#me: he's going to bleed on harry's floor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

georgeweasleyslostearhq · 8 months

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ENTRY- HER

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem! reader Summary: George reads the letters he wrote about you to himself throughout Hogwarts Warnings: mention of have a b0ner, boobs, tears, hinting to masturbation, the use of Y/n is used a few times, I'm sorry

George bent down on the floor of his bedroom, he looked beneath to bed and pulled out a box that had been left untouched since he and Fred opened up the shop before the war

he sat down and leaned against the side of his bed, opening the box and pulling out the book

he sighed before opening it, turning to the front page, the first day he met you

1 september 1989

Dear diary

it's the first of september, meaning it's the day Me and Fred go to Hogwarts.

Me and Fred couldn't find an empty compartment to sit at, and there was no way we were going to sit with Percy, or Charlie- as his was already full

but we Found one with a boy in our year, Lee. he's cool, he let us sit with us and gave us some candy- which made mine and Fred's nose bleed. I didn't think anybody other than me and Fred would care about jokes and pranks, but i guess I was wrong, cause Lee does too!

the train started moving and we waved to our parents. i think it was about five minutes later when i saw a girl walk past, still holding her bags and stuff, she looked lost

I opened the door and let her inside

she smiled and sat with us, she wasn't that interested in pranks, but she laughed at the stories we told her.

Her name is Y/n, and I have a feeling she's going to stick around for a while.

George smiled and turned to the next page, a year and a bit later.

December 12, 1990

Christmas is coming up soon and our friends are doing a muggle thing Lee told us about- secret santa

not all our friends wanted to do it, but the main ones like Y/n, Angelina, Alicia, then it's me, Fred and Lee, so there's six of us, even

I got Y/n, I still don't know what to get her, there was no money limit or anything like that, but I just don't want to get something too cheap- but that's probably all I can afford

she's a good friend and after the first day of first year, she's stayed by our sides, no one else let her in to sit with on the train but we did, so she stayed

I'm glad she did, she's funny. and as much as she says she hates doing it- she helps me and Fred with pranks a lot, mostly because she's smarter than us

I wonder if she got me for secret santa, the odds of that would be really low, but it's not impossible, i would accept anything she would give me with a smile

George had gotten you some candy from Honeydukes- and you, infact did not get him, instead you had Fred, to which you gave him a bunch of products from Zonko's

George flipped to the next page as he heard noise coming from outside, dinner was probably coming soon and George would have to hurry before he was caught reading these

November 28, 1991

My third year at Hogwarts started a few months ago, the Famous Harry Potter started his first year

my younger brother Ron is his Friend, along with a strange girl, Hermione?

her and Y/n gets along pretty well, i think they go to the library together

speaking of Y/n, we've gotten closer, she would have to be my best friend- other than Fred. Lee is up there but he's been spending quite a bit of time with Alicia, I think there's something going on there, but i don't really know

Y/n decided to try out for the Quidditch team, due to mine and Fred's encouragement, she's really good, she should've been on the team last year, she's a chaser, and she's brilliant!

she's got the latest broom and it goes wicked fast, sometimes in training, we'll just race each other, she always wins though, mostly because I let her but who cares, it's worth it when i see the big smile on her face when she rubs it in

Fred started to tease me about it, saying i'm being soft.

I'm just being nice

October 13, 1992

fourth year started last month, school is getting a bit harder.

Fred Invited Y/n over in the holidays, she stayed at our house for about a week, I was a bit nervous that she would be overwhelmed by our family but she fit in great, Mum loved her and said she should come over for breaks from now on.

so she'll be coming over for christmas this december.

she stayed in Ginny's room, although she snuck into our room to mess around with jokes before she'd actually go to bed, I think mum knew that we did that because she glared at us when we would come down for breakfast the next mornings, she wouldn't say anything, just put her hands on her hips when we yawned

she's really cool, she's really pretty too, i don't think i've ever noticed it before, but she is, and Fred doesn't mind telling her that.

I think he fancies her because they always giggle to themselves

I don't know why but I would always get this pit in my stomach every time I saw them alone together.

He talks about her to me before going to sleep in our dorms, it's starting to piss me off, it was getting annoying because I just want to go to sleep and he'd start talking about something funny she said to him that day and he'd just laugh

i cover my eyes with my pillow every time to try and block him out, though it never really works

George laughed at that entry, looking back on it now, he should've known what the feeling meant

September 5, 1993

we got back from Holidays a few days ago, Y/n couldn't come over because she went over to Italy with her family

she had gotten boobs and the tight low cut shirt she wore to the train station really left little to the imagination, I know I sound weird and like a pervert, I shouldn't think this way about my best friend

but I can barely make eye contact with her anymore without my eyes lowering to her chest.

she's stunning and everything about her makes my heart flutter now.

she also had a slight tan and her hair was longer, she's always playing with it and I can't help the way my mind begins to wonder when i stare at her

she's making my body feel different, the way she bites her lip when concentrating, the way her eyes flutter when she looks up at me to talk

she's using lip gloss too, one that makes her lips look really kissable

I hate to admit it but i sat next to her in class yesterday and my dick decided it was a good time to get a boner, as painful as it was, all i could do was push it down.

she had noticed my uncomfortable state and in her sweet, innocent voice she asked if i was alright

"you ok there, Georgie?" she giggled

I could only nod my head.

and as horrible as it was, later that night, when laying in my bed, I couldn't help but ease the pain to the thought of her.

September 20, 1993

I fancy her, I've completely and utterly fallen in love with her,

it sounds like its just because her body has changed but it's so much more than that

she is kind and funny and sarcastic. and beautiful, like HOT.

too bad she has a boyfriend now, he doesn't deserve her and he wouldn't treat her half as good as I would if I were hers

Fred found out, turns out he never fancied her, but he just cares for her, as friends.

Fred thinks I should tell her, but I can't and I never will

Update- she broke up with him!

George laughed at the update at the end, which was 2 months later and flipped to the next page

December 6, 1994

McGonagall told us about the Yule ball today, a dance

my eyes were fixated on Y/n as she sat down laughing with Angelina across the room as I stood with Fred

Fred told me he liked Angelina a few weeks ago and I'm sure he'll ask her to the ball

Ron got called on to demonstrate the dance and she whistled at him, making him glare at her, to which she laughed

when the class was dismissed, Y/n came up to us and started joking around

I couldn't help but notice the way she has the top buttons of her shirt undone, and her tie a bit loose

it was getting rather chilly and she wasn't even wearing a jumper

I asked her if she was cold and she shook her head with a smile

"I like the cold, George, you should know that" she giggled, nudging me

she was rather short compared to me, the top of her just barely met my shoulder so she always looks up when talking to me

I've also noticed she likes to roll her skirt up, so merlin forbid she bends down to pick something up.

she's also gotten a bit more touchy, not just with me but with the rest of our friend group

her hugs would only happen coming back from breaks and holidays but now she'll hug you almost everyday in the mornings

her hugs have always been nice, but the way I can practically feel her boobs pressing up against me makes it all the better.

December 18, 1994

most people I know already have dates to the ball, Fred had asked Angelina to the ball within the first few days of hearing about it

Y/n has been asked a few times but she's politely declined every one

Fred keeps pressuring me to ask her already and I strictly telling him no, she'd reject me like every other guy whos asked her, and then it would make it weird.

We're also doing another secret santa this year, I got Alicia

Alicia is...nice? she just has a really big flirting problem, and that's not with everyone, just me

she asked me to the Ball a few days ago, and as much as I didn't want to go alone, I still said no

She's not really my type, and as much as i try to make her stop flirting with me, she just keeps doing it, I speak for all of our friend group when I say it's annoying, and I know that because they've all said it

it's nothing against her, but it's just weird

and Y/n doesn't mind talking about it, making jokes and stuff

the only person i have ever felt something for has been Y/n, and I don't want it to be anybody else

George remembers that week like it was all yesterday.

George was sat on the Gryffindor couch, your head in his lap as you told him about your day

"but anyway, why haven't you asked anybody to the ball!?" you sat up, sitting on your knees next to him

"I- I don't know, why haven't you said yes to anybody?" George questioned

"I don't like any of them, barely friends with most of them" you shrugged

"w- well do you? like anybody?" George stuttered

George noticed the small blush rising to your cheeks

"uh- not really" you smiled sheepishly "you?"

George's heartbeat quickened as he grew nervous

does he tell her?

"not really" he responded, copying your words

"you should go with Alicia" you nudged him shoulder, making him roll his eyes

"merlin" he cursed under his breath as you giggled

"only kidding of course..unless you actually want to?" you frowned

"if i wanted to go with her I would've said yes"

you smiled

"it's getting pretty late, i'm going to head to bed" you yawned

George nodded his head

"alright, goodnight"

"night, Georgie" you kissed his cheek before getting up and going to the dormitories

George stared off at the fire as the kiss lingered on his cheek, making his skin feel funny, a good funny

a few days later, Fred pushed George into asking you

"just go talk to her, this is probably your only chance!" Fred whispered before shoving George into you

you stumbled forward and almost bumped into Angie, who had to pause her sentence

you looked back and saw George

"sorry" he apologised

you grinned and gave him a hug "it's fine!"

Angelina saw Fred look at her from behind and walked over to him, leaving you with George

you stared up at George to see what he wanted but he only looked back at you nervously

"is there something you wanted, George?" you chuckled

"I want a date to the ball" he sighs, finally saying it, knowing that Fred would kick his ass if he didn't

"I'm sure Alicia will take you" you smirked

George licked his lips and thought of what to say

"no- no ok um...do you want to go with me? no! I would love if you would accompany me- wait ok. I really want you to go with me to the ball...I- I uh-"

December 20, 1994

I asked her to the ball, after what feels like forever being in love with her, I asked her

Fred pushed me into doing it

so I did, I sounded like a complete fool and I wish I could've said it better, word it so I didn't sound so stupid

maybe if I did that, she would've said yes

better yet- I had also admitted that I loved her, that I have for a long time. I had gotten so nervous that I outed myself

she just stood there in surprise before I ran off in complete and utter embarrassment

December 25, 1994

I went with her, it turns out that she was going to say yes but I ran away before she could've said anything

she told me she loved me too, and she made me the happiest man in all of Hogwarts

it was the Ball a few hours ago, you should've seen her, she was stunning- a type of stunning that when you see her, you can't say anything out of shock on how beautiful she is (which I did)

I can't describe the feeling I get when I'm with her- or see her, but it's overwhelming

i feel faint now every time I see her

she told me she would go with me the day after I had asked her in that stupid way. that was when she told me she loved me

she actually loves me.

I don't know how I can manage to make her love me but I'm grateful- and cautious

what if I mess up?

but that doesn't matter, we're not together

Update: jan 5- I asked her out, she said Yes!

February 19, 1996

Valentines day was 5 days ago, Y/n was obviously my Valentine and we had a great day, I took her to that tea shop in Hogsmeade she's been talking about for a while, if was very...pink and not the type of romantic that I like.

but she enjoyed it so I loved it.

we've been dating for a little over a year and it's great, I am absolutely in love with her and I think she is too

she's mad at me right now though

Today, at Quidditch, I beat up Draco Malfoy for bad mouthing, making Umbridge ban Me, Harry and Fred from the team, which is total bullshit!

anyway, I didn't get badly injured, Malfoy can't punch for the life of him

I only got a cut on my lip but Y/n yelled at me when walking back to the castle

I told her I don't really care I got kicked off but she still told me off, she's cute when she's mad

and I can't be mad at her for worrying about me, especially when she said I looked hot when beating Malfoy up

she let that slip from her mouth and hit my arm when I laughed at her

Merlin I love her, and I never want that to change, so just so you know. you are an idiot if you EVER LEAVE HER.

Fred and I are finalising our plan on leaving Hogwarts to start the shop up

Y/n knows about it, I've reassured her that we'll see each other, but I'm still worried she'll break up with me so I can focus on the shop

but right now I have to make it up to her for getting in a fight so.

April 21, 1996

she told me she wants to break up, she said it wasn't because of us, but because she wants to focus on our futures

I refused, it's the day before me and Fred leave.

I don't want to leave her, it feels like I only just got her and screw anyone who will try to take her away.

I told her I didn't want that and then it turned into a fight

she said she only wants what's best for us, but she is the best for me, and I will try to be the best for her

she left my dorm and I don't know where she went, but I want to see her, to tell her it will work.

I knew this was going to happen, but i didn't want it to.

Update- I found her and I begged her to stay with me, I told her that she should come live with me and Fred when she graduates and she didn't know what to say, she said she'll think about it

June 26, 1996

she moved in with us, she decided to stay with me and live with me, all her things are here now and she's in the bathroom right now, going through it and putting things in there, I couldn't be more happy.

I have the girl of my dreams to wake up beside me and go to sleep in my arms, forever

"George! dinner!" He heard Fred yell out before the door opened

"George..." he heard Fred sigh sadly

George felt the tears start to prickle in his eyes as he thought of you and how much he loved you

"I told her not to go...why didn't she listen?" George asked as his tears met the page from a few years prior, before the war

the same war that took you away from him

Fred walked into the room and sat next to his twin

"come on, I told you not to find this" Fred said, taking the book away.

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it's been a while! i'm sorryyyyy

#george weasley x fem #george weasley #oliver phelps #x fem!reader #imagines #oneshot #harry potter universe #george weasley imagine #fred weasley #yule ball #harry potter imagines

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freedomfireflies · 9 months

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Found

Summary: An extra for Mine*

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has to put you in danger in order to keep you safe.

Word Count: 2.8k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Asher?”

Harry’s eyes find the floor, narrowing with a malicious vengeance.

It’s a look you know well, but never in relation to the aforementioned man. His partner, his second-in-command.

His friend.

You stand and make your way to him, wary of his demeanor as you gently outstretch your finger to his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He almost looks like he wants to flinch when you touch him, and your heart aches for whatever he’s fighting inside.

But then, he looks to you. He looks, and he wraps his arms around you, and he nearly yanks you into his chest.

Everything is him. Every scent, every sound, every feel. His muscles are rigid, and his breathing is shallow, and he’s cursing through gritted teeth.

He doesn’t let you go. Not for quite some time, and despite your attempts to rub his back in soothing circles, nothing calms him.

Finally, he pulls back to take hold of your face. He nuzzles his lips and nose into your forehead, and whispers, “I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I ever let them take you—”

“Harry,” you exhale, slipping yourself free of his hold so you can look him in the eye. “Don’t do that, we talked about this—”

“I don’t care,” he nearly growls. “I don’t care, I love you, and I never should have let them take you. You have no idea what they could have done—”

“Yes, I do. I was there.”

The reminder makes his expression drop. Skin paling almost as if the thought repulses him.

He moves to hold you again, and you let him, but you don’t wipe the stern look from your face. “Harry, what’s wrong? What’s going on? What’s wrong with Asher?”

He’s quiet for a long lull. Perhaps in an effort to prepare you or perhaps he’s simply trying to wrap his head around it himself.

“His comms are down,” Harry begins slowly. “And they found his tracker discarded a few miles outside of the warehouse.”

You feel your heart leap into your throat. “What, um…what does that mean? Is he okay?”

That pensive look returns as he squeezes the back of your neck gently. “It means I have to do something I don’t want to.”

“Like…what?”

His eyes return to yours. A vibrant green that bleeds remorse as he dips down to run his lips along your temple lovingly. “I’m so sorry I ever put you in danger.”

Your heart sinks. “Harry—”

“I’m sorry that loving me causes you more pain than joy,” he whispers, and you can hear each ounce of guilt. “I’m sorry that my love comes with so many conditions—”

“Harry,” you try again, leaning back to take hold of his face and squeeze. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on with Asher, what do you have to do?”

He stares at you for a long while, a subtle red rim swimming beside his lashes. “I need to make a call,” he says shortly.

And with that, he pulls himself from your arms and disappears into the other room, the phone squeezed tightly in his hand.

You hear his heated conversation through the walls of the small apartment. Can’t decipher what he’s saying but you know he’s upset. And when he returns half an hour later, he’s wrought with frustration and regret.

“Har?” you begin gently, cautiously watching from your spot in the tiny kitchen. “Are you…is everything okay?”

You know he won’t offer you an honest answer. He doesn’t particularly like sharing the details of his job with you. He claims it’s better if you don’t know. Safer. And maybe he’s right.

Or maybe he just wants to protect you any way he knows how.

He looks up and finds you. Frowns in the kind of way that has your soul sinking down to the cold, hardwood floor below as he strides over to you.

He takes your hands. Pulls you into his chest and traps you against his heart. Buries his lips into the crown of your head and whispers, “I love you,” for what feels like the hundredth time today.

You smile sadly. “I love you, too. But you’re really starting to scare me, Har. I just…I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

He leans back and captures your cheeks in his palms. Presses his love into your skin as he sucks in a sharp breath and murmurs, “Do you trust me?”

Your answer is instantaneous. “Yes.”

He seems relieved. He seems gutted. “And do you trust that I would never knowingly put you in danger? That I would do anything to ensure your safety?”

You swallow thickly. “Of course.”

He exhales shakily before dipping down to press his forehead to yours. “Do you trust that I love you? More than anything in the fucking world?”

There’s an odd feeling blooming in your chest yet you feel strangely calm. “Yes,” you tell him, nuzzling into his touch. “Always.”

He keeps his eyes closed. Doesn’t let you go as struggles through his next sentence. “Then I need you to do something for me, mama.”

“Anything.”

His features twist, as if it wounds him to hear you say it. “I need you to go sit down on that couch.”

Your lashes flutter as you slip your fingers around his wrists.

“I need you to sit down, and I need you to wait,” he continues, in a tone so distraught, it makes your throat feel dry. “And I need you to trust that whatever happens next…is because I love you.”

Your breath hitches.

“I need you to trust that this is the only way.” His grip becomes tighter. “I need you…to trust me.”

Despite the countless warnings currently going off in your head, you nod quickly. “I do. I trust you, Har. I promise.”

The muscles in his jaw constrict, teeth scraping together as he stumbles over a wounded inhale. Then, he surges forward and presses his lips to yours. Over and over and over he kisses you. Mumbling, “I love you, sweet girl. More than anything in the whole fucking world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His anguish is evident. Body tense beneath your touch and chest heaving with grief. He’s moments away from allowing the tears to fall from his eyes, and it hurts you to see him in so much suffering.

He kisses you until he has to rip himself away. Tearing himself out of your arms before turning on his heel to disappear into the next room, without so much as a glance back.

And you know it kills him to do it.

You look toward the living room, eyeing the couch warily while taking a deep breath. You do trust him. More than anything.

So, you sit. Take a seat on the center cushion and pull your knees to your chest in wait.

Minutes go by. Then an hour. Harry never returns. The entire apartment is silent. The sun is beginning to set behind the mountains he’s hidden you in, leaving you to wonder in the darkness.

And then…a sound. The first sound in forever. The murmuring of hushed voices and the shimmying of a lock.

The front door opens. Three figures creep into the room, dressed in all black. It’s an instant wave of déjà vu, reminding you of only a few days ago when you were taken the first time.

You want to hide. Want to scream in protest. Want to call out to the man you love and have him protect you.

But he knows they’re here.

And he wants them to take you.

Maybe you don’t know why. Maybe you should be wildly confused and insanely terrified.

But you’re not. You trust him. And as the three shadows find you on the couch, you exhale a deep breath, and allow yourself to be approached.

You play up your terror. Figuring it’s better to give them a little fight so they don’t suspect your compliance.

You gasp and you whimper, and you attempt to squirm away as they crowd you. But only one man kneels to the floor in front of your feet, pressing a large, glove-covered palm to your mouth.

You suck in a shaky pant as his eyes find yours through the mask he wears to hide his face.

And those eyes.

You’d know those eyes anywhere. As soft and reassuring as the touch against your lips. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t call you by that familiar nickname or attempt to comfort you.

But you know him.

You aren’t sure why he’s here. Aren’t sure why he’s with them, but Harry must know. And if he’s allowing him to take you…it must be for a reason.

Things work quicker from there. They bind your hands before one of them throws you over their shoulder. They take you from your place of safety and toss you into a van. They don’t speak to you, they don’t look at you, they don’t even sit near you.

Everything is cold and dark. Far too quiet and somewhat unnerving. You drive for what feels like hours before the car finally stops and you’re removed from your prison.

You’re brought into a different warehouse this time. Smaller. Fuller. There are guards crawling in every corner of the room. Guns, grenades, and various weapons litter the walls and tables. It smells like cigars and bad decisions.

And just before you can allow yourself to doubt Harry’s intentions, you’re brought into a large office.

And sat in front of the one man Harry fears the most.

Callahan Matthews.

You’ve seen his face enough times to recognize it now. The way it leers at you. The way it smiles behind the cigar placed between his strangely white teeth. The way he gestures for you get comfortable as the office door shuts firmly.

“Well, well, well,” he begins in a sadistic croon, leaning back in his seat to study you. “How nice to finally meet you.”

You feel your blood run cold as you stare back, offering nothing more than an unamused frown.

Matthews glances toward the guard that brought you in. “Was she any trouble?”

“Not at all,” the man replies, the familiar voice sending chills down your spine as he slips off his mask to reveal his face.

Asher.

“She never is,” he adds, the corner of his mouth curling up in a cruel display of agreement. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your fingers grip the armrests beside you, chest heaving as you work to remind yourself of why you’re here.

Your confusion and betrayal makes both men grin. “And Styles?” Matthews asks. “Where is he?”

“He was at the apartment,” Asher tells him, and you feel your head begin to pound. “We left him be, just like you asked.”

“Good.” Matthews crosses his arms over his chest. “You think he’ll come for her?”

“I know he will. He’ll give you anything you want to keep her pretty little head on her pretty little neck.”

The larger man laughs, pulling the cigar from his mouth. “And isn’t that just a shame? A man with so much power brought to his knees by something so pathetic.”

“Incredibly so,” Asher agrees, allowing his focus to drift back down to you. “Don’t you think?”

You toss him a bitter glare. “Bite me.”

Asher hums. “Haven’t I already?” he murmurs, leaning down and forcing you to rear back. His smug condescension more than evident. “Unless you want to beg me to do it again?”

Matthews smirks. “Perhaps if he’d spent more time questioning the men he allowed into his home—into his girlfriend…he’d have found his supposed mole.”

“Harry trusts too easily,” Asher declares, finally straightening up and allowing you to breathe. “Always has. It makes him incredibly weak.”

“And incompetent.” Matthews rakes his gaze over your tense figure. “Can’t imagine what she sees in him.”

“She sees what he wants her to see,” Asher says. “If he tells her he loves her, she believes it. If he tells her she’s safe, she believes it. If he tells her she loves him…she’ll believe it. All he has to do is convince her that she’s being saved, and she’ll do anything he wants.”

It’s the lowest of blows. Coming from the man who watched your relationship bloom from the very beginning. Who was there through every fight, every miscommunication, every moment of realization.

He knows the two of you better than anybody else does.

And if this is truly how he feels…

The office door slams open. Four men wrestle through the frame, pulling a struggling man in their grasp.

Harry.

You see him out of your peripheral. See the blood around his cheeks, the bruises already darkening in color, and the ripped fabric on his chest.

You feel sick. Distraught beyond measure and when his eyes find yours, tears begin slipping down your cheeks.

He’s shoved onto his knees as Matthews stands from behind his desk. Asher remains to the side, watching as a gun is pressed into the temple of his friend’s head.

He says nothing. Shows no remorse or acknowledgement of such cruelty.

His indifference is infuriating.

“Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Matthews begins as one of the guards weaves their fingers through Harry’s hair and yanks his head back. “But I am a little disappointed.”

Harry remains quiet. Breathing heavily between gritted teeth as he stares daggers through the man approaching.

“I was hoping for a little more of a fight,” the man admits. “Perhaps even a reason to respect you before I kill you. But I see you lose your edge where she’s concerned.”

Your nails scrape down the chair. Desperately wanting to run to him. To throw your body in front of his and shield him from the weapon you can already see Asher slipping from his belt.

“It’s a shame she has to watch the great Harry Styles die in such a trivial way,” he tsks, hand outstretching for the gun Asher is offering to him. “But I suppose that’s what you get…for thinking you were strong enough to save her.”

The sound of a bullet ripping through the air reaches you before the realization does.

The weapon has been fired. A body is hitting the floor and you’re ready to scream as a smattering of blood streaks across your cheek.

With a wounded, heavy, and unmendable heart, you find the man you love. Needing to see him one last time.

But Harry is still kneeling on the floor. Exactly the way he was before, now covered in a few extra drops of blood.

That aren’t his.

You turn and look for the answer.

You find it with Asher.

The gun is raised and pointed toward the large man responsible for so much pain and destruction. You see the bullet through his skull as his lifeless body splays across the ground. A pool of blood collecting around his head.

Smoke wafts from the barrel as Asher stares calmly and stoically before he turns his attention and his weapon toward the other four in the room.

“You touch her…or you touch him,” he begins in a threatening murmur, eyebrow raised and ready for any defiance, “and I will make sure there’s enough room in the ground for your bodies, too.”

A moment of silence dances between the walls.

And then, for the second time in twenty-four hours, you’re forced to watch a sea of bullets fly through the air.

You aren’t sure who fires first. Aren’t sure where the danger lies. But you are sure of the way you lunge yourself at Harry’s body to pull him out of harm’s way.

His arms wrap around your torso as you both roll into the corner, just behind the desk. The sound of more gunshots echoes in from the rest of the warehouse as you make the connection that Harry’s men have arrived.

Your ears are ringing. Your chest is pounding. So much violence and strife is happening all around you. And you can do nothing but bury your face in Harry’s chest and will it to be over.

And through all the chaos, you hear him whisper, “I’m so fucking sorry. I had to. I had to let them take you, I’m so fucking sorry. Never let them take you again. I love you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You aren’t sure when it finally stops. At least in this room. Aren’t sure when the ricocheting of bullets comes to an end. But you do eventually feel Harry lift up to survey the damage and make sure the coast is clear.

The resonating terror is pounding inside your head, but you do your best to follow him out from behind the table. Clutching onto his hand as he leads you into the main part of the office where you find an array of dead bodies and blood dispersed across the walls and floor.

And just when you feel the first rush of relief in what feels like weeks…you find one more body in the corner of the room.

With a bullet hole right through his chest.

Asher.

Wow, now that's two parts where we end with his name said all dramatically, it's almost like he's the main character??? OOPS??? 🙃 I LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU FOR READING AND WAITING AND BEING SO NICE TO ME😭💞

Next Part:

~ Home

Previous Part:

~ Lost

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist (If you ever need or want to be taken off, or simply excluded from certain fics like this one, please let me know!! 💞) : @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki

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i314flix · 10 months

Text

ONE MORE KISS !

— george weasley x fem!reader | the one where you wait for george, who volunteers to be one of the seven potters, at the burrow.

( 1.1k words ) pg-15; fluff, semi-angst, established relationship au; unedited.

This was nerve-wracking. You didn’t even know why you agreed to be on this side of the team despite being aware that you were perhaps better in the field (being an aspiring Auror and a good one at that), and was absolute rubbish when it came to waiting.

Though yet again, it was George Weasley who made you promise that you weren’t going to volunteer to be a Potter duplicate for the said chosen one’s safe travel to the Burrow, the place you were already in at the moment, as he reckoned that it was enough that he had to worry about his father and brothers being with him for the task; he didn’t want to be preoccupied thinking about whether his girlfriend was managing herself well too.

“I’ll be careful,” George promised you before the both of you parted earlier, a kiss planted on your forehead, “I’ll meet you at the Burrow, safe and sound, alright?”

You only nodded, not knowing what to do or say. You wanted to stop him from leaving, to convince him that it was too dangerous—however, you also knew that it was selfish of you to do so, considering that what he was going to do was not only for the betterment of Harry Potter himself, but possibly the whole wizarding world.

A loud sound of crashing coming from the front yard pushed you out of your trance and you stood up from your seat to run outside, quickly followed by Ginny who had been quiet and pacing around the house in anxiety before she heard the crash too.

It was Hagrid and Harry, the real Harry you presumed as Ginny launched towards him so that they could embrace. You let out a breath, relieved that he was here unharmed, but admittedly not relieved enough as there was still no sign of George.

Though as if on cue, two men suddenly appeared on the right side of the lawn via apparition and you recognized them to be Remus and George immediately, with the latter being supported by the former.

It dawned on you that George was injured. The side of his head was bleeding.

“I’m good, I’m all good,” were the first words he uttered to you once you were close, grabbing his other arm so you and Remus can carry him to the Burrow together.

You couldn’t reply. Your heart was thumping so hard inside your chest. You were just thankful that he at least still had the strength to stay conscious and talk to you as he was being led to the sofa.

Once he was laid there, Remus approached Harry while you rushed to get some medical supplies that could help his condition. Molly tended to George then, brushing his hair and whispering thanks that he didn’t arrive in a worse condition, before she went to you and said that you can be in charge of George as she waits for her other family members’ arrival.

“Sweetheart,” George murmured, staring at you kneeling beside him and taking out a bunch of bandages and some healing potion to help with his blown up ear, “I’m fine, I promise.”

Still, no sentence was spoken. You remained acting busy, just rummaging through the medical kit even though you’ve already got what you needed. You were annoyed by what he just said, but you didn’t want to show it, aware that it might be ridiculous to do so as it wasn’t like George wished to get himself hurt.

“Sweetie,” he repeated, voice hoarse and tone more pleading, “look at me, will you?”

You didn’t oblige. You just zipped the bag close and placed it on the floor.

“____.” He called your name, stern and demanding now with a hand holding your wrist to stop you from moving too much.

You finally looked at him, his eyes turning soft at the way yours started to water. You were a strong girl, he knew that, and you didn’t like showing your vulnerability to anyone or in any circumstances unless it greatly affected you—and judging by how you were forcing yourself not to cry or show too much emotion because of what happened to him, it was clear to him that you were so affected by this and that he indeed made you worry so much to the point of wanting to sob.

“I’m okay,” he said again, bringing your wrist over his chest, just so your palm can rest on where you can feel his heart the most, “it’s still beating for you, love.”

You inhaled sharply, a lame attempt to stop yourself from fully crying, and nodded. “It is.”

“It’s just my ear that was messed up. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

“It’s still an ear, nonetheless.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got another one.”

You closed your eyes momentarily. There was no point in arguing. “Whatever. Let me start—” you were supposed to pull your hand away from his chest to start healing him but he stopped you. “What?” you asked.

“Give me a kiss.”

“A kiss?”

“A kiss, yes.”

“George, you’re still bleeding and—”

“Just one, please,” he cut you off once more. “I thought I almost didn’t make it, you know. Then I kept thinking what if it really was the end of it all, and then I remembered I only kissed you on the forehead before I left, and that would’ve been the last kiss you had from me.”

He truly had a peculiar mind. You ought to think that there were better things to think of when you were perhaps on the brink of death, and yet what he was thinking of was that he never gave you a proper kiss on the lips.

“You’re a bloody idiot, love,” you said, leaning in to give him one peck on the lips, “and quite literally too, that is.” You gave him another kiss, this one fuller and with George placing a hand on your back to press you further towards him.

It was only when the both of you heard Fred cough that you pulled away, glancing behind you to see his twin brother looking at him with worry.

“Sorry to steal him away from you, ____,” Fred said as you stood up, granting him the permission to go to your previous spot. “Just had to check on this clumsy git.”

You chuckled, hugging Fred quickly too in gratefulness because he was fine as well, before going to the kitchen and preparing something for the whole lot to eat with Molly.

As you waited for the water to boil for some tea, you leaned on the counter and gazed towards George who was still conversing with Fred.

The moment your eyes met for a brief second, he had the nerve to wink.

You smiled.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagines #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #weasley imagines #weasley x reader #george x reader #george weasley fanfiction

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persephone11110 · 4 months

Text

A Web Of Lies | J. Seresin

warnings: past physical abuse, past domestic violence-> old traditional views of how women are supposed to be,victim blaming—self victim blaming, hurt/comfort, protective jake seresin, mentions of throwing up and being on your period, oc death-> mentions of alcohol abuse and car accident

summary:“Y/n sometimes it best if women are seen and not heard,sometimes its best if you just take the hits and don’t react”. Mama tells you while holding an icepack to her swollen eye.

AN: do i need therapy or do i need keep writing oc’s with childhood trauma?

ocs: Betty L/n, Harry L/n, Darren

—

THIS STORY IS ABOUT DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND GENERATIONAL TRAUMA AND MISOGYNISTIC SOCIETIAL VIEWS SO PLEASE BE CAREFUL

—

Women are seen not heard.

It’s a phrase you learned as a little girl, it’s an assumption youv’e lived by for awhile, taking it in consideration when saw your dad first hit your mom, when Darren first slapped you. Its always the women fault— it can never be the man fault.

You didn’t learn this lesson until your eight years old, when your father facade cripples quickly. Before this happened he was sweet to you, always calling you his princess, having tea parties with you—throwing you over his shoulder.

His laughter was loud and clear , just like yours until it isn’t. Your dad is everything a man is supposed to be until he isn’t. The loudness that once meant happiness turns into—loud agressive shouting, when it’s him and mama alone together.

Well they think their alone together. Your wandering down the staircase to see were he went as he promised to read you the cinderella story again—like he did most nights, reading to you until your snores filled the room.

They’re fighting again which isn’t surprising to say the least. Your parents always argued whether it was in hushed tones or it was so loud that your neighbors next door would come over and make sure everything was fine.

“Betty it wouldn’t be like this if you just made me happy!”,his voice booms, bouncing off the walls. He doesn’t look like he usually does, his hair was messy opposed to the gel back look he normally wore, his clothes has stains on it- something that was unheard of until tonight.

You swear mama not breathing after you watched daddy ball his fist up, striking her across the face. The cracking sound echoes throughout the living room, mama on the ground holding the right side of her face.

You go to open your mouth, worried for your mama. But before you can your nanny Louisa gently wraps her hand around your mouth. “Shh little one, lets get to bed–theres school remember”. Louisa picks you up and you lean your head on her shoulder, leaving your mama bleeding on the cold floor alone.

It makes mama stop arguing with daddy, his combat boots were heavy aganist the floor as he leaves through the front door— using all his strength to slame it.

In the morning you notice how quiet mama is, how red and swollen her face is. “Louisa taking you to school today Y/n” her voice is small and soft.

“Mama why did daddy hit you?”. She almost drops the kettle onto the ground, mama didn’t know you were there watching the vicious scene unfold.

Thats the day your mama infamous words get stuck in your head,“Sometimes mama makes daddy mad, sometimes women must be seen and not heard”.

It words that stay with Y/n for over an decade.

—

Circa of 2002

Your in your junior year of college when the lesson your mom taught you is sitting in the back of your mind.

Just take the hit Y/n, it makes life easier.

Your relationship with Darren is so fresh, yet your already mimicking how your mom acts around your dad. Your already walking on eggshells with him, he already rolls his eyes when you forget to give him the answers to the psychologyhomework—it meant your walking on thin line of his frustration.

Sometimes you think you deserve the bruises that riddle your body, how many times have you forgotten to call him back, when he tells you to. Sometimes he’s annoyed with how much you move in your sleep, “I can’t sleep Y/n if you move so much”.

Your relationship with Darren was the true epitome of Opposite Attracts. Like today you got excited telling Darren about the release of the book Coraline. You remembered him reminding you to calm down, him telling you didn’t care about his day.

Or when your on your period and he insists that your fine, and how you had the tendency to overreact when it came to your pain. How he’s sighs when your own the ground cleaning up your throw up as the cramps had gotten worse. Telling you its 2AM in the morning and he’s desperately trying to sleep, and now he can’t.

The guilt eats away at you for days, now when you get your period you slept on the bathroom floor.

You don’t have friends anymore, as Darren had grown controlling of your social life. “Am I not enough for you, Y/n?”. Your friends grow tired of seeing you so bruised, they grow tired of trying to help someone who didn’t want the help. Its just you and Darren now–at least he didn’t grow tired of you.

It took ten years for you to leave, your about two years into your nursing job. Your a hypocrite, as you stood infront of a woman in a coma, her husband had beaten to her within an inch of her life and the only chance she had at living was a medical induced coma.

Here you were holding her hand telling her it wasn’t her fault. “Sometimes we believe we don’t deserve better and we believe there is no one out there who will ‘love’ us”. You sighed, lifting one hand to wipe away your tears.

You left him-leaving the state and finding a job all the way in Miramar, California—changing your cell number and email. A phone call from your mother makes you almost burst out laughing,“Y/n I’m so sorry for your loss sweetheart he was such a nice boy”. Darren drinking habit has gotten worse, he managed to flip his car over on its side. You didn’t feel like telling her about the break up - there was no use anway, as she’ll tell you to beg for his love again, like all the other times.

Present

You sitting across from Jake, staring at him waiting for him to tell you how much you suck at cooking. Waiting for him to pick up the dish and chuck it over your head—listening to him pop open another beer, the plate and flood sliding down the wall.

It doesnt come, its never going to.

Jake gives you a soft smile, and he reaches for your hand to hold it, as he eats.“God damn darlin, you put your entire foot in it”.

“Thank you Jake”, You push your chair back, moving to collect his dish. He softly grips your hand, stopping you from moving.

“Darlin I have legs—finish your food first”. He drops a kiss onto your head before walking to the kitchen. His southern drawl thicker than usual.

Darren did always say you were stubborn. You were standing infront of the sink washing all the dishes that had been used for dinner. Despite Jake telling you didn’t have to.

“Y/n is cleaning so hard for you?”.

“Is it so hard for my girlfriend to clean up after herself?”, your holding a cold beer to your swollen face.

“Darlin, no”. Jake wraps his arms around you not caring about your wet clothes. “Let me do it Y/n”. He gently pushes you into the kitchen chair.

Jake doing the dishes right now.

Something your dad wouldn’t dare do for your mom,“Betty I’m tired the least my wife can do is clean up for me”. Darren wouldn’t neither—“Goodnight Y/n, or I’m watching the game”, leaving you in the dark kitchen alone.

Jake Seresin isn’t them, Jake isn’t the man you’ve spent majority of your life scared of. It’s takes time for you believe that, it takes time for you to believe his words,“I will never lay a hand on you Y/n”.

It took some time but staring at him washing the dishes singing along with Beyoncé you start to believe him. You know for certain that Jacob Grant Seresin is not like them—he can’t be.

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader

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ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey · 7 months

Text

Want

“--and you’d think, after rereading the chapter twice that I’d have a bleeding clue what Vector was on about, but I haven’t. The OWL is going to be a complete disaster.”

“You could always fall asleep in the middle,” Harry suggests, smirking. “I’ve heard that’s an effective way to get out of OWLs.”

“Excellent advice,” Ginny snorts. “And anyway, what are you on about, ‘fall asleep in the middle'? I thought you had a vision?”

It’s odd to joke about what was arguably the worst evening of his life – the worst evening in a life already rife with horrific evenings contending for the top spot – but he finds that the twinge of grief and regret doesn’t come. Not while her warm hand is clasped in his. “I did,” he says airily. “After I fell asleep.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” she snickers, smacking his arm lightly with her free hand. They’re not taking the most direct route from the Library to the Gryffindor Common Room, choosing instead to meander lazily in the relative privacy of the nearly-curfew corridors. They’ve ended up somewhere on the fourth floor, somehow. “What’ll you do when I flunk out of Hogwarts, eh?”

“You won’t,” he answers.

“I might,” she says warningly, and then she heaves a great sigh. “I suppose I could stay at home and help Mum with the chickens, assuming she doesn’t murder me…”

She’s joking, but Harry thinks he sees a glint of something resembling genuine worry in her expression. He’s reminded irresistibly of himself in the days leading up to his expulsion hearing, how he’d gone to Sirius, hoping desperately for reassurance that expulsion wouldn’t mean the end…

“If you do, we could always just move to France,” Harry says. “According to Fleur it’s better there anyway.”

Ginny raises an eyebrow. “‘We’?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, nonchalant. “You’re not ditching me here to do NEWTs alone.”

Ginny stares at him, and then a smile spreads across her lips. “Yeah, alright. But not France. I’m not going anywhere Fleur thinks is good.”

“Wherever,” Harry shrugs easily. “I’m not fussy.”

Ginny tugs at his arm so he’s facing her, and then she backs him slowly up against the craggy stone wall of the corridor, and he feels his heart quicken. “What about Siberia? Would you go there?”

She’s pressed herself up against him, her hands snaking up around his shoulders, and he’s finding it difficult to think at the minute. “Siberia could be nice.”

She presses her lips against his, so soft, and his breath hitches in his chest. Before he has the chance to melt into her, she pulls back, but only just. Her eyelids are fluttering, and her lips still ghost against his as she whispers, “The Sahara, then?”

��Sure,” he agrees, not caring where he’s agreeing to as long as she’s there, and then he’s kissing her. He wonders vaguely if he’ll ever get used to this: the feel of her pressed up against his chest, the way his life seems so much brighter now that it’s lit up with her fiery glow, how dangerous wanting has become now that all he wants is her.

He kisses her, and pulls her in closer, and the want nearly swallows him whole - to touch her everywhere, to have her for more than just a fleeting moment, to escape the sword hanging overhead, poised to slice him open along the seams she’s only just sewn together.

Siberia could be nice, really. No prophecy, or Horcruxes, or Voldemort. Just Ginny, her skin dappled with freckles, and the cackle of a laugh that he loves coaxing out of her.

He might be free to want her and actually have her there.

#hinny #canon compliant #hbp missing moment #hinny fluff

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harrysfolklore · 1 year

Note

Someone throwing something onstage and it hits bandmate yn and he gets all upset??

here it is! this was previously posted on patreon, if you want access to my work earlier and exclusive writings, SUBSCRIBE HERE

BANDMATE!YN MASTERLIST

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

Harry loved performing, and now that he gets to do that alongside with his girlfriend, he loves it even more.

His shows are known for being a safe space for everyone, a place where they can be whoever they want to be, dance the night away, meet new people and if they’re lucky enough, get some advice from their favorite singer or get him to catch something they throw on stage for him.

All kinds of stuff were thrown on stage for him and his band: flags, stuffed animals, crocheted flowers, signs and sometimes even phones, but lately his fans were fond on throwing water on stage, with the purpose of starting a water fight with Harry.

Harry didn’t have a problem with his fans throwing stuff his way, in fact, he quite enjoyed seeing what they come up with, but he surely wasn’t fond of them throwing water on stage because it made the space all slippery and easy for him or anyone on his band to fall. Some fans caught up that he didn’t like when they did that, being able to tell it by the serious face he makes when he notices it, but some decide to turn a blind eye and do it anyway, and that was tonight’s case.

The band was on stage halfway through their 8th of 15 shows in Los Angeles, adrenaline running through their veins as they performed Medicine, Harry and YN had a tradition of singing the second verse together so she always moved towards where his mic stand was set to share the microphone with him, and every single time the action made the fans go nuts. Tonight wasn’t the exception, as the second verse approached, YN moved to where Harry was already waiting for her, but she failed to notice the wet surface that made her slip and fall, landing on her elbow and cutting it open since she was wearing a tank top for the night.

“Shit,” Harry let out on the microphone as he hurried towards his girlfriend, not caring about the fact that he stopped mid song and everyone in the arena was looking, “Baby, are you okay?” he grabbed her face looking for an answer before he noticed her bleeding elbow “Of course you’re not, fucking wet floors, they should know by now throwing water is not the goddamn thing to do.” he spoke again, fans on the barricade could faintly hear him and the anger on his voice was evident, along with his sour expression and furrowed brows.

"I'm okay H, I just need a quick bandage and I'll be good to go," YN said as she got up from the floor with Harry's help, looking at her elbow for the first time and noticing that her injure was worse than she thought.

"Nonsense, I need to take you to the hospital, this show is over," his face was as serious as the tone of his voice, proper upset that his girlfriend got injured because of some careless fans.

“You're being irrational now, we're not ditching the show when there's just two songs left, let me get bandaged up so I can keep playing, and go back to singing or everyone will be upset," YN scolded him as she walked to the stairs to get off the stage, a medical crew was already waiting for her for a quick check up

"Fuck everyone."

And regardless of a crowd of more than 20,000 people waiting for him, he followed his girlfriend off the stage, stood next to her as the medical crew cleaned and bind up her elbow, luckily the injury was pretty superficial and no stitches were needed, however, Harry was still pretty much upset and worried.

"Once we get up that stage again you're going to wipe that angry face off and we're going to play the last two songs as if nothing happened, okay?" YN scolded him again, she was bummed about getting hurt too but she wasn't going to let him take it out on his fans just because a couple of them were the reason she got injured.

"Okay, but everyone can expect a lecture about throwing water tomorrow, that's for sure" he kissed her lips quickly before they went back to the stage, and even with an injured elbow YN still delivered a great performance like the rock star she is.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight t @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci i @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @rafeyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay

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sheeple · 4 months

Text

Miracles don't exist | 35: The cellar

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Torture / mutilation / time is weird in this one [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The Death Eaters drag you kicking and screaming down the hall. They've managed to disarm you before you could do sustainable damage to any of them. You trash in their hold, trying your best to get out and run. Maybe you even have a chance to snatch your wand.

You let out a groan as they throw you on the ground. A hand reaches out and grabs a fistful of your hair. You whimper and move along with the hand. Bellatrix has a sneer on her face as she presses her wand into your neck.

"For how long have you been spying on us?"

You shake your head as much as her hold permits. "I haven't-"

"LIAR!", she screeches and raises her wand. A hot red flash passes over you before your body contorts painfully. You let out a yell. The feeling of millions of knives piercing your body. "TRAITOR!"

By the time the curse had let up, you're breathless. Your head lulls to the side, tears in your eyes. And to be honest, the only thing you can think about is that you're glad Theo isn't here.

She shoves something in your face. A letter. The same one you wrote during the Ministry hearing. It must have fallen out of your pocket during the chase. Yaxley for sure must have picked it up.

"That isn't... mine." Determined, you look at Bellatrix and give her a sneer.

Bellatrix raises her hand and strikes you. Your cheek stings and flares up as you feel your nose starting to bleed again. "You dare to betray the Dark Lord?! Betray your own kin?! You should be killed!" Bellatrix raises her wand again, a murderous glint in her eyes.

You don't flinch. If you're going to die, you'll die fighting. Collecting the blood in your mouth, you spit it in Bellatrix's face. An audible gasp goes around the room as they watch the red glob hit her face.

"Go ahead, kill me. You were never my family", you hiss, giving her a cold stare, "I wish you would have rotted away in Azkaban."

Bellatrix shrieks, going absolutely ballistic. She summons a knife and holds you down. First, you’re hit with another round of crucio so you stop struggling in her hold. You can handle that. But then… The point of a knife gets slowly pressed into the flesh of your collarbone before the spell has run its course. You try to wiggle away, crying and sobbing as the pain only multiplies as Bellatrix carves something in your flesh.

It feels like it goes on for hours. At one point you stopped moving, seeing no will to do so. You stare off into the distance, seeing the Malfoy's stand huddled together. Draco looks horrified while Narcissa clings to Lucius.

Is there no one who would stand up for you? No one would save you from this torture? Yes, but you’ve sent that someone away. For his safety. Yes, everything for Theodore’s safety.

By the time Bellatrix is done, you're halfway passed out. You barely notice how you are grabbed and dragged somewhere. Somewhere dark where the door slams loudly and a heavy lock turns.

You lay curled up on the cold floor, your body twitching and gasping for breath. In between the ringing in your ears, you hear footsteps approaching you.

"Please", you gasp, "no more. Please..." Rolling to your belly, you do your best to crawl away from whomever it may be that is ordered to do your next round of Crucio.

"Miss Black?", asks a soft voice and you stop. You roll back and look at the person who said your name. Mr Olivander

A relieved sob escapes you. At least he won't hurt you.

The older man — who looks worse for wear — gives you a small smile. "Miss Black- or should I say Mrs Nott? Cedar, almost 13 inches, swishy, with a core of unicorn hair, if I am not mistaken." Mr Ollivander nods and walks off, returning with a lantern.

With much difficulty, you push yourself into a seated position. "Oh... you're bleeding, dear." He points to your collarbone. You reach out but hiss as the flesh is still tender.

You look around, your eyes adjusting to the dark. "Where are we?"

Mr Ollivander hands you a small bowl of water. Your hands still shake as you take it gratefully and take slow sips. "We're in the cellar." The old man groans as he goes to sit against a wall.

He looks deadly pale and his cheeks are fallen in. "How... how long have you been down here?", you ask carefully. He must be the one you've heard screaming a while back.

Mr Olivander's shoulders slump. "I'm afraid I do not know. Time moves differently down here. It's made so no witch or wizard can use their magic to escape."

The wandmaker spoke the truth. Despite the once-a-day meals — at least, you think it is. Could be a once-in-many-days with the way your body aches — there is no indicator if it's day or time.

Draco often sneaks you and Mr Olivander extra food. It's mostly in the form of an apple which he rolls through the bars of the door. You turn away every time he whispers your name, his hands clutching the bars tightly. Only after he leaves deflated, do you scramble to eat the apple.

As time passes Mr Olivander and you get cellmates. At first, it's Griphook. He's a sour man who distrusts any who's a witch or wizard. He mostly sits in the corner and grumbles to himself.

Next is Luna. You're actually happy and at the same time sad to see her. You throw your arms around her and squeeze her tightly. "Are you okay? Are you broken? Does something bleed?" You turn her over and rake your eyes over her front to see if any blood has seeped into her clothes.

"I am fine. I however do not know where I am." She looks around before her eyes fall on Mr Olivander. She makes her way over to him and strikes up a conversation as if it's a normal Tuesday at tea time.

Running a hand over your face, you turn towards her. "What date is it?"

"The Christmas break has just started."

The shock dawns upon you when you count out the months. It's been three months. Three months trapped in this blasted cellar. You knew it was more than a couple of weeks, as your wound has healed and is only a scar now.

Oh Merlin, Theo must think that you've died. That either Bellatrix or Voldemort have killed you. Tortured you before ending your life abruptly and too soon.

You slide down a wall, hand clasped over your mouth as tears spill out of your eyes. You stay like that for Salazar knows how long. The heartache of the idea that Theodore mourns your death makes you immobile with sorrow. It feels pointless to move if you can't communicate with him that you're indeed alive.

What you can only assume are months passing by before something happens. There is screaming from upstairs before someone's coming down the stairs. You hide in the dark, pressing yourself up against the wall as two people get pushed inside.

The two figures rush towards the gate. "What are we gonna do? We can't leave Hermione alone with her."

Luna slowly creeps forward and calls out a name. "Ron? Harry?"

The two figures turn around and as a light flickers on, it indeed are Ron and Harry. Harry's face looks pretty busted up.

Slowly everyone comes out of their hiding spot now. The two boys' eyes fall upon you. Harry rushes towards you, wanting to hug you. But you flinch away, hiding behind a pillar. Harry stops with a frown on his face. "What happened to you?"

An agonising scream is heard from upstairs and your stomach drops as you recognise the voice. Hermione. "Oh no", you whisper, moving closer to the door. You flinch as she screams out. Involuntarily, a whimper escapes you. You can imagine what Bellatrix is doing with her.

"We have to do something!" Ron turns towards the group, a distraught expression on his face.

Mr Olivander shakes his head. "There is no way out of here. We've tried everything! It's enchanted."

Another whimper escapes you and you lean your forehead against the icy bars as Hermione pleads and screams.

Harry crouches down and takes something out of his sock. A shard or something. He speaks to it, begging for help.

Wormtail comes scurrying down the stairs, wand in hand and pushing Ron and Harry away. He takes Griphook before he's gone again.

Ron returns the light and at the moment Dobby appears. He stumbles a bit but is overall happy to see Harry. "Dobby? What are you doing here?"

"Dobby has come to rescue Harry Potter of course! Dobby will always be there for Harry Potter!"

You take a good look at the elf. It has been some years since you've seen him. Harry actually made Lucius free Dobby in your second year. You know that because your uncle loudly complained to the whole manor how annoying it was that they lost a house elf.

Dobby seems to spot you and bows to you. "Miss Black! It is good to see you alive."

You give him a small and tired smile. "Happy to see you too, Dobs."

"Wait- are you saying you can apparate in and out of this room?", Harry realises. Of course, the Dark Lord's minions didn't house elf-proof the cellar. They're idiots.

And so a plan is hatched. Dobby firstly take you, Luna, and Mr Olivander to some address Ron provided.

"No", you protest, "I want to help. I want to fight. I want to hurt them like they hurt me!" Tears fill your eyes.

Harry shakes his head. "You're in no condition to fight. You have to go to safety."

Reluctantly, you hold one of Dobby's hands with Luna and you are pulled and squeezed before you land on something wett. Sand.

Hurling, you puke up the joke of a meal you've been provided with. Falling over, you lay on your back and stare up at the sky. Never once in your life, you've been so happy to see it being overcast.

Pressing the balls of your hands into your eyes, the first whimper escapes you before you start to weep. You're okay. It's finally over. You're out of that blasted cellar.

The only clear though is that you have to find a way to track down your Teddy and hope he hasn't been doing anything stupid in your name.

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever @nopedefe @randomgurl2326

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 1 year

Note

Bestie can you write something about reader getting her period and Harry having to go get her tampons and he’s all scared n stuff?

pairing: mafia harry x reader

warnings: harry threatens to shoot someone, caring mafia harry, mentions of blood and periods, swearing, period sex(kinda)

Harry has just gotten out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist as he gums quietly, entering his and YN’s bedroom to get dressed for the day. He doesn’t have plans until much later, so he settles for some boxers and no shirt, ready to get back in bed and cuddle with YN until she wakes up.

As he’s slipping back under the covers though, he feels something wet as his leg grazes her backside, making him physically recoil. He takes a quick peek and his face pales as he realizes it’s blood on YN’s thighs. He has a moment of internal panic as he tries to figure out where to go from here but then he decides to just wake her up, feeling guilty that he’s interrupting her sleep. She groans in annoyance at being woken up, but Harry knows it’s for a good reason.

“You’re bleeding, love,” he mumbled awkwardly, trying not to show his discomfort for the situation. It’s not that he’s disgusted by it or anything, he’s just never dealt with a period in this way. Her eyes shoot open and she whines as she now feels the sticky feeling between her thighs.

Tears are forming quickly and he’s quick to come over to her and shush her cries, not liking the tears one bit. “Cmon, dove. No tears, hm?” he coos, thumbing away at the salty tears that have started tracking down her face. “What can I do?” he whispers.

“I wasn’t supposed to get m’period for another week and I planned to get tampons tomorrow. I don’t have anything here to use,” she sniffles, embarrassed at the way their morning has begun. “Could you run to the store and get me something? Just something to hold me over until I can go?” she asks him, squirming uncomfortably in her place.

“You want me to get you…tampons?” he questions uneasily, his stomach already in knots. He’s never had to do anything like this before, and he definitely didn’t plan for this today. She just nods at him and he already can’t say no to her on a regular day, the fact that he knows she’s embarrassed when she doesn’t have to be and the fact that she’s probably in pain isn’t helping.

So he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips before getting dressed. Before he leaves YN tells him the brand she needs and the kind, thanking him as she quickly strips the sheets to soak them. He’s out the door in 5 minutes flat and as he drives to the store he repeats her instructions over and over, but it all leaves his head the moment he steps in the doors.

Imagine the fear and curiosity all of the cashiers have when they see the most feared crime boss enter their job in confident strides; none of them notice the way he’s mumbling the brand name under his breath or the way his hands are slightly shaking as he heads straight for the aisle he needs.

The commotion in the store is at a standstill as they all wait with baited breaths for him to emerge from the aisle, none of them having the confidence to check in on him. He’s in a squatting position as he searches, but then his scattered thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone behind him.

“Hello, sir. Can I help you find anything?” the young man asks carefully, slowly stepping over to where Harry is beginning to get frustrated and is still searching. He stands up so quickly that Eric flinches back in fear.

“Look me in the eye again and I’ll shoot your foot off,” he snaps gruffly, making the younger employee shift his eyes to the floor immediately. He then thinks of what YN would say if she were here and takes a deep breath, deciding to try again. “Do you know where the, um, L brand assorted tampons are?” he mumbles, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his neck.

Eric nods immediately and steps over to where they are, grabbing two boxes and bringing them back to Harry. “Is there anything else you’re looking for?” he asks meekly, and Harry just shrugs his shoulders and mumbles an ‘I don’t know what she’d need’. From then Eric and Harry go around the store and grab everything she could possibly need. Pain killers, a heating pad, snacks, and he even found a cute little panda face mask he knows she’d love.

They’re at the register a few short minutes later and Harry’s cheeks are on fire as he can feel all the eyes on him, and he just wishes Eric would hurry the fuck up. When everything is bagged and paid for, Harry slips him a literal hundred dollar bill and nods in thanks as he heads from the store with his bags, eager to get home to YN.

He practically speeds home to get to her, and the moment his shoes are off at the door he’s sprinting up the stairs with the bags in his hands. He finds her in the shower and he places the tampons on the counter before heading into the bedroom to drop everything else off.

Not long after, YN emerges from the bathroom with a dopey smile on her face at his gesture, walking to stand in between his legs.

“Thank you,” she starts, her words nothing short of genuine. Just the sweetest husband,” her words are feeding his ego and he leans up to press a greedy kiss to her lips.

“Yeah?” he pulls away. “Gonna let me show how sweet I can really be?” he teases, moving down to nip at the sweet spot on her neck. She moans softly and leans into his touch.

“Never gonna say no to that,” she responds. Harry wastes no more time, and in mere seconds he’s got her bare and on her back, legs spread as he lines himself up with her.

#harryistheonlyoneforme #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #smut #harry styles #harry styles filth #dbf harry styles #harry related writings #dbf harry #mafia harry #mafia!harry #mafiarry #mobrry #mob harry #mob!harry

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renx01 · 2 months

Text

You called

Prompt: “You came.” - “You called.” Pairing: Harry Hart x Reader Fandom: Kingsman Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood and injuries, honeypot mission Word count: 1511

‘Galahad.’ It was barely a whisper which came out of your mouth. The predicament you were in wasn’t as you had planned. The mission in and of itself was relatively simple: go to an event, talk to some high ranking people and criminals in order to gather information, and leave. Yet, here you were sitting on the floor in an alley, bleeding from a gunshot wound.

It had been going quite well. Your target, Vincent Giante, had been at the event early and you had approached carefully but confidently. Merlin had informed you that he was, in fact, a ladies-man, and that it could be of use to, as he said, “throw your womanly charms at him”. You ended up following that advice after the target had shown interest in you, most likely due to the rather revealing emerald-green dress you were wearing. ‘My, my, a lovely young lady at an event such as this one, alone and seemingly without a date.’ Vincent had said to you as he approached. It sounded vulgar as he said it, as if she were a piece of meat, an object which he was intent on owning. That would never happen in a million years if you had any say in it. You did, however, have to play into it. ‘Why thank you, I’m flattered.’ You say as he grabs your hand and leans down to kiss it, his touch lingering a tad too long for your liking. ‘So what’s your name darling?’ ‘Josephine.’ Was what you answered as you heard Merlin in your ear. Target on lock. Vincent made small-talk with you for a bit before the two of you were approached by a man. ‘Sorry, boss, that I have to interrupt your conversation with this lovely lady.’ He leans in and whispers something to his boss which you’re unable to hear. That’s Vincent’s right-hand man, Giovanni. Be careful around him, he can be quite the fighter. Merlin informs you before the pair can shift their focus back to you. ‘Sorry love, I have to go meet with some people.’ He sounded genuinely disappointed. He leans in to kiss your cheek and whispers in your ear. ‘If you’re feeling up for it, meet me outside in an hour.’

Time passed slowly as you waited to meet up with Vincent. You were in fact, not feeling up to it, but it was too good of a chance to pass up. During that time, you mingled with some more of the guests, but were unable to gather any information that was particularly of note. Merlin, on the other hand, was able to gather the information that Vincent supposedly had a harddrive with him which contained some secret documents which the Kingsman could use to folly his organisation’s plans. As the agreed upon time approaches, Merlin fills you in about the surroundings and what to look out for. Supposedly, Giante would have the drive somewhere on this person, so the goal had shifted from gaining information to getting the harddrive without being caught.

Outside, it was quiet, the hustle and bustle of the event left behind. Vincent stood near a statue in the gardens, seemingly alone, yet you knew better. It was likely that multiple of his men would be surrounding the two of you, looking out for his well-being. ‘Josephine, I’m glad you came.’ He smiles and puts his hand on your shoulder. ‘Let us walk for a bit, I’ve been inside all day.’ You take the arm which was offered to you and join him. After ten minutes you reach a part of the gardens which seemed completely isolated. Slowly, he tries getting closer, putting his hand on your lower back as he whispers things in your ear. You endure them, finding them disgusting but pretending to love the attention. Slowly, he starts kissing your neck and eventually mouth. If it weren’t for your training and experience, you probably would’ve gagged as his hands slowly started lowering further. Finding your focus again, you shifted it to trying to find the harddrive on him, roaming your hands over his body. Eventually, you feel it in one of his pockets, and slowly but surely, you try to get it out. As he starts getting more passionate you manage to grab hold of it. Slowly, you slip it into one of your hidden pockets. After a few more minutes you pull back and look him in the eye, smiling kindly. ‘We should take this elsewhere.’ Taking his hand, you lead him back to where the event was taking place. He seemed quite content for the time being, but you weren’t too convinced. Well done agent Kay, get out of there.

Vincent leads you back inside to a relatively quiet corner, stopping a moment to talk to one of his men. As you look around, you suddenly hear a click just behind you. ‘Now love, I had so much fun, but I’d prefer it if you handed back that harddrive.’ Vincent sticks out his hand while the man behind you slowly pushes the gun against the back of your head. ‘We can talk about this Vincent.’ You slowly walk up to him. Agent Kay what are you doing? Get out. Merlin almost screams in your ear as you try to remain as possible. You slowly put your hands up, ‘I was enjoying myself quite a bit, but I suppose that is now over?’ your voice is almost sickly sweet. The hand he was holding out slowly wraps around your chin, tilting it up. ‘It’d be a pity to lose this pretty face.’ You were stalling quite a bit, that was clear.

Kay, Galahad is on his way. Just get out of this venue.

Galahad, that was your sign. Your colleague was on the way and you only had to get out of the building. Leaning into his touch, he clearly gets distracted once again, just enough to pull out a small knife and throw it backwards into the man that was pointing a gun at you. Turning, you grab hold of the lead and break the man’s fingers, then shooting him with his own gun, followed by shooting Vincent in the head. ‘A shame really.’ You scoff before turning and running into the crowd, 8 men following you, their guns loaded. Every step felt hot, so very hot, and they were right on your heels. ‘Fuck’, a soft whisper escaping you as they start firing their guns.

Kay, I need you to confirm that you are on the way out. ‘Confirm Merlin, I just have to lose some people.’ Heels continue to click where-ever you go. After turning a corner in one of the many hallways, several more of the men following you go down as you disarm and shoot them. That is until you didn’t have any ammo left. Of course this would happen to you, as if your day wasn’t going terribly already. ‘At least I still have these ones.’ You throw a few knives, hitting several throats. Their blood covers your face. Around you several bodies lay and you are finally able to breathe, even if it’s just for a moment. ‘Galahad, do you copy?’ You say quietly as you continue walking through the maze of hallways. Several footsteps can be heard from several of the hallways around you, so you start running once again.

‘Merlin, where is Galahad?’

You don’t get a response.

Managing to finally get outside, heading into a dimly lit alleyway, you see over a dozen people following you. Pulling out your own gun, you shoot as many of them as possible while continuing to move. They shoot back, one hitting you in the leg.

‘Fuck.’

They seem to keep on coming, and slowly, they surround you. ‘Galahad do you copy?’ Bodies keep on falling, but time seems to be running out when another bullet hits you, this time in your left shoulder. Frustrated, you throw some more knives and grab one of your daggers. One by one they go down, and with every body that hits the ground, your green dress becomes more red and your limbs are covered in blood. As the last of your energy slowly leaves your body and you start feeling faint.

‘Galahad.’

It was barely a whisper which left your mouth. Before you are able to say anything else, you feel a gun being put against your temple. ‘Calm down lady, drop the knife.’ There was only one man left standing and he had the obvious advantage. You sigh, letting the weapon fall to the ground.

You had to find a way out of this situation, you always did, but your body seems to be done. A gunshot interrupts your train of thought, the gun which was held against your head, falling away. Turning, you see Galahad standing there.

‘You came.’

Your voice sounds exhausted as you stand there; shoulders slumped and body aching. Your colleague approaches and hugs your body tightly.

‘You called.’

He whispers in your ear before kissing the side of your head.

#harry hart x reader #harry hart reader insert #harry hart imagine #harry hart #the kingsman #kingsman #eggsy unwin #colin firth #merlin kingsman #kingsman x reader #kingsman imagine #imagine #fanfic #kingsman reader insert #you called #writing prompt #prompt #fanfiction

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theycallmemisterbutterfingers · 4 months

Text

Somebody To Luuuvvvvvv

so, i wrote this fic a WHILE ago, and promptly forgot abt it lmao. it was something i worked at on and off for a month, so it may be a little disjointed. also, I very much recommend listening to Somebody To Love (Queen) while reading, although depending on how speedy you are with reading, the fic will extend past the song's length. ALSO, I started writing it to mirror the lyrics of Somebody To Love, but I lost track of it a little in the last stretch, since there's a lotta instrumental and I just kinda went off HAH

anyhow

oh also i drew this little animation in like October and i'm sorry and you're welcome? sorry because ACK i swear to god i can draw better but you're welcome in case you like it ,,,,, yeah ,,,,,,, much love!!

Can

Anybody?

Find me

Somebody to…

Love.

…

Crowley launched himself up from his desk, sending a few pieces of glass clattering to the floor, shattered remains of his heart. He wobbled for a moment, the alcohol settling in weird places. Reality spun. He thought he saw stars. And then worse.

He thought he saw his angel.

His knees buckled, and his hand shot out to brace himself on his desk. His other hand reached up to shakily run a hand down his face. Take a look at this poor sod, he thought bitterly, about to berate himself. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of his window, and he traced the scars down her cheeks that the tears had left in their wake. Crowley sighed, then chuckled—a small, self-deprecating one. Oh, what he’s doing to me.

He’d spent all his years believing in the bastard, chasing him, wanting him, hoping that they were the same. Thinking that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t fully alone.

And then the angel took his heart and blasted it away with his halo. With his Heaven-besotted ideals that Crowley thought he had left behind. No such relief.

And all Crowley wanted was to love and be loved by him. Too much to ask, turns out.

…

He was behind the wheel. Again. He didn’t quite know how he got there, really, and he didn’t know where he was going, either. All he knew was that he was driving—driving away. Driving far away from…what? The work he had put in for himself—for his angel—to live a life safely in the corner? Maybe. Driving away from being alone? Hm. As if he could be driving away from the ache in his bones and towards Az—well. He wasn’t, at any rate. Crowley cursed himself under his breath and pulled over.

The sun was setting, colors bleeding out into the sky. Bleeding out. Now that was something that Crowley was familiar with. He looked up at it all, trying in vain to see anything—any sign from the Universe, from God, anything at all—but no. His knees hit the dirt. “God…what’re you doing to me? You listening? This part of your Great Plan, too?”

Nothing. Crowley dug his nails into his palms until he drew blood.

They do say that snakes can’t cry.

Well.

They also say snakes don’t fall in love. That they can’t feel it.

But just look at Crowley.

🌟

Aziraphale hurried through the empty space of Heaven, a harried look on his face. He had been working nonstop ever since he returned, trying to prove his worth, trying to do good, trying to be good. But there were stares pricking the back of his neck. Veiled criticism, judgement. They thought him odd, strange, impure. Tainted from Earth. They don’t want me here, he thought, then quickly shook it away. He had to keep faith. Believe in good in others, and the good of God.

But there’s nobody left to believe in me.

…

Aziraphale blinked. He had been heading towards the higher floors, but his feet had betrayed him. They had led him to the globe. His chest warmed seeing Earth, but there was this terrible, sudden ache in his gut. Aziraphale put a hand to his stomach, breathless for a moment.

Guilt.

Horrible, horrible guilt.

His hands shook. His stomach roiled like there was a nest of snakes, snakes, Crowley, his Crowley, his Crowley that he left behind, the desperation etched into his face as he—

Stop, he told himself. Stop. You can’t. Push it down, push it down, remember? You need to focus on your tasks. You need to forget.

Do you? Part of him whispered.

Quiet, he thought. No thoughts. You must be good.

It would be good, this traitorous part of him whispered. You would be doing a good thing. Checking up on that nice angel, Muriel.

Oh, yes, Muriel. Of course. It would only take a moment to pop in, after all. He wrung his hands, thinking hard and thinking fast. His tasks weren’t too urgent—just some paperwork, a few visits to the superiors; yes, it would be fine. Tickety-boo. Besides, he really needed to make sure the bookshop and Muriel were fine. Nothing else. What else would there be, really? For such a quick visit, especially? Aziraphale was still for a moment—save for his hands, which shook like leaves—and then with one decisive motion he tapped the globe, and felt himself dissolve into light.

🥀

Crowley slumped in his Bentley, cheeks stinging, throat hurting. Queen played over the speakers, but he kept losing track of the song, sliding in and out of white noise. After a few moments, he inhaled sharply and clenched his jaw. He was alright. He was fine. He was a demon. Of course he was alright. In fact, he was so alright, he would go and make sure Muriel hadn’t sold anything. At the bookshop. Because he was alright he was alright he was FINE. He stomped on the gas pedal with a bit more vigor than usual and began to whip through the streets, disregarding anything his mind might mutter to him. Perhaps that—Crowley ignoring himself as much as he possibly could—perhaps that was why he didn’t notice the feeling of his angel returning to Earth.

…

Crowley slammed the Bentley’s door shut and sauntered across the street to the bookshop, confident as a lioness. The confidence was a sham. He was a right wreck internally. He unlocked the door and swung inside with carefully practiced nonchalance, carefully hidden nerves, everything under the surface, as it should be. But the memories still hit him like a Bentley going 90. Frozen, he could do nothing but boggle at the bookshelves with their alphabetized books all in the right places and the angel wing mug with hot chocolate still steaming, until he heard a cheerful voice from up the stairs, “Be with you in a minute!!”

This managed to jolt Crowley out of his reverie, and he managed to shout back, “It’s me!”

“Oh!! Ah,” and there was quite a bit of shuffling around. Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to take measured breaths. Being back in the same place, the same spot where he—

“Hello, Mr. Crowley!!” Muriel beamed over the banister upstairs before hurrying down the stairs. “Haven’t seen you in a bit!”

Crowley hummed noncommittally. Muriel fidgeted.

“Did you need anything, Mr. Crowley?” They asked, looking at him a little too expectantly. Crowley had a sudden memory of that kid he had encountered as Bilidad, the little one who wanted to be a lizard.

��Erm…”

It wasn’t to check on the books, really. What did Crowley need?

Well.

Wasn’t it obvious?

He needed him.

His angel. His Az—hm.

His A—guh.

His A…He needed Aziraphale.

There, he said it. Wasn’t so hard.

He needed his somebody to love.

But his somebody was gone.

He didn’t say any of this to Muriel, though. Instead, he just shrugged. “Thought I’d stop by, make sure you hadn’t sold anything.”

Muriel shook their head vehemently. “Oh, no, certainly not!! I remember what you were like when I first took over the shop,,” they took on a grumpy, spiky air then, ignoring the dinging of the shop bell, “Now listen here, Muriel, if you sell any one of these books, I will march right up to heaven and tell those higher-ups that you are doing Very, Very Bad Things. So do not, under any circumstances, sell these books!!” Muriel finished their impression attempting a scowl matching Crowley’s, cementing their inability to make any sort of coarse expression.

Crowley scoffed and was about to complain that he did NOT sound like that, not in the slightest, when—

“Oh, Crowley, did you really?”

Fireworks rocketed up Crowley’s spine and exploded in his chest, and he whipped around to see—

To see—

His angel.

Aziraphale standing in the doorway of the shop, looking like he was already regretting even stepping through the door, but still with that nervous, gentle smile Crowley loved so, and he could do nothing but gape at Aziraphale, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Aziraphale didn’t fare much better, only just managing to stand there, wobbly and woeful. Muriel, slowly becoming more adept at social situations, sidled into the back room, and the sound of the door shutting snapped Crowley out of his stupor—and his wounded heart throbbed.

“Back to forgive me again, then?” Spat Crowley bitterly.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed, teary-eyed, and before Crowley could say anything else, Aziraphale rushed into him, grabbing his lapels and burying his face in Crowley’s chest.

“I mi-i-issed-d you,” He sobbed, and Crowley wanted to shove him away, wanted to snarl barbed words and sharp jabs, wanted try and make him feel some semblance of the pain he felt—

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt his angel, when he was already so awfully distraught. So he put a tentative, shaky hand on Aziraphale’s back, and said, quietly, “Hi, Angel.”

Aziraphale sniffed loudly at that and looked up at him. Then he stepped back, only slightly, and they simply looked at each other for a moment. Then—

“Why did you leave—?!” They started, simultaneously, then stopped.

“Well, you were the one leaving, Angel,” Crowley snapped, brows knitted together.

Aziraphale looked at him quizzically and sniffed again. “B-But I asked you to come with me, dear. I wanted you to come with me. I wanted you to come so terribly,” his lip wobbled, “And-and then you got mad, and ki-kissed me, and then—hic—and then you left!”

Crowley scowled, confused. He was quite certain that Aziraphale had been the one to do the leaving.

“But you abandoned me,” he said, voice rough, “After all we’ve gone through! I thought we were a team, Aziraphale. I thought you liked me how I was—not an angel, not a demon, as me.”

Aziraphale whimpered, wringing his hands. “But I do like you, Crowley! I’m so, so s-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I promise, I just—I want to be with you, oh so much! And we could be together, in Heaven, as angels, without messiness, and—and, oh, I thought you’d be happier as an angel. I mean, you used to be, when you were…”

Crowley sighed, his anger beginning to cool. Oh, Angel. “I don’t want Heaven. I don’t want to be who I was. I just want to be me, now, here, with you,” He said, as gently as he could muster, taking his sunglasses off. Aziraphale blinked, another sparkling tear trailing down his cheek. Crowley had to curb the urge to wipe it away by shoving his hands in his pockets.

“B-But…but an angel? A-a demon?? That—”

“Would be alright.” Crowley finished, trying to smile, trying not to hope. “We could do it.” Aziraphale wavered, unsure, worried. He cast a look around him, and then, resolutely,

“I need to go back.” Crowley’s heart plummeted to the floor and shattered like an empty bottle. Again.

He made to leave, eyes already stinging, but Aziraphale grabbed at him. “Wait, Crowley!!” But no. Not again. Never again. Crowley wrenched away, looking at the ground, trying to stride past him, a painful crescendo rising in his head, already berating himself for trusting so quickly, hoping so easily, and then, and then he felt a soft hand tilt his face up and take off his glasses and, and, and—and Aziraphale was kissing him. Kissing him. Crowley’s thoughts blinked out of existence completely. All he could focus on was Aziraphale, him against Crowley’s lips, again, finally. Aziraphale’s tears wet Crowley’s cheeks and burned there and Crowley didn’t mind in the slightest. And he kissed back, fiercely, not caring if the rest of him burned up as a result.

Aziraphale gasped at the kiss deepening, and something roared deep inside of Crowley, and then, suddenly—Aziraphale pulled away.

It was as if Crowley had been lit on fire and then doused with cold water, and all he could do was stand there, shivering and overheating at the same time. Aziraphale, though shaking as well, took a deep breath.

“Crowley. I am going, but I’m not leaving,” and he took Crowley’s face in both hands, “I’m not leaving you. I never meant to in the first place. I’m sorry. Please…forgive me.”

Crowley didn’t know how to respond. What could he possibly say? What could he—

A tear slid down his face, and Aziraphale brushed it away with his thumb, tenderly, lovingly.

And Crowley broke.

“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale murmured, and cradled Crowley close as he crumpled into his arms. He trembled like a leaf, loud sobs wracking his body.

They sank to the ground together, and stayed that way for a long time.

Eventually, Crowley could breathe without feeling like he was suffocating. Cheeks burning, he slowly sat up, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale, embarrassed. “Ngk—sorry, Angel.”

“My dear boy,” Aziraphale turned his face back to him with a feather-light touch, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Crowley damn near started crying again. He nodded and sniffed, rubbing his face. “You’re too nice to me.”

Aziraphale smiled at him, eyes twinkling. “Nice is a four-letter word.”

They gazed at each other adoringly, neither quite believing that they could hope again, hope for a future together, as hope was a four-letter word, too. Then Crowley looked down at the ground. “So…you have to go.”

“I will be back, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, and stood up, “I just need to do a few things first.”

“I need you,” Crowley pleaded, on his knees, all defenses forgotten, all barriers down. “Stay. Please.”

“I need you too,” Aziraphale said softly, doe-eyed, and kissed him on the forehead. “I want to stay with you. But I have to keep Earth safe. I can change things, in Heaven. I can stop the Second Coming.”

His face hardened and, for a moment, looked every bit the Archangel he was supposed to be. “Even if it means making a few…executive decisions. In the name of good, of course.”

“Of course,” Crowley echoed, feeling a bit dazed.

Aziraphale smiled at him and then looked up, wings materializing behind him. “I’ll see you soon, dear.”

Crowley, as if struck by a pin, sprung up towards Aziraphale and kissed him once more. Aziraphale, who had already begun to glow with departure, kissed back just as hard, if not harder. Crowley held onto the quickly dissipating angel tightly, as long as he could, until Aziraphale fully disappeared…and then Crowley fell flat on his face.

Oh, would you look at that, Crowley mused to himself, ass up, face down. I’ve fallen. “Erm,” said a timid voice behind him, “Would you like some hot chocolate, Mr. Crowley?”

thank you for reading!!!!!!!

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years

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CHILDISH

A/N: this turned out less halloween-y than i planned, but i think its still cute hehe

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

SUMMARY: It was supposed to be a perfect, cozy fall weekend. Right until you doubt whether you're the perfect fit for your older, successful boyfriend.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There’s a pep in your steps as you walk out of the elevator on the top floor of Harry’s office building, carrying the lunch you made him and you’re dropping off for him now. You’re excited for tonight and this weekend, because it’s gonna be the perfect fall weekend. You’re having a cozy movie night tonight, watching Nightmare Before Christmas and Coco while eating caramel apples and popcorn, drinking hot chocolate and tomorrow you’re going to the pumpkin patch to pick out pumpkins that you’ll carve later in the afternoon. It’s literally what every girl dreams of at the end of October and Harry is a partner in all of it even though you would have never guessed he’s the kind of man to do these things when you first met him years ago.

You know your way around the office well by now so when the two assistants sitting behind their desk spot you, none of them question who you are.

“Mr. Styles is in a meeting,” Riley says as you approach them.

“I know. I’m just dropping this off for him. Can you give it to him when he’s done? I made him lunch,” you smile bashfully as you set the bag with the containers in it onto the desk. You even put a cute little sticky note on top.

Can’t wait for tonight, hurry home to me! Bone appetite! Love you! Xx

You love the pun and you know Harry will too.

“Of course,” Riley nods with a smile.

“Alright. Thank you, have a nice day,” you smile back as you turn around and head back towards the elevator. You sink your hands into the deep pockets of your wool coat and wind the candy you showed in there, wanting to give it to Harry too, so you start walking back to the assistant, but before you could turn the corner you hear them talking.

“I know! This is so silly,” Riley laughs.

“Silly? More like ridiculous. Her boyfriend is the CEO and she is bringing him lunch with sticky notes,” the other assistant, Tina snorts.

“I never understood how he could date a woman like her. No, not even woman, she is a girl.”

“Have you seen her in that oversized jumper?”

“The rainbow colored one?”

“Yes! It’s hideous! I wouldn’t even dress my toddler in it. Harry is a billionaire, I don’t know how he puts up with her childishness.”

You chew on your bottom lip so harshly, it almost starts bleeding. Their words hurt and turning around you rush back to the elevator so you can leave as fast as possible.

It sends you down a spiral. Are you really that childish? You always knew Harry and you come from different worlds, but you thought they clash perfectly. He is a CEO, insanely successful, lives in a penthouse and is thirty-six years old while you just turned twenty-six. You were an art teacher until you switched, so now you design book covers, but you still teach a few classes in a private school, because you like the kids so much. You lived in a one bedroom apartment before moving in with Harry, which was the size of the bedroom you now share with him. You don’t wear designer clothes, you love thrift shopping and you tend to DIY anything and everything.

As you arrive back home, walking into the penthouse you take a look around. You still remember how it looked when you moved in two years ago, very clean and modern, like the cover of an architecture magazine. But now you see your own touch everywhere.

Colorful candles spattered on every possible surface, chunky blankets covering the grey couch along with a bunch of pillows, you’ve put up fall decoration here and there, making the place cozier and more like home instead of leaving it so sterile. Harry never said he finds your things childish, not even your extreme amount of funky mugs or your plants, all in different pots or random art you hung at every possible empty spot in the place. They are far from his taste, but these little things make the penthouse homey.

Or at least they did until now.

As you look around you only see how childish and ridiculous all this stuff looks in the expensive penthouse that was once Harry’s modern home. What if he hates all of them? If he finds them hideous, but he just doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

He is a decade older than you, a serious businessman and you’re making him watch Coco tonight and you have plans to go to a pumpkin patch tomorrow. How could you think these were the things he wanted to do?

“Your girlfriend dropped this off for you, Sir.” Riley places the bag on Harry’s desk when he returns into his office and he would have known it was from you even if she didn’t tell him. It’s in that bag with the polka dots all over that you love to use so much. It brings a smile to his lips and then he finds the sticky note. His smile grows from ear to ear.

“Thank you. I’ll be leaving early tonight, I have plans. You guys can leave around three too, if you want,” he tells her to which she nods before striding out of the room.

He can’t wait to spend the evening with you, curled up on the couch, watching the movies you chose. There’s nothing he would rather be doing on a Friday evening.

Wanting to get home as soon as possible, he really does leave early, texting you on his way home. You usually text him right back with a bunch of emojis, but this time you just send a simple okay and it concerns him. Something happened. He knows it.

“Babe! I’m home!” he calls out upon walking into the penthouse, looking for you and he notices that something is off right away.

Most of the candles are gone. And there’s only one blanket left on the couch. The pillows? Gone too.

“Y/N?” he calls out again and that’s when you walk out of the bedroom, dressed in a simple black dress. It looks great on you, but he knows you wouldn’t wear it, not at least without a fun jacket or mismatched jewelry.

“Hey!” you attempt to smile at him as you kiss him on the lips shortly.

“You’re so dressed up,” he hums.

“Yeah, um… I thought that maybe we could ditch the movie night and go out for dinner. I reserved a table at that sushi restaurant you like.”

“You want to ditch movie night? But I thought… what about Coco? It’s your favorite!”

“I’ve seen it a million times already,” you shrug. “And for tomorrow, maybe we could go to the spa and—“

“Alright, wait, slow down,” he cuts you off. “Sushi instead of movie night? Spa instead of pumpkin patch? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you play innocent, but he can see right through you.

“Don’t lie to me. Something surely happened and I don’t like what it did to you. You’re not… you’re not yourself. And where are the candles and blankets?”

“Y-You noticed them? I was just… I cleaned up a bit…”

“No, you didn’t clean, you put away most of your stuff, it almost looks like it was before.”

“Because…! They didn’t belong here, it’s better this way. Don’t you think?” you sigh, moving away from him to keep yourself together, but he pulls you back and taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, he makes you look at him.

“Baby, talk to me. What happened?” Your lips wobble as you shake your head, but you know he won’t leave you alone until you tell him. “Tell me what happened, I don’t like seeing you sad,” he softly pleads.

“I’m childish,” you say in a whisper.

“What?”

“I’m… ridiculous and childish. You should… You should be dating someone more mature.”

“Where is this all coming from?” he asks in disbelief. You’re hesitant to answer, but you can’t hold it back any longer.

“I dropped your lunch off today and I heard the assistants talk about me. They said that I’m childish and basically we’re not compatible. And… Maybe they are right.”

“No, they are not!” he answers straight away.

“Have you looked around? I moved in and brought all this… random stuff and messed up your modern and expensive home.”

“No, you made it into our home. I loved every little thing you brought with you!”

“You did?”

“Of course! This place didn’t even feel like home until you moved in. You brought so much light and joy, I love the blankets and pillows, all the candles and anything that reminds me of you.”

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. You’re in awe and most importantly, in love.

“And they make the place homey, but you make it my home. You’re my home, Y/N.”

“I’m gonna cry,” you announce as the first tears roll down your cheeks. Harry just chuckles and kisses your forehead before pulling your head to his chest.

“Let’s find those blankets and candles, change into some comfortable clothes and get a head start on that movie night, hm?”

“Okay,” you nod after a hiccup. Taking your face in his hands he wipes your cheeks before kissing you softly on the lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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soloorganaas · 1 year

Text

A canonical list of times Remus told Sirius to sit and Sirius said I’m sat

Then Lupin spoke in an odd voice, a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. “Where is he, Sirius?” Black’s face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn’t move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron.

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black’s weight fell on his broken leg. “Sirius, NO!” Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again.

“And Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!” Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron’s bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands. “All right, then,” Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. “Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for. . . .”

Lupin was struggling against his bonds. Black bent down quickly and untied him.

“How did you find out where he was?” Black put one of his clawlike hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others […] “How did you get this?” Lupin asked Black, thunderstruck. “Fudge,” said Black.

[Sirius’s] voice broke. He turned away. “Enough of this,” said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice Harry had never heard before.

“Ready, Sirius?” said Lupin. Black had already retrieved Snape’s wand from the bed. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face. “Together?” he said quietly. “I think so,” said Lupin, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other.

Black’s wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.

“Now he’s going to kill me too. . . . You’ve got to help me, Remus. . . .” Black’s face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes. “No one’s going to try and kill you until we’ve sorted a few things out,” said Lupin.

Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

Sirius started to rise from his chair. “Molly, you’re not the only person at this table who cares about Harry,” said Lupin sharply. “Sirius, sit down.” Mrs. Weasley’s lower lip was trembling. Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white.

“There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you . . . I think Molly’s right, Sirius. We’ve said enough.” Sirius half-shrugged but did not argue.

“I’m coming up there to have a word with Snape!” said Sirius forcefully and he actually made to stand up, but Lupin wrenched him back down again. “If anyone’s going to tell Snape it will be me!” he said firmly.

#from the bottom bottom bottom to the top #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #otp: i’m mental about you #hp

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artytaeh · 2 months

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listen. i am slighlty obsessed with mamma mia— which means i adore abba's songs. so just yesterday i decided to listen to the songs from the movie.

and, because i'm in a huge harry potter brain rot, guess what: amanda seyfried and dominic cooper's duets could so easily be you, reader, and the weasley twins singing with you, because they know just how much you love listening to abba.

· · · · · ·

so yes, to the point where you, fred and george know every single line. and on karaoke nights? the twins know by heart when it's their turn to sing.

i feel like fred is the most enthusiastic about it. lay all your love on me gets more tension between you, staring into each other's eyes, feeling every line:

no, fred wasn't a jealous man at all when he met you! but yes, every man fred sees now is a potential threat, trying to take you away from him — usually, he lifts you up on his arms, looking around with a serious look, as if to watch out of his best-friend-slash-love-of-his-life thieves.

george is possessive! which isn't nice. he uses his fingers to pretend that he was holding a cigarette, blowing air like a smoker would, because now he has another obsession, a bigger vice: you!

now all of this isn't true. now everything is you— and this is when both twins make their way to you, crowding, surrounding you, leaving nowhere to run.

all that the cheeky twins have learned as overturn: so they beg of you, george kneeling on the floor, fred pointing at his bleeding heart, making you laugh everytime.

you get to sing the other part of the song freely, with even more enthusiasm as them, knowing every low and high of the song, and the twins can't help but smile everytime you are this happy.

on the chorus, though? the three of you are screaming, yelling your lungs out.

unironically, i feel like at least one of the twins finds out they're in love with you here. fred, probably because he feels the song too strongly, feeling selfish of you, wishing all of your love to be layed on him— george, on the other hand, realizes how insanely in love he is for you. how (healthily. he hopes.) obsessed he is for you, and all of the moments you spend together.

however, one of us gets a playful yet theatrical vibe, exchanging smiles and dramatic expressions, as if you and them really had just argued. as if you're a couple on the verge of breaking up, as if you were rotting on bed, wishing to be on george's arms or listening to fred's schemes— at the burrow, a place that feels like a second home to you, because it's where fred and george are on their most domestic displays.

once the music starts, the three of you get a neck ache, snapping your heads to stare at each other, grabbing any cylindrical object to be your microphone.

you have enough seconds to change your goofy, enthusiastic smiles into sorrowful expressions, frowning as if this was a painful truth to be sang.

you sing. you point at them, accusing them of breaking your heart— everytime, george looks at you, offended that you think he'd do such a thing! fred, on the other hand, nods as if he was accepting his fault.

they sing together the lyrics, fred finishing with ''waiting for a call...'', looking at you a little too lovingly— secretly, fred hexed a box with all of your letters, which he reads during vacations and holidays that you're far from him, dearly missed by him. every morning does fred weasley wake up in hopes that mixed with arthur's work letters, harry's letters to ron and ginny's friends giftcards, there's something written by you to him.

they sing together a few more words, because this time, it's george who finishes the chorus by himself: ''wishing he had never left at all...''; a feeling he remembers all too well, every single time he has to leave your company to go to his own classes, classes that you don't share due to belonging to different houses. that little heartache, of seeing you turn your back and leave, after waving him goodbye— you live in different houses, sometimes too far for him to chase your company in the middle of the night, or to straight up tell you something stupid he just remembered.

deep down, everytime this song is so passionately sang by the three of you, the twins wish to never get to feel exactly as the song proposes. the feeling of things getting so bad, that one of you has to leave.

being the most patient and more of the "good" twin of the duo, george is hopeful that being on no-speaking-terms wouldn't happen, and if it did, only lasts a few hours. george is hoping that you and him are such a good match, a match made in heaven and hell, never fight this hard.

however fred, the "bad", 10% more devilish of the duo, fears that his impulsive words might hurt you so much one day, that he'll be laying on his bed and wishing to be with you instead, knowing he messed up.

at first, the twins frowned at your music taste. sometimes abba's songs are frequent on dorms' parties, fred too focused on dancing and jumping amongst the other students' enthusiasm. george, however, is a little more observant of the others' fun, watching his friends dance and other boys trying to make a move on the girls they fancy— which means, watching is baby brother ron trying to get a dance with hermione.

it gets them a little effort to like abba as much as you do. george is the first to learn the lyrics, making an effort for you and to sing a long on car drives. fred struggles at first, but gets surprised when his voice naturally sings along.

when did he learn the full song? the full album, even? he accuses you of bewitching him.

( truthfully, fred becomes a bit of a bigger fan of abba than george, now that he gets to dramatically and theatrically sing the songs with you. )

· · · · · ·

pretending that you're a little younger and flirting with him on does your mother know?, or you singing it out of spite when the twins mess up, when you just know that they will, sooner than later, listen to molly weasley's wrath for what they did.

all brotherly and stupidly supportive, being the one who remembers to sing chiquitita of all songs, fred starts the famous ''chiquitita tell me what's wrong...'' when you're sad about a low grade or crying— yes, this makes george wheeze his voice out everytime even though he tries so much to take your problems seriously.

waterloo is a song you feel... personally. because everytime you are defeated— fred and george won the war: convincing you to join their schemes, silly pranks, and future plans. the history book on the shelf is always repeating itself: you, fred and george at the crime scene once again. you promise to love fred and george forevermore— fred teases that you couldn't escape even if you wanted to (mf is tall, has long legs and is capable of running FAST after you); george, on the other hand, assures that he knows, fred knows, you know that your fate is to be with them.

going to detention, fred opens his arms to you, and soon george gets what his (slightly) older twin is about to scream: "can't you hear me? SOS!"; when you're gone, though they try, how can they carry on? detention is a little more bearable when you're caught red-handed with them, and so, you, fred and george have a date later at evening, to clean the great hall or other part of hogwarts. "and the love you gave me, nothing else can save me, SOS!" is a lyric you know all too well, because if you decide to be a little more sarcastic, slightly cold to them, george wraps your shoulders with his arm and tilts his head to look at you and sing it to you, meanwhile, fred shows up in front of you with a forearm on his forehead. a true damsel in distress, now that he sees the little sassy monster he and george created.

super trouper is a core memory to you, the twins, and dear ginny weasley, once again crying because of her first unrequited love on harry potter. something only you know, because you and ginny wouldn't want poor harry to suffer too much with fred and george's pranks. this time, each of your hands pull one twin to the side, then you point at ginny, who's a little more calm after crying her eyes out, and sing the first part of the song. fred thinks it's a good idea, honestly, since you always laugh at chiquitita, and for a second george seems to regret this friendship. because, are you serious? but then, when ginny smiles and accepts your invitation to join the spectacle, george decides that super trouper is a favorite of his— specially because he and fred know that somewhere in the crowd, you'll be there. and they'll be there when you arrive. always. forever, if fate allows them.

on valentine's day, george is the one to start this whole abba epidemy you're having. take a chance on me starts shyly with george, because you haven't received any letters or chocolates despite your popularity (which is cough more of fred and george's fault cough after effective threats on any funny little guy who fancies you). fred laughs incredulously, because as bad with seriously sweet words as he is, he doesn't believe that is identical twin is starting this conversation with an abba song. but of fucking course. and if you're wondering, yes, it did work. you took a chance on them.

voulez-vous is sang by you, the twins, and everyone else at the hufflepuff's party, when the team wins against slytherin. it's then that fred, if he wasn't an official fan of abba, admits that you have a good taste— because it's easily one of the funniest and enjoyful moments of the party: if there were students outside the dance floor, with voulez-vous, everyone is standing up and crowding hufflepuff's common room. layers of circles of students move to the left, the layer behind to the right, and so on. the whole time you're singing to fred and george, and when it's time to your students' circle to move again, fred gets on your left so george stands on your right, making sure that the enthusiasm of other students don't push you to the ground, or hurt you unintentionally. even when they're having the most fun, fred makes sure you're in the middle of them— for the first time, being the slightest responsible twin.

and yet, when you're being the kindest soul to help the weasley twins decorating their shop, money money money is the mandatory song to attract good business, good luck, and good clients for them. it'll be a rich man's (men) world indeed, when weasley's wizard wheezes starts getting so famous, that fred and george promptly have a jar of savings— money to be spent with you, on you, for you. to spoil their best-friend-slash-love-of-their-lives.

· · · · · ·

should i make a series?

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merrybloomwrites · 1 month

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You Can Start a Family (Extra: First Earthquake)

Summary: Y/N experiences an earthquake for the first time. She and Harry have a bizarre serendipitous moment.

AN: I felt an earthquake for the first time yesterday and it inspired me to finally write this silly story that's been in my mind for nearly a year.

Previous Chapters:

Main Story: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

Sickfic Part 1 ; Part 2

Mitchrry Prequel

Fan Reactions

Holiday Blues

Mitchryy Reunion

Getting High

Word Count: 1.1K

CW: earthquake, injury, blood, vomit

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you moved to Los Angeles to live full time with Harry, Mitch, and Sarah, you had a million questions. One thing you were almost embarrassed to ask about was earthquakes. Luckily, none of them laughed about your concern. They’d all experienced a few themselves. While most were small, they can each remember at least once or twice that they’d been genuinely worried during a fairly large quake.

So, they listened to your worries, told you what to expect, and shared what they’ve been told to do in order to stay safe.

A few months in, there’s a mild earthquake. The doors rattle, the mirrors and art on the wall shake, but no damage is done, and it only lasts a few seconds. You report to your friends back home that you finally experienced one.

But now is the first time you truly get shaken around. Harry, Mitch, and Sarah are all in the basement studio working together on new music. You’re upstairs in your little home office answering some emails.

You’re sitting at your desk in the corner of the room when everything starts to rattle. It’s small at first, but quickly you know this is much bigger than last time. Immediately you think of what you’ve been told to do in this situation.

The number one piece of advice you remember is to get under a desk or table. Your glass desk, however, doesn’t seem like the best choice.

There’s a sturdy coffee table in the middle of the room and you start to make your way over to it, stumbling due to the floor shaking beneath you. Suddenly, something slams into the back of your head, but adrenaline keeps you moving forward. You finally dive under the table and ride out the end of the earthquake.

Moments after the shaking subsides, you hear three sets of footsteps running up the stairs. Mitch bursts into the room first, Sarah and Harry right behind him.

“Love, are you okay?” Sarah asks as she helps you out from under the table.

“Yea, I just think something hit my head,” you reply and glance around the room. On the floor is a large decorative vase that normally stands in a recessed shelf on the wall. You point to it and say, “That. I’m fairly certain that hit the back of my head.”

“Let me see,” Harry says, his hand going to your hair. You hiss in pain, and he pulls back. “Shit,” he quietly breathes out, and you all look at him. His fingertips are red and wet. Blood. Shit is right. You’re definitely bleeding.

“How do you feel?” Sarah asks.

The adrenaline is wearing off, and that, mixed with seeing physical evidence that you’re injured, has the pain finally setting in.

“My head’s starting to hurt,” you reply. “And I feel a little bit dizzy.”

“You need to go to the hospital,” Mitch says. “C’mon, I’ll drive.”

Harry helps you stay steady all the way out to the car. You assure everyone you’re fine, it’s just a scratch and a headache, but the three of them don’t listen. They rush out of the house, stopping only to grab shoes and a towel to hold over the wound. Mitch drives, Sarah is in the passenger seat, and Harry is in the back next to you, keeping pressure on the cut.

On the drive over you start to feel nauseous. It’s manageable at first, but steadily gets worse. There’s nothing in the car to be sick into, and you ask Mitch to pull over. You guys are literally on the freeway, and you can tell Mitch isn’t comfortable with stopping there, but then he sees the panic on your face and does as you’ve asked. He finds a safe spot and pulls onto the shoulder.

The second the car is in park you open your door and lean out, throwing up on the side of the road. It’s not a fun feeling, but you do feel a bit better once you’re done. You get back in the car and roll the windows down, hoping fresh air will help.

Just before driving off, you look out the window, and something you see just ahead has you laughing.

“What’s happening right now, why are you laughing?” Sarah asks. You look at the concerned faces of your girlfriend and boyfriends and say, “Please look at where we are right now,” while you continue to laugh.

You can tell when they all see it. Because they join in laughing. Just ahead is an iconic sign stating, “Harry Styles threw up here”.

“What are the fucking odds of that?” Mitch says in disbelief.

“Someday, someone’s going to ask us how me and Harry knew we were right for each other,” you say. “And I am absolutely going to tell this story. Because obviously we’re soul mates if we’ve both randomly thrown up on the exact same stretch of LA freeway.”

“Damn straight we are,” he says with a laugh. “But your head is still bleeding a bit so let’s get moving again.”

Mitch and Sarah immediately shift back into worried mode along with Harry, and you hold back a giggle at how protective they always are over you. Even if you feel they’re sometimes a bit too much, truthfully you love how well they take care of you.

Sarah goes into the hospital with you, hoping you’ll stay more under the radar than if Harry was inside. It’s pretty crazy in the emergency department, the earthquake causing a good number of minor injuries, but they move as efficiently as possible.

Sarah holds your hand as they use glue and your own hair to close the small laceration on your head. You’re fascinated to learn that there’s a technique to close head wounds using a patient’s own hair as sutures. But if the squeamish look on Sarah’s face is anything to go by, she doesn’t share this thought. Luckily you don’t have a concussion, and the dizziness and nausea were just from losing blood.

You’re relieved to finally get back home. It’s unsurprising that Harry, Sarah, and Mitch all dote on you for the remainder of the day.

Nearly a year and a half later another earthquake hits. This time all four of you are in the dining room, and you barely have a moment to process what’s happening before arms wrap around you and pull you under the table. Mitch holds you tight, Harry doing the same to Sarah next to you, and you make it out of this one with no injuries.

A couple weeks after that you do a podcast with Harry. Sure enough, the woman hosting asks about when you two knew you were meant to be. Harry sees your smirk and begins to laugh before you even start the story of your first earthquake experience.

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AN: Thanks for reading! Hope the science about earthquakes and hair apposition technique is right lol

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp

#harry styles x reader #mitch rowland x harry styles #mitch rowland x reader #mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you

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myloveismuichiro · 11 months

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Why The Creepypastas Are Afraid Of Y/n ! PT. II

Characters: Ticci Toby, Jason The Toymaker, X Virus, Homicidal Liu !

a/n; Konnichiwa! Feel free to message me requests or stuff! Jaane! ⁠♡

Ticci Toby ⁠♡ • He went into your room to ask for something, and you gladly let him borrow it. • But when he went to get it from your drawer (because you're lazy af), he accidentally knocked down the flower vase, and it shattered into pieces. • Now, it wasn't the flower vase breaking the thing that made you angry, but it was the fact that a broken shards got into your bed and you sat up on it. • You two just stared at each other, and it started to get really awkward. • Then, you started seeing red, grabbed several broken shards of glass from the floor, and started aiming them at his head. • The poor bby got hit on the forehead when he tried to run out of the room, and became Harry Potter, but with a lot more blood (Ily if you get it).

Jason The Toymaker ♡ • You two were arguing about a previous mission that was failed, and he was blaming you for it. • Then, he suddenly started hitting you with wooden scraps that he kept on himself (just in case). • You were just ignoring him, when suddenly one of the wooden scrapes stabbed your eye, and it started bleeding. • While covering your eye, you turned slowly towards him (for dramatic effect). But surprisingly, you just marched up to your room without saying a word. • He was relieved, until later that evening after dinner. He went downstairs to his room/workshop, and was shocked to see all of his creations either shredded, torn apart, or burned. • He heard a faint chuckle from up the stairs, and he looked up to see you standing there menacingly. • "Don't even try to attack me." You said, glaring daggers at him while smiling devilishly.

X - Virus ♡ • He was snooping around in your room, for God knows why, while you were out on a mission. • He found your pet hamster, and suddenly had an idea. He brought it down into the basement/his room, and injected some type of poison into it's back. He sneakily went back up into your room and placed the hamster back, acting like nothing happened. • When you came back from your mission, you immediately ran up to your room to feed your hamster. But when you got up there, you started screaming. • Your hamster was still in it's cage, yes, but it was laying upsidedown and frothing at the mouth. • You immediately knew who did it, and started marching down to his room. • "CODY!!!!" You screeched, and barged into his room while he was changing. • You grabbed one of his graduated cylinders, smashed it, and started to throw the shards of glass at his naked upper torso. • Thank God he had sweat pants on. • Let's just say that he wasn't able to go on missions for a long while.

Homicidal Liu ⁠♡ • You and Jeff were having a staring contest, which was really ridiculous since the man had no eyelids, but you were really bored so eh. • Anyways, while you were losing (terribly), Liu accidentally suddenly threw a piece of cake into your face. • Jeff started laughing, and you glared at Liu for a moment. At first, he thought he was safe, since you were normally a very forgiving person, but you were in a bad mood. • You grabbed your weapon and started chasing him around the house, yelling hurtful words at him as you did so. • Thank God that you easily cool off when you get mad, and, realizing what you had just done, apologized profusely to your terrified lover. • "Gommenasai, Hani!" You said over and over again, bowing to your trembling boyfriend. • I mean, who wouldn't be scared after being chased by someone for several hours? We're only human ¯⁠\⁠_⁠༼⁠ ⁠•́⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠•̀⁠ ⁠༽⁠_⁠/⁠¯

a/n; That's all! Aishitemasu! Sayonara! Want a PT. III? ♡

#ticci toby #creepypasta x you #eyeless jack #jeff the killer #jason the toymaker #x virus #homicidal liu #half japanese #homicidal liu x reader #incorrect quotes #creepypasta incorrect quotes #creepypasta headcanon

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strangesthirdeye · 3 months

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In The Afterlife (Severus Snape x Dead! Reader)

Summary: He welcomed his death like an old friend

Warning: It's Severus Snape, we love him. Heavy angst, he's dead, afterlife, death mentioned, blood, murder, Deathly Hallow part II, reader already dead, love, Peace

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Severus is shaking as all his breath has been taken little by little, the pain is starting to sting and blood is pouring out of his neck. This is it, he's going to die leaving the wizardry world behind. Free from this heavy duty.

Severus let out a shaky breath and looked at Harry who was kneeling beside him while his hands stopped the bleeding on his neck.

"Look ... at ... me. ...” he whispered.

Harry stared at Severus solemnly.

"You have your mother's eyes" he whispered lowly but enough for Harry to hear what Severus said.

Harry was stunned and stared at Severus in shock. His mouth opened unexpectedly at what his old professor said. Now he feels guilty after all these years he hates Severus, how he accused Severus of being a traitor and everything.

The green eyes found the black, but after a second, something in the depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank, and empty. The hand holding Harry thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no more.

Harry leaned backwards and stared at the unalive eyes in front of him. Empty. No life in it. And he gave his condolences to Severus one last time before he and his friend left the boathouse.

Severus' dead body gradually turned pale as more blood and life came out of him. He didn't protest nor did he get angry but he let it go because he knew there was someone waiting for him on the other side.

"Severus" a feminine voice called him.

Severus opened his eyes slowly as a blinding white light shone in front of him. He groaned in pain and adjusted his eyes to match his surroundings. After a couple of blinking, he opened his eyes without any pain in his retina.

"Severus" a feminine voice called him again.

Severus looked around for the source of the voice and stopped when his attention was caught by a woman dressed in a simple white dress. You.

He was stunned and lost for words. It's been a long time since he met you after you died the same year as Lily Potter. You are still beautiful just like you are still alive only you look more mature just like him. He stiffened there. You always impressed him with various things, and that's made his heart skip a few beats when he was in school.

He didn't say anything about that. He tends to keep that to himself. He is afraid to admit that he has feelings for you. He is afraid that he will be rejected and insulted by you because who wants to be with Snivelius? Who in the right mindset wants to be with him? No one. That's why he kept it to himself.

"Severus" you called him again with that sweet smile that Severus adored.

He snapped out of his reverie and slowly approached you. He noticed that he was still wearing his black robe, only it looked clean and there were no traces of blood or dirt. He unconsciously reached out to his broken neck only to find that there was no blood or a big slit on his neck. He's clean and feels more alive than before. Severus' attention returned to you, and he finally got in front of you.

You looked upon his face with a gentle smile before reaching out to palmed his cheeks. "Hello, Sev"

Severus breath hitched in his throat when he heard your voice that he hadn't heard in a long time. His eyes tear up with tears as he leans his forehead against you and savoring your warmth that he misses.

He raised his hand and caressed your cheek with his thumb as he closed his eyes.

"Y/n...I'm sorry" Severus whispered somberly.

You stroked his cheeks and sighed lightly. "It's not your fault. I'm just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all."

"I was in the group that attacked Hogsmade, I didn't know you were there too" he whispered with a face wet with tears.

"it's not your fault, you didn't kill me but another Death Eater is. Besides, it happened a long time ago." you looked at his broken face.

He opened his eyes and backed away a little from your face. His eyes were red and his cheeks were wet and puffed with tears. He caressed your cheek unconsciously.

"I was stupid and young at that time.. I-" new tears started to fall. "I push you away from me even if you only want to help me.. I didn't get a chance to say my feelings to you" he hugged your small frames tightly.

"I know about that, Severus. I.. I also have feelings for you but I don't have the heart to tell you.. I feel so guilty for leaving you in that world while I am free from all problems. Not free from this feeling to you. Everytime I sit here I always think about you, your whereabouts and your safety. I always worry about you." you said in his ear.

Severus kept crying on your shoulder as you rubbed his back gently. Severus was not one to show his emotions to others. He always hides his emotions behind his stoic cold face. But then, he doesn't know why now all his emotions are clearly shown to you.

You sniffed and pulled away from Severus' arms to face his wet face. You smile watery. "now, we are together, nothing can stop us. No more Voldermort, no more Death Eater. Just us."

"just us" Severus muttered and then without a second thought, he leaned his face towards you and kissed you tenderly with a large amount of emotion inside one kiss.

You returned the kissed with more passion and put your hands on his shoulders. As your breath reached its limit, you both pulled away from each other and leaned your forehead against each other. Severus hands already on your waist.

Both of your eyes look at each other's faces with love in both of your eyes. This is it, your new world. And new feelings. Feelings that have been hidden for a long time finally come true at the end.

#severus snape angst #severus snape x you #severus snape x reader #severus snape #alan rickman x reader #alan rickman #harry potter #angst #Spotify

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