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only-angel-28 · 4 months

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mastermind, part nine

okay guys omg finally this chapter had me in a slump for literally months im so glad its over like💀🙏

anyways this ones lowkey short and i dont like it at all but its okay guys bc next chapter will be much better dw 😋🤞🤞

also reminder to please send me some requests bc im lowkey losing my mind w these exams and my brain space for original thought is taken up by cold war history material and i dont think anyone wants to read a theodore nott fic w kennedy as a side character💀💀

anyways enjoy this one pookies even though its v short and not v good, lets just be grateful its over and done with😍🙌

no warnings for this one

mastermind, masterlist

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We entered the blue-lit cafe hesitantly, cautious of our whereabouts. Harry slid into the red booth first on one side, quickly followed by me and Theodore with Hermione and Ron on the other side.

“What about all the people at the wedding?” Harry spoke up, looking around at all of us in worry, “Do you think we should go back?”

“They were after you mate,” Ron said with a shake of his head, “We’d put everyone in danger by going back.”

The moody waitress walks up to our booth, leaning on one leg with headphones in her ears.

“Coffee?” she asks us with a huff, diverting our attention from one another to the menu above the counter.

“A cappuccino please.” Hermione asks politely to which the waitress agrees curtly before asking the rest of us.

“Uhm…what she said,” Ron answers.

“Same,” Harry says.

“Me too.” I nod.

“Yeah, same.” Theo agrees.

She quickly turns around and moves to go back to the kitchen to prepare the five drinks as we quickly return to our plan.

“So, where do we go from here? Leaky Cauldron?” Ron asks as soon as she’s out of sight.

“No, it’s too dangerous.” Hermione shakes her head, “If Voldemort has taken over the ministry then none of the places are safe.”

I look around as everyone debates to try and come up with a game plan and notice the peeling paint on the wall and the dirty coffee machines. But what catches my attention is the two strange burly men who trudge into the cafe. They look around sinisterly and fix their eyes for a moment with us. Theodore seems to catch my gaze, quickly followed by Harry as they both yell “Down!” as the men start shooting spells at us.

“Stupefy!”

“Expulso!”

“Expelliarmus!”

“Petrificus totalus!”

We shoot spells left and right at the two men until finally, they’re unconscious.

The waitress walks out in worry as Hermione yells at her to go, I oblivate her as she walks out the back door in a hurry.

“Lock the door, get the lights,” Harry commands as Hermione and I start to shut down the shop and Ron gathers the lights in his deluminator. Theo walks up beside Harry, both looking down at the man on the floor.

“This one’s name’s Rowle.” Harry speaks up, not taking his eyes off the man, “He was on the astronomy tower the night Snape killed Dumbledore.”

Hermione and I come up behind Theo and Harry as they walk over to join Ron as he says, “This is Dolohov. I recognise him from the wanted posters.”

“What should we do with them?” I ask, looking around at everyone's worried faces.

“They’d kill us if it were the other way round, why don’t we kill them too?” Ron speaks up angrily.

“If we kill them, they’d know we were here,” Theo says, trying to calm Ron down.

Ron shakes his head, turning around to face the rest of us as Hermione warns, “Ron…”

“No, Suppose he did Mad-eye. How’d you feel then?” he snaps.

“It’s better we just wipe their memories,” I say, earning agreeing nods from Theo, Hermione and Harry.

“Fine. Whatever, you’re the boss.” Ron says, thankfully calmer now.

Hermione performs the charms as I open one of the doors so we can leave, and we walk out into the icy breeze of mid-winter London.

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We dodge and push our way through the iconic London underground, dimly lit orange lights paving our way and regular chatter and train railings filling our ears.

“How’d they know where we were anyway?” Harry asks, almost bumping into a lady with a pram and quickly apologising afterwards.

“Maybe you still have the trace on you?” Hermione brainstorms as she pulls Ron from bashing into an elderly couple.

“Can't be. Trace breaks at 17, it's wizarding law.” Harry says shortly, attracting mine and Hermione’s attention.

“What?” he says after Hermione and I gasp.

“We didn’t celebrate your birthday Harry,” I say solemnly. “We’d made a cake, we were going to bring it out at the end of the wedding.”

“Look, guys, honestly, I really appreciate the thought but seeing as we were just nearly killed by death eaters in a muggle cafe…” he dodges a group of small boys running around.

“Right,” Hermione says looking ahead, “Priorities.”

I smile, looking at Ron, remembering the thing he’d said in first year about Hermione needing to get her priorities straight before two strong arms pull me towards them. I look up as we keep walking and Theo releases me from his hold, I give him a questioning look as he points behind him to a woman running away in a hurry, whom Theo had avoided me from colliding with.

I give him a tight smile and mutter thanks before linking arms with Hermione and walking faster than the boys, thinking about where we were going to go from here.

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“Hermione what’s for dinner?!” Ron yells across the huge tent from his room.

Hermione rolls her eyes and shouts back, “Soup!” as I laugh next to her, making tea and coffee for all of us. The tent is surprisingly comfortable with lots of room to move around and quite a relaxing ambiance which is useful for our constant nerves.

I pass Hermione her tea and carry the other cups to the living room where Harry and Theodore are, sitting on the sofas going over the plans for the next few weeks and trying to work out where the other horcruxes may be. Ron’s in his room trying to put his clothes away which is a first.

I take my cup of coffee from the table as the boys take theirs and sit in the armchair with the book Dumbledore gave her, reading it and re-reading it again and again as the night goes on. Harry and Theo’s conversations drone out as Hermione’s soup brings rest and my eyelids fall heavy.

I stir awake slightly when I feel Theo carry me to my room; I peek an eye at him as he takes my shoes off for me and tucks me in. He goes behind me and undoes my hair, brushing it gently and loosely attempting to braid it before pecking me on the cheek gently and leaving as quietly as he could.

The next morning I walk down to the kitchen to find Theo making breakfast for everyone. We haven’t spoken properly since last night at the wedding and even that conversation was cut short. He looks up at me with his watercolour eyes and flashes a soft smile which I return. I take a seat on one of the counters as he works, flipping pancakes and spreading nutella on others. He has soft music playing on the radio which helps make the silence less awkward. I decide to break it as I joke, “Since when did you learn to make pancakes?”

He looks up at me with a grin and looks back down to his pancake as he responds, “Since the day you told me you liked them.”

His response leaves me stunned and I look down thinking back to one of our morning study sessions in the library when I complained about how much I’d rather be eating a massive stack of pancakes at that moment rather than studying. He’d joked back to me with a sly smirk, ‘Is it so bad to be studying with me?’ to which I had responded by kissing him.

“Here.” His deep voice breaks me from my thoughts as I look down and see him with a plate of pancakes for me with my favourite toppings. The gesture floods me with nothing but bliss and I accept the plate, jumping down from the counter and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. I smirk as his neck reddens and he shoves me away jokingly to eat my food.

“So,” I start as we both sit next to one another on the large sofas, each nursing a plate of pancakes and a cup of coffee.

“So,” He responds, “Do you want some maple syrup?”

“Ew no, maple syrup with nutella? Theo are you mad, I’m not Ron.” I laugh as he joins in.

“What?” I say, noticing him falling quiet after a moment and staring at me.

“You called me Theo.” He says plainly with a slight grin, making me blush profusely.

Even though his leaving was heartbreaking for me, the fact that he came back and is trying to do better means the world to me. I thought I may have liked him before in Hogwarts, but reading all those letters he’d sent me day after day with no reciprocated response and seeing how gentle he had been with me these past few days and seeing him sitting across from me now laughing about another stupid joke I made had made me realise I’m falling for him. Hard.

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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

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Love your dad! Series! Can I please have some good dad Satan? Angst is okay as long as Satan is ultimately good.

Engulfed (Dad!Satan x F!Reader)

A/N : Another Brothertiger song as the title... Whoo! yes it's kind of like a plug because his songs are really good Word Count : 2.2K TW: pregnancy ; maternity ; children ; babies ; child birth;

Children were never a topic of interest for him. They were loud, dirty, and obnoxious. They would ruin his books and he would never have time to read them, he would never have time for you. Why anyone would ever want a child was beyond him, but it was never a topic that he felt he had to bring up. What were the chances that a child would actually be created between the two of you? It was biologically impossible, you weren’t even the same species, it shouldn’t have even been a concern, and it wasn’t, it truly wasn’t… until now.

Things seemed the same… but they weren’t. There were slight differences that an average human wouldn’t have picked up on, but he could see it, he could sense it, he could feel it. “When was the last time you got your… period?” He asked, peaking over the top of his book to look at you, curled up on his bed as you scrolled through your phone. You probably didn’t even notice anything yet, maybe he was just reading into things, but there was nothing wrong with being certain. You groaned, rolling over to turn away from him. “I don’t know, Satan… I don’t want to talk… I’m bloated and I don’t feel good. I’ll probably get it soon… so leave me alone.” You grumbled, pulling the blanket up around yourself before continuing to scroll through your phone, leaving Satan confused and kind of irritated that you snapped at him like that for a simple question, but he was accrediting it to premenstrual symptoms, he was hoping that’s all it was. Days continued to pass and you had yet to get your period, and the differences that he saw in you were only growing more prominent. You were sleeping more, and you’d wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and he was starting to get worried. He wasn’t even sure how long it’s been since the two of you did anything, you’ve been so moody and tired lately that he’s been mainly avoiding you so you wouldn’t snap at him, but now he needed to know. “Satan…” You said his name quietly, peaking your head out of the bedroom door as he was on his way up. Maybe you had just gotten your period and he had nothing to worry about, but he could see the wetness around your eyes, the light from inside the room glinting off the streaks that ran down your cheeks. “Something’s wrong…” You mumbled once he got close enough, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the room. “My… My boobs hurt…” He eye’d you curiously, slowly moving his gaze down to your chest before looking back at your face. “Did you… sleep on them?” Surely that would explain it, right? Or maybe you were just having chest pains and saying it was your boobs. There were a lot of reasons for you to think they hurt. You shook your head no and he sighed, walking over to you and gently cupping your cheek, hoping that you wouldn’t bite his head off when he asks this time. “When was the last time you got your period?” Your eyes dropped to look down at your feet, slightly moving away from him as you pursed your lips. “Ten…” He didn’t understand. Days? Weeks? Ten what? He kept staring at you as he waited for you to give him a timeframe that he’d actually be able to understand. “Weeks… Nine weeks… I was counting… And I… I thought I was just a little late… I didn’t realize…” You fell back on the bed, hiding your face in your hands. “Dammit…” He mumbled, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to think of what to do. It wasn’t your fault, he knew that. He couldn’t get mad at you for it, he’d have to be mad at himself too. There was still the possibility though that you were just… off. He was holding onto that, it was like the last single strand of thread that he had to cling onto. “It’s alright… We’re not sure. We’ve got to be sure… And then we can think of something, alright?” He was trying to stay hopeful, not just for you, but for himself too. It was all he could do.

Going up to the human world was last on his list of things he wanted to do, but they’d know more about the human body than any demon would, and they’d have the tools necessary to figure it out faster. He was trying to stay calm, giving you soft smiles and temple kisses as you sat in the waiting room of the OBGYN, his hand held tightly in his own as you rested your head on his shoulder, waiting for your name to be called. “You’ll come back with me… right?” You asked nervously, swallowing thickly as your eyes flickered across the other woman in the room. He nodded slowly, patting your thigh to try to calm you down. “Of course… You’ll be fine. Everything’s gonna be okay…” At least he hoped it would be. He wasn’t really sure what he would do if you were… pregnant. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be a dad, he didn’t even know how to be a dad. Your name was called and he followed you back into the room, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall, listening to you answer all the questions that the doctor asked you. He already knew something was off though, not by the way you looked though, it was the way he felt. As he watched the doctor poke at your stomach, he had to fight the urge to growl, the strong need to throw the doctor across the room and keep them as far away from you as possible. “So is she pregnant or not?” He asked through gritted teeth, his fists clenched tightly in his pockets, his nails digging into his palms. “Well… By what she’s told me, she could be… But she could also just be very late, which can be caused by emotional changes or environmental changes. I’d like to do a sonogram, is that alright?” The doctor looked to you, and you nodded quickly. It would be the quickest way to find out, and you’d be able to see it yourself, and so would Satan.

You sat on the bed in his room back in the Devildom, the pictures still folded in your hands as you watched him. He was leaning against the wall, deep in thought as he chewed at his thumbnail. “Please say something…” You whispered. The nervousness you felt in the waiting room was nothing compared to how you felt right now. He hadn’t spoken at all since it had been confirmed and you didn’t know what he was feeling. “I’m… I’m sorry?” You weren’t sure what for, but hearing you say it had him dropping his hand from his mouth and walking over to you. “You don’t have to… It’s not… Don’t get worked up about it, okay? I’m gonna… I’ll be right back.” He swallowed thickly, leaning down to kiss the top of your head before leaving the room. You weren’t sure where he was going or what he was doing, but you sat there and you waited. You waited for him to come back, you waited for what felt like forever. There was never a call or a text, there was nothing, and the hours passed on and on until you finally got up from the bed and went to find him. There was no sign of him around though, and it even seemed like the brothers were trying to avoid you, their eyes averting whenever you entered the room, but you weren’t looking for any of them. You were looking for Satan who was nowhere to be found. “Do you know where he is? Did he go out?” The door to Lucifer’s office was half open, his fingers drumming across his desk as he stared at nothing in particular. It was clear that he knew something, and he knew something that he didn’t want you to know, or maybe you weren’t supposed to know. “Lucifer…? Where is he?” He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his hands over his face as he shook his head, pushing himself away from his desk to get up, walking over to you quickly. “He said he needed to go. I sent him up, he said he’d be back soon, but I know him. He told me what’s going on…” His eyes glanced down to your stomach and then back up to your face. “He told me to look after you, which was strange. He never asks me to do anything, so he must be pretty conflicted.” You were dumbfounded, to say the least… He had left. He had just up and left. Was it too much for him to handle? Did he not take into consideration how you might feel right now? How selfish could he possibly be? He needed to go? He had left you alone when you were the most vulnerable, when you needed him the most… he had left. You didn’t even know how to react, you didn’t know what to do. You surely couldn’t do this on your own. How long was he planning on even being gone? He said he’d be right back… How soon would that be? Days passed and they soon turned to weeks, then they turned to months. Lucifer had kept his promise of looking after you even though you knew he didn’t really want to. It wasn’t exactly for Satan, it was more so for you. He thought that what Satan did was immature, childish, and irresponsible. He never said it around you, but you could hear him complaining about it to his other brothers and it only made you feel worse. You tried to find any reason, any excuse for him, to explain away what he did and why he did it because you didn’t want to be upset with him, you didn’t want to doubt him.

You sat in your room, looking down at your daughter who was swaddled snugly in her blankets. You hadn’t been alone when you had her, but no matter who was in the room, it still felt empty. He wasn’t there, he still hadn’t returned. You had given up hope that he ever would, and you had shifted your focus onto the baby girl that depended on you, that needed you. The door to your bedroom creaked quietly, and you didn’t bother to look up. “Did I leave the sink running again? I’m sorry, Lucifer… I’m…” You were tired, running until the early hours of the morning with your daughter. You had no help, and you didn’t ask for the others to help, and even when they offered you’d decline. It wasn’t their job to fill in the blanks that Satan left, and you knew that you’d shortly adjust to doing things on your own. “I don’t think you did. Do you do it often?” Your head whipped up at the sound of his voice, his smile was sheepish and his eyes were soft as he looked at you. One of his hands was filled with pink, gold, and green gift bags, and the other hand had shiny pink balloons that bounced against the ceiling as he walked closer. He saw the way you eyed him, surely confused about how he even knew that you had given birth to a girl and he shook his head, sighing softly. “I kept in touch with Lucifer the whole time… I needed to know you were okay… He told me.” You let out an incredulous laugh, blinking a few times to really be sure that he was there. “You were gone…” You bit your lip, not wanting to lose your temper on him, not wanting to chase him away, but it wasn’t fair that he just got to show up at the end of everything. It wasn’t fair to you, not at all. “You were gone the whole time. You missed everything…” You whispered, taking a deep breath as you picked your daughter up and held her close to your chest. He took it as an opportunity to sit down, taking the spot where she once was, his eyes lighting up slightly when he saw her in your arms. “I’m sorry. I needed time to think and… I didn’t know what to do…” He reached his hand out to brush his thumb over her head, smiling softly when he felt the little bit of peach fuzz that was growing. “It was selfish… And it wasn’t okay for me to leave you.” He took a deep breath, moving his hand from her head to cup your cheek. “I’m here now… and I want to be here. I want to be here with you… and her…” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before resting his own against it, closing his eyes and seeming to finally relax. “I’ll never leave again… I love you... Will you forgive me?”

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

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Written In The Stars CXXII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I think the second half of this book is my best work yet. I know I always say this and that’s bc I’m always getting better -Danny

Words: 4,073

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Twenty: St. Mungo's.

At five in the morning the mood hadn't changed much in the room, Fred had fallen asleep on her shoulder, George and Ginny were across, staring intently at some point on the wall, Ron kept his face hidden behind his hands.

Harry and Sirius would look around the room with a lost air, unsure of what their part in this whole thing was. Mel and her mother had the same worried expression, none of them was known to be patient, but they didn't have a choice, they were all waiting...

Mel was worried about Mr Weasley, but she was also worried about her uncle back in the castle, about Umbridge and how she'd react to the missing Gryffindor students... She was also worried about Erick, all alone and having to deal with the death of the man he'd admired his whole life.

That was all Mel could feel at its fullest lately, no happiness was lasting, no bliss was ever-present. Mel was in a constant state of worry and distress, part of it because of her own trauma, and because all around her there was simply no safe place where to hold on to.

Mrs Weasley came rushing through the door. Mel stared at the woman, trying to find any hints of the possible news. She didn't have to wait for long, though.

"He's going to be all right," The woman said. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."

Fred sat back beside her with heaviness, Mel pulled him closer with one arm and hugged him sideways, George and Ginny stood up and hugged their mother tightly. Ron finished his butterbeer, his usual colour slowly going back to his face.

"Breakfast!" said Sirius, standing up with newfound energy. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER! Oh, forget it, then. So it's breakfast for — let's see — nine... Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast —"

Harry got up swiftly and walked over to the stove, clearly wanting to be of use in a room where he felt he had no place to take. He was wrong. Mrs Weasley made her way to the boy and took the plates out of his hands, encasing him in a fierce hug.

"I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been for you, Harry. They might not have found Arthur for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore's been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you've no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis..."

Before Harry had a chance to reply, she let him go and turned to Sirius and Emily.

"Oh, I'm so grateful... They think he'll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer... Of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas..."

"The more the merrier!" Sirius smiled openly at the woman. Emily nodded in agreement.

Mel knew Sirius loathed having to spend all his time inside the house, even with the company of Emily it surely was annoying, having nothing to do given the circumstances of his life.

"Sirius," Harry moved closer to the man and whispered something Mel couldn't quite hear.

Sirius gave the boy a funny look and followed him to the pantry. Mel felt the irresistible need to follow them as well, but she figured, whatever Harry wanted to talk about in private was not her business, not anymore. That much she'd said to him a few hours ago.

Fred stirred in his place and finally moved away from her grip, hastily cleaning his face before anyone could notice, Mel pretended not to see for his benefit.

"I'm going to help my mum with breakfast," She told him. "I'm happy your dad's well."

Fred nodded, half-listening to the girl. When she moved over to get something out of a shelf, she listened to Harry's voice coming from the little room next to her.

"Sirius, I... I think I'm going mad... Back in Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey... for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake, I felt like one — my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore — Sirius, I wanted to attack him —"

"It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all. You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and —"

"It wasn't that. It was like something rose up inside me, like there's a snake inside me —"

Dumbledore's words felt heavier than before, if Harry was truly affected by some kind of dark magic... it reminded her when Ginny started to act strange, when she'd been...

"Possessed," Mel whispered.

The door to the pantry opened abruptly and Sirius walked out of it causing her to jump, Mel directed herself to the stove, doing her best to not look back to where she knew Harry was currently standing.

She listened to Ginny's slow breathing unable to fall asleep. Her mind was replaying every moment of the last few months after the third task, trying to see if there were any hints that could point to a possession.

Mel thought hard about every time she had touched the boy, which to be fair, wasn't that many. Harry was acting up more often, that much was true, but who wouldn't after the hell he'd been through? Everyone had a limit, and Harry's got surpassed by a wide difference.

She didn't want to think about this, but she couldn't ignore it, not when it could lead to some of her friends getting hurt. It wasn't that she didn't trust Harry, but once again, Ginny was absolutely trustworthy and yet she'd petrified Hermione without meaning to. It could've ended worse if it weren't because Hermione got the answer on time.

When it finally was time for lunch Mel followed everyone downstairs with very little energy. No one but Harry seemed to notice, and that only because he too hadn't slept. Mel was once again torn between her duty and her personal interests. On one side, she felt she owed to her uncle to pay close attention, but that meant staying as close as possible, and that was something she didn't want to do.

Maybe it wasn't about being close physically, maybe she just had to get closer to his head. That one she could do without having to spend time with him. Legilimency and Occlumency.

That afternoon they were meant to visit Mr Weasley, the trip could be useful, she could stand next to Harry and try to perceive if his energy had changed. It was hard work, and she couldn't fully trust in the little trick, but right now that was all she had.

An hour later and an awkward train ride with Tonks and Moody, she found herself entering 'ST. Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries' through the glass of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

The things Mel saw in the waiting room were certified to give her nightmares, or at least, very peculiar fever dreams. A group of wizards and witches were walking around the rows of people writing down things on clipboards and asking questions about their symptoms. Beside her, she heard Harry asked Ron if those were doctors.

"Doctors?" Ron asked in a tone of bewilderment. "Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers."

"Hey, they're not nutters!" Mel argued. "Muggles can't heal each other magically, they had to find their own solutions..."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron rolled her eyes. "Look, mum's there!"

"Over here!" Mrs Weasley called from the line where she was standing.

Behind the desk, she saw the portrait of Dilys, the witch that was also inside Dumbledore's office. Mel timidly waved at her, the witch did a quick count to make sure all the Weasleys were there along with Harry and Mel and she discretely returned Mel's greeting, disappearing from her portrait right after that.

"It's these — ouch — shoes my brother gave me — ow!" A man at the front of the line caught her attention. "— they're eating my — OUCH — feet — look at them, there must be some kind of — AARGH — jinx on them and I can't — AAAAARGH — get them off —"

"The shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?" said the witch at the front desk. "You want Spell Damage, fourth floor. Just like it says on the floor guide. Next!"

Two more people went before them, one worried father holding a little girl by the ankle, with fluffy white wings coming out of her back, and one man that was there looking for a wizard that apparently was confused to the point he was sure he was a teapot.

"Hello," Mrs Weasley said when they arrived at the front. "My husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us — ?"

"Arthur Weasley? Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn ward."

"Thank you. Come on, you lot."

They followed through the halls and Mel continued to look around curiously, she probably had a funny dreamy look on her face, because Ron nudged her side, smirking.

"What now, you're adding 'Healer' to the list of jobs you want when you grow up?"

Mel snorted.

"No! Didn't you see all the crazy things happening in the waiting room? I wouldn't get used to that! I'm afraid that even though I've spent years as a witch now, at heart I'm still a muggle."

"Give it time, Lady," George replied. "It's been like what, four years? You won't even remember your life without magic after a decade living like a witch."

For some reason, that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She loved being a witch, but her muggle life wasn't something she wanted to forget, especially when it had been the best years of her friendship with Harry...

Why did her mind insist on bringing Harry to every discussion?

"We'll wait outside, Molly," Tonks said. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once... It ought to be just the family first."

Harry and Mel immediately stepped back, but Mrs Weasley reached out to get Harry and the twins grabbed her by the arms, pulling her along.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thank you..."

"And there's no way you're staying behind," Fred said playfully. "Dad would love to see her daughter-in-law..."

"If you keep saying that you'll end up believing it," Mel warned him.

"I bet my parents would rather have you as a daughter instead of this bad copy of me," George teased.

"Who are you calling a copy, you idiot?" Fred reached to hit his brother, but George hid behind her. "Everyone knows I'm more attractive than you!"

"You two stop fighting!" Mrs Weasley hissed. "This is a hospital room! Please act your age!"

The three of them stopped, trembling with contained laughter as they reached Mr Weasley's bed.

"Hello!" The man called happily. "Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later..."

"How are you, Arthur? You're still looking a bit peaky..."

"I feel absolutely fine, if they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."

"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," Mr Weasley reached for his wand, and with one wave he conjured a couple of chairs for them to sit on. "It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open... They're sure they'll find an antidote, though, they say they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour. But that fellow over there," He lowered his voice and pointed to the man in front of them. "Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all."

"A werewolf?" Mrs Weasley turned to look at the man with wide eyes. "Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a private room?"

"It's two weeks till full moon. They've been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he'll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn't mention names, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage..."

"What did he say?" asked George.

"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up. And that woman over there won't tell the Healers what bit her, which makes us all think it must have been something she was handling illegally. Whatever it was took a real chunk out of her leg, very nasty smell when they take off the dressings."

Mel's eyes stayed on the man laying ahead of them. The newborn werewolf, a man who was probably completely fine before being bitten. Was it really two weeks before the full moon? That wasn't ideal, she wanted to see her uncle, she was missing him lots already, and having half a week wasted because of his condition made her feel terribly for him.

"So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, you already know, don't you? It's very simple — I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on, and bitten."

"Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?" asked Fred.

"No, of course not, the Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirty great serpent got —"

"Arthur!" said Mrs Weasley.

"— got — er — me," Mr Weasley finished.

"So where were you when it happened, Dad?" asked George.

"That's my business," said Mr Weasley calmly, "I was just reading about Willy Widdershins's arrest when you arrived. You know Willy turned out to be behind those regurgitating toilets last summer? One of his jinxes backfired, the toilet exploded, and they found him lying unconscious in the wreckage covered from head to foot in —"

"When you say you were 'on duty,'" Fred interrupted in a low voice, "what were you doing?"

"You heard your father," Mrs Weasley hissed, "we are not discussing this here! Go on about Willy Widdershins, Arthur —"

"Well, don't ask me how, but he actually got off on the toilet charge. I can only suppose gold changed hands —"

"You were guarding it, weren't you?" said George eagerly. "The weapon? The thing You-Know-Who's after?"

"George, be quiet!"

"Anyway," Mr Weasley continued like he hadn't been interrupted, "this time Willy's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles, and I don't think he'll be able to worm his way out of it because according to this article, two Muggles have lost fingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency bone regrowth and memory modification. Just think of it, Muggles in St. Mungo's! I wonder which ward they're in?"

"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?" asked Fred, glancing at his father anxiously. "A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"

"There's no need to talk about that night," Mel said roughly. The tone she used was enough to quiet the twin, but Mrs Weasley added more to it.

"That's enough! Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside. You can come and say good-bye afterwards. Go on..."

Mel stood up and wished Mr Weasley as fast recovery, then she followed the rest of her friends back outside. Moody and Tonks went in, Fred spoke up.

"Fine, be like that. Don't tell us anything."

"Looking for these?" said George, holding out the extendable ears.

"You read my mind," Fred grinned. "Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?"

They gave everyone an extendable ear, Harry's hand stopped midway, hesitant to follow through.

"Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life, if anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him it's you..." George insisted.

"Okay, go!" Fred whispered once they were all seated.

"...they searched the whole area but they couldn't find the snake anywhere," She heard Tonks voice, "it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur... But You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?"

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," Moody replied, " 'cause he's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"

"Yes," said Mrs Weasley. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this..."

"Yeah, well," said Moody, "there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."

"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," whispered Mrs Weasley. "He said Mel used legilimency and found nothing unusual, but he's not so sure."

"Legilimency?" Moody said in a tone of mild surprise. "A fifteen-year-old having control over that kind of magic? No wonder why You-Know-Who wants her on his side!"

Mel gasped and Ron was quick to cover her mouth. So that was it then, Voldemort didn't want to kill her, he wanted to use her.

"...The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake... Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him —"

Harry jumped back, dropping the extendable ear and looking at his friends with wide eyes. Mel kept her gaze fixed on the door.

She wanted nothing else than to follow Harry's lead and hide in her room for the rest of the day, but as soon as she set a foot on the entrance hall, Ron caught her wrist and pulled her towards the twins' room, quickly followed by the rest of the young Weasleys.

"What?" She asked, though she already knew.

"You know what's going on," Ron said. "You knew Harry was ill before Neville had left the room, and you knew Umbridge was hurting him. Not only that, but you had the same bruises as Harry on the back of your hand!"

"How..?"

"Hermione saw it one day while you were still asleep," Ron confessed. "You have to tell us what's going on."

"I don't have the answers," She said tensely. "I can't tell if what they're saying it's true, I don't know if Harry's possessed."

"But you can tell other things, can't you?" Her friend insisted. "Last June, you had the same injuries as him in your arm, only that yours were bruises..."

She looked at the twins and Ginny, they were all staring at her. Now was as good as any other day, Harry didn't care about her telling them, but she had to be careful. Mel sat down on Fred's bed and told them everything.

Well, not everything. She began her story on the night of the third task, when the thin wall dividing her lifeline from Harry's broke apart. It was simple, really. They had been through so many near-death experiences together that the magic in their souls had merged, creating their strange connection.

Dumbledore had called it survival instincts, Harry's mind would look for her whenever he felt in danger, whether he wanted to or not. Not only that, but they were able to lend a bit of vital energy to each other if they were lacking some in a crucial moment.

The Weasleys listened with their mouths wide open, Ginny kept biting her nails, Ron looked awfully confused and would look at her and then the floor as if he could see Harry through it.

"That's why we fought," She said. "Harry doesn't want to force me to feel his pain. He thought that distance would help but I don't think we'll ever go back to normal. It didn't use to be this strong but ever since he fought Voldemort I feel more things now... I see more."

"But..." Ron frowned, trying to gather his thoughts. "But it's not you in his body, right? Or Harry in your body?"

"No..." Mel hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "I stay in my body and he stays in his. I just... it's like dreaming. You feel things, but as soon as you wake up, it goes away."

"But you've been hurt before," Fred frowned. "Ron said it just now, you get bruises, and last night when we got here, your nose was bleeding—"

"Those were my fault—" She started, but Fred shook his head in disbelief.

"How's that your fault?"

"The bruises happened because I didn't ground myself," Mel said. "Harry was going through a lot... he was dying. I had to give in a little so he could come back. I had to let him take whatever he needed..."

Her friends gave her eery looks, she let out a tired sigh.

"I know how it sounds, but I promise this is not hurting me more than it hurts him. This thing goes both ways, if I were the one hurting, Harry would feel everything. He... he would've done the same for me. You know he would."

No one talked against her, still, Ron had lots of questions.

"What about last night?"

"Last night," Mel look down, fidgeting at the idea of having felt something else than just Harry, but not wanting to scare her friends. "I was weak– I used legilimency for the first time, it drained me. I couldn't push Harry's feelings away, I just buried them inside. Which was a mistake."

"What does that mean?" Ginny asked. "If... if it turns out he's possessed, what will that do to you?"

"He can't be," Mel sentenced, but her voice broke at the end.

"Have you felt anything strange?"

"I just feel Harry, even if he were struggling with something, I doubt I'd feel it. I only feel the things that belong to his soul."

"I don't get it," George frowned. "You saved his life last June and he blames you for the connection?"

"He doesn't blame her," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry's scared for her. You'd be terrified too if your best friend gets hurt every time you do. Harry probably freaked out when he found out he'd taken a bit of Mel's life. That sounds awful... But he would've done the same for you, and it was your choice anyway, I think you were brave for doing so."

"Maybe if you talk to Harry he'll understand," Ron offered.

Mel let out a bitter laugh.

"I've tried. As soon as he told me his idea— I've tried to tell him that this is not his fault. The best we can do is just ignore it and try to live normal lives."

"I don't think it'll fix it," Fred replied. "Things don't usually go away like that."

" I'm not saying I'll ignore it if he's in danger, you saw it last night, I was the first to arrive and help him. I like my new life, I like having more friends and I can't help but think that maybe..."

She stopped before saying 'I don't need him anymore', realizing it was something horrible to say.

"Maybe what?" Ron asked sharply, probably guessing what she wanted to say.

"Maybe it's time I stop treating Harry like a child and let him deal with this on his own. He keeps saying he can do it, so maybe I should listen."

"What if he can't, though?" Ginny asked. "What if they're right and... and he's..."

Mel got up. "I'm tired... can we please leave it?"

"But—"

"Sure," Fred stood up as well. "C'mon, we should help mum and Emily downstairs."

He shared one significant look with Mel, she wondered if he'd gotten a new revelation with this. Maybe he understood there was more to their agreement than just her wanting to get over a crush.

It was about wanting to escape from the constant reminder of being tied to someone against her will, someone who didn't want her around.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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biillyhargroves · 5 years

Note

“im so tired.” “then sleep.” “I can’t. that’s when they come.” + harringrove (please and thank you!)

do you have room for one more troubled soul?(fic requests open)part ii: you’re a canary, i’m a coal minepart iii: too tired to be fighting

Billy hasn’t said a word all day.

This is not strange, exactly. He gets surly-quiet. He snarls and scowls, he gets gruff and moody, he bites out one-word answers and stinging sarcastic quips. But this is different. He isn’t angry. He doesn’t look mad. He isn’t being mean. This isn’t some sour mood that a long drive will fix. Steve knows this. He knows because he can see the deep, dark circles bruised beneath Billy’s eyes. He knows because Billy has spent every class period starting blankly at the board and didn’t. have a single word to say when Mrs. Click tried to call him out (”Mr. Hargrove, what are your thoughts?”, and Billy had just stared at her, unblinking and unfazed by every follow-up question - “What does Gilman say about powerlessness? Mr. Hargrove? How about the pattern on the wall? Does that mean anything to you, Mr. Hargrove?” - until she finally kicked him out of the classroom with a stern look and a pointed finger; Billy gathered up his things and slinked away, not seeming to hear the whispers that simmered in his wake).

Steve can’t find him after school. He isn’t in the locker rooms or on the basketball court, and when Steve finally wanders into the parking lot he sees Max with her back against the Camaro, her skateboard at her feet and her arms crossed.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks.

“Billy’s not with you?” she asks. Steve glances around him as if searching for Billy, holding out his hands to show the utter absence of her brother in their midst.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Whatever,” Max shrugs. “I was just gonna tell him I’m going to Mike’s anyway.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Friday. Campaign night.”

“Weird that you know that,” Max says. “Can you tell Billy? Tell him to pick me up at ten?”

“Nine,” Steve says, flinching internally at how incredibly mom-like it makes him sound. He holds up his hand to stop her from commenting on it. “I heard it. I’m sorry. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks,” Max says. She kicks off on her board and begins to roll away.

“Wait,” Steve calls, and Max drops one foot to the ground. “Is he okay? Billy?”

At this, Max turns around, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He just seems…I don’t know, out of it. I know you two don’t exactly, like, talk, but,” Steve trails off, and his gaze falls to his feet. He sighs heavily and shakes his head. “Forget it. Forget I asked. I’ll tell him to get you tonight, okay?”

But Max doesn’t leave, and it’s at least a minute before she speaks again. “He’s been going out at night. Going for, like, drives or something. I don’t really know. That’s all I got.”

“Every night?”

“Like I said,” Max tells him, “that’s all I know.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right, okay. Thanks.”

“Sure,” Max shrugs. She skates away and this time Steves lets her. He stands there, alone in the parking lot, scanning the now thinning stream of students trickling from the building, trying to spot Billy in the mix. Almost everyone is gone by the time Billy emerges, looking almost drunk as he stumbles from the school pinching the bridge of his nose. Carol tries approach him and he barely notices her hand on his shoulder. Steve’s heart lodges in his throat and he walks toward them with long strides.

“Everything okay here?” Steve asks when he’s close enough.

“You tell me,” Carol says, scowling as she looks Billy up and down. It’s clear that he hasn’t even looked at her - his primary offense against her. Steve’s hands hover over Billy’s back, not quite touching him but ready to catch him should he fall. Carol has removed her hand, her fingers curled like she’s touched something disgusting. “Good luck with that,” she says, and she walks off in a huff.

“Hey,” Steve says, speaking softly even though he’s sure Carol is out of earshot. “Billy?”

Billy doesn’t look at him, but his head does jerk slightly toward Steve, and Steve finally lets a hand fall on Billy’s back.

“Come on,” Steve says. “I’m gonna take you to my place.” He starts to move, but Billy doesn’t budge. He’s like a stone. Steve tries to guide him, but he won’t move, rooted like a tree where he stands. “No one’s there, I promise. And Max went to Mike’s. It’s okay.” This time, Billy does look at him, and he blinks slowly as if seeing Steve for the first time. “Okay?” Steve asks. Billy nods his head, and he lets Steve lead him to the car.

Now they are the Harrington house, and Billy is cross-legged on Steve’s bed, and he hasn’t said a word in hours. Steve has tried to coax something out of him. He’s told him about Max, and that she wanted him to get her at ten. He asked if he was okay after Click’s class, and if he understood The Yellow Wallpaper. He asked if Billy wanted him to turn on some music, and when Billy continued to stay silent, Steve turned on the radio and let it play. Eventually, Billy reaches to shut off the radio.

“Don’t like that song?” Steve asks, and Billy shakes his head and points to his temple. A headache, from the static, or perhaps from… “You sick, man?” Billy does not shake his head at this, but he gives no other form of answer either. “You’re gonna have to talk eventually.”

“Sorry,” Billy says, voice flat and gravelly. “I’m just tired.”

“Are you sleeping?” Steve asks. “Max said you’ve been going out at night.”

“You talked to my sister?”

“I just asked if you were okay,” Steve says. “I was worried.”

“I’m touched,” Billy says. He is leaning his back against the headboard, his head leaned back against the wall, and his eyes are closed, though Steve can tell by his breathing that Billy is very much awake.

“So?” Steve asks. When Billy doesn’t answer, Steve says, “You should sleep. Crash here for a while. I can grab Max for you.:“No,” Billy says.

“No?”

“No,” Billy repeats. “I can’t.”

“I can raid the medicine cabinet,” Steve offers. “I think my mom has something that-”

“I can’t sleep,” Billy says, “because that’s when they come.”

It takes some time for Steve to process Billy’s words. He stares at him, blinking rapidly, wondering if he even heard him correctly. Billy makes no move to backtrack or to correct his words. He sits in the spot, in the same manor, awake but unspeaking, unmoving, eyes closed and face drawn in utter exhaustion. The more Steve looks at him the more he can see the effects- the lines around Billy’s mouth, the wrinkles in the shirt he’s worn for the past three days, he dullness of his skin.

“They?” Steve finally asks. When Billy says nothing, he presses, “Who’s they?”

“Forget it,” Billy mumbles. But Steve sits across from him and he places a gentle hand on Billy’s knee. The touch makes Billy’s eyes slip open, and he blinks until he can focus on Steve’s face.

“What’s going on?” Steve asks him.

“It’s nothing,” Billy says.

“It’s not nothing,” Steve insists. “You said you can’t sleep because that’s when they come. That’s some horror movie bullshit, Hargrove. And, honestly, you look like an extra in that dumb Romero zombie shit the kids watch. So, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” Billy repeats. “It…it’ll go away. It’s just…never been this bad.”

“What’s never been this bad?”

“It’s stupid.” Billy shrugs.

“It’s not,” Steve says. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Shut up,” Billy says.

“Come on,” Steve says. “You can tell me.”

“It’s these, like…” Billy sighs, and he stares up at the ceiling. “They’re not nightmares, really. They’re something else. My mom called it something. It’s happened ever since I was a kid.”

“Like…night terrors?”

“Sort of,” Billy says. “I see stuff. And I’m not fucking crazy, okay?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Steve says.

“It’s just,” Billy stammers. “It’s like…I’m stuck. Like, I’m awake, but I’m stuck in a dream, and I know it’s a dream, but I can’t make it stop. It feels real.”

“That’s where they come?” Steve says.

“Yeah.”

“What are they?”

“I don’t know,” Billy says. He sounds like a child, frustrated and on the verge of tears. He sighs heavily and looks back at Steve. “I’m not crazy.”

“I know,” Steve says.

“It hasn’t happened in a long time,” Billy says. “But after, uh…after Max…”

“Hit you with a sedative to stop you from killing me?” Billy opens his mouth to defend himself, or to apologize, or some combination of the two, and Steve shakes his head and waves you off. “Come on. I got over that months ago. No hard feelings. You know that.”

“Right,” Billy says. “Well, uh, after that, I just…”

“It’s been that long?”

“On and off,” Billy shrugs. “I go for drives after. Uh, to clear my head.”

“That’s where you’ve been going?” Steve asks. “When Max hears you leave?” Billy’s silence is answer enough. Steve sighs and he squeezes Billy’s thigh. “What are they?” Steve asks. “Whatever it is you see.”

“I don’t know,” Billy shrugs. “They used to be, like…these men. Tall. Big. They kind of, um…kind of looked my dad, but I couldn’t really see their faces or anything. They’re different now, though. They look different.”

“Different how?”

“They’re something else,” Billy says. “They’re not human. They’re like these weird fucking alien things. They don’t have any faces, and some of them walk on all fours, and they-”

“They what?” Billy asks. “Do they do anything to you?”

“The old ones,” Billy starts, “used to just…hold me down. But these ones…they make the whole room cold. And their heads, like…” He trails off, and he shakes his head, and his tone suddenly turns angry. “Forget it, okay? It’s just these stupid fucking dreams.”

“No,” Steve says. “No, tell me.”

“Let it go, Steve.” Steve sighs, but he hear suppressed tears in Billy’s voice and he can see the bone-weary exhaustion pulling at every inch of him. Steve rubs Billy’s leg, and he moves to Billy’s side so that he can slide an arm around Billy’s shoulders. “What if we go for a drive?” he offers. It takes a bit of convincing to get Billy to agree, but Steve’s hope for the drive prevails: within a few miles, Billy is asleep with his head against the window. Steve keeps on hand on Billy’s shoulder and when Billy lets out a distressed whine, Steve squeezes him.

“It’s okay,” Steve tells him. “You’re safe.”

And Billy seems to hear this; he even seems to believe it. He settles down, face relaxed in sleep once more, and he stays like that as Steve drives loops around the town and beyond, stays fast asleep as Steve begins to wind through neighbors, is still out cold when Steve pulls up outside of the Wheeler house.

It is nine o’clock on the dot, and when Karen Wheeler calls Max to the door, Max seems less than pleased to be summoned. The others trail up behind her to say their goodnights, all of them surprised to see Steve instead of Billy waiting to collect her. Max’s brow creases and she leans out the open doorway to see Steve’s car at the curb, Billy asleep inside.

“What the hell’s going on?” she asks.

Steve looks at each of the kids in turn before saying, “I think we have a problem.”

#harringrove #harringrove fanfiction #harringrove fanfic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stfic #stranger things fanfic #lex writes fics #wndasmaximoffs #answered #in which billy's sleep paralysis demons might be real :)

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hollyxqx · 4 years

Text

just business // shownu // 02

↪ PAIRING: Reader / Shownu ↪ SUMMARY: Y/N’s mysterious new neighbour has definitely caught your eye. He’s quiet but the two of strike up an unlikely friendship. He doesn’t speak about his work to you and you don’t ask, but when his job puts your life in danger questions have to be answered once and for all.

↪ WARNINGS: SEX | more violence | angst | Kihyun's mad lol | this chapter is long

"I cannot fucking believe it," Kihyun breathed, almost in awe. His hands cradled the expensive liquor bottle as he read the label, confirming it was the real thing. "You sure you're not sleeping with him?" He teased, earning an eye roll from you. It was the next day and you had brought the alcohol into work to show Kihyun, knowing he would appreciate it as well.

"I tried to give it back," You laughed, shaking your head. "He wouldn't take it. I even offered to share it with him, but that was also a big fat no."

"He must be rich," Kihyun guessed. "You don't just buy a gift like this if you aren't."

"Hm, maybe." You agreed. "I have no idea what he does for work, so he might be."

"Then why does he live in your building? If you have this much money surely you'd live in absolute luxury?" He pondered aloud, setting the bottle back down on the desk. The bar was closed and the two of you were finishing the end of month paperwork in the back office.

"Hey!" You complained. "There's nothing wrong with my place."

"I know," He rolled his eyes. "I just meant, he's clearly got money, why is he not using it?"

"I don't know," You sighed, turning your attention back to your paperwork. "He's very...private." You were going to say secretive but that wasn't technically true, as far as you know Shownu hadn't lied to you. He was just very selective with what information you knew, keeping his cards close to his chest.

"And weird." Kihyun added pointing a finger at you. Ignoring his comment you finished up your work and put the papers away, finishing up for the night. Kihyun was hanging around waiting for you since he'd promised to drive you home tonight. Your car was in for repair so you appreciated it.

"I'm all done, shall we go?" You asked. He nodded and followed you as you locked up the office and turned of all the lights. You made sure everything was off in the bar and followed Kihyun to his car, slipping into the passenger seat. He started the engine and began the drive to your place. It was comfortably silent in the car, with nothing but the radio playing softly in the background.

"Noona?" Kihyun asked breaking the silence. You turned to look at your friend. "Can we hang out this weekend?"

"Of course, Ki." You replied. "Just text me when and where."Kihyun smiled and focused back on his driving. It wasn't long before you were in the parking lot of your building. He left the engine running and you unclicked your seatbelt. "Thanks for the lift, kid."

"I'm not a kid!" He groaned. "I'm a man. A big, manly man." He said, puffing his chest out, making you laugh as you got out the car.

"Goodnight, manly man." You said with a wave, shutting the car door.

You did the usual routine of checking for mail and made your way to the elevator but something caught your eye. There were emergency stairs to the right of the door and your eyes landed on Shownu, his hand wrapped around the throat of a man that was almost as big as he was. You froze, watching him slam the mans head harshly into the wall. "Don't fucking come here again," Shownu growled, his voice low and terrifying. The man's nose was bleeding and his eye was swollen, and you wondered if it was by Shownu's hands. "Or I'll fucking kill you myself." His voice was deadly, the threat very much real. His knuckles were turning white around the man's throat.

As if sensing you standing there, the trapped man's eyes flickered towards you. That caught Shownu's attention and he turned to see what he was looking at. "Y/N, leave." He commanded, his grip loosening on his victim. You wanted to but your legs weren't working, frozen in shock. "GO!" Shownu boomed and that seemed to bring you back to the real world and you hurried away, not even attempting to use the elevator.

Your hands were shaking when you made it to your apartment, adrenalin pulsing throughout your body. You unlocked the door after 3 attempts and let yourself in. What was that? You had known from that night Shownu might have been a violent person but actually witnessing it was another story. He was downright frightening, you thought as the sound of his voice threatening to kill that man replayed in your brain.

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You walked to your bedroom and started to get ready for bed, mind still buzzing. You pulled on a huge t-shirt as your pyjamas, it was hot and you just wanted to be comfortable. The jeans and socks you were wearing came off but you left your underwear on. You walked back into the kitchen and grabbed a drink, choosing to settle down on the sofa in front of the TV. You were too fired up to sleep just yet.

After what felt like hours you were dozing off on the sofa when you heard a knock at your door, jolting you wide awake. The clock on the tv read 2am, meaning only an hour had passed since you arrived home. You cautiously walked to your door, standing on tip toes to look through the peephole. To your surprise, Shownu was standing on the other side. Confused, you cracked open the door just enough so you could hide your bare legs.

"Hi," He said softly. "I'm sorry about before..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.

You quickly shook your head, you didn't really want to talk about it. "No, no, no, don't worry!" You forced out. "Thanks for apologising, have a good night." You started to shut the door but Shownu pressed his large palm against the wood stopping it from closing.

"I can explain." His voice was quiet.

"You don't need to, really." You said quickly.

"I want to." He sounded so sincere, you almost felt a bit guilty about brushing him off like this. The truth was you'd seen a side to him that shocked you, and he felt even more like a stranger now. "Please? Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a moment. Did you really want this violent man in your apartment? You peered up at him and his eyes were sad. He looked genuinely sorry, and you realised he'd let his guard down a little. "Ok," You said eventually and opened the door wider allowing him to walk through. His eyes immediately went down to your bare legs and you flushed with embarrassment, completely forgetting you didn't have pants on.

"Did I wake you?" He said, still looking at your body. You felt hot under his gaze and tugged on your shirt subconsciously as if that would help. "Sorry." He added.

"Let's sit in here." You mumbled and walked through to the living room. You sat on the sofa first and grabbed a cushion, using it hide your legs. He sat down opposite you and let out a small sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked tired.

"I really am sorry you had to see that," He began. "And I'm sorry I spoke to you like that."

"You scared me." You admitted in a small voice. He looked down at his lap as if he was ashamed.

"I had to get you out of there," He said quietly. "That man that I was with....that man is not a good man. Trust me."

"And you're a good man?" You said without thinking. "I take it that black eye and broken nose were your doing?"

Shownu lifted his head up and locked eyes with you. "I try to be. And yes, they were."

"Why?"

"He was going to kill me." Shownu said bluntly. "That's why he was here, actually."

This whole time you had suspected Shownu was involved in something. You didn't know what but you weren't stupid. Hearing him actually say it out loud though felt like some strange dream. "Did you kill him?" You asked before you could stop yourself.

"No." Was all Shownu said. You hugged the cushion tightly to your body, which he noticed. "You're scared of me." He pointed out. You shook your head no but it was a lie. "Don't be," He said softly, almost pleading. A hand reached out and gently touched your arm. "There are lots of people to be scared of, don't let me be one of them Y/N."

"How can I not be after that?" You mumbled.

"I understand. Really, I do. I just wanted you to know that I'm not some petty thug, and there was a reason why that happened tonight." He withdrew his hand from you and leaned back a little on the sofa.

"Why do you care what I think?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I just do, Y/N." You froze, unsure of exactly what that meant.

"You confuse me." He frowned at your words. "I can't read you at all. Sometimes you act like a stranger, then you buy me this expensive gift, then it's back to being cold towards me. And I know so little about you, I can't even tell if this is because you hate me or if it's just how you are."

Shownu closed his eyes for a moment. "I definitely don't hate you." He said, opening them.

"So this is just how you are? Moody?" You scoffed.

"That's what you think?" He asked. "Y/N, believe it or not I actually like you. Quite a bit actually." His eyes were searching yours, waiting for a reaction. You were at a loss for words. "But you saw what happened here tonight, and that night a few weeks ago. My life is not exactly safe and stable. Anyone I get involved with gets put in danger too. I didn't want to do that to you." He said, somewhat sadly. "So I kept my distance."

"I feel like I'm involved already." You said quietly and looked down at your lap. Suddenly Shownu reached over, using a finger to gently lift your head back up. His expression was one of sadness.

"I'm sorry." He said sincerely. You studied his face. He was so handsome, especially up close. He had such soft features you'd never expect him to be as violent as he was. He even looked like he could be a model. "Y/N," He said, voice barely above a whisper. His hand snaked round to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in you hair as he gripped you. He licked his lips and you felt your heart start to race as he leaned in closer. "Can I kiss you?" His breath was hot against your lips and you nodded. His lips connected to yours, so softly and delicately, not at all like you expected the kiss to be. You tried to pull away but he gripped you a little tighter, running his tongue along your bottom lip and slipping it into your mouth. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue on yours and this only encourage him, nipping your bottom lip with his teeth. Eventually you pulled apart, staring at each other.

"Wow." Was all you managed to get out and Shownu cracked a rare genuine smile at you. All you could think about was kissing him again.

"I should go," He said, standing up. You nodded and followed suit, walking him to your front door. At the door he kissed you on the forehead softly and stepped out into the hallway. "Can I see you soon? This weekend?" He suggested.

"Ok," You breathed.

"Goodnight." He said walking away and you shut the door behind him, leaning against it, excitement pooling in the pit of your stomach. What a strange night.

***

It wasn't long before Shownu was back at your apartment like you'd agreed. This time he'd barely said anything to you, attacking your lips with his as soon as the door was shut. Which is how you ended up fucking in the hallway before he carried you to your bed, ready for a second round. "You really want to go again?" You asked him breathlessly as he laid you on top of the duvet, crawling over you.

"Mmhm," He murmured sexily, kissing your neck. You felt like your skin was on fire from his touch. "I never got the chance to eat you out." He added and you groaned in pleasure at the idea of his head between your legs. He removed the remaining clothing you had, leaving you fully naked before him. You had both been so desperate before that he had fucked you while you had your shirt and bra on. Shownu was now kissing sloppily down your torso, settling himself between your legs. "I'm gonna make you feel so good." He looked up at you, smiling as you bit your lip in anticipation.

"Shownu!" You gasped when he kissed the inside of your thigh. Even though he'd made you cum once already you were still so turned on by him. You felt him smile into your skin at the desperation in your voice. He kissed his way to your pussy deliberately avoiding touching you were you wanted it most. "Shownu," You whined. "Don't tease me." Your were writhing on the bed now, desperate once more for him.

He chuckled a little but complied. You moaned loudly when you felt his tongue curl against your clit. He was so gentle, just like when he kissed you. "You taste so good." He said, pushing a finger into you. You were so wet you could feel it and he wasted no time in adding a second one. He continued to lick you while pumping his fingers in and out of your core. "Oh my god," You whined, hands gripping the sheet tightly. You felt like you were going to pass out from the pleasure. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop." You breathed.

He didn't relent and you could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. You arched your back feeling the pressure build up and he put a hand on your hip to hold you in place. "Are you gonna cum for me?" He asks, fingers still moving rapidly, his dark eyes filled with lust. You nodded furiously, unable to find your words. "Then cum." He curled his fingers, making you cry out. His tongue went back to your clit and that's all it took for you to find your release, clamping down hard against his fingers.

"That was even better than the first one." You breathed, with a small laugh. Shownu smiled, proud. He licked his fingers clean and climbed back up next to you.

"Seriously, you taste amazing." He smirked at you, enjoying the slight flush in your cheeks at the compliment. "I'm definitely going down on you again before I leave."

"Fine with me." You said, rolling on top of him so that you were straddling his waist. He still had his shirt on and you tugged at it. He took the hint and lifted his arms, letting you pull it over his head. You traced the angry red scar on his chest with your finger tips. It had healed well since that night you helped him. He gripped your hips, grinding you into his erection, ripping you from your thoughts and you let out a loud moan.

"Can I fuck you again Y/N?" He said, voice thick with desire. He thrusted his hips up a little so that the head of his dick moved over your entrance, sliding up to your clit. He was rock hard again and you groaned at the sensation.

"Please," You rasped, breathing heavily. "Please fuck me Shownu."

You leaned down and kissed him, tongues clashing in desperation. "Ride me." He commands and you position yourself over his length. Slowly you sank down on him, taking him a bit at a time. His dick was huge, the biggest you'd ever experienced and you didn't want to hurt yourself. "God, you take me so well." He groaned when he was finally all the way inside you, pressing his head backwards into the mattress.

"Fuck," You moaned. "I feel so fucking full." His hands gripped your hips so tightly you knew there would be bruises. He started to bounce you up and down on his dick, the burn from the sheer size of him turning into pleasure.

"You're so beautiful Y/N." He said, following it with a deep throaty moan. The compliment made your heart swell, it was the first time he ever said anything like that to you. "Shit, you feel so good." He sighed. He shifted so he was sitting up, the new angle allowing him to get much deeper inside of you. Hands wrapped around your body, bringing you close, naked chests touching. He slid one down to your ass cheek, grabbing it tightly in pleasure as you rocked your hips into his.

You buried your head in his neck, already falling apart at the warm euphoria taking over your body. You wondered if you would cum again, so soon after the last time. The sweat is starting to pour off of him and you clung to him harder, desperate to feel his skin against yours. "I'm close already." He breathed into your ear. He was grunting with every snap of your hips and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you.

Without warning he flipped you onto your back, arms cradling underneath your shoulders. This way he was in control and he began to pound into you relentlessly, chasing his own orgasm. "Fuck," You cried at the new pace. "Harder Shownu, harder-!"

He growled at your words and increased his movements. The headboard was rattling so hard against the wall you were sure the neighbours could hear it.

"Fuck, Y/N -!" He gasped, his breathing short. "I'm gonna fucking cum." His thrusts are messy and you could tell he was barely holding on.

"Cum for me," You whispered. "Cum for me Shownu, cum in me, fill me up."

That did it, sending him over the edge. With one loud groan he emptied his load in you, thrusting until you were full. Eventually they slowed to a stop and you both stayed there for a moment, regaining your breath. He lifted his head up from the crook of your neck and pecked you on the lips. His dark hair was wet with sweat and clung to his forehead, cheeks red from exertion. Even like this you couldn't believe how gorgeous he looked. "Sorry you didn't get to cum again," He said breaking the silence, his breathing more regular now. "I couldn't last any longer. You felt too damn good." He smiled that gorgeous smile of his again and your heart fluttered.

"Don't be silly, twice in one night is more than fine." You laughed.

He pulled out of you and the two of you began to clean yourselves up. You hadn't expected to sleep with him so soon but you couldn't resist his advances the second you felt his mouth on yours. Once you were both dressed again you retreated to the living room. "Shall we finally try that tequila?" He suggested.

"Sure, I'll get it." You walked to the cabinet in the kitchen where it sat unopened. You grabbed it, along with two glasses and headed back to Shownu. "I still can't believe you bought this." You muttered pouring a little each glass.

"I wanted to do something nice for you." He shrugged.

"Flowers are fine." You joked, earning a laugh from him. You clinked glasses and sipped the clear liquid. "Oh my god," You exclaim looking at the glass incredulously. "This is amazing."

"Hmm," He hummed in agreement. "I'm glad you like it."

You poured each of you another glass, already feeling the effects of the alcohol go to your head. "What are you doing for the rest of the day?" You asked, finishing your second drink.

"Nothing," He replied. "I was hoping I could spend it with you..."

You smiled up at him, his words making your belly do flops with excitement. You felt like a teenager with a crush, giddy and horny. "Sounds good to me."

***

A loud banging on your door brought you out of the deep sleep you had fallen into. Groggily you sat up, taking a second to orientate yourself. It was morning. You must have slept through the night. Next to you Shownu had sat bolt upright, instantly wide awake. "Someone's at your front door." He stated, his voice husky from sleeping. You got out of bed, still naked and half asleep and pulled on Shownu's shirt. As you got closer to the front door the unmistakable sound of your name could be heard.

"Y/N!" It was Kihyun. He knocked again, louder. You rushed over to the front door in a panic, fearing the worst. Why was he here? You swung the door open before he had a chance to make anymore noise.

"Kihyun?!" You exclaimed. "What's going on?"

"Oh my god, I thought something had happened to you." He said, sighing with relief. He rushed into your apartment and pulled you into his arms. You were paralysed with confusion, and very aware of the lack of underwear on your body. "Don't ever do this to me again!"

"Kihyun -" You started, pushing yourself out of his arms. "What on earth are you talking about?"

He looked just as confused as you. "Noona, we were supposed to meet yesterday." He stated, matter of factly. "I got worried when you didn't show. I tried calling and texting but I couldn't get through. When even more time went by I couldn't stand it, so I thought I'd make sure you were ok."

You felt like you had a rock in your stomach. You had completely forgotten about making plans with Kihyun. Wrapped up in the excitement of being with Shownu you hadn't even looked at your phone in more than 24 hours, and you guess it had probably died in that time. The realisation made your heart pang with guilt. "Oh my god Ki, I'm so so so sorry! I forgot!"

"You forgot?" He said in a small voice and the feeling in your chest worsened.

"No, well - yes, but it's not like that." You explained quickly, fumbling over your words. "I ended up stuck doing something else, and was too busy to look at my phone. I'm so sorry." You felt ashamed at letting down your good friend.

"What were you doing?" He asked, confusion flickering on his young face.

You bit your lip. You didn't want to lie to Kihyun but you knew if he told the truth he'd be angry. "My friend came over, and then we got a bit drunk and fell asleep. That's why I didn't call."

"You worried me, you know." He sighed, taking your hand in his. You were forgiven, for now. You gave his hand a squeeze.

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you." You promised. "I'll buy you dinner after work next week."

"If you don't I'll quit." He threatened but you smiled, knowing he wasn't serious.

"What time is it?" You asked, suddenly realising you hadn't looked at a clock yet.

"It's about 9am." Kihyun answered. "Do you want a lift to work today?" He asked. You hadn't even thought about the fact you still didn't have a car, mind so preoccupied with Shownu. "I can hang out here until then?" He suggested.

You remembered Shownu in the other room. "No!" You shouted, startling Kihyun. He looked perplexed at your outburst. "My friend is still here..." You trailed off, knowing he would click and realise exactly what that meant.

"Oh..." His eyes raked over your outfit and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. "Oh. That kind of friend." He muttered, his cheeks burning with the sudden realisation. He let go of your hand roughly pushing it away. "Let me guess, it's your fucking weirdo neighbour isn't it?" He mocked, his voice louder now, anger rising within him.

"Ki - " You started to say but he cut you off.

"I knew it! You lied to me!! You said you weren't sleeping with him!" He shouted. You prayed that Shownu couldn't hear any of this but your apartment was small and he wasn't deaf.

"Calm down," You pleaded. "I didn't lie to you, it was the truth at the time."

"But not anymore." He grumbled. "I'm a fucking idiot. I was worried about you, thinking something awful had happened, because Y/N would never stand me up, and the whole time it's because you were too busy spreading your legs for the creep that's trying to buy your affection." He spat, his words tearing through you. The whole time you'd know him Kihyun had never spoke to you so harshly. He was your good natured younger friend. You were his noona.

"Kihyun, don't be like this. I really am sorry."

"He can fucking take you to work." He said angrily. "I'm leaving." You called at him to stop but he ignored you, roughly swinging the door open and slamming it on his way out. You just stood there for a moment trying to process what had just happened. This was the first time you'd ever even had a fight with Kihyun.

"You okay?" Shownu spoke, his voice bringing you back to reality. He was standing in the hallway, having slipped his boxers back on but he was still shirtless. You nodded weakly. "I heard most of that, sorry." He admitted.

"It's okay," You sighed. "Not your fault."

He closed the distance between you and wrapped his long arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "I am a bad, bad friend." You mumbled, pressing your face into his body.

"People make mistakes, it doesn't make you bad." He said quietly, rubbing your back. "Is this the friend I saw you with before? In the lobby?"

You recalled the way he had looked at Kihyun that day and how much it looked like he was your boyfriend. "Yes," You answered. "He's a good guy, I've never seen him act like this before."

"He likes you, Y/N." He says casually. "That's why he's acting out."

"No, no it's not like that. We're just really close and I let him down."

Shownu cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at you. "If you say so." A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. "Anyway, can this creep take you to work?" He smirked and you laughed, giving him a nod. You hoped Kihyun would have calmed down by then and you could talk, otherwise it would be a long shift.

masterlist

#monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x smut #monsta x angst #shownu smut #shownu fanfic #shownu fanfiction #kihyun fanfic #kihyun ff #kihyun smut #monsta x au

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starrystarrybabe · 5 years

Text

Oh, How the Mighty Fall [In Love] CHAPTER ELEVEN (Ben Hardy x OC)

Lily Anne Mercury is brought in to help with Bohemian Rhapsody at the request of her Uncle Bri and Uncle Rog, and along the way, she might meet someone to share her life with. The only problem with this is that while their friends and the world can see that they’re perfect for each other, they’re going to be fully blind to this for a while.

DISCLAIMER: I’m fully aware that it would’ve been physically impossible for Jim and Freddie to have a child even with this method during the time they were alive, but the idea of Freddie as a dad and the idea of how his child would turn out to be was just too sweet for me to not write.

So sorry for the long ass wait! I went through a rut and real life became too much, and I finally got the chance to continue today. I got to school two weeks ago, so a lot is happening.

CHAPTER ONE, CHAPTER TWO, CHAPTER THREE, CHAPTER FOUR, CHAPTER FIVE, CHAPTER SIX, CHAPTER SEVEN, CHAPTER EIGHT, CHAPTER NINE, CHAPTER TEN

Triggers: none that I noticed

FACECLAIMS:

Kelly Gale as Lily Anne Mercury

Sira P. Kante as Ezichi Adebayo

Erika Linder as Bronwyn Ryan-Hughes

Bree Kish as Madigan Ryan-Hughes

Sonakshi Sinha as Anusha Laghari

Lily has been feeling exceptionally nauseous and moody these past few days, and now she knows why since it is typical for the second month of pregnancy to be the time morning sickness, food aversion, and a host of other unsavory symptoms to arrive. This particular morning, she awakens from her slumber and runs to her en suite bathroom, vomiting up last night’s Indian food. She groans as Katie opens the door and comes inside.

“I guess I should say congratulations, Lily,” Katie says, getting her a glass of water.

Lily groans and gargles before weakly spitting into the toilet and flushing it. She presses her cheek to the cold toilet seat and smiles at her assistant. “Thank you, Katie. I appreciate it.”

“Can I get you anything to eat before today’s rehearsal? Any tea? You shouldn’t drink coffee while pregnant.”

Lily sits up slowly and sighs. “I’ll take a chocolate croissant and an earl grey tea with two sugars. Buy yourself something to eat as well, love. Whatever you want, it’s on me.”

“But--”

Lily waves dismissively. “I know, I know. You’re not a charity case, my dear. Just let me treat you this once, please. It’s the last day of the tour and you’ve been a trooper.”

Katie sighs. “Of course, Lily. I’ll be right back with your breakfast.”

When Katie leaves, Lily gets out of the bathroom and flops into bed, curling up under the plush comforter. Her phone buzzes, and she picks it up to see that Ben is trying to FaceTime her. She presses the accept button and smiles weakly at him.

“Hello, love. How are you?” He asks, looking concerned. “You look pale.”

She sighs, moving to a more comfortable position. “I had my first bout of morning sickness just five minutes ago. It was disgusting.”

Ben nods, looking down before meeting her eyes again. “But… doesn’t morning sickness mean the child is healthy?”

She nods, smiling. “Yep. Little Baby Jones is developing as he or she should.”

Ben smiles, letting out a little laugh. “Little Baby Jones?”

She grins. “Do you like that? The band came up with it and I thought it sounded lovely.”

Ben nods, running a hand through his hair. “Little Baby Jones. I love it.”

Ryan Reynolds comes up behind Ben and grins into the camera. “Hi. Sorry to intrude, but congratulations, you two!”

Ben is on set for reshoots today, just for a few scenes with Ryan.

Lily grins. “Thank you, Ryan. How’s Blake’s pregnancy going?”

Ryan shrugs. “Just like the last two. She’s a bit mad at me right now because the kid won’t stop kicking, but she’ll get over it.”

Ben laughs and looks to Lily. “Surely you won’t blame me for when Little Baby Jones kicks.” He looks fearful. “Right?”

Lily purses her lips. “I’ll be very hormonal. Don’t hold your breath, Hardy.”

Ben nods and Ryan claps him on the shoulder. “It’ll be alright. Just change all the diapers the first week after she gives birth and she won’t be angry anymore.”

Lily smiles. “I like that idea! Very clever, Ryan.” She smiles at Ben. “I’ll let you two go now. Break a leg!”

Ben smiles at her when Ryan leaves to go to his trailer. “I love you, Lil. See you tonight.”

She smiles back at him. “I love you too, Ben. I can’t wait to get home.”

Lily yawns, exhausted as she exits the car and walks back to her home. She holds her travel pillow in one hand and has her backpack in the other, and shuffles through the door to see a fresh vase of roses and lilies with a handmade sign in Ben’s handwriting, saying “Welcome home, Lily!” She smiles sleepily and crouches down as Reykja and Frankie jump on her to kiss her, wearing new collars that have bow ties on them. She scratches their heads as the security detail puts her suitcases in the foyer, and closes her eyes, holding the pups in her arms, moving to sit on the ground.

“I missed you too, babies. Mama has gifts for both of you, don’t worry.” She kisses the pups and smiles.

The security detail leaves and locks the door behind them, and she hears a welcome voice as she opens her eyes.

“Do you like their bow ties? I thought you’d appreciate it,” Ben says, leaning against the wall of the foyer wearing gray sweats and a loose blue sweater.

Lily looks up at him, nodding. “I do appreciate it. They’re ready for the Met Gala.”

Ben laughs and helps her up before hugging her tightly. Lily breathes in the scent of his cologne, her face pressed up against his sweater, and relishes in his warmth. His hand travels to her back, fingers splayed against the oversized sweater that was once his, and he closes his eyes.

“I missed you,” he says quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Same here,” she replies. “It’s lonely at night without you next to me. You’re my favorite pillow.”

He smiles, looking down at her. “I just washed the sheets and am ready to be a human pillow.”

She looks up with a tired smile. “How’d I ever get so lucky?”

He gives her a peck before pulling away from her to bring up her backpack. “You earned me, and I earned you, somehow.”

She scoffs. “You would be a gift to anyone, Ben. I’m the lucky one in this relationship.”

Ben looks at her and raises a brow. “What did I say about you putting yourself down?”

She purses her lips. “That I shouldn’t do it and you love me?”

He kisses her forehead. “That’s right.”

They go upstairs to their bedroom, and Ben smiles as Lily flops face-first onto the bed, the dogs jumping up to lick her face. He shoos the dogs away, and helps her roll onto her back, positioning her to lay on her pillow. Frankie and Reykja sniff the air before moving to lick Lily’s stomach, and she smiles at the sight.

“They know,” she says, scratching their heads. “You two will have a little sibling to protect. Isn’t that exciting?”

The pups snuggle into her stomach protectively, and Lily smiles at Ben, who moves them to the foot of the bed in order to cover her with the duvet and curl up around her, one hand resting on her stomach. She places her own hand over his and closes her eyes.

“When should we tell everyone the news?” Ben asks, kissing her shoulder.

Lily shrugs. “I think at the party in two days. It would be a good surprise for everyone, and we wouldn’t have to make the announcement more than twice.”

Ben nods, holding her closer. “We should visit my parents to tell them about the baby.”

She turns around, fear in her eyes. “I’ve only ever FaceTimed with you and your parents, and the first time I meet them you’re just going to drop the ball that I’m pregnant?”

Ben nods slowly. “I mean, is there any other way to do it at this point? We shouldn’t wait any longer.”

She sighs, closing her eyes. “What if they don't like me and think I tried to trap you in a relationship with this child?”

Ben shakes his head, kissing her forehead. “They don’t think that, Lily. They trust my judgment, and if I thought we weren’t going to stay together for a good long time, I would have asked you to reconsider if you wanted the baby or not.”

She raises a brow. “A good long time? Is that your way of saying forever?”

Ben takes a moment before nodding. “I guess so. I really hope you feel the same way because you’re never getting rid of me.”

She smiles and pulls him down for a kiss. “You’re the best annoyance I could ever have.”

He kisses her and laughs, curling up next to her contently.

Lily twists the ring on her finger nervously as Ben drives them over to his parents’ house two hours away in Bournemouth. They’re thirty minutes away, and Lily has bought onesies for her baby’s grandparents to tell them the news.

Ben looks over at his nervous girlfriend and puts a hand on hers, prompting her to look over at him. She holds his hand, and he brings it to his mouth, kissing it gently.

“Everything will be okay, love. I promise you that they will be happy and supportive,” he reassures her.

She smiles at him weakly. “I hope so. I want your parents to like me. I know they’ll like their grandchild, because Little Baby Jones is half you. I’m not worried about that. Hopefully them liking the baby will make them like me, since I’m making the baby.”

Ben lets out a little laugh. “You’re overthinking it, love.”

She sighs deeply and nods. “I know. Sorry.”

Ben smiles and as they hit a red light, leans over to kiss her cheek. “They’ll love you. Don’t worry about a thing.”

She smiles at Ben as he begins driving again. “How are you feeling about all this?”

Ben takes a deep breath. “I’m excited. My mum can’t wait to meet you, and my dad is happy that I found someone who loves me just as much as I love them. They already like you. I think they’ll be shocked and happy about Little Baby Jones, but ultimately, supportive.”

She nods. “Even if they aren’t, I’m betting on Roger crying tomorrow when he finds out, and that will fill me with joy.”

Ben lets out a huff of laughter. “We’re videoing their reactions, right? I feel like we should.”

She nods. “Definitely. We should make home videos for Little Baby Jones. Freddie did it for me while he was still alive. Jim kept it up, but his camera work was shoddier than Freddie’s.”

Ben smiles, imagining his child grow up, and being able to show them videos of themselves as a baby. It’s so cute he almost cries. He kisses Lily’s hand.

“We should look for good cameras online and get one as soon as possible,” he tells her, and she grins at him, kissing his cheek.

Ben rings the doorbell with one hand and holds Lily’s hand in the other, squeezing it as he hears his mother run towards the door, calling out to his father to turn off the television and greet his son. The door opens and Lily is faced with a short woman with blonde hair and Ben’s eyes, and a smile that could light up a dark room. She gasps as she sees Lily and brings her in for a hug, and Lily is surprised, but reciprocates the gesture.

“Oh, Lily! It’s so nice to meet you in person!” She pulls away, pushing some hair out of Lily’s face. “I’ve heard so much about you from Ben. You’re even more beautiful than he described you to be.”

Lily smiles at a flushed Ben whose eyes are very interested in the ground and turns back to Ben’s mom. “I certainly hope he only told you the good things about me. The tabloids will tell you the rest.”

Ben’s mom turns to her son and pulls him down, kissing his cheek. “Oh, he adores you, Lily. He’s never been so excited to tell me that he got a girlfriend.”

Lily grins, and watches as Ben hugs his mom. The woman waves them inside, and as Lily enters the humble home, her boyfriend is embraced by his father, who has the exact same nose as him, and even though he’s turning gray, she can still see some brown curls.

After hugging his son, Ben’s dad turns his attention to Lily and smiles. “Finally Ben brings you over! He’s been talking about you for months.” He hugs Lily and pats her on the back.

“I’m sorry it took this long to meet you! It’s just been hectic for me, work-wise,” Lily replies, smiling at the man.

Ben’s dad nods. “You just got back from a huge tour, didn’t you?”

Lily nods. “Yep! A huge North American tour. It was exhausting but amazing.”

Ben’s mom leads them to the dinner table and they sit down to eat a homecooked meal.

After a hearty dinner and a wonderful conversation that has brought Ben’s parents and Lily closer together, Ben squeezes Lily’s hand. She looks over at him and raises a brow.

“Do you want to give them their gifts now?” He asks.

She nods, and watches as he hands over the presents to his confused parents.

Ben’s mom frowns. “What is this? You didn’t have to bring us presents.”

Ben gestures to the bags. “Open it and you’ll see.”

The parents open the bags at the same time and pull out the onesies, going quiet in shock. Ben’s mom looks like she’s about to cry, and his dad’s jaw has dropped and won’t come back up.

Lily takes a deep breath. “The reason this visit was on such short notice is that I wanted you two to meet me before our relationship progressed and the press found out I’m pregnant. I realize everything has moved very fast, but I promise you that my feelings for your son will not fizzle out. We spent so long waiting for the right time to confess that we wasted ten months on useless pining, and even though this baby came rather quickly--”

“Was it planned?” Ben’s mom asks, looking at Lily.

Ben shakes his head. “Not at all. You know I wouldn’t decide to have a child with someone just a few months into dating them. We were careful, but this happened, and we decided that we should keep the baby.”

His mom smiles, wiping away tears. “How far along are you?”

Lily smiles at her. “I’m about two months along. I don’t know exactly how old Little Baby Jones is, but based on my symptoms and the timing of things, that’s my guess.”

Ben’s dad clears his throat and wipes away tears. “I’ll need to see if they make baby-sized rugby jerseys.”

Ben looks over at his parents. “You’re not mad or shocked?”

Ben’s mom shakes her head. “Oh, we’re shocked, alright. But mad? Love, you found the perfect woman for you and now you’re making a family with her. How could we possibly be mad about that?”

Ben’s dad looks over at Lily and smiles. “You’re an amazing person, Lily. It is an honor to have you become a part of our family.”

Lily smiles and nods. “I’m glad that I can be a part of it.”

Ben’s mom gasps. “Oh!”

Ben turns to face his mother. “What is it, mum?”

She grins. “The baby will be here for Christmas! Oh my lord, my little grandbaby will be able to be a part of the Christmas celebration!”

Ben’s dad nods and looks at the young couple across from him. “If you two feel up to driving over for Christmas, please do. The whole extended family will be here, and they’ve been waiting for Ben to settle down with a nice woman and have a child. We all have. Little did we know that we’d be sharing the grandparent title with Freddie Mercury.”

Lily laughs. “We’re going to tell Brian and Roger and the rest of the BoRhap cast tomorrow about the baby. My bandmates already know because they helped me get the tests on the road.” She grins. “I was planning on having Brian and Roger also be grandparents for this baby.”

Ben’s dad leans back, smiling and holding the onesie. “Never thought I’d meet Queen, and now they’re gonna be part of my family.”

Ben’s mom smiles fondly at Ben and Lily. “This is amazing news, you two. Congratulations. You’ll be amazing parents.” She bashfully looks down. “However, if you need a weekend off, we will gladly take the little one and babysit them for you two.”

Ben lets out a laugh and wraps an arm around Lily’s shoulders. “We’ll be sure to take you up on that offer.”

On the car ride home, Lily smiles and holds Ben’s hand, her other on her stomach. She’s so happy that his parents like her, and even happier that they cannot wait to meet their grandchild.

The next day, Lily sets up a camera in a houseplant, and Ben makes sure all the gift bags are properly labeled and prepared. They’re getting food delivered since they’re all too tired to even think about cooking, and the Taylors and Mays are joining the band and the BoRhap boys for the get-together.

Lily is wearing a loose top with a pair of jeans, and looks at herself in the mirror, her bump barely visible. She can still tell it’s there, though. Ben walks in the room and sees her examining herself and smiles at her.

“You’re barely showing, Lily,” he says.

She sighs, looking in the mirror. “I know, but with the rumors I need to be extra cautious. People will already be suspicious and this looks like a bit more than bloating.”

He walks over and places his hand on her stomach, kissing her forehead. “It’ll all be okay. We’ll be fine.”

She closes her eyes and leans into his touch, smiling. “Thanks, Ben.”

Ben pulls her into a hug. “You’re welcome, Lil.”

The party is in full swing, and Lily smiles as Ben comes back into the room with a bottle of beer, sitting next to her on the loveseat and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Joe sits with Anusha across from them, and Gwil is next to Lucy on another couch. Rami is making himself and her cocktails. Bron and Madi are picking up the food they’ve ordered, and Roger and Brian and their respective wives have just arrived.

They’re discussing the tour and the funny shenanigans that went on during their time on the bus, and when Roger pitches in with stories of Freddie and himself taking care of a drunken Brian during their early tour days. Brian immediately turns red, but Lily and the band prompt Roger to talk more, and they are all enthralled by the stories the older man has to articulate.

Of course, when Bron gets into the shenanigans Room 301 got into on tour, she pointedly avoids telling them the best one.

After a filling dinner and wonderful conversation, Lily looks over at Ben and he passes out the gift bags to everyone. She smiles as her friends and family examine the bags.

“As thanks to all of you for being such good companions, Ben and I bought these gifts for you. I think you’ll love them, and I’m very excited for you all to see what they are.” She looks at Ben before pressing her lips together. “You can open them now if you want.”

As the gift bags are opened, the reactions begin to make their appearance.

Joe’s face is reminiscent of a child’s at Christmas. He pulls out the onesie and gasps, a smile spreading across his face. Anusha pulls her onesie out and her jaw drops as she looks at Lily, who’s leaning back in the loveseat, a smile on her face.

“I knew it!” Joe exclaims, standing up and laughing.

Anusha is still staring at her friend. “You really wanted to lock him down in this relationship, didn’t you, Lily?”

Lily laughs and looks over to see Gwil, Rami, and Lucy digesting the information. Lucy looks over at her and a smile spreads across her face before she hugs her tightly, letting out a squeal.

Rami is still speechless, but Gwil gets up and hugs Ben tightly.

“Congratulations, Ben. Congratulations to both of you! This is amazing, really. Unexpected, but wonderful!” Gwil hugs Lily as well, and she smiles.

Rami nods, smiling. “This is a great gift, guys. I’m so glad I get to be a part of your baby’s life.”

Lily squeezes Ben’s hand, and he speaks up.

“I know this is kind of sudden, but we’re really happy about it. I can’t wait to be a father. I feel even better about this because I know Little Baby Jones will have a wonderful support system.”

Lily looks at Roger and Brian, who are still looking at their onesies in awe. Roger’s fingers shake, and Sarina holds his hand. Anita is wiping away tears.

Brian smiles and nods approvingly. “Little Baby Jones can come to the animal sanctuary as often as they’d like.”

Anita nods. “We will gladly babysit.”

Sarina rubs Roger’s back, tears in her eyes. “We have more than enough children to keep the baby occupied if you need a break.”

Roger finally speaks up, letting out a laugh. “Fucking finally!”

Ben blinks, confused. “Huh?”

Roger huffs. “I have five kids. Five. A few of them are older than Lily. Do they have kids of their own? Of course not!” He shakes his head. “I’ve been waiting for my first grandchild for years now, and for the child to come from you and Lily— who finally got her shit together and admitted that she liked you—“

“Blame me like that again and you won’t be Little Baby Jones’ grandfather,” Lily threatens, raising a brow.

Roger raises his hands in surrender. “All I want to say is that I’m very excited to have a new child to corrupt. Especially since you two are such a good couple and I’ve wanted you two to date from the day you met.”

Lily hugs Roger and after they part, he hugs Ben tightly, whispering something to him that makes him smile.

Brian hugs Lily, sobbing into her shoulder. She comforts him, smiling. Anita comforts her husband as he pulls away, rubbing his eyes. Lily squeezes Brian’s hand.

“I-I’m so happy. Pardon the tears, please. It’s just... you deserve this, both of you. A child is the best gift you could possibly receive. You two will be amazing parents, I know it.”

Lily smiles as Ben comes up to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

Roger speaks up, grinning. “Enough tears! We need to celebrate! Where’s the champagne?”

Lily laughs and sits back on the couch when Ben goes to find the champagne. She leans into Roger, smiling.

“I’m so proud of you, love,” he whispers to her, kissing her forehead. “You chose a good man.”

She smiles up at him. “I couldn’t have done that without you.”

He ruffles her hair as Ben, Ezichi, and Gwil come back with champagne glasses and sparkling seltzer for Lily.

After they toast, Joe gasps and everyone turns to face him.

“What’s up, mate?” Ben asks.

Joe grins. “Can you imagine how cute that kid is gonna be? I don’t think we properly spent time thinking about how gorgeous a baby with Ben’s eyes and Lily’s hair would be.”

Lily nods. “That’s what I want. A tan baby with dark hair and green eyes.”

A few hours later, they’re looking at pictures of babies on Pinterest and grinning.

“Lily, Little Baby Jones could be a model!” Anusha exclaims.

Lily leans against Ben’s chest, smiling as their friends gush over the child yet to come.

Later that night, Lily posts a picture of her ultrasound on Instagram with the caption, “Little Baby Jones, coming December 2020!”

She wakes up to enthusiastic comments and a phone call from her Aunt Kash. She sits up in bed and smiles as Ben holds onto her in sleep, one hand firmly on her stomach. The pups sleep at her feet, guarding her unborn baby from any harm.

“Hello?” She whispers. “We need to be quiet, Auntie. Ben is still sleeping, as are the pups.”

Ben shifts in his sleep, cuddling further into Lily. She places one hand onto his head, running her hands through the curls growing out from the haircut he’s just had.

Kashmira lets out a little laugh. “I’ll try, but it will be hard. I’m just so happy, Lily! You deserve this and will be an amazing parent.”

Lily smiles. “Thank you, Auntie. I’m excited. Ben will be a great dad, I just know it.”

Ben lets out a little puff of air and groans, adjusting himself to be even further on top of Lily.

Kash lets out a shaky breath and Lily can tell she’s smiling. “I’m just so happy. We need to get together and go shopping for the baby. You’re going to be the best mother, and that child will be— there’s no way you’ll produce an ugly child, not with yours and Ben’s genetics.”

“He is quite the beauty, isn’t he?” Lily says, smiling down at her man.

“Quite. I’ll let you get back to him, but I just wanted to tell you that I’m so happy and proud.”

“Alright. Thank you for calling, Auntie. Come over soon and we can have dinner,” Lily says, smiling.

“Of course! We’ll set a date. I love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

Lily hangs up and puts down her phone, looking down at Ben, who opens his eyes and blinks sleepily, yawning and nuzzling into her stomach.

“Mm... who was that?” He mumbles, eyes shut.

“My Aunt Kash. She was congratulating us on Little Baby Jones,” Lily says, running a hand through his hair.

He smiles up at Lily, eyes heavy. “I have a name for the baby.”

She raises a brow. “What is it?”

Ben rolls over and yawns again. “Taylor May.”

Lily nods, smiling gently. “Brian and Roger would love that.”

Ben looks up at Lily. “Would you?”

Lily thinks for a moment. “Taylor May Jones. That’s a solid name. Not to effeminate. Not too masculine. I like it. Taylor would also work for a boy. I think we should keep it in consideration.”

Ben smiles and nods. “Alright. I’m okay with that.”

Lily leans back against her pillows. “You want a girl, don’t you?”

Ben closes his eyes. “I’d be perfectly happy with either.”

She lets out a little laugh as he dozes off again.

He definitely wants a girl.

TAGLIST: @andtheytoldustotellyouhello @plethora-of-things @everybodyplaythegame @i-the-fangirl @deakydeakydeaky @shisterfackisback @samanthadegaro @lv7867 @fatbottomedcurls @redspecialty @haisimsim @peterparkeroos @teenwolflover28 @ixchel-9275 @alessandra-elle @onexlittlespark @queenficarchive @leah-halliwell92 @rrrogah-tayluhh @maddistudiess @queen-fam @evrsncnewyork @reddiefreddieee @babebenhardy @toms-irish-girl @bensrhapsody @good-old-fashioned-rogerina

#starry writes #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #lucy boynton #rami malek #borhap fics

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aidanchaser · 4 years

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero and Aubs

Chapter Nine The Half-Blood Prince

Severus Snape was not especially looking forward to his first day of teaching. Though he’d fought for the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts for years, receiving it this year of all years felt like a slap in the face.

Of course the job was cursed. He’d watched professors come and go each year as their student and he’d watched them come and go as their colleague. He’d thought — or perhaps he had simply hoped — that Lily might have been the professor to break the curse, but she had left as they all had. And now it was his turn.

Severus knew that Dumbledore hoped this would work out in their favor in the end. Severus would exit the position with a promotion. He would go from professor to Headmaster instead of professor to unemployed. When Dumbledore had presented the plan, Severus had protested that Minerva was poised to become Headmistress at Dumbledore’s inevitable passing. Dumbledore, however, seemed certain that the Dark Lord would not be satisfied with control over the Ministry. He would want control over Hogwarts as well, and if Severus could provide him with that, it would mitigate the damage that might otherwise be done to staff and students.

As he prepared for the first day of classes, Severus wondered what it would be like in just twelve months from now. Dumbledore would be dead — whether by Severus’s hand or as a result of Dumbledore’s own folly — and Severus would be the new Headmaster. He’d be above Minerva, who had been in the Order with him these last two years, and would know by then that he was a traitor.

Dumbledore had promised him the task of double agent would be difficult, but Severus had never imagined that he would have to betray the Order so drastically. Though there was not anyone in the Order he truly considered a friend, Minerva, as his colleague, was the closest thing to it. And those thin threads that still connected him to Lily would be severed once again.

Severus recalled his conversation with Tonks the night before. It had not been difficult to be cruel to her, though his choice in words would not have been his first choice if circumstances had been different. It was better this way, he reminded himself. If he was cruel to them now it would make the moment he betrayed them easier to believe. The last thing he needed was another incident where Harry Potter made connections about his true loyalties and unwittingly passed them on to the Dark Lord.

Sniping at Tonks for her affections had perhaps been a low blow, but they were only the things he had told himself about his own affections. They were easy shots to take.

The Great Hall was full of students, full of energy, still bubbling with excitement about the new year. The first day of classes was always a thrilling one, before the drudgery of hard work set in. Severus noticed, though, as he took his seat at the teacher’s table, there was a marked difference. There was a unique desperation in the air as students reunited with friends, friends who they had worried about all summer. It was a strange sensation, one Severus remembered unfortunately well, to be reunited with someone who you worried might have died.

Severus had hardly picked up his goblet when a collection of third years crowded around his table asking for their elective schedules. As Head of Slytherin House he was responsible for his students’ courses, but this summer had left him with little time to attend to such a menial task as approving his students course selections. Most professors handed out their course schedules to the students at the house tables. Even now, Severus could see Minerva making her way among her students. Severus, however, expected his students to take initiative. Slytherin House was about making your own way, fighting for your own success. His students came to him for what they needed.

The third years, at least, were easy. As long as no one tried to take anything with a scheduling conflict, they were fine to take whatever classes intrigued them. Hardly any Slytherins had ever taken Muggle Studies, which left them available for Care of Magical Creatures, and there were very few driven enough to be in Slytherin who also had an interest in the vague and unclear art of Divination, which opened up their schedules for the much more precise science of Arithmancy.

Sixth years schedules were more difficult.

Severus Appeared the third year course list and hastily approved students’ requests. Once his table was clear of them, he tapped his wand against the edge of the table and Appeared his sixth years’ O.W.L. results. They were disappointing, to say the least.

Slytherin was a house for the proud and ambitious, those who had high aspirations and would go on to achieve great things. Slytherin had turned out more Ministers for Magic than any other house. Yes, they had a reputation for Dark Wizards, but Ravenclaw, too, had turned out its fair share of Dark Wizards. And if you counted Peter Pettigrew — and Severus very much did — Gryffindor was not exempt. Only Hufflepuff had a spotless record.

This batch of Slytherins, though, was full of students whose parents held prestigious positions, and these students did not seem interested in working for much ambition of their own.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were prime examples. If Snape did not know their parents well, and was not interested in saving as much face as possible among Death Eaters, he would have had Crabbe and Goyle expelled from Hogwarts for their dismal O.W.L. results. As it was, he had a vested interest in at least making it appear like he cared for these particular students’ success, so he scheduled them for Remedial Defense Against the Dark Arts courses.

Severus finished each of his students’ schedules and proceeded to hand them out. Traditionally, he did this alphabetically, but this year he saved Draco Malfoy for last.

Malfoy noticed.

Malfoy approached the table with a sour expression.

“Welcome back, Mr. Malfoy,” Severus said, and handed Draco a course schedule. “You achieved two Outstandings, and a total of eight O.W.L.s. You should be quite proud. I’ve written a recommended schedule for you. I expect you’ll continue with Defense and Potions, as we discussed in your Career meeting. I’ve also added Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, and History of Magic to your course list.”

“I don’t need all that,” Malfoy said. The disdain in his voice was clear. Severus realized he had a lot of work to do if he was going to earn Malfoy’s trust.

“You’ll need knowledge in quite a few fields if —”

“I’ll keep Potions and Defense. I don’t need the rest of that rubbish.”

Severus considered Malfoy. His face was paler than usual. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. It had not been an easy summer for him. It would not be an easy year. Draco had been given the same task Severus had, and it weighed just as heavily on much less experienced shoulders.

Severus chose his next words very carefully. “Your father would not appreciate you shirking your education. You’ll keep Charms and Transfiguration in addition to Potions and Defense. I recommend you continue History of Magic. Next year, I’d like to recommend you for Head Boy, and you’ll need —”

Malfoy laughed. It was bold, rash, and incredibly rude. “Next year? We’ll just see what happens next year.”

Malfoy snatched his schedule from Severus. With his own quill, he crossed off History of Magic, Herbology, and he nearly crossed off Charms next, but Severus tapped his wand and Vanished Malfoy’s quill.

“Your overconfidence is astounding indeed, Mr. Malfoy. You will certainly take Transfiguration and Charms. And please visit my office after dinner tonight. There are important things we need to discuss.”

Malfoy said nothing more. He tucked the schedule into his robes and stalked back to the Slytherin table. Severus watched Malfoy go and wondered what exactly the young man had planned. His brash comment seemed to indicate he had an idea of what he was doing. That only worried Severus more. Malfoy was young, impulsive, as Severus had been at his age. Severus had done plenty of damage with his own plans, and there had been a good bit of collateral with each execution.

But those had been pranks; no one had been permanently hurt. What Draco was attempting….

Severus worried. Not only would he die if he didn’t help Malfoy, thanks to the Vow he had made, he worried about who might get hurt if they got in Malfoy’s way, intentionally or accidentally. He worried about Malfoy hurting himself. It was too much to ask a boy to kill the man that the Dark Lord himself could not.

But of course, the Dark Lord did not expect Draco to succeed. He meant for Severus to do it, in the end. And Severus would.

Severus left the staff table, ignored Flitwick’s cheerful greeting as they passed in the doorway, and headed to his new classroom. It had been easy to decorate, since Umbridge had not bothered with it herself. Snape had filled the blank walls with portraits portraying curses designed to induce a healthy fear of the Dark Arts into his students. Especially these days, the students needed to know what they were protecting themselves against. He hoped the rigor Mad-Eye Moody had drilled into them had not faded under Umbridge’s tutelage.

His morning class of bright-eyed Ravenclaw first years gasped in terror as they entered. The bravest whispered about the portraits on the wall; most were utterly silent. He spent the hour pacing the rows of desks, cloak billowing behind him as he lectured about Curses, Jinxes, Hexes, and Charms. He promised them that by the end of the year they would be able to perform Stunning Spells and Shield Charms with ease, and if they had any fears about what would await them out there, they would learn to face those fears in here. He had them begin by practicing the Knockback Jinx. Ultimately harmless, especially among first years who hadn’t even learned Wand-Lighting Charms, but simple enough that by the end of the lesson two students could successfully knock their friends over.

He had his N.E.W.T.-level students next. It was a larger N.E.W.T.-level Defense course than these last few years. So large, in fact, that though most upper-level classes prepared sixth and seventh years together, this year’s Defense class was separated.

Seventeen sixth-years were waiting for him when he opened his classroom doors.

Severus remembered how even in his time at school, Defense Against the Dark Arts was a crowded class, despite a similarly disjointed education. Students wanted to fight, on both sides of the war, and Defense Against the Dark Arts was the best place to learn to do that.

But after Dolores Umbridge’s rigid lessons, centered on simple theory and text-book applications, Severus had not expected this many to pass their exam, let alone achieve “Exceeds Expectations.” Experience was the best teacher in many ways, and that saying was perhaps truest of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps the practical portion of the exam had simply been easier last year.

Severus observed each student as they filed in. He’d had a long-standing policy of only accepting students with a score of “Outstanding” into his N.E.W.T.-level course, and he’d intended to continue that high standard as a Defense teacher. Unfortunately, there was only one student who had achieved an “Outstanding” in this class of students.

He was not surprised to see Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, not only because he had already approved them for the class, but because they were two of his most ambitious Slytherins, the two most willing to apply themselves to their studies. There were a handful of Ravenclaws, equally unsurprising. The Patil twins in particular were dedicated, and he would not have been disappointed to have them in his house. Then there were the Hufflepuffs. Susan Bones was no surprise, as her Aunt was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan were a surprise. Severus had never expected them to have the dedication necessary for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Stubborn determination did little good in subjects that required the finesse and ability to adapt that the Dark Arts and Potions demanded.

Then there were the Gryffindors. Severus counted the number of red-lined robes twice to be sure that nearly the entire house was present. Only two of the Gryffindor sixth years were not present.

Neville Longbottom was perhaps the biggest surprise. Severus wondered if his parents had helped him somehow, because he had not seen any skill in Longbottom before. Then again Neville had survived in the Department of Mysteries against thirteen Death Eaters, so perhaps there was something hidden deep down.

Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan, similarly, did not have the skill Severus expected of his students, but he had to admit that any Death Eater would be rightly terrified of Finnigan’s accidental explosions. Dean Thomas, at least, he expected to be in this class. Thomas had an ability to adapt and respond in a way most Gryffindors didn’t, in a way that served well in a duel.

Then there was Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. How Weasley had scraped an Exceeds Expectations was beyond him, but Hermione Granger’s studious nature was obvious as even now she was pulling out her textbook.

“I have not asked you to take out your books,” Severus said as he closed the door. He paced to the front of the classroom and turned, black cloak billowing as he faced the students. “I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention.”

Granger was staring now, entirely focused. Her work ethic did not make up for nor compensate for something she was missing by being Muggleborn. She was so much like Lily, though he did not think her natural talent lay in Potions the way Lily’s had.

And of course… Severus’s gaze lingered on Harry for a moment. Those green eyes that were too painfully familiar. Of course Harry Potter had been the only student to achieve an “Outstanding” in his Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.

Experience was the best teacher indeed.

“You have had six teachers in this subject so far, I believe,” Severus continued, doing his best to forget that Lily had been one of them. “Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion, I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced.”

Severus walked between the desks as he had with the Ravenclaws, though there were considerably more students in this class. He slowed his speech, so that it would be evenly paced to his walk around the classroom.

“The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible. Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo.”

Snape paused, stopping exactly where he had meant to, against the wall, beneath the portraits of curses. “These pictures,” he gestured to the frames above, “give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse —” Severus paused under a portrait of a wizard writhing in agony. His stomach turned both with the memory of his own experience and the knowledge that at least two of the students had felt the same pain he had “— feel the Dementor’s Kiss —” this portrait was of a wizard who had a blank look on his face, no emotion, expression empty, and Snape knew, again, that one student was familiar with the sensation of having his soul torn from his body “— or provoke the aggression of the Inferius.”

The pile of bloody bodies had several students gasp in horror and Parvati Patil squeaked out, “Has an Inferius been seen, then? Is it definite, is he using them?”

Severus did not appreciate being interrupted, but having seen a small army of Inferi ravage a Muggle town, he did not begrudge Patil her fear.

“The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past,” he said, “which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again.”

The drama of introducing each portrait had faded with Patil’s outburst, so Severus returned to the front of the classroom. “Now, you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?”

Unsurprisingly, Granger raised her hand. Severus waited for any other student to participate, certain it was a question with such a simple answer that someone had to know it, but no one else volunteered.

“Very well — Miss Granger?”

Her answer was accurate and academic. “Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you’re about to perform, which gives you a split-second advantage.”

“An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six, but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some,” Severus could not help but recall the dismal Occlumency lessons in which Potter put forward little effort, “lack.”

He saw Lily’s fury reflected in Potter’s glare and quickly turned his gaze on the rest of the class. It was difficult enough to think of her and of James each time he saw Potter. It was worse to know that Potter knew it, too.

“You will now divide into pairs,” he told the class. “One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on.”

The lesson was something of a disaster. The students paired within their houses, easily enough, though the trio of Hufflepuffs clustered together, since the odd number of students prevented perfect pairs. As Severus had expected, the few successful spells he witnessed were the result of cheating. Students did their best to whisper their spells out of earshot, which at least was a step in the right direction. The danger was that whispering or muttering spells could muddy intent and lead to poor casting. This was obvious when Finnigan muttered “Expelliarmus,” and Thomas yelped as he failed to repel a small explosion.

Granger was the only student who had any success. She repelled Longbottom’s muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx without moving her mouth at all. Her Shield Charm was small, and would not have survived a spell from a competent caster, but it was better progress than Weasley and Potter were making.

Weasley’s face was nearly purple with the effort of focusing on his jinx, and Potter stood across from him, wand raised half-heartedly, clearly unprepared to defend himself appropriately. Severus could not see how Potter deserved to look so smug and confident simply because his partner was incompetent.

“Pathetic, Weasley,” Severus said, as he strode to their aisle. “Here — let me show you —” He threw a simple Stunning Spell at Potter, but the red spark was hardly at the tip of his wand when Potter shouted, “Protego!”

Severus’s curse rebounded and he was thrown into a desk. He remembered Lily’s powerful Shield Charm and thought Harry had had much better teachers than Umbridge.

When he had recovered his breath and smoothed his robes, Severus said, “Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?”

Potter, voice entirely bitter and unashamed, said, “Yes.”

“‘Yes, sir,’” Severus corrected.

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.”

Snape let the silence linger for a moment, waited for the gasps of a few of the more appalled students to fade, and said, “Detention, Saturday night, my office. I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter, not even ‘the Chosen One’.”

He continued his walk across the classroom, to correct Parkinson’s stance, which was sure to get her knocked over if Malfoy landed a hit. So far Malfoy hadn’t, but Severus thought that might have more to do with Malfoy dating Parkinson than it did with any skill on Malfoy’s part.

The rest of the class passed uneventfully. There were no successes besides Granger, and Severus was left feeling less than optimistic about the sixth year’s chances on their N.E.W.T.s, much less out in the real world.

The only class that showed any talent was his Slytherin third years. He had two that were able to produce fully-realized Shield Charms, and Stunned their peers with ease. They were quite comfortable with many defensive spells, and Severus was surprised to discover that though one, Atalanta Shafiq was expectedly a pure-blood, the other, Hugh Ward, was only a half-blood, so he probably had not learned from his parents. He wished all his students showed their aptitude and dedication.

Severus headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. He kept an eye on the Slytherin table, hoping Malfoy would seek him out before the end of the meal, or might follow him to his office that evening. Though, judging from his conversation with the boy at breakfast, Malfoy was not particularly interested in anyone’s help.

Still, Severus kept an eye on him as he sat between Crabbe and Goyle. Usually Malfoy was showing off for his friends, making himself the center of attention. This evening he seemed sullen and morose. He picked at his food disinterestedly, and made no attempt to engage Crabbe and Goyle, who devoted all their focus to their meal instead.

“My, my, Severus,” an unfortunately familiar voice said, and the chair beside Severus creaked under the enormous weight of Horace Slughorn, “you didn’t tell me what a brilliant Potions class those sixth years are.”

Severus had not considered any of the sixth years particularly adept at Potions. He watched as Slughorn tucked his napkin into the collar of his robes and immediately began to dig into the roasted duck.

“It must have slipped my mind.” Severus wondered which students Slughorn could possibly be talking about. He didn’t think very many had even achieved an “Outstanding” on their O.W.L.

“That Granger girl is certainly something,” Slughorn said. “Not a natural, not like yourself, of course, but her dedication is truly impressive! With her ambition, she could have easily been in our house! Never seen someone so studious, not in many, many years.”

Severus recalled Slughorn making similar comments about another Muggleborn girl who had gone to Gryffindor, another girl Slughorn was certain should have belonged to Slytherin. Severus, too, wished she had gone to Slytherin, but he was not sure it would have changed very much between them. Perhaps it would have only made things worse.

“I take it she won the contest you do each year?” Severus remembered his sixth and seventh year N.E.W.T. classes. He remembered smelling Amortentia and knowing exactly what that floral spray meant. He hadn’t needed the potion to tell him where his heart was focused. He stuffed a helping of potato into his mouth, hoping to hide the flush in his face.

“Oh, goodness, no, Harry Potter did of course.”

Severus choked on his bite of potato.

“There, there, Severus.” Slughorn patted him on the back. “Don’t go gorging yourself too quickly or you’ll end up looking like me!” He laughed good-naturedly and took another bite of his duck. When he had chewed and swallowed, and Severus had washed his food down with a glass of water, Slughorn said, “I can’t believe you didn’t warn me about Potter. He has his mother’s talent, certainly! I haven’t seen a Draught of Living Death brewed with such delicacy since… since… well, since you and her were in my class. The two of you competed very fiercely for that Felix Felicis, if I recall.”

“Yes, we did.” Severus was careful to keep his voice even. He did not need rumors of his affections spreading beyond the company of Death Eaters who already knew. He also did not understand how Potter could have succeeded so brilliantly as to warrant this praise from Slughorn. Surely Slughorn’s admiration was clouded by his belief that Potter was “The Chosen One.” There was no other explanation.

Severus tuned Slughorn out as he began to carry on about other success stories in his class. Severus had little interest in being reminded of old classmates just now, and instead returned to watching Draco. But when he searched the Slytherin table, it appeared that Draco had already slipped away.

“Excuse me,” Severus said abruptly, and stood.

Slughorn gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish searching for air, but as Severus slipped away, Slughorn quickly turned to Flitwick, and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Severus was halfway down the stairs of the entrance hall when a voice only marginally more welcome than Slughorn’s called to him from above.

“Severus — might I have a brief word?”

Severus stopped and turned to face Dumbledore. “You might, sir.”

“I have heard that Potter already has a detention with you this Saturday.”

“My apologies, Professor Dumbledore. I shall make a note that ‘the Chosen One’ is exempt from such consequences for misbehaving.”

“Come now, Severus, there’s no need for that.”

“I do not tolerate disrespect from my students, so if —”

“Severus, you seem to be quite on edge tonight. Has something happened?”

Severus took a moment to swallow down more than just the potato he’d choked on at dinner. He was always on edge when they discussed Potter, and Slughorn had not made this conversation any easier.

“You said you needed a brief word, Professor,” Severus said, “so if you merely wanted to excuse Potter from detention, I should be on my way to find Malfoy, sir.”

“I’ve no wish to excuse Harry from detentions from you nor any other teacher. You decide how to teach your class. But I would ask that you reschedule his detention for Saturday next instead. I have business with him this Saturday and find my calendar rather difficult to rearrange these days.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “You have business with Potter?”

“Saturday next, then, for his detention? I do not wish to keep you any longer, Severus.”

Severus had hardly nodded his agreement before Dumbledore had turned up the stairs and headed back to the Great Hall.

Severus walked to his office, head swimming from his two conversations. What exactly did Dumbledore want with Potter? And why did Slughorn think Potter was worthy of receiving the Felix Felicis? Surely Malfoy should have been the most exceptional Potions student. If Malfoy had been given it, perhaps others would be less likely to be hurt…. Or perhaps Potter’s success was a blessing in disguise.

Snape was so wrapped in thought, he did not notice that his office door was ajar until he reached for the handle, and found it just out of place. He pushed the door open cautiously, hoping to find Malfoy inside.

He was disappointed. There was only a black cat perched on his desk, with intelligent grey eyes that tracked Severus as he entered.

Severus’s dark eyes glanced at the thin white stripe running down the cat’s chest. “You aren’t worried Potter’ll catch you, then? With that highly illegal map of his?”

The cat flicked its tail once. Severus did not know what this meant.

He did not close the door behind him — the last thing he needed was to have to get up and let the cat out again. “I told Malfoy to meet me down here after dinner.” Severus glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was nearly curfew. “It seems he has decided not to show. If he won’t listen to me, I’m not sure how much more help you can be.”

The cat continued to stare at him with large, grey eyes. Its fur was so sleek and black it almost blended into the dark wood top of Severus’s desk. If it were not for the eyes and the streak of white, it would be difficult in the dimly lit office to determine if there truly was a cat sitting on the desk.

Severus sat down at his desk, thinking the cat might leave if he got too close. Instead, the cat stretched out on the desk and lounged as if it were settling in for a nap.

“I imagine you remember where the Slytherin common room is,” Severus said. “You’ll have better luck sniffing him out there, as much as I might wish he were here.”

The cat yawned and stretched again. Its claws scratched the surface of Severus’s desk. He refrained from expressing his irritation.

“The password is ‘Morgan le Fay’ at the moment, though I’m not sure it’ll be useful to you in that shape. If you hurry, you might have some luck slipping in after students hurrying not to get caught out after curfew.”

The cat did not seem interested in hurrying anywhere. It yawned one more time, blinked at him, then lazily hopped down from the desk. Severus could not see it cross the floor, but he assumed it was making its way out of his office and towards the Slytherin common room, on its way to help Draco Malfoy with his highly dangerous task. Or, more accurately, prevent Draco from truly succeeding.

Severus could not do that. He must help Malfoy succeed, and his goal was to make sure no one else got hurt. Regulus Black, however, had not made an Unbreakable Vow. Regulus had not promised to help Draco succeed at any cost. Regulus had not promised to protect Draco no matter what. And Regulus had not promised to kill Dumbledore should Draco fail.

So Severus would do it. When the time came, Severus would kill Dumbledore, and all his ties with the Order would end — all except for one.

#hbp #Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince #hp #hp everyone lives au #hp fic #everyone lives au

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missblissy · 5 years

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Title: Homeless at Home Fandom: Red Dead Redemption Genre: fanfiction, chapters, angst, reader insert, fluff, slow burn, friends-to-lovers, pre-game Characters: Young!Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde, Hosea Mathews, Arthur Morgan/ Reader, Female reader, Arthur x Reader, Arthur Morgan x Reader, Arthur/ You, Young!reader Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven

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((Next chapter is up! More will be coming soon!! Let me know what you guys think will happen next!! Things are about to get hella crazy!!))

The summer was perfect. It was warm, it was breezy, it rained little to none. Since Hosea’s return, the gang and life seemed to revert back to normal. Dutch and Hosea were back to running out of the camp every morning, with Arthur joining on occasion, and coming back with whatever money they could make by the evening.

Bessie, Susan, and Annabelle worked tirelessly to keep the camp organized, stocked, and cooked every meal. Everyone had chores. Everyone had to do their part for the gang, even Uncle who cared for the horses, and you finally started to contribute on a regular basis too.

At the beginning of summer, when Hosea came back, you begged him to take you hunting every morning. He seemed happy enough to take you out and he enjoyed the company. You started hunting close to camp, you stayed in the area and took from the closest resources. You had only known how to use a handgun at first, and you never got anything larger than a small and underfed turkey that was about the size of a chicken. Squirrels and rabbits were the only other things on your list animals you’ve killed.

You could remember that first summer you spent with Arthur and Hosea in the open desert. You remembered how awful it felt to take the life of another living thing. Now with another summer coming at hand, you were barely fazed by the bang of your pistol or the little cries of death that escaped an animal when you killed it.

Somewhere in the middle of summer, after several weeks of hunting with Hosea, you started hunting alone and straying further and further into unknown country sides and forests. Hosea had given you a long yet still small cattlemen repeater. It was perfect for your short size. You had upgraded from killing small animals to medium ones than to large ones very quickly. You spent a lot of time in the forest, not just hunting, but also collecting herbs and wild fruits and vegetables that grew in the area. And so the gang had started to depend on your for food.

There was one day, just a few weeks ago, where you slept in and forgot to go hunting. Dinner that night was sad and pathetic and everyone ate canned food around a fire. Miserable and tried, with a side of attitude at the lack of a good meal, not many people stayed up that night and complained quite a bit. You knew then that you were no longer a child.

Your 14th birthday was only a handful of months away and as you grew older you started to notice not only your role in camp changing but your also your body and feelings.

You were becoming more moody and quick to anger. You were stronger than ever before. You took down a doe for the first time this summer. Lifting up that doe was like lifting up a bag of paper, you tossed it onto Callus’s rear end and tied it down with ease. You had grown taller too, it was easier to climb onto Callus and Arthur didn’t seem like a giant anymore.

Speaking of Arthur, he took great pleasure in pushing your buttons and teasing you relentlessly, though he always made up for it when he went overboard.

Today, however, you wanted to yell at him for stealing your boots. You knew it was him, you left them in a pile under your bed, and this wasn’t the first time Arthur has hidden your things.

You stomped through the camp, barefoot and sour-faced. You found Dutch and Hosea sitting at a table looking over a large map and many papers. You hurried over there and stole their attention, “Where is Arthur!?” You asked with harshly knitted brows.

They shared a look then laughed, “Stole your boots again, huh?” Dutch asked with a sympathetic look. He glanced down at your feet then held back a petty laugh.

“Why does he do this?” You wined while throwing your arms dramatically, “Why do you let him!?” You then pointed a finger at the two older men.

“You’ve got to learn to fight your own battles, girl,” Hosea gave you a pat on the head, “I think I saw him running around with that old dusty guitar down the beach,” Guitar?

When did anyone ever have one of those and where did they hide it?

You left the old men to their battle plans and headed for the stone and pebbled covered beach. Your heart sank in your chest and you grew cold. How on earth could you make it across the beach without your boots? You took one step and felt the pain of a pebble dig into your foot. There was no other option though. You had to do this.

Each step opened a new gate of hell on to you. You thought over time you’d just get used to the pain but it never got better. You gazed down the beach and looked around for Arthur. As far as you could see he wasn’t anywhere around. But then you heard something. Soft and out of tune strings of music drifted to your ears. It didn’t take long to find him then. Arthur was hidden further down the beach where it turned into massive rocks stuck and cluttered together. He was well hidden behind boulders bigger than a house, on a little hidden sandy beach.

You wanted to tackle him and demand your shoes but your curiosity was greater than your rage. He didn’t seem to notice you were there either. You took great pleasure in sneaking around the boulder he leaned on and jump out from behind it, letting out a loud and terrible scream.

Arthur jerk away and the guitar in his hands lunched from his lap and several feet away, he screamed just as loud until he realized it was just you.

“God! Dammit!” He glared at you while you started laughing in fits of giggles that bubbled from your chest.

“That’s what you get for stealing my boots!” You retorted quickly, “I got you good,” The soft sandy beach melted away the pain from the stones and you didn’t seem so mad about your boots anymore. Though you still wanted to find them, “Where’d you throw them this time?” You asked as you picked up the guitar.

“Uncle’s got ‘em,” He replied casually as you handed him the instrument.

You sat down on a rock in the middle of the little beach and let out a groan, “Uh! Why?! Why did you do this to me!?” You knew you’d have to trade something with the old man to get them back, and he’d probably ask for whiskey.

Arthur got comfortable against the rock and just shrugged as he tried to play the guitar again. He wasn’t that good, “Don’t put frog eggs in my boots,” Huh… you did do that, didn’t you?

The memory came through suddenly and you remembered how you filled Arthur’s boots with swamp water and frog eggs for stealing the last of your candy stash. You shook the memory away and declared that you were even.

“What’s with that?” You pointed to the guitar Arthur was having trouble with.

He shrugged again, “It’s Susan, can you believe?” He dodged your question like a pro.

So you asked more clearly, “Why are you playing it?”

Arthur didn’t say anything for a few minutes and he sat there almost frozen. You watched him look at the ground, his eyes dashing around before he glanced at you then shrugged yet again. What was with all the god damn shrugged?

“Girls like guys who can play guitars,” He finally said.

Excuse you? You looked at him, squinting your eyes then tipped your head slightly, “What? No they don’t.”

He shook his head and gave you this bug eyed look, “Yeah they do,” He sounded so serious, like he was a professional on this topic, “They love this shit.”

“Pft!” You let out a winded laugh, “And you think this is gonna make them like you?” You rolled your eyes then crossed your arms, “You really don’t know a thing, do you?

Can you even play it?”

You put Arthur on the spot again and he didn’t say anything for a while. He mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t hear, “Huh?” You called out like an old deaf woman, “I can’t hear you!”

“No!” Arthur barked back, “Well!” He paused and looked around while fumbling on his words, “Not really! I can a little bit… I just…I don’t know any songs…” Something about all that made you laugh harder than you ever have before. Your brought your legs up and crossed them under you while your hands held tight onto your feet, “The virgin boy is trying to seduce women with an instrument he doesn’t know how to use!” You laughed and laughed, rocking back and forth on top of your rock. Just because you were 13 didn’t mean you knew how the bees and birds worked. That was another change you noticed in yourself, you were becoming more vulgar.

Arthur’s face burned bright red and he grabbed a stray little rock in his hand and got ready to whip it at you but he knew better than that. He just scared you instead and threw it inches past your head and into the lake at your back, “Shut up!” He was really mad… or embarrassed… or both.

If you were older you might feel some kind of pity or maybe sympathy for him. But you stopped laughing at him and decided to be nice, “I know a song you can play,” Arthur looked at you with a raised brow, “My mother use to sing this to my father all the time, maybe you can find a girl that likes listening to it?” You said and he gave you another odd look, “Can you play this tune?” You started to hum and sing out a few notes while setting a tempo by lightly tapping your hand onto your knee.

He watched you then fumbled around to try and play by ear. It was a simple tune so it was easy but he still wasn’t the best and it took him several times to get it right. You felt a warm and lifting feeling grow in your chest at the sound of just hearing that tune again, and you hadn’t even got to the song. In your head you could hear the sound of your mother’s voice singing along to the music as your father would play on the few instruments you had in your home. It was something your parents loved doing together, they loved singing for some reason. Your home was always full of songs and music and dancing.

You were glad that you could look back on this memory and feel pride and love and nostalgia instead of pain and depression. When Arthur had played the tune enough times you took in a deep long breath then tried your best to sound good.

“Oh, darling, if I take your hand Will we travel far out West, far across the land! Cuz anywhere is home with you, I'll keep on going til the air is new,”

A smile had climbed onto your face as you remembered the words to the song. It was uplifting and quick, joyful and fast paced. You wanted to dance, but you stayed put on your rock and choose to sway back and forth little by little.

“It's the land and trees I desire! Smoke leaks from your mouth, cuz your heart is on fire! But your travelling song is not like mine, Our paths are different but we'll meet up in time,”

As you sang to the song it was easy for Arthur to keep up, this guitar thing wasn’t as hard as he first thought it was. And the song you choose was sweet and heart felt, it was perfect. There had been the girl in the post office that had his attention. Her name was Heather and she was sweet enough to give you a sugar rush. You had an awful first meeting with her, but the more and more Arthur kept hanging around this poor girl the nicer you grew and put up with her.

“Cuz I'm a weary traveller, you're an aimless wanderer, I'm cautious and I'm wary, you're reckless and you're fairly, Impulsive and unruly, we're bound to meet up surely in due time. Our stories are forever entwined. My babe's got green-brown eyes. But who can keep track, cuz they're changing all the time My eyes are as blue as the sea We'll keep on running 'til we're as far as can be,"

You had this memory in your mind as you felt the words leave your lungs, you could see your mother and father sitting together on the front porch of your home as you sat between them. The three of you sang this song and you could see the love between your parents as if the song was theirs and held a different meaning you just couldn’t quiet understand. Arthur started to mumble along to the words as you sang the chores again.

“As you head down south I'll go east, We'll follow our hearts cuz we're both at peace! But I know it's not our fate, To suffer through a good old fashioned heartbreak! Cuz I'm a weary traveller! You're an aimless wanderer! I'm cautious and I'm wary! You're reckless and you're fairly! Impulsive and unruly! We're bound to meet up surely in due time! Our stories are forever entwined!”

Smiles spread across yours and Arthur’s faces as the song came to an end and he stopped playing the songs melody. A moment passed there where you both stayed there and shared small chuckles. The warmth of the summer blew past you in the wind and you felt freedom trail off you and into the breeze. Arthur set the guitar aside and leaned as far back as he could against the rock, “You said your ma use to sing that song?” He asked. You slid off the rock and paced your way over to the abandoned guitar. You sat in a little grassy patch about a foot away from Arthur and nodded your head. You ran a finger over each string, “Yeah, she loved singing,”

“So did mine,” Arthur was staring up at the white cotton clouds as the drifted on by, “I don’t remember what she use to sing, or what her voice sounded like,” He paused then narrowed his gaze slightly, “But I know she had a beautiful voice, she had the most beautiful voice in the world. I don’t have to remember what she sounded like to know that. I could remember thinking it all the time as a kid how her voice was my favorite thing to hear.”

At that moment you could see a new and fresh pain scatter across Arthur’s face. The pain he felt was raw and hurt in a way it never hurt before. Something in him broke, and he could feel the child inside him cry out. He sat there, upset and stuck in his own head with a sour look on his face until your voice broke him from his own chains.

You weren’t sure what to say or do, “We should head back to camp,” You wanted to get him out of here though and get his mind on something else, “Dutch will probably have something for you to do by now,”

He didn’t say anything. Arthur silently stood up and waited for you to join him at the edge of the little hidden beach. You followed him then stopped in your tracks. The pebble battlefield stared back at you and fear wriggled into your spine, “Arthur-” You reached out and grabbed him by his wrist before he could walk away. He stopped and stared down at out without a word, “Carry me,” You didn’t look at him, you kept your eyes on the beach.

When your grip on his wrist grew tight enough for him to get annoyed, he yanked himself free from your hand, “Fine,” He sounded much more depressed than he looked.

Arthur got down onto one knee and nodded his head, “Get on.”

A silly smile slapped your face and you threw the guitar around your shoulder as the strap held it in place behind you. You threw yourself onto Arthur’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck as he locked your legs in his arms. He got up with ease as if your added weight meant nothing. Either you were lighter than you thought or he was getting stronger than he looked. Regardless, you felt a giggled swell in your belly and you laughed out as Arthur gave you a piggyback ride to camp. Perhaps your laughter was contagious, or maybe hearing your laugh made him feel better, but Arthur’s own low chuckle mingled with your chirping giggles.

“You should give me piggyback rides more often!” You held tight onto him and enjoyed watching the pebbles passing under you.

“No way!” He shook his head once then did his best to look back at you, “I’m only doing this cause you gave me that song to use. I’m gonna need you to write that down by th-” Arthur’s words got cut off as you started to strangle him with your arms, tightening around his neck.

You had a snotty little look of pure evil as you loosened your grip after he stopped walking, “At least say please,” You said as he caught his breath and dry heaved a few times. And how nice of him, he didn’t even drop you, there was still a lot of beach to cover.

Instead, he hiked you up higher on his back and carried on. He even muttered out a, “Please… can you write that down?” Then cleared his throat to cover the fact that his voice sounded like shattered glass.

“Sure, after you get my boots for me,” Confronting Uncle was the last thing you wanted to do. He would annoy the ever life out of you.

“Nah,” Arthur drawled, “You can take care of that yourself,”

“What?!” You were ready to ring his neck again, “At least…. Help me!” Arthur shook his head slightly as he cleared the last stretch of the pebble beach. You expected him to drop you like a sack of potatoes but he carried on and towards camp.

“Nope,” Arthur’s voice had some hidden tone to it. You could hear the snicker building up in his chest.

Suddenly you didn’t want to be piggybacking on Arthur anymore. You started to squirm and wrestle free but Arthur flexed his arms and trapped your legs. He started to run and you were forced to hold on. He rushed into camp, nearly knocking down Susan who barked out a rude comment about being careful.

“Arthur!” You yelled in his ear, “Let me down!” He ignored your command. As he raced past the heart of camp Annabelle and Dutch stared with crooked and confused smiles. It’s safe to say, you were a little scared. What the hell was he doing? With a sudden stop, Arthur halted, slamming his heels into the ground. He spun so fast as he let go of your legs that you were freed from his grip, only to collide with an unnatural amount of hay.

That bastard!! You fell into the hay abyss to never be seen again. Your world was sharp and painful straw used to feed and warm the horses. You clawed yourself free and swatted away the loose ends of hay. When you jumped out of the pile you were ready to claw Arthur to death. It would take hours to get all the hay out of your hair!! But when your bare feet landed onto the hard dirt, he wasn’t there. He was gone yet again.

You wanted to run around and find him and get payback, but Hosea had spotted you and had made his way over with Bessie close behind. You were surprised to see your boots in her hands.

As she handed you your torn raggedy boots, she softly said, “The trouble I had to go through to get these,” You had an idea. Uncle must have talked her ear off by the looks of it. You thanked her and quickly put your boots on.

Hosea spoke up and flashed a crooked smile down to you, “We have to run into town,” He started, “Why don’t you come with us?”

Something smelled fishy, and it wasn’t the lakeshore only feet away. You lifted a brow, “Why?”

His features quickly went from friendly to serious, “Dutch has a task for you, it’s not grocery shopping,” There it was. Hosea went on saying, “Bessie and I are going to be scouting the bank, just watching it. Dutch wants to hit the bank and head west into Oregon with the money.” Oh, oh wow. Okay. You listened intently as Hosea spoke again,

“While we’re scouting the bank,” Hosea paused and handed you several sealed envelopes, “Dutch wants you to plant these in the post office, but you have to sneak in and do so without being seen. These are fraud letters to the bank tellers, if you’re seen with the letters it will blow our cover. It all has to be anonymous.”

The sudden weight of what was happening pulled your heart into a wild flurry of directions as it tried to break from your rib cage. This was the first time you had been tasked with something related to anything illegal, or gang-related. No matter how small this was, it was still a pretty big deal for you.

“Okay,” You said quieter than a mouse. You held about five envelopes in your hands. They felt heavier than the biggest boulder on the beach. Mixed feelings swirled inside you as you started to follow Hosea and Bessie to one of the camp wagons. Nothing else was said as they sat upfront while you took to the back of the wagon were your legs could dangle off and you could watch the roads travel under you.

A bank robbery? Nothing this intense has ever taken place in the short year you’ve been with this gang. You knew about every heist that went down, and 90% of them were stagecoach robberies, the other 10% was conning people out of their money like… like showmen or something. But… a bank robbery? Really? You’ve heard all about the stories of other banks that Dutch, Susan, and Hosea have robbed together in the past, but you never thought it’d happen now.

Something about this felt wrong. You were going to aid in the theft of innocent people’s money. You didn’t dare voice these feelings, nor did you try to ignore them either. As the ride to town started to blend together, you kept getting lost in your thoughts.

Had Arthur ever robbed a bank? No, there was no way. You heard the story about his first robbery, and how that ended in the back of a train’s bank car in the middle of New York. He’s robbed a few stage coaches…. Three or four sounded right. There was no way in hell that Annabelle or Bessie would be involved, right? Annabelle didn’t even know how to shoot a gun. She was a proper lady, madly in love with a man who seemed more of a revolutionary mastermind than a wanted criminal. Bessie was tough, she grew up on a horse ranch, she may have had money but she was no lady. She may dress like a lady when she needs too, but she was more wild and untamed than she looked.

Susan was surely in on this. She was the strongest and most impressing of all the woman in camp. She had been a mistress, she used to run a saloon in her younger days, caring for the… ladies of the night, and teaching them how to seduce men. She grew up rough and lived rough. She feared nothing.

In a way, you looked up to Susan. Though she was quiet nasty to the other woman, she was fairly nice to you when she wanted to be. She treated you the same she treated Arthur, like children.

Before you knew it, you had gotten to town. Bessie and Hosea left the wagon abandon behind some blacksmith’s barn and nearly abandon you too.

“You know where the post office is, right?” Is all Hosea asked you, and once you nodded he was gone and so was Bessie.

Left alone, you took the muddy back roads through town. You did your best to avoid the doctor’s office as you raced between buildings. The post office was another road over, tucked behind the gunsmith and nestled next to a small shabby saloon. You hid behind the gunsmith, looking at the back door to the post office. If you were lucky, Heather was working there today. Maybe you could… trick her or something?

You were not very good at this. After a few minutes of thinking, you came up with a plan. You made your way to the back door, nervous and unsure of yourself. Without a single thought, you knocked your fist onto the door three times then bolted away to hide behind some barrels between the post office and the saloon.

A few seconds passed then someone opened the door. It was Heather! Okay… You got this. You did your best to pick up the biggest rock and you threw it at the trashcan further down the back road. Heather let out a little yelp, then called out, “Hello!?” She took the bait and like the airhead she was, she left the post office door open. She slowly headed the other direction, leaving you time to sneak up to the back door and head inside. You closed the door behind you quietly and locked it to buy you some time.

It was dark inside, and you could feel a cold draft sweep past your feet. The back of the post office smelled similar to a bookstore. You weren’t sure what to do from here. You had to plant these letters. But where? You started to panic, rushing to look around. There were walls filled with little letter cubbies. Some had names under them, some had numbers. There were carts filled with bags, and the bags were filled with letters. You fumbled in the dark, trying to read the little metal plates. Nothing seemed to be helping you though.

Heather would be back any second now. God this was so hard! And scary! What if you got caught? What would you even say?

You shook your head and ran over to another wall filled with letter cubbies. You ran fingers over each plate as your eyes dashed around looking for anything labeled “bank” or maybe “letters heading out.”

Suddenly you found two larger cubbies on the lowest part of the wall. One was labeled “Arrivals,” while the one next to it said “Departures,” This had to be it! When you took a better look, you noticed that was only one letter sitting in the arrivals cubby. It was face down, and it had a wax seal keeping the letter closed.

Innocently, you set your fraud letters down in the departures cubby and forgot about them within a second. You squinted in the low light and reached a hand forward towards the mystery letter. As your fingers grazed the waxy seal, you felt a wave of curiosity swallow you. Something about this letter called out to you.

The wax seal was a deep green and almost looked black in the darkness of the post office. You hesitantly touch the white paper of the envelope. Chills ran down your arm and into your spine the second you made contact with it. Your fingers curled around the corners and you lifted it up. You brought it closer to your face and glared down, trying to make out what the wax seal said. You noticed a large ‘M.D.’ within a crest, with roses clustered around it, and a doe of some kind trapped within the roses. A static sound filled your ears as you realized you had seen this crest somewhere before. The memory tugged out of the murky waters of your mind. A thud boomed from your heart, growing louder and louder in your ears.

Slowly, almost as if you didn’t want to, you turned the letter over in your hand. There was no way to describe the feeling that rushed through you when you read the name and address on that back of that letter. A breath shaky and frail left your lungs, you almost forgot to take another breath in. You felt your fingers grip the corners of the envelope so tightly that you started to tear and wrinkle the yellowing paper.

To: Miss (Y/n) (L/n) Sugartown, Paradise Valley. Nevada.

From: Harrison McDuffy Green Point, Long Island New York.

It was so hard to breath be for some reason. Time stopped. This couldn’t be real. It was a letter… addressed to you… from no one else but your Grandfather. How long had this letter been sitting here? Waiting for you to find it? How…? It must have been the doctor in town! He had to have told your Grandfather you were alive and all the way out here. So many fears and questions ran through your head. The loudest question of all bled into your thoughts… What did he want?

You wanted so badly to open the letter, but a sudden and loud bang came from the backdoor. Heather was still locked outside! You nearly screamed but slapped a hand over your mouth instead. You shoved your letter into a pocket and looked around. You had to get out of here, and quickly.

You ran for the front door, no one was inside, and it was the only way out. You skid through the post office and busted out the front door into the busy and open street.

Several people looked your way, and you froze only for half a second before bolting down the street. You dashed between people and nearly got ran over by a horse, but you made it back to the wagon. Hosea and Bessie were nowhere to be seen. You crawled up into the back of the wagon and made yourself small. Suddenly you felt like crying and laughing at the same time. Everything felt so surreal. Your Grandfather…. Your Grandfather!! He knew you were alive! He was trying to contact you!

The letter burned your side, crumbled up and hidden away in your pocket. It scared you, honestly. There was no way you could have any idea what that letter said, or what your Grandfather wanted. Was he sending an army to save you? Was he aware that you were in the care of THE Dutch Van Der Linde? Did he think Dutch killed your parents and kidnapped you?

Blinking hard, you gave a quick shake of your head and told yourself you’d open the letter once you got home. Until then, you guessed what it could hold inside it. You guessed what threats or pleads could be hidden behind that wax seal. The letter was already heavy, so you guessed how many papers it took to write angry letters.

It didn’t matter. Nothing matter. Well… What mattered most was the Dutch knew your family had reached out and contacted you. A sharp and intruding fear crippled you instantly. How could you tell Dutch this? How on earth could you expose yourself like that? In what way was it even possible for you to approach Dutch and even bring up the idea that your family was most likely threatening him to bring you home safely? No matter what this letter said, you’d be ten times more of a burden than you already were.

No matter what the letter said, it was almost certain that it’d cause more trouble than you were worth.

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jinxfirebolt18902 · 7 years

Text

We stopped fighting. (Newt Imagine)

She couldn't really explain at what exact time everything went to hell with him. Newt had already been nine months in the glade when she arrived. There weren't many gladers as now. Fifteen at most. Elizabeth had been the first girl but not the last one definitely. She thought maybe if she had been the only she-bean nothing would've happened and she could be in a good relationship with him these days. But things didn't work like she wanted. Things worked as the Creators wanted.

Within the first three months everybody knew they shared something. You could see it in their eyes, both hers and his. Something sparkled when they saw each other. The others gladers wouldn't say it often but at least once they had admitted they saw how Newt's eyes filled with some kind of magic when she looked at him. Or even when she smiled. They helpped each other to grow as better persons. It took some time at the begining of course, she wouldn't trust at the first. But when weeks went by, step to step they all learned how to keep working as a society. Then an almost imperceptible strong connection between she and him started to grow.

Eighteen months had passed since the beginning of the maze and everything kept growing, the Glade, the society (with some losses), the woods, the sistem of work. And so had their relationship. The gladers had started to bother them and make jokes about them. A small group annoyed Newt saying he was a coward for not asking her to be his girlfriend. He used to get really mad and tired of listening all of them talking about his life but she was always there to calm him down and change his mind. She talked to him till they laughed of the boys for talking all the time about them. She used to say they had nothing else to talk about. Thing is they were fine and pleased with whatever the level of the relationship was. They knew something happened between them. Oh hell... they knew perfectly well they felt a lot of amazing things for each other. They could literally feel the chemistry fluing. Everyone could honestly. But they felt comfortable, they didn't want to change things for the moment. They were happy and that was all that mattered for them.

All had seemed getting into place. At least she had allowed herself to think that, given they were still in the maze, but she was happy because of him. And vice versa. Now getting back to her wondering about being the only girl, almost every three or four months a girl was sent to the Glade. That wasn't the problem. First of all looking for girlfriends and boyfriends was no one's priorities, in second place even the new girls immediately noticed that thing happening between the couple and third of all sooner or later they always joined the rest of the people who made fun of them and wanted them to get together officially.

Problems arrived when the Creators sent a thirteen years old girl named Christianna. The moment the box's doors opened they all knew she was trouble. She was the youngest ever sent, she was already a crying mess, as anyone else you might think, but what made the difference is that the instant she saw everyone's heads popping up she started yelling like a newborn baby. Literally. And it didn't stop for the longest twenty minutes till Newtie got her to shut up and cry silently.... well better like sobbing.

That moment was historical for the Glade, someone should have recorded all the Gladers sighing in relief when the unbearables cries stopped. Gally even fell on his knees to the ground and thanked the Universe out loud with open arms. Maybe if Newt hadn't been too sweet or pacient to the little girl, she wouldn't have developed such an intense and childish crush on him. And Elizabeth would have saved herself all the bad times. But it's said over there that all those "what if" don't exist, what happened is the only thing that could have happened and it had a reason to be. So anyway little Chrissy had "fallen completely and utterly in love" with Newt. Of course at the beginning he took it as something platonic, he cared for the girl as a sister. He thought it was cute and he devoted a lot of his time to her.

Actually it wasn't that bad till Chrissy saw she had "competition". Soon it had started to bother her when she saw them together. When she saw how Newt hugged Elizabeth, when she paid attention he always had her grabbed by her hand, or that he smiled differently when he smiled to her. Also he spend most of his free time with her. So as any other child would have when jealous, she had begun to interrumpt their moments and make silly stuff.

It had happenend for the very first time in the bonfire of the greenie who came after Chrissy, while some were in the sand circle and others dancing, Minho, Elizabeth and Alby were talking and laughing at Minho's words. Newt had came behind her and slipped his arms around her waist resting his chin on her shoulder. She was still laughing when she had turned her head to look sweetly at him, her laugh calming down to a lovely smile. A smile full of love just for him. She had pecked his lips very quickly and they had continued listening to Minho, who of course had made a silly remark about what just happened.

Initially Chrissy had watched the scene with curiosity. Her brain had received new emotios she hadn't felt yet. She had kept her eyes on them while her brain processed the new information. A frown along with a pout had made an appearance on her face. She'd crossed her arms and with a pouty face she thought what to do about it. When a useful idea crossed her mind she'd immediately stood up and walked in Newt's direction. On the way she had prepared herself, got her eyes glassy and her pout had never faded out. She'd tugged at his hoodie from his back and he'd turned his head to watch her. When he noticed her crying eyes he'd let go of Elizabeth and he'd bended on his knees to look at her given she had her face looking down. He'd grabbed her gently by her shoulders and asked her subtly what had happened. She'd waited a second to answer, just to internally cheer he had gotten away from Elizabeth and to add more suspense to her lil show of fake sadness.

—I miss my parents... I don't want to be here Newtie.—she exaggerated even more her pout and inhaled sharply through her nose.

—Oh... it's okay sweetie. —he'd hugged her and she'd wrapped her arms around his neck. She'd looked up and saw Elizabeth looking at them with cuteness written all over her face. Which had surprised little Chrissy a bit. She thought it would bother her that Newt was now hugging her. She needed it to annoy the older girl. But she was determinated to make her plan work anyway. So she kept it going. Everytime they were together she would go to him with a lame excuse. First times it would be subtle and he wouldn't tell her no, he couldn't. But of course after some weeks it had begun to be a real pain in the ass.

Elizabeth had been working a lot in the Glade for two particular weeks where everyone had been kind of moody. For some reason the boys were a lil tense between each other and add a few girls in her period suffering cramps and bad moods too. So she hadn't seen Newt, who was overloaded with work too. Alby had been testing him to put him as Second In Comand. They'd barely greeted each others in the mornings when they were in different ways to or from breakfast or work. One of those mornings she had been sitting on a table drinking some coffee to wake herself up when Gally'd came and sat infront of her with his breakfast.

—So. How is your lover boy Liz? —he'd made one of his characteristics grimaces raising one eyebrow.

She'd been rubbing the tiredness from her eyes then looked up at him. —I don't know shank. We haven't really talked in a week or so... I have barely saw him actually. —her voice was a little raspy still. She'd laid her face on one hand holding her head trying not to fall asleep on the table.

—You look tired girl. —Liz had remained still looking at him with an expression that said 'seriously?'.

—Really? Maybe because I have been working my ass off... and why is everyone in such a bad mood? Even Fry almost snapped at me. —they both had looked at the boy at the back of the kitchen yelling at the last Greenie.

—I don't know shank but you're right, they are all at the edge. —Gally'd looked around at the other tables to watch the gladers. —Then I'm the "grumpy" one. —Liz'd laughed at him as she stood up and patted his friend on his big shoulder before heading out to the Gardens. When she was arriving her area of work Newt'd walked in a quick pace in front of her. If she hadn't stopped he would've crashed her. —Hey —she'd mumbled. He had looked at her never stopping his steps and answered an empty "hey".

—Well good morning to you too, how have you been? I'm fine thanks for asking —she pretended a conversation with him in a low voice as she grabbed some seeds.

—You're chatting with imaginary friends yet Liz? You're ready to go to the Maze now —Zart'd laughed as he patted her back as a greeting. She'd smiled back. —Hi Zart, good morning.

One more week had passed with a lot of hard encounters between gladers. Loads of hard work, bad quality sleep and poor social skills. Finally a new Greenie would arrive that day. Alby had gathered them all while having breakfast and spoke to them.

—I know there had been a few tough weeks with extra work and we have been all a bit... susceptible because we are all tired but that has ended, good that? Relax a bit, get back to normal pace and don't get over stressed about anything. We'll have a new Greenie today and as always a good fun relaxing bonfire tonight. Thank you for being pacients. I'll help Fry so tonight you'll have some nice tasty meals in gratitude. —everyone'd begun shouting in excitment and happiness, some boys'd whistled and hit the tables making annoying loud noises. Alby'd smiled and nodded with his head.

Liz had been done with her part and she was sitting on the Tower with her legs hanging at the edge. She'd been getting a real break from work and relaxing her body and mind watching the view from the highs. She had been so deep in her world she hadn't heard Newt coming up the stairs. She'd turned to see who was when he'd opened the gate from the floor. She'd gave him a small smile and turned back around. He'd made himself comfortable next to her in the same position.

—Hey... —as she hadn't answer he'd kept talking. —I'm sorry I've been absent the last... three weeks but I'm here now and ready to make it up for the time apart from you.... —he'd smiled at her and so had she.

She'd pushed him lightly by his shoulder —I missed you, Slinthead. —Newt laughed as he slided his left arm to hug her and drag her against him. After he kissed her head as she hugged him back by his torso. They had lingered there for a long time watching the sky change colours and the life in the glade get ready for the party. Chrissy was a ball of fire by dinner time. She had been watching them and her young blood was boiling. She had intended to interrumpt them again but one of the girls, the closest to Liz, foresaw her intentions and fooled the little girl for once.

—Hey lovebirds! Dinner is ready! We have a Newbie to welcome don't be rude and come down to show some manners! —they'd heard Alby's voice from behind so they were poking out their heads to see him, Alby'd smiled at them and turned around to walk away from the Tower and back to the crowd.

They'd looked at each other as a silent agreement to go with the others. She'd been ready to stand up but he'd grabbed her face quickly and kissed her with so much love she had wanted to froze the moment and stay like that forever. After the sweet kiss she'd smiled and stood up. Liz'd given him her hand for him to take it and help him stand on his feet. Her smile had never faded.

[[gifs not mines]]

#tmr imagine #newt tmr #tmr newt #newt tmr imagine #tmr newt imagine

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