#i had some rude encounters and some very lovely encounters with harries today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tobesolonely · 3 years

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aura

A/n: Hi everyone! this is a tad bit different from the things i usually write (I think) as i wanted to switch things up a little bit. I’m kinda nervous to post it so pleaseee please let me know your thoughts! As always please enjoy!! thank you to everyone who beta read for me btw :)

summary: witch!y/n can see auras and harry is blue

my ko-fi! thank you :)

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Y/N has always been able to easily empathize with others. She could see others' emotional energy— their aura— and this made it easy to know exactly what they were feeling. Not only could she see auras, but she could take away anyone’s emotional turmoil just by touching them.

One of Y/N’s most vivid memories from her childhood was when her best friend came to school one morning in tears over the death of her pet fish. When Y/N leaned in to give her a hug, she felt an overwhelming heaviness overtake her body as soon as they made contact. Upon pulling away from the hug, her friend’s demeanor was completely changed. Instead of being sad over the death of her fish, she was able to instead reflect on all the good times she had with him. Her friend was fine for the rest of the day, but Y/N was left grieving over a fish she never even owned.

Y/N went home that day, confused. How was it that her friend was so easily cheered up just from a hug? Was that all it took for Y/N to make others feel better? If that was the case, she decided she wanted to be a ‘Professional Hugger’ when she grew up. As time went on, Y/N learned that she didn’t even have to hug others to rid them of their mental pain. The slightest touch from her instantly made anyone she came into contact with feel better.

It took a few months for Y/N to realize it was her touch that healed others. Sure, that mental anguish then became hers to carry, but how many people could say they could heal someone just by touching them? If that was the price she had to pay, then so be it. From that point on Y/N made it a point to help anyone she could.

As Y/N got older and her skill with this power grew, she learned to redirect the painful energy elsewhere so she didn’t always have to sit with it. It worked some of the time, but it was something she was still learning to master. Y/N wasn’t always successful in doing this, though. While whoever Y/N touched went about their day feeling great, she would experience their emotions so intensely that she felt as if she were coming down with a cold. Y/N dealt with it in silence because the way she saw it if she was blessed with this gift, she had to be selfless and put it to good use. Y/N was a firm believer that all the good she put out would come back to her in another life at least ten times over.

It was difficult for Y/N not to touch everyone she saw whose aura reflected sadness, anxiety, or worry. She tried to stick to only doing this to people she knew, but there were some instances where Y/N encountered someone who was just so clearly unhappy that she could not help herself.

For example, right now.

Y/N immediately sensed this stranger’s emotional turmoil as soon as they entered the space. It was late afternoon on a Wednesday. Y/N had the longest, most physically demanding day at work and the last thing she wanted to do was go home and cook. Even though she had just gone grocery shopping two days prior, she stopped by her favorite Thai place on the way home. Y/N was in the middle of ordering when their presence quite literally took her breath away, causing her to stumble over her words.

She turned to look over her shoulder at the person who was so greatly distracting her and locked eyes with the most pitiful looking stranger she’d seen all day. The first thing Y/N noticed about him was his hair. It was unruly, like he had just gotten out of bed. She also noticed how tall he was–– if he had just a couple more inches on him, he would’ve had to crane his neck to enter the establishment. Upon making eye contact with Y/N the man quickly looked down at his shoes, twiddling his thumbs. His aura was a mixture of indigo and dark red when Y/N looked at him. Anger and sensitivity.

“Do you still need a moment?”

The voice of the cashier breaks Y/N out of her analytical thoughts of the stranger standing a few feet behind her. She nods, re-situating her purse on her left shoulder.

“Uh, please. He can go ahead if he’s ready.” Y/N gestures behind her and the cashier nods, asking the man behind her if he was ready to order yet. He steps up to the front counter, eyes trained on his feet as if he couldn’t walk without watching every step he took.

His energy was intense and Y/N wasn’t sure how much longer she could ignore it. Something about him was reeling her in— his aura wasn’t looking too bright at the moment, but she could just tell it usually was. She felt compelled to take away his pain, and she hadn’t spoken a single word to him yet. While he was placing his order, Y/N internally debated on whether or not she should “accidentally” graze his arm when they walked past each other. Would that be weird? What if she wasn’t able to redirect his negative energy elsewhere? While she did love to help whenever she could, some people’s emotional baggage was just a little too heavy. She didn’t know him. For all she knew, he could be a killer!

He turns back around once he’s finished ordering and stands by the entrance, out of Y/N’s way. The pair lock eyes again as Y/N makes her way back to the counter to order. Once again, he quickly looked away from her. Y/N’s trying to ignore the annoying nagging feeling she gets when she wants to help someone, but it’s unrelenting. She makes up her mind that once she’s done, she will approach this stranger to get a better read on his emotions.

“Nice weather we’re having today, isn’t it?” She cringes at her choice of a conversation starter and hopes he doesn’t notice. Y/N folds her hands across her chest, forcing herself not to reach out to him. He nods.

“Lovely.”

The tone of his voice causes Y/N to wince. It was sharp and short. He was clearly not in the mood to converse. Although Y/N knows this, she continues on.

“I love this place. I think I come here at least twice a month–– what’s your go-to order?”

The man turns to fully face Y/N this time, his aura now more red than blue. He was beginning to grow annoyed with her small talk.

“Green curry and stir-fried vegetables.” He doesn’t ask Y/N for her order, so she takes this as her signal to stop speaking to him. The bell above the door jingles, signaling another persons’ entry. Their aura is shining gold–– Y/N would not have to interfere.

Y/N moves away from this man, deciding not to speak to him anymore. She was getting better at accepting the fact that no matter how much she wanted to, it was impossible to help everyone. As he collected his food from the front and turned to leave, not sparing Y/N another glance, she silently hoped that whatever was wrong with this man would not last.

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Harry was in a funk. There was no denying it, and he was over feeling so terribly. He hadn’t been feeling like himself for far too long. It seemed like everyone wanted something from him when he had nothing left to give. Jeff had set unrealistic deadlines, his mother was upset with him for not calling enough, and he was exhausted from constantly traveling and waking up in a new time zone. Harry needed a break.

Harry’s mind wandered to the pretty girl in the Thai place. She seemed inquisitive. She was very curious about his go-to order, and she was standing a little too close for his comfort. Harry was surprised when she didn’t ask him for a picture. He wasn’t trying to be cocky, but nearly everyone he met asked him for a picture–– he was Harry Styles. However, it was almost like this girl didn’t know who he was. She didn’t seem starstruck in the slightest.

While Harry was waiting for the light to change, it dawned on him that he may have been a tad bit rude to her. He noticed her happy expression drop when he shut her down, but he didn’t feel like talking. He liked to move from place to place as quickly as he could in the off chance he got recognized and it started circulating on Twitter. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little bad. She was sweet like honey–– or so it seemed. In their brief interaction, she bought him comfort.

Harry wanted to turn back around and go back to the restaurant to check if she was still there. What would be the point, though? She would most likely be long gone by the time he made it back over there, as she did order immediately after him. Harry’s torn out of his thoughts when the cars behind him start honking, and he realizes the light must’ve turned green. He decides not to think about the confrontation anymore.

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The world works in mysterious ways.

Y/N was sure she’d never encounter the grumpy man from her favorite Thai restaurant again but yet here she was in another situation that involved take-out and him. His aura was dark indigo this time. Stress? Isolation? Y/N didn’t know, but she wanted to help him. In her eyes, there was no reason for anyone to be down this badly. She just wanted everyone to be as happy as she (almost) always was! She takes a deep breath before approaching him.

“Hi. How are you?”

Harry was absorbed in a text conversation involving his manager and stylist when a sweet, familiar voice interrupts him.

“I’m okay, thank you. Yourself? Also, we’ve spoken before, I believe.”

She nods, a troubled look on her face. “We have. At the Thai place. How are you, though? Really.”

Harry was beginning to find her a bit strange (but still incredibly gorgeous, even more than he did before now that he got a good look at her face). Why was she so concerned with how he was feeling? Was she going to ask him for a picture or not? As Harry opened his mouth to again tell her he was fine, the desire to tell her how he was really feeling came over him. So he did.

“Honestly? ‘M exhausted. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling and my manager wants a lot from me. I think I jus’ need a break.”

He radiated red. Anxiety? Anger?

“What do you do for work?” Now it was Harry’s turn to wear the troubled look.

“I don’t mean this to be rude, but you’re serious?”

Y/N nods, reaching out to place her hand on his shoulder. Just as quickly as she touches him she removes her hand, and she’s almost certain he didn’t even feel her touch. She notices him let out a visible sigh of relief, his aura changing from a red to a pale yellow. Optimism. Positivity. This causes her to let out her own sigh of relief.

“You’re feeling better! That’s great.” Y/N was not able to redirect his negative energy as the restaurant was too crowded and she didn’t want to risk putting it on anyone else, and she was feeling him. He was stressed, overworked, and anxious. Y/N just wanted to go home and nap, no longer in the mood for the food she just ordered.

Harry decided she was definitely odd but in the most endearing way possible. “How do you know I’m feeling better? Wait, am I feeling better?” Y/N watches as he works through his emotions, his aura ranging in color before settling back on pale yellow.

“Are you?” Y/N knows the answer to this of course, but she wants to hear him say it.

“I think I am. I’ve been feelin’ horrible all week but saying how I felt out loud to you automatically made me feel better. Kind of weird, but I won’t question it. Thank you for asking…,” Harry scrunches his nose, a distasteful expression on his face. “I don’t think ‘ve gotten your name yet.”

Y/N gives him a small, forced smile. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll be seeing you around, I think.” Before Harry can tell her his name she’s gone.

And she didn’t even grab her food.

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Y/N felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks. How one person could carry around all this emotional baggage was beyond her, but she wanted it gone. Immediately.

There was a spell Y/N kept on hand for times like these. Times when she couldn’t redirect the negative energy before it got to her. Times when it was just too much to carry. Y/N had regretfully done this spell more times than she could count and was an expert at reciting it from memory. The vile was open and ready to capture the negative energy that would shortly be leaving her.

Y/N works quickly to complete the process, unsure of what time her roommate would come barreling through the door. She had caught her doing things she deemed strange one too many times (she thought her roommate almost figured out who she really was when she caught her having a full-on conversation with her cat, Sapphire, once). She was beginning to run out of excuses for her “unusual” behavior. Y/N mutters under her breath, willing the energy to exit her.

She notices right away when it leaves her. She feels lighter— like her usual self again. She guides the energy into the vile and immediately seals it, hurrying into her room to lock it away. Y/N kept a box in her closet that she only opened if she had to. It was her Pandora’s Box, in a way. Nothing bad would be released into the world if she opened the box, but if the viles’ were opened then the bad energy she trapped would be re-released into the world, finding its way back to their original owners.

Y/N feels like she can breathe again once she bolts the box. She hoped that whatever he was doing, wherever this man was, he was still feeling okay.

Also, for his sake and everyone’s around him, she hoped he got a break.

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Y/N was on Harry’s mind.

Something about her was magnetic. He wished he’d gotten more information about her than only her name, but she left him in such a hurry he could hardly process their conversation. Harry felt like a madman! He searched ‘Y/F/N Y/L/N’ on all social media platforms, but he couldn’t find her anywhere. It was dumb luck that he had ran into her twice in such a short time span, and he hoped good things happened in threes and he would see her again.

He was almost certain that Jeff thought he was losing his mind.

Harry tried explaining his interaction with Y/N first at the Thai food spot and again when he was getting Greek food, but Jeff thought Harry was so sleep deprived he was imagining things.

“How did you see a beautiful, young woman who didn’t freak out or ask for a picture? Doesn’t make sense. You’re Harry Styles.”

“That’s what I thought!” Harry exclaimed wildly. He holds his phone up. “I’m thinkin’ she really doesn’t know who I am, though. I couldn’t find her on any social media platform. It’s like she’s off the grid or somethin’.”

“No social media at all? A little weird, isn’t it?”

“It’s fitting for her. If you met her then you would understand what I meant,” Harry felt the need to defend this alluring stranger who took away his pain just by listening to him speak. “Look at me, Jeff. Don’t I seem so much better than I was jus’ a few days ago?”

His manager couldn’t deny that Harry’s mood (and attitude) had done a 360. He didn’t complain about being woken up early and he happily consented to do not one, but two interviews.

“I mean, yeah? I guess––”

“Thanks to her!” Harry cuts him off. “I’m telling you. I need to see her again and thank her for whatever she did.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Harry leaned back against the counter in Jeff’s kitchen, mulling the question over. It was a valid one. How was he going to do that? He already tried to no avail to find her on social media. He hardly knew anything about her. All he knew was her name, that they seemed to have a similar taste in food, and that she went to the Thai spot at least two times a month.

That was it.

In one last effort to contact Y/N again, Harry planned to go to the Thai food place, pray the cashier who was working when he went in earlier this week was there, and leave his number with her. It was a risky move, probably not the smartest thing he could do, and Jeff would for sure drop him as a client if he knew Harry was doing things like this. Harry didn’t care. Phone numbers could always be changed, and he was desperate.

If Harry couldn’t contact Y/N, he would wait for her to contact him.

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Y/N was confused.

She stopped at her favorite Thai food spot (sooner in the month than anticipated, but she had another long day), ordered her usual, and was about to leave when the sweet cashier who was always there insisted she takes the piece of paper with ‘HARRY’ followed by a phone number scrawled on it.

“For me?” Y/N was confused. Something like this had never happened to her before. I mean, does it happen to anyone?

“He insisted,” the cashier warmly responds. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back–– knew you would soon enough.” Y/N’s face flushes at this and she makes a mental note to start cooking more.

“Well…,” Y/N trails off, not sure what to say. “Thank you? I guess I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ve done well.” The cashier’s aura shines pink. Affection. Love.

“You should. Take care!”

Y/N leaves the restaurant with the crumpled piece of paper in her sweaty hands, eager to get home as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something told her not to disregard him. His reaching out was a sign–– and Y/N did not ignore signs.

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“She hasn’t called me yet.”

“It’s been five days, Harry. She probably doesn’t eat Thai food every day. I can’t believe you did something so fuckin’ stupid…”

Jeff’s reprimanding fades into the background as Harry drifts off into daydreaming about what it would be like if– when- Y/N finally called him. Would she find him obsessed? What if she thought he was stalking her? Harry decided that when she called, he would immediately clear things up. He’d thank her for her kindness (his trademark) and see how she was doing. She left the Greek food place so abruptly when he last saw her that he was under the impression something was bothering her. Harry wasn’t sure what he could do to help if something was troubling her, but he could at least extend a listening ear to her as she did to him.

“Harry, are you listening?”

“What was that?”

Jeff shakes his head at Harry, an amused expression on his face. “Man, I hope she calls you soon.”

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The phone rang three times. After the third ring, his gruff voice came through the other end of the phone.

“Hello?”

Y/N sharply inhales, suddenly growing nervous. “Is this Harry?” Silence. Y/N was preparing to repeat herself when he spoke again.

“Is this Y/N?”

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to be silent. Harry says nothing, awaiting her response. “Well, it is. You sound familiar–– how do we know each other?”

“Now that ’m actually able to talk to you, it sounds a bit silly…” He seems unsure of himself. “Promise y’won’t laugh at me?”

“I promise.”

Y/N says it with such conviction that Harry believes her, and it gives him the confidence he needs to proceed. “I was havin’ a hard time a couple of weeks ago. I was in line to get some falafel and you asked me what was wrong. What was really wrong.” Y/N says nothing, so Harry continues.

“I told you I was exhausted from work ‘nd wanted a break. That’s it, y’know? But I immediately felt better afterward. I’ve actually been feelin’ great ever since. I jus’ wanted to thank you, is all. I know it sounds weird and it’s probably all in m’head but I feel like talkin’ with you was just what I needed.” Harry’s rambling, nerves finally catching up to him. She was gorgeous and he was afraid she would think he was insane.

“I’m glad to hear you’re still feeling better, Harry. That’s great.” Y/N’s voice is gentle and soft and to Harry, hearing her speak was just as comforting as getting a hug from his mum.

“I’m also really sorry that I was such a dick when you tried talkin’ to me the first time at the Thai spot,'' Harry feels embarrassed, stumbling over his words. “Not sure if you remember but I was just havin’ a shit day. I thought you were gonna ask for a picture and I just wasn’t in the mood.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything and Harry winces, certain he’s offended her when she starts talking again.

“That’s okay. I know you were having a bad day.”

“How did you know I was having a bad day?” Again, Y/N pauses before answering.

“Well, I didn’t do anything to you for you to be so rude to me. I knew it had to be a problem involving yourself.” Harry notices that Y/N speaks very slowly. It’s as if she considers every word before she speaks. He’s intrigued by her.

“That is very true.” Y/N doesn’t say anything so Harry takes it as his cue to keep talking. “I’m sorry if me leaving my number at the restaurant creeped you out. I hope you didn’t feel obligated to call me.”

“Not at all. I’ve actually been wondering how you were doing since we had our encounter at the Greek place–– that doesn’t creep you out either, right?”

Y/N was hypnotizing. Harry was infatuated.

“Not at all.”

“Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Course.”

“Why would I want a picture with you?”

Harry had to get to know her.

“Do y’wanna grab coffee sometime?”

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Something was definitely different about Y/N–– Harry just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. To begin, she truly had absolutely no idea who Harry was. At first, he thought she was just messing with him, but he quickly realized she was being serious. Y/N said she had “heard of” One Direction, but she never listened to the band’s music. Harry supposed that could account for her being unaware as to who he was. Maybe he wasn’t a “household name” like Jeff always said he was.

Harry was also right about her not having social media. When he asked Y/N why she didn’t use it, she said she preferred to occupy her time with more substantial things. She didn’t elaborate, and Harry didn’t ask. She was however very interested to learn what a big social media following Harry had. He tweeted the word “Do” and they watched as the internet went wild trying to decipher what he meant. He even started trending worldwide for it. It made sense to Y/N after that why Harry was so intent on not taking off his sunglasses and beanie.

Y/N was having a great time analyzing his aura.

She noticed that whenever someone glanced in their direction, his aura briefly turned red. Anxiety. When Y/N attempted to make a joke, it turned pink (she chose not to analyze that too much). Mainly though, his aura shone that beautiful, pale yellow that Y/N loved to see the most. Harry was doing well. He was happy. Y/N would not have to intervene today.

She couldn’t explain why, but she felt obligated to help him. Even though his energy made her feel so terribly last time, she would’ve still taken away his pain if he was blue without even thinking twice about it. Why was she so drawn to him? Y/N wasn’t sure what it was about Harry that drew her in, but she knew she would do anything to help him. Anything to see him happy.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Harry felt the same way.

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Y/N missed Harry terribly.

She wanted to call him–– just a brief conversation to see if he was doing okay. He mentioned when they last saw each other nearly two weeks prior that he was going to be very busy in the coming days, and she wondered if he still was. Harry told Y/N that he loved his job (of course he did!), but being so busy sometimes really hurt him. Not just mentally, but physically as well.

She longed for him.

Y/N searched through her call list for Harry’s number and immediately tapped it, listening closely as it rang. She was about to end the call in defeat when Harry answered at the last moment.

“Hello?” He sounded tired, under the weather.

“Harry,” Y/N begins. “I haven’t heard from you in a bit and I just wanted to see if all was well. How do you feel?”

“Hi Y/N,” Harry perks up slightly, but he still sounds a bit congested. “‘M not sure if you can tell from m’voice, but I’ve got a cold.”

Although Y/N wishes with every fiber of her being that she could rid Harry of his cold, she cannot. However, she can make sure all is well with his mind.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she pauses for a moment as she usually does, hoping Harry can tell how sincere she’s being on the other end. “How do you feel though? Are you still feeling happy?”

“Jus’ feelin’ not the greatest again. I’ve been stuck in my house with this fuckin’ cold and haven’t seen anyone in days.”

“I can come over.” Y/N doesn’t think twice before offering. If he had to suffer physically, she at least wanted him to feel okay mentally.

“I don’t want to get you sick. It’s okay–”

“I don’t mind, really. I’ll keep you company.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/N’s sure she must’ve creeped him out. They don’t even know each other well and here she was offering to come over to his home and keep him company while he was sick. She’s about to rescind her offer when he lets out a loud sigh.

“My manager might kill me if he finds out I did this… but sure, let me give you my address.”

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As soon as Harry got off the phone, he sprung into action. His home was a mess. There were crumpled up tissues all over the floor beside his bed, a sink full of dishes, and he’s pretty sure every bathroom in his house was a mess. He opted to not have anyone over to clean up after him as he didn’t want to risk getting anyone sick and man did it show.

He quickly gathered up all the tissues and threw them into the bin in the corner of his bedroom, surveying the rest of the mess before deciding he and Y/N wouldn’t be spending time in there, anyway. He was going to focus on the mess downstairs, instead. He loaded his dishwasher and record time and used disinfectant wipes on every surface he could in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. He then surveyed the bathrooms and cleaned the one with the least amount of mess, closing the doors to the other ones. He would worry about those some other time.

Harry was nervous to have Y/N over. He was just nervous to be around her in general. He missed her over the past couple of weeks but he opted out of contacting her, terrified that he was a bother. After Harry finished cleaning in record time, it dawned on him that he didn’t really have any food prepared to offer Y/N. If she was coming over to his house just to cheer him up, the least he could do was offer her something to eat. Harry hated doing things like this, but he was desperate. He texted his assistant and asked if they could drop off some food from the Greek place he and Y/N liked, making a mental note to find out what other places she enjoyed eating at for next time.

Y/N gets to his house much sooner than he was anticipating.

He rushes to his front door, looking through the peephole before opening the door. Y/N has a big smile on her face and looks absolutely gorgeous, as she usually does. She has a huge water bottle in one hand and a tote bag with the phases of the moon slung over her shoulder. He’s never seen it before and thinks it’s lovely.

“Hi,” Harry says breathlessly. “Thanks for coming. Uh, come in please.”

Y/N smiles and takes a small step forward, crossing the threshold of Harry’s home. She thought it was incredible–– and rather clean. “What can I do to help?”

Harry was getting used to Y/N’s straightforward approach to things, so he’s not phased by her question. “Jus’ you bein’ here is great, honestly.”

Y/N can see that Harry’s aura is that deep indigo that she’s not fond of, but she wonders if he can work through it himself before she steps in. “So it’s just your cold that’s got you feeling down? Can we sit down and talk about it?”

“Sure. Also, not sure if you’ve eaten yet or not but I’m gettin’ some food dropped off for us.”

“That sounds great, I haven’t had dinner yet so thank you. Can we sit?” Y/N doesn’t wait for Harry to answer. She makes her way to his plush couch in the adjoining room, walking through the place like she’s been there before. Harry loves it.

“I think I told you the gist of it on the phone earlier,” Harry says, settling onto the couch beside her. He leaves some space in between them since he doesn’t want to risk getting her sick, but he wishes he was closer to her. “I’ve been feelin’ down ‘cause I’ve been stuck in the house with this cold. S’not fun.” Y/N hums in understanding. Harry notices that she reaches out her hand to him slightly and then quickly retracts it, but he doesn’t mention it. Y/N says nothing, just continues looking inquisitively at him. Harry doesn’t feel uncomfortable under her gaze–– he stares back.

“Something’s making you feel nervous. What is it?”

Harry isn’t surprised that she was able to figure out there was more to what he was feeling than just loneliness. How was he supposed to tell Y/N that she was the reason for his nervousness, though?

“It’s nothing. I promise.”

“I don’t think so.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck nervously. “How are you so good at reading me? S’like you’re inside my brain, Y/N.” He lets out a little chuckle after saying this but quickly stops when he realizes Y/N isn’t laughing along with him.

“You’re just easy to read,” she cooly responds after a second. “Why are you so nervous? Do you have something coming up for work?”

“Not really…”

“Then what is it? Something going on with someone in your family?”

Harry was quickly realizing Y/N wouldn’t drop this unless Harry gave her an answer. He silently hopes for the best before answering her.

“It’s you,” he mumbles, shifting around uncomfortably on his couch. “You make me nervous.” Y/N watches as his aura changes from red and blue to pink, and his cheeks flush slightly.

“Why do I make you nervous?”

“You just do.”

“Why? Have I done something to hurt you?”

Y/N was so painfully oblivious that it was cute. Harry was quickly realizing that his heart doubled in size every time he talked to her.

“No. Quite the opposite, actually,” Harry reaches in the pocket of his sweatpants for a tissue, facing away from her while he pauses to blow his nose. “You’re so… you’re jus’ very interesting. Mesmerizing, really.”

Y/N feels her skin heat up at Harry’s compliment. His aura is still shining pink, the brightest pink she’s ever seen since meeting him. She was sad to see there was still quite a bit of indigo and red, though. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

Before Y/N can stop herself, she reaches out to grab Harry’s hand. Immediately she feels his energy transfer to her and without thinking, Y/N flicks her finger out of force of habit. The beautifully potted Pothos that Harry has sitting on his television stand instantly droops, leaves turning brown and wilted.

Harry’s completely perplexed.

The first thing he notices is that he’s feeling better. Great, even. He feels as good as he felt after the interaction he had with Y/N in the Greek food place all those weeks ago. The next thing he notices is that his gorgeous Pothos, a plant that is nearly impossible to kill, is dead.

And it was all Y/N’s doing.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

please let me know what you thought!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #aura #thanks for reading!

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theoreticslut · 4 years

Text

"Why do they hate me so much?”

pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley (*might change)

requested: no

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of cheating, SFW

A/N: i’m attempting an enemies to lovers kind of story, but i’m not sure if it’ll really come across as that. if you haven’t noticed i kinda just write and whatever comes out, comes out. As i mentioned above the pairing of the story might change as I’m still working on it. right now its heading in the direction of both the twins, but that’s not how i originally wanted it to go, so we’ll see. I hope you guys like what I have so far, I do want to make this into a small series so if you have any comments and/or suggestions please let me know - i would love hearing your thoughts! Xx

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog

^ let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!

“You pig-headed prats!” You holler, huffing as the infamous weasley twins ‘successfully’ pull off another prank, you as their target yet again.

“Oi, sweetheart. That’s a bit harsh for such a pretty lady.” Fred smirks.

“Shove off, weasley.” You hiss as you push through the two who were standing in front of you.

If you spent another minute near them you feared you’d find yourself in detention for a month. The two redheads had a way of thoroughly getting under your skin.

You’re not entirely sure what you’d done to them, but for the better part of two years now you had been the butt of many of their pranks. You’ve had everything from an itching charm put on your robes to mini fireworks exploding out of your books to the most recent of having your wand tampered with to cover you in slime instead of whatever spell you were trying to cast.

Besides that, the two had been beyond irritating to talk to. You could always find them laughing and joking with others, but they seemed much kinder than they were to you. That’s not to say that they were rude or mean to you in anyway, but their jokes and smart replies were definitely not what you needed after having been pranked.

“Y/n! Ohhh, what happened?” Your friend hermione called as you entered the common room, immediately sensing how pissed you were.

“The twins happened.” You grumble, gritting your teeth.

“I don’t know why they keep pranking you! I’ve talked them multiple times about it and I thought they had finally gotten it through their heads that it wasn’t funny.”

“Don’t worry about it, hermione. I think they were just born bloody annoying. It’s what they do and they know they’re good at it, so why stop? It’s not like we plan to be friends or anything any time soon anyway.” You huff, making your way up to your dorm.

“I know, y/n. I know. Just....let me talk to them again. I’ll make sure they stop. It’s not fair to you. Even harry and Ron get annoyed at them for it.”

“You don’t have to do that, ‘mione. I’ll just...start ignoring them, maybe that’ll get them to stop. They’re not worth my time of day anyway.”

“Alright, y/n. Well, let’s get you cleaned up. You are going to need help getting this out of your hair.”

~.~

“You two need to stop this prank thing against y/n. I’ve told you over and over, it’s not funny anymore. Do you know that it took at least five washings to get that slime out of her hair? Five!”

“Oh stop harping us, hermione. It’s not like we’re hurting her any.” Fred says, dismissing her disapproval.

“You’re not hurting her, but you’re certainly annoying all of us.” Ron says through a mouthful of breakfast.

“Why should we stop? It’s fun and honestly pretty great to get a rise out of her.” George smiles.

“Don’t you think she wonders why she’s being targeted? She is our friend, too, and you hardly prank any of us. Don’t you think she might feel a bit frustrated? Don’t you think she wonders why you two have such a vendetta against her?” Hermione pushes, becoming annoyed herself with them.

“We’ll bring it in a bit, but we’re not stopping. She’s just too easy to prank.” Fred finally offers.

“I wish you would stop completely. It’s honestly not fair to her in the slightest.” Hermione sighs, giving up for the time being.

The twins are stubborn and she knows she better take what they give her for now before they revoke their compromise to bring it back completely.

~.~

You groan to yourself as you listen to Professor Binns drone on about history. This was by far your least favourite class, even more so when you’ve had the week you’ve had.

It started monday when you woke up to a surprise visit from Aunt Flo to which you were very unprepared for. You had been meaning to get some more pads and tampons but had been so busy it had left your mind. Not only did it inconveniently arrive, it was also being a major witch this month. As soon as it hit you felt you were going to be sick. The amount of nausea you felt on top of how crampy and achy you were. You honestly felt like you had been run over by the hogwarts express.

Tuesday you had been surprised by a last minute exam that Snape decided to give out. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem, except this really was not your week and hadn’t been able to remember the potions you were being quizzed on. You had just barely passed when you normally received the higher marks that snape rarely gave out.

Wednesday you had just had a very rough day. Everything you had tried to do backfired and you ended up creating more hassle for the professors and your friends than would normally be expected. You spent the day just feeling completely useless, which continued into thursday.

Then, so far today, you woke up late and forgot your tie which earned a deduction of house points. You had spilled a bunch of ingredients in potions which earned even more deducted house points and complete embarrassment. You felt completely disgusting today even though you’ve showered and still looked put together. And most recently, just after lunch you had found your boyfriend has been cheating on you.

To put it lightly, this was just a really bad day at the end of a very rough week. The only thing you’ve been able to be grateful for is that the twins have seemingly stopped pranking you.

They still made smart remarks that you were trying your best to ignore, but for the time being you haven’t found yourself in the middle of one of their pranks.

You’re not sure why, but at least you haven’t had to deal with them on top of everything else this week.

You had managed to get all the way through to dinner where you sat very tiredly. Hermione knew you’ve been having a rough week as you were roommates, but she wasn’t sure what exactly had been happening. You hadn’t been wanting to talk about it. Harry and Ron, however, could tell you were in no mood for anything else even without knowing you’ve had a rough week.

Unfortunately, the twins did not get the memo that this was not your best week and had decided today was the day they’d prank you after leaving you alone for a couple weeks.

they had been planning out how to do so for a few days now and were proud of what they had come with. therefore, It came as quite a surprise to the both of them when you broke out crying after setting a smoke bomb to go off when you lifted your fork.

The food had just been revealed to start dinner when you picked up your fork to grab a piece of ham from the platter in front of you.

Before you could realize what happened, the smoke bomb went off, completely covering you in soot and catching the attention of many of the students in the great hall.

Without being able to hold it in, you had started crying as Fred and George were laughing.

“What have I ever done to you? I’ve tried being nice and it always blows up in my face, quite literally right now.” You sigh, choking on your tears as you stand up from the table to leave.

Fred and George stop laughing when they hear you, their smiles dropping when they realize you had been crying. They watch as you hurry off, hoping to Merlin this encounter wasn’t being listened to and watched by everyone.

“Look what you two have done now! I told you to knock it off with all these pranks. You can’t ever listen though, can you Fred. George.” Hermione states, fuming at the red-headed twins as she gets up and follows after you.

“Oh bloody hell.” They both sigh in unison, slumping into the table.

“Bloody hell is right.” Ron says. “You really don’t want Hermione mad at you.”

“We’re not worried about hermione, mate.” Fred says, keeping his eyes on the door that y/n had left through.

“We just wanted to get her to smile.” George sighs sadly.

~.~

“Y/n!” Hermione calls as she catches up with you in the hall back to the common room.

“Please go, hermione.” You sniffle, wiping at your eyes.

“I’m not leaving my best friend out here crying all alone.” She huffs, crossing her arms as she looks at you.

“I know you had a bad week, but what’s happened? It must’ve been real bad if you break out crying like this, y/n.” She says after a minute or two.

“I’m just so tired, ‘mione.” You cry, shrinking into yourself in front of her.

you felt pathetic yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop crying. you had been hiding it away all week and you just couldn’t do it anymore.

“Tell me what’s happened.” She urges, pulling you into a hug, her heart breaking for you. she cared for her friends more than anything, but it really broke her seeing you so upset. you were usually such a literal ray of sunshine to everyone around you, that it was painful to see you carrying so much pain.

“I’m so tired and achy and nauseous. All because I’m a bloody woman. I’ve been so unfocused that I’ve lost us so many house points. Well, more than I ever have,” you sob as hermione leads you over to a bench by the window.

“I practically failed that exam snape gave us this week and I made such a mess of his ingredients. He was so furious, hermione.” you whisper, your terrified eyes meeting hers as you recall the way he fumed over your mishap.

“I was so embarrassed. I’ve never done that terribly in his class.” you mumble.

“I’ve been nothing but a hassle to everyone around me this week and I just - I feel so bloody disgusting. It’s honestly no surprise I found my boyfriend cheating on me.” You sigh, crying more.

“He did what?!” Hermione gasped, sighing as you cry harder.

“He’s been cheating on me, ‘mione. For like two months at least! I feel so dumb and used. I really liked him, ‘mione, and he just....he just used me!”

“Take a breath, y/n. We don’t need you getting sick.” hermione urges, noticing how you’re choking for air through your sobs.

“A-and now I’m covered in soot all because the twins have something against me. I don’t know what I could have done! Why do they hate me so much?” You cry.

Fred and George frown as they hear you recount your week, having left dinner to come after you and apologize. They truly had no idea. If they did they wouldn’t have set up that smoke bomb.

“We really messed up, Fred.” George sighs, not being able to take his eyes off you as you cry in hermione’s arms.

“Yeah, we have. Come on, let’s go apologize and try to fix this.”

They make their way over to you and hermione who shoots daggers at them.

“Y/n, we’re sorry. We-“

“Would you two get out of here? You’re some of the last people she wants to see right now.” Hermione states, knowing that the twins are beyond sorry and just want to make sure you’re all right, but taking your emotional needs as her priority.

she knew that they had a bit of a crush on you even though they had never said a thing on the topic. it wasn’t hard to miss, however, when she noticed how often they’d stare at you from across the room, smiling dumbly to themselves and zoning out. it was quite adorable, actually, but she did wonder how they ever thought pranking you was the way to your heart.

“We didn’t know you’ve had such a bad week.” Fred sighs, ignoring hermione.

You start crying harder at the mention of your week. You just wanted it to end. you wanted to curl up in your bed, tucked tightly into the blankets and listen to some comforting sad songs while you cry.

“Fred, George, go back to dinner. I’m taking y/n to our room. She needs to be left alone for awhile.” hermione orders, helping you to stand even though you don’t want to. all your energy has been drained from your body so even lifting an arm to wipe at your tears felt like it was the most difficult task in the world.

The twins sigh, but nod, knowing it’s the truth. Having them around wouldn’t help anything, but they felt so guilty. they just wanted you to understand that they don’t hate you, but rather the complete opposite.

They had never wanted to upset you when they started pranking you. In fact they both saw you as a friend and had a bit of a crush on you that they couldn’t understand. Sure you were beautiful, beyond kind, and a little bit of a fireball, but you were just a girl. neither of them were quite sure when they had started feeling and thinking it, but even though they tried to tell themselves that you were, they knew deep down you weren’t just some girl.

They really aren’t the greatest with their feelings though, especially when their beyond confused with them, and decided pranking you was the best way to show that they liked you. They never prank you to be mean, they just want to make you laugh and see you smile.

~.~

Hermione had gotten you into bed after having you shower and change into some comfy clothes.

She had left to go get herself some dinner and promised she’d be back soon to see how you were holding up.

You had told her not to worry about bringing anything back for you. Instead you were just going to curl up and go to sleep.

You heard a knock on your door and sighed. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone, even hermione. You hummed out however to notify the person on the other side of the door that you were listening.

You hear your door creak open a bit and hear some footsteps enter.

“Y/n? Uh, Fred and I brought you some dinner. Hermione said you didn’t want anything, but you can’t just not eat.” You hear George say, cautiously stepping over to your bed. his voice was filled with concern which you thought odd, but couldn’t care enough to think about too long.

You hear Fred shut the door but you don’t bother looking at either of them. You’re far too numb to care at this moment.

“Y/n?” George asks after not getting a response. he didn’t think you were sleeping, but he wasn’t sure.

“Thanks. Just, set it on my trunk. Or my night table. I’m not really hungry right now.” You mumble, still not bothering to look at either of them.

“H-how are you holding up?” Fred asks, fidgeting in his place.

“Why do you care? You’ve never cared before. Either of you.”

Both the twins sigh, looking at the other with guilt written all over their faces. they’re well aware how they come across to you, but it was truly a complete misunderstanding.

“We know we made you the target of our pranks more often than not, but we weren’t trying to be mean. We just, we really wanted to make you smile. Make you laugh.” Fred sighs.

“Did quite a job at it, huh?” You ask, still staring straight ahead. You don’t have the energy to turn to look at them. And truthfully, you didn’t really want to.

“We-we’re sorry. We had no idea how bad of a week you’ve had. We, uh, we heard you tell hermione everything.” George states, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It doesn’t matter that it was this week.” you deadpan, “It’s the fact that I’ve never once enjoyed your pranks on me. It was pretty obvious, so why would you continue?” You ask, getting a bit irritated at the two twins.

“Well, uh. I-I don’t know. We’re dumb.” Fred answers.

“No, you’re not. You both are so brilliant that I’ve been jealous of you at times, but you just don’t care about school. You’d rather use all your brilliance on tormenting poor classmates or make a girl cry than apply yourselves to classes.”

You knew you weren’t being fair, but you were fed up with everything. You wanted to be left alone. you couldn’t handle socializing, much less able to handle these two trying to make up for what they’d done for years only after you broke down crying.

“No, we never wanted to make you cry. Merlin we feel so guilty that we did.” Fred tries to argue, but is promptly cut off.

“So you really don’t care, do you? You’re just trying to make yourselves feel better.” You say, finally looking over at them, a fire blazing behind your eyes. Both of them look like deer caught in headlights, not sure whether to stay put or run and in which direction if they did.

You watch as Fred gulps nervously as George opens and closes his mouth trying to find the words to not make things worse.

Even though they can’t meet your eyes, mainly because they’re scared of the anger within them, they notice just how awful you look. Not in the sense that you’re unattractive, because Merlin even now you were gorgeous, but awful in the sense of how absolutely heartbroken you look. It truly looks like your soul has been ripped from your body and your heart crushed to pieces.

Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy, your nose red from blowing it into the rough tissues on your bedside table, tear tracks etched into your cheeks almost looking like spilled ink that had run across a piece of parchment.

They can see how tired you are, and how much sadness you’re still holding in. They wish more than anything that they could comfort you, but you were making it very clear that you didn’t want them here.

“Can you please just go? I don’t really feel like keeping company.” You sigh, turning back away from them.

They both nod, even though you can’t see them. Turning to walk away, they stop to look over your form once again. They’ve never seen you so heartbroken and it scared them. You had been a light in their lives, happiness radiating from inside you constantly spreading warm that reached deep into their souls. it hurt seeing that light extinguished.

“We’re really sorry, y/n. For everything.” George sighs, him and fred leaving you to yourself.

#harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts #hogwarts imagine #fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #fred weasley imagine #george wealsey imagine #weasley twins #fred and george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #series??

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fangirlshrieks · 3 years

Text

Spring Break part 1

a/n: This is my first official post on here and I don't know how it will turn out. Tik Tok really made me obsessed with Harry Potter 😭. Now I am a simp for Neville. I got a soft spot for quiet, nerdy, shy, and subby boys. I don't usually write fanfiction because my ideas are usually super long and I have no time to write them out but I decided to write this one. I will also be posting this on my wattpad account. I read @omg-imatotalmess sub!Neville fic back in December and I've been obsessed with the idea of Neville being a sub. *internally screaming*

Part 1, Part 2, part 3

Word count: 2,519

Pairings: Neville Longbottom x female reader

Warnings: Mensions of sex, Innuendoes, mentions of plant boy's insecurities

The sunlight intruded through your dorm room windows. It shined at just the right angle so the light hit your eyes, abruptly waking you up. In annoyance your turn onto your stomach and bury your head under your pillow desperate for just a few more minutes of sleep but the memory of it being the last day of school before spring break entered your mind. You peaked from under your pillow to check the time. It was around 7:05. You huffed. It was too early to get up. Unable to go back to sleep with the light in your eyes you reluctantly got up out of bed and got ready for the day. You could hear the deep snores of your dorm mates sleeping quietly as you got ready. It was times like these where you enjoyed getting up earlier than everyone else. There was always a sort of peace before the hustle and bustle of everyone rushing to the bathrooms to find a mirror or use the sinks. You made sure to be as quiet as possible. Having gotten ready you decide to head to the great hall for breakfast.

Sitting down at the Y/H table you grabbed a toast and some butter and jam. There were a few students around but not enough to fill the hall with loud noise. None of your friends were up yet, that's for sure, so you scanned the room to see if your boyfriend, Neville Longbottom, was there.

'Who am I kidding he's probably still asleep too' you thought.

But just as you turned to eat your food, Neville had entered the great hall. He spotted you and quickly walked over to where you were sitting.

"Hello love" he gave you a quick peck on the top of your head before sitting down next to you.

"What are you doing here so early?" His tone is full of amusement, knowing you aren't normally one of the first students to enter the great hall in the morning.

"I could ask you the same thing" you said, giving him a teasing look.

"Well I couldn't really sleep last night. Too excited for holiday, I guess." He responded with a bit of nervousness in his voice. You didn't seem to notice however.

"Well I was rudely interrupted from a wonderful sleep by a disgusting thing called sunrise." The sarcasm in your voice made the two of you laugh slightly.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to sleep in."

"It's fine. That just means I get to spend more time with you today." You said nudging him with your shoulder. "By the way did you ever tell your gran that I would be visiting the two of you at the lake house."

Neville's grandmother was invited by an old friend to stay with her at her lake house. The lake house was relatively close to where you lived in London but it was obviously in the wizarding world. You had asked Neville about two weeks ago if you could visit him and his grandmother while they were there. You had never been to a lake house before and you wanted to spend your first Holiday with him as his girlfriend since you two had got together.

You had only been going out since December but you had been friends since 1st year. When his grandmother heard the news about the two of you finally becoming an official couple she was ecstatic. She always believed there was something more between the two of you. Even when you were in your previous relationship with a boy from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic your fourth year, there was always something there but neither of you believed that other could ever like you in that way. But after you broke up with your ex at the end of your fourth year, the tension between you and Neville was undeniable. It was not until the start of 6th year after Neville had an encounter with Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic and it was revealed that Voldemort had returned that you and Neville had actually acted on your feelings. Now here you are actually together.

You had visited him and his grandmother before during other school breaks but only every as a friend. This time would be different. Your mind sometimes wondered about taking your relationship to the next level but you only ever mention that once before and Neville seemed nervous the entire time so you dropped the subject. You assumed it was because he was a virgin and unfortunately to your dismay it was a well known fact that you had lost your virginity to your ex who had bragged about it when you were a couple (but that is a story for a later time).

"Oh yeah." He seemed anxious and grabbed a toast to shove in his mouth to try and drown the worry in his voice, but it didn't help. "Gran said you are welcome anytime."

"Perfect."

More students started filling the hall as you finished your breakfast. Dean and Seamus had also entered the hall and made their way towards the two of you.

"Hey guys." Neville greeted them.

"What are you two love birds talking about?" Dean said while leaning over your shoulder.

"Just making plans." You said nonchalantly as you turned your head towards him.

"Plans for Holiday I assume?" Seamus piped in with a raised eyebrow. From behind your back, Neville gave him a look almost as if he was pleading with him not to make any inappropriate jokes.

"Yes, actually" you answered.

Seamus pushed on, "Care to elaborate?"

"I'm sorry, but I actually have to pack, which I would advise you three to do the same." You turned back to Neville. "I'll meet you at the Entrance Hall so we can head towards the Express together, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan." And with that Neville watched you headed towards your dorm to pack.

He was thankful you left before Deam or Seamus could mention anything about what had happened last night. The three of them all walked over to the Gryffindor table to eat.

"So you and y/n are you and going to be sharing the same room?" Seamus asked.

Neville choked on his juice he was drinking and coughed a few times before finally recovering.

"Relax mate, it's natural to be nervous your first time." Dean added.

"I already told you too, me and y/n are not doing anything during break. She's just visiting me and gran for a day." Neville had a slight red hue over his cheeks.

"Alright, alright " Dean said amusingly.

"But just so you know spring break is when couples usually…" Seamus didn't get to finish.

"I get it, Seamus! Do you have to be so loud?" Neville cut him off. "I think I'm going to go pack now, see you guys later."

"Just remember to pack the rubbers Seamus gave you." Dean laughed under his breath.

Of course how could Neville forget the rubbers.

------ The night before in the boys dormitories ------

"Yeah, it's going to be great. Y/N is joining me and gran for a day at the lake house. It will be nice to not be the only person my age there. Plus I can show Y/N all the cool plants around the lake." Neville was beaming talking about his plans for Holiday with you and his grandmother. His smile was radiant and by the expression on his face you could totally tell he was smitten by you.

"Wait let me get this straight. Y/N is going to be staying at your grandmother's lake house with you." Dean was trying to make sense of the situation.

"Technically it's my gran's friend's lake house."

"That doesn't matter." Seamus said bluntly. "The fact is you and Y/N are going to be at a lake house together during spring break."

"What are you going on about?" Neville was completely dumbfounded about what was wrong with the situation.

"Seamus, will you just tell him."

"I got a better idea." Seamus walked over to his dresser and opened a drawer. He searched inside for a small box. Once he found it, he grabbed it, and threw it towards Neville. When it landed on his bed, Neville grabbed the box and read what it was. He saw the figure on the box was a warrior and the name 'Trojan' written at the very top. His eyes widened and he immediately fumbled the box before he dropped it. He could feel his cheeks warm up as Dean and Seamus laughed at his reaction.

"Wh.. Where did you get those?" Neville distanced himself from the condoms.

"It doesn't matter." Seamus said, still laughing.

"Are you serious? I can't take those with me." Neville was embarrassed for having never even thought that something like that would happen while on Holiday with you. "Wait, this trip isn't even about that. Me and Y/N haven't even done anything yet. I haven't even done anything yet!" Seamus insinuation had clearly caused Neville to freak out and rethink his entire plan of having you visit him during break.

"Chill out mate." Dean was trying not to laugh but it wasn't really helping.

"Mate we know it’s your first time, we just thought you could use some pointers." Seamus suggested.

"I really don't think that's necessary. We're not going to…" this time Neville was cut off by Seamus.

"Listen, when you put the condom on make sure you pinch the top so there is a bit of room there and then roll it down. If you don't it just might break and we don't want that happening do we."

"Also don't forget to use a new one every time. Apparently they are not reusable." Dean chimed in.

Neville was in shock and the color of his face matched the color of his house's signature color.

"Please stop." He was pulling at his hair in agony.

"We're just trying to help a friend out." Seamus said smugly.

"This isn't helping. This is making it worse." Neville shoved his head in his pillow from embarrassment.

The other boys continue to laugh. Neville, extremely embarrassed by his friend's insinuation, tried to come up with a reason to leave his dorm and got up and grabbed the closet textbook near him.

"Uhh... I forgot I need to catch up on my studies" and with that he rushed to the Gryffindor common room.

At this time at night the common room was empty. Only the fireplace lit the room with a warm glow. He sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace and ran his fingers through his hair to ease his nerves.

"How could I be so stupid?" He asked himself aloud.

The signs had been there all along. He just hadn't put all the pieces together until now. You had originally asked him if you could spend the night at the lake house but he didn't understand why at the time because you lived close by. Then there was the conversation the two of you had a couple of weeks ago. You had asked Neville how he had felt about moving your relationship on a more intimate level and he had completely freaked out by the sudden suggestion. He had certainly thought about you in that way occasionally (even before the two of you were officially together) but he never imagined it to ever come to fruition. Then when the two of you had finally gotten together, he felt inadequate in that particular area because he had never been with anyone romantically. He was relieved when you dropped the subject but knew it would be a topic to come back again.

He also noticed how touchy you had become lately in private. You two were definitely not a pda couple but preferred to show your love to one another in private. Neville thought back to the time last week when it was just the two of you sitting by the lake while he read you a chapter in his herbology book. The two of you had sat right under a tree and you had sat next to him leaning your head on his shoulder and placed your hand on his thigh.

As he read to you, your hand slowly made its way higher and higher towards the area between his legs. At first he was completely oblivious to your actions until he had set his book aside from in front of him and noticed how close your hand was to his crotch. It had made him freeze and he felt his face heat up. You had looked up at him and leaned in to give him a kiss which eventually turned into a heated make out session. Neville couldn't recall how you ended up on top of him or how your hands had slipped under his shirt but they did. He untimely stopped the moment when his crotch was becoming increasingly annoying as you rested your weight on him. He sensed that you had felt a little disappointed despite your reassuring words.

Neville rubbed the back of his head in frustration as he recalled the memory. He didn't want to stop but his insecurities got the best of him. He remembered how self conscious he felt when you started to rub up and down on his chest and stomach. Neville knew he did not have the most muscular built nor was he very slim. He often wondered what you even saw in him.

He hated when he started to overthink. He quickly shut out those thoughts and ended up thinking about you and your smile. How he loved your smile and how bright you beamed every time you looked at him like he was the greatest person in the world.

"That has to count for something right?" He whispered to himself.

'Wait what if she does want to have sex this week?' He pondered on the possibility.

His mind wondered about the idea of losing his virginity to you and smiled to himself as another thought entered his mind.

You were riding him like your life depended on it. It was really a sight for sore eyes and he found himself more open to the idea. Then his eyes went wide with the sudden realization that he doesn't really know anything about the female anatomy. He didn't really know where his penis was supposed to enter or where the clit was. At this point he had wished there was some sort of sex education at Hogwarts.

His nerves seemed to oscillate from high to low with his constant thinking.

"This is going to be a long break." He said to himself rubbing his temples.

That night he kept twisting and turning in bed and couldn't get much sleep. He ended up sleeping for only 4 hours and was woken up by the sunshine entering the windows. He reluctantly got out of bed and got ready for the day.

Heading out of Gryffindor tower he left towards the great hall for breakfast.

a/n: Hoped you like it. 😊

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1025cherrystreet · 3 years

Text

order for me, please?

y/n is too anxious to order for herself at a restaurant, so harry does it for her.

disclaimer: did not proofread this, nor do i really like how i ended it. very much rushed, very much lost the plot i feel lmao. any feedback is appreciated!!!

warnings: talks about anxiety quite a lot, other than that just fluff. kinda short soz <3

Harry rubs soft circles into your side while you're cuddled into him on the couch. The light coming in from the window casts a yellow glow into the room, little rainbow beams decorate random spots in your living room from the glass.

You've been a bit anxious today. The worst part of it is that you have no clue as to why you've been so anxious. Nothing particularly stressful has occurred since you woke up, but your heart hasn't stopped racing, your breathing has been quite shaky, and your palms are clammy. Some days are just harder than others, you know this, but it doesn't dismiss the fact that it's still difficult to even get through the day sometimes.

Since the moment you woke up in Harry's warm clutch this morning, you felt off. That uncomfortable feeling in your tummy and the constricting nails that seem lodged in your throat were a not-so-warm welcome when you opened your eyes.

Having anxiety and knowing how hard it is for you, you know how hard it can be for the people around you as well. You felt guilty. You felt guilty because today was one of Harry's days off from work and he doesn't get many of them, always so busy. You didn't want to ruin what was supposed to be a good, relaxing, fun day.

But, when Harry wished you a good morning love, and you had opened your mouth to speak with glossy eyes, only to have the words get caught in your throat, he knew today wasn't a good one.

However, because Harry is such an amazing person and boyfriend, he knows how to go about handling your anxiety. He knows you. He knows that you just need a cuddle and a slow day with tea and a good meal. He knows when you start to get really worked up, you listen to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac because it reminds you of a sweet childhood memory. He knows you don't want to do much talking, but rather more watching TV. He knows you like to distract yourself on your bad days...and he knows how to do so.

So, after spending all morning and into the afternoon having tea and breakfast and taking your meds (along with a short cry), you're now cuddling on the couch mindlessly watching a movie. It's quiet in the house, the only sound coming from the television (and maybe your heart beating if Harry got close enough), but Harry swears you could be able to hear his thoughts from a mile away.

He worries about you sometimes. As does everyone who loves someone. He's never loved someone as much as he loves you and it scares him sometimes. He's not scared of falling out of love or deciding you guys aren't the best for each other, no. He's scared of not being enough for you. He knows you tell him that he's the love of your life and that he will always be enough for you, but a little part of him is scared that he might not be able to take care of you. Now, he's not saying in any way, shape, or form that he's not capable of taking care of you, because he can! He's just scared he might mess up and make your anxiety worse. He hates seeing you so out of it.

You're always the sunlight in every room, always smiling and so loving. You care so deeply for everyone around you, he admires it. He admires you. He loves you, so he hates that your mind can be mean to you at times.

See, his troubles with anxiety are far different from yours. Gratefully, his anxiety is more rational (still troubling, just more rational!) ... which is the complete opposite to yours. Your disorder is so irrational and crazy that, more often than not, you get so frustrated with yourself. Your brain makes up problems to be there that aren't there. You worry about nothing and everything all at once, feeling like you never get a break from the mental toll it has on you.

So with that, Harry hates seeing you so anxious. He knows you're so vulnerable and fragile in this state that he doesn't want to make anything worse for you, he wishes every day that he could just take all the worry and bad thoughts from your head and put them on himself instead, as long as it meant that you'd be your happy self again.

But, he knows that's not possible. He also knows that's it's okay to not be okay all the time, so he packs his wishes back into his brain and cuddles you closer. Hoping you can feel his love reverberate off every surface of this house to you.

Oddly enough, you almost feel as if you can. In your simultaneously busy yet silent mind, you can make out his affection in every circle he draws onto your skin with his fingertips, in every warm cup of tea he makes, and every sickly sweet kiss he presses onto your lips, forehead, and cheek. You know he loves you and you hope with everything that he knows you love him just as much, if not more.

With that thought running through your head, you turn to place a kiss to his chest, lightly tracing the butterfly (moth?) tattoo through his shirt. A content hum sounds from his lips and he squeezes you tighter before kissing the top of your head.

"I love you," He whispers, as if not to disturb the comfortable silence created in this space.

"I love you more," You whisper back, the tea earlier melting the nails in your throat just a little.

***

"Does Carrburritos sound good, lovie?" Harry asks, waiting on the edge of y'all's bed for you to finish getting ready.

Carrburritos is your favorite restaurant ever. Of course, you know that's why Harry chose it and the thought of him doing something as simple as that melts your heart at how sweet and thoughtful he is.

"Yeah, thank you, bubs." You respond softly, still in the fragile state you were in earlier, albeit definitely feeling better. You make your way to the edge of the bed where Harry is, slotting your body between his legs and bringing your hands up to play with the little curls on his neck.

"Alright, love. If you're ready to go, we can start to head over?" He asks, rubbing his big hands up and down along your sides.

You nod, leaning into kiss him. It's short, but your lips melt against his and no matter how many times you've kissed him, every single one still feels as magical as the first time.

The two of you get to the restaurant in 15 minutes time, settling at a table close to the window, in more of a quiet area. You feel better than you have all day, but the loud noises and the people in here are making your heart rate spike just a tad.

You and Harry talk softly about random topics, nothing about work or anything too heavy because you don't think you're able to handle that right now. You giggle at the jokes Harry will slip in ever so often and his face lights up at the sound, loving that he can make you feel comfortable after having such a hard day.

When the waitress comes by to get your drink orders, your leg starts bouncing a mile a minute under the table. You rehearse the five words just a sweet tea, please, over and over in your head for when she gets to you. Somehow, you manage to squeak out the order, avoiding eye contact as a nervous habit, but now that you realize you're doing it, the fear of coming across as rude now terrorized your mind. But, before you could do anything about it, the waitress walks away.

"You okay, baby?" Harry can sense your nerves, practically seeing them coming off of you. He reaches his hand across the table to hold yours, rubbing his thumb along your hand.

You just nod, trying to calm yourself. You're being so silly, you think to yourself. What? You're really about to cry because you forgot you have to talk to the waitress to order your food? It's a small encounter, you don't understand why your head makes it such a difficult task. You start to get frustrated with yourself, almost bringing tears to your eyes.

"Hey, tell me what you need, darling?" Harry coos, ducking his head to get in your line of sight since you've been stuck staring at the table top for the past few minutes.

You clear your throat in hopes to push down the tears and diminish the scratching feeling in your throat, although, it didn't do much.

"C-can you..." You huff, now frustrated that you can't even speak, "can you please order for me?" You glance at him, but not holding your gaze long before looking out the window at passing cars. You feel so stupid asking him to order for you. For fucks sake, you're not a child. And you can't tell if it's worse or better that you know he's going to have no problem ordering for you (or doing anything for you, for that matter). He'd do anything for you in a heartbeat.

A soft, loving smile pulls on his lips before he speaks.

"Of course, my sweet girl. It's no problem at all, you want what you normally get?" He asks and you offer a gentle nod.

If he's being honest, he actually likes you depending on him like this sometimes. Not to say that you need him to do everything for you, because you're more than capable, he would like to add! But, knowing that you're comfortable and trust him enough to be so open with him and ask him to do certain things for you makes him feel so...valuable? Maybe that's not the right word he'd like to use, but he just loves that he can do something for you to make your life easier. Your joy brings him joy.

When the waitress comes back, Harry orders for the both of you. Your heart could explode with the amount of adoration you have for the man sitting across from you. He just... gets it. He gets you.

So, with full bellies and calmed nerves, the two of you make your way back home and get settled in y'all's bed to cuddle for the rest of the night. Sprinkled thank you's and sweet kisses are shared while the two of you share warmth under the dozens of blankets adorning the bed.

"I'm sorry I wasted your day off, H." You whisper out into the air.

Pressing a peck to your shoulder, Harry tugs you to turn so you're facing him. He shakes his head, "Y/N, you didn't waste my day. Always perfect with you." His big hands squeezing lovingly at your waist as if he's trying to transfer his love for you to you.

"Look at me," He says when he catches your eyes cast down at his tattooed chest. "You will never, ever, be a burden, lovie. I know y'feel like you're botherin' me, or everyone, by jus'existing, but you've got it all wrong. Baby, I hate seeing you so anxious, and I know you can't control it, but tha's not gonna stop me from doin' everythin' I can to make you comfortable...and loved."

Your face breaks out in, probably, the biggest grin you've had all day at his assurance.

"I always feel comfortable and loved with you, H."

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #hshq #hs #harry #y/n #fluff #fine line #hs1 #anxiety #writing #1025cherrystreet #fanfic #fanfiction

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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 4 years

Text

tangled up in blue

pairing: harry styles x plus size!reader

warnings: fluff, comfort, mentions of anxiety, kinda angsty

word count: 4.4k

synopsis: harry has a rude encounter with a fan

author’s note: sorry for another rushed ending, but other than that, i hope you enjoy xx all the love

masterlist

—

It’s his first day off in weeks, and he is taking full advantage of it. After such a stressful few months, he wants nothing more than to spend this short break with his girlfriend.

It’s two in the afternoon before he gets out of bed, and that’s only because the weak little grumbling in his stomach became too much to ignore. With no real food in the house, Y/N called in an order to their regular place, as long as he is the one who picks it up.

He decides to walk, since the restaurant is only a few blocks away from his home, but when he catches a couple paps trying to get pictures a little ways down the road, he knew he should have driven. He’s glad Y/N stayed home, since photos of her rarely get out, and he knows that she wouldn’t have been comfortable with it.

He sighs, trying to not let them ruin his first relaxing day in a while, but it’s hard. Harry likes his privacy, and sadly, he chose the wrong career. He would never say that he hates what he does. He loves being able to bring joy and kindness to people who really need it, even if it is just for a couple of minutes.

He just wishes he could have some more space and privacy and freedom to do his own thing. He wishes he could go out on his day off without being stopped or having people trying (and failing) to take a sneaky picture of him, which, again, is an absolute invasion of his privacy.

He would never snap at anyone, well, no one except the paparazzi, not only because he was taught early on that he shouldn’t do that, but also because he wasn’t that type of person. While he still may not be used to the significance of his stardom, he still understands that he is a role model to many people, and he needs to act as such.

“I have an order to pick up,” he says to the hostess, who just stares at him for a second, jaw dropped slightly. It’s not the usual woman who gives him his orders, so he gives her a moment. She bounces back rather quickly.

“Uh, what’s the name?” She asks, trying not to draw any unwanted attention toward him, which he appreciates.

“Y/N.”

She taps away at the register, tells him the total, and he pays.

“I’ll go check and see if your order’s done. If not, it should be just a couple of minutes.”

“No problem.” He smiles.

“Harry?”

He turns to see a nervous looking girl with a bright tee knotted around her middle and a pretty pearl necklace tight around her neck. She brushes a tuft of brown hair over her shoulder, fiddling with her fingers. She’s only a little shorter than him, but she still doesn’t meet his eye.

“C-could I get a picture?”

He honestly doesn’t want to.

He knows that one photo will lead to dozens more, and he just wants to get his food, go home, and cuddle up with Y/N, but she looks sweet, and the hopeful look in her eyes makes him cave.

“Sure,” he says weakly, taking a quick photo.

“How’s Y/N?” The girl asks when she puts her phone away, desperate for a little more time with him. A beaming smile takes over his features, and he sits on a stool at the bar, feet tucking behind the bottom bars. It’s not very often he gets asked about her, but whenever he does, he takes full advantage of it; that is, of course, if the person seems genuinely interested and not just asking him for the sake of conversation.

The public was a little less than understanding or supportive of their relationship when it was, forcibly, made known. Being friends and neighbors since childhood, Y/N has been a present figure in the early parts of his life. They grew further and further apart after he left for The X Factor, to the point where they didn’t even speak to each other. It was tough because she wanted absolutely nothing to do with the life that he led, and he couldn’t just give up everything he worked so hard toward.

They reconnected some years ago when he was visiting home, and she had a break from uni. It was a slow build to what it is today, mostly because Y/N was hesitant about everything that came with being with him, like distance between them, negative publicity, and, of course, his fans, but, as she always said, he made everything worth it.

When their relationship was leaked in the press, they had to prematurely address the rumors. Not that Harry is embarrassed or ashamed of her, quite the opposite, really, but he just had one too many relationships fall apart due to the pressure the media put on them. He didn’t want to put Y/N through that; he didn’t want to see her to realize that, perhaps, he wasn’t worth the negative attention.

“She’s great,” he says. “We’re gonna go hiking later this evening, hopefully get a good view of the sunset.”

“That’s nice,” she smiles, happy that he’s happy, and he breathes out a sigh of relief. It’s refreshing to meet someone who is actually

His smile fades when a girl behind him scoffs.

“That’s surprising.”

He wants to believe that she’s not commenting on his conversation, but he knows better than anyone that she’s listening in; hell, he could feel the eyes of everyone in the diner the second he stepped inside, but just because he’s been doing this for years doesn’t mean that he’s not immune to the voices and the stares. He’s gotten pretty good at being able to ignore them, and he tries his best to do the same with her.

The brunette, who also seems to have noticed the girl behind him, flushes red, pity apparent on her features. He gives her an uncomfortable, closed mouth smile, trying to focus back on their own conversation.

“I mean, have you seen her?” The girl behind him continues, laughing lightly.

It makes his chest ache, anger settling deep in his stomach, burning and vengeful. Never has anyone made such blatant comments about her; they normally say that sort of stuff behind the safety of a screen and certainly not right in front of him. He knows what people say about his love. They make negative comments every little thing about her, the biggest one being her weight, and he never says anything because Y/N thinks that it would make everything worse, but she’s not here to hold him back.

He turns to face the girls behind him. The one whose back is still facing toward him, leaned in close to the other, as though that’s enough to hide what she’s saying.

“I beg your pardon?”

They’re both young, but surely old enough to know better. One of the girls, with brown hair with a pink strip in the front, blanches when he catches her eye, an apologetic look on her face; she looks close to tears, even, stuttering hopelessly.

“Dee—”

“I didn’t expect him to be a chubby chaser.”

“Excuse me?”

The girl with bright red hair, Dee, he assumes, finally turns to face him, a shameless smirk on her face.

“I am so sorry,” the brunette begins, but her friend, fueled by desperation and spite, cocks her head to the side, chest puffing out beneath a “Treat People with Kindness” shirt, the rainbow colored words taunting him.

How ironic.

“I mean… am I wrong?” She asks, looking at him expectantly.

“How dare you?” He seethes, standing fully, towering over her seated figure. He knows he shouldn’t be giving her the slightest bit of attention. That’s exactly what she wants, to get a reaction out of him, and he’s playing into her game, but he honestly doesn’t care. A heated red paints his skin, trailing up from his neck to the tip of his nose. He can barely breathe, let alone speak clearly, frustration and anger choking him.

He struggles to find his voice, but when he does, he can’t stop them from spilling out, malice and disgust dripping with every word.

“I have never been so disappointed and ashamed in someone who claims to be a fan of mine. How can you wear that shirt while passing judgement on someone I love very much, who you have never seen or met? And I pray that you will never meet her because she doesn’t deserve such vile things being said about her.”

He turns to see the hostess with a large paper bag in a stunned silence, and he takes it from her wordlessly.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters to the sweet girl, ashamed that he snapped like he did, but she gives him a proud smile and moves, so he can leave.

—

Someone apparently recorded the encounter, and the video is trending on Twitter by the time he gets home. Jeff is the one who told him about it, sending him a link and a long message about how much of a PR nightmare it’s going to be. Especially when the reception is less than positive. While some think he was being too nice, others are saying that he shouldn’t have lashed out (their words, not his) at someone who is a fan and supports him, but Harry knows that there is no winning. Everyone always finds something to say about things that are clearly none of their business. He even saw a few comments about Y/N, how she should fight her own battles and not have Harry do them for her.

They make him feel nauseous.

“Hey, babe,” he says as he enters their apartment, Munchy, Y/N’s cat, weaving and purring between his legs. Whenever he gets home, he can feel the stresses of the day shrink to nothing, and he’s finally able to relax. A smile creeps over his face when he sees her, leaning against the counter with a mug of tea cupped in her hands. She hasn’t changed out of the boxers and the large yellow tee from that morning, but her hair is still wet from a shower, the scent of her fruity soap strong.

“Hey,” she says softly, and he leans in for a kiss, only for her to turn at the last moment, lips unfortunately pressing to her cheek. She takes the bag from him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says, tugging the takeaway boxes from the bag, not even offering him a glance.

He knows that she’ll tell him what’s really wrong in her own due time, so he can’t push her; that makes it worse for everyone involved. However, he has gotten pretty good at coaxing it out of her. All it takes is a little patience and affection, and she’s putty in his hands.

He presses kisses to her temple, tracing his lips down the length of her tender skin to the shell of her ear, nibbling playfully. He dips his hand beneath her shirt, feeling her stomach tense beneath his touch. After such an exhausting day, he just wants to be with her, feel her warmth and love. He’s never really been able to find comfort or safety in any of his past lovers, and when he found that in Y/N, he never misses an opportunity to shower her with affection, teasing and biting at her skin. He just wants to melt and forget about his problems, to just be there, in the present, with her.

His little bubble is popped when she shoves his hand away, probably harder than she really meant to, but it hurts him, nonetheless. She turns and gives him a weak little smile, her eyes, glassy and unable to meet his gaze. She looks like a shell, nervous and empty, and he knows exactly why she’s acting the way she is. She must have seen the video and probably the nasty comments people left about her.

“Baby—”

“Let’s eat, yeah?” She changes the subject, pulling out some silverware from the drawer. “This one mine?”

“Yeah, your usual,” he says softly.

They eat in an awkward silence, old sitcom reruns playing in the background, tension thick in the air. He can’t focus on anything but her breaths, shaky and shallow with anxiety. He knows that this entire situation is weighing heavily on her mind, and he needs to get everything off his chest. He wants to pull her into his arms, stroke her hair, and tell her to not listen to anything anyone says, that she’s it for him.

It's going to happen, all in due time; he’ll get nowhere if he doesn’t go at her pace.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she mutters suddenly, picking at her food. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t want you putting your career at stake by standing up for me.”

He understands; he knows what it feels like to constantly be worried about what other people think, to have it impact every single decision you make. He’s mulled over everything he’s done for the past decade, but, at the same time, he’s her boyfriend first. He could honestly give a damn about his public image if it meant he had to stand by a listen to people say those nasty things about her.

“You would do the same for me,” he says, and she sighs.

“It’s not the same thing.”

“I don’t understand why we're arguing about this,” he says abruptly, placing his food onto the side table and turning fully toward her.

“I’m not—” She breathes out quickly, standing up. She tugs her clothes down, loosening them, and she crosses her arms, feeling vulnerable for some reason. Harry has never passed any judgement to her for the way she looked, knowing full well that she’s struggled with her weight her entire life, but this entire situation is making her feel insecure and weak and anxious. She feels like he is going to think that she’s being too sensitive about it, melodramatic about the severity of their comments.

“I’m not trying to start an argument. I just don’t think you understand that there’s going to be a lot of backlash for this.”

She’s embarrassed that he even needs to stand up for her. He should be with someone who is used to being in the spotlight, and, most importantly, he deserves to be able to go out with someone without people commenting or staring. He shouldn’t be with someone who makes people wonder why he’s with her, of all people.

It’s not only her physical appearance that people comment on; she’s seen fans talk about how Harry doesn’t go out anymore, how she is never present at any concerts or any other special events, even though they don’t know she has severe social anxiety and a career that keeps her from being with him all the time. She truly wishes she could be all of those things for him, but she can’t, and that’s what breaks her heart the most.

Harry deserves nothing less than the world, and he settled for her.

And with everyone else in the world questioning why he chose her, of all people, why wouldn’t he think the same?

“There would be even more backlash if I had just ignored it, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she says, “but, it’s not like it’s going to stop people from saying—”

She can’t even say it, their all too familiar words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. No matter how many times Harry tells her to pay no mind to their comments, she can’t help it. She truly hates how much other people’s opinions about her impact her, with paralyzing fear and doubt filtering through her thoughts on a daily basis, but she can’t help it.

“Saying what?”

“You know,” she whimpers, eyes glassy. “No matter what you do, there will always be people who say that I don’t deserve you. There will always be people out there who think I’m ugly o-or too fat for you and—” She chokes on her words, tears finally breaking through. A weak sob leaves her lips, faint and broken. “It’s not like it’s not true, so there’s no point in fighting it if it’s going to ruin your reputation.”

She starts to pace, one hand tucking into the curve of her waist while the other pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache forming.

“Whoa, hey, okay,” he stutters, standing. He holds onto her arms, hands rubbing over her cool skin, trying to comfort her, but she weakly pushes him away again, rubbing her nose. She pulls at the bottom of her shirt and wipes away her tears, leaving it wrinkled and wet. She sniffles, struggling to keep the panic from growing any further in her chest, heart racing painfully.

She moves into their bedroom, and he follows close behind, their food long forgotten as she tries to control her breathing.

“What’s this really about?” He asks. She pauses, her shoulders visibly sinking, and she sits on the foot of the bed, hooking her feet on the footboard. She cradles legs to her chest and tugs her shirt over them, forehead pressed against her knees.

She’s exhausted at this point. Ever since she saw the video and the comments, she’s been torn. She’s grateful that Harry said something; it made her hopeful that maybe it would make them stop, even if it was for only a day, but when she saw people actually defending the girl who said those terrible things about her, all of that pride was pulled away, leaving nothing behind other than debilitating anxiety and bone-chilling fear.

She just wants the day to be over, as if that will make everything go away.

She knows that they need to talk about it, but she’s afraid. She’s afraid of what this conversation could lead to; he could realize that he doesn’t want to deal with everything anymore or that he doesn’t want to deal with the strain that it puts on his relationship with the public.

The bed shifts as he kneels beside her, hand pressing against the small of her back.

“Y/N, please, don’t shut me out,” he whispers. She whimpers when he kisses her temple, an attempt at trying to ease her out of this miserable hole she’s dug for herself. She finally looks up at him with swollen, burning eyes, tears threatening to fall.

“I just don’t want you to wake up one day and realize that I’m not worth all of this. You shouldn’t even need to say anything to people.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have to say anything to them, but that has absolutely nothing to do with you. I have to say things because of all of the judgmental people in the world, who body shame the woman that I love, a woman who they know absolutely nothing about.”

“I don’t want you to start believing them, and I just don’t want you to regret me.”

“Why would I ever regret you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” She snaps, her lips quivering. “I’m not like the others.”

“That’s what I love about you.”

“I’m not cut out for this,” she cries.

Hurt passes over his features, and the words die on his tongue. A pinch of fear starts in his stomach and spreads up to his heart, which races painfully, chills rushing through his spine.

“What are you saying?”

She doesn’t answer; she can’t. She didn’t mean for it to slip out. It’s usually just a passing thought when her insecurities come at full force. She’s never actually said it aloud, for fear of its repercussions. She doesn’t want to lose him. Even if she isn’t cut out for this sort of lifestyle, he is worth absolutely everything.

“Y/N,” he says, cupping her cheeks. He wipes away her tears with his thumbs, but more fall to replace the ones he tried to clear. He hates how much this has affected her, and he hates that it’s his fault, too. She holds onto his wrists, fingers trailing up and down his heated skin, from his calloused hands to his elbows, their gaze never breaking.

“I love you. Nothing anyone says will make me feel differently. Would you still love me if I gained a ton of weight or if I was just skin and bones?”

“Of course,” she says quickly.

“This is no different,” he smiles. “I do regret many things in my life. I regret some choices I’ve made, I regret things I’ve said, and I regret being selfish. But you?” He shakes his head. “You will never be one of my regrets. You are beautiful inside and out. You make me want to be better, you make me look forward to every new day, and you give me strength.”

Her heart swells at his words. Harry has always been a very emotive man when it came to her. He was never ashamed to let her know exactly how he felt, probably because of the years where he felt hopeless and couldn’t express himself fully. He leans in a little closer, his forehead resting against hers, and she can feel her worries tapering off with every shallow breath.

“My love, you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, rubbing his nose against hers. He brushes away her tears, leaving her skin sticky. “Not one fuckin’ clue about the nights where I wanted nothing more than to be just with you, to be able to see you and laugh with you. Remember the night before my audition? And I asked if I could kiss you because I’d never kissed anyone before, and I didn’t want to seem like an absolute dud.”

She nods.

She pondered over that night for years. He was rambling and nervous, but she didn’t hear anything after he asked if he could kiss her, her mind going completely blank. Of course, she said yes. She had a crush on him for years, how could she say no? Even if it was just once, if it was just one fleeting moment in her life, she held onto it with everything she could.

It was her first kiss, too, and she was so nervous with trembling hands and clammy skin. It seemed too good to be true: the boy she’s liked since as long as she could remember was going to kiss her; perhaps, there was hope for them after all.

When they pulled apart, his hair messy and cheeks rosy, she thought that he was going to kiss her again. From the look in his eyes, he seemed like he was completely enamored with her, at a loss for breath with a soft gaze, but he didn’t. Her mind was playing tricks on her because all he said was “thanks”, and he laid back down, on his side, not even facing her. The hope she felt was crushed. Then, he left the next morning, and they never spoke about it again. The memory of that night leaves her heart aching.

“Bullshit, all of it. I jus’ wanted to know how your lips would feel against mine, how soft and warm your body would feel. For months, I would think about that night, and I wished I could go back and tell you the truth, that I loved you. You have no idea how grateful I am to have you back in my life, to have you here, by my side, to hold and love.”

As she gazes into his eyes, she can feel the truth in his words, the dedication, and the pain, most of all.

He doesn’t want to lose her like he did all those years ago.

He felt the same during those years apart, hopelessly wandering into the arms of various lovers to try to replace what he felt for her. He’s spent nearly an entire decade, searching for that one person to fill the void in his heart that Y/N claimed when they were just kids, much like she had with him. He yearned for a person, who would support and loyalty him just as she had, but they never cared as deeply as he did, nor did they feel and love just as strongly as he did.

“I love you for everything you are, not just your heart or your mind but also your beautiful body, babylove. Don’t let anyone tell you any differently.”

His lips tease over hers, just barely touching before she finally catches his lips after such a painstakingly long moment of silence after his confession, and they both are overwhelmed with the feeling of absolute relief, like they’re finally able to breathe.

He guides her onto her back, his knee nestling between her legs, blue sheets bunched up around her waist. He gently eases his hand below her shirt, fingers faint on the soft and pliant skin. She combs her nails through his hair, scratching and teasing. Her body alive and heated beneath his touch, they melt into each other, forgetting everything wrong with the world and focusing solely on each other, the pinch of teeth biting lips and the rush of chills down her spine. He feels up her thighs, tender touch on her soft skin, but she pulls away from him, fingers still latched in his hair, hesitation clear on her features.

“Please,” he whispers. “Jus’ wanna make you feel good.” He kisses her beneath the curve of her jaw, the warmth of his breath leaving her heart racing. “Wanna make you feel loved, make you feel as beautiful as you are.”

There’s not many things Harry can find safety with. Since his life in the public eye, he’s had to make a lot of sacrifices. It’s difficult to find considerate strangers, safe refuges, and genuine friends, but he knows that he can always find solace with her, in their home, together, blanketed in warmth and tangled up in blue.

—

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #ellie writes #ellie writes fluff #ellie writes angst #gif not mine #credit to owner

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jamilelucato · 4 years

Text

Faking It - Pt. 2 [F.W.]

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader; Fred Weasley x reader.

PART 1 || Part 3 || Part 4

Summary: You’re a Slytherin dating Draco Malfoy and life is pretty normal until Fred Weasley decides that the best prank against Draco involves you; this won’t end well, will it?

*gif not mine

[y/h/c] = your hair colour; [y/e/c] = your eye colour.

Warnings: cheating, I guess

Words: 3k+

A/N: This is a series, so be free to ask if you wanna be tagged. I’ll be posting one part per day, so check in tomorrow for Part 3!

Tag List: @marvelsmalfoy @naomi02hook

—

You walked in the Great Hall, paying very little attention to what your boyfriend was complaining. You were sure it was something about mudbloods, but which one of them, you had no idea.

You were looking around to find the Weasley twins, but they were nowhere. Some corner of your mind reminded you that they were generally late for breakfast and you sat next to Draco, thinking about what would you do if the gossip spread about your proximity with the red-haired boy last night.

"Love, do you have Potions first today?" Draco asked you, calling your attention.

You turned at him, "No, my first class today is Herbology," you answered, but you were a little worried about Draco. You were older than him — he should have known you two never shared classes.

Draco sighed while putting food on his and your plate. It was a habit of his to serve you, and you never bother with it.

Your relationship base is a lot of habits — some his, some yours. Your friendship started as kids — both came from purebloods families (and Death Eaters undercovers) — and it was around the end of last year that you two decided to give it a try. It started with innocent kisses, just as a pass time, and suddenly you two were acting around like a couple. It didn't take long for Lucius Malfoy to step in and "suggest" to Draco to be your boyfriend.

"So, who is left for Slytherin to defeat at Quidditch?" you asked, trying to make conversation while eating.

"After the glorious win against Gryffindor," Draco was very proud of his doings, "it's only the Hufflepuffs next. And we know how that will be easy."

You smiled at Draco, kissing his cheek. It was nice seeing him speaking about something with such happiness. Since his father started being more present in his life, Draco was smiling less and less.

That was when they walked in — the Weasley twins. They didn't even look at your table, at least, from that distance, they didn't seem to have done it.

They were both wearing the Gryffindor uniforms, but one of them looked more confident in his looks. Neither of their hairstyles looked like last night's, but the one more confident sure had taken more time with his hair. It probably meant that he was the one from the night before and that send a shiver through your spine.

Draco, who held your hand under the table, noticed how cold you had gotten.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Bad indigestion, that's it," you lied, avoiding his eyes.

The boys sat down with the other Gryffindor's you so familiarized with — the famous Harry Potter and his gang.

You kept eating, very focused on the food in front of you, not raising your eyes at the Weasleys until the end of the meal.

Draco held your hand while you walked out of the Great Hall at the same time Harry Potter's gang seemed to be leaving. It was an awkward encounter around the door because you and Draco had to part at that point because of the different classes.

"See you at lunch," he said, ready to give just a peck on your lips.

Although that was generally what the kisses of your relationship were, you knew you had an audience around, so you wanted to give them a little show before disappearing around the corridors.

You pulled Draco closer, to kiss him properly, reaching for his jaw as you hands touched him. He was shocked but didn't take long to be a participant. He reached for your waist and pulling you closer; his mouth was now open for your adventure.

He slowly pulled away, remembering he'd be late for class.

"See you later," you said while watching he walking away. You stayed at the door, frozen, and you could swear you heard someone say something.

But it could only have been your imagination since what you heard was the weirdest phrase ever: "I would have done better."

***

Fred was feeling a bit weird around the morning. He knew he had to keep his act towards y/N, but he just didn't feel like it anymore. It had been to weird last night — he having to be charming around her was not something he was use being and neither did he want to be used to that.

That was why, when leaving the Great Hall, the most repulsive phrase about y/N and Draco's kiss didn't come from him — but from his twin.

"George, why would do that?" he questioned his brother while waiting for McGonagall to show up or her class.

"Someone had to," he answered, "if your goal still is to seduce y/N."

Fred stayed in silence, avoiding to look at the Slytherins around them in class. Although none of them was you, he couldn't help but think you all looked the same.

"Was last night that terrible?" George asked.

"No," Fred responded, too quickly. "I guess," he added, trying to save himself.

If George noticed, he didn't mention it.

"How was she like?"

Fred was about to say rude, but that wasn't true. After all, he would have been harsh with you too if all of a sudden, you decided to be seductive around him.

"Stormy," he answered, finally concluding. "She was about to ruin my life but decided not to because of my threat. So I guess, right at the moment, she doesn't quite like me."

George pondered about it. "Stop being..." the youngest twin struggled with the adjective, "alluring around her."

"So how will I get her?"

"Try being nice, instead. She dates Malfoy, do you think she gets a lot of cuddles? 'Cause I doubt it," said George, whispering the last part, scared to say that name around so many Slytherins.

Fred was about to ask for more tips but dropped it once he saw the Professor walking in.

*** It wasn't on purpose that Fred bumped into you, but he was more than happy to use the incident for his benefit.

He didn't look up at you — he knew your face wouldn't be the most content. Instead, he got on one knee to collect your books from the floor.

"Thanks," you said, your voice so low it almost sounded like a whisper. Fred gave you your books back, nodding his head, saying nothing else. And then, he left.

No smirk, no smart comment. No mention of last night, nothing about him wanting to spend more time with you. Just a pure kind gesture of collecting your books from the floor.

You stopped at where you were, watching him leave. Was he drunk last night? It could only be the reason why he was acting so differently from before.

You held your books close before turning to the other side of the corridor — to where you knew she wouldn't run into Fred again. Draco would be waiting for you at the Hall, but you put those thoughts aside. You were much too confused to eat anything.

***

The first thing Fred noticed when he finally convinced himself to go to the Great Hall to grab a bite was that you were not there.

"I did what you asked," he told his brother while sitting down. "I was nice to her."

"And?"

"She froze. I guess I broke her," Fred informed. "So I left without a word."

George thought about what he had just heard. It wasn't his brother smart choice, but since he decided on that prank against y/N, Fred hadn't been in his right mind.

"You should have said something," George said.

"I know, but I just couldn't," Fred served himself, "If I had said something, she'd reply with an angry comment."

"Yeah, that's what she'd do," George's eyes wandered around the Hall, "but look, she's not here."

"Perhaps I scared her to death," sighed Fred. "This wasn't gonna work at all, was it?"

"Of course it can work, you just have to keep going," interrupted Angelina, opining over the matter she was eavesdropping. "If she froze, as you said, it means she was surprised. And if she didn't yet appear," the girl looked over the Slytherin table, "it means she's thinking about it."

Fred stared at Angelina, querying if he should believe what the girl was telling. He hoped it was true because he desperately wanted to prank Draco, and he'd need you to success at that.

***

"Where have been, love?"

It was Draco's voice, coming from behind you. You turned your face to see him — he was wearing his Quidditch uniform, which you didn't think looked quite good in him.

"Had a lot of homework," you lied, and Draco didn't even doubt as it was a recurring lie you told him every time you wanted to be alone.

The Slytherin common room was rather loud on that afternoon, but both of you didn't seem to notice.

"But are you alright?" he asked, raising a brow.

"I'm fine," you sighed, tilting your head. "Are you coming or going to practice?"

He bit his lip. "Going to it. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," you replied, "just be careful."

You knew the rest of the team was brutal.

"Always," he smiled, starting to walk away. He then stopped and turned back at you, "Don't wait up — Marcus said this will be the hardest training we had ever."

"Oh," you sighed, frowning. "Good luck, then."

"I'll be," he replied, but he didn't come near you to kiss you goodbye. Generally, that wouldn't have mattered, you wouldn't have even noticed. But that day it seemed to have bugged you.

***

Weeks passed by, but Fred never dropped his act. He followed his brother's suggestions, being gentle to y/N instead of seductive.

He had no idea if it was working or not, but he kept trying. He couldn't give up, not now after what he heard about the Slytherins — they had hurt another kid from Hufflepuff, probably harder than they hurt Harry.

He would meet you around the corridors of the school, and he would always give you a kind smile as if he understood everything that was going on in your life. Fred even opened doors for you, and with the extra help of the Marauder's Map, he kept showing up everywhere you were.

You were confused with what Fred meant with all that niceness. You two were never friends, and being friendly with each other was something neither of you tried to be.

However, you couldn't deny he was growing in your concept. You'd never thought much about the Weasleys, and at the beginning of the month, you couldn't even tell the twins apart. But, with the passage of days, you started noticing that the twin that kept staring at you with puppy eyes was taller, although just a little, than the other. He also had more freckles around the nose, as the other had more around his cheeks.

To finally find out the name of the twin, you started walking closer to their group of friends, eavesdropping on their conversations, in the hope a name would get dropped.

It was Pansy Parkinson, though, who ultimately clarified things to you. She came in your dorm with one of the girls that slept in the same room as you, telling the "new gossip of the day".

One of the twins — and that was George Weasley — was dating Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor's Chaser. Her tone insisted on a joke; she claimed the relationship wouldn't last.

"I mean, come on, who would trust to be those boys' girlfriends?" said Pansy, and you shrugged. "They are evil troublemakers, you know, I doubt they can be loyal."

"Maybe she just wants to have fun as well," you said, avoiding Pansy's eyes.

The gossip girl, however, didn't take her time to convince you, and quickly she and her friend left the dorm.

You stayed in bed, thinking about what you had just heard. So one of the twins was dating, which could only mean that the one being nice and charming around you was Fred.

That don't change anything, you thought, puffing. It could even have been George all the time; what difference would that make? It was not like you were interested, right?

Oh, Merlin, you needed to see Draco. You needed to kiss him again, kiss him like you two have been avoiding for days, so you could remind yourself that you were in a relationship with someone that liked you very much.

You walked out of the dorm, looking around for your boyfriend, but he wasn't there. You decide to leave the Slytherin's place, and ramble the castle — it was your only chance to find him.

However, you would need to be extra careful not to face Mr Filch, because this time you no longer had the Prefect's badge to give you some authority. The former Prefect was healthy again and restored to her position.

"Draco?" you called his name inside one empty classroom, but no one answered.

You went to every spot you could think Draco would be at but did not find him. So, you decided to stop at the Astronomy Tower, and take some quiet time for yourself, looking to the beautiful night sky.

The thing was: you didn't expect for someone already to be there.

It wasn't your boyfriend — the night sky would not affect his golden locks of hair, so you wondered who could it be. You were about to turn around and leave when a voice spoke.

"Stay — I'm leaving, anyway," Fred Weasley turned. He was not smiling at you this time; he pressed his lips together as if he was afraid to say too much.

"No worries, Fred," you replied, avoiding his eyes, "you can stay."

"Not gonna report me this time?" he asked, trying to be funny.

"No longer a Prefect," you informed, coping his expression.

He let out a low "oh" and turned back at the sky. It seemed as if he was asking you to join him, and you stayed still for a moment, wondering if you should.

"How you knew it was me and not my brother?" he asked as soon as you reached the parapet. Neither of you stared at each other; you were scared to do so, and he was afraid it would be too soon.

"What are you talking about?" you played dumb. "I always knew how to distinguish you from George."

"No, you didn't," he replied. "You use to call me George all the time when we were younger."

"Everybody gets confused when it comes to you two sometimes," you said, not brave enough to confess you've been paying close attention lately, "I just took a lucky guess."

Fred smiled at your lame excuse, but you weren't able to see it.

"So what are you doing here, past-curfew?"

You sighed, "I could ask you the same."

"Couldn't sleep," he said, but you didn't believe it. It was way too early for someone to be trying to sleep, especially if that someone was Fred Weasley.

Since you had no idea why would he have lied, you decided to answer the question yourself.

"Was looking for Draco, but couldn't find him."

Fred finally looked down at you, his dark eyes sparkling with the light of the moon.

"He's probably at his room, did you knock there?" you were surprised with Fred's suggestion. You were expecting him to reply with a smart comment, something similar with what you were sure he said when you kissed Draco in the Great Hall entrance, many days ago.

As simple as it sounded, the idea of knocking at his room did not occur to you. You bit your lower lip, embarrassed.

"No," you answered, feeling your cheeks turning red.

Fred didn't say anything else, most likely because he had no idea of what to say. It was not like you two had much in common — it was already a big coincidence that you both liked to use the Astronomy Tower to think.

He turned his back at you, ready to leave. "Good night," he whispered, but you practically didn't hear due to the wind.

"Fred!" You called him, not sure why, but it felt like you two still had a lot to talk.

He turned his face at your direction, and you gulped, thinking of what to say. You two kept staring at each other for a while, and you knew you were more flushed now than you were before.

You sighed, breathing out. "Nothing," you set Fred free, knowing there wasn't anything right for you two to keep talking.

Fred diverged his eyes from you, lowering his head while his hands wandered his hair. It was a very tempting view, you thought.

As fast as he was about to leave, Fred walked closer to you, reaching for your waist in such a delicate but precise movement. You wondered if he had been planning to do that from the beginning.

His lips encountered yours, and what at first was a shock, turned into a pleasure. He tasted like chocolate, something you was not at all expecting. The kiss was far from being delicate at that point — it had turned into a battle for dominance, where you both could only feel the intensity.

The immense desire to be closer, making you stretch to touch his hair — that was very soft just like you expected. Everything felt right, and it was perfect until you started comparing it with kissing Draco.

How Draco lately never let your kisses last more than a couple of minutes. How Draco's hair had so much gel, it wasn't as soft as Fred's. How Draco was never that desperate to kiss you as Fred was, pulling you in every time you tried to break apart.

It was the mention of Draco that brought you back to reality because you were not kissing your boyfriend. You were kissing someone else, someone who you spent years resenting.

You finally let go of Fred's lips, in an attempt of gasping for air, to get back to the real world.

You hand reached for your mouth, and it stayed there as if preventing Fred to try and kiss you again.

"Fred, why would you..." but you couldn't speak properly, your voice was hoarse.

The red-haired boy stayed quiet, looking as much guilty as you.

"I'm sorry," he said but didn't sound very convincing.

"If you dare tell this to a soul..."

"I won't" he interrupted you, this time more credible.

You gasped one more time before running away from that place. What was wrong with you? You should've left ages ago! You shouldn't have let him even touch you before disappearing!

You didn't even think of looking for Draco, imagining Fred's smell would be all over you by now. You hushed back to your dorm, trying hard not to wake any of the girls that slept with you. Finding your bottle of perfume, you splashed a lot of its content in you before getting under the covers.

It was hard falling asleep, but you found a good mantra: that kiss meant nothing — you wanted Draco, you desired for his kiss, and because you couldn't find him, you settled with the Weasley.

If it was a lie, it was at least a pretty convincing one, since you were able to fall asleep quickly after repeating it at least a thousand times.

PART 3 HERE

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #Fred and George #Fred and George Weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x slytherin reader #george weasley #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin #slytherin reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic

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harrystyleswatermelon-sugar · 4 years

Text

Gas station encounter - Part I

I hate this day, I really hate it. It´s pouring, I got soaked on my way to my car this morning because my fucking umbrella broke due to the wind and I arrived late and very wet at the hospital. Luckily I have everything there to fix my appearance just in time for the big meeting with very famous doctors in our hospital.

It didn’t go well is the best I can say about it. I sigh and pull into the gas station. I would rather like to go home directly but I need to get gas.

I get out in London´s cold and wet weather, pulling my coat tighter around my body. I shut the door a bit too aggressive and turn around to get the pistol. As I move, I can feel a rip and the sound of ripping clothes. Oh no, please not my very expensive and very new coat, I think as I turn back around and look at what I ripped.

It is my coat that’s hanging in my closed door. Dangling in the wind and I growl frustrated as I look at my back, to see how much I destroyed my coat.

“Ma´am please hurry up, there are other people here too,” an elderly man says annoyed and I sigh, as I pull the gas pistol in my car. I hate humans and I definitely hate this day. I see a young man in short sports trousers, a T-Shirt and a beanie, who is talking on the phone while filling up his car. This is irresponsible and while the pump fills my car, I walk over to him and say:

“Not to be rude, but you are risking everybody´s lives here when you use your phone. That’s dangerous and most of all, forbidden” the guy turns around and I freeze. Holy shit, this is Harry Styles right in front of me. I look at the car and see a red sports car, probably very expensive. He smiles at me and says:

“I´ll call you back, Jeff” he hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket.

“You are right, I am sorry. Please forgive me” he says and I roll my eyes at him. I still have a bad day and I am not in the mood for an arrogant pop star.

“Fine, just please don’t light up a cigarette, when I turn around” I growl and head back to my car. I try to catch another glimpse of him, but he seems to be done and walks inside to pay. This is a bit odd, to see someone like him do totally normal things like getting gas. My tank seems to be full and I pull the pistol out, as Harry comes back out of the station. He winks at me and I shoot a half-smile in his direction.

He drives off and I sigh, as I walk in to pay.

“Number 4 please,” I say to the cashier and he nods, looking at his screen.

“Actually, it already has been paid. The young man with the red sports car took care of it” he says and I look confused. He paid for my gas? Why?

“Oh…okay then. Eh…have a nice day” I reply and get back to my car. No one will ever believe me, that Harry Styles paid my gas.

A week later I stop at my usual gas station. Every day, when I drive along this road I watch out for his red sports car but I never see him. Maybe it was just a stop far away from home. Today has been a very nice day. I finished work early, the weather is nice and I have a date later tonight with my friends in a fancy bar. Becca is having a small birthday party there and because she just finished her dissertation, she invited us to this nice bar.

I get my gas, as I see a big black car with tinted windows stopping behind me. While I wait for my tank to be filled, I can see Harry exiting the car.

“Hello there,” he says and smirks at me. I turn a light shade of red and return the smile.

“Hello. Thank you for paying my gas last time, but how comes?” I ask and lean against my Audi.

“I figured you had a bad day and wanted to brighten it up. Did it work?” he asks and puts the pistol in his car.

“Sure did. I really had a bad day, I am sorry for scolding at you. That wasn’t very nice of me,” I say and look at him. Today he wears a normal pair of jeans and a white shirt. His hair is pulled back and put into a bun.

“That´s great. Had a better day today?” he asks and turns to face me. I nod and he comes closer, extending his hand.

“Great, I am Harry,” he says and I chuckle. Of course, I know who you are.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you. Don’t you have staff to get gas?” I ask and he raises an eyebrow.

“No, I don’t. I try to do as many normal things, as I can” he answers and I laugh a little.

“I am surprised you are not already swarmed by fans,”

“They don’t expect me here, like you. It´s kind of funny that we meet again at the same station” he giggles and I shrug my shoulders.

“I use this station every week because it is on my way home from work” my voice sounds a bit raspy and I cough, as my pistol clicks and tells me that my tank is full. I go inside and pay for the gas and on my way out, I meet Harry in the door again.

“Have a nice day, Y/N. Until next time” he winks at me and I laugh, doubting that I will meet him a third time. That would be way too much luck.

“Bye, you too,” I reply and walk back to my car to get home.

I pull on the hem of my skirt and look in the mirror one last time. I chose a dark green skirt, which ends at my knees and a white shirt with some straps on the back. It is very flowy and I feel good in it, despite it showing skin from behind. I dressed up a bit, put more dramatic make-up on and chose a bit of jewellery to go along with my outfit. I am happy with my looks and grab my dark coat. I am still very sad that I ripped my new trenchcoat, but this one will do.

I arrive a bit late at the bar, but I already texted when I was on my way. My friends are waiting with a delicious margarita for me.

“Hey, I´m sorry for being late. Becca, all the best wishes for your birthday AND your dissertation. I am so proud of you, lawyer” I say to her and hug her very tightly.

“Oh thank you, lovie. I am so grateful you could make it today. Wouldn’t be the same without you,” she smiles at me as I kiss her cheek. After we hugged, I put down my coat and bag and greet the other girls warmly.

“This is really fancy, Becca. Do I need to behave here?” I ask and everybody laughs. We all know that I am very sassy, especially when I have been drinking.

“Isn´t this crazy? A few years ago we sat in a crappy bar and discussed If we could afford another drink and today we are here, all grown up and fancy. No more ugly clothes and horrible haircuts, what a glow-up” Lisa says and we all nod. She is right, this is amazing.

“Just look at Becca and Kate, our lawyers and Y/N our doctor, very successful. I own my own business and Lisa is managing her hotel. We really did it” I smile at the table and remember all those funny evenings in pubs around the corner of our university. It was a great time and I wouldn’t want to miss it for anything. And I love these girls, we grew really close and I am so glad to have these four girls in my life.

“To us and of course to our birthday girl Becca” I propose and hold up my glass. We salute each other and then we hand her our birthday present. We organized a full weekend at a spa outside of London with all of us. She loves it, I can see that before she even says anything. We always complain about not having enough time together and this was the first that shot through our minds.

The bar starts to fill a bit and around 10 pm every table is taken. We giggle, drink and snack on some of the food on our table.

“I really need a wee, who want to come?” asks Lisa and I get up.

“I do, I need to pee as well. You know where?” she nods and we walk next to each other.

“So, how has life been to you?” she asks me and I giggle.

“Pretty good actually. I am happy and no I haven’t met someone, I know you are going to ask,” she grins and opens the door to the restrooms.

“You are right, I was going to ask” she replies and I shake my head at her. Always the same question. When we stand next to each other at the sink and wash our hands I remember who I met today.

“Oh, I have met someone. Twice to be honest” I laugh and dry my hands, while Lisa stares at me very curious.

“Who? Tell me! Who is it you are interested in and how did you meet and is he nice and oh my god, this is crazy. You never meet men, you like. I am excited” she claps her hands and I roll my eyes at her.

“No, I am not interested in him. We ran into each other a week ago at the gas station and today again. I was rude to him the other day, so I apologized and he took it very well he tried to brighten up my day when we first met and paid for my gas while I was still outside” I smile at the thought of him being so nice.

“You like him. What´s his name?” she asks and I look around, to be sure no one hears what I say.

“It´s Harry Styles, I am not joking,” I say and she rolls her eyes at me, walking past me.

“I hate you, you always make fun of me. I just want you to be happy and you make fun of me” she scowls and leaves the restrooms.

“Lisa, I am serious. It really happened” I assure her but she just shakes her head. I never thought that she wouldn’t believe me. I didn’t even think of that, but I get it. I wouldn’t believe her either.

I sit down and feel someone staring at me. I see up and meet familiar eyes and a familiar smirk. I smile at him and feel my heartbeat fasten. What a weird coincidence that we meet again today. While everybody chats and laughs, I try to stay involved in the conversation but I catch myself several times looking at him. And he looks at me, smiles and looks away as if he is shy and insecure. My girls haven’t seen him yet and he seems to be unbothered by fans.

Sometime later we move our little group closer to the bar as other tables do the same. I stay between two of my friends as I feel a tap on my shoulder and I see Lisas and Beccas face staring in shock behind me. I know who it is without turning around and I smile, while I face him.

“Hello Harry, long time no see,” I laugh and he chuckles, while his eyes wander over my face. They are mesmerizing green and maybe they are a little bit clouded from the alcohol.

“Hey, Y/N. Told you, we would meet again. Hello, I´m Harry” he introduces himself with a slight wave at my friends and rests his eyes on me again.

“So is your day still good?” he asks and I nod.

“Yes and yours? You seem to have a good day every day” he laughs and shakes his head.

“Absolutely not but I try to make the best out of the bad days….Ladies, may I invite you all to a drink and to join us at our table?” he asks politely and my friends nod in excitement. He grins at me and we follow him to his friends. We introduce ourselves and everybody takes a seat, mine is next to Harry.

He orders some drinks for everybody and I feel Lisas eyes on me. She looks apologetically and I smile, it´s okay I am not mad at her. We smile at each other and I look at everybody chatting and having fun, when the drinks arrive.

“Cheers to new friends,” Harry says and we clink glasses with everybody.

“I can´t believe we ran into each other again,” he says and I smile at him, looking at his beautiful face.

“It´s kinda funny, right. With which of your cars are you here?” I ask him teasingly and he chuckles.

“With none. I came with a cab” he smiles and I can´t help it but the butterflies in my stomach erupt violently. Oh please don’t fall for a fucking superstar. I beg myself as Becca asks:

“How do you know each other?” the table falls silent and I look at Harry.

“We met at a gas station and she scowled at me for using my phone. Do you want to know, what she said after I apologized to her?” he asks and I turn red and shake my head, but surely everybody wants to know.

“She said quote: Please don’t light a cigarette when I turn around and I was so surprised how sassy she was. She obviously knew who I was but she just mocked me nevertheless. I liked that and surprisingly we met again today and she apologized, that’s how we met” he explains and leaves out, that he even paid for my gas.

“He paid for my gas the first time, because he thought it would brighten my day” I add and my friends say “aaaaaw” very unison.

“By the way, that is just Y/N. Always straight forward and sassy. We love her for being the way she is, she is the best” says Kate and the others agree.

“I like her too” Harry murmurs only so I can hear it and I redden again. Does he really like me? That’s insane.

“You are not bad yourself” I wink at him and he shoots me a crooked grin.

“So, why are you always at the same gas station?” he asks and I look a bit confused. Isn´t that obvious?

“It´s on my way home. I drive home every day so when I need to get gas, I stop there” I explain and he nods. Maybe the workday of a popstar looks more different than I thought. He probably hasn’t the same way home from work every day.

“Oh ok, that makes sense. What is your day job?” he looks at me and I turn my eyes down to my hands, which are nervously fiddling with each other. I am in fact a bit nervous, who wouldn’t be when Harry Styles is talking to you?

“I am a paediatrician” I reply and I can see his eyes light up.

Part II

Hello lovelies,

I hope you liked chapter 1 of this short story. It was planned as a usual OS but I think it has now over 30 pages in word. Sorry not sorry, leave me some replies so I know you wanna read it. I´m not really sure about this one tbh.

Love, xx

Julia

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles smut #Harry Styles Imagine #Harry Styles FF #Harry Styles blurb #Harry Styles Oneshot #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles fluff #1d #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction imagine #one direction oneshot #1dff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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loudsuitlover · 4 years

Text

Doctor Harry IV Dulce introducción al caos

A/N: This is pretty much a story. Like a real one. And there are more than two characters and I love them all and I’m excited about this. Thank you to everyone who reads my shit. You’re great.

Part I Part II Part III

INDIE’S POV

I have avoided Harry today. That’s so silly, I know; because he probably didn’t give the other night much relevance. I mean we just had a pizza, well he did, and I threw up. I threw up a lot; but he’s a doctor, he’s used to seeing people throwing up every day and I’ve had pizza with professor Gibbins before; that day I stayed with him for practice after lunch. But for some reason, after he saw me like that, it’s embarrassing for me to encounter him.

I just had to come over for the clinical session before their day starts because I have class afterwards anyway and Harry’s not here so I reckon I won’t see him today. Maybe I don’t ever have to see him again so I can’t stop this stupid desire I have for him. It’s pathetic really but he’s just so attractive. I mean I know he is, not just for me, because I’ve seen the way girls look at him and I know Olivia would gladly take off her undies if he wanted to take her to bed. Jason’s name appears on my screen after I go out of the clinical session.

“Hey, J.”

“Hi.”

We haven’t talked directly since last Friday when I was a jerk to him. He’s talked on the group chat so I know he’s been alright but the fact that he’s calling me is a good sign. I thought he was mad at me. I know he doesn’t like it when I talk about David like that, but I also think someone has to say something. I worry about him and I only tell him because I love him and I don’t want anyone to hurt him.

“Are you busy?” He asks.

“I just came out of the clinical session we have to attend to.”

“Right.” I hear him breathe in. “Was Harry there?”

“No, he wasn’t.”

There’s a pause and I bet he’s nodding.

“Well, how are you?”

“I’m good. I wasn’t calling you for this.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I should be.” He sighs. No, he shouldn’t. “But I’m fed up with getting mad at you for the exact same thing every single time. You have your opinion and I think you’re a meddlesome but I know you mean well.”

I choose not to answer to that because I know we’re unable of discussing that without fighting and I don’t feel like confronting him at eight thirty in the morning.

“I was just calling to tell you I can’t go to your Mum’s exhibition.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I forgot I had promised David I was going to go with him to his hometown.”

“That’s in two weeks.” I tell him. “Can’t you go to his hometown any other weekend?”

“Well, no, we’ve already talked to his family… You don’t mind, right?”

I’m tired of David’s shit. He probably organize the whole thing so that Jason couldn’t hang out with us especially if he was going to “dangerous territory” because he knows it was my mum’s exhibition. I’m beyond mad. I start walking outside and bump into Harry whose eyebrows raised as he looks at me. I’m about to walk away when Mr Gibbins stops me and tells me to wait for him before he disappears inside his office. I talk to Jason under Harry’s attentive stare.

“What do you mean I don’t mind? Of course I mind! You barely hang out with us anymore and that was going to be a special night. You know it means a lot to me that you guys are there.”

He sighs.

“I’m very sorry, Indie. I just can’t cancel on my family-in-law. I’d go if it was any other weekend but…”

I can hear the regret on his voice and that’s what drives me crazy. He wants to come it’s just fucking David.

“You’re not coming because David doesn’t want you to come.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Listen, J, I know some people forget about their friends when they have a boyfriend because well, you can’t fuck your friends, but I never thought you were going to be one of those people. I thought we were more important to you. You could make some time for us too.”

“Can’t we have a Golden Girls’ day this week?”

“No.”

I want to hang up but for the first time in forever he seems to be listening and I won’t take this opportunity away. Jason is smart and handsome and funny and kind, he could have any partner he wanted to, so I don’t understand why he would settle with such an arrogant controlling toxic prick.

“Tell him to fuck off for once, J. Having a boyfriend doesn’t mean you can’t go out with your friends alone every once in a while.”

“We went out on Friday…”

“Because he had gone out with the team too!” I take a deep breath. “Don’t you want to come with us?”

“Of course I want to go with you. You just don’t get it. He…”

“What? He hits you?”

“WHAT?” He all but yells. “NO! Indie, how can you say that?”

“Well, I don’t know anymore, J. He reminds me too much of Javier.”

“He’s nothing like Javier.”

“He does the exact same things.”

“No, he doesn’t. He loves me.”

“Yeah, Javier used to say he loved me too but that’s a very weird way of showing it.”

There’s complete silence from his end. I start fearing he’s hang up until I hear him take a deep breath. I don’t know whether he’s quiet because he doesn’t want to be rude to me or whether he just doesn’t know how to deny what’s obvious anymore but I can’t keep having this conversation here.

“Listen, J, if you don’t come I just won’t understand it and of course I mind. You know there are two people in a couple and he doesn’t get to decide every little thing. You’re your own person and get to decide your shit too. Just think about it and of course call me if you need anything. You know I love you.”

With that I hang up. I know I have to be on his side no matter what but this topic really gets on my nerves. How they stood by my side when I was with Javier is beyond me but I know he’s gonna need his friends if he’s going to break up with him which I hope he does soon.

“Problems?”

My eyes move up from the floor before me until they meet with Harry’s. He’s staring at me with a worried look on his face. Has he been listening?

“No.”

“Who’s David?” He asks.

“Jason’s boyfriend.”

“And Javier?”

Man, he’s so nosy. My expression is hard but I’m not really mad at him. I’m mad at David and frustrated with Jason but not mad at Harry. I have to remind myself that before I let my anger out on him.

“He’s mine.”

“But you said you didn’t have a boyfriend.” He’s frowning.

When did I say that?

“I don’t.” My eyes hold his and I watch his expression softens. Does he care? “I meant he’s my ex.”

He nods his head.

“Are you always so blunt or is it just with me?”

“I’m not blunt.”

“You didn’t use to be but don’t think I haven’t realized you avoided me today. And yesterday.”

“I didn’t avoid you yesterday.”

“You stayed with Dulce for your practice.”

“Dulce’s a very-”

“You always go with me for practice.”

My mouth opens so I can argue when professor Gibbins stands next to me with a confused expression and a folder on his hand.

“Is everything alright?” He asks having a look at his folder so he doesn’t have to look at Harry or me I suppose.

“Yeah.”

Harry answers for me before he walks away with a frown. I can’t believe he’s actually mad that I didn’t bother him yesterday or this morning? I mean nobody wants to have a student following them around the hospital and asking questions and taking notes. All of sudden he likes teaching?

Professor Gibbins and I walk together to class on a professional silence until he makes conversation asking me about how my study is going. I tell him I like his notes because they’re easy to understand and I appreciate the effort he put at making them and he ends up blushing. Professor Gibbins is very cute. He walks around pretending he’s this cool guy with a big motorbike and a cool leather jacket but you can easily tell deep down he’s like a little boy with a toy. I wonder whether he likes videogames like my brother.

I join Marie as professor Gibbins get the ppt ready for the lecture. There’s no sight of Olivia or Jason obviously because this lecture is not mandatory and on wednesdays we all have hospital practice in the afternoon. Marie tells me they’re both coming to have lunch with us at the restaurant we like. The Chambers is just ten minutes away from the hospital and they have really, really great food at a very affordable price. I reckon the fact that it’s not on a well-known area lowers the prices of the meals but the food is signature cuisine and the staff is great so we love the place.

Professor Gibbins tells us the Surgery and Anesthesia department had decided the hospital practices should end with an essay so that we could actually get a mark on that so all the hours at the hospital would have a more rewarding result. I hate essays but I understand and I think it’s a fair idea.

“I’ll send you the list with your tutors afterwards. I think you all know them but it’s possible that someone has a tutor they’ve never met because we’ve tried not to overload anyone with work.” He states. “Well that’s all guys. See you on Friday.”

Marie and I leave the lectures hall gossiping about Olivia and Mario. Apparently they kissed on Friday night. The girls told me Saturday morning when I woke up at their apartment and Olivia was embarrassed to death. It was funny to see her like that because Olivia is never embarrassed of being sexually free and hooking up with whoever she wants but for some reason she was mortified about this.

Jason and Ollie are already sitting at a table when we get to The Chambers and I set my eyes on Jason’s, trying to get the vibe we stand now, and I can tell he’s sorry. His eyes look at me with regret so I give him a little smile. I still want him to come to my mum’s exhibit but we still have ten days for him to come around. I hold his hand over the table and he gives me a smile back.

“Wait, what’s that?”

Marie’s eyes bulge out of her sockets as she stares at Jason’s neck. I lift my ass off my chair so I can lean over the table and have a look myself.

“That’s a bite clear as day.” Ollie giggles.

Jason blushes.

“It was David…”

“What an animal.”

Marie seems horrified, her green eyes fixed on the bread.

“Did it hurt?” She asks.

“No.” J places a hand on her shoulder as if trying to reassure her. “He did it on purpose.”

“What?”

“I did one on him too.” He shrugs. “So that everyone knows he’s mine and I’m his.”

I’m afraid my eyes are going to fall off from my face.

“You mean he marked you like livestock?”

Jason rolls his eyes but I can tell he’s embarrassed.

“You can twist it as you like, Indigo, but it’s something intimate and romantic.” He defends him. “And if you need to know, it gets me hard as a rock when he does that.”

“Jason!” Marie scolds him.

“It’s completely out of place. The fact that he’s aggressive on bed can be a turn on but he shouldn’t be controlling in your life out of the bedroom and have you marked like a cow. You’re not his property, J. You’re yours.”

“I belong to whoever the fuck I want, Indigo. Why can’t you understand that? And don’t you find it funny that you’re trying to control me by telling me David is controlling?”

I count to ten. I don’t want to punch him in the face.

“I haven’t forbidden you to go to his mum’s exhibition.”

I know he wanted this to stay between us. That’s why he called me instead of saying he couldn’t come on the group chat because we both know the girls would give him some shit for not supporting my mum.

“What?” Marie asks.

“That’s not it at all. I can’t go because we have a commitment to his family.”

“Can’t you have a commitment any other weekend?”

“No.”

“Does it turn you on when he tells you what to do?” I ask him.

“On bed, yes.”

“And out of bed?”

“It’s more complicated than that. Sometimes he gives me orders that ends up on sex and that’s not a bad thing. It’s just another way of understanding sex, Indie. I wish you’d respect that.”

“I would respect that if it was only about sex. You do you in bed, whatever gives you pleasure. I’m just saying you should draw the line. Show him he isn’t in control of your life even though he might be in control during sex. You’re your own person and you should be in control of your own life.”

Jason sighs. I know what I can say isn’t going to solve anything but something tells me, even though he tries to convince me he doesn’t listen to me, that he does. I know I keep him thinking and for now, that’s all I want. I place my hand on his wrist on the table.

“You know I love you.”

His green eyes meet mine and he nods.

“I love you too.”

I know he’s angry at me but that doesn’t change the way we feel about one another.

“Oh my God you won’t believe this.” Marie’s looking down at her phone with her mouth opened in a tiny circle.

Jason, Ollie and I look at each other without understanding until she looks up from her phone and explains.

“Professor Gibbins sent us the lists as he said he would.”

“Which lists?” Jason asks.

“We have to make an essay for the practice. It’s a couple of clinical cases that a tutor would give us.”

“Do we choose the tutor?” Ollie asks.

“No, that’s what the lists are about. They assign you the tutor.”

“And what’s what we won’t believe?”

“Student Indigo Blue Anderson” I flinch as Marie reads my full name “Tutor Harry Styles.”

My eyes bulge out of my sockets and I choke on my water. Olivia taps on my back as I bring a hand to my throat. What kind of joke is this?

“But that’s not all…” Marie bites on her bottom lip. I’m afraid what she will say next. “Student Olivia Bassot, tutor Mario Matteoti.”

Olivia stops tapping my back to freak out herself and Jason laughs out loud as both Olivia and me look ahead with eyes wide opened.

“There’s no way this was a coincidence.”

“Do you think they got to choose?”

“That or it was professor Gibbins who did the distribution.” Jason laughs. “This should be fun.”

One hour later, after lunch and discussing Mario and Olivia’s fling and the possibility that the same thing happens between Harry and me, I’m making my way towards the Anesthesia doctors’ room where I hope to find Harry. I’m going to tell him he’s my tutor and then I’ll find someone else to do the practice with but I’ll inform him because my friends thought he had the right to get offended when I just disappeared on him without any warning. I still don’t get it but if it’s four against one, they might be right.

I knock on the door and wait for someone to let me in. He’s sitting on the desk typing on his laptop when he sees me. His green eyes set on me as I walk towards him.

“Are you busy?” I ask.

He hums as if considering whether he can give me his attention or not before he points at the chair next to him.

“I just need another minute and then I’m with you.” He smiles.

I take a seat next to him and place my hands on my thighs. It’s crazy I get complete changes of mind every time I’m close to him. This weekend it was easy to decide it wasn’t a good idea to keep up our weird friendship but now I see him and I remember he actually texted me and I feel all sorts of butterflies on my belly. That’s just silly but he smells so good and his skin looks so tight over his muscles and his eyes are so beautiful and he seems so smiley all the time.

There’s another doctor on the room but when she leaves we’re left alone and less than a minute after that Harry turns his body so his corporal language lets me know I have his full attention. He raises his eyebrows as if asking me what I need.

“I just wanted to let you know you’re my tutor for this essay we have to do.”

He smirks.

“I know.”

“Okay.”

My eyes set on his. I want to ask him why he knows, I want to ask him whether it was a coincidence but I would be mortified if he went “of course it was, what were you thinking?” so instead I just shut my mouth and take a deep breath.

“Well I-“

“Wait” he sucks his lips inside his mouth and then he frowns. I know by now that’s his serious expression. “Before you continue, I wanted to apologize.”

I raise my eyebrows. I wasn’t expecting that.

“My reaction this morning was out of line. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like… I mean I’m aware I’m six years older than you, I’m also on a position of… I don’t know how to say this without it sounding bad but.. I guess on a position of power over you in some way so I wouldn’t want you to feel like you have to be nice to me just because I kind of supervise your way around the hospital and… I wanted to apologize if I crossed a line or if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

Why did that sound so sexy? And why do I not want him to say that? He also realized this can’t be and this is not good for either of us but then again that means there is indeed something, isn’t it? I need to tell the Golden Girls this. I feel lots of different ideas colliding in my mind but there are too many for me to focus on any of them and understand what is it exactly what I’m thinking. All I know is I didn’t like him when he said that.

“You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.” I confess.

I see his green eyes sparkling as they focus on mine and I feel like he’s trying to read me as hard as I’m trying to read him. His shoulders are tensed as if he was ready to run any minute from now.

“So would you stay with me in your practice?” He smiles timidly.

I nod my head, his shyness is contagious.

“We can work on your essay.” He offers.

“Cool.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

“Aren’t you supposed to give me a clinical case?”

“Yeah” Is he blushing? “But if there’s anything that’s interesting to you, we can work on that. I mean if there’s something you don’t quite understand or something you’d like to know more about, I could search for an interesting clinical case about that.”

That’s very nice of him. I bet most tutors would just give students well-trodden clinical cases or clinical cases they’ve solved themselves so as to work as little as possible but he doesn’t mind working double to make things easier for me.

“I don’t know… Maybe we could do something about anesthesia on an epileptic patient? I think that could be interesting.”

His eyebrows raise and he smiles at me.

“You’re very smart, do you know that?” He tilts his head and I giggle. I can’t believe I just giggled. “Let’s see what I have here.”

With that he begins his search and turns his laptop screen to me so I can see what he’s doing too.

“You don’t have patients now?”

“I’m on consultation today.” He answers without looking at me. “I just made a round before lunch so if no one calls us, we still have half and hour or so before we make another.” He looks at me so he can give me a smile and then turns back to his laptop.

After a few minutes of silence as he opens, reads over and closes documents, he speaks again but he’s not looking at me.

“How are things with your mum?” His question takes me off guard. “Did you work it out?”

“She let it be.” I reply.

His green eyes set on mine for a few seconds and I know he’s holding back for asking more questions. I’m glad he knows when to ask and when not to. Trying to avoid his eyes, mine set on my phone that doesn’t stop vibrating on top of the table.

“You can answer.” He lets me know. “I’m just searching for your case anyway.”

Hoping to avoid more questions, I grab my phone and realize the reason behind all the vibrating is The Golden Girls group chat.

Jason: THEY CHOSE THE STUDENT.

Olivia: What are you talking about?

Jason: THEY DID. Professor Gibbins told me.

Marie: Please tell me you did not ask him directly.

Jason: Oh, please, I’m a ninja. There’s no way he noticed.

Olivia: INDIE DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?

Jason: Harry Styles wants your pussy on a tray.

Marie: JASON!!!!!!!

Olivia: Give it to him. Everyone knows you want to.

Marie: Ollie, for the love of God, how is she going to do that? He’s her professor.

Olivia: He’s not! And even if he was, so what? They’re both consenting adults.

Marie: I don’t think that’s right…

I block my phone and leave it on the table. I feel so nervous I want to throw up again. Did Harry choose to be my tutor?

“I like this one.” He states before he reads the beginning to me and turns around to check whether I like it too. “Wow, is everything alright?”

I bet my face is a poem. I’m even dizzy and I don’t know why this is affecting me this much. I can’t believe he’s interested in me like that. I mean what does he see in me? He could literally have any woman not only in the hospital but everywhere else. He’s some sort of god and he’s just too much for me. I think I’m going to faint.

“Yes.” I lie.

“I’ll email you the case.” He says. “I think Danny gave me your email with the list and you also have mine” he looks for it on the list “or I could always text you.” He smirks.

My cheeks are set on fire and he chuckles as he sees me. So he apologized for crossing the line just moments ago and now here he is jumping over the line and doing a headstand on the other side.

“Let’s go.”

With that he stands up and waits for me next to the door. I don’t know whether he’s moving too fast or I’m a turtle but I try my best to follow him around and as usual he’s all smiles and puns and jokes and I find myself rolling my eyes at him more than once. We’ve bumped into Peter a few times and he’s picked on him every time.

At seven o’ clock, when it’s time for me to leave, I stop Harry before he enters another patient’s room and take my attendance signatures paper out of the pocket of my white coat. He’s signed all of my practices smiling smugly but this time his smile falters.

“This is your last practice?”

I smile at his disappointment.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it’d make a difference.” I shrug.

“Well, I could have offered you a coffee or something.”

“We’ve been very busy anyway.”

I dismiss his offer with a sincere smile and I see his eyes dropping to my mouth. I raise my eyebrows setting my eyes on the paper he’s holding on his hand for him to sign my paper. Olivia must be waiting for me. She’s taking me home today. Harry nods and presses the paper against the wall so he can sign it. He looks at me once as if he’s considering something and I swear he’s got something to say when he turns back towards the paper and signs. He’s shaking his head. I grab the paper and pull from it but he doesn’t let go so I chuckle and blush and keep pulling until he lets go of it. I’m sad he did.

“You will be missed Sorry.”

I smile. He didn’t say he will miss me, but I know that’s what he meant. I don’t know why I’m not moving but neither is he so I don’t know for how long we stand there just staring at each other.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Is it about practice?” He raises his eyebrows.

I blush and shake my head. He ruined all the courage I manage to gather to ask him that so now there’s no way I can ask him.

“Then” he interrupts me even though I’m not ready to ask him now “since it’s not about practice, how about you ask me outside of here?”

I feel a crease between my eyebrows. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? My heart is beating fast on my throat as Marie’s words resound on my mind. I don’t think this is right either. What would my family think of me?

“Can I take you out sometime?”

I can’t read his expression but he’s looking at me as if he knew I was going to say yes. I don’t know why in the world he would want to take me out. I’m serious, there’s nothing I have that he can’t have in another woman better than me. Probably older and sexier too.

“Why?”

It looks like I gave him the crease to wear between his eyebrows. His green eyes investigate mine.

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean why do you want to take me out?”

He chuckles. I don’t know whether he’s laughing at me, whether he finds me funny or whether he’s just as nervous as I am.

“Why do you think?” He laughs.

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked you.”

“God, Sorry, you’re making this so hard. It’s okay if you don’t want to, just say no.”

“Okay, then no.”

With that I walk away, almost running away from him so that I don’t have to see his face. I have no idea what just happened. Did he just ask me out? Did I just say no? Oh, God, I still have an essay to do with him! That’s going to be so uncomfortable. Just like Frank Sinatra, I want to roll myself up in a big ball and die. I still have to wait for Olivia because to my surprise she’s not here smoking when I walk out as usual. Usually I have to deal with her complaining about my slow ass but today she’s the one making me wait. My phone vibrates on my pocket and I pick up without checking the screen.

“Where are you?”

I hear Harry’s laugh and my breath catches on my throat.

“Miss me already?”

“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry.” I can hear his stupid smirk.

“Yeah, but what for?”

“Because I was rude to you. I didn’t want to talk to you like that. You just… It made me nervous that you rejected me.”

“I hadn’t rejected you when you snapped at me.” I correct.

“But you were going to.”

“I wasn’t.”

WHAT?

“What?”

Oh, boy.

“So you’ll go out with me?”

His grin is contagious even through the phone because only that could be the reason I’m grinning too. I’d like to see him now.

“I… Don’t you think it’s inappropriate?

“Why?”

“Because you’re my professor.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re my tutor.”

“Do you want me to tell Danny I can’t be your tutor?”

“No!”

He laughs. What would professor Gibbins think? What would professor Gibbins think anyway? They’re friends. I’m sure he’ll end up knowing and what does that say about me? That my tutor and I went out even before he marked my clinical case.

“It’s just an essay, Indigo.” He reasons. “Danny could always grade it for you. I’m sure he wouldn’t mine. Plus, I’m sure your essay’s gonna be interesting to read so he’d read it anyway.”

I smile at that. I like the compliments he gives me about my work, especially because I know he means them. He’s very honest. If he thinks something I say is silly he’d also tell me so that makes this count more.

“Come on. It’s just going to be you and me. Forget about the hospital. That’s doctor Styles and Sorry but it’ll just be Harry and Indigo.”

“Indie.” I correct him.

“Indie.” I swear the vowels sound different when he smiles. “Harry and Indie.”

“But why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why would you want to take me out?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Do I really have to explain it to you?”

“I mean… You could out with anyone-”

“Well I want to go out with you. It’s simple.”

“It’s not. I know you don’t care but I’m still a student.”

“Okay, Indie, stop. You’re on a swirl. Listen to me.” His voice hardens and I feel funny between my legs. “It can’t be that bad. If it goes wrong, I can always tell Danny I don’t have time for your essay and I know he’ll supervise it but that’s not even going to happen. Come on, it can’t be that horrible.”

“I don’t know.”

“Dinner.” He tries.

“I just…”

“Just dinner.”

“Okay.”

What did I just say?

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is Thursday.”

“So?”

“So I have lectures on Friday.”

“But it’s just dinner.” He chuckles and I thank God he can’t see me because I bet my cheeks are bright red.

Ugh, how smug can he be!

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hangs up.

I can’t believe I just agreed on a date with Harry. I try to gather my thoughts as Olivia walks past me with a big smile on her beautiful face. She seems to be on a good mood.

“Harry just called me.” I tell her. “We’re having dinner tomorrow.”

She grins mischievously as she unlocks her car.

“What did you do?”

She shrugs.

“I just talked to him.” She gets inside her car and I open the door and jump on the passenger’s seat.

“WHAT? What did you tell him?”

She laughs like a maniac.

“He stopped me on the hall and asked me if you’re always so hard to get with guys. I said yes.”

“Ollie!”

“I also said it was just a shell and that deep down you love fiercely and with passion.”

“You’re an idiot.”

We both laugh like crazy.

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fandomfindings · 5 years

Text

Oblivious

Pairing: (Damien Haas x Reader)

Word Count: 2K

Warning(s): None

Summary: (Requested by @fanficfanatic123)

I was so sad when there’s weren’t any more Damien haas fics I could read here 😂😂 your inside joke one was amazing! Could I request a Damien one where the reader is oblivious to how in love Damien is with her? Like he does all these cute little things and she notices.

Damien Haas is in love with you. One of the problems was that he denied it every chance he got; another was that you were oblivious to it all.

** "Are you insane? Damien does not like me." You huff, annoyed with your friend Courtney at this point.

To put some light onto the subject, Courtney had been trying convenience you of Damien's undying love for you for the past hour or so. And just like Damien, you were trying to deny the whole thing.

"How thick could you get?" Courtney questioned in her best attempt at a British accent. She was trying to impersonate Ron Weasley from Harry Potter.

"Do not use Harry Potter against me, woman," You said, pointing an accusatory finger at your friend. Courtney raised her arms in mock surrender but continued her argument none the less.

"I'm serious. Just look at everything Damien does for you."

"It's called being friendly," You countered to blonde.

"No, letting you pet his cats is friendly, he would do anything for you, that's called being in love."

"You're so dramatic," You voiced, rolling your eyes in the process.

"And you're so oblivious."

Ever since your conversation with Courtney, you had been a bit on edge around Damien. Her claims caused you to read into every little thing he was doing. Things that you initially thought were friendly gestures became something more, almost romantic.

"And a drink for my highness," Damien said, handing over a cup of your favorite drink.

"You are a godsend," You said gladly, taking the cup from his hands and into your own.

Damien giggled at your exaggeration before saying, "I do my best."

"How did you know I needed this?" You asked after taking a gracious sip of the beverage. It's moments like this where you felt it wasn't just a kind deed; it was hints to his feelings.

"Just a feeling, I guess," Damien said, playing it off with a shrug. In reality, he had been observing you for days. Damien knew you were getting swamped with work and stressing out a bit. Damien figured the least he could do was ease the stress by providing you a break with your favorite beverage.

"Damien is psychic confirmed," You said jokingly. Damien laughed, remembering the videos you two watched together about his supposed psychic abilities.

"Illuminati confirmed," Damien added, causing you to laugh more. Damien loved many things about you, things he wasn't confident enough to share with you. One of those things was when you laughed, especially when he was behind it.

"But seriously, thank you," You said genuinely.

"No prob Bob," Damien commented, pulling a classic Steven Universe quote.

"It's (Y/N)," You replied, deciding not to leave the poor man hanging, finishing the quote from the animated television show.

You and Damien giggled at the exchange and smiled at one another. It was nice to take a quick break from the insane that was your workload at the moment. It was especially lovely when it was with someone so close to you.

More exchanges like the previous one continued. Damien would do little things that on the surface were kind, but deep down, you started to believe they meant something more.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God, I did it! I beat Damien Haas at his own game!" You cheered triumphantly. You were about to throw the controller down in joy, but you quickly realized it might damage it, so you laid it lightly on the coffee table in front of you.

After you placed it down, you started to do a bit of a happy dance. Damien did his infamous yet contagious laugh at your antics, causing you to laugh as well.

"That you did," Damien said, placing his controller down as well.

You looked over to Damien, and despite his smile, you couldn't help but feel bad. You began to feel like a sore winner and a bit obnoxious.

You took your seat back on the couch next to Damien, but this time a bit closer. "I'm sure it was just beginners luck," You commented, patting Damien's thigh lightly.

"No, no, I know when to admit defeat," Damien said, lifting his arms in mock submission. He then took it a step further by bowing to you as well.

"Dames stop, " You laughed, grabbing onto one of his arms to cease his bow.

"What you won."

"You didn't let me win, did you?" You challenged, making sure he didn't let you win to be kind. Your short-lived enthusiasm got cut short when Damien took his sweet time trying to answer.

"Damien," You whined, dragging out the syllables in his name.

"I'm sorry you just looked so happy when you were beating me."

"Yeah, but now I'm sad that I didn't win fair and square, "You replied, crossing your arms in slight annoyance with a pout.

"I'm sorry," Damien said, pulling you into a side hug that you resisted.

Damien chuckled before saying, " Will cuddles help you forgive me?"

You nodded your head, still pouting. Damien shook his head but smiled none the less. He laid down against the sofa, bringing you with him. He then grabbed the blanket that covered the back of the couch and placed it over the two of you.

You snuggled deeper into Damien's embrace as he pulled up a movie for you two to watch. Just as the movie started to play, you mumbled," You owe me a fair rematch."

Damien laughed, the vibrations from his chest, making their way to you back.

"Yes, darling."

"What is up, my clever core family. Happy Sunday. I hope you guys are having a fantastic weekend. I know I am. Y/N and I have been watching films and playing games all weekend and being lazy butts. Speaking of Y/N," Damien introduced his Twitch live stream in its typical upbeat fashion.

"Hi, friends!" You said, waving your hands happily for the viewers at home. This was not your first time on one of Damien's streams, but it has been a while.

"Today, we're going to play a few Jackbox games, and in between answer a few of you all's questions."

Damien gave the typical rules of how his Jackbox sessions went, and the game proceeded. You all first played Quiplash, and it was downright hilarious. Neither you nor Damien won but rather a comic fan.

Now it was time for the questions. You and Damien would take turns reading any questions that caught your eye.

"Psychomantic51 asks, What is your favorite thing about me?" Damien asked you, pointing to the comment on the screen.

"Oh, that's pretty hard."

"Wow, okay," Damien said as if you hurt his feelings.

"No, I'm saying in the sense that there are a lot of things to like about you."

"Okay, well, name something you like. It doesn't have to be your favorite," Damien compromised.

"Well, for starters, you are one of the funniest persons I have ever met. If I don't laugh once in an encounter with you, something has to be wrong with one of us that day," You began, and Damien laughed at how accurate your statement was, which caused you to smile.

"And you're like freakishly smart like I feel dumb around you sometimes," You continued.

" Wait seriously?" Damien questioned, searching your face to be sure you weren't joking.

"I mean, yeah. Don't get me wrong I can be smart, but I swear you're like Einstein's second cousin."

"Thank you?" Damien thanked questioningly. Hopefully, he took that as a compliment as you intended.

"Anyway, you're also very kind. I've never seen you treat someone rudely, and you're also so friendly to even strangers. You have mad respect for literally everyone. Unless they throw away your most prized item from a video game." You said, referencing a video he shot with Shayne a while back. Damien visibly grimaced, mostly for theatrics.

"And," You went to continue with your compliments, but Damien cut you off.

"Y/N, as much as I would love to hear how much you love me, we should probably answer some more questions," Damien mentioned before you could finish your statement.

You quickly grew embarrassed by his comment. You hadn't realized how much you began to talk about his finer qualities. All the qualities you apparently loved about him. Did you love Damien?

Of course not! Just because you like so many things about a person doesn't mean you love them. Right?

** Ever since the day of the live stream, your mind began to race even more. Before, it was just wondering if Damien liked you more than a friend, and now you were wondering the same thing about yourself.

After a few weeks of deliberation, you realized you did have feelings for your friend, and that was the problem. He was your friend. For years now, you have grown closer to one another. Did you truly want to mess that up? The answer was no, but stress began to eat away at you.

You were finding it hard to sleep, and when you did, it was always dreaming about Damien. Whether it be you guys were hanging out, you both kissing passionately or him downright laughing in your face as he rejected your feelings for him. You knew Damien wasn't the type to do such a thing, but you couldn't help but wonder.

What would happen if you told him about your feelings? Heck, you even made a pros and cons list. By the end of it all, you knew what you had to do for the pros outweighed the cons. You had to tell Damien how you felt.

You walked into the Smosh office the next day with your head held high, that was until you saw Damien and began to panic.

Once you walked in, he smiled and waved at you as he usually would before walking over. Your heart began to beat rapidly, and your stomach began to churn with anxiety. You felt as if you were sweating a waterfall as he hugged you like usual. What was wrong with you?

"How are you today, sweetness?" He asked, slinging his arm around your shoulder and walking you over to the group of your friends.

"I'm o-okay," You sturred out. You mentally face-palmed at your shaky voice.

"Hey, you okay?" Damien questioned, now noticing how flushed you looked and, no doubt, the shakiness in your voice.

Your eyes widened in panic. Your fight or flight began to kick in. You could stay and talk to Damien or run away like a coward. And right now, you really wanted to be a coward, but you went against it. It was now or never.

"Actually, can I talk to you for a bit?"

"Yeah, of course. Come on," Damien said, grabbing you by your clammy hand and escorting you out of the room and to somewhere more private.

Once there, he asked," What's wrong?"

You stood there for a moment. Come on, Y/N; it's like ripping a band-aid off.

"I like you."

Damien chuckled, "I like you too."

"No, like, like like you," You said shyly, looking everywhere you could but at Damien.

"Oh," Damien's eyes widened. " I like like you too," he said, smiling at you.

"Really?" You questioned, mostly surprised at how well things were turning out.

To answer your question, Damien kissed your cheek. It wasn't something he hadn't done before, but this one was different. This simple kiss was him letting you know that he did have feelings for you.

Damien pulled his lips from your cheek, smiling the whole time. "Really." He reassured.

You smiled happily and pulled him into an actual kiss this time. It was everything you had dreamed about, literally.

"I told you."

You quickly pulled away from Damien only to see Courtney with a triumphant smile upon her face.

You said nothing and pointed her back the way she came, and she listened, returning to the room with your friends.

You look back to Damien with an embarrassed smile. He pulled you in for another kiss, turning your embarrassed smile into one of pure happiness.

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you @fanficfanatic123 for requesting this. I am so sorry it to me so long to write. I started University this year and it has been insane. Feel free to let me know what you guys think!

Lots of Love <3

#damien haas #smosh damien haas #smosh damien #damien haas x reader #damien haas imagine #damien haas fanfiction #damein haas oneshot #damien haas x gender neutral reader #smosh #smosh squad #smosh games

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hannibal-obsessed · 3 years

Text

30 REASONS WHY THE LAMBS ARE STILL SCREAMING!!!

- Celebrating 30 years of The Silence of the Lambs Movie -

The Silence of the Lambs is a pop culture phenomenon, who’s influence is still being felt today. It is considered one of the best horror/terror/thriller movies of all time!

Released in 1991 on February 14th, The Silence of the Lambs evoked a blood curdling Valentine’s Day scream!

Happy Valentine’s Day

1991-2021

Author – Harris worked the cop beat for a Texas newspaper and had an interest in the macabre, often freelancing for Men’s Magazines (Argosy, True), writing about some of the most gruesome stories.

1. Thomas Harris – As the author of The Silence of the Lambs and creator of Hannibal Lecter, none of this would be possible without Harris. He’s an impeccable researcher, studying the cases of the most notorious serial killers at the time. Harris was seen at parts of Ted Bundy’s Chi Omega trial taking notes.

Actors

2. Jodie Foster – Foster’s portrayal of rookie FBI in training agent Clarice Starling, is a spot on performance. Foster shows Starling’s vulnerability and how her abandonment issues and need to advance in the FBI, bring her under Lecter’s spell.

3. Anthony Hopkins – Hopkins portrayal of Hannibal Lecter left an indelible mark that still haunts us 30 years later. Thomas Harris wrote Lecter...Hopkins brought him to life. The duality of Lecter, which Hopkins plays to perfection, leads you into a false sense of security...that perhaps he’s not that bad...until he lets loose on the police officers during his escape from custody.

4. Scott Glenn – Glenn plays the head of the Behavioural Science Unit at Quantico, Jack Crawford aka the Guru by his agents. Crawford uses his father like status to entice Starling to interview Lecter thus hopefully gaining access, which Lecter had denied other agents.

5. Ted Levine – Levine‘s portrayal of Buffalo Bill has a creep factor that is impossible to put out of your mind, especially when the song Goodbye Horses by Q Lazzarus plays...and he dances...

6. Anthony Heald – Heald’s portrayal of Dr. Frederick Chilton oozes contempt and arrogance, which doesn’t make you feel a bit sorry him when he becomes Lecter’s meal.

7. Brooke Smith – The all American girl who’s kidnapped by Buffalo Bill and held in a pit for the harvesting of her skin. Catherine Martin is a clever one though and hatches a plan to escape using Precious the dog as a hostage.

8. Frankie Faison – The only actor to appear in 4 of the 5 Hannibal Lecter movies. Barney Matthews survives Lecter with his politeness as Lecter abhors rudeness. Lecter believes whenever feasible, one should eat the rude.

Art/Symbols/Theme

9. Basements – The basement is an underlying theme in The Silence of the Lambs: The BSU of the FBI work out of the basement at Quantico; Hannibal Lecter is kept in the basement of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane and Buffalo Bill’s sanctuary is the basement of the former Mrs. Lippman's house.

10. Death Head Hawk Moth/Transformation – The theme throughout The Silence of the Lambs is transformation. The Moth represents Buffalo Bill’s transformation from a pupae/chrysalis/cocoon into a beautiful butterfly.

11. Salvador Dali/Philippe Halsman – In Voluptas Mors/Voluptuous Death (1951), the most scandalous photo of it’s time was the brainchild of Dali and Halsman. Dali arranged seven naked women into a macabre skull. This skull is used as the marking for the Death Head Hawk Moth on the poster for The Silence of the Lambs, which has become synonymous with the movie.

12. Cannibalism – Lecter doesn’t keep trophies in the usual sense, he eats his victims ensuring they will be part of him forever and leaving no evidence behind.

13. Sketches – Hannibal Lecter is a gifted artist and uses his talent to escape the confining basement walls of The Baltimore State Hospital with sketches of the Palazzo Vecchio and the Duomo as seen from the Belvedere in Florence.

14. Music – Hannibal Lecter has an appreciation for the finer things in life like classical music in particular Goldberg’s Variations Aria. Catherine Martin rocks out to Tom Petty’s American Girl and Buffalo Bill dances to Goodbye Horses by Q Lazzarus.

Behavioural Science Unit – It was a new age of criminal behaviour which needed a new type of agent...a profiler.

15. FBI – The Federal Bureau Of Investigation was formed to combat the criminal Mob element by J. Edgar Hoover. It was only upon Hoover’s death that the FBI started exploring other avenues to catch a new type of killer, the serial killer. After Hoover’s death the FBI would start to hire female agents, which would spur Harris to write a story about an up and coming female agent in training.

16. John E. Douglas – Douglas is the real Jack Crawford, an agent who helped in the development of Behavioural Sciences to catch the newly ordained serial killer. Douglas was a consultant for The Silence of the Lambs movie and is an author of many serial killer/profiling books.

17. Robert Ressler – Crawford is also based on Ressler who was in charge of developing the BSU and was instrumental in the creation of profiling serial killers by interviewing them behind bars. Ressler is responsible for writing some of the best profiling books.

Production

18. Jonathan Demme – It’s Demme’s vision as Director of The Silence of the Lambs which is the magic that has cemented The Silence of the Lambs in the minds of all who watch and re-watch and re-watch...

19. Orion Pictures – The little studio that took a big chance. Unfortunately The Silence of the Lambs wouldn’t save Orion from bankruptcy and they’d be bought out by MGM, who would acquire their movie catalogue.

20. Ted Tally – The man who would turn Harris’ novel into a great screenplay, hitting all the major marks. Tally would pass on the Hannibal screenplay; being lured back for the Red Dragon screenplay.

21. Dino De Laurentiis – If not for De Laurentiis passing on the movie rights to Harris’ novel, The Silence of the Lambs, after the bad box office return of Manhunter, and for allowing Demme to use Hannibal Lecter, we wouldn’t even be discussing this 30 years later.

Quotes – The Silence of the Lambs gave us a few extremely recognizable quotes!

22. Chianti and Fava Beans – “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.”

- Hannibal Lecter

23. Lotion – “It rubs the lotion on it’s skin or else it gets the hose again.”

- Buffalo Bill

24. Friendship – “I’m having an old friend for dinner.”

- Hannibal Lecter

Serial Killers – Harris based Lecter and Buffalo Bill on some very real killers...

25. Ed Gein – Buffalo Bill is part Gein for without the crimes of Ed Gein, Buffalo Bill wouldn’t exist. It was Gein’s skinning of corpses and his two murder victims that would inspire Buffalo Bill...

26. Gary Heideck – If Buffalo Bill is part Gein, he’s also part Heideck, who’d kidnap women and then tortured them in a pit in his basement.

27. Ted Bundy – Buffalo is also part Ted Bundy, who would lure his victims with injuries like an arm in a cast; he would seem vulnerable seeking help with books or a canoe and in Buffalo Bill’s case a chair.

28. Ed Kemper – What do Hannibal Lecter and Ed Kemper have in common? A high IQ., a fondness of co-eds and a love of cars.

29. Alfredo Balli Trevino – Harris met Trevino in a Mexican prison, mistaking him for a doctor who worked in the prison; Trevino was actually an inmate working in the prison.

Trevino was convicted of murdering then dismembering his lover. It was this encounter that would set the tone for Lecter.

30. Alonzo Robinson – Lecter has been compared to many serial killers over the decades, many of who’s crimes are too late to be included in The Silence of the Lambs novel (1988). It was most likely the story of Alonzo Robinson/James Coyner/William Coyner that planted the seeds of a cannibal killer in the young mind of Thomas Harris.

Influence – Every Serial Killer book written after The Silence of the Lambs was released in theatres, has a reference to it...even BTK referenced Buffalo Bill in his essay to FBI Profiler, John E. Douglas, among an impressive list of serial killers...Ted Bundy, Son of Sam, Ed Kemper, Steven Pennell and Gary Heideck.

Conclusion: Thomas Harris’ first Lecter novel, Red Dragon, turns 40 in October, so Hannibal Lecter has been part of our literary world for 40 years. Although Manhunter was released in 1986 as the first film featuring Lektor (spelling in the movie), it was Demme’s The Silence of the Lambs that will be remembered as bringing Lecter to the masses. Even though Hopkins would play Lecter two more times in Hannibal (2001) and in the remake of Manhunter, Red Dragon (2002), it’s Hopkins Oscar winning portrayal in The Silence of the Lambs that we will always remember and keep the lambs screaming...

Shannon L. Christie

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icarus-imagines · 5 years

Text

Tom Riddle X Female!Ravenclaw!Reader

The request is much too long to write down but to summarize this came from the requester's dream. Long story short Tom Riddle is a flirtatious person who develops a soft spot for the Reader and saves her when she is in trouble. Now she must also save him in an unpredictable way.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 💙🎁

-Mod Icarus ଘ(੭ºัᴗºั)━☆ﾟ

Word Count: 6,209

Category: Harry Potter

~To Love Unconditionally~

It was eerily quiet, the particular hallway you had decided to travel down. But how could it not when it was way past curfew? You had known it was a bad idea to break the rules, and you were one not to do so, but temptation had gotten a hold of you. You had lain there, in your bed of dark oceanic blue sheets, tumbling, turning, and creating a tiny ruqus trying your very hardest not to do what you shouldn't. But is was as you lay there, (E/c) eyes wide open staring at the top of the bedpost, that you knew the urge to go the library would not relinquish itself unless you did just that.

So succumbing to your want to study to get your mind off of the death that had occurred not too long ago you slipped out of bed as quietly as you could. You slid on some slippers, the (F/c) fuzziness of them warming your feet, offering a comforting difference from the cold blue carpet.

Careful to not rouse anybody form their peaceful sleeping you retrieve your wand from your bedside table. The (W/t) wand warmed up in your hand, it's small life magic happy to be in your presence again. Smiling with satisfaction you tiptoed across the threshold of the Ravenclaw common room, eyes scanning over the sleeping people in their beds, hoping to Merlin that nobody would wake up at this godly hour to discover someone-which was you-were out of bed and planning to sneak off. If it was a normal person you could try to scamper off saying you needed the loo, but if it was perhaps the Head Girl you would more than most definitely get a scolding.

Truly it was more often than not that a person had woken up and decided to read to pass the time or at least get sleepy enough to go back to the confines of their bed, but you had plans a bit tweaked from everybody else's ideas. While yes, there was piled high bookcases behind the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, your house patron, you needed something different. You had all but read most of the books in those bookcases in your free time, so reading them again would do you now good. Perhaps something in the much bigger library downstairs would hold something that would intrigue you.

Scampering off out your common room door you quickly made your way towards the library, your wand with the casual and easy to produce spell 'Lumos', making it easier for you to navigate the dark hallways. And truth be told the hallway you decided to go down was quite eerie. Way past curfew you prayed upon everything that nobody would be wandering about and discover you were out of bed. After gathering so much courage how could you just go back? If you were sent back, laying awake would be all you would do and that was something that you knew would not be any fun at all.

Continuing on down the various hallways and stairs the huge castle of Hogwarts held within itself you arrived at the library in no time. Walking steadily in between the several dozen bookcase ailes your hand, the one without your wand in it, simultaneously trailed over the books spines almost as if you were tickling them, Enticing them to drop into your hand and let you dive into their worlds of fantasy and make believe. One of the many reasons you loved to read was to escape and dwell in a world remembered only when a book was open, letting its ready indulge in the words upon white sheets of paper stacked together.

Only taking a few books you relished in the thought of joy it would bring you to settle back into your bed, you books sitting nicely on your bedside table alongside your precious wand.

Wand held tightly in one hand, the low light guiding your way, and books secured in your elbow pressed to your breasts you began to make your way back to your common room. After your little journey to the library you had finally started to feel a bit sleepy so going back right now would be a good idea.

It was only when you were always back to the checkpoint that were your warm bed sheets that you heard whispering. A strong glow of a few wands producing 'Lumos' illuminated almost half a part of the whole hallway. The only thing that intrigued you the most was they sounded familiar and the fact they were not hushed. If they were students, which they obviously were, they would have been frantic whisper shouts, but the people speaking now seems calm and relaxed. Talking together in a group like they had gone out on nightly outings like it was a regular occurance.

Normally you would have scurried past in hopes they wouldn't notice or follow you but today you were feeling risky. You had just stolen books from the library without anybody catching you. Confidence was soaring in you. These students seeing you wouldn't be a problem, right?

So with your accumulated pride and confidence you moved forwards, moving from their peripheral vision into their direct eyesight. Some of them continued chattering to each other, not caring about a random student coming forward, while some merely glanced at you and returned to their conversations. The only one that truly paid attention to your presence was the one person you had never wanted to meet at this type of conference.

Tom Riddle.

Seventh Year Head Boy who had gotten Outstanding marks on all his exams, even received a Medal of Merit, plus gotten verbal praise from Dumbledore himself.

A swoon worthy wizard with power unimaginable literally dripping from his fingertips.

You froze right then and there, embarrassment driving itself into your veins realising you had snuck down in your (F/c) pajamas and slippers to steal a book from the library and had encountered the one man you had always wanted to meet. But to think the meeting would happen like this was something that made your insides scream.

You must have looked like a loser in front of him, a simple Seventh Year Ravenclaw girl, standing awkwardly in front of him. The Slytherin Heady Boy regarded you slowly, his dark grey eyes holding secrets beyond belief analyzing your figure with slow sweeps of those gleaming orbs. His raven colored hair had that tantalizing swirl upon his forehead that made your knees feel weak. Paired with sharp cheekbones and a flesh cutting jaw you wondered if you would be able to leave without fainting.

The girl he was talking to turned her head towards you. At first you thought of her as a pretty little Slytherin girl in her Sixth Year, like you were currently, but the moment she looked at you her flirty appearance morphed into this type of disgust. She eyes you up and down like Riddle, but unlike like him, she was criticizing everything you were. It was obvious by the way her nose scrunched up like she smelt something horrible that she didn't approve of you. It was easy to tell she must be one of the many girls who were trying to win Riddle's love and maybe even marry him.

But somewhere deep down you knew he would not marry her. He didn't seem like someone to be so easily swayed by flirtatious talk that held no backbone. From what you heard in rumours, is that he is a true Slytherin. A man oozing cunning ambitious and determined intelligence. The carbon copy of what a Slytherin would be. If that fact was true then that meant Riddle, by all means, would know that the Sixth Year girl trying to win his affection was just trying it to rise herself up and a catch a more than handsome husband so she could live the rest of her life in luxury.

Her snappy voice knocked you out of your inner thoughts. "And who are you?" Her face was still scrunched up and not to be rude but, she looked like a toad.

You almost let out a chuckle when Riddle to glance at her in what looked to be some sort of bafflement. Like he himself was offended by her cold remark and attitude towards you. Just as you suspected her face changed, lips curling into a soft smile. Her demeanor changed quicker than you could say a simple spell.

"It's pretty late, shouldn't you be in bed?" Her voice was sickly sweet and it must have been obvious to even those that are less observant that she was faking it. Putting up an easily damaged facade.

You nodded slowly, pressing your books up against your chest and breast feeling a bit like a kicked puppy. Riddle was an elite. The top on the pyramid that consisted of the Hogwarts pyramid. These are most definitely a few of his 'followers'. You cringed at the thought a bit. You understood having a posse could raise your popularity, and Riddle was the most popular, but did they really need to be called followers?

"Then you must be off, you don't want to be caught by any Head Boy or Girl on your way to Ravenclaw Tower now would you?" Somehow her voice was like smarties gone bad, it's taste revolting on your tongue. You also found it odd though, that she was scolding you about a Head student finding you all when Riddle himself was Head Boy of Slytherin.

You stood there for a few seconds wondering what you should do and this must have upset her immensely. She took a threatening step forward, her wand pointing at you in a warning even though it was a mere lighting spell. "Are you even listening to me? I told you to-"

Riddle cut her off with a wave of his hand, the other occupied by a big brown book, and you swore you say her whole body freeze and slightly shake in terror. She was merely a follower, and that meant following the leader no matter what. To cause Riddle distress would mean trouble for her.

"No need to get physical, now do we?" His voice, a complete difference from hers, was warm. It was sweet, but nicely so. Like cotton candy that dissolved the moment it hit your tongue. He looked from the girl towards you. Head tilted just the slightest as he paused and then spoke again. "It is true though, you are up way past curfew, you wouldn't want anybody to catch you sneaking off with some books from the library?"

"Of course," you replied quickly, wanting to appease him. "Yes, your right, sorry."

With a wave of his hand he dismissed the girl saying a small 'Behave' as she huffed and started conversing angrily with his other followers. You glanced at her once more before taking a single step to retreat back to your common room, but to your surprise Riddle called to you.

"Wait," he said curtly, but in a way that told you he wished to simply talk with you. Stopping in your tracks you look back up at him. You felt small staring up at his tall stature so in a bit of shyness you you brush a piece of (H/c) hair behind your ear. "I must apologize for her careless and crude behaviour towards you. Truly I meant no ill misfortune."

Listening to him talk was like being praised by an angel. His words were immaculate, such perfect structure and conviction. It was almost as if he had spent years perfecting his words so that anybody who listened to him would truly listen to him. Such perfection was this boy you had developed a crush on in your First Year at Hogwarts.

"It's quite alright, " you say once your mouth had stopped feeling dry like a desert. "I can understand how she may have felt threatened when I stole away your attention being on her."

"My attention...," he says slowly, a handsome smirk coming upon his face. "Many people vie for that spot, but not many can fill it."

His apparent comfortable stance around you grows you confidence once again. He didn't appear to be repulsed by your presence like the girl had been and probably still was. He seemed to maybe even enjoy your company. This feeling willed you to stay, even if for just a few seconds.

"And what kind of people can fill that spot?" You ask trying to seem simply curious, while on the inside, you hope for an answer that may pinpoint you as someone who could fill it. Fill that very special spot, even if it was more than impossible if you thought about it realistically.

Despite your beliefs his eyes started to gleam with something akin to mischievous intent. That look could have stolen the (F/c) slippers right off your feet if you had been imagined this in a dream and it was not reality.

"People I find interesting," he answered, his smirk driven with amusement and interest.

You hummed as you started to slowly creep away, knowing full well that if you did not return to your bed you may opt to staying and talking to him forever. But you didn't want to upset the jealous girl that would glare at you the whole time from behind Riddle's back.

Clutching your books close you look over your shoulder feeling his steel grey eyes burning in the back of your head like a hawk. (For a second you wanted to punch yourself for using your House as a pun during a time like this). Upon looking back you were more than surprised when he tilted his head in the most provocative way and winked.

Tom Riddle just winked at you.

You.

A silly little Ravenclaw girl.

If it was on instinct or something else entirely you didn't know what but you automatically winked back. The small sliver of astonishment you saw on his expression that quickly turned into merriment caused your insides to morph into jiggly jelly. Shyness was returning to you in no time. So with a hot flushed face and sheepish goodbye smile equipped with a wave you scurried away up a flight of stairs and around the corner.

Just as you turned and rested you back against the cold stone wall, to quickly catch your breath after your escape, you hoped you had not embarrassed yourself by daring to do something so bold. After a few seconds you listened in on the conversation that commenced once you left their eyesight. One between the Slytherin girl and Riddle.

"You find her interesting?" The Slytherin Girl's voice is is one of the most obvious to detect. It's pitch a bit too high, like it was a forced habit.

There was more than needed long pause and you wondered what was happening, but from where you were standing you couldn't see. You wouldn't take the chance for fear you would be caught and embarrassed further. Digging a deeper hole was something you did not want to do.

Somebody's voice comes next, one you do not recognize. "She's right Riddle," he teased a bit. "You seemed to be acting like a smitten First Year." A few others provide their agreement along with him.

Finally, the familiar deep voice of Riddle arises from the smoke of followers around him. "Maybe I do find her interesting," he drawled the slightest like he was in deep thought over it. "Do any of you have a problem with it?"

His last sentence strikes a frigid chord within you. It was one that could draw fear in anybody, but against rationality you felt exhilarated. Everytime he spoke he invoked this feeling deep inside you. This daredevilish desire that could only be described as the start of more than just a simple blossoming of infatuation.

Quickly you heard rapid responses in hurried recessions all explaining how it was a joke and they didn't mean to trouble him. They had made a misstep and needed to get back in line, if not Riddle would make sure they knew their place. To insult him in any way would result in something most woeful.

You heard the huff of the Slytherin Girl as she too finally gave in and said she didn't mean to be so rude. This must have made Riddle content, more confident now that he knew his followers would still do his bidding. But just as you began to recede back to your safe bed you heard Riddle speak up once more.

"Glad to know you you all know your place," he said calmly, voice silky and smooth. "You all are aware what happens when somebody gets in my way, corect? When somebody blocks something I desire?"

The air filled with something cold that nipped at the back of your neck, hair there rising from the temperature. Quiet answers of 'Yes, my lord's and 'Of course, my lord's. It struck you as dangerous information to know something like this, but you shouldn't dawdle on something like that, you were a simple Ravenclaw and you intended to draw away any drama that would come your way.

Riddle's voice though the next time he spoke could have easily compared to obtaining the feeling of being kissed by a Dementor.

"Happy to know you all agree. Now," he said, the rustle of his book being shifted in his arms heard, "I'll be retiring to my room. Disturb me and I won't hesitate to deal with you." You could hear his followers nodding from the movement of clothes.

Only a second passed and if you could see what was happening you imagined Riddle walking away, his footsteps steady on the cobblestone, stopping momentarily to look over his shoulder. You could just visualize the way his steely grey eyes would close half way into something like a glare, a deathly cold smile on his perfect lips.

"Goodnight."

You couldn't stand the tension anymore, and while his obvious display of interest and praise for you was nice, standing here would drain you of any energy you would have for tomorrow. So quickly, once Riddle had disappeared down his hallway, and you disappeared down your own, you held onto the exuberant feeling that Riddle was attracted to you. So settling back down in Ravenclaw Tower, you dreamt of the man who had captured your heart for so many years.

How lucky, yet how unlucky you were to catch someone as dangerous as Tom Riddle's attention and affections.

∆

Somehow after meeting him officially that one time late at night, he had began to approach you more often through the weeks and eventually moths that followed. Anytime Ravenclaw and Slytherin had combined classes he would sit next to you, conversing with you in such a comfortable way that sent butterflies to the pit of your stomach. He even wished to collaborate on projects and homework assignments, which surprised you immensely since he was one to always work alone and get Outstanding marks either way.

While you had believed you would never be able to keep up with his intelligent mind, you proved yourself worthy time and time again against all odds. Keeping up with him through all you work and studies was a breeze. Both your collective minds working together in ways that were unlike your partners in the past. He had even asked you to help him with editing and revising his work. He had learned quickly your Ravenclaw ways were useful and liked watching you do your finest work.

He always showed his high appreciation with small gestures like warm smiles and compliments that were so unlike him around other people. For this you relished in the delectation that resided in you body when given those small body cues. Anything and everything he did made you happy and you never wanted this feeling to leave. Without it you wondered if your lungs could ever breath correctly. He was the oxygen that filled your empty lungs.

Thinking back on when he grazed his fingers with your own when he passed you your edited parchment lit your heart on fire. Everything about him was an intoxicating display of dominance and power hungry behaviour. It was like he fed you personally from his cupped hands, everything he gave you a small blessing you always felt unworthy of. But he continued to do so. Dishing out praise your way whenever you both crossed paths like you were lovers who had been apart for far too long.

Just like what was happening currently.

The Ravenclaw House had been combined with the Slytherin house for today's expedition into the Forbidden Forest. Professor Kettleburn, teacher of the class Care of Magical Creatures, was in the front of the huge group talking excitedly about this new creature that had been recently found in France. A species rumoured to be extinct until now.

While you had wanted to listen intently to what he was saying you couldn't seem to focus. Your mind was wandering off and it was obvious to everybody you were truly not engaged in the lesson today.

It wasn't entirely your fault that your mind had decided to run off instead of planting itself in the lesson. Once again your mind was on Riddle-no...Tom. You had grown close fast and now called each other by your first names. It was a high privilege to call him Tom while everybody was ordered to call him by his surname. To know you meant that much to him was something your relished in.

The problem was you wished to reveal your feelings soon, really soon. You doubted he didn't know about your feelings anyway. That cunning Slytherin was an observant one. Nothing got past his watchful eye. So with that in mind you found it even more embarrassing to know he was probably waiting for you to make the first move.

While he was prominently the one to draw his sword first in most situations, he was known to wait patiently for things he exceedingly yearned for. With that information it was easy to say he may even yearn for you.

He wanted you to make the first move.

And the first move you shall.

It was with that thought you smiled to yourself. Raising your head from looking at your shoes treading on the forest floor your eyes widened when you realized you had made a terrible mistake. The familiar robes of clashing green and blue were gone along with the voice of Professor Kettleburn. Nobody was around and it the day was progressively getting darker. It would continue to do so if you didn't find your way back to your group or out of the Forbidden Forest.

It was when you heard a twig break that you knew you were in trouble. Swiveling your body around quickly you stared in terror at what lay before you. A more than gigantic wolf with a jaw that drooled tremendous amounts of shiny saliva from his his jaw. It's bared teeth look sharp and you feared for you life. But despite wanting to run, your body had frozen in shock on the spot. Tremors ran through your body like an internal earthquake as you stood there. You could them, tears beginning to well up on your waterline and almost obscuring your eyesight.

It was quick, you had taken the tiniest step backward and before you knew it the wolf with matted gray fur launched itself forward. Haunches rippling with heavy muscle and strength you knew you wouldn't be able to defend yourself at all. Your wand was buried in your pocket and the speed you had stood no chance of battling their own.

Right then you accepted your ill-wished upon fate, but you still felt bitter over the knowledge that you would never get to tell Tom what you felt for him. All the feelings that had pent themselves before he knew you to the months after, would never be unleashed out into the open like you had initially intended to. Even if he already figured it all out himself, you had never actually actually outwardly exclaimed your presumed crush on him with your own verbal words. A tear ran down your (S/c) cheek, both that had grown rosey with fear and pent up emotions.

The moment you had finally accepted your fate, about dying and never telling the one person you love that you loved him, was the moment it went off course and changed.

"Confundo!"

A bright flickering spell made of flickering hot wisps shot forth from a wand in the brush and hit the wolf squarely on the head. It tried to shake it's giant craneum to release itself of its impending doom but it could do nothing to stop it. They became delirious in no time, the effects of the spell working as quickly as it could to periodically confused it's unwilling victim. Having absolutely no time to observe the wolf further in any way, a figure jumped out of the lush green bushes like a prince saving a damsel in distress. It was only when you looked closely at the figure, now out in the open, that you came to realisation that the person you had been most embarrassed to talk to had leapt in front of you.

Tom's shamrock hued tie was the slightest bit crooked and his normally ebony hair disleve. His appearance made it appear that he had been through particularly a rough night and had just woken up to start his day. His chest heaved under his dark robes of pitch black and you quickly gathered up that he had been running beforehand. Evidence that he had noticed your missing presence in class and strayed to find you and bring you back to safety. This struck you as a gesture you would never be able to repay. He had just saved your life from being eaten by a ravenous wolf. An act of this degree was something you didn't know if you could ever return in the same way of some kind.

Before you could offer your thanks for his heroic deed, Tom rushed towards you, the wolf behind him digging into the muddy dirt floor in irritation. "Hurry!" He prompted urgently, eyebrows scrunches in concern. "You have to run before the spell wears off!

You responded quickly, "I can't leave you here to fend it off yourself! What kind of person do you think I am?" No anger or hurt was in your voice, like most would think would be combined with those sentences, for it was simply anxious panic you held for him.

He had saved you, but who was going to save him?

"I'll be fine," He persisted, both his hands coming to grab each of your shoulders. He squeezed them in a reassuring manner to help ease you troublesome thoughts of what his fate would be. "Go get help, Professor Kettleburn may know how to stop it." You nodded knowing he was right.

While Tom could fend off most anything on his own, you were much more used to a quill in hand along with parchment vs a wand used to battle an enemy.

"I won't be long."

Tom smiled softly in relief, his expression one that looked like weariness. Almost like he was exhausted, yet happy at knowing you cared so much for his well being too. You cared if he died. You had no idea, but this meant a lot to him. He truly was infatuated with you.

Hands sliding down from your shoulders, over your elbows, and to your hands he held them gingerly in his own. Your hands and his face moved at the same time and a blush set itself upon your cheeks when his lips pressed ever so softly upon your flesh. The spot was warm and a small buzz lingered even after he had parted. Dark grey eyes moving up to stare into your own E/c) orbs, you saw a flicker in them. You couldn't tell what it meant or signified, but you did know something had been set into motion with your relationship.

"Be quick."

"I would never leave you, Tom," you promised.

With a lingering stare you eventually had to break away. Your hands slipped through his own slowly until you both seperated. Running as fast as you could you dare not look back at the sounds occurring behind you. But human nature and curiosity got the better of you and you peeked behind you.

You wish you had not looked, but you had done so anyway.

The wolf wasn't truly a canine creature. For they were truly a Boggart. It had gained backs its bearings and had transformed in to Tom's worst fear. A big snake, like the Basilisk's you read about a year or so earlier. It's scaley skin a unique shade of green that reminded of poison. You feared for his life even worse and as you ran faster towards help you wondered if you would make it in time.

∆

"Are you sure you alright?" Your voice was laden in pure worry.

"For the 100th time (Y/n), all is well," Tom replied, a weary smile on his face.

You sat on the edge of the of the bed, the white sheets clean and soft, similar to that of cotton beneath your weight. You were both in the Hospital Tower, in the Hospital wing talking. You were there to keep him company. (You had heard you were the only one who he himself had requested visit him vs those who just showed up of their own leisure).

He had been here for a few days, almost a week recovering from the Boggarts attack. You would have never guessed that his fear was a basilisk, but after he confided in you about his ancestor being Salazar Slytherin you started to understand. On the outside he was prideful and perfect, but on the inside he was honestly an insecure and damaged individual.

After he saved you life, and you had gotten help and saved his, you had grown closer than ever before. You both had shared your deepest secrets with each other. Your dreams, aspirations, anything that could come to mind was spoken between you too. All your free time was spent here. Sitting. Talking. Learning more about each other.

To be held dear like this was like something from the fairytale books you liked to read so much.

"I know, I just," your (E/c) eyes wander down to your hands that are interlocked at the fingers," need to know everything is fine."

Tom's eyes crinkled a bit at the corners, their steely grey shining in the rooms dim lights. Leaning forward he pressed his lips to your own with a small tilt of his head. His lips were warm and you wondered if you could ever live without the touch of them upon your own. He left to early though, your lips feeling as if they were instantly numb from his mellow touch.

"I will be perfectly stable wherever you reside," he said calmly, his charm activating your insides to shake. He always talked like he was some kind of royalty. You were more than sure that even if we talking to a baby he would still use correct phrasing and immaculate structure.

"How romantic," you giggle as you both lean into each other, foreheads pressed together.

After months of developing this relationship, you had confessed your feelings the exact moment he awoke from blacking out. He was surprised to say in the least when you had seen you, sitting in a chair by his bedside, head rested in his lap as you you slept. Tears had stained your cheeks with their water marks and this had driven him to wake you up with a slightly rub and shake of your shoulder. The second you had woken up with no signs of deliriousness clinging onto you you had engulfed him with a hug. While you tried not to suffocate him or break any of his ribs, you still held on pretty tight.

It took a minute or so of you crying into his shoulder about how heartbroke and sorry you were about getting him hurt that he finally took action. His arms had wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzled into your neck. It was obvious he had never counseled anybody in his life, but it showed he was trying his best. The way he softly rubbed your back, with some accompanying pats, was nice in a way. You had eventually stopped the tears from flowing to lean back.

It was a burt of 'I love you' and 'I thought you had died, because of me' that both left your mouth as you tried to explain everything that had happened after he had fended off the Boggart. With his help you calmed down your frantically beating heart and once you realized your first mistake he had to stop you from running away in embarrassment.

With a flushed face, Tom's restful voice persuaded you to look up at him. Hand brushing a stray piece of (H/c) hair from your face he declared his love for you. He thoroughly explained though he didn't know how to love. He could feel attraction both romantically and sexually but the boundaries that separated simple infatuation and love was something he had yet to comes across. It was bit difficult to understand where he came from due to having an entirely opposite upbringing on your part, but you tried your hardest to see it from his part of view.

To be told his Mother had given his father a love potion to make him fall into a desperate love with her was horrifying. She had done it for so long that they had bore a child from the mix. She had felt guilty, it what Tom assumed when she let the love potion wear off. She thought Tom's father loved her after so long together, but her presumption about his deep feelings had all been wrong. He had left her with their newborn child, alone, without any help.

Driven deeply with sorrow and chronic depression she could do nothing else but give up her child. Leaving him at a muggle orphanage with nothing but his birthed name she had taken her own life in the bottomless sea that was her sorrowful grief.

An awful way you, you thought, to leave behind your child. To never tell them exactly why you had left them at somebody else's doorstep. You could only imagine what Tom had gone through, living in a world with noe magic. Living not understanding how he could make supernatural things happen around him. No guide, no friend, no family to help him.

If you had been in his place you would have been driven mad with your own type of grief and hysterical thoughts. Isolation would do dreadful things to those most susceptible to their sway of persuasion and temptation.

You had listened, a few slow nods on your part, to the whole story. There was a lot to take in but you processed it all and told him, that no matter what, you would help him. Help him know what it felt like to truly be loved by another person. Love in soul, body, mind, and heart in all aspects of life. You wanted to aid him in his growth of understanding the possibilities that life has to offer. You wouldn't let Tom believe he was exactly like his parents. He could be better, do better. He was already better, but you would be there to help him take the steps he could not take by himself.

"You have no idea...," you whispered softly, the hand not holding his own, coming up to his face. The thumb of that hand softly rubbed back and forth over his sharp cheekbone in a romantic gesture. "No idea, how much I love you."

"I don't," he replied quickly, eyes casting down for a few seconds before rising back up to stare directly into your own. "But hopefully I will. Hopefully someday in the future, I can learn what it means to love you. To fall in love. To stay in love."

"I'll wait patiently," your murmured as he leaned close, his lips brushing against yours. His warm breath mingled with your own and you could smell the dark coffee he had drank earlier that morning. "Wait for you to learn to love, unconditionally."

~The End~

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urflowersdied · 5 years

Text

cold as ice(d coffee)

In which Norah really just wants to make some money to finance her student life and Harry is her super serious, but incredibly soft-looking, café-owning boss.

A/N: Initially this was supposed to be a one shot, because I just wanted to write a story in one go and have you guys read and (hopefully) enjoy it, but turns out that’s something I don’t know how to do. So, here is the first, 4.7k long part of this three-part series. I have to thank some friends on Twitter who will get their own message, but I’m also immensely thankful for @dadshirtking, who was incredibly supportive and a really helpful creative mind, @bribe-the-door, for being loving and positive and kind and the sweetest person around, and @isitjamiemoriarty, for being the world’s greatest feedback giver and without whom I probably would’ve gone crazy trying to figure this story out.

Hope you enjoy!

Norah was absolutely fuming. It seemed like just her luck that on the first day of her job the trains seemed to have decided on making her life all that much harder and arrived with a one-hour-delay. Presenting herself disheveled due to running all the way from Manchester Piccadilly to The Brewing Pot probably would not improve the impression she was bound to make on her new colleagues, but that was a risk she was willing to take in order to get there just a few moments quicker.

She knew that it could be quite difficult for a student employee to get on well with their full-time colleagues, which was why she had devised a seemingly foolproof plan to make the first day go swimmingly. Norah had spent all of last night looking up some hilarious jokes she would try to sneak into some conversations and additionally baked some of her grandmother’s famous triple chocolate chip cookies. In hindsight, she realises that she had been hired as a help in a café where an actual baker worked in order to prepare all the sweet treats for the customers, but by then it was too late. She just hoped her colleagues would at least pretend to be interested in her amateur baking.

It wasn’t even as though this was her dream job. Far from it, actually. She loved spending time in cafés, but rather nursing a cup of coffee herself than working behind the counter with a constant fake smile plastered upon her face while listening to the ridiculous orders she had to fulfil. Needless to say, this was not her first job of this kind. She had held down her job at one of the coffee bars that were littered around her university campus for the first year and a half of her degree pursuit. After one of her coworkers had refused to stop their incessant flirting at her old job — and her boss had not even batted an eyelash when she mentioned her discomfort about the situation to them — she had felt forced to quit.

The first few weeks without a job seemed extremely relaxing, but when she had to decline her friend’s invitation to a night out because she wouldn’t have been able to afford the night - because, really, how expensive were the drinks at that club? - she decided to get back on her feet. Norah quite enjoyed working. Enjoyed the routine that came with having more than just her pain-in-the-ass philosophy class or some lecture that she would most likely not pay any attention to anyway to get her out of bed in the mornings. The social aspect that came with working was also something she cherished. She had always been a little more shy and dealing with colleagues was a fairly simple way to force herself to interact with humans without making too much of a fool out of herself.

Turns out, finding a new place of work in a town full of students had not been the easiest task. After asking around some of her friends and a few smaller shops around her university and gained nothing but shrugs and rejections, she decided to broaden her scope. She didn’t really mind taking the train to get to work - instead found it rather calming, actually -, so when she finally got the offer to work as a barista at The Brewing Pot in the heart of Manchester she had jumped at the opportunity.

The Brewing Pot was one of the most charming shops she had ever stepped foot in. The café section of the store was made up of wooden tables, tons of plants and some mismatched couches and armchairs. If you were to wander further into the building, though, you were greeted by tons of shelves filled with secondhand books. There was an extremely quaint, homely feel to the whole place. She didn’t even really mind the train ride she had to take in order to get to and from her new place of work.

The only aspect that made her feel a little on edge was her boss, whom she had met only once before during her job interview, which had not been all that fun. When she first laid her eyes on him, she had quite honestly been a little taken aback. He was absolutely gorgeous, with chocolate curls, piercing green eyes covered by a really expensive-looking pair of glasses - she was fairly certain she had spotted an engraved Gucci sign on them - and his very tall frame had been adorned by the most endearing knitted sweater. He had truly looked like the kind of man Norah could only have conjured up in her wildest dreams. That she would one day actually get to breathe the same air as such a specimen seemed laughable to her. But once he had opened his mouth, the fantasy she had created in a few milliseconds was destroyed just as quickly.

He had not been extremely rude to her, rather he had really only given her the bare minimum amount of time of day needed that could be deemed socially acceptable. Harry Styles seemed like quite the serious man though, not cracking one single smile at any of her attempted funny comments during their meeting. She wasn’t sure if he wanted to establish some ground rules on how he interacts with his employees or if he’d just gotten up on the wrong foot that morning, but she had definitely felt infinitely intimidated in his presence. Of course, looking back now, this first encounter with him did not calm her current frazzled state in any type of way.

Completely out of breath - she really should get started on that New Year’s resolution of hers to make actual use of her gym membership -, she pushed open the door and was immediately greeted by a jingle of the bells which notified everyone inside of a new entrance. Taking a quick glance towards the huge clock that adorned one of the brick walls in the café segment of the building, she thanked her lucky stars that she had decided to sprint. She thought that being a mere five minutes too late was the best case scenario in this really bad situation.

After gathering her hair up into some sort of ponytail to seem at least a little put together, she approached the counter. The wary smile on her lips paired with a nervous fumble of her fingers was probably enough to tip off the guy behind the counter as to who exactly she was. “Norah, right? You’re new, yeah? I’m Adam, supposed to show you around today!”

And, really, she could not have asked for a more charming person than Adam to show her the ropes and make her feel at home in her new job. Her other colleagues had also presented themselves as wonderfully kind people, but over the course of the next few weeks Adam had quickly established himself as one of her closest friends. For whichever curious reason, their shifts often overlapped and being of similar age only propelled their mutual understanding and bond into great heights. Dealing with some of the infuriating customers that visited, she was extremely delighted to be able to unload some of the stress into the ears of Adam, who completely understood her pain.

Therefore it’s pretty understandable how disappointed she is when he calls her one Monday morning to tell her he won’t be able to make it to their shared shift. As usual on Mondays the café was closed for business, but there had been an incredible amount of orders to fulfil for a wedding that was taking place the following day.

Ever since she started working there, her coworkers had given her crash courses on how to improve not only her own cookie recipe, which they had actually immensely enjoyed after she had mustered up enough courage to offer them to her colleagues, but also on how to perfectly follow the café’s original recipes. So when the question of who would come in on their day off to get a head start on the orders arose, she had felt pretty secure in offering her time and energy alongside Adam. The same Adam who had now left her to her own devices, because he had inspected the bottom of one too many bottles the night before.

Taking advantage of her solitude in the kitchen of The Brewing Pot, Norah blasted her ultimate mood-lifting album - does she even have to mention that it’s Nilsson Schmilsson? - through the speakers that were installed to help motivate the staff during their work day. She was already dreading having to pipe about 170 cupcakes once they had cooled from their time in the oven as the entry bells to the store chimed.

Before she was even able to wonder who interrupted her jamming session to Without You (and also, had she just imagined triple-checking the locked entry door after arriving?), a disheveled-looking Harry Styles appeared in front of her eyes. Up until now she had only ever witnessed her boss on fleeting occasions, him often not being present during her shifts or hidden away in his office if he was in the vicinity.

So you cannot possibly hold it against her when she completely freezes up and just blinks her eyes at him a couple of times instead of actually making use of her vocal chords to inquire about why he was stood here, looking as if he had just rolled out of bed but simultaneously giving Adonis a run for his money. Luckily, he decides to address her first. “Good morning. I’ve been trying to find someone to come help you out but it’s too much of a short notice for everyone, so I hope you’ll accept my help.”

And because it really wasn’t her place to dismiss his offer, which could get her back on the train, home and into her warm cozy bed a little quicker, she shot him a timid smile. “A helping hand would be more than welcome to me right now, thanks.” Those words were apparently all he needed in order to kick into gear, as he rolled up the sleeves of yet another adorable knitted sweater. She quickly sprung into actions as well and turned the volume of the speakers down by a vast amount, so that the wonderful melodies by Harry Nilsson only soft drifted through the kitchen.

The space that wasn’t occupied by their bodies trying to move about the kitchen without much interaction was filled by uncomfortable silence. His presence did not calm the movement of her hands, which was already shaky due to her fear regarding finishing up these cupcakes. Additionally to looking so wonderful that she would much rather put the icing on him rather than the baked goods, he was also her boss, which meant that she would have to try her damnedest not to mess up.

“How old are you again, Mister Styles?” She had to break the silence which had quickly settled over them somehow, right? To her, it seemed more awkward to not engage with each other while being confined in the close proximity the kitchen provided.

What she had not taken into account was that Harry Styles did not seem like much of a conversationalist. After a short confused glance at her - he must have momentarily forgotten that she is also taking up space in the kitchen, why else would he be so surprised for her to be speaking up? - he gives her the shortest reply possible. “I’m 27.”

It’s not as if she is extroverted in any kind of way, it’s just that awkward situations are even more difficult to handle for her than actually conversing. Which is why she definitely understands the hint his short answer was supposed to give her but she chooses to ignore it regardless. “So, Adam told me you’ve owned this place for like 5 years… Why did you open it at such a young age?”

“Didn’t open it myself. The owner needed a replacement and chose me.” His shortage of words stunned her a little bit. She could definitely tell he was starting to get frustrated with her incessant talking, but he seemed too polite to confront her about it. It didn’t seem to her as though she was prying into his life. She was just asking a few standard questions, no harm meant in any way.

Nevertheless, she let silence overtake the space once again and let her eyes drift from the cupcake bases she had been trying to cool by aimlessly wiggling another baking tray over it towards her boss. His head bent down (his glasses didn’t seem to budge at all which intrigued her more than it probably should), cradling a filled piping bag in his now bare hands - usually they were ring-clad, and she had been itching to ask about whether any of them held some sort of special meaning to him just like the quartz ring that she sported on her right pointer finger did to her -, she knew she was fucked.

Unsurprisingly, she had always had the tendency to gush over males who portrayed a certain distance, an unattainability. Harry Styles, though, definitely took the cake. He did not seem interested in maintaining the exchange of vowels and consonants between them in the slightest. Rather he made it seem as though these baked goods were his sole purpose in life, as he gave them his full attention.

She had noticed some thoughts cross her mind a few times before already. That he always seemed too serious, almost stoic, his mood always seeming solemn, and how that did not correlate with the beautiful features of his physique at all. His hands looked delicate, his lips pouty and the area around his stomach and hips incredibly soft - which stood in contrast to his otherwise incredibly lean frame wonderfully. Maybe her self-proclaimed hopeless romanticism had something to do with it, but had this intricate feeling as though he wasn’t born such a low-spirited person. Perhaps that was why she decided to open her mouth again. “Do you know the people who are getting married tomorrow? Like, the couple who -”

“Listen, I think you’re doing a great job working here, but I am not really interested in making friends with my employees. So if we could just… finish this order, I’d really appreciate that.”

Remember when she declared him as being too polite to call her out on awkwardly trying to attempt a conversation? She definitely takes that sentiment back. Surprised, her hands falter in their current swirling motion and lift the piping bag away from the cakes he so badly wants to complete in order to not completely mess up. She isn’t entirely fond of the idea of turning this whole encounter into an even bigger disaster than she has already found herself in.

Even after analysing the exchange in lightning speed, she couldn’t figure out where exactly she went wrong. What had warranted his coarse reply? Being completely honest, he had infuriated her. Not wanting to blur a line between friends and employees made sense to her, if that was what he really wanted. But there were right and wrong ways to make her aware of his penchant. Harry Styles had chosen to go about it in a wrong way.

“I’m sorry for prying, Mister Styles. I was just looking to make conversation. If you aren’t interested in being friendly with me and insisting on being a sourpuss, then that is your right. But please be civil when you inform me of that. It’s just common courtesy, isn’t it?”

For a moment she holds her breath. His eyes shot up to her and she was able to detect the tightening of his jaw. Alright, maybe dubbing him a sourpuss hadn’t been the smartest move, but she couldn’t stop herself. The word described him perfectly. She was convinced that this would be her last shift at The Brewing Pot. Already mourning the loss of yet another job in her head, the man who she (for now) called her boss let his Adam’s apple bop one time and then dropped his head. The conversation had passed.

One hour and an abundance of tense silence later, all 170 cupcakes were iced and placed into the fridge, ready to be delivered first thing Tuesday morning. With one mutter, he dismissed her - opting to clean the kitchen on his own rather than dragging out this miserable encounter.

And with her head held high, but her heart nestled a little bit lower in her chest, she made her exit.

Apparently, the people in charge of the railway system and the trains really did not have any aspirations towards getting on her good side. It was March now, and she had just finished up her first solo closing shift in her three months working there. Spring had yet to peak through the dreary blanket that the Winter had placed upon England. She could not wait to take a hot shower. Would have preferred a bath and a nice cup of tea, but alas, that was a feature her student housing did not provide. Then she’d like to settle down on the couch to watch reruns of sitcoms until it would prove impossible to force her eyes open any longer and then retread to bed.

Much to her dismay, those plans were crossed through by her train home, who had taken it upon himself to leave just about two minutes before schedule. So here she stood, having just missed her last opportunity to get home towards the warmth and comfort her flat could provide her with and with not one place to go. After frantically calling just about every person in her phone book that either lived in a close mile radius or owned a car, she finally decided to seek solace in the confines of The Brewing Pot.

Truth be told, she didn’t really feel all too happy with her decision, but where else was she supposed to go? Catching a cab would’ve cost her an arm and a leg and Adam, who resided outside of Manchester but did own a car, was not even picking up his phone. She believed that her last resort was just settling down on one of the couches of the coffee house and trying to stay conscious throughout the night in order to grab a train home first thing in the morning.

And this plan probably would’ve worked out well enough, had her boss not entered his store after hours and found her lounging around way after she was supposed to actually be present. It seemed to her as though Harry Styles’ baseline state consisted of a mixture of stress and sternness. Norah had once again not caught more than a few mere glimpses of him after their unpleasant icing session. Not that she had minded their lack of interaction this time around.

“What… are you doing here?” She hadn’t expected any other question from him, the confusion apparent on his face this time extremely warranted. And this time, instead of holding it up high Norah lets her head sink a little lower, knowing that she wasn’t really supposed to be here after hours. This time, if he were to get angry and throw her out, she would not be able to hold that decision against him.

She felt stupid. How incapable did it make her seem when she would tell him that on her first closing shift she had managed to miss her way of making it back home? The closing shift itself had actually been kind of enjoyable to her, but would it seem rude for her to mention how she probably would’ve arrived at Piccadilly in time had she not been left to her own devices? The sound of his voice brought her back from the questions piling up inside of her mind while she had stayed silent. “Well?”

“I’m sorry, Mister Styles… I, uhh… My last train back home left a little earlier than expected and Adam isn’t picking up his phone, so… I had nowhere else to go. Was gonna just wait it out until the first one in the morning, but if that’s not alright I completely understand. I should’ve asked for permission.”

It seemed like this flow of words didn’t please him in the slightest. The shaking of his head was a clear indicator for that. On top of that, he let out a loud sigh. “You… You don’t have to call me Mister Styles. Harry is… just fine.” This was definitely not the kind of reply she had expected. For the first time since she’s been aware of his existence, his facial expression softened a tiny amount. “Listen, Norah. I understand that working a closing shift on your own is hard work, but you really can’t just… stay here afterwards without letting me know. It’s unprofessional.”

“No, yeah, I’m fully aware of that. I just… really couldn’t figure out another place to stay and I’ve got this really important presentation tomorrow. Thought that if I came here instead of sticking around at the station I would at least be in a safe place while waiting and might even be able to close my eyes for a second. But you definitely should have been informed.”

This reply seemed to calm his mood. Harry huffed and nodded his head in her direction. “Alright, well… You’re right, it’s better to hang around where it’s safe. Just make sure everything’s locked and the lights are off when you decide to leave.” With those words he ducked into his small office to retrieve whatever had made his trip back to his business necessary.

Relaxing a little bit, Norah leaned back into the sofa and observed the now illuminated doorway through which he had just disappeared. After their encounter she really had not expected him to let her off with a warning, but she was glad that he did. While sitting around The Brewing Pot for a whole night wasn’t what she had envisioned to be doing after work, the alternatives of either wandering around the streets of Manchester or lingering by the train station for multiple hours seemed even less appealing.

A few moments later Harry emerged from the office and let the door fall shut behind him as he closed the distance between him and Norah. “I -“, was as far as he got before he stopped himself to inhale a deep breath. She didn’t say a word. Just waited - admittedly a little (scratch that, a lot) anxious - for whatever he was about to blurt out.

“You were right, you know. I was extremely rude before, when we were working on that order for the Peterson wedding. You were just trying to make harmless conversation. There was no reason for me to blow up the way I did, I’m sorry.”

And if his hands fiddling with the files they were holding while waiting for her to speak up was a sign of his nervousness, well, colour Norah impressed. It wasn’t really the apology that threw her, it was the sincerity in his tone. She had accepted that she would not be able to establish some sort of friendly relationship with her boss, especially after there had not been any repercussions following her name-calling of him. She was grateful for that, at least.

“That’s… alright. Thank you for apologising, but I guess I was also out of line, so…”, was all she was able to come up with in reply. Frankly, there wasn’t much else left to say between the both of them. He had apologised for handling a situation the wrong way and she had admitted that her form of dealing with it could’ve also been improved upon.

Harry looked around his café helplessly before continuing his utterance of what she soon understood to be an invitation. “You said you have a, uhh… a presentation tomorrow? Are you… Do you think you’ll get enough rest staying here?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s quite close to the station and if I take the earliest train I might even be able to make it back in time to shower and go over my notes again. Gonna power through class tomorrow and then catch up on the sleep I’ve missed.”

With a shrug of his broad shoulders - and yes, she’s aware that she really has to stop lusting after him even though he’s behaving (and looking) extremely nice right now - he fixes his gaze on Norah once more. “I just stopped by to pick up these files that I forgot. Don’t live far from here, actually. You’re uhh… You’re welcome to stay in my guest room if you want.” Had she heard him correctly? Or had she already fallen asleep and was just dreaming up crazy scenarios? “At least you’ll get a few hours of sleep that way.”

Really, who was she to say no to the promise of being able to close her eyes for at least a few hours before what was sure to be a gruelling class tomorrow. Norah was also extremely curious to take a peek into his residence (and maybe his mind), even though she wouldn’t want to admit that out loud. Harry waited by the door while she collected her belongings and not too soon after, they started their trek towards his house, accompanied by the biting gusts of cold nocturnal wind.

„You can leave your coat here, if you want.“ Harry‘s house was bigger than she had anticipated, but then again he did mention a guest room which could’ve tipped her off on the fact that his abode was bigger than her measly flat.

The seriousness he displayed during all of their encounters was nowhere to be found. His living room - where she now stood with her hands folded in front of her, waiting for him to return from the kitchen, which he had dipped into - was made up of a set of mismatched patterned couches and the walls were clad in artworks from all different styles that weirdly blended together in perfect cohesion. Plants and books adorned nearly every surface and corner in her line of vision - which made a lot of sense to her, because that was strongly reminiscent of the inside of The Brewing Pot.

Truth be told, she didn’t know what she had expected. Maybe lots of monochrome colours, whites and greys paired with a touch of black, and extremely modern furniture. Not wooden floors, which were scratched up and led her to believe in the presence of a pet in her vicinity (maybe the dog bed next to one of the loveseats tipped her off as well), and cozy, seemingly handmade throw pillows.

It was headache-inducing, really. Trying to figure him out. She was stood in the middle of a room that she would’ve definitely seen him inhabiting the first time she had laid eyes upon him. Before he had opened his mouth and heard the cold tone of his otherwise so deep and rich voice. So, had she pegged him right from the beginning? Was the solemnity a front he put on for strangers and employees or was his living space a remnant of a time and character passed, with Harry simply too lazy to redecorate?

Or was she just reading too much into this altogether?

Her way-too-deep considerations were put to a halt by Harry’s return into the room. “There you go.” In his hand was the biggest glass of water she had ever seen. The fact that she found such a small gesture endearing was enough to let alarm bells ring in Norah’s head. These mushy feelings and musings about his interior and its relation to his state of mind had to stop. She really knew next to nothing about the young man stood in front of her and based on the way their previous interaction had turned out, he most definitely wanted it to stay that way.

Gathering her wits, she accepted the glass filled with water from his outreached hand and took a tentative sip. Once again, Norah found herself in an awkward position that made her throat dry up just a little bit. “Thank you”, was all that erupted from her vocal chords.

Raising his hand to touch his glasses - which she knew for a fact had no need to be rearranged, remembering the way they hadn’t really moved an inch when he bowed his head to focus on the icing of the cupcakes - he spoke up again. “Alright, let me show you the spare room so you can get some sleep.”

#HI LOOK AT ME ATTEMPTING ANOTHER SERIES EVEN THOUGH I HAVE THE SHORTEST ATTENTION SPAN PROBABLY EVER #really hope you guys like this though #harry styles #harry #styles #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #harry styles one shots #harry styles angst #one shots #harry imagine #harry imagines #het fic

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claudia1829things · 5 years

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"HOMEFRONT" RETROSPECT: (1.01) "S.N.A.F.U."

"HOMEFRONT" RETROSPECT: (1.01) "S.N.A.F.U." There are only a handful of television shows that I am very emotional about. There are only a handful that I consider to be among the best I have ever seen on the small screen. One of them happened to be the 1991-1993 ABC series, "HOMEFRONT". Not only do I view it as one of the few television series that turned out to be consistently first-rate from beginning to end, it also has one of the best pilot episodes I have ever seen.

"HOMEFRONT" followed the lives and experiences of a handful of citizens in the fictional town in Ohio, right after the end of World War II. In fact, its pilot episode, (1.01) "S.N.A.F.U." picks up not long after the war finally ended with Japan's surrender. Army war veterans Hank Metcalf and Charles "Charlie" Hailey are in New York City, awaiting a train to take them home to River Run, Ohio. Hank is unaware that his longtime girlfriend, Sarah Brewer, has been dating his younger brother Jeff, while he was overseas. And Charlie has an unpleasant surprise for his longtime girlfriend and fiancée, Ginger Szabo - he has married a British woman named Caroline. Other surprises loomed for some of the citizens of River Run. Hank's sister, Linda, had been dating his and Charlie's friend, Mike Sloan, before war. Yet, unbeknownst to her, he has married an Italian woman named Gina, who is also a survivor of the Holocaust. Both Linda and her mother, Anne Metcalf, employees at Sloan Industries during the war, were unceremoniously fired with other women employees to make room for returning male veterans. And the Sloans' chauffeur and housekeeper, Abe and Gloria Davis, receive a surprise in the return of their son Robert from the war. They are even further surprised by his embittered attitude toward the racism he had encountered in the Army and that a job as janitor awaits him at the Sloans' factory. I really do not know what to say about "S.N.A.F.U.". I had never paid much attention to it, when I last saw "HOMEFRONT" on TVLAND, during the summer of 2000. After my recent viewing of the episode, I cannot understand how I could have ever ignored it in the first place. Not only is "S.N.A.F.U." an outstanding episode, I now realize it is one of the best in the series. Is it the best? I have no idea. I would have to become reacquainted with the other forty-one episodes. I will say this for "S.N.A.F.U." - the screenplay written by Lynn Marie Latham and Bernard Lechowick could easily compete with the 1946 movie, "THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES" in regard to a narrative about World War II U.S. servicemen returning home. Not surprising, Latham and Lechowick's transcript won the Writers Guild of America Award for Best Original Long Form in Television. In a way, I can see why this episode strongly reminded me of "THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES". For an episode that mainly focused on the return of River Run's U.S. servicemen, it seemed filled with a good deal of bitterness, despair and a surprising tragedy. Discrimination seemed prevalent in this episode. The Metcalf women - Anne and her daughter Linda - lost their wartime jobs at the Sloan Industries because owner Michael Sloan decided women were no longer needed as employees, due to the war's end. On the other hand, the episode revealed Robert Davis' bitterness over the racism he encountered in the U.S. Army. This bitterness carried over when he discovered that the promised job at Sloan Industries turned out to be a janitor. "S.N.A.F.U." featured one interesting scene regarding both the racism and sexism faced by some of the characters. In one scene, while office manager Sam Schenkkan fires Linda, he hires Robert for the janitor job. The emotional response expressed by both Robert and Linda proved to be very interesting. Bigotry against foreigners and anti-Semitism reared its ugly head in a story line that featured the Sloans' discovery that their only son, Michael Sloan Jr., had married an Italian-Jewish woman and Holocaust survivor named Gina. Most of the episode featured the couple trying to find a way to annul their son's marriage before his return. Romance certainly proved to be a problem in "S.N.A.F.U.". Both Linda and her best friend, Ginger Szabo, expected to resume their romances with respective boyfriends upon their return from the war. Linda, who was in love with Mike Jr., learned about his marriage to Gina, upon the latter's arrival to Ohio. And Ginger, who had been engaged to her longtime boyfriend Charlie Hailey, discovered he had married a young British woman named Caroline, while stationed overseas. And Caroline, as this episode later revealed, will prove to be a handful throughout the series' run. Thwarted romance also struck another member of the Metcalf family. While Anne Metcalf's oldest offspring, Hank, was fighting in Europe during the war; his younger brother Jeff got caught up in an unexpected romance with Hank's girlfriend and fiancée, Sarah Brewer. Both Jeff and Sarah had decided she would break her engagement with Hank, so that both could declare their love for one another. However, Jeff found himself at the losing end of the lollipop when Sarah decided to remain with Hank. I have seen my share of movies about war veterans returning home. But I have never come across so much aborted romances and betrayal in one production in my life. And yet . . . Latham and Lechowick, along with the actors and actresses who portrayed these characters, made all of this romantic entanglements and betrayals seem emotionally true, instead of the usual second-rate melodrama. If I must be honest, I believe "S.N.A.F.U." is a prime example of what made "HOMEFRONT" one of the best television shows I have ever seen. Like the other 41 episodes that followed, "S.N.A.F.U." explored the post-World War II world with a skillful mixture of drama, melodrama, romance, history, comedy and some action. To be honest, no action was featured in "S.N.A.F.U.". But it did manifest in a few episodes during the series' two-year run. I also have to comment on Latham and Lechowick's exploration of racism, sexism, class and other issues in such a seamless, yet believable manner. I can only think of one or two other television shows that managed to achieve this . . . even to this day. And the more I realize this, I cannot help but wonder if most of today's television producers are incapable of dealing with more than one or two particular issues. If this is true, then "HOMEFRONT" managed to achieve something rare that may never happen again. The excellent writing featured in "S.N.A.F.U." could have come to nothing without the first-rate cast for this show. I tried to think of a performance that seemed out of place or just plain ineffective. But I could not. Everyone gave it their all, including the likes of Kyle Chandler, Tammy Lauren, Dick Anthony Williams, David Newsome, Ken Jenkins, Harry O'Reilly and Hattie Winston. But there were a handful of performances that especially impressed me. I once read that when A.B.C. eventually cancelled "HOMEFRONT" after two seasons, Mimi Kennedy had broke into tears in the privacy of her dressing room. If this is true, I can understand why. I think that the role of Ruth Sloan, the haughty and blunt-speaking wife of industrialist Michael Sloan Sr. may have been the best in her career. I have always been amazed at how she conveyed both the unpleasant and sympathetic aspects of Ruth. I also enjoyed Sterling Macer's performance as the embittered Robert Davis - especially in this episode. There is one scene in which the returning veteran is being welcomed home by his happy mother, grandmother and their friends, while he sits at the kitchen table trying . . . and failing to share their happiness. With very few words and his eyes, Macer skillfully conveyed Robert's unhappy memories of the Army and his eventual inability to share his family's happiness over his return. Another performance that caught my attention came from Jessica Steen, who portrayed Linda Metcalf - middle child and only daughter of Anne Metcalf. Looking back on it, I believe Steen had a difficult job in this episode. Her emotions seemed to be all over the place, due to what she had experienced in "S.N.A.F.U." - brother Hank's return, anticipating Mike Sloan Jr.'s return, discovering Mike's marriage to an Italian war refugee, dealing with best friend Ginger Szabo's anger over Charlie Bailey and losing her job. And yet . . . she kept it all together with some first-rate acting skills. I was impressed by one last performance and it came from Sammi Davis (1987's "HOPE AND GLORY") as Charlie Bailey's war bride, Caroline Bailey. Caroline has never been a popular character with the show's fans. Many found her selfish and manipulative. I had also felt the same. But . . . I also recalled that Caroline was such an interesting character, thanks to Davis' excellent performance. And at times, I also found her likable. I certainly found her very likable in "S.N.A.F.U.". The scheming manipulator revealed her claws in her effort to regain the down payment Charlie had given to a landlord, who welshed on them and I cheered. I also understood her anger and confusion from Ginger's hostile attitude toward her, especially since she obviously had no idea why Ginger was being rude. What else can I say about "S.N.A.F.U."? That it was a superb premiere for a first-rate series like "HOMEFRONT"? I have noticed that most television shows with excellent pilot episodes tend to go downhill by the end of the first season or the beginning of the second. Fortunately, this never happened with "HOMEFRONT". Like "S.N.A.F.U.", it remained an excellent piece of television entertainment throughout its two-year run. And it is a damn pity that the entire series has not been released on DVD.

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