It was a Friday night and as had become the norm for the newest LA hotspot, Lux was full. The queue of skimpily clad ladies and suited gentlemen hoping to gain entry curled around the building…but Y/N didn’t bother with that. She walked straight up to the doorman, her suitcase clicking along behind her. The doorman barely glanced up at her, asking for her name as he flicked through the list.
“My name’s not on there,” she purred, her silky smooth voice and exotic accent commanding the bouncer’s full attention, “but I’m pretty sure you’re going to let me in anyway.”
The doorman nodded, almost in a trance, and moved aside to let the woman into the busy nightclub.
The woman had a strange aura to her - as she entered it seemed that the rest of the patrons just kind of made space for her. She cut a striking figure in the crowd, her full skirted, high necked dress contrasting with the array of barely dressed patrons and workers. Mazikeen, from her place behind the bar, noticed the new arrival before her boss - the demon’s genuine smile was what tipped Lucifer off that something was not right. He hadn’t seen her smile like that since they left hell.
As he turned to see what had caused Maze’s gleeful reaction he immediately wished he hadn’t, catching the eye of the woman who had just invaded his sanctuary. He ducked behind the bar as if he had any chance of avoiding the encounter that was coming.
“You might as well stand up Lucifer,” Mazikeen scolded, grabbing the devil by the shoulder and pulling him upright, “she knows you’re here.”
As the woman began to make her way towards the bar Lucifer took a deep breath, turning to grab a bottle of whisky from the shelves behind him. He poured two large glasses, downed both and then refilled them.
“Oh Maze…this will not end well for me,” he muttered, almost to himself.
And then the King of Hell headed over to meet his wife.
Mazikeen laughed, waving someone over to fill in for her on the bar and taking the seat Lucifer had recently vacated.
As the devil and Y/N met the tension in the room was palpable. Lucifer offered one of the whiskys to her and she accepted it silently, taking a long sip. Her steady gaze was fixed on her estranged husband the whole time.
“Good stuff, isn’t it?” Lucifer attempted a smile.
“Passable.”
Lucifer’s face dropped again, realising that the woman in front of him was not going to give him an inch in this confrontation.
“How have you -”
“There are angels crawling around our kingdom. My kingdom. Cerberus and the Erinyes are keeping them at bay as best they can, but it is less than ideal.”
“I know you’re upset love, but -”
“Upset?! Since the day we married I have been forced to spend six months at a time away from you, wishing for your company, missing you, craving you, and I truly believed that you went through the same torment in my absence. My homecoming was always my most joyous moment…until last year, when I returned home to abject chaos, wrought by you on the land that I loved. That we had built together. I have only one question for you…why?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Lucifer’s tone was bitter, his first bite into the argument forming between the two, “you have the freedom to move between here and there. Freedom that I was never given.”
“The choice to leave was made for me; that is not freedom.”
“I just thought if I told you my plans you would try and stop me…and I never could say no to you.”
The fury that flashed across the woman’s face was unearthly, and the temperature in the club dropped low enough that breath misted out of her mouth with her next sentence.
“I am your wife,” she growled, “I literally followed you into hell, why would you think that I wouldn’t follow you out again?”
“I’m sorry,” Lucifer whispered.
The woman shook her head, her face settling into a look of calm again.
“I’ve loved you for centuries, fiercely and totally, and one short human year apart hasn’t changed that. I have six months to spend on this earth, and with your permission, my King, I intend to spend them in your vicinity. I assume there’s a spare room somewhere in this hell on earth that you’ve created for yourself fit for your Queen?”
Her voice lowered deferentially as she addressed him by title, and Lucifer felt a shudder pass through him at the change in tone. It was a visceral reaction he hadn’t had to any other female in his time on earth.
“Of course,” he nodded, plastering a veneer of calm over his face, “some help with your bags?”
“Mmhm,” Y/N nodded, but stopped the devil before he could pick up her suitcase, “Mazikeen, would you?”
“My pleasure,” Maze purred, standing up to grab the case, “it is good to see you again my Queen.”
“It’s good to see you too,” Y/N smiled affectionately at the demon, her first real smile since she arrived at the club, “and might I say, your human form is very impressive…”
The whole room warmed with Y/N’s smile - like the sun coming out on a spring day. Lucifer couldn’t help but bask in the warmth, feeling almost bereaved as Y/N and her smile followed Mazikeen up to the penthouse.
When Maze returned she found her boss back in his seat, head in hands.
“Are you not happy to see your wife?” she asked him.
Lucifer considered the question carefully for a few moments before looking up at the demon.
“You know Maze, eternity in hell was a picnic compared to the penance she is going to make me pay, but despite that…yes. I really am happy to see her.”
Authors Note: This was originally written some time ago for a competition on another blog - I went back to find it recently and as far as I can tell, that blog has now been deleted, which is why I’m reposting now.
Alex had tried his best to be on time for once, he really had, but the universe was conspiring against him.
The proof was all there - rehearsals for their upcoming tour had run on time every other day this week (a miracle in itself when you consider the four overgrown children pretending to be functioning adults who made up the band) but today, when Alex had promised his girlfriend he would be on time, they overran by seventeen minutes. Then he discovered that he’d accidentally left his car lights on all day and now had a flat battery - it took an extra twenty four minutes for Matt Flyzik, tour manager extraordinaire, to jump start the vehicle (and for anyone keeping count, that’s already forty one minutes later than Alex was meant to be). Then there was the traffic on the way home - having to sit still for an extra nineteen minutes on top of his usual journey only served to make Alex extra antsy (sixty whole minutes goddamn it, and he still had to shower & change & most likely spend an unnecessary amount of time explaining to his probably fuming girlfriend why he was so late because tonight was important, didn’t he realise that?!)
Y/N was sat on the sofa when Alex entered the house, already in the dress she had picked out for the night, hair and make-up all done & heels strapped around her feet, staring blankly at the TV…which was turned off. This did not bode well for Alex.
"Hi baby," he smiled, deciding to go for the casual ‘what do you mean I’m late?’ approach.
It didn’t work.
"I just wanted to be on time for once," she growled, glaring up at her boyfriend, "is that really too much to ask?"
"I tried, I really did, but the universe hates me," Alex half explained, not wanting to get into the whole story while they were so short on time, "look, I’ll just grab a quick shower and then we can go. We’ll hardly be late at all!"
"But I wanted to do our announcement while everybody was sober," she pouted.
Alex looked at her in amazement.
"Baby, this is the ATL crew you’re talking about - we would have had to gather everyone up at ten am to catch them all sober!"
His response caught her off guard, but she had known the whole crew for long enough to admit that he was almost definitely correct. A large percentage of their touring family had probably started drinking before lunch.
Alex took her silence as his chance, darting upstairs towards the safety of the bathroom, yelling something about being ‘ten minutes, tops. I swear down babe…’
Y/N didn’t know where he had picked up that stupid phrase, but she made a mental note to tell him never to use it again.
The traditional pre-tour party was, predictably, in full swing when the couple finally got there.
They were greeted warmly by everyone, Alex accepting the first drink that was thrust at him, Y/N refusing all the beverages offered…she knew they had to make their announcement soon, or people would start getting suspicious. She might be slightly more sensible than the male members of the ATL family, but she was not particularly known for turning down alcohol, in any of its forms.
Alex could feel the anxiety radiating off his girlfriend, and if he was honest he was pretty nervous himself, although the burn of alcohol in his throat from the strong drink he’d been handed was going some way to dulling those nerves.
"Shall we get it over with?" he whispered, squeezing her slightly with the arm he had slung over her shoulders.
She nodded, looking for all the world like she might be sick (and honestly, she might be - nausea had kicked in three days prior and was killing her morning, noon and night, despite the misleading title everyone gave the phenomenon).
Alex flashed her what he hoped was a reassuring grin, and then hopped up onto the nearest chair. No going back now.
"Guys, can I have your attention for a second!" he yelled, successfully muting the noise in the room enough that his next sentence only had to be said slightly louder than speaking volume, "um, Y/N and I have a bit of an announcement to make…we uh, we found out a few days ago that Y/N is pregnant. We wanted you lot to be the first to know…"
His final words were drowned out by whoops and cheers from every corner of the room. As Alex got down from his chair and moved to pull his girlfriend into his protective grip again they were bombarded by messages of congratulations from every member of the close knit band and crew.
"Does this mean you won’t be travelling with us this tour?" Greico asked, pulling Y/N away from Alex and into a gentle hug.
"I’m only seven weeks gone right now," she grinned, enjoying the positive attention from everyone, "so I’m still fine to travel. Hopefully my morning sickness calms down before we head out though, because right now it’s kicking my ass."
Y/N stumbled out of the cramped bus bathroom and rested her head on the cool wood of the wall outside it.
"You okay little one?" Jack laughed at her strange actions, but there was a slight edge of concern to his voice.
Y/N forced herself upright and fumbled her way over to the sofa in the front lounge where her skunk haired friend was sat. She slumped down very nearly on top of him, and didn’t bother to correct her position, instead curling tightly into his side.
"You know how much it sucks having a hangover on a tour bus?" she mumbled, hearing him grunt an affirmative as he wrapped an arm around her, "well it’s about a hundred times worse having morning sickness."
"Aww, sorry hun," Jack laughed softly, kissing the top of her head affectionately.
"S’not your fault," she shrugged, "your asshole of a best friend did this to me, not you."
"True! It’s gonna be worth it in seven months when you have your own mini Gaskarth though."
Y/N cracked a smile for the first time that morning, looking up at her friend and resting her chin on his chest so she could keep her face pointed in his direction.
"Do you think it’s going to be a boy or a girl?" she asked, her eyes practically glowing as she thought about the miniature person being formed within her at that moment.
"I don’t know…it’s inside of you, what do you think?"
Y/N was silent for a second, her hand moving to her stomach…although it was as flat as it had always been, it still felt different to her.
"I think it’s a boy," she finally decided, "not that I need more males around me…"
"I was hoping for a boy!" Jack grinned, moving his hand to cover Y/N’s.
"You know it’s not your baby, right Jack?" Alex laughed, alerting the two on the sofa to his still very sleepy presence.
"Are you sure?" Jack pouted, "I thought it belonged to every member of the band equally."
"Nuh-uh," Alex shook his head, sitting on Y/N’s other side and gently pulling her out of Jack’s arms towards him, "mine! Morning sickness get you again babe?"
"Yes," Y/N pouted, burying her head into the soft hoody her boyfriend was wearing, "I think it’s getting worse."
"Not too long before you’re past it now," Alex soothed, stroking a hand over her soft hair.
The three friends sat for a moment in amiable silence.
"Do you really think it’s going to be a boy?" Alex eventually burst out, his eyes shining at the thought.
"Mm, I have a feeling," Y/N’s answer was slow – the quiet, paired with the relaxing feeling of her boyfriend’s hands stroking through her hair had almost lulled her back to sleep, "but we’re only eight weeks in, so I don’t know if it even knows what it’s going to be yet!"
As one of very few girls tagging along on most of their tours, Y/N was used to the ATL crew being slightly overprotective of her, but now that she was pregnant it was all getting to ridiculous levels.
She usually found little ways to pass the time, doing odd jobs for various crew members while her boyfriend (and his band mates) were busy doing all the things that being in a band required them to do – interviews, sound checks, meet & greets, playing about a million hours of Madden.
But now even her normal, daily tour-life chores, like helping Vinny to set up the merch stand…
“Don’t you dare pick up that box Y/N!”
“It’s just those rubber bracelets Vin, it’s really not that heavy.”
“Don’t care. You’re not lifting anything, not this tour…you can start arranging the shirts if you want. That’s as strenuous as you’re allowed.”
Or grabbing an entire crew’s worth of caffeinated beverages from the nearest coffee shop…
“Hey Jeff, I’m doing a coffee run, you want anything?”
“Who’s going with you?”
“What? No one, there’s a Starbucks literally round the corner.”
“Give me five minutes, then we’ll go together. I don’t want you out there on your own.”
Or even popping out to chat with whichever fans got there the earliest…
“Going somewhere Y/N?”
“Um yeah, I think the first people just started queuing so I thought I’d go and say hi.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’? Flyzik, I do this all the time…”
“Not any more. It’s too dangerous in your condition – I know how crazy these ATL fans can get!”
…were being shut down at every turn.
“No one’s letting me do anything Riannn,” Y/N whined, hanging over the drummer’s shoulder while he tried to put in some last minute practice.
“That’s because we love you too much sugarplum,” he explained, laughing at the pathetic pout she sent his way, “you and the little oriole.”
Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the nickname that had been given to her unborn child.
“Well the oriole is just as bored as I am,” she informed her friend, straightening out and stretching a little, “he’s been extra fluttery these last few days.”
Although all the books said she wouldn’t be able to feel her baby moving until 20 weeks (a full 9 weeks further in than she was currently) Y/N had maintained that her little one, being the spawn of a hyperactive man-child, had begun letting her know he was there early. No one else could feel it, however long they kept their hand on her stomach, but she described the movement as a flutter…which, she had to admit, may just be the constant excitement of knowing there was a little human inside her.
Rian went back to his drumming now that the pregnant lady had undraped herself from his shoulders, and Y/N decided to go and find someone else to annoy. Maybe if she got everyone really mad, they’d stop suffocating her with all their caring.
She didn’t get very far backstage – only a few steps past the large guitar rack stationed at the side of it – when she felt a sharp pain in her stomach.
She tried to take another step, but froze as a second stab of white hotness shot through her.
Y/N tried to stay calm, to push the awful worst thought in the world away from her consciousness, and looked around for someone to help her. Aside from Rian, drumming too loudly to hear any call for help she made back on the stage, the whole area was deserted.
A million times on previous tours she had wished for more privacy, for one quiet moment in the middle of it all, and now that she had one, it was the last thing she wanted.
Another pang of pain travelled through her, this one worse than the last (which had been worse than the one before it…) and she focused every ounce of her being into hoping that her precious cargo was okay.
“Y/N? You okay?”
She had been concentrating so hard that she’d missed Rian’s first three attempts to talk to her.
“I don’t think I am,” he voice came out in a hoarse whisper, as if volume was going to make a difference now.
She turned her head to look at the drummer, her face a deathly white.
“I think I need to get to a hospital.”
And then she passed out.
When they discharged her the tour bus came to collect her from the hospital, parked innocently among the cars, and the sight of it would almost have been funny if it hadn’t been for the fact that Y/N didn’t have any emotion left.
She felt like she should be crying or yelling or something, but all she could be was quiet. She didn’t accept the hand Alex offered to help her onto the bus, hating how hurt he looked but unable to allow anyone to touch her right now. Her skin felt too tight for her body, like the slight accidental brush of fingertips would be enough to break her open.
She didn’t respond to the sad eyes, spoken condolences or open arms of any of the ATL band or crew, just pushed past the people in this world that she was closest to and made her way to the isolated back lounge. She half registered that Alex had stayed with their friends, and she was glad - he would need comforting right now, and she was in no position to offer that.
As soon as she was on her own she sunk to her knees, her eyes burning with the need to cry, but unable to force even one tear out of them…she registered the sound of someone’s anguished scream, and clamped a hand over her mouth as she realised that it was her own, not wanting any of the others to disturb her private pain.
The cruellest part of the next few days was that her body had yet to realise she was no longer pregnant. She was still waking up with morning sickness every day, and if anything her stupid cravings were getting more intense…and yet the inescapable truth that there was no baby any more was a weight in her stomach heavier than her little one had ever been. She threw herself into helping out wherever she could with the ongoing tour, ignoring the suggestions that she rest up, take a break, slow down that were thrown in her direction every day.
"I need to be busy" she snapped eventually, on the third day after she came out of hospital, "if I’m not busy, I’m thinking. I don’t want to think right now."
On the fourth day, not one person suggested she pause for even a second.
She had been sleeping on the spare bunk ever since her return to the bus. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sleep next to Alex, it was just that he seemed to have such an abundance of emotion right now, and she couldn’t deal with any of it. She could hear him crying through long nights of no sleep, feeling the loss as keenly as she was, and her heart ached with the need to help him…the rest of her was still unable to go near him though.
He gave her space, although it killed him to do so, but he kept a fierce eye on her. Y/N didn’t know herself like he knew her, couldn’t see the stress fractures multiplying under her own skin…she had no idea about the impending earthquake within her, but Alex saw it coming, and steeled himself for a straight nine on the Richter scale.
For the first time since her miscarriage, Y/N had woken up without the heavy feeling of nausea burning the back of her throat. She thanked whatever deity may be listening for the blessed break from morning sickness, and then immediately felt guilty. Her internal monologue began a very convincing argument that being glad for that was the same as being glad that her child was dead…Y/N squashed the thought down, telling herself to stop being so ridiculous.
She swung herself out of her bunk, checking the bus for some form of life. There was no evidence of any…Y/N ambled down towards their little kitchenette, beginning her normal morning routine of turning the coffee machine on and checking over the day’s schedule.
And there it was, written in thick capital lettering, her own handwriting highlighted and decorated with a stupid smiley face, right at the top of her planner.
12 WEEK SCAN 😊
The emotion that had been so absent for the last week appeared all at once - anger and guilt and the most intense sadness she could ever imagine, all crashing down on her, dragging her to the floor where she curled up in a fetal position and sobbed until her throat was raw.
That’s how Matt found her, twelve minutes later according to the timer on the coffee machine…his first thought was to scoop the fragile female up into a hug, to offer any small amount of comfort he could, but that thought was quickly overridden by the idea that he should get Alex.
Alex hated being woken, especially these days when he barely slept through nights of overwhelming sadness…but as he opened his eyes to Matt’s concerned face, the tour manager worrying his lip ring with his teeth so fiercely that he was in danger of pulling it out, his thoughts immediately went to his girlfriend. Had she finally cracked?
"Y/N is…" Matt didn’t know how to finish that sentence, but he didn’t have to.
Alex was already out of bed, pulling on the first shirt he grabbed and following the sound of sobbing down to where Y/N was curled up on the floor.
He knelt next to her, tentatively reaching a hand out to stroke through her soft hair.
"Y/N, what can I do?" he asked, fighting his urge to gather her up into an all-encompassing hug until she gave him permission.
She didn’t answer, instead reaching her arms out to pull herself up into his lap, holding onto him like a lifeline.
He wrapped his arms around her (because if that wasn’t permission, he didn’t know what was) and rocked her slightly in an attempt to calm her down, not wanting to force any words from her until she was ready. The planner that she had been curled around was now discarded on the floor, and knowing how precious Y/N was of that thing he reached one careful arm out, keeping her firmly wrapped in the other, and picked it up, the same phrase that had sparked all of this catching his eye.
12 WEEK SCAN 😊
He tried to choke back his own sob, wanting to be there for his girlfriend but finding himself incredibly overwhelmed with the thought that had the world been kinder they would have seen their little one for the first time that day. Y/N tangled her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing his face down to rest on her shoulder while she remained buried in his chest.
"It’s okay," she whispered, voice strained and rough through her tears, "you can be sad too."
And that was all Alex needed to hear to set his own emotions rushing, his hands fisting in the back of the grey Ravens tank that Y/N was wearing, pulling his girlfriend an impossible inch closer to him while they sobbed together, finally sharing their sadness.
By the time the rest of the bus was getting up their tears had subsided to a manageable level, and they were curled up on the sofa trying to take each other’s minds off everything, recounting stupid stories that they had stored for each other over the last week. Their fingers were tangled together, and Alex’s heart swelled every time Y/N leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.
The rest of the touring party, for their part, were just glad to see the eternal sweethearts back together. The warning in Alex’s eyes as a procession of crew & band mates flitted in and out of the front lounge told them not to mention anything, but everyone held hope that this might be the first tiny step on the way back to normality.
A hot, dry day off somewhere in Arizona was all the excuse needed for the All Time Low crew to set up their marquee and grill out…not that they really needed any excuse at all – it was kind of their favourite thing to do.
“Hey, while you lot get started on the food, I’m going to go for a run,” Zack announced, surprising no one, but piquing Y/N’s interest.
“How far do you think you’ll go?” she asked, squinting up at the heavily muscled bassist.
“Not too far…come with if you want?” Zack smiled, “I miss having a running partner.”
“I can’t promise I’ll still be able to keep up,” she shrugged, “but a run sounds really good right now.”
She sent a glance over to Alex, almost asking his permission to indulge in what had been one of her favourite activities before her pregnancy. He smiled encouragingly.
“Let me just go and change.”
Y/N slid out of Alex’s arms, darting into the bus to dig through her luggage for any running appropriate clothes she might have bought with her.
“She seems like she’s doing better,” Zack commented, taking a seat opposite his friend to wait for her.
“Yeah,” Alex smiled affectionately, glancing in the direction his girlfriend had just gone, “it’s good to see her getting her energy back, you know? She’s more herself every day.”
“And how are you doing?”
The question was so simple, but it still knocked Alex for six. He had been focused so hard on how well Y/N was healing, he’d pushed his own pain to the back of his mind.
“I’m…” he considered his answer carefully, “I’m sleeping better now that we’re sharing the bunk again. There’s less weight in my chest every day, which is a good sign I guess?”
He cut himself off as Y/N came bounding back towards them, now in shorts, a tank and trainers. Zack stood up to greet her, turning to Alex again just before they left.
“If you need to talk or anything…” he trailed off, clapping a hand down on his friend’s shoulder.
“Thanks man,” Alex nodded, smiling gratefully as his slightly over-excited girlfriend practically dragged the quiet bassist out of their makeshift tent.
By the time Zack & Y/N got back, the cook out was fully underway and a game of beer pong had, rather predictably, been set up. The run had imparted Y/N with more energy than she could remember having in a long time, and as she took a quick shower before heading out to join the large group of males that she spent most of her waking moments with, she felt a new kind of peace settling into her bones.
As dusk fell and the heat of the day rolled away, the group moved their party onto the tour bus. Alex & Y/N settled into the back lounge with some of the others, a shitty zombie film being played on the TV, but most choosing to ignore it in favour of casual conversation.
Y/N stayed mostly quiet, a small smile playing on her lips as she studied Alex’s face while her fell into a discussion with Jeff. For the first time in weeks, she could feel a flame of real attraction in her chest. As Jeff got up to grab another beer, Y/N took the opportunity to press her lips to Alex’s in a kiss far more passionate than any they’d shared recently…she felt a tremor of excitement run through her body.
She was actually turned on right now, craving his touch in ways she hadn’t felt for too long.
"Bunk, now!" she hissed, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him to their shared space.
She pulled him in, lips locking on his as soon as the curtains were drawn.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Alex questioned, pulling away to gasp out the words.
"Yes! Alex Gaskarth, if you don’t fuck me tonight I swear to God, I’m going straight over to Jack’s bunk, and I’m going to ride him like a freaking pony.”
"Okay, okay," Alex laughed, pressing a hand against her mouth to silence her, "don’t ever say anything like that again!"
"I’m not entirely opposed to the idea," the familiar voice of Jack Barakat rang out from far closer to their heads than either of them expected.
"Jesus Christ," Alex mumbled, relaxing his arms to lower his body onto Y/N’s, pressing his face into the pillow above her head.
The curtain surrounding their bunk was pulled open, revealing Jack’s grinning face. Alex let out a frustrated moan into the pillow below him.
"What do you want Barakat?" Y/N growled.
"Alex left his phone on the table, I thought he might want it," Jack laughed, putting the device on the pillow next to Alex’s head.
Alex turned his head to see his familiar polka dotted phone case.
"Thanks," he nodded, reaching out a hand to move the phone onto the shelf in the bunk, "now could you fuck off? You’re kind of ruining the mood."
"Okay…have fun kids – be safe!" Jack dropped the curtain, laughing to himself as he crawled into his own bunk, making sure to grab his headphones on the way.
For their part both Alex and Y/N had frozen at Jack’s innocent turn of phrase.
"Motherfucker," Alex cursed, rolling off his girlfriend and flopping onto his back next to her, "are you okay sweetie?"
"Yeah," there was a slight tremor in Y/N’s voice, "Jack didn’t realise what he was saying."
"He’s an idiot. Why are we friends with him?"
"There’s no ‘we’ about it - you’re friends with him, I tolerate him for your sake."
"Five minutes ago you said you wanted to ride him!"
"I never said I wanted to!" Y/N protested, laughing slightly, "just that I would, if you forced my hand."
There was a pause, filled with a hundred things neither of them wanted to verbalise.
"I’m still really horny," Y/N whispered eventually, turning to bury her head in Alex’s shoulder, "I can’t even remember the last time we had sex it’s been that long."
"It’s been three weeks honey," Alex laughed, shutting up quickly as Y/N glared at him.
"You know, we could just pretend the last five minutes never happened and try to pick up where we left off…" Y/N bit her lip, unsure how much Jack’s comment had affected her boyfriend.
Alex smiled gently as he met Y/N’s wide eyed gaze, his hand already moving to trace over the front of her lacy thong.
She bucked up, trying to gain more friction where she needed it most, and he laughed dryly.
"So eager," he mumbled, biting into her neck as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her skimpy underwear, pushing it down and smirking as she kicked it off.
"Oh, because you’re so patient," she growled back, her words coming out in gasps as he traced his fingers lightly over her slickness.
"Not when it comes to you," Alex agreed as Y/N tugged at the shirt he was wearing, pulling it off with some difficulty "you drive me crazy."
Y/N didn’t respond, her focus on the slow mission she had embarked on, pressing him back into the bed and exploring his body like it was her first time. She traced slow patterns on his chest, grinning at the groan that even that simple contact drew from his lips (more from anticipation than anything else). Her hands moved down, tracing stomach muscles as she bit into his left hip, leaving a mark that coloured up immediately, her soft fingertips brushing over the immediate bruise with some pride. His underwear was removed in a much smoother movement than his shirt had been, and suddenly her mouth was exactly where he wanted it to be, and his eyes were practically rolling back into his head. She had always been good at this.
"Y/N," he managed to gasp out, his focus sliding in again for a brief second as he tried to pull her back up towards him, "tonight’s meant to be about you!"
Y/N protested a little as he lifted her away from the target it had taken her so long to hit, but she didn’t fight too hard.
"Tonight is about us," she corrected, reaching out a hand to swipe his fringe back into place.
He grabbed the hand, turning his head to press a kiss to the palm and flicking out his tongue to trace the tattoo on her wrist.
"I love you," he mumbled, flipping them over so that she was under him, revelling in the upper hand for a second before his expression dropped to serious again, "I love you so fucking much…okay?"
"I love you too," Y/N smiled, squeezing back the tears that threaten to spill at the desperation of his declaration. She arched her back up, tangling fingers through his hair as she did so to pull him down into a fierce kiss.
Alex pressed a tentative finger inside his girlfriend as they kissed, loving the feel of her moan echoing into his mouth (and they were probably making far too much noise, considering that they were haring a bus with so many others, but it had been three weeks, goddamn it, and neither of them felt particularly inclined to attempt noise control).
"Oh please, more," she whimpered, thrusting up against his hands, words mumbled against his lips in between kisses, "I need more than your fingers ‘Lex."
He hummed his agreement, flicking his wrist one final time just to feel Y/N squirm underneath him and then removing his hand altogether, replacing it with a different kind of pressure at her entrance.
"Are you sure?" he hissed, needing to hear her confirmation one more time.
"Yes! Oh God, yes…"
And that was it - he was inside her with one movement, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as the familiar warmth surrounded him.
As he pulled out again he revelled in the whimper that fell past his girlfriend’s lips - he had always loved the sounds she made, always did his best to draw as many of them out of her as possible.
For her part, Y/N was already falling apart underneath her man. She could feel everything inside her coiling tighter, the sensation increasing with every thrust.
"M’close," she mumbled, arching up into Alex.
"Me too," he nodded, staring down at the incredible beauty below him.
With a final thrust Y/N uncoiled, her entire body shuddering in pleasure…Alex could feel her muscles clenching around him, and it tipped him into oblivion too, his body tensing as he pulled his girlfriend as close as he possibly could, his familiar moan echoing around her head.
They relaxed into a close embrace, both relishing the feeling of skin on skin that they’d gone without for so long.
“I missed this,” Alex admitted, playing with his girlfriend’s fingers absent mindedly.
“Me too,” she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, affection flowing freely between them now, all walls broken down.
A gruff voice rang out from somewhere outside the curtain.
“Yeah well, the rest of the bus didn’t!”
And they weren’t the family Y/N had been nurturing in her head, but this ever travelling circus of under washed, over tattooed clowns were still family. And she kind of loved that.
Authors Note: When I wrote Calum’s Cliché one shot (found here) it originally had one extra scene on the end, which I didn't post because I thought that people would lose interest after the smut…I was very wrong, and I've had quite a few requests for a conclusion to Two Steps Forward. This isn't really a part two, it’s more like a DVD extra deleted scene, posted as a thank you to everyone who has liked or reblogged or really just read my little series. Enjoy!
It’s been a week, and Y/N has been avoiding doing anything that might bring her into contact with Calum, even if that means not seeing the other 5SOS boys. She may well be cutting off her nose to spite her face, but as long as she doesn't have to face him, she doesn't really mind. Her dad has been on her back, unsure as to why she has been so present in the house for the week when she is usually so incredibly absent (it’s not that I don’t like seeing you honey, it’s just so unlike you, are you sure everything is okay?), but Y/N has avoided all questions with sarcastic comments and other assorted defence mechanisms.
When the door bell rings on the early Friday evening she isn't sure who she’s expecting, but it’s not the dark haired, dark eyed bassist. But of course, that’s who’s stood the other side of the sturdy wood, and Y/N truly considers slamming it shut on him again (just for dramatic effect really), but then he starts speaking and the moment is lost.
“You've been avoiding me,” he almost questions.
“You’re right, I have been avoiding you. I guess you’d better come in.”
As Calum shuffles awkwardly into her hallway Y/N notes that his gaze flickers up to the staircase, and she can’t help but wonder if he’s planning for this encounter to involve any staircase nuptials…
Not that she would allow that again.
“Look, I’m sorry about last week, you were right…what I did wasn't fair,” he’s mumbling, voice so quiet that Y/N can barely hear the apology.
And he’s not getting off that easily, not when she’s been sharpening her tongue ready for this encounter for the last seven days.
“Right again –“ she’s ready to truly lay into him, barbs about to tumble over well prepared lips, when suddenly he’s pulling her into a hug so tight that she can’t say anything at all for fear of choking on his t shirt.
“I missed you.” He whispers into her hair, wincing slightly at the derisive snort she gives in return.
“You mean you missed –“
“No,” Calum’s voice was stern, his hands firm on her shoulders and his gaze penetrating hers, “don’t turn it into a joke…just accept it for what it is. I missed you.”
And he’s sincere, obviously means more than just that he missed having sex with her, and Y/N kind of collapses her defences because truthfully, she had missed him too.
“I probably overreacted a little,” she admitted, “I mean, I know she’s your girlfriend. But, you know, I’m your…your…”
Y/N trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.
“That’s where I’m having trouble too,” Calum informed her, a gentle smile on his face, “friends with benefits doesn't really cover it, and fuck buddy sounds kind of awful. I guess I just consider you my Y/N.”
"I want that for my birthday," Mike mumbled, gaining Y/N's full attention.
"The Little Mermaid over there?" Y/N grinned, following his gesture.
"Yeah. She's hot," Mike turned to the bar to ordered another drink, and Y/N took a deep breath, smoothed her dress down slightly and headed off towards the girl Mikey had pointed out.
By the time he turned back, rum and coke in hand, Y/N had made her move.
The two girls were moving in time, bodies pressed close together and hands roaming ever so slightly indecently.
"What the fuck is Y/N doing?" Ashton drawled drunkenly, appearing next to Michael, frowning at the scene which had caught the attention of most of the males at the club, "I should stop her."
A firm hand on the drummer's shoulder prevented him from taking another step.
"Band rules state that you must never stop two hot girls from practically having sex with each other,” Calum informed Ash, his voice grave, “take another step towards them and we will be forced to find a new drummer."
"But -" Ash's protest was cut off by Luke, who appeared on his other side and helped the bassist push him back into a bar stool.
"Just enjoy the show," he soothed, "you might never get to see something as beautiful as this again.
Mikey barely even noticed his band mate's exchange, too engrossed in the scene unfolding in front of him.
Y/N's back was arched, pressing her pert bum against her gorgeous dance partner's crotch while still displaying her breasts proudly, a feminine hand splayed over her hips just below the tiny tucked in waist that completed her enviable hourglass figure. Just as Michael finished his thorough study of Y/N she looked over at him, heavy lidded gaze meeting his, a small seductive smile gracing her painted lips, and Mike's head went into overdrive. His mind flooded with images of him putting those red lips to good use wrapped around his hard length...had someone asked him his name in that exact moment, he would have been hard pressed to answer correctly.
As the song changed Y/N spun to face the other girl, stretching up and capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. The redhead responded happily, their bodies never missing a beat in their movement to the music. As they parted, the red head's lips now matching her hair, Y/N whispered something to her new acquaintance, who nodded eagerly.
Turning around Y/N caught sight of the four boys. She smiled cockily at the vacant stares on all four faces (even Ashton had given up his protests) and sauntered back over to them. She leant over Mikey to grab her handbag off the bar and brought him back down to earth with a whisper in his ear.
"She'll be in my hotel room when the club closes...happy birthday Clifford," she stood upright again and turned to address the whole group, "I need to redo my lipstick. Someone get me a drink for when I get back."
*****
"I'm just going to have a cigarette before I come up," Y/N waved the boys ahead of her as they got out of the taxi, "night boys."
"I'll stay with you," Michael butted in quickly, before anyone else could offer, "don't want you out here on your own."
Ashton, Calum and Luke all said goodnight, wished Mikey a happy birthday once more and then headed up to their own rooms. Y/N lit a cigarette and took a slow drag.
"You think she'll turn up?" Michael asked, looking out over the car park.
Y/N nodded, shivering slightly despite the vodka coat she had on...
"Got a light?" their quiet musings were interrupted by a now-familiar head of red hair.
"Sure," Y/N flicked her lighter on, lighting the cigarette that was dangling out of the other girl's mouth, "this is Mikey...he's the birthday boy."
"Happy birthday," the girl grinned, nodding in his direction, "your girlfriend said you picked me out as your present..."
"Not his girlfriend," Y/N corrected, exhaling one final time and stubbing her cigarette out on the wall next to them, not offering any further explanation as to what she actually was. It wasn't as if the girl actually cared.
They stood in silence for a couple of minutes while the red head finished her cigarette, and then she motioned towards the hotel door.
"Shall we?"
The lift ride up to their floor was quiet, anticipation bubbling in three stomachs as the tension between them became palpable.
As soon as they got into the hotel room Michael's present was all over the other girl, hands and teeth exploring territory that he was suddenly so proud to have explored first.
"Mm," Y/N tipped her head back, allowing the red head easy access to her neck, "she's good with her mouth Mikey, bet she'd be a fantastic cocksucker."
The girl laughed against the flesh she had so expertly marked.
"I'm fucking amazing," she murmured, turning to grab Michael's hand and lead him over to the bed.
Mikey felt light headed as the girl worked to remove his clothes...he just about registered that he wasn't really sure where Y/N had gone, but then he was being pulled towards the edge of the bed and she was between his legs and Christ, she hadn't been lying, she really was fucking amazing.
"Was I right Clifford?" Y/N's voice was low in his ear, and he could feel her naked breasts pushed against his back while she worked her mouth over his neck and her hands through his hair, "is she a good little cocksucker?"
"Fucking hell," he gasped out as she bit down on his pulse point, "won't last like this."
"Don't fight it baby," Y/N pulled away slightly to offer her encouragement, "come down that pretty little throat..."
And with that Michael couldn't hold back any longer, letting himself follow Y/N's instructions. Y/N moved around to his side, allowing him to fall back on the bed while he caught his breath...the two girls were just getting warmed up though.
The redhead crawled up onto the bed, kneeling on the opposite side of his body from Y/N, who pulled her in to continue their earlier make out session.
"I can taste you on her tongue," Y/N gasped out, causing Mike to let out a moan somewhere outside her field of vision.
He propped himself up on his elbows, happy to watch the scene unfold between the two gorgeous females. Their touches were getting bolder, and curious exploration was giving way to an earnest need for pleasure...it was Y/N who made the first move.
"I always wanted to try eating pussy," she announced lowly, pushing the other girl back to lean against the headboard, "do you mind if I..?"
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't," she laughed, "you've seen what I can do with my mouth, time to impress me with yours."
Y/N was tentative at first, reminding Michael (in his spectators seat) for all the world of a kitten, lapping at its first saucer of cream...but the moans spilling out of the other female's mouth were all the encouragement she needed to gain confidence, and soon she was using her fingers and tongue like a pro. Mikey reached down and began to stroke himself as he watched, ready to join in the action again.
"Fuck her while she eats me out," the redhead suggested, catching Michael's movements out the corner of her eye and lifting her head enough to meet his gaze, "I wanna feel her moans."
Michael didn't need another invitation, and from the way Y/N repositioned herself she was more than up for the idea. He Iined himself up at her entrance and edged in slowly, knowing that this position really filled Y/N up.
"Mikey!" Y/N gasped, muffled by the pussy in front of her as he finally got all the way in, "oh God, move, please...fucking move."
Michael followed her instructions, beginning to slowly pull out again.
"She's not a china doll," the other girl reached forward and put her hands over Michael's, which were resting on Y/N's hips, "she said move, goddammit!"
Mike found his rhythm quickly, and judging from how intense the red head's moans were getting, Y/N was finding hers as well.
The new girl was the first to snap, screaming out her thanks to whatever deity might be listening as she shuddered to completion under Y/N's still lapping tongue.
As she calmed enough for her eyes to focus again she repositioned herself, pulling Y/N's head into her lap in an almost motherly gesture, stroking her hair softly while Mike pounded into her from behind.
"Such a good girl," she murmured, leaning down so that she was almost whispering into Y/N's ear, "isn't she a good girl Mikey?"
Michael grunted in reply, his movements not slowing.
"Yes, such a good girl..." she repeated, slipping a hand underneath the other girl's lithe body, "let me help you baby."
Her fingers easily found the exact spot Y/N needed them to, stroking at her clit and drawing multiple expletives from her lips. With the extra stimulation she began to move back more, meeting Michael in his thrusts.
They reached their peak simultaneously, Mike's moan ringing in her ears as she arched her back up against him, convulsing heavily in pleasure.
He pulled out gently, collapsing next to Y/N and pulling her into a bear hug. She snuggled into his chest, trying to match her heavy breathing to his.
"Well thanks for that," the smooth voice that broke through their intimate moment slightly shocked them both.
"You can stay if you want sugar," Y/N smiled softly, still pressed as close to Michael as she could be, "there's plenty of room."
"Yeah, but then it'll be awkward in the morning," the red head shrugged, "but hey, if you're ever back this way and want a repeat, call me!"
She dressed quickly, yelling a goodbye over her shoulder as she opened the hotel room door...just before she closed the door behind her she stole one more look at the two lovers, still lying close to each other on the bed, naked bodies entwined.
"Not his girlfriend my ass," she mumbled to herself, beginning the walk down the corridor.
The first time Luke went to Y/N’s house he was introduced as a friend from school (and even though they were already on the edge of being something more, he didn’t comment on the introduction – honestly wouldn’t have had the courage to with a father and a brother both staring him down).
The second time he went was for a proper meet the parents dinner, awkward as hell with conversation forced out between mouthfuls of homemade spaghetti, father and brother both still treating him like the enemy.
And now here he was, his third visit to Y/N’s house, and it was eerily quiet beyond her bedroom door (pushed closed out of habit, not necessity) due to the completely empty nature of every other room. Her parents and brother had gone to visit relatives, a trip she had only got out of by virtue of a lie, and she took the opportunity to invite her boyfriend over. So they made out a little, ordered a pizza to share, and perched themselves down on Y/N’s bed to watch a film.
They began sat innocently side by side, a couple of inches separating them, but by the time the credits began to roll, they had shifted so close that Y/N was tucked into Luke’s side, his arm draped across her shoulders nonchalantly. He stretched out slightly as the film ended, rolling his shoulders, which he hadn’t even realised were tensed. Y/N shivered as his arm left her body.
“Mm, you were keeping me warm,” Y/N murmured, her first syllable coming out closer to a moan than she intended.
“Sorry,” Luke bought his arm back down to its previous position, moving his other arm up to join it in a lop-sided hug, “better?”
“Much,” she nuzzled her head against the crook of his neck, soft hair brushing his slightly ticklish skin.
“You could just use a blanket,” he suggested, laughing lightly.
Y/N swung her head up to look at him, lips pouted in mock sadness. She misjudged their positioning very slightly, ending up much closer to Luke’s face than she had been aiming…and then she made the snap decision to utilise said closeness, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.
Luke reciprocated, ignoring multiple ‘bad idea’ lights that had been activated in his head. Y/N was an expert kisser, and somehow she even managed to get his shirt off without him noticing…
It was only as she began to fumble at his belt buckle that Luke’s head began screaming insecurities at him.
"Y/N, wait," he gasped, as her fingers brushed his crotch, "I haven’t done...I mean, not...not all..."
Y/N pulled away from him slightly, a wide grin spreading over her face.
"Are you a virgin?" she giggled, obviously enjoying his embarrassment.
Luke nodded, half glad that he hadn’t had to finish his sentence and half absolutely mortified.
"That’s kind of hot," Y/N mused, moving closer again to bite lightly on his lower lip, "I mean, we don’t have to go any further than you want to, but if we did carry on...I could teach you."
"I...I want to," Luke panted, causing Y/N to grin widely and dive back into a heated kiss, her hands beginning to attack his belt buckle anew.
"How much of a virgin are we talking?" she asked, a genuine look of curiosity crossing her face as she pushed his jeans down and palmed his crotch through his boxers.
"Jesus..." Luke gasped out, grabbing her wrist, "if you want me to answer questions, you’re going to have to stop for a second."
"Okay," Y/N nodded, kneeling up and looking at him expectantly, "so..?"
"Second base I guess," Luke shrugged, trying desperately to not look as embarrassed as he felt, "I mean, some hands, but neither of us really had any idea what we were doing."
"Well, lucky for you sir, I have a very good idea..." and with that Y/N pulled her dress over her head, leaving her in just her underwear.
She pushed a hand into his boxers, stroking his length a couple of times before pulling his last item of clothing off completely.
"If you want to touch," she whispered in his ear, lying down again and pressing her body close to his, "feel free."
It was an invitation Luke couldn’t ignore, and he reached a hand up to cup one of her breasts through her bra while she continued her languid strokes, capturing his lips in another passionate kiss.
He gained confidence from her enthusiasm, reaching around to attempt to undo her bra. He fumbled for a second, his fingers brushing against a multitude of straps.
"Undoes at the front Luke," she mumbled, reaching up to undo it one handed, without even glancing down (which impressed Luke no end, because he wasn’t sure he’d ever quite get the hang of that), and shrug it off her shoulders.
Now that there was no material in the way Luke found his confidence waning, unsure how best to tackle the expanse of flesh on display. Whether Y/N could sense his hesitation, or was just getting bored of waiting, she took it upon herself to place his hand over her breast, murmuring encouragement as his thumb brushed her nipple.
"Just explore," she smirked at him, as he moved his other hand up to her waist to trace patterns in her skin, "I’ll let you know what feels good, trust me."
Y/N renewed her concentration on the slow strokes she had been lavishing on his cock, speeding up slightly, as Luke began an earnest exploration of her body. Every new area he touched won him a new prize...when he tugged on her left nipple she let out an animalistic moan that shot straight to his groin. When he bit into her shoulder to stop himself from swearing as she swiped her thumb over the sensitive head of his penis she arched her back up, her mouth forming an ’o’ and her eyes blowing wide. When he slid his hands over the curve of her waist and then down to get rid of the thong that was the only fabric separating her skin from his she shivered under the gentle, ghosting touch of his finger tips...and when he finally worked up the courage to press his fingers to her slit, slick with her own juices and far warmer than Luke had imagined it would be, radiating a heat that seemed to draw him in, her head dropped to his shoulder and she became a writhing mess in his arms. Y/N’s body was so responsive, it was quickly becoming his favourite thing...alongside the wonderful, constant pleasure of her pumping hand that is.
But Y/N had an end game, and once she had allowed him his playtime she began working towards it, swinging a leg over his body and sitting up, straddling his lap and smirking down at the teenage boy trapped underneath her, baby blue’s dark with lust and blonde hair askew on his head. She leaned over to grab a condom from her bedside draw, and took her time rolling it down his hard length.
"Are you ready?" she asked as she finished her task, already positioning him at her entrance determinedly, making Luke wonder for about half a second what she would do if he in fact declared himself unready.
But then she shifted, and the head of his cock was inside her and he knew he wanted this more than he had ever wanted anything else...Y/N sunk down slowly, her breath catching in her throat as she did, and every time Luke thought it couldn’t get any better he was somehow deeper inside that wonderful tight warmth. He let out a groan, his hands gripping at Y/N’s waist as he tentatively shifted his hips up to meet her downward thrust.
"Oh God, yes, like that baby," she cried, her head tipping back in pleasure.
She pulled up again, and sank down expertly, his hips moving almost automatically to meet her now as they found an easy rhythm. Luke couldn’t even begin to explain the sensations rushing through his body, but he knew that it wouldn’t take long for them to overwhelm him, and he knew that he wanted to help Y/N get there quickly too.
He moved his right hand slightly, splaying it along her stomach so that his fingertips were still at her hip, but his thumb was now searching out a new target. Her movements faltered as he hit the bundle of nerves that he was aiming for, her eyes widening and a silent prayer of thanks crossing her lips...Christ, this kid was a fast learner. He tightened his grip on her other hip, his thrusts up becoming more confident as he neared his end...finally, he stiffened, thrusting up while holding her hips down hard enough that there would probably be bruises of his fingerprints there the next day (and if Luke hadn’t been occupied with the white hot pleasure coursing down his spine at that precise moment he would have found that image really fucking hot). As he shuddered to a stop Y/N moaned, fingernails raking down his chest.
"I’m so close baby, please..."
He was in a haze, but he moved his hand so that his thumb was brushing her clit again and she ground down on him hard for a couple of minutes until he felt her begin to shake...unable to hold her body up anymore, she fell forward onto his chest, moans waterfalling from her mouth as she writhed against him. If he hadn’t of just come, he was pretty sure that sight alone would have been enough to set him off.
Y/N half rolled off him, but he kept his arms around her to keep her close...apparently, he enjoyed snuggling after sex.
"Thank you," he mumbled, face pressed into her hair, which somehow still smelt of her tropical shampoo.
"My pleasure," she replied, not attempting to pull away from the suddenly drowsy teenage boy, "let’s do it again sometime."
"Mm," Luke agreed, reaching down blindly to grab the blanket neatly folded at the bottom of the bed, "let’s do it again sometime soon."
Y/N was almost asleep on her sofa when the text arrived. She rubbed her eyes slightly, trying to focus on the brightness of the screen while she replied.
‘No, home alone. Come over if u want. Xxx’
‘On my way’
It took 15 minutes for the doorbell to sound, and Y/N had almost dozed off again. She got off the sofa, dropping the blanket she had been lying under on the living room floor and leaving her in just the oversized hoody that she had found in her bedroom earlier that day.
Once she opened the door she didn’t even get a chance to greet Cal before his lips were on hers. He slammed the door shut behind him as he stepped into the house, beginning to walk them towards the stairs (while keeping their lips firmly attached) without even checking if it had closed properly.
As the back of Y/N’s legs hit the bottom steps of her staircase she fell, grabbing onto Calum’s shirt in an attempt to save herself, but only managing to pull him down with her. He was undeterred from his obvious mission, taking the lull in Y/N’s concentration as an opportunity to slip his hands underneath the hoody. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the offending item over her head, revealing her matching bra and panties, and then attached his lips to her neck, leaving harsh marks that he quickly soothed with his tongue.
Y/N revelled in his affections for a few minutes, her hands wandering absent mindedly over taught stomach muscles that tensed under her touch, and then latching onto his belt buckle. He arched up slightly to make it easier for her to undo the belt, and helped her to push his tight jeans down, kicking them off, and then he was against her again and Y/N could feel just how much he needed her.
He slipped his hands under her back and lifted her up a few steps, so that his head was level with her pale blue panties…in no time, her underwear had been discarded somewhere at the bottom of the stairs (with the jeans and the hoody and, as Y/N watched him remove it himself through heavy lidded eyes, now Calum’s tee as well) and Calum was running a finger teasingly over her slit, murmuring something about how wet she was, how fucking wet she always was, for him.
Y/N bucked her hips, needing more contact, and Calum chuckled darkly, pressing her back down with a large hand splayed over her stomach. He licked lightly at her folds, teasing her more and loving the desperate moans that were now tearing from her throat, and then suddenly his tongue was on her clit and she was mewling like a fucking kitten. Her hands raked through his hair while he built her closer and closer to her peak, tugging on the perfectly styled strands.
And then he added two fingers to the mix and Y/N lost it. He felt her insides clamp around his digits, glanced up to see her head thrown back against the step above her (and he had done this enough to know that if he could see her eyes they would be blown wide with lust) and felt her body shudder through its high.
He pulled away from her as she calmed slightly, crawling up a few steps so that he was hovering over her body, and kissed her deeply.
“Need you in me,” she moaned into the kiss, “please Cal, please fuck me…”
And he’d never heard her beg like that, never heard anything quite as desperate as the hot mess of a girl underneath him begging for his cock with hands fisted against his chest. He was out of his boxers in seconds, pushing himself roughly into her and gasping at the tight warmness that was always so new despite its familiarity.
Y/N carried on pleading, her nails tearing through the skin on his back as she moaned, and all of her words became one, jumbled in a stream of harderfasterpleaseCalmoreohgod.
As her second orgasm of the night racked through her Calum couldn’t hold his back anymore either, and through her own pleasure she felt him stiffen in a way she’d felt so many times before, his body shuddering as he pulled her as close as he possibly could.
And then he let out a guttural moan that was, unmistakeably, the wrong name.
Y/N froze, all the air leaving her lungs while Calum (apparently oblivious to his mistake) began to nuzzle into her neck, leaving soft kisses along her collar bone while he caught his breath.
“Fuck you Hood,” Y/N hissed, taking him off guard as she pushed him off her with all her strength and scrambled up to sit on the steps, a dull ache in her back protesting the sudden movement.
“We literally just finished, give me like ten minutes,” Calum joked, still sprawled out on the staircase, gazing up at her naked form with confusion evident on his face. He reached out a hand, wanting some kind of contact with her skin again.
“Don’t touch me!” Y/N growled, slapping his hand away.
He looked for all the world like a kicked puppy.
“What did I do?!”
“Do you imagine her every time that we fuck?” Y/N’s voice was low now, and as dangerous as Calum had ever heard it, “imagine it’s her letting you live out whatever fantasy is in your head this week? Let me tell you Cal, you could be with Little Miss Priss for a hundred years, and she would never once let you fuck her on her staircase.”
Realization dawned on Calum and he let out a harsh laugh.
“I’m sorry baby, but…she’s my girlfriend.”
Y/N winced at the use of the affectionate term, biting back the urge to tell him not to call her that.
“The only reason she gets to be the perfect fucking princess she is in your mind is because I’m the one who takes care of you every time she gets you all riled up and won’t follow through,” Y/N growled, standing up to take the last few steps and open the door to her bedroom, “she gets everything Calum, and she’s welcome to it…but that moment, when you press your forehead to mine and hold me close like you’re trying to fuse us together…when you shudder and pull that face, when you make that sound, that moan that is all yours and so distinctive that I can hear it in my fucking sleep…that’s my moment. And she can’t have it.”
She turned back to look at Calum, who was now frowning at her from his seat on the stairs.
“You know where the door is Hood. Show yourself out.”
Y/N was not happy with her boyfriend. Had you asked her to explain why, exactly, she would probably not have been able to (something to do with hectic schedules and grabby fans and never a single second to themselves and oh my god don’t even think about asking if it’s my time of the month, because my hormones don’t dictate when I’m allowed to get angry)…but that did not make her any less mad. And somehow seeing Ashton on stage, using the furious energy built up from the argument they had just had to hit his drums as hard as she’d ever seen, was just working to increase her anger…and making her very, very horny.
As they always did after a show, the band showered at the venue & then spent some time chilling out in their dressing room. When Y/N entered, her face still dark as thunder from their argument earlier, they were in the middle of an intense conversation about FIFA. Obviously. She went directly to Ashton and wrapped a hand around his neck to pull him into a passionate kiss, without a word of greeting.
“You have two options,” she hissed in his ear, pressing herself unnecessarily close to him, “you can stay here and talk to your friends…or you can come back to the hotel with me and have angry sex.”
She didn’t wait for his answer before she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.
“I uh…I have to go,” Ashton announced, his eyes still on the door.
“I thought you two were arguing,” Calum laughed, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“We are,” Ashton flashed a grin back at the other male and shot out of the door, leaving his band mates in hysterics.
Y/N already had a taxi waiting outside, ready to take them back to their hotel.
She didn't say one word on the journey, nor did she speak in the lift up to their hotel room, or make a sound while Ashton fumbled with the key card.
When the curly haired Australian finally got the door open his girlfriend grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room, kicking the door closed behind them. Y/N took Ashton by surprise, suddenly turning on him and slamming him back against the wall, kissing him even more passionately than she had earlier at the venue. It took him a second to regain himself, but as soon as he had he gave as good as he got - wrapping one arm around Y/N's curvy frame, pulling her tightly into him and bringing the other hand up to run it through her hair. The kiss was messy, violent, and all about need, not love. The couple fought to undress each other, somehow managing to find their way to the bed, falling onto it as one tangled mess. Y/N rolled them over so that she was on top, and sat up, looking down at Ashton, raking her fingernails down his bare chest.
"Ashton Fletcher Irwin, you make me so angry," she hissed, before leaning down and attacking his neck with her teeth, drawing deliciously desperate sounds out of him. She stopped for a second to whisper in his ear, "and so fucking wet.”
Ash growled involuntarily, the sound low in the back of his throat. Y/N was obviously trying to drive him crazy, and two years into their relationship she knew exactly how to do it...although, he had to admit, he really didn't mind.
Y/N had kissed her way down his neck, licked all along his collar bone, and was now working her way down his chest. She dragged her fingernails down his stomach, marking his skin with red marks that would last well into the next day, before moving to the waistband of the only piece of clothing Ashton was still wearing - his boxers. She tugged at the elastic, and Ashton shifted his hips so that she could slide the underwear off...now that his cock was exposed, Y/N wasted no time sinking her mouth over it, wrapping her small hand around the part that she couldn't fit in. Ashton's fingers wound their way through her hair, and he concentrated on not bucking his hips too much...she may be infuriating, but he didn't want to choke his girlfriend.
As Y/N felt Ash tense up underneath her, she pulled away from him, causing him to whine like a child.
"I need you in me,” she spoke quietly, her voice low and full of lust.
Ashton didn't need to be told twice – he flipped them over, so that he was now on top, and slid her thong down over her tanned legs...he couldn't resist kissing his way back up those legs, paying special attention to her inner thigh.
"Fucking tease,” Y/N hissed, and Ashton laughed lowly into the skin of her thigh, pleased to hear the note of desperation in her voice. He moved back up, his head now level with hers again, and kissed her deeply as he guided himself into her.
Y/N broke the kiss, moaning and arching her back in an almost obscene way...the in control, self assured girl from earlier was gone, and Ashton loved the way she came undone, relinquishing herself completely to him.
Ashton gripped the bed posts above his head, using them to increase the force of his thrusts into his girlfriend, letting out all the anger he had pent up over the evening…she met him with just as much ferocity, careering towards completion with absolute abandon. He felt her clench around him, knowing that he wasn’t too far behind her as she clung to him and rode out her high through his final few thrusts.
He let out a deep groan as he peaked, his entire body relaxing into a serenity that only came to him after a night in with his girlfriend.
"That was-"
Y/N pressed a finger to her boyfriend’s lips, cutting him off.
"We’ll talk in the morning,” she muttered, turning to face the wall.
It had been five minutes and his best friend was still up there with him. Zayn knew that she thought she could handle herself (honestly, mostly she was right, as much as it pained him to admit it) but the Gryffindor boy had been drunk and angry, and Zayn had an image of himself saving her from him and her finally realising that hey, Zayn’s pretty awesome. Maybe we should be together forever and ever.
As he made his way up the stairs he braced himself for screaming and crying and objects being thrown at heads…but what he actually found was just so much worse. The image of the girl he loved making out with someone else burned its way into his mind, and Zayn was pretty sure that even the most powerful memory charm wouldn’t get rid of it.
And he didn’t understand, because she hated him, the Gryffindor beater with the stupid suspenders and the superiority complex (and he’d never cared either way, but he was beginning to see why because fuck this guy, seriously). But now her pupils were blown wide and her lips were bruised and it was him that had done it.
When it should have been Zayn.
He could feel his heart breaking, just crumbling inside his chest, as he stared at the two people responsible for every milligram of pain that was coursing through his veins right now.
“I’ll, uh…I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he muttered, needing to get away from untucked t shirts and tousled hair that told him all too well what would have happened had he not walked up the stairs when he did.
“Zayn, wait,” her voice was soft, and so was her hand when she tucked it around his.
And as they began to walk down the stairs together he sighed at the realisation that he had already forgiven her. Because she had stabbed him in the chest and now she was pulling his insides out, and she was totally oblivious.
He pretended not to notice when she turned her head to look back at Louis, ignoring the smile that she shot at the guy who most definitely wasn’t him.
*****
Rumours were flying around the school the next day – he felt a little better, a little closer to healed, every time his best friend denied her relationship with Louis Asshole Tomlinson (as he would be known in Zayn’s inner monologue forever and ever amen), but it all fell apart again when she admitted to Zayn that the two of them had plans to sneak out and meet up in the hidden room near the Quidditch training grounds after her Prefect’s shift finished that night.
Not wanting to hang around the Ravenclaw common room and field questions about Louis Asshole Tomlinson and the girl that should, by rights, be Zayn’s girlfriend, he made his way to the library, intent on studying for their upcoming History of Magic test.
“You haven’t turned the page in half an hour.”
A voice in Zayn’s ear tore him out of his own head, and he looked up to see Y/N, a fellow Ravenclaw fifth year, smiling down at him.
“I can’t concentrate,” he admitted, flipping the book shut as he spoke.
“Is that because the girl you love is currently breaking curfew to swap saliva with a dashing Gryffindor Quidditch star?”
Zayn’s look of utter shock caused Y/N to laugh as she slid into the chair next to his.
“You’re like an adoring puppy when it comes to that girl,” she explained, “how she hasn’t noticed is beyond me, but you’re obviously infatuated.”
“I didn’t think anyone had noticed,” Zayn sighed, bringing his head down to rest on the cool wood of the table.
“Well you’re wrong,” Y/N shrugged, “but there’s no point dwelling on that…the more pressing matter right now is what are you going to do about it?”
“There’s nothing I can do,” Zayn shrugged, “she just sees me as a friend.”
“Then you need to show her how good a boyfriend you could be,” Y/N was being so matter of fact about it all, Zayn wondered for a second if he’d maybe fallen asleep in the library and was dreaming this. It felt a bit surreal.
“Maybe if I had a relationship with someone else she’d see…but I can’t just date someone and then drop them the second she decides she likes me back,” Zayn frowned, “it wouldn’t be fair to the other girl.”
“I could be the other girl,” Y/N shrugged, “we can pretend to date, she’ll get jealous and then we’ll break up. No harm no foul.”
Zayn studied the girl sat in front of him carefully, trying to figure her out.
“Why?” he eventually asked.
“Because you need to either get the girl or get over the girl, and because I want to help.”
Somehow that settled it, and Zayn felt like his head was light and his chest was heavy and he was scared and excited and a million other things because soon, wonderfully impossibly soon, she would be his and his world would be better.
*****
Y/N had done some stupid things in her life. When she was four she had eaten a worm because her sister dared her to, and during her third year at Hogwarts she had gotten so mad at one of the other students that she had cast the jelly legs jinx on him (and nearly gotten expelled in the process), but this really took the biscuit.
By the end of her first ‘date’ with Zayn she had realised her mistake…he had been attentive and sweet and generally a gentleman, and somehow the fake relationship that she had fallen into was better than any of her real relationships had ever been.
And now they were curled up together in the Ravenclaw common room, him whispering a story into her ear, breath tickling her neck while he spoke, and it was all so nice. Y/N didn’t even remember their pact until the reason for it slumped into the chair next to them. Zayn stopped his story immediately, his attention on the new arrival.
“Where have you been?” he asked, glancing up at the clock on the wall in front of them.
Stupid question the voice in Y/N’s head said, knowing that the answer would cause upset.
“Just in the Gryffindor common room,” the other girl’s face flushed as a small smile grew on her lips.
“Again?” Zayn didn’t seem as bothered by the news as Y/N had expected him to be, “are you and Louis actually official yet?”
“I don’t think we’re ever going to be official,” she pulled a face, “it’d be too weird, neither of us are very coupley people. Not like you two, looking like the cutest thing I’ve ever seen all curled up together!”
Zayn grinned down at Y/N at that, dipping to kiss her forehead.
“We are pretty cute,” Y/N admitted, smiling at the other girl.
The three of them sat and talked until the common room was empty. Despite the fact that there was a bizarre self-aware kind of love triangle between the three of them, Y/N found that she actually really enjoyed talking to her rival – she was funny and sweet, not to mention entirely beautiful. It was, sadly, pretty obvious why Zayn had fallen in love with her.
Eventually the Ravenclaw chaser decided she was going to bed, leaving Y/N and Zayn on their own, still curled up in their armchair.
“You two behave now!” she winked as she left, laughing to herself.
As she made her way out of the door Y/N stretched herself out and made a move to get out of Zayn’s lap.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her to keep her in place.
“There’s no one here Zayn,” Y/N smiled sadly, “we don’t have to pretend now.”
“Someone could walk back in at any second,” Zayn’s face mirrored Y/N’s serious expression, “so we should probably stay curled up. Just in case.”
His grip around her body tightened slightly and she gave in, snuggling back into his chest. Zayn buried his face into her hair and they fell into a comfortable silence, sharing body heat and counting heartbeats.
“I like this,” Zayn murmured eventually, so quietly that she wondered if he was talking to himself.
She turned her head slightly, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as she did.
“What do you like?”
Zayn could have answered with any number of things – the smell of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin, the flush of her cheeks and the curl of her hair, to name a few – but none of them made sense. He had thought for so long that he was in love with his best friend, and now there was this moment, with no fireworks, no swelling of violins, no rose petals or candles or wild declarations of passionate love, and she was forgotten. Because this creature curled up in his arms, a look of confusion marring her face, was somehow much closer to what he really needed.
“I like you,” he admitted finally, knowing that the words didn’t come close to what he actually wanted to say.
The confusion didn’t go away – stayed for a few seconds even after he’d bought his lips to hers – but then it melted and they were kissing tentatively and gently and it wasn’t like the ones they’d shared before (the ones for the benefit of the watching crowds) this was just them, intimate and sweet.
And when they pulled away he pressed his forehead to hers, eyes still closed as he spoke softly.
“Can we pretend that we never started pretending?”
“Pleeease Y/N…it won’t be any fun without you,” Niall pleaded, making puppy dog eyes at his best friend.
“It won’t be any fun with me!” she protested, “It’s a night in the forbidden forest…can’t we just sneak out to the Three Broomsticks instead? Butterbeer sounds so much nicer than getting trampled by centaurs or eaten by giant spiders.”
“Most of the acromantula’s died in the Battle of Hogwarts-”
Y/N’s angry glare cut Niall of mid-sentence, and he decided to change tack.
“Wouldn’t it be cool to see a hippogriff though...we might even be able to find the Ford Anglia that Ron Weasley and Harry Potter flew to school in that time.”
Y/N’s love of anything Harry Potter related was a weakness that it was all too easy to exploit.
“Fine,” she whispered, after a couple of seconds of contemplative silence, “but the second anything attempts to murder us, we’re coming back to the castle.”
“Deal,” Niall agreed, his grin threatening to split his entire face in two.
*****
Of course, Y/N was right…it was a terrible idea for a group of Hogwarts students to go unaccompanied into the Forbidden Forest. There were about seven of them all together, and Y/N was pretty sure that the strongest spell most of them had perfected was ‘expelliarmus’ (although one of the Ravenclaw girls had managed to cast an impressive Jelly-Legs Jinx a couple of years earlier, which was still talked about in the Hogwarts hallways…Y/N like the image of an acromantula with eight jelly-legs a lot more than any other images of the giant spiders).
The group managed to spend half an hour in the forest before a noise that everyone was convinced could only be made by a manticore sent them all back to the castle at top speed. It was only once they were congregated in the Hufflepuff common room that courage returned to them and they decided to spend their evening telling scary stories.
It was yet one more thing that Y/N put firmly on her ‘bad idea’ list…just three sentences into the first story, she found herself hiding in Niall’s t-shirt.
Niall shook his head in amusement, but didn't say anything, knowing that a snarky comment would just earn him a punch from his best friend. Instead he kissed the top of her head affectionately, and rubbed her back comfortingly.
As the story ended Y/N straightened up, flashing Niall a small smile before focusing on the Slytherin girl who had begun another story. Niall felt a cold patch on his chest where her head had been and found himself wishing for another scary moment...it wasn't too long before Niall's wish was answered, and Y/N was back to being buried in his t-shirt - she spent the majority of the night like that.
She didn’t even let go of his arm when everyone was saying their goodnights.
"I didn’t know it was possible to be scared by goodbyes," Niall laughed as they waved the rest of their friends out of the common room.
As he had predicted earlier, his jibe earned him a punch in the arm.
"Don't tease me," Y/N sulked.
"Don't hit me," Niall pouted back, "I acted as a human shield for two hours, and that's the thanks I get?"
Y/N just stuck her tongue out at him and checked the clock to see if it really had been two hours. It was now 12:03am.
"We should go to bed. I want to be wide awake for our first day of lessons tomorrow!”
“You geek,” Niall teased, earning himself another punch on the arm from Y/N, “ouch…sorry.”
Y/N began a hesitant walk towards the female bedrooms, and Niall watched her with some amusement, anticipating what she was going to say next.
“You know, it's going to be so scary all alone in my cold bed, in the dark girl’s dormitory..." Y/N pouted, turning back to look at Niall through her long, dark lashes.
He rolled his eyes and laughed, but took her bait anyway.
"You can share with me if you want...seeing as you're such a wimp."
"Hey!" Y/N refrained from punching him this time, only because he was letting her sleep in his bed.
Niall and Y/N had shared a bed many times, but Niall had never noticed how perfectly his body wrapped around hers before...he had never noticed how smooth her skin was, or how much the curve of her hip begged him to run his hand over it, or how her legs tangled with his in such a teasing manner. Niall had spent four years sleeping in a bed with Y/N, and only now was he realising that she was a girl...and an attractive one at that.
*****
“Best Quidditch match of the year,” Y/N grinned, almost dancing a few steps ahead of Niall as they left the stadium.
“You only think that because your new best friend won,” Niall laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her back towards him, “ah, speak of the devil…”
Y/N looked to where Niall was pointing, and sure enough the blue haired Ravenclaw chaser that Y/N had gotten so close to this term was making her way towards them.
“Wasn’t it a good game,” she grinned as she got up to them, hugging them in turn.
“It was awesome,” Y/N replied, giving Niall a sharp nudge in the side and forcing him to agree too.
“I just wanted to formally invite you both to our victory party tonight – held in the Gryffindor common room and hosted by Mister Louis Tomlinson himself,” the mischievous grin on the girl’s face was infectious, and both Y/N and Niall found themselves grinning back.
“Ooh, can we go Niall? I heard that they still have Harry Potter’s broomstick on display in the Gryffindor common room!”
Y/N’s face was full of hope as she looked up at her best friend, and Niall couldn’t say no to that.
“Of course we can go,” he laughed.
“Goodie!” the Ravenclaw girl squealed, pulling them both into another hug, “me and Zayn will swing by the Hufflepuff common room at 7ish…invite Liam and that new French girl too!”
*****
“Uh-uh, no way…you’re not coming to my victory party in a shirt and jeans,” the Ravenclaw girl frowned, “go and put a dress on.”
“I don’t have any dresses,” Y/N returned a matching frown, looking down at the turquoise blouse and pale blue skinny jeans combo she had put on, “can’t I just go like this?”
“Absolutely not,” the Ravenclaw girl frowned back at her friend.
“I have a dress you can borrow,” the other Hufflepuff smiled, her lilting French accent breaking through the staring contest that the other two girls had fallen into.
“Well that’s settled then…boys, sit. We’ll be fifteen minutes,” the Ravenclaw whirlwind practically pushed the two Hufflepuff females back into their dorm room.
Niall, Liam and Zayn filled the time waiting for the girls with talk about the Quidditch world cup (Ireland were doing well, but they were playing China next and they were notoriously poor against Asian countries), their Herbology homework (all of them had gotten mandrake for question three, to Liam’s relief) and general school gossip (Harry Styles was apparently hooking up with a Slytherin girl, and no one could stop talking about it).
When the girls came back, Y/N had been transformed.
She was dressed for her house – a black and yellow floral print dress, a gold leaf motif bracelet, hair pulled back into a messy, natural looking ponytail, make up subtle and barely there except for the smudge of red lipstick…and she was stunning.
Liam & Zayn hummed their approval, the girls fussed over her a little more, and Niall’s gaze held hers steadily. It was only when the others started to make their way out of the cosy common room that Niall realised he hadn’t voiced any of the thoughts that were running through his head.
He turned quickly, his eyes searching the common room for the plant he knew he’d seen somewhere yesterday. His face broke into a smile as he caught site of the trailing white flowers, and he snapped a thin branch off and twisted it around itself to make a circle. Turning back to Y/N he gently placed it on her head, careful not to mess up her hairstyle.
“A crown for a princess,” he spoke softly, some kind of melancholy creeping into the edges of his voice, “you look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” it was only as she heard him say it that Y/N realised that she didn’t care what anyone else thought of her outfit – as long as Niall approved.
“Can I…can I try something?” Niall asked quietly, moving closer to his friend as he spoke.
She wasn’t surprised when Niall’s lips met hers before she even had time to acquiesce.
“I liked that,” Niall smiled, his lips still brushing against hers.
“Me too,” she whispered back, “but we really do need to get going…”
She motioned to the doorway, where four of their closest friends were pretending not to watch as their friendship became something wonderfully more.
Louis woke up early, anticipation bubbling in his stomach. Today was the day…the Gryffindor team’s first quidditch match of the year, and it was against her. Everyone was calling it a friendly, but nothing had ever been friendly between Louis and Y/N. Ever since first year, when they played their very first match against each other, they’d been bitter rivals. She was a chaser on the Ravenclaw quidditch team, and when she got hit by a bludger she became convinced that it was Louis, a Gryffindor beater, who had directed it towards her…which it was, but not on purpose. Well, not completely on purpose.
Knowing that he wouldn’t get back to sleep now, Louis decided to get an early morning run in before breakfast. It would help to burn off some of the nervous energy in his stomach, if nothing else.
He didn’t expect anyone else to be out that early – there was still mist rolling off the playing fields, and a dusky stain to the sky, like the night was trying to hold onto its last moments – so he was surprised when he caught a glimpse of another figure running towards him.
A figure he recognised all too well.
Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, clearly showing the blue highlights that had been in her hair ever since the sorting hat had placed her in Ravenclaw. She was wearing a pair of small running shorts and a plain white tank top, and if she wasn’t such a bitch Louis may have been forced to admit that she looked good. They both slowed to a stop as they approached each other.
“Preparing for your astounding defeat today?” she asked, pulling one headphone out and grinning at him.
“Oh, I think you’ve got me confused with someone else,” Louis cocked his head to the side, looking down at the small and freakishly annoying female in front of him, “let me introduce myself – I’m the one who’s going to be handing you your ass on a plate later.”
The laugh she let out was loud and brash and harsh in the still morning air.
“Whatever Tomlinson,” she waved her hand dismissively, “I’ll see you on the pitch.”
As she moved to put her headphone back in Louis caught her arm.
“Let’s make this interesting,” his blue eyes flashed dangerously at his new idea.
“You want to make a bet?” she raised an eyebrow, taking a few moments to think it through, “okay, name your terms.”
“Loser has to hold a party for the winning team in their common room,” Louis grinned, “and wear the winning team’s colours to it.”
“Done,” Y/N grinned, putting her hand out for Louis to shake, “I can’t wait to see the infamous Gryffindor common room…is it true that you have Harry Potter’s old broom on display in there?”
“You’ll have to try your very best to find out,” Louis winked, “now, you’d better get back to your dorm and start picking out a red and gold outfit…”
*****
“Louis! Thanks so much for this – it’s always nice to be able to celebrate a win,” Y/N smiled broadly as Louis opened the door to the Gryffindor common room to the large group of students (mostly Ravenclaws, with a few Hufflepuffs and Slytherins thrown in for good measure) stood outside.
“No problem,” Louis said through gritted teeth, “come on in guys.”
Y/N paused next to Louis, allowing the rest of the crowd to go past into the large room.
“You look good in blue,” she winked, pulling her trench coat off and handing it to him, “would you be able to hang that up for me?”
She sauntered off, enjoying every second of her superiority to Louis, and he was left gaping at her back.
The party got going quickly – house rivalries were mainly confined to the Quidditch pitch these days, and the atmosphere was relaxed, with the houses mingling together. Louis was trying to enjoy himself too, playing a game of beer pong with some of the other Quidditch players, but he kept getting distracted. By her.
She wasn’t even doing anything – she was sat on the arm of one of their big armchairs, her legs draped across some guy’s lap while they had a conversation with a few others, sat in various positions in other armchairs. The guy had one hand resting gently (protectively?) over her ankles, the other curled slightly behind her back, keeping her steady whenever she laughed that crazy loud laugh. Louis had seen her around with the dark haired male before (Wayne? Zack? He couldn’t really remember – he definitely wasn’t a Quidditch player, and therefore wasn’t on Louis’ radar), but he was pretty sure that the two were just friends.
While the rest of the Ravenclaws formed a uniform sea of blue, she had of course chosen to be different, standing out from the crowd in a bronze lace dress, her hair curled around her face and a gold eagle necklace perched proudly on her neck...but it wasn’t the way she looked that was distracting Louis (honestly, he had barely noticed the cleavage that formed the eagle’s resting place, or the long tan legs accentuated by ridiculously high, gravity defying heels, or the way the dress cinched in at the waist, giving her curves that weren’t there when she wore her robes...) it was that damn laugh.
“Are you okay Louis?” Harry, his team mate in both Quidditch and the current beer pong tournament slung an arm around his shoulder as he spoke, “you’ve missed the last three times.”
“I know,” Louis snapped, his competitive streak paired with the Bungbarrel Spiced Mead coursing through his bloodstream making him angrier than normal, “it’s that laugh. I can’t concentrate with her making so much fucking noise…”
And with that Louis was off, stalking towards the armchairs with fire in his veins, leaving Harry to yell questions at his back.
Y/N smiled as he approached, oblivious to the fact that she was the most infuriating woman in the world, and began to say something to him.
He cut her off by grabbing her arm and pulling her off the chair and onto her feet.
“What the hell?!” the guy who she was sat with was up straight away, advancing towards Louis.
“It’s okay Zayn,” Y/N put a calming hand on his chest, stilling him immediately, “I’m fine.”
She flipped her hair back over her shoulder (and somehow the action made Louis angrier and he was seeing fucking stars because this girl…this girl was doing all she could to make him mad, he knew it) and turned back to Louis, her face a picture of innocence.
“Shall we go for a walk Louis?”
The small girl placed a firm hand on Louis’ arm and pulled him in the direction of the stairs that led to the Gryffindor boy’s dorms, flashing a warning glare at her friend (Zayn, had she said?) as he began to follow them.
“You need to stop,” Louis practically snarled, pulling his arm out of her steady grip when they were one floor up, on the hallway outside the first year’s room.
“Stop what?” Y/N frowned in confusion, “I haven’t spoken to you all night.”
“You need to stop all of this,” Louis gestured at her, in her entirety, “your laugh is obnoxiously loud, and you’re a tiny person so you really shouldn’t be able to make that much noise and…fucking hell, Y/N, you’ve never looked like this before. You’re all legs and lips and you smell good and I don’t understand when you became a girl, instead of just a Quidditch player-”
He was cut off by her lips smashing against his. Surprise was followed by fireworks somewhere behind his eyes as he wrapped two strong hands around her waist and felt his anger give way to…well, to this. To teeth and tongues and to pushing her up against the wall so that they could just do this for the rest of the night.
And just at that moment when her hands snuck underneath his tan braces, fluttering over his (stupid, Ravenclaw coloured) blue t shirt to trace the taut muscles in his stomach…her friend arrived.
“Y/N, are you…okay…” he trailed off as the couple jumped apart, red faced, lips swollen, both trying to catch their breath.
“Zayn,” Y/N smiled shakily, attempting to compose herself as she fixed her blurry gaze on her dark haired friend (and Louis really hoped that he was right with the word ‘friend’ because there was no way he was focused enough to get into a fight right now), “we were just…uh…we were…”
She trailed off, speechless for the first time in five years, and that thought made Louis smirk despite the current situation.
Liam had only ever been sent to the headmistress’ office once in his entire five years at Hogwarts, and that was only because he was witness to an irate Ravenclaw girl casting the jelly legs jinx on another student (who, if he was being honest, probably deserved it). This visit made it up to two, and he had no idea what this one was about. He was a model student – a Prefect who was almost definitely going to be Head Boy when he hit his seventh year, set to get Outstanding in all ten of his O.W.L.s (and more than likely five Outstanding N.E.W.T. grades when the time came), and as far as he could remember there had been no trouble during any of his patrols recently.
“No need to look so worried Mr Payne,” Professor McGonagall smiled as he entered her office, “you’re not in any trouble.”
He let out half a sigh of relief before noticing that there was someone else in the room…and then quickly coming to the realisation that the someone else was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. His sigh got caught in his throat and he choked a little, forgetting basic survival skills at the sight of her.
“Please, take a seat,” McGonagall gestured to the chair next to the vision of beauty that was currently giving him problems with his breathing (and blinking, and probably numerous other essential bodily functions that he had no idea about).
“Mr Payne, this is Y/N. She’s just transferred from Beauxbatons Academy and the sorting hat has placed her in Hufflepuff. Would you be able to take her down to her dorm and give her a quick tour of the school please? I’ll make sure your teachers for the afternoon are informed.”
“O-of course,” Liam attempted to speak, although it was not an easy task considering that he had only just gotten his breathing under control, “can I carry your suitcase for you?”
He gestured to the small case at the girl’s feet.
“Thank you,” she smiled, her French accent shining through.
As they made their way through the long corridors down to the Hufflepuff Basement Liam tried desperately to think of something to say…it was strange for him to be struggling so much, because he was not a shy person by nature. Normally he would chat nonsense until the person he was with stopped him (often bodily, with a hand pressed to his mouth), but today he was drawing a blank.
“All these corridors – I think I will lose myself quickly,” the girl walking beside him apparently wasn’t suffering from the same mental block as him.
“You get used to them,” he smiled, feeling more like himself now that she’d broken the silence, “it’s the staircases you really have to worry about. Once, I walked up a staircase that I could have sworn led to the library, and I ended up in the Owlery – not a room you want to be spending any time in, let me tell you-”
He was cut off by a giggle from Y/N (and Liam was no good at imagery, but he could have sworn that it sounded exactly like pixie dust).
“You speak fast,” she explained as he turned to her, “and my English isn’t good.”
“It’s very good!” Liam exclaimed, “trust me, I understand you a lot better than you’d understand me if I tried to speak French.”
They continued their journey down towards the Hufflepuff common room – now that Liam felt more relaxed, he pointed out some of the statues and paintings that had particularly interesting stories, enjoying the ability to make Y/N smile with his chatter.
“Annd this is home,” he smiled as he led the new student into the warm room where he and his friends spent most of their time.
“It’s lovely,” Y/N looked around her in awe, taking in the many species of plants that hung from every available nook, as well as the general décor of the room. She looked back at Liam, smiling shyly.
“I think I’ll enjoy being a Hufflepuff.”
*****
“What did you get for question three? I put mandrake, but I wasn’t sure,” Liam quizzed Y/N as they walked towards the Herbology greenhouses with the rest of their friends.
“I put mandrake too,” Y/N reassured him, easing the worried frown on his face.
“You know, you don’t have to get every answer correct,” Niall inputted, slapping Liam on the shoulder as he spoke.
“I know,” Liam laughed lightly.
“Excuse me,” their cheerful procession was halted by a sixth year Slytherin boy tapping Y/N on the shoulder.
“Hello?” she stopped and turned to face the older boy.
“I was just wondering if you might be free to come to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday,” he flashed his pearly whites in a wide grin.
“Oh, um…I don’t know,” Y/N looked around at the rest of the group, her eyes lingering on Liam, “do we have any plans?”
Niall nudged his friend, urging him to say something.
“No, we don’t,” Liam announced finally, after a long pause, “I mean, I have a prefect’s shift during the day, so I won’t even be going to Hogsmeade.”
That was not what Niall had wanted him to say. Disappointment flashed across Y/N’s face, but she covered it quickly with a small smile.
“Well then I guess I’m free to go with you,” she turned back to the Slytherin boy.
“You’re an idiot,” Niall hissed, giving his friend a whack around the head.
*****
“So, I hear you’ve been an idiot,” the Ravenclaw fifth year that Liam was on prefect’s patrol with that Saturday minced no words. She was good friends with the female fifth year Hufflepuff prefect (which meant she was good friends with Niall, because you couldn’t have one and not the other) and apparently Liam’s (complete and utter lack of a) love life had been the topic of their recent discussions.
“People keep saying that to me,” Liam frowned, keeping half an eye on the small group of first years that were gathered at the end of the corridor.
“Well maybe people are right,” the girl laughed, ruffling his hair. She quickly turned her attention to the same group of students Liam had been eyeing, “hey kids, gonna need you to step away from the secret passage.”
The first years froze.
“It’s blocked anyway,” the Ravenclaw prefect carried on, dropping her voice to a stage whisper, “you want to try the one outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.”
The group of younger students skulked away, leaving the older girl laughing behind them.
“You shouldn’t be telling them where the secret passages are,” Liam scolded.
“Oh relax,” she rolled her eyes, “it’s not like I gave them the password…anyway, back to the matter at hand. You’re an idiot.”
Before Liam could refute her claim he was interrupted by a familiar French accent floating down the corridor.
“Thanks for walking me back.”
“It’s no problem…if I hadn’t tipped that butter beer down you then you wouldn’t have had to come back early anyway.”
As Y/N and her Slytherin date rounded the corner the Ravenclaw prefect grabbed Liam’s wrist and pulled him part way down the secret passage that they were stood in front of – far enough that they wouldn’t be noticed, but close enough to get a view of what was happening in the corridor. She was a quick thinker that girl.
“I’ve had a really nice day anyway, even if it was shorter than I planned,” the Slytherin boy was really turning on the charm, his arm wrapped tightly around Y/N’s shoulders.
“Yeah, me too,” Y/N’s reply was far less enthusiastic, “but I really need to get these clothes off now, otherwise they’re going to stain.”
“I’m sure I can help with that,” the boy stopped their journey down the corridor, his voice low.
Liam clenched his jaw, trying to restrain himself from jumping out and forcibly splitting the couple up.
The Slytherin boy leaned down, obviously attempting a kiss, but Y/N dodged out of his way.
“I need to get back to my common room,” she tried again, edging her way backwards.
“But mine is so much closer,” the Slytherin boy practically groaned out his answer, pushing himself up against Y/N as he did.
She carried on her retreat until she couldn’t go any further, her back pressed against the stone wall.
The older boy smirked and leaned his head down again, knowing that Y/N couldn’t escape this time…
Before Liam could think about what he was doing he had left his hiding place and his fist had connected with the smug Slytherin jaw, sending the taller boy reeling back.
*****
That was the third time Liam got sent to the headmistress’ office. At least he knew what it was for this time.
“Did you get expelled?”
To Liam’s immense surprise (and secret delight) Y/N was waiting for him when he got out.
“No, I have detention with Hagrid,” Liam laughed nervously, “which might actually be worse.”
“He’ll have you exercising the pixies,” she agreed, giggling along with him.
As their laughs died down they stood in awkward silence, neither quite sure what to say.
“We should, uh…we should get back to the dorms,” Liam eventually muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
Y/N nodded in agreement and they both turned to walk down the corridor.
They had only walked five steps when Y/N slipped her hand through Liam’s.
Liam couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he pulled them to a stop, turning to face Y/N and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before carrying on, still hand in hand, as if nothing had changed.
Harry had been named after a great wizard. He knew this mostly because everyone in the entire wizarding world had heard of Potter, but also because his father was very fond of telling him. Styles Senior seemed to think that by giving Harry a great name, he could force him to become great.
It had not yet worked.
Harry's only discernible skills were that he could eat a sandwich faster than anyone else he knew, and that he was really good at annoying lots of people really quickly. Neither of these were traits commonly found in great people as far as he was aware. This is not to say that he wasn’t extremely proud of them – in fact, they were his two favourite things about himself. Unfortunately his father didn’t share this pride in his modest accomplishments.
Harry had at least managed to shoehorn himself into Gryffindor house (by virtue of a constant head chant of 'not Hufflepuff' over all of the sorting hat's arguments for the other house) and get a spot on the Quidditch team thanks to his best friend Louis, who had somehow fashioned a reasonable Beater out of the uncoordinated train wreck of a flier that Harry actually was.
For now, that was enough to keep his dad off his back...but if he failed one of his O.W.L.s, it wouldn't be. Which is why Harry was now sat in the library on a Saturday listening to a Slytherin girl drone on about the dangers of undetectable poisons.
"Styles, did you take in anything that I just said?" she questioned, looking at him sharply.
"Of course I did!" Harry tried to sound defensive in his answer, but went too far and hit guilty.
"Okay, why are undetectable poisons dangerous?"
"Because you can't tell they're there," Harry rolled his eyes at the shock she showed when he got it right, "failing potions doesn't mean that I've forgotten how to speak English Y/N – the answer is right there in the question!”
Y/N changed the subject – unfortunately the history of the strengthening solution was no more interesting to Harry than the dangers of undetectable poisons, and she commanded no more of his attention.
In childhood Y/N and Harry had been pseudo-friends…both coming from long pure-blood lineages, both with overambitious fathers employed in the Wizengamot, both coerced into play dates more beneficial to social standing than actual fun. They had spent exactly as much time together as their parents had decreed, and when they got to Hogwarts they cheerfully stopped acknowledging each other’s existence.
Y/N had inherited her Slytherin father’s ambition, and her Ravenclaw mother's intelligence to back it up. She was formidable – easily the top of all her classes, taking extra electives wherever she was allowed. Harry had asked her to tutor him while firmly believing that she would say no, but Y/N had seen Harry’s request as a challenge. She never backed away from a challenge.
She had made it quite obvious that she wouldn’t be tolerating any of Harry’s laziness, an implication which he found quite insulting. He wasn’t lazy – he broke rules in elaborate and time consuming ways all the time – he just wasn’t particularly interested in stupid potions.
"Styles!” she again interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back into the library with an abruptness that actually startled him.
"I was listening!" he defended, not even sure why he was trying to lie.
"I asked you the same question three times," Y/N shook her head, "maybe you'll find it easier to learn if we just start making the potions. I'll ask Slughorn if we can use the classroom next weekend."
"Maybe you should ask if you can borrow the classroom and not mention my name at all," Harry suggested, smirking at the memory of the prank he and Louis had played on the Potion’s professor back in third year…to be fair on the boys, they had no idea that the blast-ended skeet would actually destroy the potion’s supply cupboard, but Slughorn still held a bit of a grudge against to two trouble-making Gryffindors.
*****
Y/N gave Harry strict instructions to meet her at exactly 11am in the potions classroom…he finally made it out of bed at 11:03. Luckily he was no stranger to being late, and managed to shower in record time and even grab himself some breakfast, straight out of Louis’ hands as he ran past him on his way down to the dungeons.
Y/N had obviously started without him – she was leaning over a cauldron, fully engrossed in her potion brewing.
Harry paused in the doorway to watch her for a few seconds. Her face was a picture of concentration – hair swept up into a messy ponytail, eyes narrowed, tongue poking out slightly just at the corner of her mouth…it was actually pretty adorable.
“Sorry I’m late,” he tried to look as charming as he could when he finally built up the courage to interrupt her, “what are you brewing?”
“It’s a draught of peace,” Y/N replied, not looking up from her cauldron, “it’s one of the core potions on the fifth year syllabus.”
Harry watched her add the hellebore and noted that the potion in her cauldron looked exactly like the one in the textbook.
“You actually make potions look fun,” Harry grinned as she poured her finished product into a vial.
“It is fun,” Y/N actually allowed the ghost of a smile to cross her face just before she made eye contact with Harry, remembered where she was and forced the frown back over her features, “when I graduate I want to be a potioneer.”
“Really?!” Harry was truly surprised, “I thought you’d be following your Dad’s footsteps into the Wizengamot.”
Y/N’s face hardened an impossible fraction more as she tried to turn Harry into stone with her glare.
"You think my dream is to sit in a room with a bunch of self-important wizards who waste all their time congratulating each on how powerful they've managed to become while failing to use that power to do anything good in the world?"
"Well when you put it like that..." Harry attempted to lighten the situation with a joke, but Y/N had not finished.
"Why do all Gryffindors think that Slytherins just want to rule the world? I mean, I know we had He Who Must Not Be Named, but Gryffindors can be evil too! Just look at Peter Pettigrew."
Y/N finally took a breath, and while Harry knew that it was the exact opposite of the right thing to do at this moment in time, he couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up in his throat.
"What's so funny?" the Slytherin girl demanded, her face flushed from her tirade.
"You should have said all of that when we were kids," Harry grinned, "I probably wouldn't have thought you were such a stuck up pure blood if you had."
Y/N looked down at the floor. All of her previous passion had melted away and she looked so vulnerable that Harry had to force his arms to stay firmly against his side and not give her a comforting hug.
"I was too shy," she murmured, "and I thought you were cute and funny and I had the biggest crush on you."
Y/N's face was bright red, and Harry thought his own might split in two from the grin that he couldn't stop his lips from curving into. There must have been something very interesting on the floor, because the girl standing opposite him was staring at it intently.
"Had, or have?" he asked eventually, breaking the silence that had descended over them while he decided how best to play the situation.
Y/N shrugged noncommittally, still not looking up at Harry. It was all the response he needed.
In two long strides he was stood right in front of the embarrassed Slytherin beauty. He gently cupped her face with both of his hands and angled it up so that he could look into her eyes.
"You're kind of amazing," he smiled, bringing his nose down to touch hers, "and I'm not sure anyone's told you that before, so there you go."
He paused, leaning back slightly to take in the smile on her face. It was a million watt affair. As he moved his lips back towards hers for a perfectly searing kiss he couldn't stop himself from telling her one more time, mouthing the words against her lips.
