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free-pool-trash · 3 years ago

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x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long 😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

#george weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #fred weasly x reader

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slasherbastard · 3 years ago

Note

wanna say that I first saw some of your things on ao3 and you're probably one of my favorite slashers x reader authors!!!!! if requests are still open with the prompt list, how about 9, 12, and 13 with Billy Lenz. (and preferably male reader.)

(gif credit: tamajoshi)

You and Billy decided to go camping Word count: 1529 Note: Thank you! You're so sweet aw!

You don't know how you did it but somehow you managed to convince Billy to get out of the attic and go camping with you. You were a little worried about how the camping trip would play out since you knew that Billy wasn't the outdoorsy type - in fact, you weren't actually sure when the last time Billy went out was since all he seemed to know were the attics of the different houses he's hidden in - but at the same time you were way too excited to worry about it. You had never been camping before except for that one time when your parents set up a tent in your backyard for you and your siblings to sleep in but it didn't last since the three of you chickened out after hearing weird noises barely an hour after you'd gotten ready to sleep but this time you were planning on doing it right.

our siblings however were replaced by a man who you found hidden in the family house's attic. It was a long story that started with a sorority house near the university a few miles out from where you lived, your sister lived in the sorority house he was hiding in at the time and did manage to escape and the so called "moaner" was never found. . .until a few weeks after the incident. At first you thought he showed up so he could terrorise your sister who was still very shaken up about what happened, You hadn't realised he was even there until you woke up one night to soft footsteps pacing around the second floor just outside your bedroom door. Thinking it was your sister, you opened it but instead you were met with an unfamiliar face and that's when he told you he wasn't here for your sister but he was actually there for you. You came to visit your sister during the school year and that was the moment you got to witness one of the moaner's infamous phone calls your sister had been telling you about first hand as you had to answer the call because the girls thought it'd be funny to hear the moaner's reaction to a guy, but he just seemed way more into it. So now here you were, going on a camping trip with him.

As you drove you hyped this idea up to Billy, he was nervous about leaving the attic but he was also excited because he got to spend the weekend with you where he didn't have to worry about anyone in your family discovering him accidentally. Billy didn't really know much about camping except from what he'd seen in the horror movies you watched with him that one time but you had to reassure him that this wasn't going to be like Friday the 13th and as much as you wanted to meet Jason Voorhees, he wasn't invited. 'Remember, what do we do if we see any random rock piles or stick figures hanging from trees?'

'Get out of there?'

You nodded and pulled up into the parking lot and split all the bags and equipment between the two of you and set off to find the camping site while Billy quietly muttered things to himself about witches and masked murderers. Soon enough the two of you found a clearing in the middle of the woods just perfect for the occasion and you began building the tent while Billy was out not too far from you collecting sticks for the fire. Of course you had planned to do all the cliché things you thought about when camping came up, smores, campfire songs and ghost stories to name a few of them. You wanted to try sleeping under the stars because you thought it was really cute but then you remembered that bugs exist so that was instantly scratched off the list. You were so caught up with setting up the tent that you hadn't noticed Billy had already came back holding enough sticks to build a small hut with, you could really tell that this was Billy's first time camping. Also how did he carry all of them? Sometimes you forget that Billy is stronger than he looks - not that strong, but still a bit strong.

'Oh! Billy- you scared me. Just put those somewhere out of the way and come help me with this.' You nodded your head towards the tent and continued hammering the stakes down, you heard the abundance of sticks hitting the ground before Billy popped up beside you. 'Can I trust you with this?' You held the hammer up and he nodded a little to excitedly and you hoped that it was because he was excited to be helping you and not because he planned on doing you know what. 'Okay, just hammer in the other two stakes like this. I'm gonna start on the fire.' You handed Billy the hammer and told him to be careful before going off and picking up more than enough from that pile of sticks Billy found and began setting up the campfire, holding it up with rocks you'd also gotten him to find while you were still working out how to put the tent up.

By the time everything had been set up night was already falling since you'd left a little later than you wanted to since you had to be 100% sure that nobody would be home to see the two of you sneak out - but that meant that it was closer to dinner and you of course wanted to make smores, it was exciting since you hadn't had proper smores in a long time and you were sure that Billy had never had smores in his life. At first Billy was just happy eating the ingredients on their own when you had your back turned to him but eventually you managed to make a smore and gave it to Billy who didn't hesitate and bit into it, his eyes immediately lighting up as he swallowed the treat whole without choking and looked at you. 'More.'

'Hey hang on, I need to have some too.' You laughed and handed him a stick with a marshmallow on it. 'Don't eat this one this time or we won't have enough for the rest of the trip.'

After "dinner" the two of you cuddled while you played with Billy's hair idly and warmed up by the fire - Billy kept trying to touch the flames and playing with his hair was the only thing keeping him still and preventing himself from getting hurt. In that moment time seemed to stop and nobody else existed except for you and him and you couldn't help but look watch him and wonder if it was possible to love someone so much even though he was walking proof of it. He turned to you and his expression softened. 'Is Y/N okay?'

'What?' you shook your head, not paying attention.

'Is Y/N okay?'

You smiled. 'Yeah, I was just thinking about something.'

'Me?'

'Maybe.' You tried to hide your smile but couldn't help yourself as you looked up at him and realised he was a bit of a messy eater. 'You still have crumbs on your face. Come here.' You pulled yourself up to his face and brought your hand up and swiped the crumbs from his lip before the same idea clicked in both your minds and the two of you leaned and kissed, his hands found your back while you gently tugged at his hair but pulled back before things got too heated. 'Your lips still taste like chocolate.'

A yawn escaped your mouth, ruining that small moment you were having and you dropped your hand and rested your head on Billy's shoulder. 'It's getting late, maybe we should call it a night.'

'No. We still have so much to do! Billy wants to hear ghost stories.'

'We can do that tomorrow, plus we're here for two more days.'

Billy sighed in defeat but got up and got into the tent while you put out the fire before joining him only to find a sight that made you laugh. You had entered the tent to find that all the pillows were on Billy's side as he comfortably snuggled into them and pulled his sleeping bag up to his chin. The only things safe from his wraith was your sleeping bag and the extra blanket that was stretched out over yours and Billy's sleeping bags that you brought for extra warmth. Rolling your eyes, you got into your own sleeping bag and moved sideways so your head was resting on Billy's stomach instead of the thin fabric of the tent's floor. Confused, Billy tried to sit up and you met his eyes. 'What? You took all the pillows, so I'm using you as one.' You innocently spoke and curled up into him

'Say that again.'

'Hmm? Were you not listening.'

'No. Billy just likes hearing your voice.' You hid your face as you felt it heating up, sometimes he could be the horniest mess of a human but he was also such a sweetheart.

#slasher #writing #horror #black christmas #billy lenz #billy lenz fluff #fluff #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz x male reader

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vulpes-z3rda · 4 years ago

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how you met them

a/n: how are we all feeling?? i apologise if the writing isn’t the best, its old content from my wattpad that i’m moving across!!

Tanjiro

Well, you met at the Final Selection. He was running through the wisteria flowers on the trees and had finally reached the end of it all. Before he could walk further into the opening, he walked right into someone. "Hey. Watch where you're walking, will you?" You grumbled, saddened by the loss of your friends in the forest. He gulped at your facial expression and rubbed the nape of his neck in embarrassment. "Ah, I'm sorry... I'm Tanjiro Kamado! It's nice to meet you..." He trailed off not knowing your name. You huffed and gave him a small smile. "Y/n... Y/n L/n! It's nice to meet you too Kamado-Kun!" He smiled and walked with you over to the twins that stood before you all to explain your swords. "I hope we work together L/n-Chan." Giggling you nodded. "Me too!" With that, the pair of you stood together, a sense of pride and happiness surrounding you both. "Hey, Kamado-Kun?" You said quietly. "Hmm? What's wrong?" He asked, concerned about you. "I promise to protect you and stay by your side!" You pledged with a wide smile. He chuckled and nodded. "I promise to do the same L/n-Chan."

Inosuke

You both met at the butterfly estate. You had already become a demon hunter and was working under Rengoku. This is what attracted him to you originally. I mean Rengoku was strong so in his mind, you would be a worthy opponent to fight right? He was right about that, however, he could never get to ask. So he charged at you with his pig assault as he usually does. "Huh? What happened?" You asked in a daze as he'd made you hit your head rather harshly on the floor. "Fight me!!" He yelled as steam came out of his boar mask's nose. "Get off me, you idiot!!" You yelled as you pushed him off you and stood up dusting yourself off. That was until you froze and looked up at him in pure rage. "You... YOU RIPPED MY HAORI INOSUKE!!!! YOU DUMBASS!!" You screeched as you chased after him. "AHAHA!!! ARE YOU GONNA FIGHT ME NOW Y/N!?" He yelled back in near-psychotic joy. "Fight you? I'm gonna beat your ass, you damned idiot!!" You quietly threatened as you ran at him. "Rengoku? Shouldn't we stop this?" Tanjiro asked as he and Zenitsu stood beside him. "Hmmm, no. Let them teach young Inosuke a lesson."

Zenitsu

You were the baker's daughter at a village at the foot of a mountain a few miles east of the Demon Slayer Corps. For two weeks teens and children had been going missing, adults had started to go too. So naturally, people began to suspect a demon was behind the disappearances. Your village elder sent for some demon slayers to come and help but it was too late. "HELP! PLEASE, SOMEONE!!" You screamed as a demon had begun to chase you after killing your father. "No one is coming to help you, brat!" He screeched as he pinned you by the neck to the wall of a house. A flash of yellow flew past you and stopped to your left. "HEY! Get your hands off them!" A blonde boy yelled as he drew a sword out on the demon. "Ah, a slayer? This should be fun..." He smirked as he dropped you to the ground. Before he could even react, the blonde had sliced his head off. "Are you okay?" He asked with obvious tears in his eyes. "No.. my dad... he killed him!!" You wailed in pain. "Hey... come with me so we can protect you. My name is Zenitsu." He exclaimed trying to comfort you. You stood up and grabbed his hand. "I'm y/n... please don't leave me Zenitsu.." You whimpered, scared of anything and everything at that moment. "I wouldn't dream of it Y/n-Chan."

Giyu

You were a simple first aider at the Demon Corps who worked under Shinobu at the butterfly estate. At first, he gave you no attention. I'll be honest, he didn't even know who you were. That all changed when he was injured after a mission in a village that had more demons than anticipated. Aoi and Shinobu had forced him to go to you as you were one of the best aiders there. "Y/n? We have one more for you to help." Aoi sai giving you a slight smile. "Hmm? Ah, okay. Just place him on that bed there and I'll get right to it and help him." You stated blandly looking at them with dull e/c eyes. Despite this, upon seeing him, they lit up slightly. "You were injured on a mission right Tamioka-San?" You asked as you cleaned his cuts. He looked at you curiously and nodded. "How do you know my name?" He asked blandly. "It's my business to know everyone who Shinobu works alongside so I can welcome them if I need to. I'm Y/n L/n by the way." A small, unnoticeable chuckle left his lips as you bandaged his wounds. "Thank you L/n." You smiled at him and carried on. "I'm simply doing my job, there's no need to thank me."

Muzan

He was strolling through a random village in which he knew demons had been attacking continuously for a few days or so. The pained cries of devastated families were like music to his sinful ears. What can I say? He has lived for a thousand years and has come to enjoy killing humans and seeing them as less than worth sparing. Well... that was until he saw you. A particularly aggressive demon had trapped you in an alleyway. "Oh god... I'm going to die..." You whispered as the demon lifted his hand to hit you. Now he was just as confused as you must have been when he grabbed the demon and immediately snapped its head clean off. "Sir? How did you..." You looked up into his eyes and for some reason calmed down. Heaving out a sigh he helped you up and helped you. "Thank you for saving me... I'm Y/n L/n." He chuckled at the bluntness of your reply. "You're welcome. I'm... I'm Muzan." Smiling you kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Muzan.." A blush overcame his pale face and he smiled slightly. More to the point, he was surprised you hadn't recognised his name.

Genya

You met him before everything when you were both kids and grew up together. However, when your father was killed by a demon, your mum took you away from everything and forced you to move in with her friend Ubuyashiki Kagaya. It wasn't until he became a demon slayer did you meet again. "Y-y/n? Is that you?" He asked looking at you, unsure of whether he had called the right person or not. "Huh? Genya?" You asked in confusion. "Why're you here? You know where you are right?" You asked with a small smile. "I'm a demon slayer... where did you go way back then?" He mumbled as he walked up to you and hugged you. Giggling you shook your head and hugged back. "My mum brought me here and I was trained to be a demon slayer. I'm a pillar alongside your brother!" The shock on his face was priceless as he stared at you in disbelief. "YOU'RE A PILLAR!?"

Kyojuro

"I need to get away from here..." You whispered as you ran, well tried to, away from the demon who was once your brother. "Y/n!? Come back, I only want a piece of you and then I'll let you go~" He tormented gaining on you. "NO!" You yelled before tripping on a tree root. "Oh no... no no no." The crazed and human meat starved demon stared at you hungrily. "There you are." He growled as you scooted away from him. "B/n... please... please don't do this!" You cried. "Well, why would I spare y-" You looked up to see his head cut off and rolling over the floor and a tall blonde man stood there with a katana. "Are you okay?" He asked holding a hand out to help you up. "He... My brother... I." Stuttering for a reply you looked up at him crying. "Please... please don't leave me..." You begged quickly standing up and gripping onto his haori. He gave a small chuckle and patted your head to try and comfort you. "I won't... I'm Kyojuro Rengoku." After introducing himself, you pulled away and looked up at him. "I'm y/n. y/n l/n."

Sanemi

You were a demon much like Nezuko. You'd never eaten or harmed a human and wished to help them against Muzan and to make your situation better, it was Genya who brought you back to the Demon Slayer Corps. "Another one? Why are so many docile demons appearing??" Gyomei questioned as he stared at you. You smiled back at him and looked over to Genya. "What's gonna happen to me Genya?" The pillars looked on in shock, apart from Sanemi, and fussed over how you were able to talk. "Will you guys shut up? They're nothing amazing. Just another demon like that other one." He grumbled as he glared at you. Giggling you sauntered over to him. "Y/n? Don't annoy Sanemi..." Genya mumbled, being flustered about the demon he brought home annoying his brother. "I'm simply checking out something that's captured my interest!" A blush spread across the Wind Pillars face like an out of control wildfire. "Will you shut up? You're fucking annoying." You laughed and smiled tilting your head. "But I want to get to know you Sanemi-kun~" You teased and you smirked at him. "GENYA!! GET Y/N AWAY FROM ME BEFORE I HIT THEM!!" He shouted. "Sanemi!! Don't you dare!!" The pillars yelled as they held him back. "I'm going to like you a lot I think..." You said with a light blush.

Mitsuri

You met Mitsuri when she was on a mission with Obanai. You weren't the demon they were after but you know if they found you, they'd kill you. However, after seeing them fight and both become injured by the demon which has been terrorising the village you lived in, you decided you'd help them and heal their wounds. "You. You're a demon." Obanai glared at you after you had swiftly chopped the head of the demon off and turned to face them. "Yes. A demon that just helped you. I could've left you to suffer." You said as you kneeled beside Mitsuri and looked over her injuries. "Which ones hurt more?" You asked as you got ready to heal them. "These one do.." She whispered as she pointed to the deep scratches on her arm. "HEY! Get away from Mitsuri!!" Mitsuri told Obanai to calm down as a pink light surrounded her and her wounds healed rather quickly. "See Obanai? They helped me!" She exclaimed as she smiled at you. "You're another docile one... like the one that kid has." Obanai still glared as you turned to face him. "It's your turn. Let me help you." Reluctantly he allowed you to heal his wounds. "What's your name?" Mitsuri asked as you stood up and stretched. She smiled and walked closer to you, much to Obanai's dismay. "Y/n... y/n l/n." You answered as you went to turn and walk away. "Hey wait! You can come with us back to the Butterfly Estate! There's another demon there so you won't be alone and you can continue to help us!!" She exclaimed as she giggled at your confused expression. "Hmmm, I'd like that I think Mitsuri..." You said with a small smile. "Yayyyy!!! Come on!! Everyone is going to love you!!"

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house-of-galathynius · 4 years ago

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Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Three ~ Chapter Five

Chapter Four: Chances

Aelin had sat on her bed thinking of only Rowan. She had tried and failed to read a book, as well as braid her hair and even as far as trying to brush Fleetfoot's coat. But no matter what she did, her mind wandered back to the Fae prince who was her soul-bonded.

Her maids had knocked on the door an hour ago to dress her for dinner. She had wanted to form an excuse as to why she could not go, but nothing came to mind. And she was sure Aedion or Orlon, or both would come up here and drag her down either way. So she put on her finest gown and let the maids put her hair into a pretty updo and place the tiara on her head. And when she looked in the mirror she balked. Aelin knew she was pretty, as she’d been told by many suitors. But when she gazed at her reflection she really felt pretty. Her cheeks had a rosy glow to them and her eyes were bright. She felt good.

The maids had let her stare in the mirror a few seconds longer before they ushered her away and down to the dining hall. Elspeth giving her a wink as she departed.

Aedion was at the door when she arrived, looking handsome in all his finery. He seemed to think the same as he grabbed her hand and spun her around before grinning. “You look… you look like a princess.”

“Don’t you start.” She rolled her eyes.

“I look forward to hearing all about it later. The maids in the kitchen wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“What were you doing in the kitchen? Terrorising the cooks again?” She elbowed his side.

“I haven’t done that since I was ten.” He elbowed her right back. “I was doing a favour for a friend.”

“Oh, you mean you were doing whatever you could to get into Lysandra’s good graces? Honestly Aedion, you’d have an easier time winning Ren over than you do Lys.”

“Very funny Aelin. Should I bring up all your successful relationships? Shall we talk about the mating bond now or later?” That lions grin crept up his face and Aelin didn’t know whether to start a brawl or to laugh along with him.

“Careful Aedion, she could easily take you in a fight.” Her father stopped behind her, laughing quietly at their bickering.

“Not without her flame she couldn’t.” Another grin.

“Settle down you two. We do have company. I don’t think they want to see the two of you bickering all night.” Her mothers words silenced them. Aelin poked her tongue out at Aedion as he poked her side, both of them earning stern looks from her parents.

When they entered the hall Orlon had already been seated at the head of the table, Sellene at the other end. Dispersed along the table were a mixture of Whitethorn family members and spouses, along with members of the Terrasen royal family. Servers were showing everyone to their seats, but even so, Aelin made her way to the usual spot she took at functions such as these, when the server intercepted her before she could sit.

“Your Highness, you will be seated here tonight.” She looked to the chair that had been pulled out for her and cringed. Sat in the chair to the left was Rowan. She glanced to Orlon who was actively avoiding eye contact, but she knew that he had been the one behind this little rearrangement.

Despite her disapproval, Aelin sat and smoothed her dress as she did. Moments went by with silence, people around her chattering away. She tried and failed to meet the eyes or Orlon, instead she had the pleasure of Aedion laughing at her expense. She wasn’t going to give Aedion the upper hand tonight, so she decided to suck it up and turn to Rowan.

“You clean up nicely.” As if he had not been dressed to the nines the first time she met him.

“As do you, princess.”

Silence.

“Did you find your way to your rooms? The castle can be… large.”

Since when had she become such a bumbling fool?

“I did. I also had the chance to inspect the training facilities.”

“Oh? And were they to your liking?”

“They’re adequate. If you would be up to it we could use them tomorrow?” She hadn’t lied when she had told him she had never trained with anyone before. The only person had been her instructor, who had never really trained with her, more like watched and criticised. Her flame was more a party trick than anything, she wasn’t sure it would be that impressive using it in front of Rowan. But despite her reservations about the mating bond and him, she still agreed.

Dinner went smoothly, their conversation remained strictly polite; talking about the food, the wine, the dessert. All too soon it was over and Aelin was thankful to be excused.

She returned to her room and jumped at the sight of someone on her bed. Her flame immediately sprung from her fingers and she edged closer, only to sigh in relief when she saw Sam.

Sam?

“What the hell are you doing in here?” She quickly shut the door and lit the few candles and fireplace.

“I needed to see you. Lysandra said you weren’t going to be able to see me for a few weeks… so I asked her to help me here.”

“If someone catches you…”

“I know, but I had to see you.”

She stepped out of the slippers she wore and undid her hair letting it fall down her back.

“You can’t be here Sam. I’m serious.”

“I’ve never seen you dressed liked that. You look royal.” He smirked.

“That’s because I am royal you fool.” She threw a cushion at him and then collapsed onto the sofa. “What is it Sam, that couldn’t wait until I came to you?”

“I wanted to know if you’d thought my offer over again? I’ve found someone who will take over the library. And there’s a ship leaving for the Southern Continent in four weeks. It’s enough time to sort everything out, for you to—“

“I can’t, Sam.”

He stopped where he had been pacing by the fire. “You… can’t?”

Aelin’s body went hot and her pulse quickened. She loved Sam, but when she looked at him… there was no buzz. No spark. Not like what she had felt with Rowan. And she knew that was because of the mating bond… but it still meant something. Hadn’t she always known it was never going to be forever with Sam? Hadn’t her parents said the same thing to her?

“I want to run away with you. Or I did… last night. But what would happen in sixty years? When you’re ageing and I’m still what I am now. What happens when you’re gone? I can’t come crawling back asking for the throne. Not after abandoning it like that. I have responsibilities, you know this.” She stood now. “My life is here Sam, it will be forever.” She turned to face him fully. “I love you, but my answer is no.” She choked on the last words.

He stood there, staring into the flames. Neither of them said a word, the only sound came from the crackling of logs.

Sam finally turned to her. “I had really hoped that you would give it all up. That what you told me about wanting to be free, wanting to live your own life, was true. That you would realise that your love for me was stronger than your love for this.” He gestured to the room, the palace, Terrasen. “I would give up everything for you Aelin. I would lose everything if it meant we could be together.”

She was crying now.

“And deep down, I thought maybe you would give up your immortality. Give up that side of you so we could have a normal life together.” Sam wiped tears from his own face, but still she said nothing. “I was never going to be good enough, was I?”

Her heart cracked at his words. “You are enough Sam. But my country, my kingdom… it will always come first.”

“Does the fact I would give it all up mean nothing to you?”

“Of course it does! But I never asked you to do that. I told you from the beginning this would be temporary. We would continue as long as we could, but one day I would have to step up and be the person I have to be. For my kingdom, for my family… and for me.”

He slid his hands down his face, despair in his eyes. “I should have known better.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” She was angry now.

“It means that I was right when I first met you. You are spoiled and selfish and only care for yourself. Maybe it’s a good thing it’s ending now. I’ll save myself the pain in the future.”

His words stung. Sam had been angry at her before, but he had never been cruel. A knock at the door had them both freezing.

“Aelin? Is everything okay?” Rowan. What was he doing here?

“Everything is fine.” Sam was staring at her, then at the door, trying to put it together. She didn’t take her eyes of Sam, he stared right back. Neither of them said a word until Sam gave a slight shake of his head and made off through the balcony doors and out into the night. She didn’t look away even as Rowan knocked at the door once more.

“You might as well come in.” She sighed.

The door creaked open, slowly at first, and then wider as he let himself in. Rowan left the door ajar, letting her know he had good intentions, whatever they were.

“What are you doing here?” She glanced once more at the balcony doors, sure that Sam was far enough away.

“I could... smell something was wrong.”

Right. The Fae senses.

“It’s nothing, just a sad book.”

“I’d believe that if it wasn’t just you I could scent.”

He could smell Sam.

“Rowan…”

“I have no claim over you, so what you do is none of my business. But I had to check you weren’t in danger.” Her heart panged in her chest, warmth spreading at his protectiveness. She returned to the sofa and motioned for Rowan to join her. She beckoned the guard outside and requested tea for them both. She could see Rowan’s hesitation as he debated whether this was a good idea.

“The door will remain open, no funny business, don’t worry.” She gave him her signature grin and he relaxed as he came to sit next to her. They had been closer at dinner, but the intimacy of them both being in her room… it was new and strange to her. Sam had never been in here.

“Was the male…” He trailed off.

“He’s my… was my—“ she cringed at the next words. “Was my lover.”

He flinched at the word, she felt his jealousy even if he did not fully show it.

“You’re not planning on courting me for these few weeks just to reject me?”

“That was not what I was planning on doing.” Aelin continued. “To be honest, I didn’t know what I was planning to do. I’ve never been in this situation before.” She picked some lint from her skirts.

“You loved him?”

She gave a small nod. “He asked me leave with him, to runaway. Head to the Southern Continent, to build a life there. I didn’t give him an answer, so he came here to get one.” She didn’t dare look Rowan in the eyes. “I told him I couldn’t do it, and he said some things… and then he left.”

“Did he hurt you?” A guttural growl.

“No! Not physically. He would never hurt me. He’s just upset that I said no, that’s all.”

Aelin’s own voice was low, sad. The maid entered the room carrying a tray of tea and sweets, she placed it on the low table in front of them and gave a small curtsey before scurrying away.

“Do they always look terrified around you?” He picked up a cup and poured some of the herbal tea in.

“They do not look terrified!” She swatted his arm. “My maids love me, I let them eat sweets with me and I always give them gifts on holidays.”

Rowan’s eyes glittered with laughter, his body relaxing into the sofa. “Well, she looked like she couldn’t get away fast enough.”

“If she looked terrified it’s because you’re in here looking grumpy.” Rowan barked a laugh and Aelin could’ve sworn it was one of the loveliest sounds she had ever heard.

Rowan stayed for another two cups of tea and then politely excused himself, but promising Aelin that he would see her tomorrow for training.

She went to sleep that night, not thinking of her fight with Sam, and the way that they had ended; but of Rowan and those pine green eyes.

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kingreywrites · 4 years ago

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Fearless

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 1792

Lance Strongbow Appreciation Week Day Two: Fears

Summary: Cassandra doesn't understand why Lance is so easily scared of the tiniest things. Lance doesn't believe Cassandra when she says she's fearless.

Note: this is my very first fic without Eugene or Rapunzel and it feels weird asfgdsdsg I just thought the parallels between Lance and Cass were interesting :’)

Read on ao3

Lance had always been a scaredy cat. He had been mocked for it a lot in his life but, honestly, he wasn't really ashamed of it. The world was full of things that could and would kill you if you didn’t pay attention, and Lance didn't want to mess with any of them. If that meant he overreacted from times to times, then so be it - he'd rather be ridiculous than dead.

Cassandra was the one person who had the most trouble understanding that. She was kinda the one person who had the most trouble understanding him in general, at least within their group of friends, but she was never as annoyed with him as when he was screaming for something she thought was inconsequential.

"Don't squish it!" she yelled from across the castle's hallway, putting the laundry she was carrying down to quickly get the spider currently terrorising Lance out of the way.

"Please, please take it away," Lance squeaked, not able to contain another scream when the creature inched closer again. "Cass!"

"Stop screaming I'm on it," she grumbled, gently opening her hands for the spider.

It took a few seconds, but it finally climbed on them, and Cassandra didn't lose any time opening a window and putting it down to safety. Lance was still vaguely moaning at the sight, and only allowed himself to take a breath when the window was closed again. Spiders, he thought with a shiver.

"I could have handled it," he announced proudly, before her glare chilled him to his bones. "Or maybe- maybe not. Thank you Cass," he grinned awkwardly. Was his voice high-pitched? It sounded high-pitched.

She exhaled loudly, still annoyed. "You know, you can't expect people to always be there for you each time you're face to face with a spider. What would you have done if I hadn't been there?"

"Squish it?" A beat. "... Not squish it?" Another, longer beat. "What do you want from me Cassandra-"

"Forget it," she sighed, straightening her handmaiden's dress. "You'll have to grow out of this soon enough."

This time, it was his turn to frown. "Everyone has fears, Cassandra. Even adults, and it's nothing to be ashamed of."

She threw him a doubtful glance. "I don't."

"Sure you do. Everyone does."

There was something in her eyes that he couldn't name. A shadow, that disappeared as soon as he got a glimpse of it. "Nah," she laughed, "I'm fearless."

He hadn't known what to make of that back then. Of course, he knew Cassandra was not as easily scared as he could be, but she… He was pretty sure everyone had fears. And he also knew how easily hiding these fears away could lead to reinforcing them, because they were allowed to grow little by little, until you couldn't stop them from rearing their ugly heads.

When Cassandra blew up at Rapunzel in the Great Tree, Lance thought this was it. The stress and the fears she had been keeping at bay until now were crashing down on her, and he could clearly see that she was as angry about Adira's plan as she was plainly scared - though of what, he wasn't exactly sure. It was fear for their lives, sure, but- something more was at stakes, and he had no idea what was going on in her head.

He cringed when Rapunzel shut her down harshly.

And then, he didn't have the time to think about it anymore - everything was going too fast, the Hector guy came back to attack them, then he came back again but this time… possessed? By the tree? And Lance would have freaked out about that if five minutes later he wasn't hanging upside-down with vines squeezing the life out of him, and- and Eugene was screaming. He seemed in way more pain than everyone else, as if whatever evil spirit was at work here knew it would get a raise out of Rapunzel. Lance had no idea what was happening, or why Rapunzel suddenly started to recite an incantation that seemed to make her deadly, but all he knew is that when they both fell, Eugene was in so much pain he lost consciousness.

And he was terrified, because two of his best friends were in danger, and he'd take a room full of his worst fears if that one - the one where he lost everyone he cared about again, the one where he was helpless to save anyone - didn't come true.

Everything ended well, somehow. Eugene was banged up, but alive; Rapunzel seemed to have been able to overcome the weird spell she had been using, and Cassandra was sullen, but alright too, and had apparently found the time to get a brand new outfit during this mess.

It was all that mattered, right?

But, once everything seemed settled, and they stopped again for the night, Lance couldn't get Cassandra's reaction out of his mind. He had never seen her as frazzled, as… scared, as she seemed to be back there. And as much as he liked to play his own fears for laughs, he knew how easy it was to lose yourself to them, to the paranoia and uncertainty that being terrified brought. He wanted to talk to her, but he didn't know how she would take his advice - despite the time spent together on the road, Lance felt like he still didn't know her that well.

When he saw her sneak away unnoticed while they were setting campement, he hesitated for a few minutes, before deciding to follow her. She had barely talked since they got out of the tree, hadn't even insulted Eugene once, and he could see that things were still tense between Rapunzel and her and he… He wanted to check on her.

"Cassandra?" he called when he was pretty sure he was about to see her - she hadn't hidden her traces, and he wanted to warn her that it was him, to avoid any sword related incident. She was always quick to take out intruders, their first meeting was certainly a testimony of it. "Hey, Cass-"

She was sitting down between trees, some parts of her armour discarded around her and her arm-

"What do you want," she bit out, not even looking at him as she tried to apply a bandage with her left hand. It was shaking.

"What- Jesus Cass what happened?" he breathed out, coming closer even though the sight of her burnt skin made him queasy. "Are you okay? Do you- Did you clean that? Wait, is it-"

"If you're here to ask questions then you should go," she laughed bitterly, before cursing when the bandages escaped her grip.

"Let me-"

"Go!" she yelled, finally turning towards him. Her eyes were wild and angry, and on any other occasion, she would have scared him away but… But this was different. So completely different. "I don't- I don't need your pity."

"I... alright, alright," he said, making his voice as calm and soothing as he could. He wanted to push, to understand how he could have missed this, but he could see that she wouldn't appreciate that. "I won't ask any question, alright? Just… Just let me help you bandage that?"

She stayed silent a few seconds, scanning his expression for… earnestness, he supposed. Then she nodded, and he took the last steps separating them, sitting down and picking up the gauze and roll of bandages from her.

From up close, the burn was even more horrifying. The blistered and blackened skin made his gut roll uneasily, and it took a lot out of him to keep his expression as neutral as he could, to be sure that Cassandra would let him help her. A life on the street had taught him a lot about taking care of wounds -you would not believe how accident prone Eugene had been at first- but he had never been faced with one as serious as that one.

Breathing in shakily, he applied the gauze lightly where it was possible, and started to wrap the bandages around it. Even with his two hands, it was a difficult job - he couldn't help but wonder what result Cassandra would have obtained by herself. He couldn't help but wonder if she would have hidden that away too, under her new suit of armour, and if he would have stayed clueless to it.

Her fingers were the hardest part. Lance acted as if he couldn't hear Cassandra's sharp intakes of breath, as if he couldn't see the lines of pain around her eyes as she tried to stay stoic.

"Cassandra… Are you okay?" he asked quietly once he was done.

She met his eyes, but her gaze seemed far away. "You said no question," she sighed, gathering the rest of her armour and standing up in one swift movement. She was already hiding her arm under it, and Lance felt like there was a weight lodged in his throat, making it even harder for him to try and find the words to talk to her.

She… She didn't need to answer. He could see she wasn't okay.

"What- You're not gonna train right now?" he said when she drew her sword out, testing its weight with her left arm.

"I need to be able to use a sword Lance."

"You-- What you need is rest, Cassandra!"

"Don't," she snapped, swirling around to point her weapon at him. "Don't tell me what to do."

Her sword was trembling. He didn't know if it was because she wasn't used to handling it with this hand, or if she was trembling herself.

"Cass-"

"What I need is to retrain my arm as fast as possible. What I need is to be able to fight if trouble finds us again, and I know it will. What I need is to be able to protect you, to protect everyone, because that's why I'm here in the first place, and I won't fail again," she growled through clenched teeth.

That was when he understood this fear that he hadn't been able to name until now. There, while Cassandra did her best to appear threatening, he saw that she was not, and had never been fearless. Because it was there that he truly looked at Cassandra, and saw a young woman desperate to prove herself and who, again and again, had been being denied the chance more and more violently. She turned her back on him, trying to end the discussion, and what he saw was someone... small. Terrified. More than he ever had been.

And though he always thought he was a fearful person, it seemed that it was nothing compared to what Cassandra was hiding under her suit of armour.

#tangled #tangled the series #Lance Strongbow #Cassandra #Lance Strongbow Appreciation Week

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witchiswriting · 4 years ago

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A Not So Merry Christmas Chapter 5

Summary: Negan and Lilith meet with an unexpected face from the past.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of violence, Mentions of panic attack.

Characters: Negan x Lilith (OC)

Author’s Note: Wow! We’re so close to the end. I feel bittersweet since it’s my Negan fic ever, saying goodbye to those characters are harder than I thought. Don’t worry though. There’s going to be a sequel, I just don’t know when it’s gonna be ready to posted.

It’s been a month and a half since Negan had started to live in this hell called The Sanctuary. He’d accepted the fact that he’s never going back to the life he once had. The only person he knew from his life before, his best friend or more like ex best friend was now his enemy. Rick Grimes, he was one of the residents of Sanctuary; he didn’t have a room like ordinary workers or saviours. No, he was staying in a cell and lost his hands in a brutal way. He had watched all his family getting slaughtered by Negan.

When Simon led Negan to the cells that day, he found out about the murders he’s caused, and they were a lot. When they came across Rick’s group Negan ordered them to give their half of shit to him. Threatened that otherwise he’d kill them. After particular events, a war took place between the groups Negan terrorised. They came together against Negan, but they still hadn’t the enough numbers to defeat Negan’s kingdom. So, Negan beat them down in a very brutal way.

Rick Grimes was the person who killed Lilith. In a crossfire he shot her in the chest. Although, Negan was the one to blame since he was the reason that Lilith had been here that day.

If he wouldn’t had been this stupid. Cheating on her in another world too.

In that very morning, Lilith walked in on him fucking Amber, at least that’s what Negan thinks her name is. He doesn’t remember anything, doesn’t know anything. He even made Simon tell him how Lilith died. So, that was it. Shocked and very much hurt Lilith left The Sanctuary, and she was too lost in her own mind to notice the trap the Alexandrians had set up.

First, she was captured by Rick. He had no intention to hurt her. She was just another victim to Negan after all but when the saviours came guns blazing Lilith got scared and tried to find a way to escape. She found it but when she threw herself, she felt the heavy bullet ripping through her chest. That’s how she died in arms of Negan.

When Negan stood in front of his ex-friend now enemy’s cell, he felt completely numb. Nothing came out of his mouth. The only voice echoing through the cold walls were Rick’s hatred, accusations, and threats. Negan waited with a stone-cold face. He was too busy to comprehend the situation. After 10 minutes he walked back to his room and refused to come out since then.

Negan sighed, taking a sip from his whiskey. He let a tear fall on his cheek. It’s been too long, and he was now sure that there’s no going back and there’s no Lilith. He’s the man with everything yet nothing.

For the first couple of weeks Negan always slept, thinking that might be the only way to go back to his old life but, of course, it didn’t work. Instead, he woke up to a bloody Lilith standing in front of him and accusing him of letting her die. His nightmares were another thing. There were too real that Negan couldn’t bear to live this agony repeatedly. So, he drowned himself and his sorrows in alcohol. Hoping to numb himself and he almost made it.

Until one night.

He was laying on his stomach in his bed and crying silently. Wishing he had at least one photograph of Lilith though he didn’t know if he could take looking at her beautiful face again. Trying to get some sleep, he closed his already tired eyes. He heard some noise in his bathroom but didn’t care. Probably he was too drunk, and his mind was making up things to torture him more.

He turned on his back and closed his eyes tightly. Wishing dive into deep slumbers of sleep in a few minutes however, the faith had other plans.

A light breeze brushed his beautiful face, slightly waking him up from his semi sleeping state.

There she was, standing in the same sun dress, watching him with an angry expression. Her dark curls were moving lightly in the wind.

He jolted up from the bed. He must have been dreaming or was too drunk again and seeing a hallucination.

Lucille, she was standing all in her glory.

‘’ You really don’t get the concept of second chances, do you Negan?’’ She asked with a sassy tone. It was apparent that she wasn’t pleased with him.

‘’W-what? I’m too drunk and seeing things. Fuck. Lucille.’’ Negan was rubbing his eyes.

‘’Wake up asshole, it’s not a hallucination. I’m here. Again. To fucking help.’’ She gritted her teeth.

‘’ But why?’’ Negan was confused. He knew he had no right to seek for help nor he deserved it.

‘’ I’m not doing this for you.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

‘’ Then for who? ‘’ It was getting more and more complex for Negan to figure out in his drunken state.

‘’ I mean you’ve always had a fucked-up mind, but you were also sharp. So, you tell me Negan.’’ She took a step toward him.

‘’ I’d say Lilith but, well… she’s gone.’’ Negan swallowed hardly. The gulp in his throat was getting bigger.

‘’ So, you say?’’ Lucille smirked knowingly.

‘’ IS SHE ALIVE? PLEASE TELL ME!’’ Negan got up from the bed and kneeled in front of Lucille.

‘’ Isn’t it funny that fears become wishes, Negan?’’ Lucille mocked his ex-husband. She’s not used to see him in such a pathetic state. She mumbled ‘good’ under her breath. ‘’ When you left Lilith, the last thing you wanted was to see her again. What has changed?’ She smirked but the sign of sympathy didn’t appear on her beautiful features, instead her face was full of ferocity.

Negan couldn’t keep his tears at bay anymore, at this point he’s crying like a pathetic dog. Yes, the woman he’d loved once was being extremely hard on him but his pain didn’t matter shit to him. All he wanted was Lilith to be alive, even if it’s without him.’ Please tell me she’s alive. Please, I beg you.’’ He started sobbing violently.

‘’ It depends. You’re probably going to treat her as badly as the last time.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders in a careless manner.

He started to hyperventilate. ‘’ I fucking promise I will never hurt her ever again. If she’s alive and ready to accept me, I’ll do my fucking best to make it up to her. Just please fucking tell me if she’s alive.’’

Lucille took a deep breath. Her eyes were shining mischievously. ‘’ Well then.’’ She bit her lower lip. ‘’ Yes, she’s alive Negan but she’s not doing very well as you can guess.’’

‘’I-I-I’d do everything for her to be happy… and if she doesn’t want me then I’ll go my own way. I just want the best for her.’’ Tears were running down on his face violently. His eyes were blood shot and puffy, his nose was running down but he couldn’t care less. This a month and a half has been the worst he’s ever experienced. He thought nothing could beat the day Lucille died but he was wrong.

Negan struggled at controlling his shaking hands. The balloon growing inside him was pressing into his chest. His breath got caught in his throat and he couldn’t mutter a word, just a chocked sob came out. The last time he had a panic attack was when he found out Lucille has cancer.

Watching the miserable man before her, Lucille put her delicate hand on his shoulder in a supporting manner. ‘’ Stand up and go to sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up to your old life next morning. Who knows?’’ She purred.

He stood up like an obedient child, but he had one question in his mind. ‘’Lucille, why are you being this good to me?’’

Lucille laughed. ‘’Oh dear, I’m not being good to you, now go back to sleep. If you’re lucky maybe you’d see her in your dream tonight.’’ And with that she disappeared.

Lilith was dancing slowly in her room. That was her coping mechanism. Whenever a bad thing happens, she tries to get over it with dancing and most of the time it helps but this time she felt like there’s nothing that could soothe her pain.

It’s been two weeks and the pain had started to annoy her, since childhood she hadn’t been good with dealing her negative emotions and the last one was the biggest blow. Feeling sad and in pain drove her crazy. Now, she’s mad at his asshole ex-fiancé also herself. She didn’t know when she’d fallen that deep for the man who ruined her life in a single night. Before, she didn’t realize how much he meant to her and it hurt more knowing that he was probably the only one for her.

Five days ago, she went back to Negan’s place to gather her things, but nobody was at home and there was no sign of Negan had been there for a long time. His car and motorbike were in the garage, but his clothes were absent in his wardrobe. Who knows, maybe he’d already found a lover. Thinking of that possibility hurt Lilith in the ways she could’ve never guessed before.

Rubbing her eyes, she took a deep breath and stared herself at mirror. The song was over, and she was a little bit tired. She watched herself for a few minutes. Her bright blue eyes were slightly red and swollen just like her plump lips. Her nose was running down, and the tip was a deep shade of red.

Suddenly, she heard a melody playing. She didn’t recognize it immediately, but she knew she heard it before, just couldn’t quite place when she listened to the song.

She must be forgetting things after all the crying; her head wasn’t in the right place. She unplugged the player and threw herself on bed.

When she felt a soft fingertip on her bare shoulder it’s been almost 10 minutes letting herself into the arms of slumber. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Lilith slightly opened them.

She couldn’t help the gape that formed on her mouth when she saw the woman who she’d only knew from photographs standing before her.

It was an interesting night to begin with.

@buttercandy16 @negans-network

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan x reader #negan x oc #negan angst #negan smut #negan fluff #lucille twd #lucille #negan x lilith #story: a not so merry christmas #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #jdm #negan twd

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simsadventures · 5 years ago

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Joke’s on You

Summary: You’re still a little pissed at Steve for never pestering Bucky and Sam for their pranks and always joining them. You plot your sweet revenge.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, pranks, fluff

Pairing: Alpha Bucky x Omega Reader, Alpha Steve x Omega Reader (platonic, friendship)

Word Count: 1798

A/N: This is a sequel to Little Children, and it has been requested by my sweet @voltage-my2dlove. Hope you all will enjoy this little piece.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist __ Masterlist

It’s been almost two weeks ever since the boys pulled their last prank on you. They’ve been terrorising the rest of the team ever since, but never you again. And while you were extremely thankful for that, because you didn’t know what you’d do if they try and get you once again, so soon after they almost cause you a heart attack. No, scratch that. You knew exactly what you’d do, and it involved their dicks and your knife. And no, you didn’t mean some sexy knife play.

What you didn’t understand was how they could switch from being the Avengers, the mighty heroes of the Earth, it’s defenders who wouldn’t be caught smiling on a mission, to these bunch of shits they were in the compound. You loved seeing them happy, that wasn’t the problem, but sometimes they seemed to forget that not every prank is funny for both sides. Like last time, for example. For some reason (and you still couldn’t figure out why) Steve dared Peter to start an open fire by the pool, on the roof of the compound. What Steve didn’t predict, was that there weren’t any fire extinguishers, and if it wasn’t for Natasha and her quick reflexes, the damaged might have been much more extensive than one fake plant and Clint’s brand new towel.

You pestered Steve for this little “prank” so much, he actually had to go around the compound and personally apologise to everyone involved. It was a punishment of sorts, for you big bad Alpha. Admitting his mistakes and owning up to them wasn’t one of his most considerable talents.

After what happened to your necklace, Steve would try and win you over again. It was not that you were pissed, or that you didn’t want to talk to him, it was more of a punishment for him as well. Because if there was one thing that Steve hated, it was to not be liked by everyone around him.

It was at that very moment that you had a marvellous idea. You knew exactly how to get Steve back for all the times he either encouraged the boys to do something or he did some pranks himself. It was a little cruel, even you had to admit it, but their jokes were all getting a little too much, and you just wanted them to stop.

But you knew you couldn’t pull it off all by yourself. You needed the whole compound to be on in your prank and give to Steve good. You prepared a game plan in your head, getting yourself ready, and when you thought it was all, you asked the AI to let everyone except Steve know that you wanted to speak with them, urgently and very privately.

You knew people would be more than confused why you called them in the middle of free Saturday to your room, but they would find out soon enough.

The first one to come in was Bucky and Sam. They have been training outside, trying to stay in shape, so they were both sweaty and exhausted. Your eyes roamed Bucky’s body, seeing all the places where his clothes were stuck to his body thanks to the sweat, and you let yourself admire your Alpha’s posture for a bit. He really was a sight for a sore eye.

“You called us here for a reason, Y/N, or just to see your precious Bucky? ‘Cause if so, I could really use the spare time to have a hot, hot shower,” Sam said with a smirk. You scoffed, and if he stood closer, you would’ve slapped his shoulder. Idiot.

Bucky has his eyebrows raised, waiting for you to tell them what you wanted because he was damn sure that if it was just to satisfy your needs, you wouldn’t have called Sam as well. And if you did… Well, you needed to have a conversation it seemed. But before he could overthink, even more, Clint and Natasha came in, with the rest of the team close behind.

“What’s up, Y/N? Why are we all here? Missed us already, or what?” Tony hollered as he sat on your vanity.

“Sure, missed you very much, Tony, but that’s beside the point. As you can see, not everyone’s here.”

It was only then that people realised that Captain America himself was missing.

“Right, so, we all know that Steve is mister prankster here, for some goddamn reason. And it’s getting old and tiring. So, I thought we could pull a prank on him, and maybe he’ll realise that not everyone thinks pranks are funny and that maybe, just maybe, not all of us want to be involved in his shenanigans. What do you think?”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see Sam and Bucky smirking at each other, obviously excited that they could do something to Steve. Peter was also all in front, he excited nodding. The rest of the team took a little longer, but after a few minutes, everyone was in.

“And do you have something specific on your mind, Y/N?” Clint asked, still not 100% sure he wanted to participate only for Steve to get him back again. He still missed his perfect purple towel.

“I do, actually. You know how Steve wants to be the most likeable person? Like, how he hates if someone’s pissed at him? Well, I think the best way to prank him is if we all stop talking to him for the rest of the weekend. He’s gonna go completely nuts!”

You could see the devilish smirks appearing on faces that were previously little undecided. They all thought it would take some trying, something they would actually have to do, but it was more about what they didn’t have to do. It would hurt Steve’s ego a bit, but nothing else. Neither you nor anyone else on the team wanted to hurt Steve, it was just a little something that would (at least you hoped) make him realise a few things.

“Ok, and the end of this pranks is when? Tomorrow night, then?” Peter asked, still smiling.

“I would say we all gather around 8 PM in the common room, bring Steve in and explain things to him.”

Everyone nodded, and after a few more friendly exchanges, everyone was on their ways. And as for you, you couldn’t wait to meet Steve.

And you met him not even an hour later. You were walking down the corridor to the kitchen, afternoon snacks calling for you when you saw him walking towards you. He gave you a smile, but you stared right ahead, completely ignoring his presence. He called your name, but still, you didn’t turn, didn’t even acknowledge you knew he was there.

Steve shook his head and began walking again, thinking that you were still pissed at him for both the necklace and the little stunt he made Peter do a few days ago. He didn’t think much of it.

It was only after he met Natasha, Bucky, Peter, and then Tony, respectively, and none of them even smiled at him, didn’t answer his questions, nothing. They all acted as if he didn’t exist. As if he became invisible during the lunch-break or something.

Steve went to sleep that night, thinking about he’s done wrong in the past few hours that people would be so pissed about that they didn’t speak with him. But he couldn’t think of anything.

The next day, the exact thing happened. Steve bumped into you and Bucky when you were walking outside the compound, going on a supply run, because the stack of sweets and chips were running thin.

“Hey, guys, want me to tag along to help you?”

Nothing

Damn, Steve thought. Not even Bucky was answering his damn questions, and that spoke volumes. Even after Steve pissed, his best friend’s Omega was Bucky ignoring him. Sure, he yelled and cursed at him, but that was about it.

Steve was slowly losing his mind. All he wanted was someone to talk to, or at least someone to smile at him. But help was obviously not coming and Steve was in despair.

It was only around 8 PM when FRIDAY told him the team was waiting on him in the common room, that a glimpse of hope simmered in his eyes. He sprinted towards the room, and sure enough, when he got there, the rest of his friends were there.

You were in the forefront, your hands casually in your pockets.

“What’s going on? Have you decided to have mercy on me and finally speak with me?” Steve asked desperately.

“It was really uncomfortable, wasn’t it, Stevie? When people were doing something, you didn’t want them to. Seems familiar?”

Steve thought for a second, and when he looked at everyone in the room, they had their eyebrows cocked and smirks playing on their lips.

“You pranked me, Y/N? You made everyone not talk to me, on purpose? I thought I did something, you little-“

Steve made a step towards you, and while you were calm and collected, knowing that Steve, despite being an Alpha would never hurt you, Bucky and his protective nature obviously weren’t convinced. Bucky stepped next to you, his arm finding its way around your waist to keep you close to him.

Steve stopped in his tracks, realising that if he made one more step, Bucky would be in front of you, protecting what was his.

“It’s not a nice feeling, is it, Stevie? Imagine the rest of us, being dragged into something we don’t want to have any part in, almost all the time. You’re like a dad of this group, and I always thought you were the responsible one. You wanna pull pranks? Cool, but do it with the three idiots that actually want to act like 5-year-olds. Or at least give us all a little break. You’ve been doing this for how long, 2 years now? And we’re all kinda tired,” you smiled at him and patted his shoulder.

Steve looked around and smiled, as well.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you all were feeling this way about it all. I just felt like we were growing apart, and I wanted to push us together.”

You kissed Bucky’s cheek, letting your still alert Alpha know that you were alright and that he could let you go before you walked to Steve and hugged him.

“We’re family, Steve. No-one’s going anywhere, but we all need some space and time for ourselves. When you find your Omega, you’ll understand what most of us are about,” you smirked at him, and he gave you a snorted laugh.

“So, we’re all good? I’m not in probation anymore?”

“We’re all good, Steve, but no more jokes, please.”

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten @sebbbystaaan @paradisiacalsparks @crazybutconfidentaf @owlyannah @lassini @s-trawberryv-eins

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove @kneel-begyourpardon @lumar014 @ptrs-prkrs

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone @sasbb23 @p8tn0lish @coffeebooksandfandom @waiting4inspiration @caswinchester2000 @mogaruke @justthatfangirloverthere

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megalony · 4 years ago

Text

Free to go

This is another murderer! Ben imagine that I hope you will all enjoy and feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg

Murderer! Ben masterlist

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have just had a baby when Ben gets arrested in their home but he reassures (Y/n) that he’ll be home soon. He knows Gwilym doesn’t have enough evidence to convict him.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You like that one?"

Following the sound of the rather mellow yet still gruff tone of voice, (Y/n) padded down the hall until she was leaning against the doorway to Owen's room. Her eyes found the source of the voice that she never normally heard in a soft and calming tone until recently. That voice was always abrasive, hard, cold and scratchy, it was never soft and mellow and calm like the sea gentle lapping at the sand.

It didn't take much guessing to see why his voice had that softer, smoother edge to it. He could hardly speak in his usual uncaring tone of voice to the newborn in his arms, that wouldn't be the best start if he let his son see him as cold and uncaring from day one.

A smile flowed onto (Y/n)'s otherwise tired features as she stayed in the doorway, watching the scene unfold in front of her. Ben was leaning his hips against the crib behind him wearing trousers and socks but no shirt. He had Owen resting on his right arm making the baby look so much smaller and fragile and when he tensed his arm Owen almost disappeared from sight.

The baby boy had his eyes half open and his tiny hand pressed on Ben's chest like he was patting his new tattoo.

Ben now had one tattoo on his chest compared to the rest of his body, he had one on the back of his neck, one on each knuckle on both hands, one on his upper right arm near his shoulder, one on his left upper thigh and a rather large, extensive tattoo spreading from between his shoulder blades right down near his hips. He for some reason didn't have any tattoos on his chest until now and it had confused (Y/n) why he would keep his chest clear when he went so far as to have the rest of his body lathered in ink.

Sometimes she did wonder if his chest was clear of ink because he had been cut and stabbed there a few times. He had a scar on his lower stomach on the right side from being stabbed a few years back and he had small slash marks from fights he'd had in the past. It made (Y/n) wonder if he didn't have tattoos there in case someone stabbed or cut or even shot him and ended up damaging any tattoos he may have.

Ben had Owen's date of birth on the upper left side of his chest along with his footprints taken when he was born.

Despite the tattoo being new and the skin all around it being as red as a tomato, Ben didn't flinch or look phased when Owen touched it or even when (Y/n) had touched it before. (Y/n) had been with Ben when he got that tattoo and it amazed her how he didn't flinch, pull away, grit his teeth or even tense. He didn't swear either, he looked like he could feel no pain at all and it made (Y/n) curious as to how Ben would have reacted when he got the tattoo on his back.

"Is he okay?" (Y/n) watched Ben glance up at her with a smile before he turned around to lay Owen back down since he was practically asleep in his arms now.

"He's fine." The words barely passed through Ben's lips before he found (Y/n) suddenly standing in front of him, her arms wrapping around his torso so she could burrow into his chest. She knew well enough now to know that she could lean on or brush against any new tattoo Ben got and he wouldn't flinch or make a comment about it.

"I think that one's my favourite." (Y/n) mumbled quietly, moving her head so she could kiss the latest edition to Ben's growing ink collection. Her eyes briefly looked over at the newborn beside them before she looked back up at Ben who looked very amused.

"Where shall I get your name?" Ben leaned back in order to look over tilt his chin down, his eyes scanning over himself as a shark-tooth grin flooded his face.

Ben had pleaded with (Y/n) for the past six months to let him get her name tattooed somewhere but (Y/n) was very against the idea. It was sweet and she knew it would make Ben happy, he wanted her name because now they had a baby together but she couldn't let him do that. If they broke up Ben wouldn't be very pleased to have her name inked on his skin as a permanent reminder of her. Ben insisted they wouldn't break up and that even if they did, he wouldn't mind still having her name on his skin because she was the mother of his child. She wouldn't exactly be out of his life if they did break up.

"No."

"Baby please, you know you'd secretly love it-"

"Not if we break up I wouldn't and neither would you." (Y/n) pressed her chin into Ben's chest so she could look up at him. He looked a mix between devilish and disgruntled at the response he didn't want.

"What if I did it anyways? I think your name would look good on my wrist." Ben removed one arm from (Y/n)'s waist to show her his wrist. He wasn't giving up, he was having her name tattooed somewhere eventually, he just had to wear her down first to get her approval. He knew it wouldn't be in his best interest if he did it anyway when she told him not to.

"Maybe in a year or two." (Y/n) could already guess that she would wear down and give in just to stop him from pestering her eventually.

"That's my girl, come on, let's leave him to sleep."

(Y/n) didn't quarrel, she followed Ben out of the room and downstairs until they were heading into the living room. She slowly sat down on the sofa before turning to lay out instead, leaning her head on the pillow resting against the arm of the sofa as she felt like she was sinking into the cushions until she was engulfed and disappeared. Towards the end of the pregnancy with Owen, (Y/n) had made a den of sorts on the sofa where she had spent most of her time and she kept the pillows and cushions here since her back was still sore, as was her stomach.

(Y/n) opened her eyes when she felt Ben lifting her legs so he could sit down with her, resting her legs over his lap and she could see he had shrugged one a shirt. Small shivers ran up and down her legs when Ben's hands absentmindedly ran up and down her exposed legs and up to her thighs.

They had only been home from the hospital with Owen for roughly a week now and since they weren't going out anywhere or having visitors round, (Y/n) didn't see any reason to dress up or dress properly. For the past few days she had either been wearing her pyjamas or like she was now, wearing one of Ben's oversized shirts and some shorts.

Owen was a surprise, he wasn't planned for either of them and it had worried (Y/n) in the beginning that Owen wouldn't be part of Ben's plan. He truly didn't seem like the type of person who would want kids, he worked a lot, he got into fights and he blackmailed, killed and terrorised people. Children didn't seem like they would fit into that plan of life but to (Y/n)'s utter surprise, Ben had been happy about this.

Despite the work he did and his cold exterior and heart and the seven years difference between him and (Y/n), he was happy and fine with this. They moved in together a few months into the pregnancy and (Y/n) slowly got to know how Ben worked and his different way of life.

(Y/n) didn't know how long she'd been asleep for or when she fell asleep but when she tiredly opened her eyes and looked around, the tv was on but Ben was no longer sitting next to her. A small sense of panic started to dwell in her chest until she realised she could hear him clattering about in the kitchen, most likely getting a cup from the cupboard to make a drink.

Waking up and finding Ben wasn't there was always a panic signal to (Y/n), it made her wonder if he had slipped out quickly for an emergency at work or if he wasn't there at night she had the sudden fear that someone had broken in and he was trying to sort it out. (Y/n) wasn't sure why, but waking up or coming home to find Ben wasn't there scared her. He was her safety net, she felt safe and secure when he was there and she couldn't even try to go to sleep unless he was there too.

Rubbing at her tired eyes, (Y/n) tried to wake herself up a bit more as she moved into a sitting position. She needed to get herself a drink and then see what time it was in case it was time to give Owen a bottle, unless she had been asleep for a while and Ben had already fed him by now.

Listening to the tv worked wonders in bringing (Y/n) back around and shaking off the sleep from her system. Once she felt properly awake and had regained all her thoughts and senses, (Y/n) pushed herself up to her feet just as the she heard someone knocking rather hurriedly at the front door.

"I got it." She called out to Ben, trying to keep the tiredness from her voice as she slowly headed out into the hall.

(Y/n) ran her fingers through her hair, catching her nails on a few of the knots and tangles as she tried to make her hair seem less of a bird's nest on her head. Her brows furrowed the closer she got to the dark oak brown door when she realised just how harshly someone was banging on the door to be let in.

The first month of living with Ben sent (Y/n) into numerous panic attacks when he had his workers turning up out of the blue and during the night, it was hard to get used to so many people coming round but at least Ben gave her some kind of warning beforehand now.

Reaching the door, (Y/n) twisted the key that was already situated in the lock but before she even pulled the handle down all the way, the door was suddenly pushed with so much force that the sharp edge of the door rammed into (Y/n)'s chest and stomach and just grazed the bottom of her chin from how close she had been standing to the door.

(Y/n) choked on a shriek as her knees caved in the moment she pushed her weight onto the door so it closed in whoever's face was on the other side. Her knees pushed against the wood, as did her forehead that was pulsing and had she been in a cartoon, stars would have been swirling over her head. A ragged breath pushed through (Y/n)'s nose as she tried to blink away the dizziness and breathe through the pain swelling in her chest and stomach that was already tender as it was.

When the words 'Open up' and 'police' hit her ears, (Y/n) had the urge to lock the door and keep them out but with the force they used to try and get in, she knew they weren't likely to simply go away.

Forcing herself to stand up properly on shaking legs, (Y/n) coiled forward just a little to relieve the pain in her chest and stomach.

"Baby, what the fuck?" Ben's eyes were wild with confusion and worry when he left the kitchen, freezing for a moment when he noticed the way (Y/n) was almost collapsing in front of the door and the scream she just let out that almost made him burn his hand from shock.

Ben didn't receive a response as (Y/n) moved just enough to let the police barge the door open all the way, sending her stumbling backwards. Her free hand quickly reached out for the shoe rack next to her to steady herself as her other hand pressed to her stomach that was burning like she'd been stabbed. Not wanting to be trampled down, (Y/n) pushed her uncoordinated feet to trip over one another to move forwards past the stairs and into the hall.

(Y/n) was grateful when Ben reached out and held onto her to stop her from falling flat on her face. His hands slipped easily around her waist and pulled her over to him until she was leaning into his chest and she could feel his lips pressing into her hair.

But as soon as Ben's arms were around her, (Y/n) could feel hands roughly pulling and grabbing at her arms and waist, trying to tear her away from him. (Y/n) kept her eyes tightly closed and her nails scraped against Ben's arm that she was clinging to but it did no good as she was still torn away from him and when her back collided with the wall she slumped down to her knees, blacking out if only for two seconds.

She could feel her stomach churning like she was going to be sick, all of the blood was now rushing to her head that felt like it was being squeezed until it was about to burst like a grape. She could hear Ben's dark, violent tone warning whoever just pushed her into the wall not to do it again and (Y/n) knew Ben would have launched himself at the policeman if there were no other officers here. He couldn't take down all four officers at once and someone would radio for backup if he tried. Ben could assault, bully, threaten, blackmail and kill anyone he liked but when it came to the police it was tricky.

They were here to arrest him and he couldn't harm them when he was being arrested or they had reason to caution and charge him. He couldn't give them evidence to use against him, they struggled as it was to find anything to pin on Ben and that was how he needed it to stay.

When (Y/n) tried to stand up, a pair of large, rough hands grabbed her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. When the man's hand caught on the oversized shirt she was wearing and made it ride up at the side, (Y/n) was thankful she decided to wear pyjama bottoms with Ben's shirt rather than just her underwear.

Her eyes managed to focus enough for her to see Ben ramming his elbow into an officer's stomach, giving himself the chance to pull away from the banister he had been pushed up against so that they could try and arrest him. He wasn't going to make a break for it or resist arrest but he wasn't being pushed into the banister for that. They were barging in here because they knew he was dangerous and a killer but they should know from previous experience that Ben always let them arrest him, he came willingly with them. They had no need to be violent with him or (Y/n).

"Go check upstairs, make sure it's clear." The officer standing next to the door ordered to a man who was hanging around the stairs like he was observing the scene, not knowing where to chip in.

(Y/n)'s frantic eyes locked with Ben's for a split second before he nodded and tipped his head in the direction of the stairs. He held his arm out in front of the officer standing next to her, preventing him from grabbing at (Y/n) when she stumbled over to the stairs and swung round, losing her energy as panic took over when she tried to hurry and clamber up the stairs.

"Get off me!" (Y/n)'s voice wasn't as firm or demanding as she willed it to be but there was a firm, growling tone to her voice when the officer grabbed at her legs to try and stop her since she was practically crawling up on her hands and knees.

"Get the fuck off her, she's going to get the baby." Ben managed to squeeze his arm through the gaps between the poles of the banister and he roughly grabbed the young man's wrist, yanking his arm away from (Y/n) so she could carry on up the stairs.

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she got to the top of the stairs and she didn't have the will to push them away.

(Y/n) had never had the police turn up to her home before, then again she'd never lived with Ben until a few months ago. The thought of police turning up at their home was unrealistic in (Y/n)'s mind considering how Ben was always telling her he was going to keep his work separate from home life, especially now that they had Owen. All his dealings happened at the club and she knew he'd been arrested there once before, it was a natural assumption that any arrests or dealings with the police would happen at the club, not at home.

A big part of (Y/n) didn't want to venture back downstairs to the chaos, she just wanted to sit in Owen's room and cradle her baby boy to her chest, trying to imagine all of this as some fiction of her imagination or a nightmare. But she knew she had to go down, she had to see Ben and find out what he wanted her to do.

Holding Owen against her chest and stomach made (Y/n) whimper in pain but she couldn't hold him loosely, she needed him pressed against her to reassure herself he was okay and to make sure none of the officer's downstairs would try and take him off her. She cuddled the frightened newborn against her chest with his head leaning on her shoulder and his blanket wrapped neatly around his very small, fragile frame.

Her legs were trembling when she shakily walked back down the stairs, pulling away from the officer waiting at the bottom who tried to reach out for her. (Y/n) leaned against the banister, her frightened eyes watching as Ben held his hands out in front of him with a face like thunder as he silently allowed them to arrest him. He knew there was no gain in trying to resist.

Ben yanked his arm out of the officer's hold, he didn't need to be held like a toddler to walk and he was hardly going to run away with his hands cuffed in front of him. It would be a big giveaway that he was resisting arrest if he went out into the street like this and he wouldn't get very far.

When he reached (Y/n), Ben very slowly lifted his cuffed hands up until he could loop them over (Y/n)'s head, tangling his hands into the back of her hair with his arms resting on her shoulders. He stood as close as he could get to her without squashing Owen between them who was shrieking and wailing like it was the end of the world but then again, he didn't know or understand what was going on. Ben pressed his lips to the side of (Y/n)'s head for a moment, feeling her hiccuping through silent cries and she was shaking against him. He darted his eyes around before he lowered his head and turned until his lips were pressed to her ear, he didn't want anyone hearing what he was about to tell her.

"Call Joe tell him what's happened, he'll get my lawyer to brief you on the phone and the guys will hang around, make sure no one's watching or coming here. They can't arrest or talk to you at all so don't let any other police in. Call your sister, don't stay here alone. I love you, I won't be long." Ben pressed a deep kiss to her lips before he moved his arms and took a step back, waiting for (Y/n) to nod that she understood before he made any move to walk out of the house.

He needed his lawyer to talk to (Y/n) so if the police tried to ask her anything, she knew the best answers to give that would keep her totally out of this and he needed the boys to know what was happening so they could stay close to the house and make sure nothing happened to (Y/n) or Owen.

And Ben didn't want (Y/n) staying here on her own if he was held overnight because he could be gone for up to twenty four hours in custody and she wasn't well. He couldn't have her on her own, hurt and shaken up and needing to care for Owen. Ben also knew how (Y/n) was when it came to sleeping, his way of life heightened her anxiety and if he was out late and came home past midnight, she would be waiting up for him.

(Y/n)'s sister despised Ben and would try to get (Y/n) to leave but Ben would rather have Clare try and do that than have (Y/n) left on her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Am I free to go yet?" There was something so snide and bitter about Ben's tone that caused Gwilym to look at him in surprise when he walked into the interview room. He was expecting to look over and see voids in Ben's pupils that were alight with a fire of anger, he thought he would be met with snarling lips and bared teeth and clenched hands slamming down on the desk.

But all he could see was someone who looked like they were playing cards and had a royal flush hidden in their deck. Ben had one brow raised, his head bent to the side at an odd angle and a smile that was so unnerving, Gwilym had to stop himself from shivering.

This was the fourth time he had been able to both arrest and bring Ben into custody for questioning and he was determined not to let him slip through his grasp this time. Everyone knew all the crimes Ben committed and Ben knew they knew, but they never had the evidence or witnesses to gain enough grounds to arrest him for good. They could only bring him in for questioning and watch as he wriggled free and walked away. Sometimes he went straight out and committed another crime they couldn't pin on him, sometimes he laid low for a while and other times he disappeared off the radar and moved away.

Gwilym couldn't let him go again.

"Afraid not, Mr Hardy. We need to ask you some questions about a murder, but you already know that."

"The officer did mention something like that. I've been here for five hours, if you could ask me quickly so I can go home that would be nice." The way Ben smiled looked so genuine yet so fake that it was almost confusing, he looked like he was being genuine yet he wanted Gwilym to see he was being fake to rattle him.

Ben leaned back in his seat and straightened his spine, letting it click back into place before he sat up straight and rested his arms on the table, linking his hands together.

"Do you know this man?" Gwilym pulled out a brown paper file and took out three different pictures, placing them neatly on the table in front of his suspect who they both knew was guilty beyond belief. One picture was a mugshot of the victim, and the other two pictures were taken from the crime scene where he had been beaten to a pulp before being shot.

It unnerved and angered Gwilym how Ben pulled the pictures closer to take a proper look like he was wracking his brain as if he were a witness helping them with their crime instead of the murderer trying to get away with it. He even glanced over to his lawyer sat beside him before he looked back over at Gwilym.

"Yes, he's called Robert, he was a member of my gym." Ben could see his answer startled Gwilym. This was the first time he had ever admitted he knew someone they brought him in to question about. He had no reason to say he knew them because he already knew there was no evidence to tie him to his own crime but he thought he would toy with them for a bit.

"Was?"

"I don't think he'll be coming back, do you?" Ben pointed at the middle photo that showed the bullet hole in his forehead.

"He was seen going into your gym on the day he died. No one saw him leave and at some point in the evening he was murdered and his body was dumped not too far from your place of work."

"When was that?" Ben folded his arms over his chest, looking rather bored now like he was done playing a game and wanted to move onto something else now. Gwilym was trying to catch him out, make him give himself an alibi without them giving him enough information but Ben wasn't stupid enough to fall into their little traps.

"Two weeks ago, Tuesday nineteenth. We have a witness come forward who says they saw you leaving the scene where we found him."

"Did they identify me by you giving them a picture, did they describe me or did they give you my name?" Ben hardly looked phased about a witness placing him at a murder scene and it was really getting under Gwilym's skin now.

Ben knew that there were officers who would stoop so low as to find someone and show them a picture of Ben and prompt them to say they saw him there. But if someone just described him it wasn't definite proof he was there and if they gave his name it was more unreliable because a lot of people knew him and wanted him in prison.

"The witness described you, then identified a picture of you."

Gwilym pulled another piece of paper from his file and placed it in front of Ben, allowing him to see the description that was given by their so called witness. They gave a description of Ben's hair, a vague description of his face, approximate height and clothes.

"They saw a man walking the street at ten o'clock at night in a black coat and trousers. They didn't stop and talk to whoever they saw and they were on the other side of the road. Your witness hasn't described my client's various tattoos that could have been seen and they didn't get close enough to see his face. This isn't definite proof my client was there."

Ben's lawyer handed the paper back to Ben, sounding like he was ending the discussion there and Ben couldn't help the grin that took over his face. It could have been anyone, the fact that it actually was him made no difference because Gwilym couldn't definitely prove it in a court of law. They would see the time, know how dark it would have been and the distance the witness was from Ben and know they were only guessing.

"We found shoe prints at the scene and cigarette stubs at the scene."

When more pieces of paper were placed in front of Ben, he spared them a glance, focusing more on the sticky notes attached to them giving information about the shoe size, the type of shoe and the type of cigarettes they found.

"Sadly, I can't fit into a size ten converse, I take eleven and a half size and converse aren't my thing. Plus, I only smoke menthol cigarettes."

Ben had to admit Gwilym had managed to find some actual evidence at this crime scene, but sadly for him, none of it linked Ben to the scene. He was careful that if he was the one who did the killing, nothing was left behind that linked him there. No one saw him do it, no fingerprints, DNA, pieces of clothing or traces were left behind. He wouldn't be so stupid to leave his actual cigarettes at the scene, they must have been from Adam who was along with Ben when they killed Robert.

"Do you have any tangible evidence that links my client to the scene?"

"Does your client have an alibi for that day?" Gwilym countered, trying not to show that this was his last resort. If Ben didn't have a watertight alibi Gwilym would tear it apart and keep him here for as long as he could. He was going to do everything he could to pin this one to him.

"I was home with my girlfriend."

"All day?"

"She was nine months pregnant, do you really think I'd leave her alone during the evening to go kill someone when she could go into labour at any moment?" It was a good enough excuse and alibi, (Y/n) had been very close to her due date and Ben hadn't been in the club for over two weeks so he could be home with her. Things got out of hand at the club so he left for one hour to sort Robert out, but Gwilym wasn't to know that.

"So if we talk to her, she'll confirm you never left the house that day? And the day before and the day after, what about then?"

"The day before we didn't leave the house, Tuesday we didn't go anywhere because she felt ill and if you ask our midwife, she'll confirm I called her at two in the morning on Wednesday because (Y/n)'s water broke. We were in hospital for the next five days."

Ben had one of the best alibi's going for this murder, he had (Y/n).

He left the house on Tuesday at five in the afternoon to sort Robert out, let his men move and dispose of the body later and after that Owen was born. There was no way Gwilym could pin this one on Ben, he had no evidence leading to Ben and he had a watertight alibi and no proper witnesses to place him at the scene. Their only witness didn't even see Ben because he didn't move Robert's body from the club. He was in the clear.

"Right... bear with me whilst I go and get that confirmed by your girlfriend." Gwilym pushed his chair back but he didn't have time to stand up before Ben's lawyer was speaking.

"I've already got the midwife's contact details and I think talking to miss (Y/l/n) should be done by a different officer once I've had chance to speak to her."

"Why do you think that?"

"From what my client tells me, when you forced entry into his home miss (Y/l/n) was injured and detained without cause. I need to talk with her and see if she's pressing charges before any officer questions her in a case she isn't involved with."

There was no way that Ben was letting Gwilym or his officers get away with how they had barged into his home and hurt (Y/n), even if they didn't intend to. They ought to realise by now that Ben let them arrest him, he let them put him in custody because he always knew he would get out, just like he was today. They had no reason to barge in like that and then to try and detain (Y/n) when she did nothing wrong. Ben wasn't letting that drop, he was making sure Gwilym thought twice before he even dared to come to Ben's home again, let alone try and arrest him in that manner.

When Gwilym looked over at Ben sitting across from him, the shit-eating grin on Ben's face said it all.

He was walking away free this time too.

#ben hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #imagine #BoRhap #gwilym lee #gwilym imagine #murderer! ben

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kyoujurous-eyebrows · 5 years ago

Note

Erm, is requests open? If not, please ignore this, I'm so sorry. But if it's open, may I please request Kyojuro saving his fem (and future!s/o ;3) tsuguko from a demon? Like, he loves her deeply but hasn't confessed. Please fLUFF but I don't mind if you add a pinch of angsty...just please don't kill Kyojuro, I don't think my already unstable mental health can take it— I'm sorry if I'm asking for much, you can ignore this if you want 😅😁😁

CHEESUS ON A STICK I’M FINALLY DOING REQUESTS

I apologise to everyone for taking forever, I have had a bad streak of busy weeks and zero motivation for whatever reason.

Sorry it took so long to respond! I hope you enjoy this and it’s not too far off of your request :)

They Can’t Hurt You Anymore

Rengoku Kyoujurou x Fem!Tsuguko!Reader

Fluff(?)

Words: 1.5k

The day started out like any other one for you. Wake up at the crack of dawn, go for a jog to warm up your muscles and return by early morning to start your training. You had been fortunate enough to become the tsuguko of the Flame Pillar Rengoku Kyoujurou, and it was everything you could have asked for and more. He was passionate, can be very loud, and worked you to the bone, but all of it was under the pretence of making you stronger.

“(Y/N)-san! Are you feeling alright? You seem to be spacing out a little!” Rengoku called to you, snapping you out of your reminiscent thoughts. You smiled at your teacher and shook your head.

“Feeling just fine! I let my mind wander for a second. What were we working on?” He gives you his signature smile and dives back into explaining the motions of the current technique you were focusing on. You were not a Flame Breath user but taking those techniques and mixing them with your own breath style has shown an increase in power and performance on your end.

Rengoku finished re-explaining, watched you perform for a bit and then called for a lunch break. You grabbed your two wrapped lunches and gave one of them to Rengoku. It had become a routine of sorts for you to make lunch for him as he often skipped out in the beginning saying he “didn’t have enough time to make one in the mornings, and he wasn’t going to bother his younger brother when he could be focusing on his own things.” You offered to bring him a lunch after he tried some of yours one day and shouted “Tasty!” so loud that Uzui shouted at you both from the other side of the compound.

The sight of your crow hovering above prompted you to reach out an arm for it to land on. “Mission received! Head to the village due south of here! Demon activity has heightened recently!” You gave a nod to your crow and they took flight again.

“Sorry to cut training short today. It’s nearby so I’ll hopefully be back just after supper!” You waived to Rengoku as you retreated into the main hall to change into your slayer garb in your room. Once ready, you set out at a quick place, hoping to keep your word of when you’ll be back.

Rengoku watched as you disappeared around the corner with a fond smile on his face. He had found you training on your own about two years ago and was quite impressed with your skills. After witnessing a battle you had with a tricky demon, he offered to make you his tsuguko, wishing to see how you would grow as you became stronger. He was quick to realise that your two breath styles worked well when combined together and was very pleased to see you grow stronger every day. He also quickly realised how beautiful and strong you were, how your smile would send butterflies to his stomach, and how just seeing you everyday brightened up his moods. He had fallen for his little tsuguko quite hard.

Glancing to where you were sitting just moments ago, he noticed something. A small omamori amulet that you always carried on your person wherever you went. He asked about it once, and you said inside was a keepsake from your father who passed away due to a disease a few years prior. Grabbing it, he set out to follow you, knowing you would worry if you realised you didn’t have it on your person.

The village was not that far away, just like your crow had said. It was a small and quaint farming village that seemed to be suffering from a minor draught right now. The crops didn’t look very healthy and the soil was not a good colour. Whatever nutrients that used to be in it were now absent. Asking around you found that the village had been terrorised at night by some beast that would sweep through and kidnap a child or two every night. All the parents were worried sick, especially because even children that had not gone outside for a full 24 hours were disappearing.

The orange colours of the setting sun diminished as you went on full alert. You surmised the demon had some sort of spatial blood art or was just extremely quick and quiet for even kids indoors to go missing. You walked cautiously, listening for anything that sounded out of place. A few minutes passed until you heard an unnatural movement rustle some nearby leaves. Quickly you rushed in that direction, Nichirin blade drawn, hoping to spot the demon you were after. You happen upon not a demon, but a young boy no older than eight years crouching in a bush. He yelps at your sudden appearance and runs away.

“Wait! Come back it’s dangerous to be out here this late!” You chase after the boy following him through alley way after alley way until you cornered him. “Please stop running, it’s not safe out. I’m not going to hurt you, so let’s get you back home.” Suddenly the situation seemed suspicious to you. Why would a small child run so far away when frightened rather than returning home? You gulped and took half a step back, reaching instinctively for the omamori you always kept you on… except it wasn’t there.

Panic began to rise in the back of your throat as you watched the skin of this young boy melt away and transform into a grotesque looking demon. It licked its chops as it looked you up and down.

“A pretty young lady has come to serve herself to me tonight? Well, while I normally go after the young tykes, you definitely look good enough to eat. And a slayer to boot, He’ll be happy if I’m able to take you out!” The demon lunged at you as you took a defence stance, not willing to lose your life here.

By the time Rengoku reached the village, the sun had just barely set. His father had tried to pull another lecture on him as he was leaving after grabbing his sword, which only delayed him further. A sense of dread crawled across his skin as he quietly walked through the eerily empty streets. Hand on the hilt of his blade, he advanced further until he heard a shout of pain coming from somewhere behind him and to the right. He dashed in that direction at full speed, hoping he wasn’t too late to save the one being hurt.

Popping around a corner into a dingy alley way his eyes fall upon your slightly slumped figure. You were picking yourself up off the ground after having been smashed into the wall next to you. Rengoku’s blood boiled at the sight of the small stream of blood leaking down the side of your face, however he took a deep breath and drew his blade. Before the demon even had time to react, his head was sliced clean off. Rengoku faced away from you as he looked down at the decaying demon’s face with a look of disdain.

“(Y/N)! Are you alright? You seem to have hit your head so don’t move around too much!” He sheathed his blade and stepped carefully towards you as you took a few steps forward and stumbled into his arms. Your head was swimming and your vision was a little fuzzy at the edges.

“Rengoku-san…” You whispered quietly, the action causing a headache to arise.

“Don’t speak you might have a concussion. I’ll help you back to the Butterfly Estate and have Kocho-san look at you.” His voice was impossibly soft, a tone you had never heard from him before. Despite the pain, you looked up into his face, and you felt your heart skip a beat. His eyes swam with worry, a small frown in place of his usual smile and he looked about ready to cry.

“Don’t look so sad… I’ll be okay with a bit of rest…” You raised a hand up to rub across his cheek, and he grabbed it with the hand not supporting your weight.

“(Y/N), you don’t understand, I-” But he cut his confession off upon seeing you go unconscious. Placing your omamori back into one of your pockets, he took out some gauze and disinfectant he had on him whenever he went out. After quickly wrapping the wound on your head, he picked you up bridal style, as well as your sword, and hurried back to the Estate so that Shinobu could look at you; taking care not to jostle you too much.

There would be plenty of time for him to express his feelings for you after you were back in perfect shape. Until then, he would be by your side to make sure nothing bad could ever reach you. Actually, he thinks he’ll just continue to watch over you even after he confesses; whether you accept his feelings or not.

#kny #Kimetsu no Yaiba #demon slayer #kny scenarios #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #fluff

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doof-doofblog · 4 years ago

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"I'm Leaving Tomorrow!"

Tuesday 8th September 2020

Good evening everyone! Hope you're all enjoying your week so far! I once again apologise for this post being late, I just want to let you guys know that I am not slacking in any kind of way, I want to assure you all that I am just as excited about EastEnders as much as you guys are and I'm really looking forward to what the soap has in store for us. I know in recent weeks/months that I have been late with posts etc etc, I just want to explain to you guys that this blog, for me, is truly a hobby ... I work two jobs as well try to have a social life, I do this during my evenings whenever I'm not working and I will always make sure I am up to date with episodes! I just wanted to clear the air about that just in case some of you might have been thinking.

Anyway, we all know on Monday the soap came back with a huge bang! Now is the only time I've had to catch up on last night's episode, so lets jump straight into it!

So last night ended with Dotty telling Sharon the truth about how her son died and exposing Ian and his lies, and of course it starts right where we left off .... surely Ian isn't going to get away with it? Clearly Sharon is shocked to be hearing what Dotty is saying, Max is over on the other side of Vic listening in, and even he pipes up and claims that Ian was the one who saved Dennis, as he was there! But Dotty is eager to make Sharon believe her, she claims that she has no reason to lie, why would she? And oh of course Ian would bring up the fact that she was in court for possession of drugs because Ian reported her, but even so, that would have nothing to do with it! That really wouldn't make sense! And yet Sharon falls for it!!!! She calls her an evil little bitch and smashes a glass in front of her ... did you guys clock that horrible smug grin on Ian's face?! Poor Dotty then gets thrown out the Queen Vic, everyone looking at her! Does anyone else feel for Dotty right now? She's been hiding this secret for months, being terrorised by Ian and blackmailed to make sure she keeps Ian's horrible secret, and as soon as she tells the truth, no one believes her! Sharon threatens her with the glass bottle, and warns her to never approach her or her family ever again!

As she does so, Bobby can be seen looking from a distance, it's been known that he has had a crush on Dotty for some time, whether he still does, i'm unsure ... but seeing her making unbelievable claims about his Dad, it disappoints him. I'm sure he wondering, "Why is she lying?" ... but I'm sure at some point, something will be found ... Dotty called out that she had a recording of Dennis from the boat, but it got deleted, could that still be found somewhere? Could someone else potentially have a copy? Ian tells Sharon to ignore Dotty, she's just a messed up kid in his words. Sharon decides to leave the situation to get some head space, leaving Ian to wonder what she could be thinking about.

Aww now we see Chantelle meeting up with Kheerat, he's managed to get her the money she asked for. He asks whether her whether Gray can't help with the situation she may be in, but Chantelle can't bare to tell the truth. She explains the money is for her and her children and nothing else. The more this goes on and the more she confides in Kheerat, I do believe eventually she will say something about the abuse she's been suffering before she passes, unless something happens and Kheerat will find out the truth. But will he be too late? This is truly a sad story-line to watch, but of course it's very important to portray and tell the story! Chantelle decides to confide in Kheerat and reveals that she's divorcing her husband, this is clear surprise to him as it's shown in his eyes and the look on his face, he looks as if so many questions are rushing through his head. "Why would she be divorcing him?!" ... he promises to get her the money she needs to divorce him, she thanks him with a sigh of relief. But the look in Kheerat's eyes made me feel like he just wanted to hold her, wrap her up in cotton wool and take her away from what she's been suffering. It's as if he's Chantelle's true knight in shining armour.

Awww and meanwhile, Ben is in the hospital along with his Dad and Lola, ready for his appointment to have his implant. He's looking longingly waiting for Callum to show up, Lola asks what would be the first thing he'd want to hear if the implant works, perhaps Lexi singing one of her songs? It's devastating that unbeknown to Ben, Callum is at work - having seen him appear on CCTV and revealing him taking part in the job with Danny Hardcastle, I do feel as much as Callum wants to be there for his boyfriend, he needs to hide the fact that it's his partner in the CCTV. I feel there could be some upsetting Ballum scenes ahead. At his house, Gray is working on his laptop, suddenly a advertisement pops up! "Are you looking for a divorce lawyer?" ... it's incredible how realistic that is! I'm sure all of you would agree that there have been times you've typed something in search bar on the internet, and a few hours later you'll be back online and there'll be an advertisement for something you've previously searched! Instantly Gray views the history on the laptop and it reveals everything has been deleted. Is he aware of what Chantelle might be up to? If so, I'm dreading what's going to happen next for Chantelle!

Back on the Square, Dotty is seen with her head in her hands, looking defeated. Bobby makes his way up to her, demanding to know what she was playing at. He tells her neither he nor anyone else believes what she's saying is true. She asks him that it doesn't even cross his mind that there might be some slight truth in what she is saying, again ... why would she lie? I mean, it's clear she and Ian have never gotten on in the first place, Ian basically sees her as Nick Cotton's daughter, which means with him as a father, she could be very much like him! Bobby then reveals to Dotty that Ian wants himself and Sharon to be more than friends, Dotty's face smirks into a huge grin, is she going to be able use that information to her advantage?! Dotty claims that Bobby thinks that she is just like her father, like everyone else seems to think to, and with the way things are going for her, she might as well prove them right!

Next clip, Chantelle comes home from work, Gray is clearly waiting for her. He hears her footprints enter the house, he asks her how work was, she replies with "Fine" ... the next comment he makes is "I would've thought more than fine!" She makes her way into the living room, Gray watching her as she walks in ... she tries to lure him off the scent and says she's been with a client. The next thing which came out of Gray's mouth made my mouth drop ... "Is that what that's slutty top for?" ... He is clearly enraged, knowing that she's been looking for a divorce lawyer. But to call her slutty?! Sorry, but that is bang out of order! Is he making out that perhaps she's having an affair, which is why she may be looking for a divorce?! But then HE announces that he's actually seeking an divorce! Saying it's best for them to get HER out of everyone's lives! This clearly comes as a shock to Chantelle, to be honest, in all seriousness ... what actually has she done?! Chantelle has done NOTHING, she's the one who has been the victim of Gray's outbursts for years and years, and yet he's divorcing her?! I'd kind of wished Chantelle had told him sooner that she was divorcing him, but of course - in her situation, she had to it secretly. This is going to be such a blow for Chantelle, he's even letting on that she wont even be able to see her children. How the hell is she going to be able to turn this around?!

The next time we see Chantelle, she is in the bath, Gray's words clearly playing on her mind. Footsteps can be heard of Gray coming up the stairs and approaching the bathroom, she looks in fear to the door as the footsteps get closer. The door of bathroom unlocks and Gray appears, he again repeats himself and says he wants her out. She pleads with him to talk it through, saying the children can't be without their mother! He claims he can provide for them himself and keep them with him, she pleads for him to make their marriage work. He lets out a sigh and tells her to prove it! Prove what exactly?! She's curled up in ball in the bath as he slowly approaches her, with not even any form of emotion in his face. He leans onto the side of the bath and tells her "If you love your kids, prove it. Do this and we can call all this off!" ... At this moment in time, I'm thinking - what does he mean? "Do this?" ... Chantelle is begging him saying "Please not this!" ... does she have some kind of fear of water? Or is something darker about to happen?

Next minute, we see Ian let himself into the Vic, he sees a light is on upstairs and he makes his way up, hoping to see that Sharon has returned. He finds her in the kitchen, they both share a look and Ian starts to make excuses for Dotty. Instantly Sharon interrupts him and says "What aren't you telling me?!" ... Sharon and Ian have friends for a very long time, you'd think she'd know if he had been hiding something from her. But once again he worms his way out of the big lie/secret, and instead informs Sharon that Dennis was posting abuse about Bobby instead. He explains that she was giving birth to Kayden while it was all going on and he thought he'd be able to handle it. But as a good point, Sharon says that that was then, so why has he kept quiet since then and not told her? It looks as if as soon as Ian is about to explain why, she answers for him ... He didn't want her to feel bad about him? Because she was going through enough already? ... Ian's eyes and ears are in absolute disbelief! Something else he's letting her believe, that he's being such a good friend to her ... when it actual fact, it's been lie after lie! She then thanks him!!!!! Oh my gosh!!! I am watching this with my face in my hands ... can Ian not stoop any lower?! How long is he going to worm his way out of this? The more he lies, the more worse it's going to be once the truth finally comes out! He even says "You've got nothing to thank me for!" ... hmmm - is that the guilt sinking in?!

Suddenly, the scene goes back to Chantelle and Gray ... Chantelle can be seen lying underwater, with Gray watching over her. Gray is clearly timing her as she holds her breath underwater. She lets out a scream underwater and Gray raises his arm in a signal for her to come up. She is clearly gasping for breath. How long has she been having to hold her breath? He's pretty much nearly drowning her without actually physically touching her. Controlling how long she stays under water for. As she's gasping for breath and coughing, he shrugs it off and says "Wasn't so bad, was it?" Then as if nothing has happened, he tells her to get changed and go and pick up their children. I am absolutely baffled by this! Not only is Gray physically abusing his wife, but he's also playing mind games and controlling her. It's typical domestic abuse!

Back at the hospital, Callum finally arrives to be with Ben for his appointment. Ben is seen with wires connected behind his ears, Phil watching and waiting, sat next to him. Callum bursts through the door, apologetic to his boyfriend, he asks them if he had missed anything. Phil says to him that he should've been there an hour ago, Callum explains that something came up at work - the next thing is really interesting - Phil asks him whether it was more important than being at the hospital with his boyfriend, Callum then pipes up to Phil and says "You tell me!" - there is clearly some tension between Callum and Phil, I can sense an atmosphere between them. Now Callum knows about the job they took part in, will he blame Phil for getting Ben involved? Which is way he seems so snappy at Phil! Suddenly Ben whispers "I heard you!" ... He turns to Callum and smiles and repeats himself "I heard you!" He laughs excitedly that the implant worked, could this mean that Ben's hearing could be returning?! Callum is thrilled for his boyfriend but can't help but feel let down that he had been lied to for weeks/months.

Oh!!!!! So that's how Ian got the money to spend on the Vic!!! He used the money from Max's share of the restaurant to buy the Vic!! It all makes perfect sense now! And of course, Max has absolutely no idea - that's someone else that's going to be annoyed with Ian when his lies and schemes come to light. Not only is Sharon going to be angry with him, but so will Max ... I have a feeling something is going to go very wrong for Ian and very soon. It's been revealed that Adam Woodyatt would be taking a long break from the soap, something to do with a story-line - is Ian going to flee before everything comes to light? Or are things going to be revealed and will he then make a run for it? Whichever way it goes, I don't think things will be the same for Ian, ever again.

The last scene of the episode tonight, Chantelle is looking frail as she's walking the children home. She's scared, Kheerat calls over to her explaining that it's going to take him longer for him to get the money, if not days, a couple of weeks. She softly says that she doesn't have a couple of weeks, she then drops the bombshell and says that she is leaving tomorrow! You can see in her eyes she is desperate to get away from Gray as soon as she can! I do fear that somehow Gray will end up finding out - or she'll end up getting hold up and not being able to go through with her plans. It's also devastating too that right now she hasn't even confided in her Mum or Dad, we've seen nothing from Karen or Mitch - if only Chantelle could find the strength to tell her family and not suffer in silence! I do believe the next few episodes are going to be really hard to watch, as harrowing as it's going to be, I'm sure EastEnders will do a brilliant job in bringing it to the screen. It's a very important story-line and i'm positive both Jessica Plummer and Toby-Alexander Smith will do it justice! I hope you've all enjoyed my blog tonight, I once again apologise for posting so late. I'll be back again soon following the next episode. Enjoy the rest of your night folks! xXx

#eastenders #chantelleatkins #grayatkins #ianbeale #sharonwatts #dottycotton #kheerat panesar #bobbybeale #maxbranning #callumhighway #benmitchell #philmitchell #ballum

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namjuicyy · 5 years ago

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Sweet Night

.: Sweet Night :.

Taehyung x Gender Neutral!Reader

Your best friend is due to get married on Friday and you’re his best person. But what happens when the dynamic changes?

ficswithluv | masterlist | requests are open

Words: 4.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of depression; a disgusting amount of pining; reader and Tae being absolute idiots; implied smut (so Tae’s cheating);

S u n d a y

It was so cliche; being forced to share a bed in this tiny log cabin with your best friend. Seokjin just assumed that because you and Tae were so close you'd both be more than happy to share a double for the weekend. Hell, you'd done it ever since you were little and still sometimes to this day, so why would this weekend be any different? It shouldn't be. Yet there you lay in the darkness, wide awake and listening to Taehyung's breathing as he slept behind you, holding you close to his body as he had done every time you shared a bed since you were children. Arguably it's your fault he can't sleep without cuddling something - but you refuse to accept that accusation.

You weren't quite sure when things began to change for you; when you stopped seeing Taehyung as the greasy little boy with a boxy smile who used to terrorise the neighbour's cat under the guise of loving it and began seeing him as a beautiful young man, who wore that same smile whilst terrorising you. You didn't know when you started to fall helplessly and irrevocably in love with him. It just seemed that one morning you woke up and - poof! - feelings. What you didn't know was that there was a storm raging behind you inside the mind of the very man you had fallen for.

He was awake, eyes open in the darkness and staring at the back of your head as his mind screamed at him in the silence. Like you, he assumed his best friend was asleep and did his best not to disturb you with the never ending torture he was putting himself through. You'd gotten softer as you got older. There was more of you to grab, more of you to snuggle into. Your hair smelled like the cherry blossoms on Jeju Island and it took him back to the Spring you'd spent together on the island while the blossoms were in bloom. Pink petals fell on your hair as they blew off the trees. You turned to look at him and he could have sworn he was shot in the backside with one of Cupid's arrows. You were the most beautiful, most perfect creature he had ever laid his eyes on. He was able to pinpoint the exact moment he realised he was in love with you - it was then. When you were enthralled by the beauty of the nature surrounding you and paying no mind to him. When you were smiling brightly and taking photos with your own camera. He had to take a photo of you while you were so happy; so serene and peaceful.

You weren't allowed near his phone after that day, which was peculiar for the two of you as you'd both been so open with one another since the beginning. The reason for this was his home screen was that picture of you; his absolute favourite picture of you. You were so lost in the blossoms you hadn't noticed him taking your picture and though you were looking at his camera you weren't registering that it was in his hand. He caught your face lit up and partially hidden behind the raining petals while staring directly into his soul with adoration in his eyes. It was that picture he made sure to look at every time he did something on his phone. And it was that picture that remained in his data every single day for two years straight.

But God forbid he ever told you how he felt. Neither of you wanted to ruin this perfect relationship you had with each other and both of you assumed that confessing would do that. You both would rather each other in your lives as a friend than not at all. Which was, perhaps, an even worse thing to do as both of you were miserable and constantly pining after one another.

The members tried to get involved - tried to force you two to confess to each other on multiple occasions; and you almost did. However, the announcement of his most recent girlfriend stopped you and landed you in a month-long episode of depression. He was still with her - they were actually engaged, which was odd considering he was sharing a bed with you right now. Yet nothing would ever happen between you. In your eyes he was in love with her and in his eyes you didn't love him like he loved you.

You remember the day he told you the bad news.

"We're actually getting married." He announced over dinner when it was just the two of you.

You spat your drink out over him. "M-married? As in, in love forever, will one day have 2.5 kids in a three bedroom apartment crawling with dogs and dirty nappies married? Not married as in fake married to shut your parents up married?"

Tae laughed, his boxy smile making you melt. "As in through sickness and in health, richer for poorer until death do us part married, yes."

The richer for poorer line didn't sit well with you. "You asked her already?" He nodded in response. "And she said yes?"

"Don't act so surprised - I am quite the catch you know."

"What else is wrong with the girl besides the obvious?"

Tae groaned, "___."

"I'm sorry. Congratulations are in order, dude! I'm pleased for you." That was a blatant lie. He'd only been dating her for two years. He was only twenty-five... well, twenty-seven in Korean age which made more sense when you thought about it, but still.

"I actually wanted to ask you something."

"You want the funeral song played at the wedding? Sure thing."

"___!" Tae sighed but he was grinning a little at your joke. "We're going to be having a more Westernised wedding than traditional Korean. Obviously we will have the traditional Korean elements like the paebaek but we're going to be taking a more Western spin on it. So I was wondering if you would be my best man - or rather, best person."

You grit your teeth and swallowed the lump in your throat. Force a smile, force a smile! "Of course, Tae-Tae. I'd be honoured."

Cut to you crying on Yoongi's shoulder at 4am because you couldn't bear to go through with the role you had been given yet had no option but to go through with it. You couldn't breathe. You felt like you were trapped and the worst part about it all was that you made this prison yourself. The bars were made with all the words you never said with a lock made from the silence you hid behind. You could scream and scream and scream all you wanted but it was almost too late. You were too late.

This weekend getaway was a macabre farewell to Taehyung's "single" life given that the wedding was on Friday. Everything was all planned out and ready. Rehearsals had been completed. Outfits were chosen. He was really going through with this.

You turned in Taehyung's arms to look at his sleeping face only to be met with his eyes fully open and staring at you.

"I thought I could feel a creep watching me." You teased.

"Your snoring kept me awake. I was thinking of all the ways to kill you so I could get some peace and quiet."

"Oh wow, you can think? I wondered what that burning smell was."

"Hey! I'm smart, you know."

"Oh yeah? What's your IQ?"

"130."

"Alright fine."

"Not just a pretty face."

"I wouldn't even call you that."

"You're cruisin' for a bruisin', young lady."

"Ooh 'young lady'. Sorry, daddy. I'll try to behave."

The smile that was once on Taehyung's face slowly disappeared. He wasn't his usual bubbly self and he hadn't been for the last few weeks. Every time you asked him what was wrong, he automatically answered with "pre-wedding jitters. I'm fine." You knew Taehyung, though; and he wasn't fine. You've seen him when he's fine and he certainly isn't fine now. "Talk to me." You demanded gently. He hesitated. "You know I'm just going to keep asking until you tell me the truth."

"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing by marrying her."

"Are you in love with her?"

He was silent for a moment. "I do love her. I'm just not in love with her. That title belongs with someone else."

"So if you aren't in love with her - which you should be, by the way, if you're marrying her - then why would you marry her when you could be perfectly happy with someone else?"

"I don't want to hurt her - and I don't want to throw away my future and the possibility of being a dad one day for a chance with someone else when I'm fairly confident they don't love me back."

"Have they told you that they don't love you?"

"Well... no."

"Well then, there you go."

"They also haven't told me that they do love me like that, though."

"What do you want, Tae?"

"I want... happiness. I want to get married to someone I actually adore rather than someone I couldn't say no to."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't tell you the whole truth. I didn't tell anyone. I didn't ask her to marry me. She asked me to marry her. I couldn't say no to her and risk losing the relationship I grew comfortable in."

"Why lie?"

"I didn't want to be judged. I know you wouldn't I just... I don't know. It felt like the right thing to do."

"Tae-"

"I know' I need to make a decision. I just don't want to. I'm comfortable here."

"Here?"

"In this room where no one can get me in a warm bed next to someone who means the world to me." You didn't know what to say so you decided to remain quiet. That sounded somewhat like a confession but you couldn't get your hopes up. What if it wasn't a confession? What if he was just being his usual, beautiful self? You still weren't confident enough to ask him or tell him your own fragile truth. He was so brave for laying himself bare like that. How could you ever compare? "Would it be alright if I pulled you closer?"

Actions spoke louder than words did, so instead of waiting for him to pull you towards him, you snuggled into his body allowing your head to bury itself in his neck. Even for you two this wasn't normal best friend behaviour.

Do it. Your brain egged you on. Tell him. Now! Yet you still couldn't do it. Even though you had the perfect opportunity to, you just couldn't confess everything to him. You couldn't be as brave as he was just now. What was wrong with you?

"It's your turn." He told you, as though he could read your thoughts. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"It's empty up here, Tae. You know this."

"Hey." Tae pushed you away a little but gently so as not to offend or startle you. "I'm the only one who's allowed to pick on you.

You didn't know who leaned in first. It could very well have been you but time seemed to alter as your lips moved towards one another. They connected; it was gentle at first but things soon began to heat up. You allowed Taehyung to use his tongue as he kissed you, as your bodies pressed together ever tighter until there was no room left. You've read that kissing your best friend was supposed to feel like kissing a sibling - it was meant to feel disgusting and wrong - yet you both couldn't pull away from each other as though strong magnets had been placed in your lips and connected as you kissed. In fact, though you could feel your heart racing and his hands wandering your body, your brain cleared itself of everything. It didn't allow you to concentrate on the fact that you were kissing the man you've loved for a long time. Nor did it remind you that said man had a fiancée waiting for him at home; whom he didn't love and could never. It never occurred to you to tell him to stop even when he started to slot himself in between your legs, when you let him cum inside you and when you held each other to sleep that night finally holding one another as you'd wanted to for years.

You were disappointed on Monday morning when he wasn't beside you when you woke up. You were dejected to discover he wasn't even in the house and you were upset when you found out he returned home alone.

T u e s d a y

Taehyung hadn't spoken to you since Sunday night when you both gave yourselves to one another. To be completely honest, you hadn't tried to get in contact with him either. Sunday had felt so right that you had assumed, perhaps foolishly, that he would end things with his fiancée and would come crawling to you dismayed at hurting her but excited for your future together. You thought you'd see him Monday evening after spending time with her yet you were well into the late hours of Tuesday evening and you'd not heard a peep. Not a single word from him or about him from any of your mutual friends. You didn't know what was going on but you knew that things were awkward between the two of you - and that the wedding was still going ahead. You knew this because his fiancée had sent you a reminder three minutes ago via email that tomorrow was the final wedding rehearsal and that everyone had to be there.

T h u r s d a y

You didn't show up to the final rehearsal - how could you? You had slept with the bride's fiancée and that was the ultimate crime you could commit. How could you show your face to everyone after consenting to such an insensitive act? How could Taehyung more importantly. It was his fault just as much as it as yours and yet his conscience had allowed him to turn up unashamedly pretending to be the dutiful future husband while little did his precious bride-to-be he had been balls deep in someone else.

There was a knock at your door not three hours after the wedding rehearsal had ended and much to your surprise, Park Jimin stood there holding a bag of Tupperware boxes containing your share and the leftovers of the wedding feast. The moment he saw your puffy eyes and your distant smile he knew something big had happened. He had no idea how bad the damage was, but "Tae looks exactly like you do." He told you. "He wasn't himself at the wedding rehearsal but he wouldn't tell me why. Which isn't like him. What happened? Did you two have a falling out or something?"

"Not exactly."

It took Jimin all of three seconds to piece together what would have happened. If you hadn't had an argument, but you both aren't speaking and you didn't show up to the rehearsal today it could only mean one thing. "When did it happen?"

"Sunday night."

"Have you spoken since then?"

"No."

"Why?"

"He obviously doesn't want to, Jimin. If he did then I may have shown up today or at least I'd know where I stand with him. If he wanted me around he would have made an effort but he obviously doesn't. Anyway, it's probably for the best that the slut that fucked her best friend five days before his wedding doesn't show up. I couldn't face tomorrow before all of this happened, how am I supposed to now?"

"By talking to him? Calling him? Ask him to come over so you can talk face-to-face."

"I don't know if I can. It still wouldn't change anything, would it? He would still marry her tomorrow."

"You don't know that."

"I do. That's it now. He no longer wants me around."

Jimin, by the time he left your place that night was absolutely furious. He was angry at you for moping around and not contacting Tae. He was angry at Tae for even getting married to that woman in the first place when it was obvious he was in love with you; and he was livid at Taehyung for not contacting you after the both of you slept together to hash it out and see where your relationship was going to end up. So he contacted Tae himself and gave him an earful down the phone.

Taehyung had no intention of changing his plans.

F r i d a y

You were meant to be at the wedding today but of course you couldn't do it. Simply bringing yourself out of bed should have been enough today let alone watching the man you were desperately in love with marry someone else. Everything hurt; your head, your bones, your heart. How could something as simple as someone getting married take such a toll on your body?

Midday rolled around - the wedding should be starting now. You poured yourself another glass of wine and tried to bury yourself in a horror movie. Your usual self-care movie featured couples happily in love and you couldn't do that to yourself. So instead you opted for movies where couples were horrifically killed in multiple different ways. Yes, this will do just nicely.

Your phone had been ringing all day to the point where you put it on silent and turned it over so you couldn't see the display screen and see which member of the wedding party was trying to get in touch with you today. Going awol was the best thing you could do. Lying would have hurt you more, and turning up may have been deadly. Instead you kept your curtains closed and your phone as far away from you as possible.

That was when you heard it - rapid knocks at the door that forced you out of your blanket burrito on the couch and towards the front door. Had you known who it was you wouldn't have answered the door. Had you known more trouble would come by opening the door you wouldn't have left your spot on the sofa.

Her.

On your doorstep Tae's fiancée stood wearing her puffy, princess wedding dress and makeup running down her face. You know how much money was spent on the artists to put her face together and there it all went rolling down her cheeks.

"Where is he?" She sobbed at you.

"If he's not with you, love then I haven't got a clue."

"He's normally with you when he's hiding from me. He must be in here somewhere."

"Well," you stepped aside, "you're more than welcome to come in and look for him but all you'll find that's keeping me company is my own filth."

"So if he isn't here then where is he?"

"I haven't spoken to him since Sunday, honey. I've no idea. Now, please can you leave so I can wallow in self-pity and you can go ahead and get married?"

"Don't you get it, yet? The wedding's off! He left me at the altar. No one can get in touch with him. No one knows where he is."

This wasn't like Taehyung to just disappear without telling anyone where he was. You knew him better than anyone. At a time like this, if no one could find him it meant he needed to think. He always went to think sat in the grounds of Gyeongbokgung Palace in Seoul. Since moving to Seoul from Daegu, he had always enjoyed the traditional palaces because of how quiet they were, and how you couldn't hear or see the modern world. It was serene and peaceful and when he had taken the right precautions to cover his face he was unrecognisable and left alone. You had no doubt he'd be there.

"I know."

"Would you go to him?"

"No. I'll tell Jimin where he is and Jimin can go."

"___, please. You're the only one he listens to and talks to. Please."

You relented and did as she asked. Maybe if you could save their relationship the guilt would stop eating you alive. Though, of course, this wasn't guaranteed and there was an even higher chance that you'd end up hurting a lot more for this - and even lose Taehyung forever; but this seemed like the right thing to do. So you showered quickly, dressed and left the house with wet hair making your way to the palace.

You were entering the grounds taking in the smells of nature when you noticed the cherry blossoms. You hadn't realised they were in bloom yet. You were so preoccupied in your little problems you'd forgotten the seasons still changed around you. The palace was so much more beautiful now there was a dusting of pink sprinkled around the grounds. You could fully understand why Taehyung enjoyed coming to this place to think and relax.

You saw him sat there - to you he stuck out like a sore thumb but the tourists completely ignored his presence. Knowing he'd run if he saw you, you took the longer route to get to him, joining him on the bench without asking too afraid he'd get up and walk away before you had chance to say your peace.

"Shouldn't you be getting married now?" You asked him when you'd been sat beside him a little while.

"I wondered how long it would take for you to get summoned. Who was it? Jiminie? Namjoonie-hyung?"

"The woman you left at the altar."

"Ah."

"Though I have to say, I didn't think I'd see a woman in a wedding dress on my doorstep... ever. Thank you for that first."

"You're welcome - I know it's what you've always wanted."

"So why did you do it? Why aren't you getting married today?"

"I had too much to think about."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Taehyung," you said sternly, "don't you dare. You fucked me not even a week ago then shut me out of your life to the point where I thought you didn't want me in it anymore. You then proceed to shut everyone else out, leave your bride at the altar so she comes knocking on my door looking like an absolute mess and dragging me out of my blanket burrito to bring your moping ass back to her, and you aren't even offering me an explanation to tell me why all of this has happened. Neither of us are leaving until I get the answers I'm looking for, Tae. Even if it means we're sat here all night. You're opening up and that's final."

"I fucked up big time, didn't I?" He asked quietly. "You don't have to say it - I know. I've ruined everything because I was afraid. I was afraid to hurt her, afraid to hurt you. Eomma got so excited when I told her I was getting married and I've disappointed her."

"You definitely haven't disappointed your mum, Tae. Not by not getting married anyway. She knows you will one day - she just wants you to be happy and loved. That's all any of us want."

"I got scared." He told you. At this point tears were beginning to form in his eyes. He pitied himself and his decisions of course, but those tears weren't for him. The tears were for everyone he thought he'd disappointed but hurt in the process. "I had what I thought I wanted but when I had that I discovered it wasn't what I wanted at all. I thought I loved her - I thought I wanted to marry her and spend the rest of my life with her. It turns out, though, I wanted you instead... and then I had you - finally! Do you know how long I waited to have you? Everything became too real, though, and it freaked me out. It showed me that I wanted you... that my feelings for you hadn't gone and that I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life but I couldn't end it because I couldn't hurt her and I-" He took a deep breath but he began to sob. "I just wanted a forever, and now my forever's falling down and I can't stop it. I'm sorry, ___. I'm so, so sorry!"

His head fell on your shoulder as he wept harder, drawing more attention to him than perhaps he intended but still people didn't realise who he was. Or if they did they let him be which you were grateful for. There was a huge part of you that couldn't believe Tae had just confessed. After all these years of pining and wanting him finally he could be yours. All you had to do was tell him. "Tae, you have absolutely no idea just how much I adore you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you - maybe even marry you if things go well. I love you. I want you too. But you're still engaged."

Taehyung blinked. "I'm not. She doesn't know it yet but I'm ending things with her. You're right, it wasn't fair of me to do that to her. She deserves better than someone who only wants her because he's too afraid to be lonely."

"I'm proud of you, even if you are the world's biggest idiot sometimes."

"Would I - would I ever have a chance with you? You know, when I'm not officially engaged."

"Do you not want to spend some time being single first?"

"I was pretty much single with her. It feels like I'm about to hurt a friend - not a fiancée."

"Take me on a date first and we'll talk about it. And no, before you ask McDonald's does not count as a date."

"You're such a loser."

"Yeah but you love me."

"And you love me."

#ficswithluv #bulletproof bingo #fwlbingo #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #bts au #kim taehyung fic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung smut

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kaspbrak-tozier-reddie · 5 years ago

Text

I Swear, Bill

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of suicide, mentions of blood, slight mentions of Reddie and Benverly

Requests opened

———————————————————————

It was a normal night, Patty was finishing up dinner and Stanley was doing a puzzle in light of stimulating his mind.

As he went to place a piece into place, his phone buzzed on the glass table, scaring him. It was an unknown number from Maine. “Hello, this is Stanley Uris.” Stan answered.

“Stan it’s Michael Hanlon from Derry.” The unknown caller responded.

Stan’s mind tried to recall, Derry? Where had I - oh. Oh shit!

“Mike, Oh My God! It’s been what 30 years? What’s up man?!”

“27 actually. But unfortunately it’s not good news.”

Stan almost immediately dropped the phone once he hung up. He had a good life, he didn’t want to return. He had a wife, a good job, a lovely house, wealthy. Why would he want to go back to that ghastly place?! Sure there was some great memories, the Losers, the quarry, Bill. But the bad outweighed the good.

Pennywise

Pennywise was back and terrorising Derry?! Stan couldn’t give two shits about it but this was a chance to see his friends.

“Patty, I’m just going to have a shower.” Stan called to his wife, while he was half way up the stairs.

He turned the tap, for the bath, on and got out a razor blade. He didn’t want to but everything that was coming back to him pushed on his mind. It was overwhelming but then he thought back to Bill.

“Oh lord! I’m just as stupid as fucking Richard!” Stan whispered to himself. He placed the razor blade back where he found it and simply just had a bath. “I swear, Bill. I’ll come back.”

It was a 2 day trip for Stan. He knew he missed the happy reunion before the bullshit that was to follow.

Stanley pulled up at the only inn in town. It was maybe just as old as he was as it was a newish inn back when he was a kid and now here it was 27 years later. The paint was chipping and asbestos was obviously laced in with the paint. Great, he thought, I’ll probably have cancer from breathing that shit in. Maybe Eddie is also freaking out, he was a hypochondriac afterall.

He checked into a room and walked up the stairs only to hear screams. He ran up and was faced with a bleeding Eddie, a Beverly who looked like she was about to pass out, a Richie who was concerned for his life long crush (literally) and was pissed off at whoever did that to Eddie and Ben who had no clue what happened.

“Stan?!” Ben asked.

“Oh my god Stan! We thought you weren’t coming!” Bev chimed.

“Yeah yeah hi Stanley Urine, it’s great to see you again but can we focus on Eddie who was almost fucking killed!” Richie huffed.

“Ah, still the same old pining Trashmouth.” Stan retorted.

“What?!” Eddie demanded, confused with what Stan had said.

“Been a day and you still haven’t told the fella.” Richie was about to throw hands at Stan’s comment. “Gee Rich thought you got some balls after you kissed him at graduation and asked him out!” Richie removed himself from Eddie and was about to hit Stan but Bev and Ben stepped in between them.

“You’re one to talk. What happened with you and Bill? Never told him your feelings?”

Stan recoiled and walked in shame towards his room.

He loved Patty, she was great. She was everything he ever wanted. Even though she didn’t cook often, she was a fantastic chef. But then there was Bill.

Stan’s heart pounded whenever he saw Bill’s photo in a bookshop advertising his latest book. He always wondered why Bill looked familiar and now he knows.

Stan realised his crush on the ringleader back in senior year of high school. It was only minor at first and thought it was just one of those man crush things that will pass.

But as time went on, Stan was turning down girls left right and centre in hopes that Bill would notice him.

Sure enough graduation came and Stan worked up the courage to finally tell Bill but Bill had gotten himself a girlfriend a few weeks prior.

He had watched Ben and Bev kiss while getting their robes. Bill kiss his new girlfriend during Stan’s valedictorian speech. And finally Richie kiss Eddie deeply during the hat toss.

He could’ve sworn that Richie and Eddie got together and same with Ben and Bev but clearly that never happened. Or maybe it did but the further away they got from Derry the more they forgot.

As Stan forgot about Bill, he found himself saying yes to more dates and finally settled on a nice woman in his final year of college and married her 4 years after. No other man was as attractive as Bill was back when they were in high school. Or maybe it was just a man crush.

A knock on the startled him, making him jump a little. “Stan, we’re going to Neibolt.” Ben said, “Bill’s gone there already.”

“Okay.” Stan called back.

He had to quickly get his shit together before going. He had to be in the right mind to face tge blasted clown.

As they all walked to Neibolt, Stan got massive anxiety. Flashbacks of the 7 of them standing in front of the boarded up abandoned house. “Eddie, do you have the asthma puffer still?” Stan asked.

“No.” Eddie replied, “all I’ve got is an empty one that I’m throwing in as part of the ritual.”

“I have his spare.” Richie replied. Eddie watched as Richie handed Stan the inhaler.

“Did you make a stop at the pharmacy to get that?!”

“No, I’ve held onto it after high school. I couldn’t part with it, I never knew why.” Richie shrugged. The spare puffer had no expiration date but it’s ingredients proved that it would never go off. So Stan took a few puffs.

“Oh my god! Just admit your feelings to each other!” Stan yelled.

Eddie and Richie looked at each other in horror. It wasn’t a secret that they liked each other and Stan’s birdwatching hobby and attention to detail (his OCD in other words) helped him realise the signs. The signs that Richie and Eddie liked each other. It was also the same with Ben towards Bev and in the end Beverly to Ben.

“Bill you don’t have to do this alone!” Bev stated as soon as they reached the gate.

“You guys didn’t have to come. I want to kill this fucking clown!” Bill huffed. Classic Bill, always the hero.

“He didn’t stutter once.” Richie muttered like he had 27 years prior. “Bill. You made us walk through shitty water, you punched me in the fucking face when we were kids. You also made me beat the living shit outta the clown to save your sorry ass!”

“We’re killing this motherfucking clown once and for all, with you!” Eddie finished.

The 7 grown adults entered the building. It was worse than Stan remembered. There was dark green goop everywhere coming from upstairs. Parts of the stairwell were gone as were some of the floor.

Richie had said something to the whole group but Stan was too caught up in his regret to hear it. Just like it was back in the day, he didn’t want to go in. He didn’t want to go down into the sewers. The only time he voluntarily went into the house was when Eddie, Richie and Bikl were attacked which led to a fight between Richie and Bill because of Eddie almost bejng killed.

As the group went down the well, 1 by 1, Stan tried to regain his courage he had when he left his home. He knew that if he didn’t find it soon, he’d be killed in a heartbeat.

He watched as Bill stopped walking for a split second, so that he could walk with Stan. “You didn’t have to Bill.” Stan whispered.

“I wanted to, besides you weren’t there last night.” Bill retorted. “Tell me what you got up to.”

“Well, I became an accounted, I married a wonderful woman and have a beautiful house. You?”

“I became a writer and I married Audra.” Bill said. So that was the girl that Bill started seeing in high school. Great! “But I’m not happy.”

“What?! Bill?”

“I love Audra but there’s always been someone else that I’ve loved. He’s a renown birdwatcher but I don’t know if he still is. He had this lovely dirty blonde hair that could pass off as brown in certain lighting.”

“Bill I -” Stan was cut off by seeing a rise in the water levels. It was bare back when they defeated the clown the first time.

Stan stood back as he watched all the others swim towards the mound of wood in the centre of the sewer. But Bev was pulled under, Stan’s instincts kicked in and he dove after Bev as did everyone but Eddie.

After the ritual failed and everyone came back together aftrr facing their fears. Well Bev, Ben, Richie and Eddie. Richie was put into the deadlights. “Hey asshole!” Eddie screamed, he aimed a fence post, that Bev had broken off, and threw it into the clown’s mouth.

Richie dropped but Stan knew what woukd happen and by the look on Richie’s face, he knew too.

Next thing Stan knew, he was bolting towards Eddie, pushing him off Richie and moving the two men away just as the claw from the clown’s spider like body came down. Richie escaped with a small puncture to his forearm but he too was safe.

“We need to make him small.” Eddie said. “He could resize himself but we need to find a way to make him small and weak.”

“He didn’t like it when I called him a ‘sloppy ass bitch’.” Richie noted.

“You’re just a clown! Nobody fucking likes you! You’re a motherfucking loser!” Stan started screaming. More and more insults left his mouth, none of the losers could say much as they watched Stan’s confidence grow.

Richie ripped off a leg and started wacking Pennywise with it. As Pennywise deflated, Bill grabbed the supernatural being’s heart and popped it. IT shattered and the walls started collapsing.

They all ran far from the Neibolt house and down to the Quarry. “Before we go in, I’d like to show you all something.” Richie announced. They all followed him to the kissing bridge, not too far from where they were.

There in big block letters was a ‘R + E’ the E was faint but there. Stan watched on and looked at Bill, but wasn’t smiling at what was happening, his face was pulled in a frown.

“Bill?” Stan questioned.

“Audra ... she uh. She was taken by IT.” Bill started. “They found her car at the gas station in town, and her uh, her body looked as though someone had eaten her heart.”

“Oh fuck! I’m so sorry Bill!” Stan hugged his best friend.

“Yeah but um, seeing that Richard has gotten his confidence. I feel like I should tell this man.”

“Dude your wife has just died!”

“I know but I was still going to tell this man and divorce Audra.” Stan was slightly uncomfortable, he knew Bill was talking about him but he loved Patty. Although any feeling that Stan had towards Bill, wasn’t completely gone.

“Bill I’m married and so are you, technically.”

Stan quickly caught up to the others who were waiting for Stan and Bill to show up so they could jump as a group.

“You okay?” Mike asked.

“No, Bill admitted his feelings towards me but we’re both married and I don’t want a divorce.” Stan admitted.

“For godsake! You wanted him throughout all of senior year.” Ben said.

“We get it, you love Patty but you love Bill.” Richie said.

“Choose who makes you happy. Don’t listen to these dickwads.” Eddie stated.

His first thought as he pulled out the razor was Bill. The first person he mentally apologised to was Bill. The person he was most excited to see was Bill. As much as he loved Patty, she was way down the list of people he was apologising to.

In fact she wasn’t on the list at all! On his mental apology list was first Bill (his crush), then Richie (his first ever best friend), Eddie (his second best friend) and then Ben, Bev and Mike who later followed in the Summer of ’89.

As Bill finally entered the clearing of the cliff, Stan kissed him. He knew who made him happy and as much as he wanted it to be Patty, Bill was there for him in his moments of need. Much like Richie for Eddie.

“You’re my Richie to my Eddie.” Stan said to Bill, loud enough for the Losers to hear. Bill cracked a smile and kissed him again.

“Oh good lord! I’m offended!” The Trashmouth said fakely and placed a hand over his heart.

“Beep, beep, Richie.” Eddie said. “We jumping or what?!”

#stenbrough #stan x bill #stanley uris #stanley uris imagine #bill denbrough #bill denbrough imagine #reddie #benverly #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2

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beautifulletdownfics · 5 years ago

Text

‘someday, someday’ :: tumblr edition, #22

Nina POV (Text messages - Harry Bold / Nina Italics)

Well.

Well?

That was truly wonderful. You stole the show. You have a beautiful voice. Your dance moves will get there x

Why thank you, Nina Mae. Are you offering dance lessons?

I mean it, Harry. It was amazing. You radiated joy. You should be proud.

❤️

“Nina, Nina, the whole day though ...”

I grinned at the deep, familiar singing voice, snuggling my cheek further into my pillow and bringing the blankets up to my eyes that I kept shut.

“… Just an old sweet song, keeps Nina on my mind …”

The bed sagged at my feet and I brought my legs up to my chest, trying to somehow root myself to the mattress. I wasn’t ready to be woken up yet.

“… I said a Nina, Nina, a song of you comes sweet and clear as moonlight through the pines …”

A hand grabbed for my calf and another started tugging at my sheets playfully. I groaned and held them tightly, hearing a deep breath pass through his nose.

“… Oh! Nina, Nina!”

I huffed dramatically and kicked my legs and the blankets to the end of the bed, sitting up and trying to muster up a harsh glare but failing miserably.

“Hello, my sweet,” my Dad greeted, smiling broadly at me, “Happy Christmas.”

“What’s up, Dad,” I greeted casually, stretching my arms above my head before rocking forward onto my knees to give him a kiss as I threw my legs around to put my feet on the carpet of my childhood bedroom.

“Sorry I wasn’t around yesterday or last night,” he said, leaning forward again to kiss my forehead, he turned so we were sitting side by side on the edge of the creaky twin bed.

“Ah,” I dismissed him, “My Dad’s a hotshot, I’m used to it.”

“You’re my hotshot, sweetheart.”

He’d been in France all week, rehearsing with and then conducting an orchestra in Paris for a Christmas Eve performance at the Palace of Versailles. He’d done the same performance the last few years, which is why this year not even my mum joined him, she opted to stay and be terrorised by all the cousins who were home for the holidays.

“How did it go?” I asked him, he must have only just gotten in.

“Excellent,” He said, “I ate at least two croissants a day, it was bliss.”

I laughed, “Is Laykn up yet?”

Dad shook his head and gave me wink, “I thought you might—

But before he had even finished his sentence I had jumped up and was clapping my hands together happily as I crossed the room, “Oh goodie.”

I skipped down the small hallway the connected the rooms of the upstairs of our house, pausing only for a second at my little brother’s door to look back at our dad who was laughing at me fondly from the top of the stairs. He gave me a nod and I threw open the door.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY DEAREST BROTHER!”

Laykn’s bedroom was dark but I knew it almost as well as I knew my own, I took a few large steps and just as he had yelled at me to fuck off, I launched myself onto his backside.

“I swear to god, Nina!”

He blindly swung his limbs around to get at me, but he was sleeping on his tummy and my sitting atop him firmly anchored him in the position. Eventually he gave up with a huff, keeping his eyes closed as if eventually I would think he had fallen back to sleep and then leave him alone.

“It’s Christmas morning,” I whispered, making him jump when I was uncomfortably close to his ear, Laykn squirmed away, “Let’s go see if Santa finally got us that puppy.”

“Get off me,” Laykn grunted. “You have a bony arse.”

“Thank you,” I popped back, leaning from one side to the other to really dig into him.

“You can either get off yourself or I’m going to throw you off,” He said, trying to sound threatening, “It’s not my fault if you concuss yourself on the wall.”

“What a grouch,” I singsonged, jumping off him and leaving his bedroom door open as I left the room.

“Shut the door!” He yelled, echoing all our arguments from when we were younger. I grinned, loving that I still had that effect on him despite the fact we weren’t kids anymore.

He was too easy.

Merry Christmas! Have a wonderful day. Pass on my love to your wonderful family x

Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, Harry. Don’t eat all the pudding x

I’m offended by the insinuation without your instruction I would.

Your sweet tooth is your blind spot :)

Lucky you’re sweet then x

Christmas blended that perfect feeling of being on holiday and being removed from normal life but also allowed me the comfort of reverting back to feeling like a kid. Everything about its familiarity breathed calm into me and I felt the stress and anxieties I was used to living with dull. I let myself be doted on and loved by my family, I got my fill of cuddles and life encouragement and good food.

Still, this wasn’t how I saw the afternoon playing out.

“Laykn!” My father’s voice boomed through the sterile room.

“Sorry Dad,” He mumbled earnestly from the seat next to the examination table I was propped up on, “I’m seventeen, my brain hasn’t finished developing,” He tried weakly.

“I don’t care about your bloody undeveloped brain!” Dad continued, “I care about your sister’s head!”

“Dad, I’m fine,” I tried, opening one eye but the light hurt so I clamped it shut again.

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Our father’s tone became more pleasant when aimed my way, he turned back to Laykn, “That’s why I get to be mad at you.”

“She ducked into it,” Laykn offered like maybe Dad didn’t already know.

“You threw the blasted thing to begin with! You’re daft, boy.” Dad shook his head. But his anger wasn’t menacing or threatening; it was parental.

“I didn’t mean for it to hit her!” Laykn defended himself, I leant my head back, wishing the splitting headache cracking open my skull away, “I was throwing it at Martin and Nina got in the way!”

“Where’s Mum?” I asked softly, “I want drugs.”

We were at the local doctor’s office. This was the place I had come my whole life any time I was sick or unwell. Our family had a regular doctor, Dr. Richard Andrews, who had looked after all of us for as long as I could remember. We had been here close to an hour and I just wanted to go home.

“Nina,” Dr. Andrews came into the examination room from the small hallway. “How’s your head feeling?”

His coming back told me that thirty minutes has passed since he had finished stitching me up. I was instructed to stay put so they could keep an eye in case any allergy or sign of concussion appeared.

“She’s got a headache,” Laykn answered for me, looking worried. “And there’s a bit of blood coming out of the stitch.”

“Come on, son,” My father clamped a hand on Laykn’s shoulder and pointed to the door, his demeanour softening somewhat, “Let’s leave your sister for a bit, yeah? She’s okay. Come on.”

Laykn’s look of distress momentarily heightened but I smiled at him and he soon complied. He scurried out of the room with one final check back on me at the door, he raised his hand in a wave and then was gone.

“That’s one mighty guilty looking younger brother you’ve got there,” Dr. Andrews said when they had left the room, he was putting on a fresh pair of surgical gloves and then leaned in to gently investigate my left cheek and eyebrow, “I’d say you’ll be able to milk him of anything you want for a month at least, two if you play your cards right.”

I chuckled as his hand carefully pressed against the back of my head and he tilted my face up so he could investigate the cut above my left eyebrow where my four newly acquired stitches sat. The top of my cheek under it felt the size of the apple that Laykn had thrown, the skin felt tight, hot and throbbing.

“He didn’t mean it,” I sighed, wincing when Dr. Andrews pressed his fingers around the wound. He looked away to grab some swabs off the table and dipped it in some yellow disinfectant, then brought it up and dabbing it on my head.

“Little brother’s rarely do,” he agreed, “You shouldn’t have a very big scar. At most a centimetre, but it won’t be very thick.”

“That’s fine,” I clamped my eyes shut when the swab got caught on one of the stitches in my head and tugged uncomfortably. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” Dr. Andrews said quickly, “These will fall out in a few weeks and the wound will get itchy, try not to scratch, that will help with the scarring. Your Mum’s gone to fill the prescription for the painkillers downstairs in the chemist.”

“Thanks,” I smiled at the familiar older man. My head would hurt for a few more days, he had told me earlier. But I was lucky that I didn’t have a concussion and it looked like I wasn’t going to get a black eye either.

He sat back and took off his gloves, “Everything else going okay, Nina? How is London?”

“I’ve been really good,” I offered slowly, “This year has been really good.”

“Your dad says you’re the star of the London Philanthropic,” Dr Andrews smiled. “I’ll need to get down for a performance.”

I smiled, “Please do.”

“Did you have anything you wanted to talk to me about?”

I swallowed thickly. He noticed. Why do doctor’s always ask that question?

“How are you going in terms of your depression and anxiety?” Dr. Andrews was never one to delay getting to the crux of things. He had been the one who first diagnosed me, and I knew that he cared how I was doing.

“I’m okay,” I started, “I mean … It’s life … Sometimes it’s fine and somethings it’s not.”

“Are you having regular bad spells?”

I thought about my answer for a second, “Not regular, no. Every couple of months maybe, if that.”

“That’s good,” He nodded, eyebrows raised, “Your medication is all feeling okay?’

I nodded.

“Okay,” He said, “Well, the painkillers shouldn’t interfere with them at all. But please call me if you have any concerns. Anytime, you know that.”

“I do,” I provided, “Thanks for patching me up.”

“Make that brother of yours pay, Nina,” Dr. Andrews grinned knowingly.

“Oh, I will,” I chirped back.

Your performance is on BBC4 right now. It’s beautiful background music to my slow death by Christmas roast leftovers.

I’m at the pub! You have to leave the house to escape it :)

The food coma or the music!?

🎺

“Are you a fuckboy pretending to be a nice guy … Or actually a nice guy?”

“Ah,” I watched as the guy who had been talking to Georgie all day at the pub opened and closed his mouth like a guppy. His eyes darted over at us as though we might be able to rescue him. No such help emerged.

Bel was typing furiously on her phone and Sam was talking to a guy we went to high school with.

“It’s a simple question, really,” Georgie continued, turning to me, “Right Nina? Are you a fuckboy?”

Her question had been aimed at me the second time, “Um, no … I’m not a fuckboy,” I replied obediently.

“See?" Georgie gestured to me with a wide arm, "It’s an easy enough question to answer.”

I was saved from the conversation by my phone buzzing in my pocket. My heart started racing at seeing Harry's name and the smile that came over my face was automatic. Whatever feeling of concern I had for leaving the fumbling guy with Georgie was only fleeting.

"Hiya," I chirped down the phone line. As I waited for Harry to speak, I slipped down off the stool I was perched on and started towards the small beer garden where it would be quieter.

"Hi!" Harry hurried, his voice low and hushed, "I don't have long, but I need your help, do you have a second?"

I was frowning as I pushed open the door to outside and found a spare table I could lean against.

"I do, what's going on?"

"Which composer wrote 'The Erl King?'" He said quietly, as though reciting the question from memory.

I was momentarily confused, not having expected to have heard from Harry and also not understanding the context of his question. I took a second to run through things in my mind, recalling the few text conversations we'd had over the last few days.

I grinned, "Are you cheating at some kind of game right now, Harry?"

I remembered him saying his family spent the days following Christmas bunkered down together playing board games and eating leftovers.

He drew out a pause, "Yes ... You know the answer though right?"

"That depends," I decided to play with him a little, "Did you mean the poem or the song?"

"The poem or the ..." Harry trailed off, then let out a little sigh, "What?"

I scoffed in mock horror, "I can't believe you're a cheater."

"I'm not!" He insisted, "But Gemma's boyfriend is practically a genius and they're kicking my arse right now! I'm in the bathroom so you've got to hurry and tell me the answer ... They'll think I'm having some horrific bowel movement if I take much longer!"

I was laughing at him now, it was clear he was lost in the competitiveness of whatever game they were playing, "You realise in the time it took you to call me you could have just Googled this from the bathroom?"

"Yes, but it was an excuse to speak to you. What a mistake that was," He said sarcastically.

I tutted at Harry disapprovingly but then put him out of his misery, "'The Erl King' is a German poem by some guy ... But Franz Schubert famously composed a musical accompaniment to it in 1815."

"Schubert!" Harry exclaimed happily, "Brilliant. Thank you."

"Mhhm, super interesting guy actually, Schubert," I was tracing the nail of my thumb around the corner of the table, "It's likely he died from complications to treatment for syphilis so ... Take from that what you will."

"Modern medicine is a marvel."

"He was also very short," I recalled further, "And he was buried next to his musical hero, Beethoven but they were friends so it's kind of sweet too ..."

"You're my favourite nerd," Harry said fondly.

"Composers are my special subject."

"You're much cuter than Google."

"You're much taller than Schubert," I countered quickly.

Harry laughed finally, and I heard him let out a long breath, "Okay, I've gotta go. You're an angel, thank you!"

"Anytime," I returned quietly, fawning over being called an angel, "Happy to help. Be nice to your sister."

"As soon as the game is over," He hurried, "Okay, bye! Bye, bye!"

Just get the train to Wharton tomorrow. I'll pick you up there

You sure?

Absolutely. Wear something warm.

It's 4C outside, what else would I be wearing?!

Alriiiight be nice. Text me the train you get on x

I had been sleeping terribly.

I couldn’t put any pressure on the left side of my face and every time I rolled over in my sleep, I woke myself up with the pain. I was wide awake and restless most of the night, running over what it was going to be like seeing Harry the following morning.

I was filled with some kind of smile inducing, yet sickening dread at the thought of spending time with his family. I was excited and nervous to see Harry as well; I had missed him over Christmas and it was both reassuring and terrifying to see how much my feelings for him had grown. I wanted to be around him more and it felt strange to have not seen him in nearly a week.

Eventually I gave up on trying to sleep and dragged myself downstairs to share a final breakfast with my parents.

“You look like a wreck,” My dad said as soon as he saw me.

"Thank you," I parroted back, slipping into the seat next to my mum at the kitchen table. I have her a kiss and nodded when dad held a mug up at me from the sink, confirming I wanted coffee.

"You look beautiful, as always," Mum said, not looking up from the newspaper she was buried in.

"My bruise has changed colour overnight," I announced, pointing to my head, "How long is Laykn grounded for again?"

My mum tutted beside me, "Nina, he's upset enough ... Go easy on him."

"Let me see," My dad said, delivery a tea in front of my mum and my coffee in front of where I sat.

I obediently tilted my head up so he could peer over and inspect the left-hand side of my face. He narrowed his eyes slightly to see better, "You're getting old," I said.

"It's healing nicely," He ignored my comment, "You need to have a pillow next to you while you sleep so you can't roll over onto it though."

"Or a man."

"Mum!" I cried, feeling myself burn up as I glared at the side of her face. She seemed to have caught the teasing me about Harry bug from everyone else. She had been my ally over Christmas, but it seemed that now she was joining them.

Her poker face was excellent, "The pillow would help avoiding the man is what I meant."

My dad chuckled, enjoying his wife's sense of humour and my embarrassment. He saved me by telling me about a performance he had in London in a month which would be the next time I would see him. It would mean having him four days in a row as they rehearsed and then performed. I couldn’t wait.

“Are you going to come and stay too, Mum?” “No,” She shook her head easily, “I thought I’d give you some dad time. You should invite Harry to go to the performance with you though.”

“I’ve just emailed you the info,” Dad added, “You could bring more than just Harry if you wanted, just text me how many seats you want.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking a triangle of toast from his plate, “Will you drive me to the station soon?”

The next hour was spent taking a slow breakfast with my parents, and Laykn when he joined us eventually. I noticed his eyes continuously lingering on my forehead, and I ended up having to give him an extra-long hug to assure him that I wasn’t actually mad at him anymore.

The best option for covering the painful gash on my head was to wear my hair down with a beanie, which suited the chilly weather outside perfectly. Although there was no hiding the bruise on top of my cheekbone, and I was dreading Harry or any of his family making a fuss. At least the story could be framed as being somewhat funny.

At the train station my parents both lingered as they always did when I was heading back to London. They hated me leaving, and I was sure that a new wave of worry came over them both every time I left the safety of home where they could both be daily reassured that I was doing well.

Eventually the train pulled in and Dad let out a long breath, “Take it easy with that head of yours for the next few days. Tell Harry we said hello.”

“I’ll try not to bust a stitch when I’m back on the horn!” I prattled playfully, taking a step back and giving my mum one last kiss before waving at them both as I walked to get on the train.

The train to Harry.

Fair warning: I have an injury. Please don’t laugh when you see it.

“What in God’s name happened!”

I watched Harry get out of his car when I came into view, waiting for me as I walked down the ramp from the train station and into the car park. He was dressed casually in jeans and a knitted jumper, missing a vital outer layer that he’d obviously not been wearing while driving in the warmth of the car. I could see his breath as I walked towards him, I couldn’t help the smile and buzzing happiness I felt at seeing him.

He looked so good and I felt everything in me flip and the attention he was giving me.

“It’s worse than it looks,” I said as I approached, feeling a little awkward for having him just watch me walk.

“It looks sore,” Harry commented when I was still a good metre or two away, his eyes sympathetic and kind, “How did it happen … When did it happen?”

“Christmas Day. Laykn threw an apple and my face was in the way.”

His eyebrows raised, “You didn’t tell me! Are you in pain?”

"It's fine, I promise," I said, dropping my bag on the road next to the wheel of his car and walking straight into his chest where his arms had opened for a hug. I was careful to keep my forehead away from touching him, his arms wrapped around me tightly and squeezed. I stayed pressed against him for longer than I might normally have, but it felt wonderful to be seeing him again

“Hi there,” He said, moving his chin down so he could press a kiss to my head, “That’s one gnarly bruise you’ve got there.”

“Yeah,” I puffed out, pulling back and letting my fingers linger on the material of his jumper at his chest for a moment before I looked up at him, “My face is proving to be quite the colour palette.”

“Let me see,” He said quietly, his hands coming up to hold my jaw for a second. He frowned and I saw him notice the cut at my eyebrow and that it wasn’t just the bruise, “Can I move your beanie back?”

“Hmm,” I confirmed, trying not to flinch away as he gently pulled the material back to my hairline.

I watched as he winced at what he saw, "Nina, you've properly got stitches."

"I was brave, it's okay," I said slowly, smiling up at him and loving when his eyes left my injury and returned to meet mine, "And Laykn's guilt has meant he's been a real cherub.”

Harry laughed, and bent down to pick my bag off the ground. He clicked the button for the back of his car and grabbed my hand to drag me along with him. I used my free hand to pull the beanie from my head.

“Wait a minute,” I reached for the bag just as Harry ducking under the automatically opening boot, “I need to get something out.”

As I rummaged through my things, I felt Harry’s palm rest heavily on the crown of my head, “Cute hat hair.”

I stopped what I was doing to turn around and scowl at him, “Hey.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, “You look beautiful, I promise,” His eyes strayed to my bruise, “Even injured with hat hair.”

I turned around, having found what I was looking for, my eyes narrowed at him, “Took you no time at all to go from sympathy to being mean, did it?”

I snapped the hair elastic I had found around my wrist and started tying a headband around my head, watching Harry watch my movements looking a little bewildered by how quickly my hands were working. Once the headband was tied, I pulled up all my hair and was about to secure it all in a ponytail when Harry took the chance to step forward, plant his hands low on my cheeks and kiss me.

My hands stayed caught in my hair for a few seconds and it wasn’t until Harry shuffled forward even further, his lips smiling as I struggled to work out what to do, that I finally let my hair go and wrapped my arms around his neck to welcome him deepening it.

It was brief but quietly intimate, my tummy bubbling with the way it still felt novel and new to be kissing him. When we pulled apart and his hands found their perfect place on my hips, holding me close.

“I’m really excited to have you at home with me,” He said thickly, “I wasn’t going to kiss you here,” Harry’s eyes darted around the carpark like he was remembering himself, “But … fuck … I’d forgotten how far we’ve come. You’re you around me now and it’s the best thing ever.”

I gave him a confused look but ended it by smiling, “I’m terrified of meeting your family, but I want to.”

Harry beamed at that, “Good. We’re not going home yet though … I’ve planned the morning; we’ll go home for lunch. Sound okay?”

I nodded and then gave him a wary glance, “Am I safe to put my hair up now or will I be interrupted again?”

“I can’t say if I’ll be overcome with affection again but …” Harry held up both his hands and stepped back from me, “I’ll try.”

"That's big of you, thank you," I snarked back, screwing up my nose at him when he reached for my shoulders and gently nudged me in the direction of the passenger side.

I investigated the map on the train down and knew that where I got off was still about twenty minutes' drive from Harry's hometown. Getting off where I had saved me going much further south to then change trains and go back up to Holmes Chapel. At first, I thought Harry's instruction to get off where I did was for my benefit, but when we turned off the main road it became evident he'd planned the day that way.

Once we were in the car things were quiet as Harry drove back through the streets, his phone had automatically connected to the Bluetooth of his car and a playlist played at a low volume. Still, there were moments where he couldn’t stop himself from humming along or singing just a phrase.

"I used to think about this," I said aloud, referring back to when I first met Harry.

"Think about what?" He asked, briefly looking my way with a questioning look on his face because he wasn't sure what I was talking about.

The song ended and I smiled at the new one that replaced it, "What music you sing along to when you're not getting paid to.”

I watched Harry's reaction to what I had said, his eyebrows raised slightly and then his features settled into a whimsical smile of sorts, "I'll sing basically anything. It's sort of obnoxious really. Everything I first sang as a kid was from my mum and sister ..." He ran his hand along his jaw as he spoke, "I had a slight rebellion in my teen years, I got quite into the brit pop thing and was sure I was the next Alex Turner or Caleb Followill."

I laughed, "Oh really?"

"Yep," He nodded, laughing at himself too.

"What an undersell," I mused, throwing a compliment his way, "You could out sing Alex Turner any day of the week."

Harry scoffed, "He's a proper rockstar. I don't think you can really put us in the same category."

"Sure I can," I replied easily, "Technically speaking your voice would have a much better range and tone, your control is great. You've got beautiful resonance in your upper register. Vocally I know you're different, but if we're measuring by how far your voices would get you on technicality ... You win."

“You’re very good for my ego,” He replied simply but I noticed there was a blush of pink at the top of his cheekbones.

“I like the Cranberries,” I said, acknowledging the song playing.

Harry took a deep breath and jumped in with the lyrics at the exact place I had said it. I grinned and sat back to let him go for it. His face flushed but he sang beautifully.

“So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand? Were you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you? But I'm in so deep!”

Harry had put all the power in his voice behind the last line and I sucked in a breath myself because he was really really good. He was looking a little too proud of himself for me to go straight to compliments though.

“Alright, alright,” I faked nonchalance, “The whole world knows you can sing.”

“But it’s you I want to impress,” He returned sweetly.

“Your voice is achingly lovely.”

“Alright Little Miss Voice Expert, when were you going to divulge your own singing, hmm?” He’d been switching his attention between watching the narrow country lane we were driving down and my face. It seemed he got the reaction he was expecting, and he laughed at whatever horrified expression was on my face. “Grade 6 ABRSM for Voice …” He quoted my bio from the London Phil’s Christmas program.

“What have you memorised that or something?” I tried dismissing.

“Yes, I have,” Harry confirmed without an inch of playfulness. “But I already had my suspicions.”

“You did?” “When you played piano that first time months ago in the studio and fixed my song … You were humming along, and it was pretty.”

“That was a weird moment,” I provided.

“I want to hear you properly sing.”

“I’m not a singer, Harry,” I started diplomatically, “I can carry a tune maybe—

Harry laughed, “—That’s exactly what someone who can sing would say.”

“I mean it!” I cried, “It’s like learning the piano, doing voice, in composition it’s just as helpful. I learnt voice so I could get into the composition stream at Cambridge, being able to sing parts in tune and at pitch is useful and a tool you use all the time. It wasn’t because I wanted to be a singer.”

Harry seemed to think about that for a moment, “I get that … But I bet you’re still good. Really, I just need you to sit me down and tell me very matter-of-factly everything stupidly impressive about you … Because finding out about them little by little is slowly killing me.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I mean it! When are you going to stop blowing me away?”

“A girl has to have her tricks,” I tried playfully back. My tummy churning at the compliment.

The road before us opened out into a car park, and Harry slowed down to navigate where his car fit. I wanted to ask where we were, but I was also enjoying the fact that Harry was in control. I had no doubt that whatever we were about to see or do would be lovely. The English countryside around us was picturesque and as I popped open my door once we had come to a stop the cool, wet smell filled my body and made me grin.

“I love the smell of England,” I said through a deep breath, meeting Harry around the back of the car where he was pulling a coat through his arms.

“It is great, isn’t it,” He agreed as he slammed the car closed and held out a hand to me, “C’mon.”

We spent the next two hours hand in hand walking through a huge estate that was open for public access. The private laneways were so narrow in some places I walked behind him, and then they would open out to huge expanses of fields and garden. It was amazing, and every time we crossed paths with somebody Harry chirped out a hello like the custom was his favourite thing ever.

The whole time we chatted through and around dozens of topics, from family Christmas traditions, childhood birthday parties, first kisses and our favourite cities abroad. Harry opened up about his job, detailing the way it had changed and evolved over the last decade. There were moments I felt sad for him, but he was an expert at countering something he admitted he found difficult with all the ways his life had turned into a dream come true in other ways.

Something that he had briefly touched on though I found was a bitter pill to swallow. Harry hurried through the idea, which only made me hold onto it more. I wasn’t used to him being uncomfortable talking to me, but it seemed the idea of 'before' and 'after' people in relation to his life before and after fame was something he struggled with. He spoke of it for barely a minute or two, but I got the idea that Harry had had to become guarded around the 'after' people and terrified the 'before' people wouldn't be loyal. I just couldn’t fathom it, how he could possibly be able to go out and build new friendships and meet people with that kind of fear in his head. I was sure if I was Harry, I would have shut myself away from people completely.

He seamlessly linked it with dating though which had me fighting the overwhelming urge to avoid the conversation. I hated the thought of my being someone Harry had or could potentially doubt the intentions of.

“My family are going to love you, don’t worry,” He calmed the biggest fear whirling around my head without me having to voice it, “I promise you. But I was a real idiot when I was younger. I didn’t trust anyone, so I decided it was easier to just let things be surface level where it didn’t matter if it went to shit. When it went to shit,” He corrected sourly.

“Harry,” I squeezed his hand, we stopped walking and were standing at a farm gate looking down across a paddock of lush, greenery.

“I haven’t brought anyone home in … years and years,” He shared slowly, turning to watch my reaction, “I dated in the US mainly, away from my family. It made it easier to keep things casual. A few times I thought I might have found something with potential but generally I was trying too hard because I was lonely or craved the intimacy.”

“What changed?” I asked carefully, trying to gauge how much more he was going to share.

“Lots of small things … I think I grew up mainly,” Harry starts, “I also came to realise that what I actually wanted was a partner and fucking around was never going to be the way to get that. And then I met you.”

He added the last five works with an apprehensive smile towards me.

“Me?”

He nodded, “I met you at exactly the point where I’d decided not to run back to LA when I was craving attention and affection. And I was trying to man up about it and own the fact that I needed to behave differently to get a different outcome … Then along comes Miss Nina Lawrence.”

“You made me sound like a disease or hurricane.”

Harry smiled at my comment but didn’t divert from the topic of conversation, “After that dinner with everyone where I lied about how we met … I went to LA for work and it was so much more obvious to me that it wasn’t the place for me. I was so angry though because you’d challenged how I run my life and forced me to defend the fact that maybe my attitude had changed but really how I dealt with people hadn’t. I liked you so much, but it was tough being called out like that. You hit my pride hard and you’re the first person in a long time I’ve had to work for the trust and affection of. I needed challenging though, and I’m so thankful for that now.”

The whole concept made my skin crawl, I wasn’t comfortable at all with being the catalyst to all that.

“I saw my ex while I was there,” He kept going and the sick feeling inside me only grew but it came from a different place this time, I wasn’t used to it but I knew immediately it was jealousy. Harry hadn’t looked back at me though, so I kept watching the side of his face as he spoke, hating that I might have driven him back to her, “It was sad, really. I saw her and was reminded that I used to be such a romantic. I love the idea of big gestures and spoiling someone, but she never saw that side of me.” “I think you’ve still got it,” I said quietly.

“She was angry at me,” Harry frowned as he looked off over the field, “I can understand why, I had ended it by saying if I was based in LA maybe we’d have had a shot which was never true … ” “She thought you were back for her.”

He looked at me then, his features red from the chill but still utterly captivating, “I think she assumed I was back, and we’d start things again, yeah. By that point I’d done so much internal thinking and already decided that kind of relationship wasn’t going to be me anymore, but I didn’t know how to articulate it without offending her. So, I let her just be angry with me. It’ll mean I won’t see a lot of that group of friends again, but that’s probably a good thing.”

It was tough to hear what had been going on in Harry’s life since we had met that I wasn’t aware of. He had always struck me as grown up and mature, so it was a surprise to hear how much growth he had gone through in the time we had known each other. It showed a strength of character that I adored though, that Harry had humility and awareness enough to realise where he could better himself.

I latched my arm around his waist and ducked under his arm, “I think you’re wonderful.”

“I think you’re wonderful too,” He said, still obviously caught up in his own thoughts. “I feel calm and happy with you … Well, until you’re making out with me against my car, that wasn't very calm.”

I barked out a laugh I hadn’t realised was coming and pushed Harry away from me playfully, “Don’t be crude.”

“It’s not crude, it’s hot,” He argued, snatching my arms and tugging me firmly against his chest. His hands dropped to tuck neatly at my hips and hold me in place. “Neens,” Harry said under his breath, “Where the hell did you come from?”

Harry leant forward slightly, also pulling me closer with his palms and he kissed me calm and unhurried, like we had all the time in the world. Our mouths moved together, and it left a warm feeling in my chest because I’d never felt so adored and valued as I did with Harry this close to me. His thumbs pushed under my shirt and rubbed the skin of my hips in slow, heart-warming movements that had me tingling all over. Harry’s lips pulled into a soft smile against mine as soon as we parted, but he kept himself close enough to kiss my forehead slowly before completely pulling away.

“How is your face feeling?”

I was a little dazed from the kiss and didn’t immediately know what he was talking about, “Huh?”

He grinned happily and then looked at my bruise as he rose his eyebrows, “Your black eye.”

“I don’t have a black eye!”

The house Harry’s mum lived in was a few minutes' drive from the small township.

Harry explained that the house he had grown up in was in the township, but his mum had moved a little further out for more space and privacy. I didn’t ask Harry to elaborate but I got the sense there was a story there.

At the first sign that read ‘Welcome to the Village of Holmes Chapel’ I had leant forward and turned the music down. As we turned into a long driveway, Harry slowed the car to walking pace and put down the windows to let the fresh, cool air hit us both.

The large expanse of garden leading up to the house was beautiful and largely unkempt, giving the property a quintessential English feel. Two rows of large trees lined the driveway and I found myself trying not to think about the situation we were driving into.

"Hey," Harry's hand found my shoulder, I was facing the window and trying to be consumed by nature instead of watching the lovely house we were approaching, "You look like you're about to climb out the window."

I turned back around and let out a long breath, "This is terrifying ... Did you feel like this meeting my family? You seemed so cool."

"I was moderately afraid," He admitted easily, slowly coming to a stop in front of a garage door and turning off the ignition but not moving anywhere, "I knew you were a lovely human though, and it was likely you came from a family of lovely people."

"Your circumstances means it's entirely reasonable for your family to be suspicious of me," I voiced my concern, hating the ugly ball it was in my gut but knowing it was better to tell him.

"Maybe," Harry agreed, not making me feel any better, "But I promise nobody is suspicious of you. My mum is overjoyed I'm finally showing signs of being serious about someone. She's not going to interrogate you, Nina. She just wants to get to know you. Talk about uni, and your family ... Music if you want to. Tell her what a pain I am, you’ll have a lot in common there."

I looked over at him and his hand came over the console to take mine, "You're not a pain." "I'm pleased to hear that."

"I do look like I've been in a street fight though," I pointed to my head. "Not the best first impression."

Harry pushed himself up over the console to hover his head right in front of my face, "You look beautiful. You always look beautiful ... And your head will be a good ice breaker."

"My head looks like it's already broken the ice," I deadpanned.

"C'mon," Harry rolled his eyes at me and cracked open his door, nodding to mine for me to do the same, "In five minutes time you'll have met everyone and be feeling a thousand times better."

I followed Harry's instruction and slid out of the front seat, my sneakers landing on the pebbled drive and I found myself finally taking in the house. It was a beautiful red brick double story home with lots of windows with white finishings. The gardens were simple and just as I was about to head towards the front door Harry called my name.

"This way," He held out a palm to me, my overnight bag in his other hand. "That ice breaker comment was very funny, by the way," Harry said slowly, pressing a kiss to my cheek just before we started walking.

"Thank you," I swallowed, well into panicking about the upcoming introductions.

Harry led me around the side of the house close to the garage which opened up onto a lovely courtyard area with a table and wicker lounges. There were newspapers and some tea settings on the table telling me it was obviously an outdoor space that was used frequently, even in this bitter weather, the sun had the family outside.

"It's not the house I grew up in, but it's home," Harry said, watching me take it all in as he led me to a glass door that connected to a long wall of windows that went down the length of the back of the house. The view from all the downstairs room would have been the long garden going back onto the fields in the distance. It felt like a little haven.

“Mum?” Harry said loudly as he dropped my hand to could open the door, guiding me in and pointing at a wire basket behind the door toppled full of shoes. "Make yourself comfortable," He instructed me, slipping off his boots and tossing them into the basket as I did the same a little slower. I was wearing stripy, purple socks and I glued my eyes to them, feeling completely stupid of wearing them today.

“Kitchen,” A lovely, melodic voice rang out.

We were in a small laundry room and Harry reached out to gently pinch my elbow, and gave me a wonderful smile when I met his gaze, "You good?"

I just nodded and followed behind him as he walked out of the room down a short hallway that opened out onto a large kitchen with all the charm of a country house.

"Hey, Mum," Harry said, nearly getting knocked over when another body quickly emerged from another doorway and collided with him clumsily, "Shit."

"Language!" Two voices mimicked at once, and I had no idea where to look because it was all happening at once.

The guy who had walked into Harry wasn't quite as tall as Harry, he looked to be a few years older though and I assumed he was Gemma's boyfriend, Ned. He had a tea towel draped over his shoulder and was dressed comfortably in sweats. I could see Harry's sister sitting at a long breakfast counter, taking up the stool closest to the wall where she was working on a laptop plugged into the wall. Harry's mother was beaming from the middle of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel and straightening out her shirt as she came towards Harry and I.

I squeezed my fingers together and pressed them at my sides, not sure who to watch.

“Hello, you two! I was elbow deep in potato peels, sorry for the cold hands," She said, her smile focused on me, "Nina, it's wonderful to have you in our home! Welcome, lunch isn't far off."

"Thank you for having me," I said politely as she approached, "It's beautiful here."

I was surprised by how she immediately radiated warm and stepped right up to give me a friendly hug. When she stepped away from me she looked to Harry and I knew exactly where he got his bright smile from.

"Mum, this is Nina," Harry told her, grinning back at his Mum in what I hoped was boyish charm. "Nina, this is my Mum, Anne ... And this is Ned and you've met Gem before," he waved his hand at Ned who was leaning against the counter patiently, and then Harry pointed to his sister.

"Hello," I said to them both.

Ned stepped forward and extended a friendly hand to me after wiping it on the tea towel over his shoulder. “Lovely to meet you, Nina."

“You too,” I took a deep breath after shaking his hand, still feeling as though all eyes were on me.

"Come and sit," Gemma said to me from her spot, she shut the laptop and moved a few seats to the middle of the counter. "Harry, make Nina a tea, will you?"

I instantly felt more comfortable as I felt all the attention in the room suddenly shift off me and onto other things. Harry whined at his sister and insisted he was just about to offer me a drink, Ned made his way over to the sink where he took over from whatever Anne had been doing and Anne told Harry she'd love a brew if he was offering which had him again defending the fact he was just about to offer to make for everyone. Anne disappeared into a walk-in pantry and emerged with a loaf of bread and I moved around to where Gemma was sitting.

I smiled at her, feeling as though our first introduction at Harry's house months ago really hadn't been sufficient but I was thankful for her not making a fuss out of me.

"Train okay?" She asked, putting her phone face down in front of her and giving me her full attention.

"Yeah," I kept up the smile, "Staring out the window ends up being quite soothing."

Gemma nodded, "My arse always goes numb though. That's quite a bruise you've got there," Her eyes went to my cheek and to the stitches above my eyebrow.

"Oh," I blushed, having forgotten about it despite having just voiced to Harry in the car how ridiculous I must have looked. "Yeah, my brother threw an apple and my face got in the way."

Gemma winced, "Brothers suck sometimes."

"Hey!" Harry called from the kettle, halting whatever he had been talking to Ned about, "Don't sully my name, please."

"I'm sure you've got the pain under control, love," Anne interrupted the siblings before they could start squabbling, she was arranging the slices of bread in a basket, "But let me know if I can get you anything to help."

"I will, thank you."

"We've got a roast for lunch, Nina, and croissant bread and butter pudding," Ned said from the sink, seeming very comfortable in Anne's kitchen. “I hope you're hungry.”

“We’ve bagsied the leftovers,” Gemma declared just as Harry was opening his mouth.

“Damn it,” He muttered, placing a tea in front of me and coming around to sit on my other side, “Maybe we could make—”

“I’m going to do some gingerbread this afternoon for you and Nina to take,” Anne soothed.

“Brilliant,” Harry nodded seriously, frowning at something on Gemma’s phone that she had just passed his way.

When he sat Harry perched right on the edge of the bar stool, hooking his left foot on the step of it and balancing the other on the ground as only his height would allow. He swivelled though, his legs wide enough that when he lent his elbow on the counter near my body it felt like he was surrounding me. His fingers tapped on my arm lightly as he read to himself.

I took a sip of my tea and watched Ned and Anne wordlessly work together in the kitchen. It was surprisingly comforting to see, he had obviously managed to assimilate into the Styles trio. They were putting everything together and getting ready to serve lunch. I wanted to offer to help but Harry had me trapped and I didn’t know how to insert myself into the situation.

“I say it’s bullshit,” He said easily, handing the phone back to his sister.

"Language," Anne said lowly, completely ignored by her children. I was endeared by the fact she told them off for swearing at home.

“Send a text!” Gemma declared, “Find out!”

“Gem, I don’t know anyone there,” Harry groaned, shaking his hair out and then rearranging it roughly with his fingers.

“I bet you could find someone,” She fought back.

“Love, let the Love Island thing go,” Ned called gently, meeting my eye and rolling his eyes, “They’ve been going back and forth all week, Gemma’s addicted to the stupid show and not happy with next season’s casting decisions.”

I appreciated that Ned had twice now made an effort to include me when it was clear to him I wasn’t yet.

“Why would they bring back someone from season one? It’s ludicrous!”

“Because they get this reaction out of people,” Harry replied, settling his palm on my hip and taking a long drag of his tea. I hoped nobody could see where he was touching me, “What are we going to do for dinner, Mum?” He changed the subject.

“We haven’t even had lunch yet,” Anne tutted.

“I’ll get in trouble if I ask how long until lunch though,” He returned cheekily, all the evidence of him having regularly been scolded for that particular enquiry in the past.

“Nina, how was your Christmas, sweetheart?” Anne asked me, ignoring her son, “Does your family do something big?”

I picked ran my fingers up and down the side of my mug, knowing this was the point where Harry’s family all got to know me and worrying I wouldn’t live up to whatever they had told them, “A little … My family does a lot together generally. Well, my mum’s family anyway. She’s a twin so … So I’m pretty close with my cousins. We had family lunch and dinner, normal for us really. But lovely because everyone’s on their best behaviour. Except my brother obviously,” I added.

“We did that when these two were smaller,” Anne provided, “Now the cousins have children but on Christmas day it’s still this one all the adults are telling not to eat too much,” She nodded her head towards Harry who beamed at his alleged crime.

“And he’s still the one you’ve got to watch like a hawk during games,” Gemma added, “He always finds a way to cheat.”

Harry pinched my side at that, smirking and holding his eyebrows up but not looking directly down at me, trying to look inconspicuous. No doubt he was sending me secret brain messages not to give away the fact he’d called me for the answer to a question.

“Somehow,” I said to his sister, “I’d believe that.”

“How can I help?” I asked Anne later, standing in the middle of her kitchen as she collected items from the pantry and gathered them all on the bench.

Gemma and Ned had left a short while ago to return to London for work, so it was just Harry and I with his mum. He had disappeared after helping clear up after lunch, he kissed my head as he left the kitchen citing the need for a shower and a nap.

“Go relax with Harry, love,” Anne insisted. “He’ll sleep through until Easter if you don’t get him up to do something with you now.”

“He needs to rest,” I replied softly, “Are you making gingerbread?”

“Yes,” I could hear the smile in his mother’s voice, “I wouldn’t normally make it, but it’s Harry and Gemma’s favourite at Christmas time and I’m a sucker when they’re both about to leave me for the big city again.”

“My mum gets a little teary every time I leave.”

“Trust me, it only gets harder as your children grow up,” Anne started handing things to me, and I relaxed into the knowledge she was going to let me help, “You think once they’re adults you won’t miss them so much but really it’s worse because they’ve turned into wonderful adults you want to spend time with!”

She was pointing out where a few bits were in the kitchen were and passed over a recipe book cracked open on the 'Christmas Cookies' page.

“Harry told me you’re the only girl in your family,” she said, cutting up butter and keeping an eye on what I was doing measuring out flour.

“That’s right,” I confirmed, “I learnt early if you can’t win crying usually gets you at least most of the attention when things go pear shaped.”

Anne’s laughter floated around the kitchen, “I think the opposite was true for Harry. He’s relented to the tears of two women for most of his life.”

“I think he’s better for it,” I said pleasantly, I smiled at her, “How long have you lived in this house?”

“Coming up on six years,” Anne answered.

“It’s beautiful,” I mumbled, struggling with the ginger jar, “I can see why Harry loves it so much.”

"If I ever tried to leave I'm sure Harry would refuse to let sell it,” She started creaming the butter and sugar together looking like an expert, “He loved this house from the minute he found it for me.”

“He found it for you? Sorry,” I added quickly, suddenly remembering my manners, “I don’t ... It sounds like I’m fishing. I’m not ... Sorry,” I took in a deep breath, “How would you like this sliced?”

My confidence with Harry’s mother completely disintegrate into thin air, as I cursed myself more for what I had asked, how it might have been misconstrued. Lunch with Gemma and Ned had ended up being completely lovely, and by the end of it I felt my insides relax and I was genuinely enjoying the company. Harry came alive in front of his family in a way I hadn’t seen before and I loved it. But it was still a similar Harry that I found myself getting when we were alone, and I found it only made me trust him more.

“Crushed please,” Anne instructed, nodding at the fresh ginger in front of me, “And yes, Harry found this house for me. And bought it for me ... He’s a very generous young man. He works very hard as well, I’m proud of him.”

“You should be!” I said quickly.

"Recently he's been spending more time in London, which is nice. I'd hazard you've been a factor in that," She added carefully as an afterthought.

My head snapped up to her, not seeing any of the displeasure or iciness I had expected, in fact, she was looking at me with a soft, kind look on her face as though she knew exactly what I was thinking to myself. As thought she could see exactly where I thought I had stumbled and she was trying to reassure me.

I cleared my throat and tried to push down the embarrassment at having overstepped, "Harry's told me a little about how he's not ... Dated at home for a while."

"At times over the last few years the negative aspects of Harry's job and the fame have been more pronounced and he’s maybe struggled to ..." Anne thought better of whatever she was going to say, "His coping mechanism has been to get on a plane and leave. I don't think he like us to see when he's struggling ... He goes away to blow off a bit of steam. A mother alway knows though," She gave me a knowing smile.

"He always strikes me as someone very thoughtful and put together," I furrowed my brows, thinking back over the time I had known Harry and now marrying together what he had told me himself and what his mother was adding from her point of view.

It all seemed to come together and make sense. When he was overwhelmed Harry used his resources to do a very millennial thing; he'd run away to a different country for a change of pace.

"My son is both of those things, Nina," Anne pulled me from my thoughts, she was watching me with a thoughtful expression of her own, "And he's very fond of you, I'm so happy you're here. When he first mentioned you months ago Harry said you were kind-hearted and smart, and he was completely blow away by you. Mind you, I gave him a bit of an earful because by that point he'd only just asked for your phone number and despite all he'd said about you and how he'd said it my son still hadn't asked you on a date,” She rolled her eyes fondly, “I’d like to think I gave him a little push in the right direction."

His mother thought I was the right direction. I felt my shoulders relax somewhat.

“I really like him,” I said lamely, not knowing how to further express it.

“I’m just glad to be spending time with the reason for Harry being happy in London again. You make him happy and from an outsider's point of view—an outsider who knows what genuine happiness looks like on Harry—he truly is with you. And I’m not sure he would admit this,” She continued, “But I think he forgot about the joy his job used to bring him. It can all became a burden, and rightfully so in most cases. But you’ve reminded him that real life can be an adventure worth the pain as well. Just not the same pain as his career. So, don’t you worry about asking me questions about my son, I’ll tell you whatever you’d like to know.”

I smiled, seeing Harry got his raw honesty and fearlessness when it came to speaking his mind from his mother, “Does he ever stop trying to make the people around him happy?”

“No,” She laughed, “And I’m sorry for any and all of the horrible jokes he’s tried on you. Thank you for not holding them against him.”

“They’re charming,” I said sweetly, “His silliness is captivating. Especially when … That’s something I need.”

It was overwhelming to think after half a day I could be having a conversation like this with his mother, but the thought then occurred to me that knowing Harry’s kindness and tact with people I really shouldn’t have been surprised at all.

We worked in pleasant conversation for another little while, Anne telling me about the young boy Harry used to be, telling me more about what it was like for her as a mother when his career first started taking off. Parts of it made me understand how my own parents must have felt at different points of my life, being so incredibly proud and excited for your child but also worrying the wrong people would be coming into their life and offer alternate guidance to what you had raised them on. She seemed to understand Harry’s story might have parallels to my own, and when I looked a little taken aback by her having such background on me she simple said Harry had brought home the program from my performance to show her.

“I should have done more to prevent him from getting his hands on that,” I cried.

“He’s proud,” She excused, “I like seeing him like this. It’s nice seeing him fawn over someone else for a change.”

Her comment was pointed, but not at me. I wondered who Anne might have seen come and go in her son’s life in the last ten years, and all the times she might have questioned how genuine some of the relationships were.

“When you’re next in London you’ll have to come to a performance,” I said without thinking, “And Gemma and Ned.”

Anne beamed at that, “Oh sweetheart, I’d love to.”

"It's not everyone's cup of tea," I offered diplomatically, knowing classical music wasn't something a lot of the population was interested in.

"Oh, no," Anne shook her head, "Gemma will love it and I'll go to anything with live music, it's all wonderful. Harry raved about it all Christmas."

Just as she spoke his name Harry appeared from the doorway that opened to the staircase to the upper floor. He had changed into a pair of tracksuit pants but kept his knitted jumper, his hair stood out in all directions and his face was puffy from sleep.

"Well, good morning," Anne sang is way as Harry approached her and hung his arm over her shoulder.

"These look good," He eyed the counter that was covered in cooling cookies, he seemed to consider his options before reaching for one and getting it to his mouth as quickly as he could. Probably before he could be told off for helping himself. "Oh yum," He mumbled through chewing, "Neens, come taste," Harry held the cookie out in front of him and stepped away from Anne who was watching him with a happy look on her face.

"I've already—

"—No," He shook his head at me and reached out for my arm as soon as he was close enough, "This specific one, I'm telling you. This one is the best."

Before I could argue he'd pressed the biscuit right up to my mouth and was looking down at me in delight as I struggled through avoiding taking a bite. Eventually I relented, the delicious gingerbread melting over my tongue.

"It's good," I said, becoming more comfortable with Harry being affectionate in front of Anne. "Too bad you didn't help make them so have no claim in taking them home."

"Ha," He laughed, “That’s not the rules at all.”

‘It’s an amendment I’m willing to consider,” Anne hummed conspiratorially.

“I’m ending this evil alliance right now,” Harry took my hand and started tugging me across the room, “I’ve got something to show Nina …. Away from you, Mum!”

I was laughing as Harry kept pulling me with him, out of the kitchen and then up the stairs. His mother’s laugh carried with us most of the way. I started taking in the upstairs rooms he was leading me passed. The bedrooms were all upstairs, except the master which made up the second half of the bottom floor with the kitchen and living areas.

Harry reached a door at the end of the hallway and turned around to face me, pushing it open with his backside, “I’ve got something for you.”

He was looking unsure and bashful, my focus was split between trying to figure out what he was nervous about and investigating the room that was opening up behind him.

Harry’s room at his mother’s house wasn’t like his bedroom in London. The London room was sparsely decorated and felt grown up and clean. This room had smatterings of his childhood and it was obvious the awards absent from his own home were all displayed here. My eyes ran along the shelf on the wall, trophies lining the length of the wall with photo frames and smaller plaques sitting up also. I could see BRITs and MTV awards and then a whole bunch of others I didn’t recognise.

“Holy shit, Harry …”

“Over here,” He called, when I turned he was sitting on the end of the haphazardly made bed. He’d clearly had quite the nap. “Merry Christmas.”

He was holding out a small red box and an envelope. My heart started beating in my ears at the thought of Harry buying something for me.

“Wait,” I looked around the room, “Where’s my bag? I’ve got something for you as well.”

Harry nodded to an armchair by the window, my bag sitting untouched atop a decorative pillow, when I pulled out the wrapped gift he frowned at it in my hards, “That doesn’t look like an M&S voucher.”

I stood between his legs, as close as I could without making it impractical, “Merry Christmas,” I said, putting the present on his thigh as I carefully took the small parcel he was still holding out for me. I waited for Harry to move, not feeling comfortable opening his gift if he wasn’t going to do the same. “Open it,” I urged, watching as he picked it up and put it next to himself on the bed.

“I want to watch you open yours first,” He said quietly, his eyes flicking down to my hands for a moment before he smiled at me. “I’ll open mine in a minute, you go first.”

“Alright,” I started quietly, finally looking down at what he had given me properly. My eyebrows drew together immediately at the cursive across the small red jewellery box I was holding, “Cartier … Harry!”

“Please, open it, Nina.”

I watched him silently for a moment, my thoughts flying with the realisation that Harry was about to gift me some very expensive jewellery. His face was impossible to read, and the only thing I could gather was that he wasn’t going to back down, so I carefully cracked the case open and bit my lip at the gorgeous necklace cradled within.

There was a fine white gold chain set with a small, but perfectly cut diamond set delicately on a small loop. It was simple, and understated, and I adored it immediately. It was definitely something I would wear, but I swallowed thickly thinking about what the cost for something so beautiful would be.

“Harry—

“—Please, Nina,” He anticipated my protesting, “Accept it, I loved getting it for you.”

“It’s … It’s beautiful, I … I don’t know what to say. Nobody’s every given me something like this before, ” I said quietly, watching it as if it was about to disappear. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry let out a long breath, his fingers interrupting my view to carefully take the box from me, “Let’s put it on you, mmm?”

“No,” I stopped his hands with my own, “I want to look at it a bit more …”

His laugh momentarily made the tips of my hair dance, then his lips came forward to press against my forehead, “Open the envelope as well please.”

I let him take the box from me and I turned my focus to the envelope I had tucked between my knees. Out came a small square card, a reindeer with a fluffy nose was on the front and it very simply said ‘Seasons Greetings’. I opened it and a hand drawn picture sat loosely enclosed.

‘Inaugural New York City Trip - This voucher entitles Nina Lawrence to a trip to New York with Harry. This voucher is valid for six months from the issuing date and cannot be exchanged for cash.’

“What on earth …”

“I want to make you cry of happiness on another continent,” Harry cleared his throat like he was unsure of his next words, “Come with me to New York and we can go crazy on Broadway shows and carbs.”

I looked up at him and the expression on Harry’s face was so sincere with an underlying happiness that I felt tears come to my eyes immediately, “Are you insane? I got you a fucking coffee table book and a literal M&S voucher!”

He must have seen what I was about to do because before I could reach down to snatch back my gift to him, Harry’s hand had shot out to keep it where it was, “No,” He said, “This is mine now.” “It’s bloody not!” “Nina,” Harry said calmly, threading his arm around my waste and holding me against his chest, “Look at me.”

I took a breath and did as he said, a few tears leaking as I struggled to come to terms with what was happening, “You’re insane,” I told him quietly.

“You keep saying that,” He smiled up at me, my chin right at his eye line from him sitting in front of me, “Let me dote, please?”

I moved my hands up to his hairline and pushed his head back slowly, I could see trying to explain everything to me was hard for him. My fingers stilled and I took in his features without the distraction of his hair, my stomach tightened with attraction.

“Your mum told me you were generous,” I mused, “New York sounds amazing. I haven’t been since I was a kid.”

Harry’s smile lit up his face straight away, “I can’t wait to show it to you.”

I eased myself forward to kiss him then, feeling Harry lock his arms in around my back to hold me close. Being momentarily taller than him meant I could lead although I didn’t have it in me to tease him. I opened my mouth to him almost straight away, feeling his tongue deliciously run along my bottom lip before he drew open further. Our noses bumped once, then twice and on the third time Harry’s laugh broke the kiss.

“Hey,” I whined.

“You’re bad at leading,” He breathed out a laugh, taking my face between his hands and pressing a chase kiss to my lips.

“No, I’m not! It’s a weird angle! Your nose is too big.” Harry laughed louder, slipping his linked arms down over my arse to loop just at the top go my thighs, “No need to be rude about my nose. You’re just not used to being on top.” “Excuse me.” I cried, “I don’t think you can say you’re privy to that kind of information on me.”

He cackled even more and his joy radiated through me, “I can’t wait to be enlightened.”

#fic: someday someday #1dff #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fic #hina #please let me know what you think #this is 12k words!#love please people

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