midnightwritingsessions

[midnightwritingsessions]

I Hate It Here | J.P.

feat James Potter x animagus!reader

SUMMARY: As a bat animagus, you're used to spending time alone: a creature of the night that prefers quiet solitude over the bustle of Hogwarts life. But when one James Potter charges into your life, you start to wonder why you hated daylight so much in the first place.

CW: MDNI 18+, FLUFFFF (James is down so bad), multi-pov, injuries and blood, shy!reader, protective!James, fighting and mentions of reader being bullied, light angst, HEA

AN: bats and deer are known to be close collaborators in the wild, with bats helping keep insects away from the deer, and the deer making it easy for the bats to find food. inspired by “I Hate It Here” from Taylor Swift’s album The Tortured Poets Department.

masterlist

James’ POV

“Pads, what the fuck!” James shifted back into his human form, scrambling to drag Padfoot out of the massive blackberry bushes he’d launched himself into. The run had been quiet, almost peaceful, just the two of them out for a moonlight romp to blow off some steam from the day.

Then, of course, Sirius buggered that right up.

Padfoot yipped and whined, the thorns pulling at his onyx fur, and flopped onto the ground beside it with a dramatic grunt. He quickly shifted back into a disgruntled Sirius, checking over himself for injuries.

“I didn’t know they were like…pointy!” Sirius huffed, relaxing when he realized he only had a few shallow scrapes. “Just wanted a fucking snack—”

“Of course they are—what is that?” A high-pitched clicking sound interrupted them. James crouched down, peering into the thicket of brambles and ripe, midnight purple fruit.

Something tiny and velveteen was trembling in a knot of thorns, it’s squeaks of discomfort barely audible. A wing fluttered out, delicate and leathery, a bead of carmine dripping from a hole pierced clean through the taught flesh.

A wee bat was caught in the brambles.

“Shit,” James cursed, tugging his sweatshirt sleeve down over his hand and shoving his arm socket-deep into the loathsome bush.

“What are you—”

“It’s alright, I’ve got ya’—please don’t bite me, please don’t bite me.” James wrapped his hand as gently as he could around the little bat’s body, feeling it’s heart fluttering rapidly in it’s chest. “Okay, there we go. I’m just gonna—fuck, ow, sodding thorns.” James brought the critter out as carefully as he could, making a concerted effort to keep his fist lax despite the thorns snagging his sleeve and jabbing into his forearm.

Once he had it completely removed from the bush, he slowly uncurled his fingers. The bat lurched upwards, flapping it’s tattered wings once, twice, then plummeted. James dove forward, catching the little thing just before it crashed to the ground, and cradled it safely back to his chest.

“Is that a bat?” Sirius asked, stepping closer.

“Must’ve been eating some fruit,” James muttered to himself, peeking open his fingers to peer at it. It blinked at him, eyes wide and dark as obsidian, the grayish fur of it’s snout stained with blackberry juice. It was trembling terribly, heart going a million miles a minute, and James knew he couldn't just leave it here.

Sirius looked stricken. “Shit, I’m sorry, mate.” he stroked a finger across the wing draped over James’ knuckles and the bat writhed in his hand, clicking disdainfully.

“Should we take it to Hagrid?” James asked, wincing when it’s thumb claw scratched across his inner wrist, uselessly trying to flap the injured appendage. Poor little thing.

“Poppy, probably. Hagrid’ll squish it.”

“Good point. Grab my scarf, will ya’?” Sirius tossed him his scarf from their belongings and James wrapped it as best he could around the creature, effectively immobilizing it, tiny head poking out from the top of the bundle.

“S’kinda cute,” Sirius said, leaning closer.

The bat loosed a vicious hiss, and he recoiled.

“Nevermind, christ.”

As quickly as they could, they hurried to the infirmary, the swaddled bat tucked into the crook of his arm, pressed against his chest.

“Boys! What one earth—” Madam Pomfry rushed to greet them at the door, probably expecting the worst given their history. “What’s that?”

“It got caught in a blackberry bush, tore up it’s wings…” he carefully unfolded the blanket, expecting the bat to try and fly away again, but it seemed to have exhausted itself, lying limply in his hands, breathing hard.

“Oh, dear,” Madam Pomfry tutted, taking the bat from him and setting it onto an examination table. “You poor thing.”

“It’s actually a bat,” Sirius joked, and she swatted him as she rushed past to grab some supplies.

“Have you nothing better to do?” Madam Pomfry bit, returning with a tincture and some stitching supplies.

“You know what, Poppy, I actually do. C’mon James, I bet the kitchens still open—”

“I’m going to stay—if that’s alright,” he said, glancing at Madam Pomfry. “Just to make sure it’s okay.”

“Suit yourself. Stay gorgeous, Pop!” Sirius blew her a kiss before making a swift exit.

Madam Pomfry began cleaning the scratches and tears along it’s wings and soft belly, and James was shocked to see how docile the bat had become. Relaxed even when Madam Pomfry lifted it into her hand to place a clean towel underneath it.

It was rather cute, almost puppy-like as it blinked up at him, nose twitching from the strong scent of the tincture, ears flicking this way and that.

“Dearie, I think it would be best if you changed back,” Madam Pomfry said gently, stroking the bats head.

James looked down at himself, confused. “To a deer?”

Suddenly, there was a flash of magic, one James knew all too well, and then there was a girl sitting where the bat was moments before, his scarf draped around her neck.

He reared back, stunned that not only was the bat an animagus, but an animagus he knew.

“Y/n?” He gawked, and you rolled your eyes.

“Potter,” you replied.

“You-you’re—you’re a bat?”

“And you’re a genius.”

He blinked at you, completely dumbfounded. A bat tracked, he supposed. You were quiet, a loner. He couldn’t remember ever seeing you with more than a friend or two, and you’d never attended a party. Really, he only ever saw you in his afternoon Charms class and in the library in the evenings. You hardly ever spoke, wrapped up in your own world.

He always had the distinct impression that you hated people, and now, staring down the barrel of your glare, he was certain of it. But saints, you were gorgeous. Death glare and all.

It then occurred to him that he’d had his entire hand wrapped around you not even ten minutes prior, and went hot under his collar.

James couldn’t remember the last time he’d been at a loss for words, but here he was, staring slack-jawed like a complete idiot.

“Perhaps you should thank him for saving your from that bush,” Madam Pomfry prodded gently, taking your arm to examine the gashes riddled there.

“Wouldn’t have been an issue if he kept a leash on his dog,” you bit.

James winced, guilt curdling in his stomach even though there was nothing he could have done to stop Sirius. The cuts on your arms looked bad, a deep and angry red, dried blood mixing with the purple stains on your skin.

How could he make this right?

Reader POV

You fought to hold your glare, but the pained look in James’ eye was rapidly unraveling your resolve. Of course it was James fucking Potter that found you. The golden head boy of Gryffindor, in all his infuriatingly handsome and tender-hearted glory, saved your dumbass from crucifixion-by-blackberries.

You’d almost rather be crucified than sit there for another second. The lights in the infirmary were too bright, the space too open, too sterile.

Why couldn’t you have been anywhere else tonight? If you had ever believed in good luck, you certainly wouldn’t believe in it now.

“Thank you, James,” you acquiesced, unable to mask the bitterness in your tone.

James smiled at you despite your tone, because he never stopped fucking smiling. “Thank you for not biting me,” he said, looking down at his palm—still stained with blood. Your blood. Because he had his hand wrapped around you. His giant, deliciously warm hand holding you ever so gently…

“Ow!”

“Sorry, dear. Just a few more,” Madam Pomfry soothed, having made the first stitch while you were distracted. Distracted by James fucking Potter.

You needed to get a grip. Him saving you doesn’t change anything. Sure, you would have been forced to stay there for eternity, or skewer yourself shifting back. But he was still James Potter, the embodiment of everything you despised most.

You hated Hogwarts, hated the crowded halls and musty rooms and catty students. You hated the classes, which either moved too slow or too fast. You hated the professors, with all their snobbery and favoritism.

Thus, you hated James. Because he not only loved the school, but the school loved him back.

Graduation couldn’t come soon enough. No more morning classes, no more roommates, no more James fucking Potter.

James seemed to sense your discomfort, his dark brows drawing together in concern. “Are you alright, though? Really?”

“Fine,” you hissed through gritted teeth, a headache blooming behind your eyes so sharply it rivaled the stitches you were receiving. You squeezed your eyes shut. Merlin, it’s too fucking bright.

You tried desperately to disappear into your mind, that secret garden where it was always midnight, always dark and quiet and safe, and escape for a little while.

“I suppose I’ll leave you to it then,” James said, sounding almost forlorn. Unsure in a way that was so unlike him, it made you open your eyes again. He shuffled on his feet, running a hand through his unruly black hair. “See you in Charms, then?”

You nodded, and he left without another word, glancing back at you a final time before the door swung shut behind him.

“James is a good lad,” Madam Pomfry said, giving you a pointed look. “Would do you well to let him in a little bit.”

You shrugged, and closed your eyes once more.

It wasn’t until you’d been patched up and sent on your way that your realized you still had his scarf wrapped around your neck, the smell of him, sun-dried laundry and cedar, lingering in your nose. You tucked it into the bottom of your trunk, telling yourself you’d take it to the be cleaned tomorrow morning.

The following afternoon…

You were dreading Charms, dragging your feet as you walked down the final corridor. You’d slept most of the day, your schedule being mostly afternoon classes, and the last thing you wanted to do was socialize.

Not that anyone talked to you, but still. Just being around other people was draining. Not to mention, James would be one of those people.

And sure enough, when you made your way into the classroom, you found James sitting next to your usual spot in the back corner, chatting animatedly with his friend Remus. The only one of his friends you found somewhat tolerable.

Of course, every other seat was taken.

James was dressed in his usual Gryffindor attire, a sweater vest and loosely done tie, white sleeves pushed up to show off the thickness of his sun-kissed forearms. Black slacks hugged his toned legs. Really, all of his clothes seemed just a fraction too tight over his Herculean build—saint’s sake you needed to get a hold of yourself. You were not interested in James Potter.

“There you are!” James chirped, and you groaned inwardly. You noticed the other students murmuring to themselves, wondering why James had taken an interest in you of all people, but James seemed oblivious to it. “How are you feeling?” He asked, pulling out your chair for you as you approached.

“I’m fine, a little sore,” you said, dropping into your seat and rummaging through your bag to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Goldenrod helps,” Remus said, giving you sympathetic look. “And chocolate.”

“I’m fine,” you repeated, setting your books on the desk, and Remus shrugged, bidding you both farewell before walking back to the boys usual spot by the sunlit windows. It made your preferred corner look like a cave in comparison.

Flitwick dove into the lecture before James could ask anything else, to your profound relief.

But then—“I brought you these,” James whispered, sliding a tin across the table and under your nose. He seemed almost…nervous? “They’re, ah—they’re blackberry scones.”

Oh, no. You felt your heart swell in real time as you reached for the lid, a current of electricity flying through you when your fingers accidentally grazed his. “Why would you—”

“Ms. y/l/n!” Flitwick scolded. “Pay attention!”

You quickly pushed the tin away, heat scorching your cheeks. “Sorry, sir,” you squeaked, ducking your head back down to your notes. When the lecture resumed, you shot James a rueful glare.

“Sorry.” He grimaced. “They might be rubbish, I’ve never really baked before.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Was this real life? James fucking Potter baked you scones? “James, you shouldn’t have—”

“I wanted to, as an apology for last night.”

“You don't have to apologize. I’d rather just forget it, honestly,” you admitted.

“Oh.” A flicker of hurt passed through his expression as he looked down, and you immediately regretted your blunt words.

You really were terrible in these situations, sucking the fun out of the room like a blackhole.

“Well, I’m glad to have properly met you,” he said after a beat, flashing you a toothy smile, dispersing the tension as quickly as it came.

You stared at him, perplexed. Your attitude had rolled off of him like water on a duck’s back. “Uh, thanks,” you said, painfully awkward, and stuck your nose into your book.

James’ POV

His palms were sweating, why the fuck were his palms sweating? And he couldn’t keep his hands out of his hair. And he wanted to keep talking, merlin, he felt like he could talk your ear off, but he held his tongue.

Talking to him seemed like the last thing you wanted to do, so he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to annoy you further.

You practically ran from him when class ended, and now, he was racking his brain for something he could have done to make you dislike him so much while sitting at dinner in the Great Hall.

There was something different about you, a depth in your eyes that piqued his interest. He was so used to people fawning all over him, tripping over themselves to talk to him, but you couldn't care less about who he was.

If anything, you seemed to like him less because of who he was. Which as driving him a little bit mad.

“You reckon he’s still thinking about that bat girl?” Peter muttered to Remus.

“Oh, absolutely. He was up at 5 a.m. baking,” Remus chuckled. “Spent the entirety of Charms today practically drooling all over her.”

“That's pathetic,” Marlene tittered, and it was enough to draw James out of his head.

“Fuck off, ‘Kinnon,” he said, flicking a chip at her.

“What's the obsession, anyways?” Sirius asked, his feet kicked up on the table, twirling his wand in his fingers. “It's not like you smashed her into a thorn bush.”

“No, I believe that was you,” James bit, avoiding the question, an ember of irritation flaring in his chest. He wasn't obsessed. Just…intrigued. “Have you even apologized?”

“To her human face? No,” Sirius said, looking a bit guilty. Then, he stood up on the bench, sweeping his gray eyes across the Great Hall. “I don't see her.”

“She's not here,” James grumbled, sounding more petulant than he probably should.

“She eats in the library,” Lily supplied.

James whirled around to face her. “How do you know that?”

“Because I pay attention to other people, you git.”

“C’mon, then. I have wrongs to right.” Sirius hopped down and grabbed his bag. James was already on his feet.

“You really shouldn't!” Lily called after them, but they were gone, Great Hall doors swinging shut behind them.

As they neared the library, James felt his skin start to heat, palms going clammy as his heart beat faster and faster. When they reached the doors, James nearly changed his mind, almost told Sirius they should just return to the Great Hall and leave you be, but his friend was on a mission.

Sirius pushed open the doors, startling the dozen students milling around at the front. “Any of you lot seen y/n?”

James felt his lungs shrivel in his chest. This was going to go badly, he could feel it.

“Padfoot,” he chastised.

“She's always back by the Forbidden Section,” a Ravenclaw offered.

“Cheers!” Sirius grabbed James by the elbow and dragged him through the crowd that had gathered and towards the Forbidden Section.

James had never felt so conspicuous in his life, and it made his skin crawl with aversion. Normally, he loved nothing more than being the center of attention, but he didn't want you to see him like that.

They rounded a corner, entering the darker, quieter part of the library, and sure enough, there you were. Curled up in an overstuffed armchair under a single, low-burning lantern, a book open in your lap and a scone in your hand.

You brought it to your lips, nibbling on the edge while your eyes drifted over the page, focused intently on whatever you were reading.

James had the strange realization that he'd very much like to be scone right about now, and felt his cheeks warm for the upteenth time that day. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear the image from his mind.

“There she is!” Sirius called, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. Though you quickly masked your surprise with irritation, lips pulling down into an adorable frown.

“Were you looking for me?” You asked, eyes flitting to James before quickly averting.

“We were, doll.” Sirius sauntered up to you, dropping onto his knees in front of your chair. You looked like you couldn’t decide whether to shift and fly away, or kick him in the teeth.

“Sorry to bother you,” James said, leaning against the bookshelf beside you. “Lily said you'd be here.”

“What, um, why exactly were you looking for me?” Your looked back and forth between the two of them, a small furrow forming between your brows, fidgeting in your seat.

“Prongs here was gracious enough to remind me that I hadn't properly apologized for hurting you.” Sirius patted James’ knee. “So, I am sincerely and deeply apologetic for body slamming you into an evil, evil bush.Can you ever forgive my inelegance?”

Your eyes widened, the color of you irises richer, more captivating in the low light.

Fuck, he was staring again.

“It's, uh—it’s okay, Sirius,” you said, glancing up at James again with a look he immediately recognized: help me.

Maybe you didn't hate him so much after all.

“Alright, mutt. You apologized, back off of her,” James said, sticking out his leg to push Sirius back a step. Your eyes melted with gratitude, and James’ heart lost its rhythm, beating slower as something foreign and liquor-sweet flowed through him.

“I vow to be more careful in my pursuit of late-night snacks.” Sirius stood up, crossing his heart.

“Just no snapping bats out of the air, yeah?” You said, a shy little smile lifting the corner of your mouth.

“Never,” Sirius promised, and you nodded.

“How'd the scones come out?” James asked, filling the small gap of silence.

You shot him another grateful look and holy shit, he could get used to that. “You only managed to burn some, so that's good.”

He smirked, thoroughly enjoying this more mischivious side of you. “I blame the ovens,” he said.

“Sure, James,” you chuckled.

He could jump for fucking joy. You laughed at his joke!

“That's impressive, considering it was the ass crack of fucking dawn when he made them,” Sirius teased, flashing him a malicious wink.

You pulled a face, nose scrunched up in faux disgust. “That's way too early.”

“Nocturnal type, hm?” James asked without thinking, mentally smacking himself. Of course you were a night owl, you were a bat for Godric’s sake.

“You could say that,” you giggled. “Most of my classes are later in the day.”

“Then you should study with us tomorrow morning!” Sirius said suddenly, and James groaned, ready to neuter him for being so uncouth. “We're going to meet here after breakfast to study for the Potions exam.”

“Oh, uh—” you started to pick at your nails, loosing your footing in the conversation as quickly as you'd found it.

“No pressure,” James added, seized by the need to alleviate your discomfort. “It’s just going to the four of us, Lily, and Marlene.”

“And Prongs will make more scones!” Sirius waggled his eyebrows.

It's decided; James was going to smother him in his sleep.

“Maybe,” you finally answered, avoiding James’ eye, and his heart sank.

Sirius nodded, apparently satisfied with how this disastrous encounter went. “Lovely. Now, if you'll excuse us, James and I have to, ah, hit the gym…for…Quidditch reasons.”

You raised an eyebrow at the obvious lie, but didn't comment. “Enjoy,” you said, sinking back into your chair and turning your attention back to your book.

James chased a cackling Sirius out of the library. “You're a terrible fucking wingman,” James hissed, smacking him on the back of the head.

“I know, that was god-awful,” Sirius snorted. “But, maybe you'll get to see her tomorrow? So not a complete failure.”

“Or, she’ll never talk to me again because I'm friends with imbeciles that send her to the infirmary!”

“I guess we'll find out!”

“Now, I'm actually taking you to the gym with me as punishment,” James glowered. He needed to work off some of this stagnant energy, too, his mind and body buzzing from that small interaction.

“No! Merlin, please—no!” Sirius cried as James hauled him by the hair down the corridor.

Reader’s POV

You lingered outside the library, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Were you really doing this? You couldn't remember the last time you hung out with more than a few people at a time, let alone in the morning.

But you couldn't deny that at part of you, a miniscule, insignificant part of you that barely garners mentioning, wanted to see James. And with James came his friends.

He'd been kind to you, saved you from certain stabbing, made you apology baked goods, the least you could do is show your face for one morning study session.

There was something about James that was hard to say no to. He was so genuine, so eager. Even you couldn't bring yourself to pop his optimistic bubble, no matter how ambivalent you felt towards most things.

He was making it very difficult to continue despising him.

You could suck it up for one morning to make him happy. And only because he saved you. You owed him. Not because you cared about him, his feelings, or his opinion of you.

Definitely not.

Before you could chicken out, you pushed through the doors and into the library. It was sun-soaked and bustling, energy humming along the walls and marble floors. The chandeliers cast rainbows across the space, brightening the countless rows of books. Dust hung in the air like glitter, and it was almost, almost pretty.

Already, your head was starting to ache.

It didn't take long to find James and his friends, James’ voice carrying across the quiet library.

“She gets headaches if it too bright! Help me or fuck off, Pads,” James said, his voice pitching with distress.

“You need to relax, James. Your stress sweat is stinking up the room,” Marlene teased.

“That is so not helpful,” James bit. “And I smell delightful, thank you very much.”

“Because you practically fumigated the dorm with cologne,” Remus retorted just as you stepped around the corner.

“I did not—y/n!” James nearly toppled off the chair he was standing on, dropping the robes he was trying to pin up over the window.

The whole group swiveled towards you, and your stomach dropped out.

“Morning!” They all chorused.

You managed a small wave. “Good morning,” you mumbled, kicking yourself for agreeing to this. What the hell were you thinking? You didn't belong here.

Then, James was beside you, dropping a brawny arm over your shoulders, the alleged cologne wafting over you like a summer breeze. Verdant and sunny. “I'm so glad you came,” James murmured to you as he lead you to an available spot on the less-sunny side of the table. His bag was sitting in the seat, though his stuff was cluttering the space directly next to it.

He'd saved the spot for you, knowing you'd prefer to be out of the sun.

“Me too,” you found yourself saying, butterflies tickling the underside of your ribs.

That's it, you've officially lost your mind.

James pulled the chair out for you and you sank into it, the shade enveloping you like a cool blanket, and you felt a little more at ease. The group immediately launched into conversation about classes and Quidditch, their ease quickly growing contagious as you worked on your Potions formulas. James was reclined beside you, apparently able to work on his essay while chattering endlessly, and you found yourself chiming in, laughing at his silly quips and lame jokes.

One study session turned into two, then three, then a week passed before you knew it. You'd spend the morning with them, studying in the library or common room, then James would meet up with you for dinner in the library after Quidditch practice, sometimes with Sirius and Remus in tow.

You hadn't given much thought to your new routine, brushing it off as a temporary anomaly, until Saturday morning, when you woke up two hours earlier than usual and realized there would be no studying this morning. A kernel of disappointment lodged in your chest.

You were starting to wonder why you disliked him, any of them, in the first place. They were kind, funny, and more welcoming than ninety percent of the other people you'd met at Hogwarts.

The kernel of disappointed grew into a boulder of guilt, crushing and cold, at the realization. Your comfort was a construct. You'd been so stuck in your own head, in your assumptions, that it hadn't occurred to you that maybe you were wrong. That maybe, way out of your comfort zone, you'd actually love it.

A soft knock sounded against your dorm door. You threw off your covers and wrapped the blanket around yourself before pulling open the door.

You were not expecting to see Lily Evans standing there dressed in shorts and a bikini top, a pair of sunglasses keeping her copper hair out of her face. She had a colorful bag slung over her shoulder.

“Morning, sunshine,” she chirped, smiling at you.

“Oh, uh, hey, Lily. What's up?” You pulled the quilt tighter around yourself. Merlin, Lily was beautiful.

“We're spending the afternoon by the lake and I was wondering if you wanted to join?”

“Who, ah, who’s going to be there?” You asked, tongue thick with anxiety.

“James,” she replied, green eyes glimmering. “And the others too, but who cares about them.”

“Well, I—I don't have a bathing suit—”

Lily pushed past you, dropping her bag onto your bed and rummaging through it before pulling out an adorable black bathing suit. “I had a feeling you'd say that. And before you start—” she held up a finger to shush your protests, “We can make it whatever size you need.”

“Lily—”

“Please? We really want you there. It's been nice having a sane person around,” she said, taking your hands. “And James was too shy to come here and ask himself.”

You snorted. “James Potter? Shy?”

“I know.” Lily nodded solemnly. “He's different with you—good different,” she clarified when your frowned. “He's baking, for Merlin’s sake.”

You giggled, warmth blooming in your chest. “Alright, you win.”

Lily grinned, clapping her hands together. “They're already there, so let's go!”

You quickly changed it the bathing suit and your one pair of shorts, fishing your sunglasses from the very bottom of your trunk.

“Oh, honey,” Lily purred, casting an appreciative eye over you. “He's going to combust.”

Embarrassment burned your cheeks, but deep down, you hoped she was right.

It was a gorgeous day, temperate and blue-skied, a rare, cloudless afternoon in Scotland. It seemed half the school was frolicking around the grounds, piled onto picnic blankets and playing football in the open fields, wildflowers dotting the hillside.

When your reached the edge of the lake, your traitorous eyes immediately found James.

Waist-deep in the blue water and sun-kissed, rippling muscles on display as he splashed around with Peter and Remus, dark hair slicked back and dripping onto his broad shoulders. He was practically glowing, a gilded God among scrawny teenagers, and your mouth went sandy.

Then, he saw you.

If you thought he was glowing before—Lily was right, the poor boy damn near combusted. His face shattered into an enormous smile, his glasses going crooked from the force of it.

“Y/n!” He called loudly enough to alert everyone in the general vicinity, throwing his arms out in surprise.

“Hey, James,” you laughed, giving him a timid wave. It felt like every eye turned to you, burning into your skin like the dazzling sunlight. “I'm just going to go set my stuff down,” you said to Lily, spotting a shady tree just by the water you could retreat to.

The tree was just wide enough to hide you from prying eyes, the shadow of its leaves a balm on your overheated skin. You'd only been outside for five minutes, and already you were floundering. Here you were, hiding away instead of running into the water with Lily, towards the fucking Adonis waiting for you.

“Hey, you.”

You jumped, whirling around to find James standing right behind you, rubbing a towel over his sopping hair. “Oh, uh, hey.” Merlin, he was even more beautiful up close.

“Lily dragged you out, huh?” He wrapped the towel around his waist, leaving his hair even wilder than usual.

“She did,” you replied, desperately trying to keep your eyes from wandering down his torso. “Said you were too much of a pansy to ask me yourself.”

James guffawed, head falling back on his shoulders as he laughed. “That witch,” he chuckled. “You didn't come just to humiliate me, did you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, you are the center of the universe.”

“Your universe, ideally.” He flirted, and your stomach flipped, somersaulting with your lungs and leaving you a bit breathless.

Thankfully, a screech from Lily being thrown into the water by Remus saved you from having to formulate a response. You turned at the sound, and your gaze snagged on a group of fifth years ogling James, and glaring daggers at you.

One of the girls shielded her mouth with her hand, muttering something to her friend while her eyes flicked up and down your body, and they burst out laughing.

Anxiety coiled tight in your chest, skin suddenly too tight on your body, the bathing suit suffocating. Everything was too bright, too loud, too open—

“Hey,” James said gently, his hands finding your hips and turning so his body was blocking yours from the girls. “Love, look at me. What's happened?” He bent down, trying to catch your eyes as they bounced around from onlooker to onlooker.

Fuck, everyone was looking.

“Them,” you mumbled, voice pitched an octave higher.

James looked back towards them, brows furrowed, and you made a hiss of protest, grabbing his chin and turning his head back towards you.

“Don't look,” you pleaded, crossing yours arms over your chest to cover yourself.

His confused expression twisted in consternation, guilt flickering in his eyes. “Look at me.”

You couldn't, too focused on the others.

“Don't look at them, look at me,” he said, a little firmer, his grip tightening on your hips. Your eyes flicked up to his, finding them molten, burning, pupils wide and dark. “Do you want to be here with me?” He asked.

Tentatively, you nodded. Unable to lie to him when he was looking at you, holding you, like that.

“I want you here with me too. More than anything.”

“James—”

“If you want to go back to your dorm, I'll take you myself right now,” he promised, voice trodden with sincerity. “We will do whatever you want to do. Just say the word.”

We will. The two words echoed in your mind, as tangible and concrete as your bat sonar. Whatever you decided, whatever you wanted, he was with you.

“I want to stay here,” you said, forcing yourself to hold his eye so he knew you meant it.

“Would you like to swim, or stay here in the shade?”

You hesitated, then— "Swim,” you answered.

He grinned, and one his hands skimmed across your hip towards your stomach. “That's a brave girl,” he cooed, and with a flick of his wrist, he popped the button of your shorts open.

Your mind went gooey as James helped you shimmy your shorts down your legs, letting them drop into a heap at your feet, tingles erupting over your skin in the wake of his hands.

“Brace yourself, sweetheart. Water’s cold,” was his only warning before he scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and charging into the frigid water with you in his arms.

“James!” You shrieked as he spun you, the heat of his body a sharp contrast to the bite of the water reaching your ribs.

“Couldn't let you talk yourself out of it,” he hummed, one of his hands coming up to smooth the hair out of your face. Droplets of water ran down your neck, making you shiver, and his smile widened.

“Just don't throw me,” you warned, failing miserably at sounding stern.

He scoffed. “You're crazy if you think I'm letting you go now, love.”

Then, a giant arc of water came crashing over the both of you, soaking you completely in a blast of cold. James tightened his grip on you, sturdy enough to keep you both upright under the onslaught.

You sputtered and wiped the water from your eyes, cursing, only to find Sirius doubled over laughing.

“Hold that thought,” James said, carefully setting you on your feet, the water reaching your chest. He shot a withering glare at Sirius, and the tattooed boy straightened, eyes glinting with challenge. “You're gonna regret that.” And James lunged, tackling Sirius back into the water with an echoing splash.

You wasted the afternoon in the water, splashing and horseplaying until you were shivering, toes numb and fingers crinkly, cheeks sore from smiling.

James wrapped an arm around your middle from behind, catching you mid-yawn, the setting sun and the cold sapping the last dreggs of your energy. “C’mon, love. Your lips are looking a little blue,” he murmured, resting his chin against your shoulder.

“Why are you looking at my lips?” You chided lightly, turning your head so your nose brushed his cheek.

He chuckled. “Can't help myself.”

You let him coax you out of the water and onto the plush grass, and stretched out on your towel under the tree you scouted earlier, letting the warmth of the sinking sun soak into your chilled skin.

James sat beside you, his back against the tree and legs stretched long. “Never thought I'd see this,” he said, quietly enough you weren't sure if he was speaking to you.

“See what?” You asked, tilting your head back to peer up at him, dappled sunlight kissing his tanned chest.

“You stretched out in the sun like a housecat,” he teased. “Sunshine looks pretty on you.”

Affection curled in your chest, simpering and saccharine. “Thanks, Jamie.” You inched up at bit, resting your head on his lap and letting your eyes flutter closed, basking in the drowsy decadence of it all.

His fingers combed thorough your hair, untangling the knots sewn by the water, and drawing you deeper into oncoming sleep.

“But you look stunning in the moonlight too,” he murmured, fingertip tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your jaw. “My little night dweller.”

It felt like a dream, sweet and simple and golden, and you couldn't believe how different your life looked with James Potter in it.

“Tell me something awful about you,” you asked, twisting to look up at him.

“Something awful?” He smirked, dropping his arm over your waist, thumb grazing lazily on your skin. “I snore in my sleep. I put too much sugar in my tea. What kind of awful are you after?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Nevermind.”

“I’d think you'd find plenty awful about me,” he ribbed.

“You'd think,” you hummed, turning your face away so you didn't melt under the radiance in his gaze.

Quickly, you were succumbing to James’ charm, being drawn closer and closer to his gravity, a lonely moon caught in the heavy orbit of the sun.

You felt helpless to it, and that scared you more than anything. You didn't want to need him, to need anybody. It was so much safer to be on your own.

But you weren't sure you wanted safer anymore.

James’ POV

After that day by the lake, James was hooked. Trailing your scent, your energy, your presence like a starving hound. He couldn't get enough of you, and you were kind enough to indulge him. Things hadn't progressed further than they did that day, lingering touches and loaded glances.

Normally, James would dive head first into the deep end, but he found himself wanting to follow your lead. Relishing in the quiet in between moments as much as the more charged ones, content to just be near you, savor you in whatever capacity you'd allow him.

He was just grateful you'd let him in at all. It felt like a gift, a glimpse at something secret and deeply rare, and it was not a blessing he was keen to squander by indulging in his usual hedonistic impulses.

He was happy to tread lightly, to let you step out of the shadows one bit at a time. Patience was never a virtue of his, but for you, he'd find the strength.

A week later, James was late to dinner, Quidditch practice having run well over. Sweat and dirt still clung to him, his training uniform uncomfortable against his balmy skin. But he was fucking starved, the gnawing in his stomach eating away at his mood.

The only thing getting him through was knowing that you'd be there waiting for him. He hadn't seen you at all that day, and it was wearing on him much like the hunger. Leaving him raw and wanting.

He went to push open the doors to the Great Hall at the same moment Lily came dashing out of them.

“Lils?”

“James! What took you so damn long?” She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the Hall. “I was just going to look for you!”

“Practice ran long, saints, Lily—what's up?” He registered the shouting in the next moment, Sirius’ booming voice echoing off the high ceiling. A crowd had gathered at the end of one of the tables, jostling and jeering. Slughorn was in the thick of it, trying to get between Sirius and whoever he was raging at with little success.

Then, James noticed you standing just behind Sirius, Remus hovering protectively at your side. You had a hand pressed to your mouth, the other arm wrapped around your torso. Tears were pooling in your pretty eyes, and the last shred of James’ patience severed.

He knew instantly what had transpired, had heard the mutterings in the hall, the gossip and the merciless chatter. He knew people were talking about the two of you, the Head Boy and Hogwarts' resident recluse, and he knew that it was wearing on you, despite the brave face you put on.

He just never thought anyone would take it this far.

He was across the Hall in a few long strides. He grabbed the bloke Sirius was screaming at by his hood and yanked him backwards, throwing him down onto the ground. “What do we have here?” James snarled, looming over the sniveling rat, his boot placed firmly on the pricks sternum to keep him from scuttling away. “Upsetting my girl, are we?”

“No, no! I, uh—”

“What happened, love?” James asked, looking over his shoulder to you, but you only shook your head, too upset to speak. His rage flared hotter. “Padfoot?” James tried again, turning to Sirius.

“Him and his buddies were crowding her, calling her mute—” Sirius voice broke, splintering with anger. “Asked if her tongue worked at all,” Sirius spat, glaring at the other two boys cowering behind Slughorn.

James turned his attention back to the roach under his boot. “Give me one reason why I shouldn't rip your tongue out and shove it up your ass?”

“Fuck, Potter! It was a joke!” He sputtered.

“Let’s see if it was worth the laugh, then,” James cocked his foot back, kicking the kid sharply once in the side, then again in the kidneys when he curled up to protect his vitals.

Too fucking bad.

James kicked him a third time, pain shooting up his shin from the force, but before he could drop onto him, imagining ripping the fuckers tongue out with his bare hands, breaking his face open under his fists, a pair of arms wrapped around his middle. They pulled back on him with meager strength, trying to tug him away from his groveling victim.

He immediately knew it was you.

“Stop, Jamie. Please stop,” you whimpered, your forehead pressed between his shoulder blades. “It’s done. It’s over.”

His hand rested over yours on his abdomen, his breath coming out in jagged huffs. He hadn't realized he was shaking with rage until he felt your steadiness pressed against him. Trying to hold him together.

“He hurt you,” was all James could think to say, the crimson pulse of anger still throbbing at the edges of his vision. No one fucking hurt you.

“And you hurt him back,” you murmured into his jersey, clinging to him like you were afraid he'd lunge again. Hurting him wasn't enough. He needed to ruin him, throttle him, beat him so badly no one fucked with you ever again— “It's over.”

James drew a deep inhale, trying to focus at your warmth against his back, your willowy fingers clasped under his. “It's over,” James repeated, fixing the perpetrators with a warning glare. “So apologize, and stay the fuck away from her.”

They all nodded, muttering apologies while scooping up their groaning friend and hurrying out of the Great Hall. Only once they were gone did you release him.

James turned to face you, guilt churning in his stomach and an apology on his tongue, but you were already half-way down the aisle, wiping angrily at your cheeks as you stormed out. Leaving James standing there, feeling as filthy inside as he was on the outside.

No, no, no.

He knew he shouldn't. Knew he should let you go, give you space so you both could calm down. But he ran after you anyways.

“Y/n!” He shouted, running out into the hall and catching up to you in a few long strides. “Hey, wait—sweetheart, please—”

“I can't do this James,” you blurted, spinning on your heel to face him, and he staggered to a stop. “I-It's too much.” You shook your head as tears rolled down your cheeks, like you'd come to some sort of decision in your head. “I thought I could, but I can't—I tried, I—I’m sorry.”

His mind was reeling, too cluttered with anger and adrenaline and panic to find the words to make you stay. “Baby, don't go—” He reached for you, but you took a step back, then another. “We can do this—” His fingers brushed your hand the same moment you shifted, rocketing off through an open window, disappearing into the dark night.

“No, y/n! Wait!” He cried, but you were long gone, leaving his heart cleaved in two, his soul hollowed out. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath, tugging hard at the roots of his hair. It wasn't enough. “Fuck!” He shouted, his fist connecting with the stone wall and making the nosy portraits scatter. Something cracked in his hand, but he could barely feel it over the agony in his chest.

“Prongs,” Sirius called, he, Lily, and Remus following him out onto the hall.

“I went too far,” James muttered, chest rising and falling rapidly, barely able to breathe through the crushing guilt. The sucking vacuum of emptiness you left behind.

“We all did,” Remus said gently. “Sirius whacked one of them in the head with a dinner plate.”

James loosed a wry chuckle, splintered and uneven, and shook his head. “I fucked this up, pushed her too far.”

None of his friends commented. The pity on their faces was answer enough.

“You can fix it, just—just give her some space,” Lily said, approaching cautiously. Like he was some kind of wild animal.

He stepped back from her, unable to bear their sympathy when he felt so wretched. “I'll see you later,” he muttered, turning on his heel and stalking away.

Reader’s POV

A week later…

Burrowed under your blankets, cocooned in the thick warmth of your own labored breathing, steamy from your countless shed tears.

You couldn't believe you had run off like that, skittish as a hare, spooked at the first sign of trouble. He'd stood up for you, damn near got himself expelled because some dip shits wagged their tongues at you.

But you couldn't escape the cloying tar pit of shame their words opened in your gut—what if they were right? What if all you were to James was a conquest? Another trophy for his display case?

It ate through you, sticky and dark and consuming, worsened by the guilt swimming through like a barbed alligator. Because how could you think that of him? How could you dismiss all you'd learned about his heart over the last few weeks so flippantly?

James wasn't like that, and he surely wouldn't have risked his Head Boy status for a meager hunt already halfway snared. He wouldn't treat someone like a consolation prize.

But…how well did you really know him?

Certainly not enough to expose yourself to the inevitable agony of trying to wrap your arms around the sun. He was James fucking Potter. He was everything. And you were bitter and lonely and lost.

You were better off here, saving all your romanticism for your inner life, rather than waste it on a fantasy.

“Y/n,” one of your roommates called gently, shaking your shoulder through the quilt. “You have some visitors.”

“I don't feel well,” you muttered petulantly.

“That makes two of you,” Sirius said, and your stomach dropped.

Slowly, you inched yourself out of the blanket, squinting at the golden sunlight filtering into the room. The air was decidedly cooler out there than in your little cave, and it stung your tear-scraped cheeks.

Sirius and Remus stood by your bed, the latter looking supremely uncomfortable.

“What do you want?” You asked, scrubbing a hand over your face to clear the cobwebs and crustys.

“Normally we wouldn't, ah, get involved,” Remus began, scratching the back of his head. “But—”

“But James is our best mate, and he's an absolute disaster,” Sirius cut in. “And clearly you aren't fairing much better.”

“So you've come to lecture me?” You bit, stung by his bluntness.

“No,” Remus said, glaring pointedly at Sirius. “We wanted to talk to you because—”

“Because we probably understand what you're feeling better than anyone,” Sirius finished.

You raised an incredulous eyebrow. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Perhaps,” Remus placated. “But we know better than anyone what it's like to be loved by James, and not really understand why.”

Your jaw clenched, a bitchy retort lashing at the backs of your teeth despite the glow his words stoked to life in your chest. James didn't love you. How could he?

Sirius sat on the edge of your bed, yet again completely unperturbed by your attitude. “James can be really fucking naive, and entirely too optimistic. Down right ignorant sometimes if I’m honest—”

“But he's also genuine, and loyal,” Remus interjected. “And it makes you want to, ah, redirect him, if you will.”

“You push him away because you don't think he understands what he's signing himself up for,” Sirius clarified. “Moons and I have done it at least a dozen times each.”

“And how is that relevant to me?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, like that would stop them from seeing into your heart further.

“Maybe it isn't.” Sirius shrugged. “Maybe you actually do think he's a brute and hate him for defending your honor in front of the entire school.”

Ouch.

You shot him a loathsome glare.

“Or maybe you're scared shitless by how loudly he loves, so you bailed to try and protect yourself,” he shot back.

“And to protect him from you,” Remus added.

You shook your head, fresh tears burning behind your eyes. You hated how right they were, and how pathetic it made you feel.

“Look,” Sirius said, softening his voice. “We just wanted to say that it's worth it.”

You looked back up at them, their faces blurred with salt water, as the fight rinsed from your body like grime from a window pane.

Remus offered you a handkerchief. “It's vulnerable, and it's messy, but it's worth it,” Remus said. “He’s worth it.”

Sirius nodded sagely. “You just have to trust him.”

“It's not him I don't trust,” you murmured, ringing the handkerchief in your hands, Remus’ initials staring up at you in delicate silver thread.

Remus gave you a sad, knowing smile. “You have to trust yourself too.”

“Alright, that's quite enough sentimentality for one afternoon,” Sirius said, pushing to his feet and ushering Remus towards the door.

“His first match back is Saturday!” Remus called over his shoulder as Sirius herded him out onto the hall.

“We'll save you a seat,” Sirius said with a wink before closing the door behind him.

Their words echoed in your mind, ringing true despite the countless excuses you'd made over the last few days. Deep down, you knew Remus was right; James was worth it.

But could you love him the way he deserved with all your pessimism and anxiety and thorns?

Would it be so bad to try?

James’ POV

He didn't see you for two weeks after that, besides in Charms, where you kept your head down and refused to look at him. He returned to his usual spot beside Remus, wishing it was your warmth he felt instead of the afternoon sun.

Two weeks he sat in evening detention, staring out the windows and hoping to see your silhouette flutter past the moon. 14 days he was benched from Quidditch for his injured hand, remembering the way your soft skin felt under his rough palm. 336 hours he found himself without words, preferring the silence over pointless chatter. 20160 seconds he spent in his head, where you were still beside him, and you looked at him with fondness instead of fear.

Everyone was buzzing for his first match back on the pitch. But he felt disconnected from it all, like the James Potter they were talking about was someone else entirely.

He didn't want to be that James Potter, he wanted to be your Jamie.

He hoped the feeling would melt away once the match started, flying through the air always did wonders for his mood, but if anything, he felt worse. You weren't there to watch him, so what was the fucking point?

His mood reflected in his play, and so the match went on, and on, and on. In the sixth hour, the sun long ago set, the players were dead in the air, the stands listless. But Quidditch didn't stop until the snitch was caught or enough points were scored that losing team forfeited, and James hadn’t scored a single point.

His hand was aching, sore from disuse, and his captain was screaming at him. Even his friends looked disappointed, slumped against one another in their seats, where they hadn't budged for the entire game.

Something whizzed by, catching his attention. At first he thought it was the snitch, and lifted his hand to signal the Seeker, but then it flew by again. Zipping by like a little shadow.

He nearly fell off his broom when he realized.

You slowed a bit, fluttering around his head, the delicate breeze from your wings ruffling his sweaty hair.

“Hey, you,” he murmured, unable to stop the smile pulling the corners of his mouth. He reached out to touch you when you suddenly banked away, swooping down towards the goals.

You gripped the top of the largest hoop with your little feet, and dangled upside down from it, stretching your wings before wrapping them around yourself, like you were getting comfy.

The Hufflepuff Keeper spotted you and flew a bit closer, curious. James was about to shout for them to leave you alone when you loosed a wrathful hiss, flaring your wings, and the Keeper reared back, screeching about a flying rat.

“Potter!” King shouted at him, and he turned just in time to catch the Quaffle headed his way.

The Keeper was too distracted by you to guard the hoop properly, and James smirked.

“Potter scores ten points for Gryffindor!”

“Another ten for James Potter!”

“That's 50 points for Gryffindor, what a come back!”

The continued scoring seemed to re-energize the game, the crowd on its feet and roaring in approval. James couldn't remember the last time he enjoyed a Quidditch match so much, and it was all because of you.

“And the Seeker catches the snitch! GRYFFINDOR WINS!”

James whooped and cheered with his team, but he was searching the sky for you, his heart so full he thought he might choke on it. It seemed you were gone, though, as he had a feeling you might be, the excitement and cheering too much for your sensitive ears.

He landed heavily on the ground, his muscles exhausted from hours of staying airborne, and straightened to greet the crowd of Gryffindors that were pouring onto the pitch. But as soon as he did, he spotted you racing towards him.

“You did it!” You cried, throwing your arms around his neck as your body collided with his, making him stagger back a step.

His mind short-circuited, struggling to process what was happening. You weren't gone, you were here and wearing his scarf and…hugging him? In front of the entire student body?

Did he fall off his broom and hit his head? Because this had to be a dream.

He dropped his broom to hold you properly, one arm looped around your waist, the other holding your head against his shoulder. He squeezed as tight as his tired muscles could, burying his nose into your neck and drawing a long, greedy inhale.

“Couldn't have done it without you,” he murmured, fighting back the tears of relief pooling behind his eyes. You were here. It wasn't a dream, or a fantasy. You were real, solid and beautiful and trembling in his arms as the crowd cheered, confetti raining over your heads as fireworks popped in the obsidian sky.

You pulled your head back, cheeks streaked with tears and gave him a wobbly little smile. “I'm so proud of you, and I'm sorry for what I said.”

He shushed you with a peck on the cheek, then another on your nose, temple, the corner of your mouth—Merlin, he couldn't stop himself.

“I want to try again,” you said through water-logged giggles, fingers curling the hood of his uniform. “Please, Jamie?”

“Of course,” he said, caving to temptation and pecking your lips. “I’m yours,” he mumbled against your lips, and you grinned, kissing him again. You tasted like nectar and moonlight. Sweeter than any victory. And he let himself indulge, setting you on your feet so he could kiss you harder, deeper, drown in your winsome little sounds as you finally, finally, opened up for him.

The shadow to his sunlight, the moon to his tides, the other half of his heart, safe in his arms at long last.

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[midnightwritingsessions]

Chords of your heart

Summary: Being a close friend of one direction you are invited to take the stage with them. You play one of your favourite songs of theirs, one Niall had wrote. He had written the song about you and now you were singing it to Harry, his jealousy blinds him and he plays his guitar over your vocals. Bad summary and use of y/n! 🥴

Masterlist

1.5k words

Might not be my best writing sorry! <3

-

The crowd buzzed with excitement, an electric hum of anticipation rippling through the stadium. The lights dimmed slightly, and a hush fell over the audience before an eruption of screams as the familiar figures of One Direction took the stage. It was the middle of their world tour, and the energy was at an all-time high. Amongst the sea of flashing lights and waving hands, there was a particularly strong rumor floating around, Y/N might be performing tonight. As a longtime friend of the band, you had been seen traveling with them recently, fueling speculation.

You had know the band since they first gained fame, when you were still growing your career. You had risen up together and never let it affect your friendship. When they had announced their tour they invited you with them, an offer you couldn’t turn down. You were currently on a break from music after just coming back from your own tour a few months ago and thought this would be a good way to enjoy yourself instead of lazing around. So far you couldn’t have made a better decision everyday brought you laughter in some way, the boys were always joking around.

On the days off from their tour you made sure to take the boys out on trips in whatever city they were in. You took many photos which ended up on your social media. The stream of photos of you with the band in the cities and some back stage lead to rumours that you could be performing with them from fans and more invasive rumours of relationships and scandals from the press. After seeing the rumours the boys couldn’t turn down an opportunity to make their fans happy so they asked you to perform at a show with them. You didn’t even need to think about the answer.

Which led you to now, standing behind stage listening to the bands set waiting for your queue to join them. You were used to the loud cheers from fans and the deep vibrations from the excitement in the room but you still held your breath in anticipation and excitement for the reaction of your appearance from the crowd.

Fans had been posting theories all over social media, dissecting every Instagram story and blurry backstage sighting trying to guess which show you were coming out at if any at all. You had even added fuel to the fire by liking certain TikTok’s and posts of theories.

From your place just behind the scenes you could see Harry stepped up to the mic midway through the concert and smirk knowingly at the crowd, the stadium nearly shook with excitement. "So, we have a little surprise for you lot tonight. Well… not so little" he teased, glancing toward the side stage. "Our dear friend, and one of the most incredible artists out there, Y/N!" The roar was deafening as you walked onto the stage, beaming at the crowd. You hugged each of the boys before taking your own place between them. It felt surreal standing here, sharing this moment with your best friends.

They started with a few classic songs, some from their old albums and some of your own, your voice blending effortlessly with theirs, the chemistry undeniable. Each band member got their turn singing with you, your dynamics all different yet playful and electric. Then, it was time for the final song of your set with them, one that Niall had written and coincidentally was your favourite. What you or the rest of the band didn’t know (but maybe they had their suspicions) was that the song the girl was written about was you.

Your relationship with Niall was very dear to you and the past few weeks while being on tour with him had made your feelings for him grow, something you promised yourself you wouldn’t let happen. The past few weeks on tour had been filled with laughter, late-night conversations, and stolen moments between you and Niall. From sitting side by side in the tour bus, sharing headphones and swapping song ideas, to sneaking out after gigs for quiet walks through unfamiliar cities, you were close with Niall before but now he made your heart beat faster anytime he was near you.

One night, after a particularly long rehearsal, you had fallen asleep on the couch in the green room, curled up in an oversized hoodie. Niall had found you like that and couldn’t resist sitting beside you gently brushing a stray hair from your face. Louis had walked in moments later, smirking knowingly. “You’re gone for her, mate” he teased, clapping Niall on the back. Niall had simply sighed, not even bothering to deny it. Then, there were the inside jokes, the lingering glances, the way Niall’s hand would brush against yours for just a second longer than necessary or linger just above your lower back. Niall craved to just be able to reach out and touch you. You felt something, too, but your werent sure if you were imagining it. Did Niall see you as more than just a friend?

As the first chords rang out, Niall’s grip on his guitar tightened. He was expecting you to walk over to him to sing the song together like you always did no matter where you were instead, he watched as you gravitated toward Harry at center stage, your voice harmonizing beautifully with his. You were singing his lyrics, his feelings, with Harry. A knot tightened in his stomach. His emotions taking over and being conveyed through the music once again. His fingers pressed harder into the strings, and before he even realized it, he was adjusting the volume on his amp. The sound of his guitar swelled, drowning out the vocals as his mind tried to drown out the thoughts of you and Harry.

You exchanged confused glances with Harry next to you as you struggle to be heard over the aggressive strumming. Louis shot Niall a questioning but knowing look, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The song ended, and the band moved on, with you making your exit off stage yet it left a lingering sense of confusion hanging in the air. The show continued seamlessly, the audience none the wiser to the small tension brewing on stage.

You had brushed the incident off yet throughout the night Niall had seemed to escape your company, making excuses. You knew something was wrong so after the afterparty settled down, you found yourself standing outside Niall’s hotel room. You hesitated before knocking softly. The door swung open, revealing a disheveled Niall. His blue eyes were tired, but there was something else there, something raw. “Hey” you said gently. “Mind if I come in?” He stepped aside wordlessly, letting you in. The air between them was thick with unspoken words. You had perched yourself on the edge of the couch, watching him as he ran a hand through his hair. “Okay” you started taking a deep breath to try to navigate where to start “what was that about tonight? The guitar thing?” Niall let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked anywhere but at her. “I dunno” he mumbled. “Just got a little carried away in the excitement, I guess”

You tilted your head, unconvinced. “Niall…” He groaned, shoving his head into his hands before slowly, finally meeting her gaze. “It was the song, Y/N” he admitted, voice low. “I wrote it. About you”.Silence hung between them, your breath hitching being the only sound in the room. Confusion took over you. You couldn’t process that he made such a deep, beautiful song about..you?

“You… wrote that about me?” You echoed, as if saying it aloud would make it more real.“Yeah” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And then you were singing it… with Harry. At center stage. I just..” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Every emotion running through his body “It drove me mad” You stared at him, your heart pounding and pupils blown wide “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Didn’t think I had a chance” You didn’t know what to say. All this time, you didn’t consider the possibility that your thoughts of Niall reciprocating your feelings could be real. You knew he had always looked at you just a little differently but you didn’t think he had been holding onto feelings he thought he couldn’t share. Especially when you shared them this whole time.

You took a tentative step forward, closing the space between them. “You’re an idiot, Horan” you murmured a soft laugh escaping your lips before reaching up to press a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. He stiffened in surprise before melting into your touch, his arms wrapping around you as if he’d been waiting forever to do so. And maybe he had. When you pulled away, you smiled. “Next time, just tell me, okay?” He grinned, his fingers lacing with hers. “Yeah. Next time” He dropped his head to the crook of your neck with a dopey, love sick smile across his face. He could finally relax.

-

Thank you for reading!!

[midnightwritingsessions]

Writings in progress:

Since I lack motivation right now I hope this can keep me somewhat motivated and organised to actually write! Sorry that these are all untitled the title is usually the last thing I come up with!! Not in any particular order and will try to keep this up to date. Will be removed once posted

-Quiet desires: The shyest member of the bau is given an assignment to seduce a man at a charity gala all while the team watch her, especially Spencer.

-untitled: You, taylor swift and your best friend were a famous trio. You had each dated a member of one direction back in the day all three relationships eventually ending yet your the only one that’s still seemingly hung up on that relationship. (Coming within this week)

-Domestic bliss: You and Billie spend most of your time in your own little bubble. Short moments of yours and billies relationship that can only happen when your both completely comfortable.

-Untitled: You are the sixth member of one direction and have the closest bond to Niall. You did everything together always getting into messes. What happens when your regular break together in the tour bus away from everything turns into something more.

-untitled: Louis comforts you when you’re on your period

-Untitled: You and Louis sneak into each others hotel rooms at night

-Untitled: You have a health scare and Louis panics leading to a lot of fluffy reassurance

-Untitled: You bring yours and Louis’s kids aswell as his sisters to watch his concert when he was only expecting you. He spots you all in the crowd and becomes slightly emotional

-Untitled: louis reassures you in every way kissing all your insecurities away

-Untitled: You buy Louis flowers when he’s having a rough week. You don’t expect much from the gesture but he’s never received flowers before and he’s very touched

-Untitled: American reader surprising Louis by visiting one of his English shows

-Untitled: You struggle with a loss and Louis comforts you

-Untitled: After being unlucky in love many times you struggle to let Louis in but Louis won’t let you push him away

-Untitled: You and Louis have a tickle fight

[midnightwritingsessions]

nothing, and i mean NOTHING, compares to joining a new fandom and reading through all the ____ x reader tags. it’s akin to opening gifts on christmas or recieving a package in the mail. actually, scratch that; it’s th equivalent of ascending to the heavens

[midnightwritingsessions]

idk if you received it or not but i sent u few days ago idea for long oneshot/fic u dont have to write it ofc, but im js wondering if u received it!!

Hi! If it’s the one with Taylor swift and Louis in yes I did receive it :) I really love the request and am working on writing it thank you so much for the amazing request <3

[midnightwritingsessions]

hi! (: i have been reading your writing for awhile and absolutely love it! i’m sorry if you don’t allow this you can delete this ask if you don’t but since you’re a louis girl i just wanted to throw my louis multi-chapter wattpad fic to you in case you might like it. i barely posted it today and if you do read it i hope you enjoy it

https://www.wattpad.com/story/385607932-disasterology-l-t

Thank you for reading my stuff!! ❤️ And thank you so much for introducing more Louis fics into my life!! Especially your own work <3 (I will be reading it as soon as I get a chance!!) I probably don’t have enough followers to bring much attention to it but I hope anyone who sees this post checks it out for you!! 🫶🫶

[midnightwritingsessions]

I hate how Caseoh doing a stream with quackity has sent me back to 2020! Like the stream was a few weeks ago and all I still want to watch is Minecraft content!?! Welcome back my obsession with quackity and Minecraft 💀🥲

Sorry I had to get it off my chest because I don’t talk to anyone I knew when I was obsessed with dsmp

[midnightwritingsessions]

Cigarettes and conversations

Summary: After having a bad day a stranger comforts you at the bar. This stranger somehow becomes a big part of your life.

Requested

Masterlist

A/n: working the 6 days before Christmas in retail is not for the weak I swear 🥲 I’m sorry for not being active but I should be back now my hours at work are going back down

Sorry it’s quite short!

-

The pub was buzzing with life, laughter, and music spilling out through the slightly cracked door. Inside, your friends were chatting away, entirely immersed in their conversation. But you couldn’t focus tonight, not with the weight of the day sitting squarely on your shoulders. So here you were, standing just outside in the crisp evening air, your coat pulled tight against the chill. A cigarette dangled from your fingers, glowing faintly in the dim light of the streetlamp. You took a slow drag, trying to let the nicotine calm the storm brewing in your head.

“You alright there, love?” The voice came from a few feet away, startling you slightly. You turned your head and immediately froze. It was him. Louis Tomlinson, standing casually with his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. His blue eyes held a hint of concern, his head tilted just enough to make it clear he was genuinely asking. You blinked, unsure what to say. “Uh… yeah, I’m fine. Just needed a breather” you said while pointing to behind you to the pub. He nodded slowly, his gaze flickering to your cigarette. “Mind if I join you?”. “Sure” you said, your voice coming out more casual than you felt.

Louis stepped closer, pulling out his own pack and lighting up with practiced ease. He leaned against the wall beside you, his movements relaxed but deliberate. For a moment, the two of you smoked in silence, the sound of distant chatter filling the space between. “Long day?” he asked finally, breaking the quiet. You exhaled a puff of smoke, glancing sideways at him. “You could say that”. He chuckled softly. “I could tell. You’ve got that look about you”. “What look?”. “You know” he said, gesturing vaguely with his cigarette. “The ‘I’d rather be anywhere else right now’ look”.

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, and Louis’s lips curved into a small smile. “Am I wrong?” he asked. “No” you admitted, shaking your head. “You’ve got me there”. He gave a small hum of acknowledgment, taking another drag. “Well, at least you’re out here. Better than bottling it all up, yeah?” You nodded, glancing down at your shoes. “What about you? Why are you out here instead of inside with your mates?”

Louis grinned. “Maybe I just had a feeling someone out here could use some company”. The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for the first time that evening, you felt the tension in your chest ease ever so slightly.

Over the next half hour, the two of you chatted about everything and nothing. Louis had a way of drawing you out, his playful banter balancing perfectly with his moments of genuine interest. You found yourself laughing at his quick wit, forgetting for a while why you’d even needed to escape in the first place. When you finally stubbed out your long gone cigarette, Louis did the same, turning to you with a curious look. “So” he said, “you heading back inside?” You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to dive back into the noise and energy of the pub. Louis seemed to pick up on your hesitation, because he added, “Or we could stay out here a bit longer. No pressure”. You smiled, grateful for his understanding. “Let’s stay. It’s quieter”. “Good choice” he said, his eyes twinkling.

That night turned out to be the beginning of something neither of you could have predicted. Over the weeks that followed, you and Louis kept in touch. He started texting you casually little jokes, updates about his day, or random thoughts that made you laugh out loud. Before you knew it, those texts turned into phone calls, and those phone calls turned into plans to meet up. At first, it was just friendly, grabbing coffee, taking a walk in the park, sharing another cigarette outside a different pub. But with each meeting, you couldn’t help but notice the way Louis looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, or the way his voice softened just slightly when he said your name. You hoped that you weren’t imagining these things and that maybe in the not so distant future he might act on whatever it is he’s feeling. Looking back you were now more grateful for the bad day you had, never imagining that it could have lead you to something so special in the future.

[midnightwritingsessions]

could you write louis and reader smoking together outside a pub because he saw that reader was having a hard time over something and then they became friends or whatever 🙏🏻 lowkey similar to ur other fic but im obsessed with it and i love how you write the way that he would talk because you don't really see that in fics

-

I love the writing Louis’s speech because we have similar accents, I restrain from making the accent clear in the writing tho because I hate dropping so many letters when writing but apparently not when talking 💀.

I’m sorry this took so long and I really don’t think it’s my best work! Plus it’s quite short but your always welcome to send any other requests ❤️

Request here

[midnightwritingsessions]

I need more glinda fics! (And elphaba) please send requests for them!!

[midnightwritingsessions]

The freaky Friday episode

Summary: On the latest episode of Wandavision you and Wanda cause chaos while trapped in each others bodies in a freaky Friday situation.

Masterlist

Requested

-

The familiar static whir of the television echoed as the episode began, the retro WandaVision intro playing with a cheesy jingle and pastel title card: "The Swap of the Century!" The screen transitioned to a vibrant 1980s-style living room, complete with shag carpeting and bold geometric patterns. Wanda Maximoff sat cross-legged on the couch, a mischievous smirk on her face. Across from her, Y/N L/N, Wanda’s girlfriend and partner in this perfect sitcom world, lounged in a hot pink tracksuit, flipping through a brightly colored magazine.

~

“It’s ridiculous” You muttered, shaking your head at the magazine. “How do they expect us to achieve these hairstyles? Do they want us to defy gravity?” Wanda chuckled. “Gravity’s overrated” She waved her fingers, a flash of red sparking in her palm. "I could give you the perfect perm in five seconds flat”. You gave her a mock glare. “You’re not touching my hair again, Maximoff. Last time you did, I looked like I stuck my head in a cotton candy machine”. Wanda laughed, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. “Alright, alright. But don’t come crying to me when the mall hairdressers mess it up”.

As Wanda clicked the remote, a strange shimmer rippled through the room. You froze mid-turn, your magazine slipping from your hands. Wanda’s smirk faltered as her vision blurred. And then-

~

Cut to commercial break.

~

When the episode returned, the scene was chaos.“WHAT THE-WANDA?!” You were standing in front of the living room mirror, only it wasn’t your reflection staring back. It was Wanda. Her fiery red hair, her sharp cheekbones, everything- but with your unmistakable wide-eyed panic behind them.

Across the room, Wanda- now wearing your face- stumbled backward, holding onto the couch for balance. “What did you do?!” You, in Wanda’s body, exclaimed. “Me?! This wasn’t me!” Wanda shouted back, though her voice sounded strange to her own ears. She raised her hands-Your hands-and gasped. “Oh no…”. “Did you cast some kind of spell?” Y/N demanded, pacing back and forth. “I didn’t cast anything! Why do you always assume it’s magic?” Wanda huffed, crossing her arms. “Because it’s always magic, Wanda!”

The two women stared at each other for a moment, their identical wide-eyed expressions creating a bizarre mirror image. Finally, Y/N groaned. “Okay, okay, let’s just… stay calm. How do we fix this?” Wanda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose (or rather, yours). “We’ll figure it out. But for now, we need to blend in. We can’t let anyone know something’s wrong”. “Blend in?” Y/N raised a brow. “You’re saying I need to act like you?”. “And I need to act like you” Wanda said, grimacing. The two women groaned in unison.

The rest of the episode played out like a comedy of errors. Wanda, trapped in Y/N’s body, struggled with simple things like eating breakfast without using magic. She absentmindedly waved a hand to bring the coffee pot over, only for it to crash to the floor. “Wanda!” Y/N hissed, trying to keep their nosy neighbor Agnes from noticing. “Force of habit!” Wanda whispered back.

Meanwhile, during your time in Wanda’s body, you discovered the immense responsibility of controlling chaos magic. “Okay, it’s just like riding a bike” you muttered to yourself as you tried to magically clean up the broken coffee pot. You waved her hand, and suddenly the pot turned into a live chicken. “What did you do?!” Wanda exclaimed, watching the chicken flap wildly around the kitchen. “It’s harder than it looks!” You shot back and glared at Wanda, who looks like you.

The hijinks didn’t stop there. Wanda had to attend a PTA meeting at the local school, where she struggled to keep up with the other moms’ small talk, while you had to keep the illusion of Wanda’s powers going during a surprise talent show hosted by the kids of Westview. At one point, the two of you ran into Agnes, who seemed suspiciously delighted by their odd behavior. “Well, don’t you two seem… different today”she said with a sly smile. Wanda and Y/N shared a panicked glance before replying in unison: “Everything’s fine!”

By the end of the day, the two women collapsed onto the couch, utterly exhausted. “I don’t know how you do it” you admitted, massaging your temples (or rather, Wanda’s). “All the magic, the pretending… It’s a lot”. “And I don’t know how you do it” Wanda said with a tired smile. “Just being… normal. It’s harder than it looks”. You shared a laugh, leaning against each other. “Do you think we’ll switch back soon?” You asked. Wanda shrugged. “If this is a spell, it’ll probably wear off on its own. Sitcom logic, right?” You groaned. “Next time, can we just have a normal day in this sitcom world?” Wanda smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

As the credits rolled, the two women continued to bicker playfully, their love and partnership shining through even in the midst of chaos. The screen faded to black with one final soundbite: “Wanda, if you ever swap bodies with me again, I’m hiding all the coffee pots”.

[midnightwritingsessions]

Hi, how are You? Hope this makes sense and sorry in advance If it doesn't.

It's a Wanda request set during wandavision but instead of Vision Is with Fem Reader, where one of the "episodes" is based of a freaky friday situation where Wanda and Y/N swap bodies for a day causing trouble. Not a smut one, more like a funny Fluff please.

Thank You and have a Nice day.

I love this request it makes perfect sense don’t worry!! ❤️ I hope you like it!

Request here

[midnightwritingsessions]

TikTok troubles

Summary: When Lottie convinces you to join her in a TikTok prank, louis jumps into save you from Lottie unknowingly becoming the target.

A/N: thank you for 100 followers on this account!!

Masterlist

Requested

-

You hadn’t expected to spend your Saturday caught up in one of Lottie Tomlinson’s TikTok schemes, but here you were, sitting in her airy kitchen while she worked out the logistics of a new video. Being close with Louis meant spending time with his family, and luckily, you and Lottie got on like a house on fire. "Alright" Lottie said, setting her phone up on a tripod. Her mischievous grin gave you pause. "I’ve got an idea, but you have to trust me".

“That’s.. concerning” you teased, narrowing your eyes at her. “It’s harmless” she promised, brushing off your hesitation with a wave of her hand. “It’s that TikTok trend where I act like I’m being mean to you in front of Louis, just to see how he reacts. It’ll be brilliant, he’s so protective of you”. You laughed, already picturing Louis’s reaction. “He’ll probably pout like a child afterwards”. “Exactly” Lottie said, clapping her hands together. “It’ll be perfect to torture my brother. You in?” You thought about it for a second before nodding. “Alright, but if he sulks too much, you’re dealing with him”. Lottie grinned, pulling you into a side hug. “Deal”.

Ten minutes later, Louis wandered into the kitchen, fresh from his afternoon outing. His hair was slightly tousled, his cheeks pink from the crisp air. He smiled when he saw you, crossing the room to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Alright, what are you two up to?” he asked, his tone light but suspicious. “Just hanging out” Lottie said casually, grabbing her phone to start the recording. Louis raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right. You two hanging out always ends up with me involved somehow”. You shot him an innocent smile. “You love it”.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, leaning against the counter as Lottie aimed her phone discreetly. She gave you a subtle nod, signaling for you to start. “Honestly, Y/N” Lottie began, her tone suddenly sharp as she turned to you. “I don’t know why you picked that dress. It’s not really doing you any favors”.

You blinked, caught off guard despite knowing it was coming but immediately got into character. “What’s wrong with it?”. “It’s just… I don’t know, a bit much, don’t you think? Like, trying too hard” she said with a shrug. Louis’s eyes darted to Lottie, then back to you questioning lotties unusual harshness towards you. His brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, his lips pressing into a line. “I think it’s fine” you replied casually, playing along. “Fine?” Lottie scoffed. “Come on, Y/N. Fine isn’t good enough. You should try a bit harder. Maybe something that fits better?”

Louis’s posture stiffened, his blue eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. “Lottie…” he said, a warning in his voice. “What?” Lottie said innocently, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’m just being honest. Someone has to tell her”. “Well, maybe don’t be so harsh about your opinions” Louis snapped. Lottie ignored him, turning back to you with a raised eyebrow. “And honestly, I don’t know why you bother wearing makeup like that. It’s a bit overdone, don’t you think? You don’t need that much”. “Lottie” Louis interrupted, his voice sharper this time. “You’re crossing a line”.

“Oh, relax” she said, waving him off. “I’m just trying to help her. Constructive criticism and all that”. “Constructive?” Louis scoffed, stepping closer to you. “That wasn’t constructive; that was rude”. Lottie smirked, but Louis didn’t notice as he turned to you, his hand brushing your arm. “You look beautiful” he said firmly, his tone softening. “Ignore her”. Before you could respond, Lottie pressed on. “I mean, maybe if she just did something different with her hair-”

“That’s enough” Louis said, his voice low but firm. He stepped fully in front of you now, shielding you as if you needed protection. His blue eyes flashed with irritation as he glared at his sister. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve never spoken to her like this before”. “It’s not that serious, Louis-”.“Not that serious?” he cut her off, his voice rising slightly. “You’re being horrible to her for no reason. If you’ve got a problem, say it to me, not to her”. At this, Lottie finally burst into laughter, unable to keep up the act any longer. “Oh my god, Louis” she gasped, doubling over. “You’re so easy to wind up”.

That was it- Lottie broke into laughter, doubling over as she waved her hand in surrender. You couldn’t help but join in, the sight of Louis’s confused and slightly affronted expression too much to handle. You let out a laugh too, though yours was more nervous as you placed a hand on Louis’s back. “It was a prank” you explained quickly. “She was filming for TikTok. It’s that trend where someone pretends to be mean to see how their sibling reacts”. Louis blinked, clearly stunned. His gaze flicked between you and Lottie before he narrowed his eyes. “Are you joking?”

Lottie, still laughing, nodded and picked up her phone to stop the recording. “You were brilliant, by the way. So protective. The internet’s going to love this”. “I’m so glad I could entertain everyone” Louis muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He turned to you, his pout already forming. “And you went along with this?”. “I didn’t want to” you said with a grin, wrapping your arms around his waist. “But I knew you’d react just like that. You were amazing”. Louis’s pout deepened, though his arms came up to hold you anyway. “Don’t encourage her. Now she’s going to prank me every chance she gets”.

“Worth it” Lottie said from across the kitchen, still grinning as she reviewed the footage. Louis sighed dramatically, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re lucky I love you” he mumbled. “I know” you teased, pressing a kiss to his nose. “And I love you too, my knight in shining armour”. His lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile breaking through his sulk. “You’d better”.

“You were perfect” you added, kissing him softly. “Alright” he said, his smile finally winning out. “But no more pranks. I mean it”. Lottie snorted. “Sure, sure. No more pranks” she said, clearly lying. Louis groaned, but his hold on you tightened, his voice low in your ear. “At least next time, warn me, yeah?” You laughed, leaning into him as Lottie’s giggles filled the room.

[midnightwritingsessions]

Would you be willing to write about a TikTok trend? I was thinking about Louis Tomlinson and his sister because she is an influencer. Maybe you could write a fanfiction about that trend that was popular where maybe Lottie is “mean” to y/n in front of Louis and she’s recording and he gets defensive? I feel like it might be unrealistic if y/n was “mean” to Lottie lol

I live reading these sorts of fics! I’m so glad I got a request for one <3 I think I slightly changed the trend I’m not sure? I think they usually ask questions or somehting idk?? Anyway I hope you enjoy it!! ❤️❤️

Request here

[midnightwritingsessions]

Kinda wanna write something where it’s just a famous reader and Taylor swift being besties. - in interviews, going to each others shows, etc idk would you read it if it’s platonic?? Any specific plots you want to see?

[midnightwritingsessions]

Yours and only yours

Summary: While on a date with Louis you run into your ex and Louis doesn’t like the way he’s looking at you. [1.4k]

Masterlist

Requested

-

The evening had been perfect so far. The two of you were seated at your favorite cozy Italian restaurant, tucked into a corner booth that offered just enough privacy. The low hum of conversation and the gentle clink of glasses filled the air, but all Louis could hear was your laugh as you teased him about his persistent refusal to try pineapple on pizza. “It’s unnatural, love” he said with a mock grimace, his blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “Fruit doesn’t belong on pizza. End of discussion”. You rolled your eyes playfully, resting your chin on your hand as you gazed at him. “You’re so stubborn. One day, I’ll win this argument”. He smirked, leaning closer. “Not a chance, but I do love your optimism”.

The waiter brought over your plates, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics as you enjoyed your meal. Everything felt easy, warm, and just… right. That is, until someone approached your table. “Y/N?” You froze mid-laugh, your smile faltering slightly as you turned to see the voice’s owner. Standing there was someone Louis instantly recognized from the stories you’d told. Your ex, Jake.

“Jake” you said, your voice a little tighter than usual. You offered a polite smile, clearly caught off guard. “Hi. It’s been a while”. Jake returned the smile, his eyes lighting up in a way that immediately set Louis’s nerves on edge. “Yeah, it has. You look incredible, by the way. I almost didn’t recognize you”. Louis stiffened in his seat, his jaw tightening as he instinctively moved his hand to rest on your knee under the table. His thumb stroked over your leg in a steady rhythm, his presence grounding, but his posture had gone from relaxed to visibly on guard. “Thanks” you replied politely, a little thrown by his sudden enthusiasm. “Uh, this is Louis, by the way. My boyfriend”.

Jake barely glanced at Louis, his focus entirely on you. “Boyfriend, huh? Lucky guy”He grinned, his eyes lingering on you a little too long. “You always did have great taste, Y/N”. Louis’s hand tightened slightly on your leg, the shift so subtle you almost didn’t notice. “Cheers for that” Louis said coolly, his voice cutting through the moment like a blade. Jake seemed unfazed, leaning a little closer to you. “So, how’ve you been? Still into photography? I always remember you had such an eye for it”. You smiled politely, not entirely catching the way Jake’s tone dripped with something more than friendly interest. “I still dabble here and there, yeah. What about you? How’s life been treating you?”

“Oh, you know, just working, traveling. Nothing too exciting. Though running into you might be the highlight of my year” Jake said, his grin widening. Louis’s blue eyes darkened, and his hand stopped its soft motion on your knee, gripping it firmly instead. You glanced at him briefly, only to find his jaw set and his lips pressed into a thin line. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner” Jake said, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he leaned against the edge of the table, his gaze fixed firmly on you. “But maybe we could catch up sometime. You know, for old times’ sake” he threw a wink at you which twisted your stomach.

Your brow furrowed slightly, the implication behind his words finally starting to sink in. “I don’t think that’d be appropriate, Jake” you said, your tone firmer now. You glanced at Louis, whose icy stare was locked on Jake, daring him to say another word. Jake raised his hands in mock surrender, a smirk still playing on his lips. “Alright, alright. Just thought I’d ask, test my luck invade he was treating you right. Well, it was nice seeing you, Y/N. And… Louis, was it? Nice meeting you.”

Louis didn’t respond, his jaw clenched so tight you were surprised he didn’t crack a tooth. Jake lingered for a moment longer before finally walking away, leaving behind a palpable tension that settled over the table like a storm cloud. “Louis” you said softly, watching as he picked at the edge of his napkin, his usual playful energy replaced with a brooding silence. “Talk to me”.“There’s nothing to talk about” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the table. “Louis” you tried again, reaching for his hand. He pulled away gently, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. “So that’s Jake, huh?”. “Yes” you said, your voice even. “But it’s not what you’re thinking at all” the thought alone nearly made you shiver.

His blue eyes snapped up to meet yours, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. “Not what I’m thinking? He was practically undressing you with his eyes, Y/N. And you didn’t even seem to notice”. You blinked, taken aback. “I didn’t- Louis, I wasn’t trying to encourage him. I was just being polite”.

“Polite” Louis repeated, his tone tight. “Love, he wasn’t just saying hello. He was flirting with you. Right in front of me”. Your stomach sank as his words hit you, the pieces finally clicking into place. “I didn’t realise” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I wasn’t paying attention to him like that. I was too busy thinking about you”.

Louis’s expression softened slightly, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “I know you weren’t. It’s not you I’m upset with. It’s him. The way he looked at you, like he still had a chance…” He trailed off, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “It just got under my skin”. You reached across the table, placing your hand over his. “Louis, you’re the one I’m here with. You’re the one I love. Jake doesn’t matter”. He hesitated, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, love. I just… I hate the thought of anyone thinking they could take you away from me”. “No one can, especially not him” you said firmly, squeezing his hand. “Jake is my past. You’re my present and my future. There’s no competition”.

By the time you got home, Louis’s mood had improved slightly, but the unease still lingered. He went straight to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and leaning against the counter with a sigh. “Alright” you said, stepping into the kitchen and crossing your arms. “Let’s get this out in the open”. Louis glanced at you, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “You don’t let anything go, do you,”. “Not when it comes to you” you replied, moving closer. “Talk to me, Louis. I don’t want this hanging over us”. He set the glass down and ran a hand through his hair, his frustration giving way to something more vulnerable. “It’s just… you’re everything to me, Y/N. And sometimes I look at you and think, ‘What did I do to deserve her?’ And then some idiot like Jake comes along, acting like he’s got a chance, and it just… it messes with my head”.

Your heart ached at his words, and you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Louis, listen to me. You don’t have to feel that way. I’m with you because I want to be, because I love you. Jake can flirt all he wants- it doesn’t change the way I feel about you”. He looked down at you, his blue eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. “You mean that?”. “Every word” you said, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, his arms wrapping tightly around you as if letting go wasn’t an option. When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile playing at his lips.

“I’m sorry” he murmured. “For letting him get to me. I know I shouldn’t have”. “You’re allowed to feel how you feel” you said softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. “But next time, talk to me about it, okay? We’re a team”. He nodded, his smile growing a little more confident. “Alright. No more sulking. I promise”. You laughed, leaning into him. “Good, because I don’t think I could handle another moody Louis Tomlinson dinner date”.

“Oi” he said with a mock scowl, tickling your sides until you squealed. As the laughter faded, Louis pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thanks, love” he said softly. “For always knowing what to say”. You smiled against his chest, your heart full. “That’s what I’m here for”. And in that moment, you knew there was no one else you’d rather navigate life’s ups and downs with than him.

[midnightwritingsessions]

Would you be willing to write a request about Louis Tomlinson getting jealous? Maybe him and the reader go out on a date and her ex approaches her to say hello and he does not handle it well 

I love a good jealousy fic!! Thank you for the request and I hope you like it!! ❤️ <3

Request here