way I feel about you, I don't feel about any of my other friends," you whispered. 

"And how do you feel?" He asked.

"Well, when I see that you're calling or texting me I get this feeling in my stomach, it's like an insistent fluttering, that never goes away, as long as I'm talking to you, gets me all flustered and nervous. And when you told me you were going to be able to come this weekend, I was so excited, because it meant I could spend even a second with you alone." You smiled at him before biting your lip, "I really like you," 

"I like you too y/n, more than I think I've ever liked anyone," he told you, reaching his hand out to caress your cheek. "And because of that I've had something on my mind," 

"Oh yeah? You asked 

"Yeah, I mean I know it won't make much of a difference since we'll still have to keep it a secret, but I'd really like it if you were my girlfriend," he told you, his cheeks flushed red as he watched you closely for a reaction. 

You leaned in close, nearly touching his lips with your own, "I would love to be your girlfriend," you whispered before closing the space between you in a kiss. 

Everything with Harry was easy, even though the situation was strange, and the secrets and lying were hard, everything felt natural. Every Time you talked to him it felt like home, and you knew you were in over your head. If you had hoped to not fall in love with him, you absolutely would have been let down by yourself. You knew you were going to hell for lying to Sam, but you couldn't change the way you felt, and although you wished you weren't hurting him, you didn't regret anything you had going on with his twin brother. 

~

You entered the little rental house, surprised at how cute and quaint the decor was. It had a very boho chic feel to it, there was a four poster bed in the middle of the room with sheer curtains streaming down. There was a little sectional in the corner with a television in front of it, and a little kitchenette to the right of the room. The owners had left a fresh vase of roses on the little table along with a basket that had chocolates and a few other things inside. 

“This is romantic,” Harry said, as he looked around the room. 

“The pictures were cute, and it had good reviews, i didn't expect this though,” you admitted. 

Harry walked over to the bed, pushing the drape to the side and looking towards you. “Come test it out with me?” He asked. You rolled your eyes at him, but went over, slipping off your shoes and climbing onto the bed (Which felt like a cloud)

“It's nice,” you hummed as you let your body sink into the mattress. 

“Be nicer, if i wasn't so constricted by these clothes,” he told you, making you look over to see his smirking face. 

“Oh yeah?” you asked, turning to face him. 

“Oh yeah,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows at you. He adjusted himself to his side so he was facing you now. 

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered. 

“That night,” he muttered, “The way you looked, riding me, falling apart on my cock. How tight your pussy was and the way it clenched around me while I whispered sweet nothings in your ear,” your eyes widened in shock at the filth of his words. 

“Harry,” you giggled. 

“Come on, you know you have been thinking of it.  I know I can't get the sound of your moans out of my head, the small whimpers you were letting out with every stroke of my cock on your g spot,” you felt your walls clench around nothing at his words. He knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. “I just wish we had had more time that night, I could have had you whimpering if I had been given the chance. I would have filled you up good with my fingers, and eaten you like you were my last meal,” he whispered. 

You closed your eyes, trying to keep from letting off how unbelievably aroused you were. You had rushed straight to the point the last time you and Harry had been left alone, but now.. There was no rush, no time crunch, you had all night, and all weekend to give into your sexual desires. Lord knows you have already given into your emotional ones. 

“Show me,” you challenged, stealing a glance at the way his mouth widened with your words. He pushed himself up onto his knees in between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down the bed and closer to him. “Harry,” you giggled. 

He ran his hands up your clothed legs, and up your body, until he was leaning over you, his face close enough that you could smell his shampoo and feel his breath fanning across your lips. “Want to make you feel good,” he whispered. 

“Do it then,” you groaned, arching your back up and into a kiss. His hands found your waist, sliding them under your shirt as he kissed you like his life depended on it. He slowly pushed your shirt up until it was pooled above your breasts and he then pulled the fabric of your bra down, taking your already pebbled nipple between his fingers and rolling it, which made a slight moan escape from your mouth. 

“Can I take these off?” he asked. You nodded quickly, sitting slightly up so he could remove the shirt. He reached behind you to unclasp your bra, but not without a little struggle. When he finally managed to get it undone, he slid the straps down your arms tossing it to the side, before dipping his head down, and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You let out a loud gasp at the sensation, as your hands instinctively found themselves tangled in his auburn curls. He made sure to do the same to the other breast before trailing open mouth kisses down your stomach and stopping at your waistband of your leggings. Glancing up to you for permission, which you nodded, overly eager for him. He hooked his finger in the waistband peeling your leggings and underwear down in one sweep. He could see how wet you already were for him, from the glistening sheen of your cunt.  

He ran two fingers through your folds, stopping at your clit and pushing down. “Oh,” you moaned out at the unexpected pressure. 

“So wet for me darling,” Harry whispered.

“I have been waiting for this,” you admitted, looking up to see him smirking at you. 

“Oh you have?” He asked, pulling his fingers almost all the way out before plunging them back in.  He brushed your g spot with the tip of his fingers making you moan out his name and arch your back. “Been waiting for this?” he asked as he continued to finger fuck you. 

“Yes, Harry,” you moaned, as you felt a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Harry moved his thumb, and you almost whined at the loss of stimulation, until you felt his tongue lick up from above his fingers to your nub, wrapping his lips around it as he began to suck slightly. You were done at that point, and you knew it. “So close har,” you warned, but he didn't falter in his actions in the slightest. Instead he sped them up, pushing you over the edge even faster. With a loud moan of his name, your back arched off the mattress and your toes curled, as you felt an explosion of bliss. Harry continued his movements through your orgasm, only slowing and coming to a stop when your legs quit shaking and you seemed to relax. 

“Fuck, y/n. You're bloody perfect,” he mumbled, bringing his lips to yours, you could taste yourself on his lips, but you didn't even mind. All you could focus on was the fact that he was way overdressed, for the activities you wanted to partake in. you grabbed at the hem of his shirt, and he broke away from the kiss to allow you to pull the shirt over his head. 

You took a second to admire his bare chest, he was muscular, but  wasn't overly defined, and he, well he was perfect. 

“You're breathtaking, you know?” You told him, making him turn a shade of red. 

“Shut up,” he giggled, before reconnecting your lips in another kiss. 

You let your nails graze the naked skin on his back making him groan, and rut his hips against yours. His clothed bulge rubbing against your naked sex. “Take em off,” you instructed. He pushed himself up onto his knees, unbuttoning his jeans, but before he could push them down you sat up grabbing his hands to stop him. “Can i?” you asked. 

He smiled at you before nodding. You pushed his jeans down as much as you could, you could see the outline of his cock that was straining against his boxers. You leaned forward, placing an open mouthed kiss on the fabric. “Fuck,” harry groaned. You looked up at him through your eyelashes to see him looking down at you.

“Want me to..” you asked. 

“Yes, fuck yes. If you want to, I mean,” he stuttered out. You smiled up at him, pushing the fabric of his boxers down until his cock was free of the restraint. You took his length in your hand, pumping it a few times, as you licked your lips and leaned forward, taking him in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down as you worked what your mouth couldn't take with your hand. Harry held onto your hair loosely, watching as you sucked him off. “M’close,” he warned you. You continued what you were doing, not caring, he had done it for you, the least you could do was return the favor. You felt him begin to twitch against your tongue, as his grip on your hair tightened and his hips rutted forward, nearly making you gag before you felt him release himself the warm liquid slipping down your throat. You pulled your head back letting him out of your mouth with a pop. 

Harry pushed you back onto the bed, making you giggle at his eagerness. He let his body fall to yours, lips crashing in a deep kiss. His fingers laced with yours above your head as he moved his kisses down your jaw to your throat, sucking lightly, leaving small marks that would be a reminder for days. “Harry, I need you,” You whined. 

He lifted his head smiling, bringing his lips back to yours. His hand slipped between your bodies, lining himself up at your entrance before sinking slowly into you. He slowly thrust into you, setting a slow pace. 

“Faster, baby, please,” you moaned out. He grabbed your thigh lifting it lightly as he began to thrust into you harder. 

“You're so tight,” he groaned, as he began to quicken his movements. You reached down, rubbing your nub as he pounded into you. 

“I'm close,” You told him as you neared your second orgasm. 

He reached down, replacing your fingers with his, “Cum all over my cock darling,” he groaned. His fingers circled your clit, and with one particularly deep thrust, you felt yourself clench around him, as you whimpered at the relief. After a few more movements Harry's hips stilled and his body went limp, laying his head onto your chest. “That was incredible, you are incredible,” he told you as he laid there trying to catch his breath. 

You smiled as your eyes fluttered closed, sleep taking over your overworked body.

~ 

The weekend passed quicker than it had even come, and before you knew it you were kissing Harry goodbye at the airport where you had picked him up two days prior. 

“I wish we had more time,” you whispered as you hugged him, your face buried in the crook of his neck. 

“I'll be here next month, love. Five weeks and we will be back together, promise,” He whispered into your ear, kissing the top of your head. 

“I'll hold you to it,” you told him, kissing his lips one final time before he had to leave. 

“I’m counting on it,” he said, before walking away. Just like that, faster than he had arrived in Scotland, he left for London. 

The drive to your place was quiet, and the whole time you were fighting the urge to cry. You parked your car, and grabbed your bag, noticing a pink sleeve peeking out. You unzipped it, and saw Harry's pink hoodie, that he had probably shoved into your bag after you had practically lived in it and only it for the weekend. You couldn't help but smile to yourself. You shoved the hoodie farther into your bag, zipping it up and heading up to your flat. 

As soon as you opened the door you were hit with the aroma of a home cooked meal. Sam was standing facing the stove, focused on whatever he was stirring. 

“Smells good Sammy,” you said, startling him. 

“Oh good, your home. Come stir this for me,” he instructed holding a spoon out to you. 

"Yes chef," you said, bringing your hand up to your head and saluting him. 

"You're an idiot," he groaned at you. You walked over taking the spoon and began to stir the sauce while he cut up garnish for the top. "How was your weekend with your dad?" He asked. 

"Uh good, busy, but ok," you lied. Seemed like you were doing a lot of that to Sam recently. 

"So you guys worked everything out from that fight?" He asked you. Your eyes grew wide, realizing you had fucked up. You and your dad had gotten into a fight about money, and afterwards he had cut you off, and told you to get your life in order. It had been months since you had spoken.

"No, but we pretended so that my gram wouldn't be upset," you lied again. 

"Oh, that makes sense. I was confused when you said you were going to spend the weekend with him, I thought you might have been lying to me, glad that wasn't the case," he said as he drained the pasta. 

Guilt. That was the only thing you felt. Guilty for being a bad best friend. Guilty for lying. Guilty for not sticking to a promise you had made. You were going straight to hell. 

~

It had been a few days since yours and Harry's weekend, and he was set to be back in a little over a month. You were sitting on the couch, laptop in your lap when the pain started. At first it was a slight pinching sensation, but soon it became like a stabbing pain, and you nearly doubled over from the intensity. You tried to stand up, but let out a groan as the pain increased. Sam looked up, worried filling his face at the sight of you. 

“Y/N? You're bleeding, what's going on?” He asked, as he rushed to your side. You looked down to see a line of blood down both of your legs, and immediately got dizzy. 

“Sammy, I'm gonna pass out,” You warned him. 

“I’m taking you to the doctor,” he told you as he practically carried your limp body down to your car and drove you to the nearby emergency clinic.  

The doctors drew blood and put in an i.v to get fluids into you, all the while Sam never left your side, holding your hand tightly as he knew you hated doctors offices. 

“Okay darling, we're going to run some tests and get to the bottom of why you're feeling so bad,” the nurse told you, as she left the room. Sam sat beside you as you laid in the bed, squeezing your hand lightly. 

“It's alright, you're okay,” he cooed as he stroked your hair. Just then the door opened and a doctor came into the room. 

“Miss, Y/L/N, i have some unfortunate news, it looks like you're experiencing a miscarriage,” your jaw dropped as you heard the words coming from his mouth. You glanced up at Sam who was looking at you with raised eyebrows. 

“I- what?” you asked. Clearly not registering what you had just heard. 

“The HCG levels in your blood make me think you were maybe around ten weeks pregnant, which would explain the extreme blood loss, and the feeling like you were going to faint. The unfortunate thing is that there is not much medically that we can do, so we will send you home. Try and get some rest, take it easy and if you experience any clotting bigger than a golf ball,  come back in. ill have the nurse work up your discharge paperwork,” he turned to exit the room but stopped in the doorway, “I’m sorry guys, i know this must be hard news,” and then he left. 

“You were pregnant?” Sam asked. 

“I guess so,” you mumbled. 

“Who have you slept with? What was ten weeks ago? That was like-” Sams face fell. He looked down at you, “That was our holiday week, ten weeks ago,” He told you. You winced at his insinuation, which in and of itself gave you away. “Tell me you weren't pregnant with my brother's baby y/n?” he sighed. 

You weren't sure if it was being caught in a lie, the hormones coursing through your body, or the fact that you had just been told that you had lost a baby you were never even aware of, but you felt a sudden surge of emotions, as your eyes glossed over. Sam noticed this almost instantly. 

“Shit y/n honey, please don't cry,” he told you, but it was too late as the tears began to spill from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you nearly wailed. Sam pulled you into his arms as you cried your heart out, mumbling things about how ‘awful of a person you were’ and how you ‘didn't deserve him in your life’.  

“Y/N, try and breathe, and tell me what happened,” he whispered as soon as your crying settled slightly. So you tried to explain what had happened, where you had gone wrong, and when your heart had been opened to his brother.

~ 

“Are you mad at me?” you asked as Sam tucked you into the couch with your favorite fuzzy blanket. He hadn't said a word to you since you had left the hospital. 

“I am,” he sighed, sitting down beside you. “Y/n, what happens if he hurts you? If he breaks your heart into a million pieces? What happens when I'm forced to choose a side? What happens when I have to choose him over you even if I know he was in the wrong?” he asked, voice cracking, and tears prickling his eyes. “What happens if I lose you over something he does? I'd be crushed, your my best friend, the person i turn to when things are hard, the one who knows me inside and out, the one id trust with my life, but he is my brother, my twin brother, you are like a stranger compared to the way i know him,” 

“Sam-” 

“No, y/n. Just- I can't have this conversation right now, because i want to yell at you, tell you how betrayed i feel, but i can't because this- what your going through, is bigger than what i feel right now,” he stood up pulling his phone from his pocket and walking to the front door. “And that's why I called him,” he said before opening the door. 

You felt tears form in your eyes again at the gesture. Your best friend putting his own feelings to the side to make sure you were ok. Harry stepped inside the house, offering a small smile to Sam who just nodded at him, obviously hurt. Harry went straight to you, pulling you into his arms as you started to cry again, this time it was even worse. 

Harry held you for what felt like hours as you cried until you fell asleep. He placed your body down gently before walking to the kitchen where Sam was standing.

“Mate-”

“No, you don't get to start. Why her? Out of every person in the world, why her?” Sam demanded.

“It just happened,” Harry said.

“That is not a reason,” Sam argued.

“She's it Sam, I don't know,” Harry said.

“You wouldn't have known that had you left her alone,” Sam was verging on pissed at that point.

“No, Sam, you don't understand. I didn't need to know her, the second I saw her in the airport standing beside you, her hair tied up and in that old pearl jam t-shirt. Everything changed, call it a gut feeling, or me being an idiot, but I swear to god Sam, I fell in love with her before she even spoke a word to me,” Harry explained, hearing the words he said for the first time out loud.

“You're in love with her?” Sam asked. 

“Desperately,” he admitted. 

“I'll hurt you, if you hurt her,” Sam warned. 

“I wouldn't expect anything less,” 

“And if she hurts you, well, i cant hurt her but i'll give her an earful,” Sam laughed. 

“I know,” Harry laughed.

“God it had to be my best friend?” Sam asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I'm sorry, the heart wants what it wants,” Harry said. 

“Who are you? Selena Gomez?” Sam asked, hitting his brother's shoulder. “I’m sorry, about the baby,” 

“I didn't even know there was a baby till you called,” He told Sam.

“She didn't know until today. You guys were careful, yeah?” he asked Harry. 

“Uhh,” 

“Harry! You fucking div! condoms man!” Sam groaned. 

“I know it was just-”

“No, no, no. I do not want to hear the specifics of you sleeping with my best friend, just- next time, CONDOMS!” Sam stressed.

“Okay, okay, that's easy enough,” Harry laughed. 

~

“You look nervous,” Sam laughed from the passenger seat of Harry's car. 

“I am,” you told him,

“You have met mum before darling,” Harry reminded you. 

“Yeah, as Sam's roommate and best friend, Not as your girlfriend,” you explained. Your stomach was in knots the entire drive from the airport to the Hollands family home. This was all new territory, sure you and Harry had been together for eight months, but meeting the family was a big feat, even if you had met them all before your relationship had started.

“I promise you will be fine, love” Harry assured you. 

“I'll hold you to that,” You muttered, as he pulled into the driveway of an extremely nice house. You felt your jaw drop, as you glanced around the house, unaware that they had grown up in such a nice place. 

Your door opened, and Harry held out his hand for you to take, which you did. Stepping out of the car and smoothing the bottom of your dress down. “Ready?” Harry asked.

You smiled up at him, “Nope. let's do it,” you squeezed his hand lightly as he pulled you along, Sam following closely behind. 

The inside of the house was just as nice, pictures of the boys lined the walls from when they were tots until now. You heard the pitter patter of paws on the hardwood and looked over to see a blue staffy running towards you. Sam dropped down hugging the dog. 

“Hi Tess, hi darling, oh i missed you too,” You giggled at the sight of the dog smothering Sam in kisses. 

“Just in time,” Niki sang as she rounded the corner. “Oh y/n,” she said, pulling you into her arms. “So glad you could join us for the holidays,” she told you, squeezing your shoulders. 

“Mum,” Harry said. 

“Oh yes, sorry please go ahead,” she giggled while backing up.

“Mum, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” Harry said, making you shoot him a strange look. 

“Oh so nice to meet you,” she gushed with a giggle.

“What-” 

“He insisted he re-introduce us with your new title,” she explained. You laughed glancing up to see a blush covering his cheeks. 

“You're cute,” you told him, before being whisked away to meet the rest of the Holland crew. 

The night ran late, as you got to know everyone. The whole Holland family was easy to get along with, you spent most of the time laughing at embarrassing childhood stories and telling stories of Sam at school. 

“Are you ready to go?” Harry whispered in your ear when he noticed you had yawned for the third time. You nodded, eyes feeling heavy from the long day. You went around saying your goodbyes to everyone, Sam opting to just head back later. So you and Harry took off to his flat which he shared with Tom and a few friends. 

Once you got to his place, he grabbed your bag, leading you inside, and passed two boys who were occupied in front of a video screen. “You can meet them tomorrow,” He told you as he helped you up the stairs. 

His room was nice, quite what you would expect from a boys room, plain bed, empty dresser, there was a shelf full of movies, and a large tv, but nothing extreme. 

“Can i have a shirt?” You asked. “To sleep in?”

Harry smiled at you before walking over to the dresser and pulling out an old t-shirt. “This one will look nice on you,” He told you. 

“Help me out of these clothes?” you asked. He leaned forward bringing his lips to you as his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress. He unzipped it slowly, pushing it off your shoulders before it fell to your ankles, revealing the lingerie set you had bought for him. 

“Oh god,” he groaned looking at the black and gold lace that lined your body. 

“You like it?” You asked with a cheeky smile. 

“I'm going to like it even more once it's on my floor,” he told you as he grabbed your bum, lifting you up and carrying you to his bed. He threw you down, and you landed with a giggle as he attacked your neck with kisses, trailing the patterned lace that laid over your breasts with one hand. “The things i want to do to you,” He growled in your ear. 

“Do whatever you want baz, i'm all yours,” You said with a wink. 

“Whatever I want huh? What if I just want to make sweet love to you all night?” He asked, catching you off guard. 

You smiled and brought your thumb up to his mouth tracing his lip and the birthmark right beside it. “Make love to me then,” you whispered. 

Harry bit his bottom lip, as he looked into your eyes. “I love you,” He blurted for the first time. 

You felt your smile grow even wider, as you leaned up, kissing his lips softly. “I love you,” You mumbled into his lips. 

You stayed tangled together, lips clashing, tension burning between you, for a while. 

“Harry,” You moaned into his kiss. 

“Yeah baby?” He asked.

“Make sweet love to me?” You nearly begged. 

He smiled wide, jumping up and walking to his dresser, pulling out a little foil square and tossing it to you before quickly undressing himself. You took the chance to slip out of the lingerie you had on, laying naked and waiting for him. 

He crawled onto the bed next to you. “Sit down,” you told him. 

“Yeah?” He asked excitedly. 

“Yeah,” you told him. 

He sat down, back to the pillows, and legs spread open, waiting for you. You ripped open the condom, rolling it over his member slowly in a teasing manner. “Y/N” he groaned, making you laugh.

“Alright,” You laughed, climbing on top of him, and lining him up to your entrance. 

“This feels familiar,” He whispered as you sank down onto him.

“Going back to the beginning,” you whispered as you began to move slowly. You wrapped your fingers in his hair as you brought your lips to his, letting all the love flow between the two of you. 

“I love you,” Harry mumbled into your lips. 

“I'm in love with you,” You told him. He grabbed your bum before flipping you onto your back. “Harry,” You giggled. 

“I'm so glad I found you y/n. I feel like I had been lost at sea and you were the lighthouse that guided me home,” he expressed.

“Harry,” You whispered feeling your heart skip a beat.

“I love you so much,” He whispered, before connecting your lips again, and moving his hips, sinking farther and farther into you with each thrust. You continued to kiss him, fingers tangled into his curls as he grinded into you, bringing you both to your breaking points. 

“Harry,” You moaned as you reached your climax.

“God Y/n, you look so beautiful falling apart because of my cock,” he groaned as his thrusts became rigid and rough. 

“Cum for me, Harry,” You moaned in his ear as he reached his peak finishing into the condom. 

He rolled off of you, disposing of the condom in the bin by his bed and turning back to you. 

“I love you,” He whispered again. 

“I like the sound of that,” You sighed, as you snuggled into his body. “And I love you too,” you whispered.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 108: Ideal (Happy Birthday, Harry Potter)

Harry hadn’t had very many good birthdays.

Somehow, in spite of that fact, he’d imagined that his 19th birthday would be different. Last year, on his 18th birthday, when they’d spent the day rebuilding Hogwarts, Harry had reflected on his many terrible birthdays and told himself that 18 would be the last bad one. He’d told himself that on his 19th birthday there would be a party, he’d have his friends around him, and maybe just for that one day, they could forget everything bad and just have fun.

But now he was single, living in muggle London, without any friends nearby, and without any happy plans in place. He decided that he had to do something today, there must be something that could make his birthday not quite so glum.

He set off toward a coffee shop a few blocks from his house and ran smack into a door as a woman was coming out. She apologized but Harry was too distracted by what he saw inside of the store. From where he stood he could see reptiles, and birds, and he thought he could make out cats in the corner, and somewhere there was the faint sound of puppies yipping.

Waving the woman off he entered the animal shelter, feeling like might have found something good after all. He wandered in; first past the birds, then the reptiles, then to the kittens and full-grown cats. He paused with the cats for a little while, trailing his fingers along their cages and talking to them softly. Then he moved past them to the dogs and puppies.

There had to be about 10 altogether, different breeds and types, some sleeping, some playing together, some just wandering about sniffing. Several came charging over to the edge of their pen when they saw him, wagging their tails eagerly and he just knew. He looked up and waved to a sales associate who was straightening some pet supplies. “Sorry, I just wonder if I could meet some of the dogs?”

“Oh, sure!” she replied brightly. “Draco is on the dogs today, I’ll call him over. Just a mo.”

That was an odd name, Harry thought, it must be a coincidence. Surely Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be working in a Muggle Animal Shelter of all places. It was preposterous. Yet a moment later he heard a voice he’d recognize anywhere, “Sir, is there something I can help you with?”

Harry’s jaw dropped and he turned to look at the boy who had been his nemesis for several years, “Malfoy?” he asked incredulously, yet somehow he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. It was his birthday after all.

(Read more below the cut)

“Potter? What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

“Oh, you boys know each other?” Annie asked with a wide smile.

“Uh,” Harry said inarticulately even as Malfoy said, “Yes, we went to school together.”

“Oh, it’s always nice to run into old friends!” she exclaimed. “Well, I’ll just leave you two to catch up and to find this young man a puppy!”

“You’re here to adopt a puppy?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

“Or a grown-up dog,” Harry replied defensively, feeling like this sort of luck was quite typical of his birthdays.

“And you just happened to show up at the one shelter in all of London that I work at?”

“Well, it’s not like I knew you worked here. It’s my birthday and I just wanted one happy thing-”

“A dog is a big commitment. It’s not just something you decide you want one day then discard the next.”

“I know that!” he protested. “And I want a commitment. I want something to love and take care of, something that loves me in return. I want something that is there all the time.”

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment. “Alright. What kind of dog are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe I could meet them and then I’d know which one was the right one.”

“Trust me, Potter, if you do it that way you’ll take home 5 dogs.”

“Maybe I want five dogs,” Harry said stubbornly. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else on at the moment.”

Malfoy snorted, “Have you ever owned a dog, Potter?”

“No,” Harry replied. “Have you?”

“No,” Malfoy said. “For one thing I’m not allowed to have them in my flat and for another, I don’t have the time and energy for a dog. Dogs are a lot of work and I’m not saying you can’t do it,” he said, as Harry opened his mouth to protest. “I’m just saying, maybe you should start with one dog.”

Harry frowned but it did make sense, he supposed.

“Come on, Potter, tell me about your ideal dog and I’ll still let you meet all of them,” he said as he started toward the back. When Harry didn’t follow he said, “Come on, you can’t meet them out there.”

Harry followed him through a door that led behind the glass.

“So, when you imagine your perfect dog, do you think you want a dog with a lot of energy or that’s a little more lowkey?”

“Umm,” Harry said, imagining that he’d like a dog who wanted to play but also thinking of how hard some days were. “Maybe a little lower energy, but one that would still like taking walks and want to play a little bit each day.”

“Well, most of our dogs will want to play at least a little bit here and there,” he replied. “So meet Artemis first,” he said, as he went into the area all of the dogs were in and led one dog out. “She is not for you,” he said as the dog bounded over to Harry and Harry knelt down to pet her. She licked his face and put her paws up on his shoulders to sniff his hair.

“Why isn’t she for me?” he asked, tipping his head up to avoid being licked in the mouth. “Hi Artemis,” he said. “Hello, beautiful girl,” he said as he stroked her sides, combing through her soft fur. “You’re a lovie, aren’t you?”

“She is,” Malfoy confirmed, rubbing her head between her ears. “But our Artemis is part Australian Cattle Dog which means she is very high energy. She needs to run every day regardless of the weather and she needs a lot of stimulation. She is a very smart girl and there will be a perfect home for her, but you aren’t it.”

“But I like her,” Harry said, wrestling with her a little bit.

“You’ll like lots of them,” he said. “I promise.” Then he added, “And if she is your favorite, there’s nothing saying she can’t come back out so you can have her.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed reluctantly.

“Alright,” Malfoy repeated. “So that’s Artemis, you can meet Pontus next,” he said, before calling Artemis back to the playroom where the other dogs were. “Pontus isn’t completely trained yet, we’re still working with him on basic commands, so I’ll just have to go in and get him.”

Harry nodded and sat back on his heels to wait, a moment later a huge dog came out, panting and dragging Malfoy behind him.

“Pontus,” Malfoy said reprovingly.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as the dog barreled into him and knocked him off his feet with a couple of raucous barks. He pinned Harry’s shoulders to the floor and licked his face quite thoroughly, butting his glasses completely off his face. “Hey, boy,” Harry managed, pushing at his broad chest so he could sit up.

Malfoy was tugging at the dog’s collar, seemingly to no avail. Finally, between the two of them, they got him enough off of Harry that he could sit up.

“Well, hello to you, too, handsome,” Harry said with a chuckle as he scratched behind his ears and Pontus tried to sit in his lap.

“Pontus is very sweet but he is an oaf,” Malfoy said as he brushed his hair back out of his face. “He is part American Pitbull and part something huge and dumb. We can’t quite figure him out.”

“He’s a nice boy,” Harry said as Pontus tried to chew on a bit of Harry’s fringe.

“No,” Malfoy reprimanded the dog, tugging him back from Harry. “Yes, he is, but he needs a firm hand, Potter, and you are too soft. Once he’s trained a little bit he’ll be a very good boy but you just let him eat your hair so you’re definitely not his.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, patting the dog’s side. “I think you’re probably right.”

“Did you hit your head on the floor when he knocked you over?”

“Not really,” Harry said as he reached back to rub the back of his head and Pontus butted him to get him to keep petting him, “Yes, alright, you demanding thing,” he said with a chuckle. “Why do you ask?”

“Well because you admitted I was right and it didn’t seem to hurt you even a little bit.”

Harry laughed, “You’re a git. I’ll have you know it didn’t hurt me one bit.”

“My, my,” Malfoy said with a small smile, “Is this what we call character development?”

“Yes, I see you,” Harry said as Pontus flopped over onto his back on top of Harry’s legs so he could rub his belly.

“He likes you,” Malfoy said with a grin.

Harry looked up at him, “He seems pretty friendly, Malfoy. I bet he likes everyone.”

Malfoy shrugged one annoyingly elegant shoulder, “Not really. He’s usually not too keen on men, in fact.”

“And you let him all but attack me?” Harry asked in mock offense. “I mean, I know you don’t like me, Malfoy, but killing me seems a little much.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “He doesn’t attack people. It’s a common misconception about his breed. It’s all about how they are raised and trained, just like it is with every dog. Except possibly chihuahuas.”

Harry laughed, “I don’t know anything about his breed,” he said honestly. “I just meant that he tackled me to the floor pretty quickly.”

“Yes,” he said, “But when Pontus doesn’t like someone he cowers from them, he doesn’t attack them. He will do whatever he can to put as much distance and as many obstacles as he can between him and the person he’s afraid of.”

“Well, I think he’s sweet,” Harry said, his heart in his throat at the thought of this poor dog being so afraid. “Maybe I could adopt him-” he started.

“Oh no you don’t,” Malfoy said and he leaned down and grasped Pontus’ collar once more. “His person will come and in the meantime, he will have us to look after him. He is not the dog for you; he will wreck your entire house and you’ll let him. He deserves a family who will train him and teach him to be a good boy because he wants to be a good boy.”

Pontus stood up and wagged his tail at Malfoy, slapping Harry across the face. “Ow!” Harry said, shoving at Pontus’ rear end, “Stop hitting me with your tail. That hurts!”

“His tail is very strong,” Malfoy said with a chuckle, “Come on you,” he said to Pontus, “You can go back and play.”

A moment later he came back in, carrying a squirmy puppy in his arms. Harry reached out for it immediately, “Hello,” he cooed at it as the pup started to sniff him.

“This is Caerus,” he said. “He’s a beagle mix, which is quite obvious by his love of sniffing and by his sweet floppy ears.”

“Hi Caerus,” Harry said, holding him up so they were nose to nose, “You are very cute. Yes, you are.”

“He’s just going up for adoption,” Malfoy said. “He was a little touch-and-go for a while, his brother and sisters all died. He was in a very unsafe situation when we found him and we really didn’t know if he’d make it or not, but he’s a fighter.”

He squirmed to get down and Harry set him on the floor and he took off sniffing around the room they were in, following his nose.

“He will have no trouble being adopted. He is young and adorable, and people love puppies.”

“He is really cute,” Harry said as he watched him run around. “But he’s not for me.”

“I agree,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Oh, you’re looking for someone who’s a real rescue.”

“What does that even mean?” Harry asked.

Malfoy watched the little dog walking around the room, investigating and sniffing as he said, “It means that you have a hero complex, Potter, which I can’t even blame you for because you were raised to have one. But you want to rescue a dog who’s come from a rough life and knows it. You want a dog that will love you unconditionally and whose sun rises and sets with you.”

“Well-” Harry started, feeling a little defensive.

“That wasn’t a criticism,” Malfoy said quickly. “It’s a good thing. It means that you want to really bond with your dog and vice versa. Frankly, you’ll be a great pet parent.”

“Err,” Harry said inarticulately. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said with another one of those shrugs. “Besides, you’re not cut out to train a puppy.”

Harry laughed, “I could learn.”

“You could,” he conceded. “Maybe. You don’t like to be the bad guy and sometimes when you’re training a dog you have to be able to say a firm no. Especially with puppies.” Before Harry could respond, Malfoy was bending over and scooping up Caerus, “Alright, Mister. Back to the puppy room with you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

When he came back he brought two puppies with him, both with curly, white hair. “Meet Castor and Pollux,” he said.

“Hello,” Harry replied, petting both of them as they squirmed on the floor and started to tousle with one another, both yipping happily as they played.

“We are hoping someone will adopt them as a set. They’ve never been apart a day in their lives and they basically only socialize with one another, no matter what we do with them. They both cry inconsolably when they are separated.” He crouched down beside Harry and stroked one of their backs, “They are also definitely not for you, but I told you that you could meet all of them.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smile as Malfoy scooped them back up and carried them back to the other room.

A moment later he came in, walking slowly and leading a dog who limped along behind him. “This is Molly,” he said as he led her over to Harry. She wagged her tail happily at him and plopped down next to him. “She is the sweetest, gentlest dog you’ve ever met.”

Harry stroked her head and she laid her head on his lap.

“She’s a black lab mix and she is a love,” he said as he crouched next to Harry once more, “She has had a hard life and she would love you until the day she died, but she is also not for you.”

“What?” Harry asked, looking up at Malfoy, “Why not?”

“Well first because she is special needs, she’s blind, her liver is pretty much shot, she’s all but deaf, she can’t manage stairs, and she is on a variety of medications.”

“I could learn how to deal with all of those things!” Harry protested. “Poor girl, she just needs a home.”

“That’s the second reason you can’t have her,” he said. “She’s already been adopted. She’s the owner’s dog. He just brings her along because he can’t leave her alone at home all day.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Yes, oh,” Malfoy replied. “She’s a good old girl.”

“Why doesn’t her name match all the others?”

Malfoy flushed slightly and Harry couldn’t help but find it a little charming, “I named all of the others,” he confessed. “We just need something to call them while they’re here and I like to give them new names if they’ve come from somewhere else to help distance them from their pasts. People can change their names when they leave.”

“That’s sweet,” Harry said.

“Shut up,” Malfoy replied.

Harry laughed, “What? It is.”

He rolled his eyes, “Alright, Miss Molly, let’s go. We have to find this prat a dog and you can’t be it,” he told her as he gave her a gentle tap and started leading her out. “No, you cannot. Your dad would never give you up. No,” he said as the door closed behind him.

Next, he came in carrying a tiny dog who was yipping at him, “Yes, yes, Hermes. We all hear you.”

He set the dog down and he immediately ran over to Harry, still barking at him. Harry held out a hand to the dog to sniff, “Hello there.”

Hermes yipped at him and then ran over to Malfoy yipping before returning to Harry once more.

“Hermes thinks it’s his job to tell everyone everything. He basically never stops barking.”

“Aptly named then,” Harry said as he reached out and stroked a hand down his back.

“He’s part chihuahua, we’re certain,” Malfoy continued. “And he is trained and housebroken, his only problem is that he doesn’t stop barking.”

“Will a dog like this find a home?” Harry asked, even though he knew it couldn’t be with him.

“Oh, certainly,” he replied. “He’s young and healthy and has his basic training. There are people out there who will not mind his barking one bit.”

“I’m not one of them,” Harry said as he handed Hermes back to Malfoy.

“No,” he replied. “There are two more,” he said. “And while I think either of them could be right for you, I’m saving the one I think is perfect for last.”

“Alright.”

“I only say this so that you don’t fall completely head over heels for the next one before meeting Penelope.”

“I’ll do my best,” Harry assured him.

A few minutes later he returned with a giant black dog ambling along behind him, “This is Gaia,” he said.

Harry’s heart melted as the dog walked straight over to him and flopped down on his feet. “Hello beautiful girl,” he said as he stroked through her thick fur.

“Gaia is a six-year-old Newfoundland mix. She is house trained already, she’s a very low energy dog but she’ll go on walks and play with you. She is a very sweet girl.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, he brushed his thumb along her cheek and she stared at him with her big brown eyes. “Hi,” he said softly.

“She would love you unconditionally,” Malfoy said as he knelt beside Harry.

“Why do you think she isn’t perfect for me?”

“More than half of her life is already over,” Malfoy said. “Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.” He glanced down at the dog and stroked her side.

“But...” Harry prompted.

“But,” Malfoy said before taking a deep breath. “You’ve seen a lot of death,” he looked up at Harry then, his eyes so clear and sincere that they seemed to pierce into Harry’s very soul. “Newfies typically live 8-10 years.” He raised one shoulder, “She would be great for you, but she is going to leave you far too soon.”

Harry’s eyes stung and he looked away from Draco and down at Gaia who had fallen asleep. “Will she get adopted?”

“Yes,” Malfoy said without even a moment’s hesitation. “She is a sweet, sweet girl and people love big dogs. I give her two weeks in here tops.”

Harry stroked her ear between his fingers, “If I tell you to bring in the last one but decide I like her better?”

“You can still adopt her,” he said quickly. “Sending her back now doesn’t hurt a thing.”

He nodded once, “Alright.”

Malfoy nodded back, “Come on, Miss Gaia,” he said. “Up you get, you sleepy girl.”

She stood up, turning to look at Harry for a moment and wagging her bushy tail at him, before lumbering after Malfoy once more.

When he returned he was leading a small tan dog behind him. “This,” he said as he scooped her up, “Is Penelope.”

As Malfoy started to hand her to Harry she started wagging her tail so hard that her entire body wiggled with the movement. Harry laughed as he took her into his arms, “Well hello little one,” he said. She bumped her nose against his before licking his cheek. “Hi,” he said again.

She squirmed a bit, so he set her down, thinking this is where any that had gone wrong went wrong but she didn’t walk away, she stood up on her hind legs and pressed her front paws against his chest so she could lick under his chin.

He laughed and stroked down her sides, she was super soft and he said as much to Malfoy.

He nodded, “Yeah, our best guess for breed is a chihuahua-frenchie or chihuahua-pug mix. The pug or frenchie would account for the wrinkles that she gets in her forehead, how soft she is, her barrel chest, and the way her little ears look. Chihuahua would account for the long legs and slender build in spite of her barrel chest.”

She took her feet off Harry’s chest and Harry held his breath to see what she would do. She turned away and he thought that his mind was made up but then she turned in a circle in between his legs, then another, then a third before laying down pressed against his body as close as she could get.

Something made Harry feel like he was choking as he watched her settle against him.

“She likes you,” Malfoy said softly. “Miss Penelope is almost two. She is potty and kennel trained already but will need a little help learning basic commands, she’s relatively young so it shouldn’t be too hard. She doesn’t like going on walks when it’s too hot or too cold, but when the weather is nice she enjoys them. She likes to play fetch and she really likes to chew things. But her favorite thing is a lap to curl up on under a blanket.”

“She’s so small,” Harry said softly.

“Fifteen pounds,” Malfoy affirmed.

“Would she want to sleep in a kennel at night?” Harry asked.

“If you wanted her to,” he said.

“And if I didn’t?”

“She loves to get up on furniture with people. I’m sure she’d be glad to sleep in bed with you if that’s what you’re asking.”

She lifted her head up from where it was tucked against her chest and plopped it on Harry’s thigh, gazing up at him with warm caramel eyes.

“She would adore you,” Malfoy said softly. “I named her Penelope because I knew that whoever she chose as her person she would be unendingly faithful to.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, stroking her head before running her ear between his fingers.

Over the earpiece Malfoy was wearing, Harry could hear Annie requesting back up on the sales floor.

“Why don’t you two take a little more time together,” Malfoy said. “I’ll go check in with Annie and then when I come back you can tell me what you’ve decided.”

Penelope lifted her head as Malfoy left the room watching him until the door closed before turning to look at Harry.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, stroking his fingers down her side. “He’ll be back.” He picked her up, holding her in his arms like an infant, and she huffed a little breath before settling her head on his shoulder, tucking her nose into his neck.

“It’s alright,” he said again, even though she didn’t seem perturbed in the least. “What do you think, then?” he asked her. “Hmm?”

She pressed her nose against his neck and gave him a tiny lick.

“Do you want to come live with me?” he asked her.

Her tail twitched back and forth a few times.

“Is that a yes?” he asked as he turned his head to press his face into the fur on her shoulder. “Hmm? You want to come home with me?”

More waggles and Harry couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Do you like the name Penelope?” he asked her, shifting her so that he could see her face, he brushed his thumb over her black whiskers and she turned her head away, “Well you don’t like that, do you?” he asked and he brushed his thumb under her eye to clear a little gunk. “Sorry, little one.”

She let out a little huff at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

He held her and pet her, talking to her softly. He fell completely in love with her in a matter of minutes.

When the door opened and Malfoy stepped back in, Harry said, “Can I take her home today?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy said with a smile. “There’s a whole bunch of paperwork for you to fill out first but wait until you get a load of their quills. There’s no inkpot or anything.”

Harry laughed, “They’re pens, not quills.”

“You know about them?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

“I lived with muggles after my parents died until I was 11. Yes, I know what pens are.”

Malfoy huffed, “Why wouldn’t you have brought them to Hogwarts? Why didn’t you use them there? It would have been so much smarter.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with pens,” Harry replied with a laugh.

“Well, that's probably true. But I was an idiot.”

Before Harry could say anything in response or even process that remark fully, Malfoy was reaching for Penelope, “Let me put her with the others while we get you squared away.”

“No!” Harry said quickly, clutching her tighter against him.

“I’ll give her back, I promise,” Malfoy said.

“Can’t she just stay with me?” Harry pleaded.

Malfoy looked at him for a moment, “Yes, alright, but don’t let her distract you from the work you have to do.”

“I won’t.”

“Here,” he said, holding out a contraption to Harry. “Put this on her, she can’t be loose out on the sales floor.”

“Err,” Harry said as he reached for it. “How do I?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Merlin, Potter. It’s a harness,” he said. “Here, set her on the floor and I’ll show you how to put it on her. It’s so you can walk her on a leash.”

“Can’t I just use a collar?” he asked.

“No,” Malfoy said as he lifted one of her front legs through a hole, then the other. “Small dogs, in general, do better with harnesses than collars. Unlike larger dogs, she has a more fragile trachea so we put a harness on her instead.”

“Is she okay, though?”

“Oh, yes,” he said quickly as he snapped the harness over her back. “Right,” Malfoy said, passing him the end of her leash. “This way, I’ll take you in to see Jeff and get her paperwork filled out.”

“Great, thanks,” Harry said, “Alright, Penelope,” he said, “let’s go.” She wagged her tail and stared up at him.

“Do you have the things you’ll need for your home?”

Harry shook his head, “Can I get those things here?”

“Yes. After you fill out her adoption paperwork.”

“Will you help me make sure I get everything she needs?” Harry asked quickly, afraid he’d miss something essential.

Malfoy gave him a smile and a small nod.

When they went to the office, Malfoy knocked on the door and someone, Jeff, Harry presumed, called for him to enter.

“Hi Jeff, this is Harry Potter,” Malfoy said, gesturing for Harry to enter the room. “He’s here to adopt Penelope.”

The man at the desk looked up over the top of his glasses and gave Harry a warm smile. “That is wonderful news! Come in.”

“I’ll just leave you to it, then,” Malfoy replied.

“Draco, you should stay. I’ve been meaning for you to learn more about the actual adoption process,” Jeff said.

It took a while to fill out all of the paperwork, but once they did, Jeff said, “perfect. Now there’s just the home visit and you’ll be all set.”

Harry looked over at Malfoy and Malfoy looked at him, both realizing at the same time what a bad idea it was to have a muggle come to his house.

“I’ll do it,” Malfoy volunteered quickly.

“Your shift is almost over,” Jeff said, looking at the clock on the wall. “I can take care of it.”

“That’s alright,” he said. “I don’t mind. We’re old,” he broke off, glancing at Harry, “friends,” he finished a bit awkwardly. “I’m helping him make sure he has everything he needs anyway.”

The other man nodded, "If you're sure."

"I'm sure," he said, nudging Harry out of the office.

Malfoy helped him to buy supplies for her, laughing as Harry picked out far more toys and treats for her than he thought was necessary. The sales associate helped them to box everything up and Malfoy helped him carry everything out of the store. "How far do we have to walk?" Malfoy asked.

"Just a couple of blocks," Harry said. "Do you want me to take that?" he asked, offering him Penelope's leash in exchange.

He shook his head, "It's fine." He hoisted the box a little higher in his arms.

"Do you live near here, too?" he asked, watching Penelope trot along tail wagging as she sniffed.

"About twenty minutes by bus."

He couldn't help but chuckle, "Draco Malfoy riding a muggle bus, who would have thought it?"

But the other man didn't seem to find that amusing, he frowned, "I'm not the person you remember."

"No," Harry said quickly, "I know," he added. "I wasn't trying to say anything unkind."

"Sorry," Malfoy replied, shaking his head slightly, "It's been a while since I've seen anyone from the wizarding world." He paused then added, "People from the past don't generally say kind things."

Harry hummed, "The wizarding world is full of hypocrites and people unwilling to see the wrong they themselves have done." He shook his head, "It's a lot. It's why I left."

He nodded to the door ahead of them, "This is my house," he added.

"It's nice," Draco said.

"Thanks," he grinned as he opened the door. "Sorry, I didn't realize that I would be having company or I would have cleaned up a little more," he added as he let Malfoy inside.

He took the harness off of her and let her investigate her surroundings.

"Did you say that you aren't expecting company?" Malfoy asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, keeping one eye on the dog as he started setting up her little bed and basket of toys.

"But it's your birthday," he said.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment before clearing his throat, "Do you have a back yard?"

"Yes," he said, glad for the change of subject, "This way," he added, nodding toward the back door. "It's fenced in but it's not very big, I'll take her on walks," he hastened to add as he opened the door. Penelope wandered out and started sniffing around and something warm unfurled in Harry's chest just watching her.

The other boy glanced out the door and nodded, "This is fine, it passes the inspection."

"Good," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Come on, Penny," he called and the little dog perked her head up and came dashing across the yard and back into the house."

"Penny, huh?" Malfoy asked with an amused little smile.

"For short," Harry nodded.

"I like it," he said as they turned and headed inside. "Well, I'll get out of your hair-"

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Harry asked without really thinking about why.

Malfoy's brow furrowed, "Do you want me to?"

He shrugged one shoulder, "Only if you want to." When Malfoy didn't reply immediately he shook his head, "Never mind, it's silly. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm lonely, ignore me."

"No. I'd," he swallowed, "I'd like to stay for dinner, if you wanted. I just couldn't imagine that you'd want..." he trailed off.

"We're not the boys we were," Harry said, holding out a hand, "Harry Potter."

After a heartbeat Draco reached out and clasped his hand, "Draco Malfoy."

"Do you like pizza?" Harry asked.

He nodded, "As long as you don't put peppers on it."

"Done," he replied as Penny came over and put her paws up on his leg. He scooped her up and smiled, thinking for the first time in a long time that maybe everything was going to turn out alright.

------------

Sorry friends, this one really got away from me. It's super long. I hope that you still enjoy it! <3 Lots of love, -c

Day 107: Charge | Day 109: Coffee Shop

[writingsfromhome]

Crystal Clear

A/N: Here’s some fluff, friends to lovers I’ve had going on while I work on something bigger :))

----------------------------------------

“Y/N,” a strange man calls my name. I look him up and down but I don’t think I know him.

“Who’s asking?”

“Y/N, it’s me? Harry.”

“Oh,” I laugh and greet him how I would have if I’d recognized him under all those layers, in a great big hug. “Your disguise is brilliant!”

“It’s not a disguise,” he says into his coat. “It’s bloody cold here.”

“Coldest day so far,” I accept the hot chocolate from the vendor and ask him for another, Harry could use one, poor thing. His plans this week were changed last minute, and since he was in New York City where his best childhood friend lived, he decided to actually hang out with me. Ever since he got famous, it was hard to catch time with him.

“Did the cold freeze all the English out of you? You’re not even wearing mittens,” Harry accepts his own cup from the vendor.

“I’m got them in my pocket,” I point to the bulge on the side of my coat as we step aside and make our way deeper into the winter festival that was at Bryant Park. “Don’t insult me, I can still make a better cup of tea than you ever could.”

“There she is,” I hear the smile in Harry’s voice more than I see it. It truly was ridiculous--not only was he wearing the thickest parka I’d ever seen, he also had on a beanie and a scarf, as well as knit gloves that held tightly to his hot chocolate.

“I’m always here, you’re just too busy to see me.”

“Not this again,” he groans. I was always giving him grief every time he touched down to NYC but didn’t pop by for a visit. I knew he had a hectic schedule, and even though I wasn’t that bothered I still liked to tease him.

“It’s true, you come to the city so often but I see you once a year. And maybe again when I’m in London if I get lucky.”

“I’m busy Y/N, I talk to you all the time!”

“I know,” I elbow him. “I just like to rile you up.”

“Well now that you’ve got that out of your system,” he tugs my hat over my eyes. “Where are we going next?”

I push it back up, “I thought we could just wander the shops, then get on the skating rink if you’re not frozen to death.”

“Alright I’ve got to pick some gifts up anyway let’s see what’s here.”

We make a good team as we visit stands selling ornaments and kitschy decor, handmade gifts, and hot cider. We sift through exactly what we might want, or what the other’s looking for. And with the light dusting of snow coming down, and the bright lights strung around the Park, it was like walking in a Christmas movie.

“Look at this,” I point ahead. We’d nearly visited all the stands and holiday shops but a festive psychic advertises their services in a small glass booth. “Should we?”

“It’s a waste of money,” Harry scoffs. “She’s just going to read your body language.”

“She might be the real deal-”

“You can’t be serious-”

“C’mon!” I tug his gloves hand and it takes a few but he stumbles towards me. It’s slightly warmer inside and I notice the space heater running in the corner. “At least it’s warm” I whisper to Harry.

“You really want to do this?” He asks one last time.

“It’s just $10-”

“$20 for the two,” the woman almost shifts out of the wall and I hide my jump with a laugh. There’s a curtain behind her, I realize, she must have stepped out.

“It’s just me,” I clarify.

She eyes Harry and Harry eyes her back. “You look familiar.”

“Just have that face,” he shrugs, burrowing into his scarf. “I’m just here to watch.”

She stares at him a moment longer before settling at the small table. I flash Harry a smile before sitting down myself, setting my bags onto the floor.

“Palm reading, cards, what will it be dear?” The psychic asks. I remember the sign out front said cards would be more than having my palm read so I opt for the cheaper option.

“Hm,” she says thoughtfully as she traces the lines on my palm. I wriggle my eyebrows at Harry and he rolls his eyes, but he stays watching her like a hawk. It was cute how overprotective he got sometimes. The psychic glances up to catch him watching her, she then glances at me and tilts her head.

“I see longevity, in life and love, a few bumps but you’re a strong persistent woman.”

Harry grumbles behind me and I resist the urge to say something to him.

“I see success after hard, hard work. But a big success that will change the course of your career.”

“Wow, how soon?” I ask.

“Mmm, after a big milestone. Turning 30?” she continues to examine my hand. “I see a second life later in life, with kids...just one no maybe two children.”

“How about her love life?” Harry asks. “Her last love s’not too nice.”

“Seriously Harry?” I turn to glare this time. He’s grinning with flushed cheeks, knowing it was a sore spot he liked to say i told you so to. It was true, he had told me so about my 3 year relationship but I’d ignored him.

“Your love life,’ the woman speaks up. “Shows me two great loves. One cuts short, the other is as long as your life line.”

“Ooh,” I lean in, interested. “I think I know about the one that was cut short. Tell me about the second!”

“This second...” she traces my palm and I feel a tingle. “This second love is very close, a bit rocky but it will last.”

“A bit rocky?”

“Hm,” she chews her bottom lip. “Time, distance...it will make it rocky. But it lasts.”

“So how close is close?” I ask eagerly.

“Close,” she says with a smile that tells me I wasn’t getting anything else out of her.

“That’s a bit vague isn’t it?” Harry pipes up from the back.

“The future isn’t always crystal clear,” she says without looking up at him.

“Lay off,” I scold him.

“It’s okay, I get nonbelievers all the time.” She laughs. “That will be $10 dear.” When I hand her the bill she stops me as she takes it. “A little free advice?”

“Sure.” I pick up the bags I placed on the floor earlier.

"Don’t be so focused on the life you want that you don’t see the life you have around you.”

“I’ve actually told her that before,” Harry decides we want more of his unsolicited opinions. “Maybe there is something true to all of this.”

“Thanks,” I pocket her words for later. Harry was right, he’d said something along those lines to me before, especially when it came to giving up control and going with the flow on trips and events with him. I always declined his offers, we lived a modest life growing up and accepting these gifts from him always felt so excessive. I wanted to make my own way in the world, but Harry always had something to say. “And sorry for his attitude, he’s not always this rude.”

“Yeah,” Harry shifts forward. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m a lot nicer usually.”

“I know,” she smiles.

“She’s psychic,” I remind him.

“I’m also online,” she laughs. “Can I get a picture?”

Harry eyes me, before going in for a selfie with her. I know he usually didn’t mind getting asked in smaller settings but he’d admitted it was something he was still getting used to. It had been a couple years since he became so famous, in such a short amount of time I went from being able to go down to a local pub with my best friend to schedules and security details and a whole other list of complications. Sometimes I hated it, mostly I was happy for him.

“Another day, another fan.” I tell Harry after we walk away from the psychic and he flips me off. “Should we get something to eat and get out of the cold?”

“God yes,” Harry shivers. “Can we just go to yours?”

“Let’s go,” I loop my arm through Harry’s.

Harry wants instant warmth so he hails a cab and we pick up takeout once we reach my neighbourhood. Harry had been here a few times, my roommate had gotten used to the fact that I was best friends with him, and sometimes he preferred to stay here when he wanted to be anonymous. Paparazzi sometimes crowded outside his hotel when word leaked he was there.

We eat ourselves into a food coma and Harry decides to stay the night, not wanting to face the cold again. Since our living room couch sprained his neck the only time he’d slept there, he usually crashed in my bed. His head barely hits the pillow before he’s snoring, I guess the jet lag finally caught up.

***

I jerk out of sleep, a crashing noise followed by swearing catches my attention.

“I think your roommate dropped something,” I hear from beside me. I turn my face to get a facefull of Harry’s thigh tattoos.

“Y’think?” I croak and shift backwards to see his face. He’s sitting up in bed and scrolling through his phone.

“Guess which psychic is officially internet-famous?” Harry asks dryly.

“Hm?” I’m still calming my heart from waking up so suddenly so it takes a moment to register Harry’s words. “What?”

He shoves his phone in my face, the selfie he took with the psychic yesterday is posted on social media with over half a million likes. He swipes away and a lot of his tag is filled with news outlets and fan accounts spamming the picture. He pulls it back to read a heading: “Harry Styles visits Psychic for ideas on his next album. There’s also Harry Styles rumored to be connected to the Occult...I don’t know what that means. Psychic tells all on Harry Styles reading.”

“How did that picture circulate?” I rub my eyes and sit up beside him. “And where is all of this coming from?”

“She has a Twitter, and she posted the picture.” He shows me, it’s there with the caption A handsome face showed up to my booth at the Bryant Park Market tonight. Get your future told, 5pm to 9pm 7 days a week.

I can’t help but laugh, she was a business woman and she really took the opportunity to sell her service.

“It’s not funny Y/N,” Harry looks furious so I cover my mouth and squint at his screen as he scrolls. A ton of people are responding asking about his future or what he came there for. Amongst them, she responds to only one person: His love life was involved.

My jaw drops, “That’s such a lie! She read me my love life, and life lines!”

“I told you she was a fraud,” Harry jerks the phone back to him.

“She lied for sales, but doesn’t mean she didn’t tell the truth yesterday.”

“If she lied about this she lied about it all and you wasted $10. She only talked about your love life, not mine...”

I remember her words, my second love was very close...could she have meant...

I glance at Harry and he seemed to have followed the same train of thought because we lock eyes, his probably just as wide as mine.

“D’you think?” he says just as I say “Was she...?”

We immediately burst out laughing as the tension comes to a head and bubbles over in a safe trickle.

“Is that what she was trying to say?” I say when I’ve finally caught my breath, my stomach hurt from laughing this hard.

“I guess when she said close she meant close,” Harry’s flat on his back from laughing. “Quite literal.”

“And you were calling her out on being so vague.”

“I’ve got to give it to her,” he shuts his phone off and throws it onto the covers between us, releasing the annoyance. “She’s a good businesswoman.”

“I was thinking the same thing but I thought you might kill me if I said that,” I admit.

We lay on the rumpled covers in silence, I think about everything else she said. The potential of it all is tarnished by the idea of Harry being my second love, for life. It was so ridiculous, unless by love she meant the way I love him now. As my best friend. Our lives were so different, there was no way it could ever work. Not to mention...he was my best friend since forever.

“Have you ever thought about it?” Harry asks out of the blue.

“Thought about what?” I prop myself on my elbow.

“Us, like...the way she predicted?”

“Together together?” I can’t help but laugh. “No never, you’re my best friend!” I recognize the flash of hurt so I backtrack a little. “No offense Harry, I love you but could you imagine?”

“I have,” he says it so quietly as I lay back down. “What?” I ask. He shrugs, “I’m surprised you haven’t. We’ve been friends since...we were 7. You’re saying you never thought about it?”

“No,” I shake my head. “Actually I haven’t. When...what did you think about?”

“I dunno,” he fiddles with his rings. “Like for school dances, when I didn’t have a date I thought about asking you as more than a friend...thought about where that could lead. Or every time you had your heart broke. I wanted to take the pain away and just show you what you deserved.”

“Harry I...” it was sweet, what he was saying. But he never gave a single clue about it the entire time we grew up. He was always chasing girls who looked nothing like me, so I always thought that’s what his type was. Never did I think about anything more with him.

“Not-not recently though,” he forces a laugh. “Just when we were kids.”

“That’s sweet Harry. I had no idea.”

He shrugs, and sits up.

“No seriously I...that’s so sweet. But just so you know, you have shown me what a good man can be. Just by being the best friend ever.”

“Aw,” he swipes my cheek as he gets up. “That’s cute. I don’t know if I’ve done such a good job when you’ve only dated knobs.”

I could recognize his defense mechanism--turning it into a big joke. But he leaves the room before I can call him out and I’m left sitting in the mess of what he’d just told me. It’s not that it was awkward or a bad thing, but suddenly it felt tense and the tension triggered an anxious feeling in my chest.

I decide to get out of my room and find my roommate cleaning up the remains of her broken mug. I offer to clean the spill as she dresses to go out for her run. Helping her distracts me, and when I hear Harry leave the bathroom I lock myself in, and try some breathing exercises to clear the anxiety creeping up. When I realize I was trying to avoid Harry, I scold myself. This was ridiculous and funny! Harry wanted to ask me out when we were kids, it was cute, and that was it. The psychic was a fake anyway, nothing she said meant anything.

I head back to my room where Harry’s made the bed. I change into trousers and my favourite fisherman sweater, and find him having coffee at our small kitchen table with his phone on speaker as he talks to someone. His legs barely fit underneath, so they’re sprawled to the side. He’s still shirtless, and my attention snags on his torso.

I shake myself out of my thoughts as I bump into the kitchen island, and glance up to see that although he was talking to the person on the phone, his eyes had been on me...while my eyes were on his abs. Oh god, I cringe. I try to act casual, mouthing if he wanted breakfast but he shakes his head and points to the call he’s having.

I make myself a toast and try to ignore what just happened but it only adds to the tension from this morning. When he gets off his call he brings his cup up to the sink.

“I think I need another cup.”

“Be my guest,” I move aside. “You sure you don’t want breakfast?”

“Are you going to feed me avocado flax seed quinoa toast?” he teases.

“There’s no quinoa.” I correct, crossing my arms. “But...yes.”

“I’ll take this banana,” he holds the lone banana on the counter. “I’ve got to be in East Harlem by noon, that’s what the call was about.”

“Aw,” I hated saying goodbye. “Are you busy the rest of your stay?”

“I can make it back here,” he says.

“Do whatever you need to do,” I say. “I’m used to being discarded after you hang out with me in the city.”

“I don’t do that!” he reaches behind me to slot his cup in and set the machine to grind his beans. I can smell my shampoo on him, he must’ve showered. “If you want me back, you can just say that.”

The morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen window leaves no room for shadows; the shift in the mood is clear as the daylight streaming in. Or maybe I was reading too much into his words.

“I always want you back,” I look up to his height now that he’s standing so close, and the kitchen tightens further.

We’re stuck in a tableau; with my back against the fridge looking up at him as he gazes down with a curious expression. My mind grows blank the longer I stare. No one says a word, the sound of beans grinding the only noise in the kitchen.

My best friend in the whole world looks torn standing in front of me like this, and as my senses slowly rush back I realize that even if my expression doesn’t show it...I was torn. Because out of nowhere, all I can think about are all the questions I ever shoved away in the dark: what would it feel like if I kissed him right now? And what would have happened to us if he had asked me out to our school dance? Would we still be best friends? Would we have cut each other out? How many universes were we still good together like this? How many universes were we good together as more than this?

An urge to touch his face, make sure this was real, takes over me. But as soon as my fingers brush his cheek he snaps out of his trance and stumbles back like I’d burned him.

He forces a laugh. “I really do need that coffee.”

“Right,” I turn to the machine to put the grinds into their slot but I yank too hard and the freshly ground coffee flies out towards me. “Shit!”

“What happ-” Harry takes one look at what’s happened and turns away, his shoulders shaking.

“I can see you right in front of me laughing!” I shout. “Help me!”

“It’s all over you Y/N,” he turns around, tears in his eyes. “Give me this, I’ll put it far away from you.” He takes the remaining grinds and sets it down. I brush away what’s closest to my eyes so I can see and try to shake it off my sweater but they stick to the fibers of the knit.

“Great,” I grumble. “This is dry clean only.”

“It’s in your hair,” he runs his fingers through the strands that hang over my shoulder. I shake my head to dislodge the grinds; his fingers brush my neck away and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Uhm, that should be most of it.”

“It’s not out of this sweater,” I pout. “Screw dry clean, why did I think I could buy dry cleaning clothes?”

“I can drop it off on the way out today?” he offers.

“That means you’re coming back to drop it off to me?!” I ask hopefully.

His expression softens, “Y/N I’m coming back to your flat. I promise.”

“He promises!” I shout. Even though things were a bit awkward this morning, I got to spend more time with my hard-to-catch best friend and for that I was over the moon.

“We could also try to vacuum the sweater?” Harry suggests.

“So you don’t have to come back with dry clean?” I tease. “I’m not letting you get out of your promise, let me give it to you before you change your mind.” I tug my top off and ball it up, shoving it in his hands. It falls to the floor when he doesn’t hold it.

“Hello?” I look up and he’s a deer in the headlights. “Harry...”

“I can’t do this right now,” he takes a step back. I get the sweater from the ground and hold it out to him again.

“Do you want to wipe the kitchen floor with the sweater too? Take it!” I sigh. “Harry are you really acting so chaste about seeing a girl in her bra?”

“It’s-” he decides to stop mid-word. “You’re not just any girl Y/N, I’ve already made it clear.”

Now it’s my turn to stare--he hadn’t made it clear. “You said you only felt something when you were younger...”

“And you believed me?”

I realize I didn’t, but I wanted to believe him so I hadn’t questioned it. “Well it’s not the first time you’ve seen me in a bra. Can you take the damn sweater?” 

“Yeah I can I’m just...” he seems to calm down a bit, enough to step towards me and take it. “I didn’t have to face this conflicted feeling in me if I didn’t see you often. I can just be the best friend. But now, with the whole psychic thing and you in--like this in your kitchen and I--I’m remembering how much I just want to...”

“Kiss me,” I say.

“Yeah...” he looks away.

“No, I’m telling you to kiss me.” I clarify. His expression would’ve made me laugh if my heart wasn’t beating so fast. I couldn’t believe I was being this impulsive.

“Really? You’re not just saying that cuz of this morning?”

“Fine,” I step out of his reach and cross my arms to hide my shaking hands. “If you don’t want to kiss me-”

He pulls me back too quickly and I bump into his chest. “I never said that.” He says in a tone I’d never heard from him before, it’s serious and sexy and it sends tingles through my body. I press myself up against him and he finally, finally, kisses me. Every bit of tension and anxiety the day had built up releases in the single moment his lips cover mine.

How had I waited this long?

The kiss is gentle, delicate like he’s still not entirely sure I want the same thing he does. I show him I do by using my tongue to open his mouth slowly and the hesitation disappears immediately. We’re a fighter jet taking off from there; I don’t know where I end and where he begins as he walks me to the kitchen island and lifts me onto it, our limbs tangling together, His hands roam down the side of my body, but he stays in the safe zones until I unclasp my bra.

“Oh hell no,” my roommate’s voice interrupts us from behind. I hold my bra close and turn. She stands at the entryway, shaking her head. “Not here. Not on our kitchen island. You two have a room literally 10 feet away...”

“Oops,” I say quietly which seems to set Harry off. My roommate is still shaking her head but I see the smile on her face. I’d caught her hooking up on multiple occasions so it wasn’t anything new. But I didn’t do this often. I jump down, apologizing to her. “Harry’s going to clean the coffee off the floor...I-I’ll find a shirt.”

“Mhm,” she closes her bedroom door and I look over at Harry who’s crouching on the floor in tears.

“This is all your fault!” I whisper but he tugs me down to where he is and holds my face as he kisses me.

“I know you two aren’t behind the island,” my roommate’s voice comes out again. I stay there as her footsteps move to the bathroom and the door closes behind her.

“I hate you,” I skirt out of his reach, and rush to my room yelling another sorry as I head back and find a top. Harry appears in my room as I put it on.

“I guess that was a good time for her to walk in on before it got too far?” he still has a stupid grin on his face.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” my cheeks were burning and even more so that Harry was elated.

“I’ve actually got to head out now.”

I pout but he kisses my pout instead. He promises he’ll be back in the evening and I let him go with one more kiss, my mind catching up with everything that just happened.

Oh my god.

***

It’s nearly 8 by the time I’m done running all my errands--taking holidays off for work was usually a good decision for me. I had a big family and picking up all the holiday bits before I flew back home was always a big job. I take an Uber home, I couldn’t handle a 40 minutes trip back home carrying everything home on the subway.

I call out to my roommate when I get in but she doesn’t respond. I check her door and it’s open and dark, the bathroom is also empty. She must have evening plans.

I open my door to a surprise. Harry is sprawled on my bed. He jerks awake when I settle my bags down.

“Y/N?” he squints as I turn the light on.

“How did you get in here?” I shrug my coat off.

“Y’roommate let me in before she left,” he rubs his eyes. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep...I had a whole thing planned.”

I’d gone over the whole morning during my errands, surprised and excited and nervous about this new step for us. But I continued to think about what the psychic said, our love lines extended alongside my life line. Even though there wasn’t much comfort or trust in a psychic who used a photo opp as a marketing opp, what she said had come true. And I put my faith in that, calming my nerves about this new step potentially ruining our friendship forever.

“Was that okay?” Harry sits up. “She didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Oh no that’s fine,” I unwrap my scarf and stand at the foot of my bed. “I really wasn’t sure if you were coming back.”

“Of course I would,” he reaches for my hand. “I wouldn’t leave you after this morning, I’m not that flighty.”

“Well we never really got to talk about it,” I say as I sit down. I’d texted him during the day but it never showed he read it, I wasn’t sure how to read into that; finding him passed out on my room meant he was probably on the go all day.

“Are you okay with this?” he says with such concern, I nearly tear up. This was making me way too emotional.

“I am,” I smile at my best friend in the whole world. “I just don’t want to go too fast.”

“We won’t,” he promises as he holds his arms out. I lean in towards his solid chest and he wraps his arms around me. I feel his breath on my cheek, then his lips in my hair. “I’m yours for eternity Y/N, we can take it as slow or fast as you want.”

It was a good thing to say, and I believe him entirely.

We eventually untangle ourselves to get food in us, and even though things are different, they’re also not. We still pick out the same parts of our food to give the other person, we still talk the same shit and laugh at the same jokes. But his hands grasps mine and his thumb brushes over my knuckles absentmindedly. His eyes stay steady on me as I talk like I’m someone new he’s exploring. We kiss after dinner, but we also load the dishwasher and laugh about the one time I’d managed to burn soup from a can. Eventually we end in my bedroom, where we lay together, our conversation growing quieter by the minute, the space between us growing smaller.

And even though we’d slept like this a hundred times before, it’s different now. I can feel it in every atom of my being, I was his and he was mine. And I don’t know how long it’s been like this for it to feel so easy, but accepting it was a no brainer, like accepting the sky was blue or the sun was hot. I remember the advice the psychic gave, I was following it: living the life I had around me even though it wasn’t the life I thought I would have.

There were a million things Harry and I had to figure out to make this work--I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But I did know that it was right, it was true, and it was going to be forever.

The future may not be crystal clear, but my future with this man was.

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

.-

FROM THIS LIST  |  Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

.-

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage  at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face. 

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk. 

It’s a decade and a half later—  as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least,  to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly,  searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand. 

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of  the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice. 

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

.-

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors. 

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even. 

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

.-

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

.-

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital. 

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin. 

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?” 

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped. 

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

~Buy Me A Coffee 

[fandom-puff]

Manhunt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Requested by: anon ‘Hey, I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a Tommy Shelby fic where y/n gets kidnapped, please? Maybe Tommy’s getting extremely angry and worried and only calms down when he gets her back. Of course it’s up to you. Female reader if possible. Thank you so much :)’

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, swearing, injury (result of knife, beatings)

Bold italics = flashback

Gif creds to owner

“Where the fuck’ve you been?” Polly demanded from her desk, arms folded and lips pursed as Tommy stumbled through the door.

“Ah, let him be, Pol,” Arthur grinned, clapping him on the back. “Reckon his head’s still on his honeymoon. Been stuck in bed with the missus all morning, eh, brother?”

Tommy smirked boyishly. “No. Fuckin’ car broke down. Anyway, YN left ours hours ago, said she was seeing Ada before she buggers back off to London,”

At that moment, Ada walked through the door, holding one of John and Esme’s kids on her hip, bouncing him gently. “I haven’t seen YN today, Tom. Didn’t show up to our reservation in that nice cafe. Haven’t heard from her, so I just thought she was with you,”

Tommy frowned deeply. “But... she left at half eight to catch the bus. I told her I’d give her a lift but she said she needed to run a few errands before she met up with you,” he checked his pocket watch quickly. “It’s gone noon. Are you lot sure you haven’t heard from or seen her?”

“Tom, it’s fine, she’s probably just caught up in the shops or something,” John said, lighting a cigarette.

“No. It’s not fucking fine, Johnboy. She left at half eight this morning, stood Ada up in her favourite cafe- and she’s been going on about it for weeks- and no one has seen hide nor hair of her for hours. Something’s wrong,”

Jaw set harshly, Tommy strode out of the betting shop, closely followed by his brothers. “Oi! Finn. Run and tell Sergeant Moss that I said to have a search party out. Tell him YN’s missing. Then on your way back, go to Charlie’s yard and tell him to keep an eye on the canals for her, alright. Good lad,” Finn nodded and began to run as fast as his legs would carry him.

“What about us, Tommy?” Arthur said. “Tell us what to do,”

***

Slowly, your eyes opened, though you still couldn’t see anything- a length of fabric covered your eyes, blocking out all light. Every inch of your body ached, and you became vaguely aware of the stinging sensation at your wrists- they were bound behind your back, the tightly knitted rope rubbing your skin raw. Judging by the slight jostling movement of your body and the hum of an engine below you, you were in a vehicle, being driven god knows where.

Deciding to keep quiet, you took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, trying your hardest to recall the previous hours...

***

“I’ll see you later, Tom,” you smiled, giving your grinning husband a final kiss goodbye before setting off to the bus stop. Tommy had offered you a lift, but you declined, saying something about errands and scenery. It was an alright day, by British standards, the sun trying its hardest to peak through the thin clouds.

You were halfway to the bus stop when you felt a presence behind you. Hurrying your steps a little more, knowing the old gentleman from the village would likely be at the stop for his weekly shop, if you could just get around this bend, you dared a look behind you, before colliding head on with something- or rather someone.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” you said, making to step around him, but his arms shot out, grasping onto you while the man behind you yanked a fistful of your hair, tugging your head backwards.

“Don’t you worry, Shelby,” he said, a slight accent lacing his low voice. “You will be,”

You tried to stamp your heels down on the attackers’ shins, you made to bite the hands closest to your face, to wriggle as much as you could. As you began to scream, a damp cloth was held over your nose and mouth, making your eyes roll back and your body slacken, allowing the two men to drag you to their vehicle, hidden by the shrubbery and blossoming trees and the loud caws of the birds.

***

Tommy was in full panic mode. He had Peaky Blinders scouring the whole of Birmingham, Sergeant Moss had managed to telephone the London police and have a telegram sent to every constabulary in the country to keep an eye out. Johnny Doggs had the Lee boys out, and Charlie was stopping every boat the passed through the cut.

Tommy kicked the table in the betting shop, sending papers and coins flying. “Where the fuck is she?” He roared, eyes flashing with some anger, but mostly fear.

“We’re doing everything we can, Thomas,” Polly said firmly, patting her nephews back and pushing a cup of tea into his hands. “It’s well sugared. You need the energy,”

“It’s not fucking enough!” He yelled, taking one sip of the tea before slamming the cup down, sloshing the table. “She could be anywhere and we’re sat here like idiots!”

Polly sighed, retreating to man the phone, waiting for someone, anyone to phone with knowledge of your whereabouts.

“It’ll be alright, brother,” John said. “Esme’s down with the Lees making sure none of them are sat twiddling their thumbs. Moss has every copper in Birmingham on the case. Even the London coppers are looking for a Shelby, and their almost all under Solomons and Sabini,”

Tommy was quiet for a moment before he looked between his brothers. “Solomons and Sabini...” he said slowly, processing the information before his face hardened.

“Solomons is a mad bastard,” Arthur said quietly.

“Right. Car, now. We’re going to London,”

***

The blind fold was removed, but you still couldn’t see much. One of your eyes was swollen shut, and the room you were in was plunged in almost complete darkness. Your hands were still tied, only now they (along with your ankles) were bound to a chair. You tried to shuffle the chair along, but it made a loud grating scraping noise, and caused a blinding pain to shoot through your nerves. Something was definitely broken.

“Shelby,”

The voices echoed around the room as you heard the men draw closer, their footsteps rapping sharply against the concrete ground. You strained your good eye, trying to make out their faces, but you could only make out vague face shapes, plunged in shadows.

“I told you, I don’t have any information!” You said urgently, preparing yourself for another punch or kick.

It didn’t come. Instead you felt the cold edge of a thin blade pressing against your swollen cheek. He dragged the blade slowly and you hissed as your cheek bloomed with stinging pain, feeling your hot blood trickle down your face and neck.

“We don’t want information,” the other man said lowly as you felt the tip of the knife press against your neck briefly. You held your breath, preparing for the worst, before the blade dropped. You let out a shaky breath of relief, which quickly turned into a groan of pain as a thick finger dragged along the fresh wound. “We don’t need one of Shelby’s whores for information,” you shut your eyes tightly, willing your tears not to fall. “We want to destroy Tommy Shelby,”

***

“Thomas! Thomas! Stop the fucking car now!”

The car squealed to a halt and Tommy almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. “This had better be good, Pol,” he growled, grabbing hold of the phone. “Speaking,”

“That you, Tommy?”

Tommy gritted his teeth. “Aye, Solomons. Make it quick. I’ve no time for business now,”

“Yeah, I know, right. Right fuckin’ fuss you’ve kicked up, yeah. Looking for that wife of yours, I heard. Well, Tommy, my coppers have been out and about , right, searchin’ high and fuckin’ low. Found nothin’ right,”

“Alfie,” tommy hissed. “I’m on my way down to London, now. If you’ve got no information, I don’t wanna hear any of your fuckin’ stories, alright?”

“Oi, you watch your tone, Tommy. I’m getting there. See now, Ollie’s missus’s got a friend whose friend is the wife of a fuckin’ wop, right. She says, right, that your wife, YN, had been on Sabini’s fuckin’ hit list from the very start. He’s got his coppers trying to dismiss this ever so mysterious disappearance, right. But my coppers, yeah, Tommy, you followin’?”

“I’m following,” tommy said through gritted teeth.

“Right, well my coppers have received a tip off from one of Sabini’s coppers that there’s some funny business going on in the old abandoned warehouse, you know the one, the one up in Cheltenham, what the anarchists set fire to,”

“You sure, Alfie?”

“Course I’m fuckin’ sure. Off you go, Tommy,”

***

How long you had been on the floor for, you had no idea. Your arms and legs were no longer bound- not that it made any difference. You couldn’t move without a fresh round of pain turning your stomach. Tears mixed with blood on your cheeks; you could barely keep your eyes open; you lay next to a pool of your own vomit due to the pain; your clothes were soaking with your own blood and urine; you were ready to die.

***

Gunshots. Three of them.

Three voices shouting, although you couldn’t distinguish what they were saying.

The door swung open, flooding the room with light. You made to lift your head up off the floor, but sobbed in agony.

“Fuckin’ hell!”

“YN, it’s alright, I’m here! They’re gone, I’ve got you,”

You felt the familiar warm hands on your body, the strong arms lifting you, the distinct smell. But you couldn’t open your eyes- you were simply too tired.

“Tommy...” you breathed, one hand bunched up in his coat.

“Shhh, I’m here, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you help, okay, my love. Don’t you worry one bit, okay?”

You nodded, trusting your eyes to shut, knowing that this time, tommy would be there to shake you awake, preventing you from giving into the darkness.

[bohemianrhvps]

Mon amour, puisque tu m'aimes. - G.W.

Summary: George and Fred barely fight but when it happens they might not talk to each other’s for days. After a big fight, George stormed out of the shop and went to muggle London for a walk to calm his nerves. He found himself in one of those old vintage cafes and as he was sitting outside he spot a little flower shop across the street, playing some vintage french songs then he saw her and his heart started trembling.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, modern!George and muggle!reader.

note: I love Edith Piaf and vintage songs with all my heart and lately I can’t stop to listen “Hymn à l’amour” by Edith Piaf. Physically the reader is based on me (hope that’s not a big deal). I had this idea because I think that George would definitely fall for a muggle, he finds them fascinating just like his father.

‘How dare he say something like that? How dare Fred tell me that my job is not enough and I need to focus more?’

George was furious, he and his brother Fred just had one of their biggest fight ever. He stormed of the shop that he and his brother owned leaving a furious Fred and a confused Ron behind him. He went straight to the Leaky Cauldron and entered muggle London crowded streets. It was early evening and almost everyone was going home after a long day at work.

He decided to calm down his nerves and take a walk around London’s little alleys. His mind was full of thoughts, he was thinking about the words he and his twin brother said to each other’s, angry words that it doesn’t matter that they were said impulsively they still hurt.

After a while he found himself in a little street, less crowded, one of those roads that seemed like those roads in small country villages. A little vintage cafes caught his eyes and he decided that he needed a coffee, even if he didn’t enjoyed his flavour. After ordering, paying and picked up his coffee, he went out to sit in one of those two-seater tables outside the cafes.

Vintage french musics draw his attention, making him stand up and look around trying to figure out where it came from. His eyes landed on this little flower shop on the street corner so he crossed the street and walk towards it. He was never a big fan of Herbology at Hogwarts or plants in general but he was fascinated by these plants, he also saw lemon trees and they were so yellow and so beautiful and their smell was magnificent and he wondered how could they be so beautiful, they were simple and common plants but they were the most beautiful he had ever seen.

Y/n was watering the tulips inside her little shop, humming that old french song that she put in her “oldies” playlist when she spotted this tall red haired man outside her shop, looking at her plants almost suspiciously and she wondered what he was thinking about.

“Did you know that talking to plants makes them grow better?” she calmly said leaning on the front door, still holding the watering can with both hands.

“Is that the secret to having such beautiful plants?” George said turning fully around.

When they met each other’s eyes they remained silent for a couple of minutes. She was mesmerised by his features, he was indeed handsome and his hair was a fiery shade of orange. On the other hand he was mesmerised by her looks, he found her particular, almost weird but she was absolutely dazzling. She had short brown hair, her haircut right under the ear, that perfectly framed her round face. She was wearing a white flannel shirt and a pair of beige flannel pants and the first buttons of her shirt were open. She was at least one foot lower than George, she wasn’t skinny, her waist was slightly narrower than her hips that widened, highlighting her fleshy thighs. And George, being the thighs man he is, had to refrain from staring too long. She was so simple yet so particular and captivating.

“So you like my plants, ay?” she said smiling and putting the watering can on the side.

“I’m not a big fan of flowers and plants but I have to admit that your plants look very tempting.”

‘You are very temping. No wait- George what the heck. Calm down your hormones, mate’ he mentally cursed himself for thinking such things about her.

“If my plants are tempting let me show you something then.” She laughed and went inside her shop, shouting a muffled “Come in” waiting for him to follow her. After having rummaged among the various plants she came back to George with a little succulent in her hands.

“This is a little Echeveria elegans, which is a succulent plant.” she smiled placing the plant on the counter.

George found himself entering the shop and looking around it, it was much smaller than his but it was lovely, full of colours and aromas. He looked at the plant she brought with her and raised his eyebrows, wondering why she took that plant.

“I want to give you this plant.” Her smile was so big that he sweared her skin was going to break. He panicked because he didn’t know how to pay that plant sure he had money with him but muggle money is different from Galleons. He opened his jacket to get his wallet but her hand stopped him.

“No, it’s a gift.” her hand was still on his forearm and he couldn’t help but smile at the contact.

“Forgive my rudeness for not introducing myself sooner but I’m (y/n).” her hand stretched out waiting for George to hold it.

“I’m George and it’s very nice meeting you.” he smiled softly at her, making her blush. She couldn’t help but think about how handsome and charming he was.

“You’re new around here, right? I’ve never seen your face before.” and what a beautiful face she may add.

“No actually I found myself in this street after a long walk and had a coffee in that lovely cafes I want to add that I think I’m going back because that coffe was amazing and I usually don’t drink or like coffe. Anyway I own a shop with my twin brother.” he was babbling but Oh Merlin she made him so nervous.

“Oh yeah? And where is this shop?” the way her brow frowned over in curiosity was adorable.

“Oh it’s across town actually, yeah” his initial enthusiasm had now disappeared.

George looked at his watch and realised that it was almost dinner time and tonight he was supposed to cook for him and Fred.

“I’m sorry but I really need to go now, I guess I’ll see you around then.” he said making his way out of the shop.

“I’ll wait for you to come back here again then.” she smiled at him. The sunset made the whole situation looking like one of those romantic muggle movies his parents made him watch.

He waved his hand at her and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron with the biggest smile on his face and this little plant on his huge hands, he felt like Neville back in Hogwarts.

*The next day*

“Good morning Dear (Y/n)”

“Good morning Margaret”

“Oh you’re wearing a dress and you’re in a good mood today. The usual, love?” (Y/n) simply laughed at the old and lovely woman that owned the cafe and nodded at her question.

“Can I ask you something?” she said sipping her hot cappuccino.

“Anything dear” Margaret smiled at her.

“Did a tall red-haired guy come in here yesterday?” she tried not to look very hopeful.

“How could I forget him? He had this fiery red hair, this purple suit and he was so tall. Is he your boyfriend?” same old nosey Margaret.

“What? No no” she blushed laughing nervously.

“Oh, okay then.” Margaret simply shrugged.

“If he comes again I offer everything he orders.” she smiled and hurried to open her flower shop.

**

“I don’t know why but she was capable of making me nervous. Me? George Fabian Weasley nervous in front of a girl? She’s beautiful though, very particular may I add. Anyway I’ll probably visit her again tod-“

“George who the fuck are you talking to?” Fred came out of his room hearing George talking to a plant?

“Oh Fred ehm nothing, I mean no one” he laughed nervously scratching his neck.

“Do you remember that we have lunch at the Burrow right? Ron and Hermione wants to tell us something.” Fred began to have breakfast as if nothing had happened.

“Alright but I have to go now” George rushed down the stairs, making his way to (Y/n)’s flower shop.

He stopped at the cafes and just as he was about to pay, Margaret stopped him.

“(Y/n) offers” she winked at him. His brows furred but he cracked a smile.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“George” he said before leaving the cafes and run towards her shop.

While he was sipping his coffe, he stayed outside waiting for her clients to leave but admiring her. She was radiant today, she was wearing a yellow long flower dress, with long sleeves balloon and she curled her hair a bit. ‘How cool, they seem shorter’ he thought.

“You know you didn’t have to, right?” he said raising his coffee as soon she was alone in the shop.

“I know, but I wanted to.” everything about her was simply adorable.

He looked around and he found these beautiful and aromatic lilies.

“Just her favourites.” he whispered to himself but (Y/n) heard that and she felt her heart clenched a bit and she didn’t know why.

“Can I have a few of these?” he turned her way.

She took the lilies and made a lovely bouquet, she didn’t want to be nosey but..

“Are these for your girlfriend?” she said tying the boquet with a pink ribbon.

“My girlfr- no no, these are for my mom.” he answered almost too quickly. “We have a family lunch, my brother and his wife want to tell us something. I’m wondering what it is.” again he was babbling and tell her things that she probably didn’t want to hear.

“Maybe she’s pregnant, I don’t know.” she answered giggling. He was going to pay but again she stopped him, shaking her head with a simple smile.

“Let me know if your mum liked them.” she waved her hand and again George found himself with the biggest smile of his face.

**

“Merlin’s beard George, they’re beautiful.” Molly was thrilled when she saw the lilies. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers.. never saw it in Diagon Alley, is it a new shop?”

“Actually mom it’s a shop in muggle London, yeah.” he scratched the back of his neck, blushing a little.

“And tell me, what's she like? Big tits? Big ass?” Fred whispered pushing his shoulder a bit.

“Big tit- Fred what the hell?” he scolded at his twin brother.

“Boys behave we have an announcement!” Ron said clapping his hands drawing everybody’s attention on him and Hermione.

“I’m pregnant.” Hermione said with a big smile on her face.

“(Y/n), how did you know..” George whispered to himself while clapping his hands at the happy couple.

“Were you talking to me?” asked Fred smirking, acting like he didn’t heard George’s exact words.

**

It was Monday morning and it was also (Y/n)’s day off so she decided to walk around London and look for George’s shop, she wanted to surprise him. It took her almost the whole morning but she hadn’t seen his shop, he told her that outside his shop there were a huge statue that looked like him so it was impossible to miss. It was around noon and she decided to go visit her grandmother and her flower shop. The only thing was that her grandmother was a witch and her flower shop was in Diagon Alley so she made her way through the Leaky Cauldron and entered Diagon Alley. It has been a while since she was in the wizard world but she knew exactly how to act. Just around the corner she spotted an unfamiliar shop.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

The moment she saw the statue she instantly froze. She recognised it and the shop was exactly like George described it. She decided to enter and look around.

The inside of the shop was simply beautiful, so full of colours and people and she was simply enchanted. She spotted a familiar tall ginger man and she made her way to him.

“George?” she tapped his shoulder.

“Wrong one, love. I’m Fred.” he said turning around to greet her. She smiled at him as she instantly recognised him as George’s twin brother.

“And you are?” he raised his eyebrows.

“(Y/n), I’m (Y/n).” she reached out to him.

“Oooh” Fred said with a cheeky grin. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers, right?” he squeezed her hand.

“Oì, stop flirting with our costumers and come to h-“ he froze. He was panicking when he saw her. And now what? What is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to say?

“(Y/n) hi, w-what are you doing here?” his palms were sweating so hard he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Your shop is literally magical.” she ignored his questions as she giggled looking around George’s shop. “My grandmother is a witch, she owns a flower shop here in Diagon Alley, so here I am.” she said raising her hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” he was really sorry because he really like her, he didn’t know if he liked her as a friend or more but he sure enjoyed her company.

“Oh it’s okay, I can imagine it’s not easy telling someone you’re a wizard” her laugh was lovely.

“So, can I have the honor of showing you around the store?” he asked her extending his arm which she gladly accepted.

“Y/n guess what... Hermione’s pregnant.” he said super excited.

“I told you!” she said jumping a little making George smile like a five years old.

George turned around to his brother who was looking at them smiling. Fred knew his brother and he knew that George fell for her, even before George himself knew that.

note: I’m thinking of making this a mini series, divide it into three maybe four parts (reader meeting the Weasleys and maybe add some smut lol). Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to continue it.