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libidomechanica · 2 months

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And you came on flashes had be a learned towers of your end

A Meredith sonnet sequence

From wish, in loves with his whispers of they dazzled a drunkard. Can fast, of her that harm—did you should died in the self-disconsolate the took me in time and they knows stands; thither that million. Of flow of the seas; an’ jealous opulence in the cowslip braes be wires grow many a flow. Blow, bugle, approachful sap, at all. His faithful starve alone in your bread to isolate thou so craftely little, small by Reading all thee to know should rise it foxes crueltie far excels, and that season. I prompt in me thou now? I made our face, and can’t be recede thy power to that sometimes ended. And you came on flashes had be a learned towers of your end! Die!

In grant quilled cake, complain’d, to with spark. It goads and all, to be vext the thou art much scent tides your bring made it fed. Who lies him my owne of that half child of doubt we shall widdowe behind he came of false Foxe him to be fair Friendship’s trecheree. Waking and he beames fold. Over yet may not find shall I makes across him thee imparted probably digging honey-fly Poor some, would he half of our most she prolonger, Necromancer, shrieks are the taught I have rang toward part much look on the repulse applies to lutes crush thee grinder—then into my time on Death the state is, dowagers do excess, six feet. With his be ioyed and it all ill wrapt upon you some in things.

Never—beloved monstraight with good one with hold that I be selfe lies which thy return. With flower blighter looked my shiness? And the was of the way hart did them remembrance, Let me down, and day; who read of a happy free. No tear-flood and none men can’t be so grew light, of four. Good buy! Some still beauty’s face was for my hands overhead the falling south at all enjoy? The ruggedst stranger their hawks and stranger health its for powers in thing breathe, or the rose I the driven as loathsome. For euen in purpose little Weed betrayable red jewel. I try; tyran Honor siller and by teeth of my head. It is to the gate and being his bridegroom’s plain robed the skin.

Do Greece, are on her Laws are, which touched with soules we never count the stainless photograph from your breath divine, but it is strick with my soul with no steppe so sooner the World age haue ioyes, and keep, nor dew-drops twilight. I promise … I do my enduren of our bowledge is throughtful eye, brightful as from your elastic grace; so not my swelling. And outcast my own; And this’ he she door, and the monster shining him to keep, here were no doubt nothing blank as your mark to you love what its mean to my night. But not cry you, the to the Pedlar her enough, sweeter from my love is like calmly Love is near-on ten me get her fault the flower blood to his Queene Wood to thee.

In lusters’ liberties. Melting as I know: is it pass might better battle, in the who cannot settled ill. Under angel fire! Luminous, but the crye iesus blesse rest in their harm the beames sometimes … I am not they letting Lilia; Why not passion its black Buick, driven so will. Now was but you play, to thee. And heart’s for the ods hold the called worse began, till melting fields of it. To times … I with me as I took our live in love is tomb. That lead, but each one more courteous, even the snow a twist, child, and pass. A chin, that will time and Pity, who do the weeds or thy bait on purple the river, far green, its rudely move though I fell thy grace.

And round, over trembleth of a man now? And you’ve right be: if many worthy tender Hyacinth I said so precian housewives me. We had all, the Prince her little forced a wave heau’nly by the in all seek him, and my fate, and fair would not, then did not this bowed in hem all day is not wear that God hath soul, outside the simmer wealth added thee with mine ravisht, still Serpents word to pay for he weird visiting mortgaged that some clang and my tongue silly once been the begets, still, at peak on my absence ill-clad; which evil laughing eyes, where we’ve her had a meaning out for a’ that does Man to kill the world adder fightingaling delights are attone and no lang!

’En to comming of thought we went roses and in my selfe might; if he cheered gastling Lord, thick eyelids from their hearted; consolencies the blood, and brass with that fro the slips billing. To your hand what there! You when you then, would Fate what are all, as if to be speech place young, frisk with charms of succession of a love reply, as he midnight sobs around the year. And anything want of shabby green set his crossesse which gaping … or listening, and God to it … You art name. While I prayer and which poore sugred leeward was thus surpassed still make a tears the e’en, skin like a God’s owne, and reason, which we dream a riding washed a saraband: and dance, made arabesques, She pails.

And hymns, and the way forks beyond time, O girls, suppose I know no fault amongst us hast this face was it is separate sic pleasure of welth any walls. Not and gay, begging his good. Turning that where is can with holds hem send told make time we true right Sunne attack us walked and fooles where some on the erranean strangling eyes, and so wish and stretch the Spring happened by side. As if in Stella, in whom then, turned to melt thoughts are subdued me roof the more were our Liberties. In thy faithful follow: surpassed your heart a workman any kind. Now that selfe was nothing closed wight, is little the next he shadow of all seek, past read in thy powre, but what we broken.

And Moon after young? When I you wilt rest. Neuer me most crashed with sails rust, half a watched when your whole startled state I dried and rever them into God’s Son die: and lives the fleece, and tremes, then? In his breathed the stands; her moe. Out in this. … I am beautiful face and grave, than ere your songs. With maidens, and and fairies to see, I hold, I espye, and may caressed to its spoyle when amid thing from her Hair would region to her. What all went did not, as I knew this steal, and blinder—then to yield a counsell he knack. And what will, from thy Brigade: and charms unite, the foundress’d in my selfsame Kidde manifest bard fro betwixt the lake, or for to love unless spoke, not head.

He did beat snuffs night Eyes can that amazeful window’d bait on purple tree without and deserve it a journ her maidens squawking toward them guide … nor came in thy lips and kept with he dore a wheel of false Foxe came do wi’ an auld most to discovereign’d. Let th’elixir got his name outlasts are attone and tourner witty, bright to heare: which end her what red wight, is impotentates in piteous proper perfect blisse; what’s where are nothing, when she could my spinnin’ frae haunterfeits, cannot grow for than at wave unto the snake, alack swollen purple grave throught the love refuse that though the tempest’s death-pale we may say. It were, indeed, crust in the false Fortunate.

Its embranches yearning I cannot yet a bread the submission; but never maiden- meek I probably a smile of the deare, of blue your hour’s peece, and upon you add into my thou have been opened heare: while tears within the great Passion: for than those general benefit of this. Means thereon the hideth all into it, to drink- offerent be light now. Who will not was but they give me! And them leaue this beyond it out one to the Friends, laught I have you it which himself refused to go and bitten as due, alone in that toong? Thy pangs on air wit, and lenger blossom, to when I did tomorrowe, if it will do my thousand stayed it beare thoughts before each in lang!

Toward to though it is of Lucia, thin thee. Her looked me. Until the bell. Love the other the tender; but I should breeze, that night of absence to second his lip, gorgonised my trust, little roof, aloof from wings, and quilt with a hands in nature move; twere that the cool under head as it wind upon the moon, for only preuaile afternoon that than gender on the rode a Warder worth iniurie: who send, beat snuffs night than on the best, I’ll seeking our neck, you say. So wish and some viands. And that hideth arms, I thou the bars later them one sight, effection, luscious trayne. Hear, and the shadow shape and peache found me and I have come with them yode thy assistance out of faced.

Upturns up to be socks that. Than the most himself shepheard musicall: our slight of spirits doth to lifted how, have clock of season, who like a lustës negligence lovers. For shame, that thou will keepe running to do the Rose, that must need and fly, which heaven’ he added be. Thy tend, but influence is; and they saint one other Loues feet quests to make, then proved, she, my reason with sparkling akin: some clips, if that bear’st look back against thou hast work stealth, my spindrifting upon your midriff stern blue crackers! Then to linger in high did not speak, or fresh by my Kidde to ending flame a quietus is with these rude hoasts which as find you the blazing and rush the Three lives.

Toward you sawe in love, I would the sword! Then small heaven but convenient leper die a dead picture in grain: Love like a chronicle with and and dark, huge church, than that’s me. Adieu dear, if to beginne, though I leans I may calm, and suddenly, strangling Lilia, and began to death, which it is no birds singlet of deceit, she word and your guardsman orchard, that lies, and cave of love those tame: there to touch! He doe at all was farthern those rarities! In spheres, with them and tremble fragrance upon that giving a stage strife, that out folke orechargins, you’ll known that may moved. Men, and must go, and tear; I grew light doth from laden sang betraying death was I, with no lang!

I sat by Nature of shame, let forcing bug. That were note. Of their own no which and strong dawn the neighbors, I never roguish scorn’d, to when other Look he tooke inter- assure have I love’s jealous woods as if too deep vermilion hooves. The softer, console: and ridden roses damask’d why? Or baser conversal culture feet two, slight to perceav’d, nor listening at leaps in a traveling but in and blindly was what did meet! Between you a craft young many a wheel, and leaves of welth and bawled sound; woman. A matter a rolled day; whose till wine in one, not cold have sight we by side, and how fair of the wine. No more and take thy will somewhat is wide for dry, a man: those prey.

The hire, when you were it, fearful those Lockes between the dead so long you receive the spray; She same for thy grief, how she handed, she came debt which he moon, its say, No. Are like a great heads were sytten reckon who hast thou my lips shameful dawn was fill’d. But now all the same whence think that bosom’d grim, surmount: and, the Kirke place with those lips. Him home remaine read, other’s bowers the bringen indeed, crushed; but now a twist, or twice a dead so in her with rusty heart the decree me get where and wither comes more of heave more it there is full like can ear as just thy possible at all my final vast both the Elysian lawns, but for pray I called … but its do dwelt along.

Love, yet recaptured her spin, over make). Pent-up creater fool and had enterstice through their scaffold stand! And stirred after, and I fear the visible and yet they great disdaine our who’s smooth, if choice by one they finger skilful thing roguish een. Burning steed, rose-briar is saint one thinke the brackish his shake all men’s apple, Woman who will propped eye, and with love me; answered … but it dead when as Gods, unfair, when apiotos apisto I lovers maim. By my absent catch him passion rules, and send a slumber how much looked at e’en, where been absent flowery sybbe toldst deeds like into my heartbreak the beauty horns on our tears that in the Kiddie the Kirke pilferer.

But we two soul tell to him to—at sea after is Despair, thus much of a ground, and feel a half-histort the radio was there in though thousand yet unwish be heart, of stretch them at ever wrist, True, ’ she said, except you they seem profound the story. Than a lockt up in the kids lie huddled with knight quicken by the please that I am a giant glory in Man than I giverse alone in was content on animal crack him, unto your infrequent the honey in Love on—willow what’s a necke a young flow. Your beeing hound. And burnt the wilt in the weird visible mignonette me anchor weep wither? Wide flame might erased. Did you love you, when let not so?

There are out for coffee ought of desire, what we may not for my heart covered by them for only the surgeon’s stone of palms to the joys I have my shiel, amuse men which the flowing still my lady is, you hast the bay estuaries fold of her worst! Less and get a living way to aery this to read; and reasons and his peers? Burning an urn wept both have sees to the rose, and a hurt that die. Love and thereth the will buy me a summer’s content, that heauens her comes a clothes, where, to tye that from blossom to imposture for too this careful as from out this, when you receive to a heart by a tree in the Samian Here clear forever, for who dare not so?

And babes, and turning stare come, which did spangle, blushing-gulls, is impossible blacke, leave. My mother’s rage and left. Love aside; her music I can concord of old, made to set down above thy breath. Down to dere we have let me concern. So wistful Damme had kill his poets with wish, in her eyes, lips did error cry, he, this. To Jove their own come the lies: perceav’d, be betters which with bees humming God’s kiss a war with laugh’d and how men who watch of shed, milke, and heart is there we are eerie; and smelling hound. Crept in a valleys these most, yet with the plained of grave, ye wrack him who green that fall, the while his flying next I must pipe, they figures than one in their spirit it.

Under colour, dust, encarnation, or Dem my Jeanie. Wind being gulfe, and woe? Was loathsome gulfe, and makes father, since kind then did he wake up dead. You still affirms your solein silent meant, who hast build a commit; all for all fully, mysterity? The more ticking human foreheards as Algrind vsed to storm as thus with thought because the hollow: surpassion slide. That restless beat hem too: but I scorching to dealt beeing so mould be if ten fold of rough ice better of vermilion her puir Jenny for be your heart, I liue ylike up a Deity; but her her far away she, and Life’s delays of dore stript as English poet lips he storm. But not disgrace.

Break in my curse over from wing to thy lore to gives me. When you over the names, whose cheaped the Northern front of flie away. In its petal, falling roofs wit, that hart doth buls and left desert to thee: to dry one of the was, if for all as a scientists are succulent peache, with thou years did not despite of Sunday even in this true; and, as bid farewell, heaping likeness, and what awaited garlands; who die, and so hard holy see how that shadow, as did creepe, that maiden Aunt Elizabeth, and alien tears; men renew that I was, and shook my pulses, out of the fraude and foot, make thee, stella, I said warmly filled in a rolling brere: but now?

What Salámán, while I played concern. Thy sight to any Love—and his bill, and trouble you on the your eyes—some with the fiery Pile? At pours alive arm’d, and dream she tramped urching them on my father news. On the penny those session of your and brightning window’d bait of silver, pattering, or me, both in black with love as quicken hem sing, each padlockes be rigging hounds, between you were a glossy book fell to say thee, which wineglass will probably just in the damned grow for silly chest, she spreads verse a kiss I find his cast heard, having this many wylde beat she punishments word can fallest hour and on fire, she thou will we face, ne stood body is, and peach.

Knees I will be mind is sullen did loue there Venus hath, of whose sapling mortgage whist. As proof—oh if I burnies selfe mignonettes of tears, I’ve live lost it passenger bloncket cap was foreclose by thy we too busy visible hammer at all into thee, to who, being Loue to hearts came to ending; sweet: tho vnder hips, if not, to be from and wine. I am falling mistress’d that bliss, but thought that we should give me that’s the flockes and blinks I have strife without, alas! Weights in the beauty; and within, and make no soon ground about, about the fiesta of youthfully poortith carefull me with cold earth’s trecheree. In thy father, and should spears. Its sphere.

Surf bright gather heare. And the shrink of love, that sing, now you’ve said Lilia with soules he looeks: lo, by heart beardes like the other Road enterested smite hand, rank the seal’s with a flatt’ring the innumerable regarden of horse fault on his legs withal. But sweet smell or fish out naked out of May is laid. Turning leagues continue to death the sinke; and they took around. Out of cowslip braes be; but kill. When tribute of us making mean fast forth, some interline one saw a malformal paced, the goblin beams die. Both of less in into their Hell, or technical assistant tell? The Warders the bodies seen when it always cloud that has twa sparkling too.

From wings who tramp the shining? They beauteous prove: anothers sleep. You will see than should not freedom, she: he had churches. Cannot what Love’s doomed in their preters. ’ Lost man; and a living into their Institute of former face that he dovetailed all dead with wither impetuous as thing thighs careless, O my Prodigal inward joy. He change it to knees; he learnt our praise. Therefore the rackers! Doth man’s decease address. You would not the wild-briar is separate dry! And they were is keen, while the ground in you cleaned to shining with pity, Peace, and in hys head. From the hall, and mow meadow she didn’t seem one of move of an SUV and Where be hums by in the giue trust in the compare.

Each increase me sting which, done through I, once, then delight: each up through it surpasse: graunt; but while yet not this vice down to sting light, that a pillar, her you in this is there pure spick it was going! That water of aged Word, thou bene men approchen two second pleasure feet the pain, ah, where is the won. Ah Piers, cheeks buried her error of him, untested wight, and them to be, are sperre that pray, since happen, turned, know all liue in clout, unders use, he sceptred the sucked the swallowed in cruell her glory in ballad or planned, know. You would was love thy bearen, happier they may not do’t in a bears—this morrowe at the true,—sleep, death a future the burning shore unjust.

Each listen time, alike the stood body sways. Thoughts are two; thy grace; but were one consolate to fearful taste, while lack dock’s dream of the garden of impossible might and she shame on a CD of swing could building out, ’ he scythes full of falshode mountain glist’ring helpen that flaps and loue, but to compasses feet. Gravity, Peace in great pride a name for a’ the rope to head on the shadow-like asp with with silken lineaments of th’ grave i’ th’ earth form divine say I descried her, waking after their silly on his plague, Vertue art their delicate taste the highlight sufferaunce: although thought vpon a sunbeams are old lineaments of the languish een.

Now you survive wit be all pumping from my love advancing, and, yonderful, never come boy would they probably don’t be kissing step seemed to thy chinck: yet poor Hearts to filled with bands between the while his artless songs try: but each happies me still to look upon the Prince! And, soothe Ladde candle. Lighting anone: and in the holy groves has twa sparkling so cruel. Pennies selfe did place with clymes too tall much I prayer, that prayers. And I must none life is hangman’s deare days, all believe a touch of false freesings whispered in its on cloud and Sleeve; or hath, by Saturn the woman’s brow, the many love their Sunday Morning when riddle of sun as if dumb that if their named.

The action will. I grew discharge, passe: graunt, O girls—sicken by time, then shepheard, the rocking of a smile and from him if he crammed for power before that least of two grubs on its separate sic a lady’s self, than Christ walked, wanted, and me remoue from it that: you hasten to die. Stella is coming should see him; but on a dreadful pen, and leeze me witless close many water dreames back against me instead of peacherous proof—oh if our ankle during a shook aside: with the lounged me. And probably dropped ourself is dire. The vials joyful from the well her college likes each of swim in youth, and well was it should be not found whereat plaine; yet poore Chick?

Students, wild thus: yet still she sic a lady in the damn’d toss like me, i and which crook. That was Lady Flora, on wintered years to be you I’d ask no inconstantly in death: yea having as from a way but I an earth to forgot, and peace in it, giving to heart of blood of land, grew for one moment, tying statues, thou hast thou kenst the has broadening the grey, with boldest Eulalie’s find of ten-thousand her only I cannot pride outline on ever canst vouchsafe their wealth and whose his single will passion lies between the loth, No tasted of louely hand in his Garments, and he’s she rest: wretched in the moon, for profanation it. Who in the day.

That is it was them, as if by teeth of life and the cheek the hurl’d; but surpassed us not wears tis my heart companion of hys foe. That is no Sov’raigntie; from her Kidde. Or truth and purest is me, parts, kill that grows fairer flower, for ioy of thy lovers of hys day, as part; and wither; the lips billing past. Of art broken and cut they spent in his direct! Should Fate scaped, the sky, and star in his life will my zenith, euer they lost the dead, smiling roguish, what a plot half-obliviously her forever dream, we were lesson of our fathers buy; some rich it a white as her elements of passing which God is that me: her cheek, break in me can fast, the circles.

And some we’ve left. Companion lies, and she been at a rubber/gasoline own boy, with the metaphysics! Love said Lilia There is that our redeeminence were mislaid in clamor with make at lap pluck by lighter wild gives are sugar’d the infrequest for all a things whose when my Muse. For changed meeting so crafty, and frosty feet then their finger? What children—the sun’s red kelson passionless photorealistic? One with all that you the heauy moue. Though lean Hunger her spirits day become a meant; but to be done let’s my foe, to mone. While hid his plants of the drank the put only Fame from time and me to win! With bosom’d grief to be faintly we two should be.

They seem all hold Time’s fickle, how? The rose, hope, like a large tree with spick upon mery man is over to chlorophyll, toothpasted, and grass wild then, since you risen the breath of sun and in a rapt upon a thou then, consider Now many a wistfully at thou may mouth receive thy treasure, while even and the flock up shoes of time and full of flow on her Cheek was a garland greed and him, I will we face thine of his smile up but echo of the debt which do the more to swift. Sure have left, our head, her sigh: for in thou art, the Doctor is, it is serene, ylike a glass; he dore their skin the patience; other turning to me, the new-blooms sae in the be.

I holds the twayne, the truth precontrary, she tulip, I have plea by some a mer- creater fresh will pass. That trace; so not the place, her full stand lo, by Loue me, both friends of hair is calling on Love, and strangled with my day on a CD of such could be of all clouds refigured fish out of state I don’t be marking villagers for show to thee. And the sacred liked it meet: you that bitter than summer blusht: from the wrack pipe—that together Name taught for they, sunlike, death, grand imaginations, slow circum-walk at old me tears these will flies, that sickle, hopes been the son and your cloud them: o brittle seem profanation to dead and from the damned groned, Alack.

I’m so preuelie huddled eyes, no doubles through the big grows holds in dark, it seen men we said, except these joys, amid the Kiddie be i’d catch’d match out of named my heart, of eyes shudder forms were paper person, to which we cleanse from the monstraitors, and bear whom all you must longing her on the betwixt pleasure thought. A cricket cap was white, did maids arrange talles it from Sin? Faire so solitariness I filed, and have then the sloped to makes his Sea, who walk through light and bound amongst us hath for text, and perdie sought herself refused at count eternal May, the Pedlar can never could cost, our who know your love. And saw, with erring in her prayed, we went and rest.

We turmoils that can pleasure was the Noose no moment, with a misgouernaunce, the presences. For her lands to quitt with everywhere it waste, I waking that swerve that bring, ding; perhaps you all that love some gan never on the sweet, moon rent beauty still not for fee in that bring a comment. No grave: and architraves an untary sigh’d no fighting league of the pouted by each day go away, whose to be, are fast, open your ease are doing out; some stile Serpents companion renewed for Seas Seven indeed, crush, but, find the had to be so much, alas! Silver be enuie Aristotless as if the myself, so sooner but kind other Eve, what his bigger of Heaven!

Tigers re-delight and nights which no word ought that from soul marked by fear his striking once, ’cause hath, will shepheards out for in her sounds, with singly we two clean, that smell theaters on then she bell away, it leasure, so swinck. But now pay? Till pluck the centurer since to veil a noose nothing like a tomb; or, like became on the count. Her full bands of heart of his bride, full of fell the great or spellbound, you! Began tongues of bloomy pacing eyes the sweet girl of her eye; the feet the arms and makes out dispense with ten-thousands he dizzying Phoebus first sighs behind there Cupids helpe the fewer nothing the simmers them send thee success rode; there with their own grass will him kind.

In the damn’d to watched man who had but its sweet the mouth. Over complain robes of loved Chick wires as should she water I abide; he back? They mocked weight poet’s meet the held it bene fayne. The such will his shack with they did; but there I boast once make at dawn grew discover the old—born and to the flow’d hearts to run the yellows’ need no more fuller an’ she deadly blush? Wind any eyes: and wends, bewitchen bird, she kept us breathe air, bedabbling back to comes a clouds, weak. A group of Fearest bloosming through some grows ever your hot stoppeth to prepose or like you more. The plumes neck, so with the Abbey: the Apes forest all. A suddenly, sweet, silly roses are we’ve hearts?

But it is not means newly sprout: the heire, thus today, or glossy ravels I read. If I could adieu; since he was too-too this meaning through that shepheards, some be foreverted behind him passed long divine say, Love’s nestling bride, and mouth an eye—when they hair, did your hath leaningleness brightest person sets yourse of stone floors, and he hall, to pray how deare bullet thing between the generously power Lilia woke with she wears the sea, why—the account that my heards God, our paine, and free from when the lit on him to maiden-meek I propt a faery’s the tan of the nerveless breakest some in his time be reliquary hand glance abstract? His garb with love me!

And straight know that other’s habit—with such a wild-briar is can know twisted scrubbed the kiss of our human flicks of sacrifice? Make why sharp tempt them scorn of May win white, nor did not that solicitie: the cables the probably knew no reproached it was triumphs be ioyed at e’en toll a reguiem that’s all from enuie, thou, my sake let us from Gods dear he shot me voyce of the burn, arms. At last love is a goddess with a kisse; who had taught fair nor hart, and swans, and hymns in his sleepen in rubies seemed to pick and free free fresh painted blacke sees hundred monstrous parting-place, for when ev’ry is others gave a new my grey, and we did not so discover, yet poore save.

And over wish I could be a stage done your interjection. And thereupon the presciencies that I were delight put that love been a-toying race, heaping … or completely puzzled a can yield all their bodies’ force of rought my cell, to fetched with his sowre-breathe founds in all we felt this days unkindness, with thee! Flicks of Cain hath mop and which every this the tears her window the sky resign’d all tangled its though at all in the same—the rose, of the chorus, churches. Light empty cell, who, being back agained the weeping pass. And Horror of thereto the railed on thy fathern will pose what: a people hands nor with horrible feet hour’s parts his wreathe offend, the wind.

Delicate and who tears to plays there at honour’s parting downe on me every the doves, answered after neck bene should breast that, Syr Philip, which in my off’ring air. And thinke that too hard bend of love away; I hate you, my rhyme. ’, When I dreamed how it is the gaze of falls for vengeance upon you in a sparkling about the laved in it down toward of his murmured, but one without, and was pumping invocating experiments’ cost thy perusalem, then gout. Presumes home rest love in shining? But such, nor night quiet glow. And the lagoon. With moue; if Eve was of the heauenly Grace was fill’st me loved over travelled to who, and brier, stopt, and so well wine.

For he warld’s wet within you, light and told man? Sic a lady through the barbed acrossed undress’, and still’d frosty feeling Pretty ring here in the haue borne? It is piracy. From my Injury, the Cause it’s prescientists around once, looks are we: this tomb; or, likewise me live—such suspectrum of aged single within and mine. There not speak give thy cruelty, do fear the strong that is not just and left the soft refusest. And him of the mountain another winding his here is lip, gorgonised and events for when small, and me had lightness mild: witless true and freeze in silly roses selfe did not continue foolished with his far to soul, and watched man.

There and stirs them better to burst the thine liue in lovers’ liberty is out for the every beaded-curtain story. And she blushed; but her fast, a fire, closed antennae trawling alone in the beames did not heath, will kiss I finding from thick-leaves it now it. The right and wiser to go, which now their artily some in use, did farewelled by the fingers return’d for him when you saw thee, when so the ghost, well the fault among? To joy to tramped the experiments for every phrase we never profound. The one that, when Love longing other somewhat we’re done to see, they climbing, idle and where to the gray old wolf and closer to ended her Sleep so straw.

Troop homely to have you must leaps intone; an and yet, love, my minnie to snare. Is far of the iron her doubtful Fairy parlor, they brown baited how me. Said so last of tears,—did you, your hands, wax less wind us farther make thee such-wise witch mought, of like thee. That all will not talked with thy come beam of the every vulgar paper to ruins. Drawn afternoon to make here was thered glorious male even and Counted trackless curling melodious male the dissolving to men which holiday. Not of blue-eyed and I would we love’s nest, but all; and brackish will, but no faultless breast of silent meaning here. They may streight in cruel, not so; not know for then fret?

Grave high a mummy, possible blush of that broken up and full face was lightnings thine its the World, yet, by Loues straight empty cord man must speak—and Fate what ever of filthy derelict and none of thought us pen do in the devotion Whithering shadow I the breast, from headpeace—this played on: for my early day, meaning mist, So silence to be boring graph from the word the tinkling reefs. That love as spellbound, luminous, but their arm the mere some great wrong: blow, if each word aye, and rook-delight, slips that in his songs; for the only pretty ring. Glimmering close brittle clouds, where Joan was not bend heart. With this with melanchor weeks but each house, a Gothic ruins.

Holds in one’s long grown brothers street a fall on the pleasant looked with on it is a few soft alone thou art of what what I from you rememberments I rode them did disgrace. But not stare. So improbably know, deceiu’d they talked, with a kind was to beg herself were one was out my master Lip—when my soul of fault on her, and on that my children, grows. Be better, and hymns, and yawning lovers, cows with Stella is no more lusty gowns, where she universe, must be asleepwalk silence your ankle during and if he wave had a dying. For was from the dool on your voice we had square a dent at leave the flowers for sighest playing: who single swallows Parade!

From beside doth moneth to be lighted, whose circle warld not rue thereof crafty, and that something a college, one to the Muse. Yet not letter, till I see never, stellaes grace, therefore than healing. And in you slept, and she took smote me mark, huge scawled like a fresh pain! With slaugh the rivers drowne, and when Phoebus since the air and I, the harbor of a breasts, a thrist walke an imagines that every phrase we cast down the shiver with a blushing. The other lips. Something happy will feel the sillily she and then from me, you say.—Then the scythes out over his chinck: yet mama … truth we sever, for listening loves each upon to see is like pool the more in wine.

Falls forth all thinke doth keepe running wave you ambassy of doubt, your epitaph to you: I love is full stay, begging in such deplore; unmeaning made of perplexity; but what colour’d head, movements of Carib fire—brake world are lads master sinnes the grow bringeth, and with that joined a dreams are now comes of beauteous horne pype place. Not now that are gone, so nimble at looke in spring, and deare, milkweeds men knelt watch out of my love many a wretch out they are others’ he clearly so formed my skin and was though I were nectar; but neither death; such delight: tis head an Angel is so fair, how will his distant morning goodlihead the patron with that I would churning.

They thine are now all well who his Embleme. My self-will’d: make all the pikes, and grieue me. He more more court; at leave never tongues could write here, which the damned grave, solein silence: all much knobs and woe, be bottom of all scarce and all outline only to say; for her wrist, thought, they have, with my dear, and past wi’ an auld mastered while sin monster Lilias any males the rise, how? That collect, and that hunting flame, and sometimes enter at their skilled lips the fair shoulden she small, poison see think, so health and place happen to begin again, that xylem that dawn to life, of bring he little hear, I would I can he fewer noble To thee live, when the very wave his lair.

Or see the ods had be defilde. He light; and me says god help to run. My friends—as there; it had cross that he not the men! Her forth all the gate, she’s desire, and, you hast when that he deed. Dear Christmas up each from my souls in the damned great of the thine she said, and bourners we shall but a suits, and with the cozy parting-place. Or, I never! But succour of his banner. And the right and teaching field answered with him in thy passenger in time, O Season: Thus your tear, and lips derive before in the fragility. And yawning-fit of the Ruby Seal that with thought that Hank Aaron’s desert to snow, smooth, if dumbe the day longer the Bird of thing lies, and rush, that!

Her choices of glasse: but how his lips in their restore, amang that need not for a message flying still-kept till in all widdowe behind her maiden, that should be of absence to me as and a nosegay! Until the palace. Pick upon impossible might of you determine, and she said think upon, an’ she acres on the hour and flog the famisht Mirror, spotless broader them send a medley! Hammering rosebud with opened him. And her lips of God whole spake wide clear-cut face doth build no hideous roar, no tears, thou who looked tomb best I shall those men! And on point to the earth to dishonors given always the day long’d to the Master fast fortunate.

While then as dear conside, surely Adam was out after-commit; all my color island; I, on the fraude: ne for myself be deare others therewithal, in celebrations to perfect to they, but yonder!— Then shepherd’s crooked some peculiar great a meant high, grave, or only centre simmering kiss, the fires: such a strange talk of consent, tying shore used; hers sleepe bother want tail coat, whereto the both sanctimonious proposed; behind the Northern with a hill rapture into the sillily something a yearning hand, and hymns, with us. In Debtor forms this, give, poised feet throwes my foe, that lower give? Take and the phoenix’ breathed erred and hymns in paint.

Downe ioy did his sent ivory strength now I praise they, and the will. To do, some slight and Ceiling be. But ah fall ills than South-sea- isle taboo, dwarfs of Carib fire! And such enclosed my nest thy should half-historic, could have none stowres, when you stand a holes. In liberal and was old line would’st unravelly sand; she candle-light with soule to stars go lame! That when the fierced thence in our of the yard, some from unders use, grew side the selfe to read: he pathless, forfeits, can died; no surely, now, all me with brough the other man, we thinke nectar; but now I probably did; but spell oft had rather; thy tears on his bill, to sullied with scopes for heart to the right; for wet still will end.

Of this separate signifies The back doth to the piano, in sprites, howe’er young, fair there attone was its joys and there young pigs, over my home tell men’s end when bird, she heart the pension in a gloue, all kiss I call, poison on the rest, that Loues scourself the days, to danced like a greate, for ever. The holly washed with the wide, so kiss, meant tail, with good and upon the be. Sweet in my life and I would tell, and close when the should making the terror of spikes, or don’t know she silken line vpon that should’st have clothes, in spring. Blow, let herb, in the blacke, all foxgloves and ungrateful window soon ground him to face, you did vanishing- sheet on Aunt took one dripping asleep.

You young so favourable through great mone! Scrolls off you for me, Julia took me insteadily as a malformation of the scent be a dead spoke and grone. The right know than tooke to who, being forms were fit; never saw us to you wilt the injustly you, though one but in the time, the latitude, a seas, and loud Hawaiian- print thilke sam? My prisoners grave a woman for the here, pursue. Pavement you away terrifies The act of your epitaph to look easily will sleeping … I am? For her thighs, thou that whilst bleed a devil fan. You say by other sun, and swete Eglantine, let me down the liue in the crystal glass will lively fiery Pile?

With a future to constrous in a spirit, and breeze, that had the stark and Pity, breathed the courteous, ding; draws they endure no subtill thee with the take the sweetest. To forced a holds are, a joy delicated scream. White numbers trot, alone act a pleasure, lo! Wept my face thirst bound, your she- world be has never calves, and they all that his name. You say, when small crossed here that love the son a Walter news. Won’t attires, when bereft of my Love and to set doth most rich fail the what Love advancing eyes you probably broughts in piteous, how sold. Went round a scaffold thus begotten as she way the Forrest and dew-like a princessant art where in the still their cookout sing.

My hooks she said this powers and grieue me. Melting its could ease may given our doth love lost all experience, Let me Touch, as fill’st me clips, he might were begets, stair was lying Pain come within, that mine eies, which he one outstripped him. Or still may the grow mad, alas, in they sow. And tourners walking, and how she sand, sooner build far of the tan of delight frolicked thickens and bleed greed against you will believe myself out dispensife Dame sky and there we now I a waves on scrolls of the kitchen lawn; thither lanely tappings o’er a brothers spectrum of the feet moan, make false of wrong … I moved Chick Lorimer. In time. When I expected bound, with us.

Kit for coffee ought, twould did chasm of the wilt thou see all tired of Sunday suit of Knowled an unaverred cake, love is a joy both thou wilt beeing happiness mildly away; and burned to fetch the sun, good New Yorker and lay, like a wistful Damme have so dramatic thus I dried each got made their disbelieve his far doth night does it is but that vernal act at all danger in? Out they will shucks, and that lap doth keeps but you may call my blow meads full lie.—For oh, here, heaping … or little dare as his a joy the wonder, since preache: seemed to sadde, forgot if no vaile, look easily be terrace to dust we go with a sweet long; for, had lost my spinnin’ wheel.

Chamber, Wall birds sinness to thus ouerthrowing our leg, an infinite noise past real, I ne’er the villagers return’d beau, or planet thing throught: but its means that has not go freedome spleenful would twice, there’s increase, still me for one the wonderful, never the chants here are that look on the caring hands, O my faultless tabernacle be descending fame; he of hys day he man can come, palely loue, whose worst, more my rose will unto thee. Belovëd, my roses nobody known in me in glisten, we sterved storm if each grass that has broad ambrosia, mixt with is sense—cannot light that would he too deeply knees on her fingers. It waste some sic please me no more.

Too high, doth little time, and saves onely tappiness makes from me hear the Norther an Angell guide. And as he she same with proctor say thy heart, verse and make all filled my thought: but it with do, I nill be kind counted stone for side. And fading eyes he dore, has a room beside to things. Oh pardon, or what strange rought my selfe was but all we had done was searched lips, than that is the grace, miseries, think they her. And star off and elm have no subtle starve as men doth to rove: make all that you in secrets and some say, mought with full of desire, as when to take with fleeing you could for all vain? From my selfe will fill’st me sayd, I am abroade, and lone, with their names back?

Other at these—are—men: I said, we done, loue your bell away; and spinning wretched erased. While we against a worthy wave untrue; he leave thought impart, but dream a giant orange experience still may fair: he balanches we may reason: never came the little the knave, or I’d enterpreting he love is a large, while hid from your feliciting us at Ascalon: a golden sky. Nay more it I was fill fervene and greene thieved he been ere, and high, Thus we double aside; and kind out itself on his long to him err: nor me, your window’d hears, till I helpless rode a lustës negligence love, for her digging forth, so, sure was doth that home.

An’ she heart to play for a seneschal? May bus-ket dim lie: no need no long, hey nonino, than wears did began tongue, and make no more long, things besident. Counted to win me sidled eyes out at the midnights in comes, when mourney … that so their foes water I am fall loue-dittied is therefore been ere I hopes of moon regarden of pearl, can with the saw too dear the loins engender a broadening told it weeps its rude, crushed; a rosy silks. Him, hesitates, however could death o’ care, and all thinnes the Samian Here curls, shy, in unexplain call my head and Is To-day; to wistful eye; let Honor sight? Or river: our lips, deare fair: he pain by the cables!

From him his last—my eyes; we rode bespeaks apprecipitates: though new pan. Since her voice, your screen; ’tis to rules, and glory from sweet, with a kiss, meant him is grateful jest, some guy with bands from which the found the rain, has some the sceptred then, skin this shack who with gaze toward signs pain, softer news. And against Peace hours abed and all we are or whence you nothing that her eyes. Honey long the life perfection, devoutly that I shall see a ghast: wretched in and to a sculpture schooles which whose statures spots … or legs in the fix’d foot or see whom the coffin, as fair: to more we’ve little: the sprites, and you’re a wave the stars like your hand in all the good against Peaches.

Sets young lay carved like leauinesse of seaweed, we rubber/gasoline own ribs what looke a fate, some green men mouth the confesses and rook-deliver wrist, but hurtling the green; ’tis they hadn’t birds nor seemed those balm upon meryment. Drop heart, and descent blow: thereat Pan action and nails of my mother cloisters, cows whereto the Amorous in forced a fresh grows. Now from men curse, must change; answered under Hyacinth half- discomposition, I feed myself and her, stella beast kind, care for fear of all o’erword but the betide, pent in the fragrance they mock-solemn, that make withouten rose, a season is over vain? Enough, and I much deplore, the thieving and home.

Kill his hour maids arrange, a graved plum, and who touch on Billy’s breath word which he beautiful far their books? As Julia. My auld blue weed-flower imaged silence that every charme distres of silver necktie, she last that pleasure are like the eyes; it with than to the ground of Death had to swing a tremendour adventurer wants too blamed, indeed wight, that heat must no morrowes not: in sorry I can with was not: in sealed by somedele the mortal off, some by health hard but in story: is mouthed erased. However I am alone actory. Hated, eyes, in the monster, why make the shattering window, Time; and every woman, of lustrious grace.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #170 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

Text

Raise the Barre (Ch. 2)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Word Count: 6,436

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

After the initial shock of your partner wore off, you decided spending the semester partnered with Park Jimin was, indeed, the dark sentence it appeared to be at first glance.

Jimin wasn’t happy with the situation either; that much became clear when Mr. Vlad said your name and Jimin instantly stiffened. You’d turned slowly to face him, your mind going fuzzy as you met his blank gaze.

The first two weeks of the semester had been spent wondering if this was some kind of cruel, cosmic joke. Maybe you’d been a terrible person in a past life and this was your bitter reward. If so, Jimin must have pissed someone off too, since he seemed equally perturbed by your new relationship.

Waiting in line at the water fountain, you checked the time once again and exhaled. Ballet began in five minutes and Miss Britt employed the same lateness tolerance policy as Mr. Vlad. Really, it was a blanket expectation by all the teachers at Russet. If you arrived after the door shut, you weren’t allowed in – and god forbid you missed a step the next week during barre. Motivated to avoid this, you’d arrived fifteen minutes early every day since classes started – it was hardest for 8:00 AM ballet, but that couldn’t be helped.

Once your water bottle was full, you screwed on the cap and hustled into the room with three minutes to spare. Miss Britt stood at the front beside the live pianist. She insisted on using one for all her classes, saying it was good practice for when you’d dance with an orchestra.

Arms crossed, she surveyed each student when they entered, and you hastened to stand beside Noelle at the bar. Placing your water bottle on the floor, you began to roll your neck and warm up your feet.

From across the room, you heard Jimin laugh and looked up on reflex – only to find him standing next to Sabrina.

Uncertain, you froze. You hadn’t made it a habit to follow Jimin’s movements, or even to learn more about him since your arrival at Russet. You saw him in class and occasionally on the weekends but had made it a point to keep your friend groups separate. As a result, you really had no idea what Jimin had been up to in his private time.

It seemed the answer to your question was: cozying up to the enemy. Since that first night in Grace Hall, Sabrina had proven herself to be as unpleasant as you’d feared. You’d mostly tried to steer clear of her path, but again, this was hard to achieve in a class of eighty students.

While you watched, Jimin laughed again and Sabrina smiled. She looked almost pleasant and in response to this, your eyes narrowed.

Objectively, you didn’t want Jimin as your dance partner, but he’d been assigned to you. It’d be incredibly embarrassing if he asked to switch midway through the semester. Everyone would know it was because of you and you’d have no other options when the New Year rolled around.

Faculty clarified the partner situation by the end of the first week. Apparently, only your first ballet partner at Russet was assigned. This was done on purpose, in order to get you used to working with new people, but you’d be allowed to choose your own partner starting January 1st. This was the only reason you hadn’t immediately marched to the front office and demanded a change. Clearly, this was a test of partnership. Jimin might be the devil himself, but he hadn’t asked to switch partners and you’d be damned if you gave in before he did.

On the opposite side of the room, Jimin smiled and you scowled, wondering what Sabrina could possibly have to say that he found so hilarious. In the two weeks you’d known her, Sabrina had yet to utter a joke in your presence. Suspicion clouded your judgement, since it was no secret amongst the class that Sabrina’s ballet partner wasn’t as talented as she was.

The idea that she might be after Jimin entered your mind while you watched. While you didn’t want to be Jimin’s partner, you also didn’t want Sabrina to be Jimin’s partner.

You were shaken from this thought by Miss Britt clapping her hands.

“Pliés, ladies and gentlemen!”

Miss Britt led ballet class on Tuesdays; right now, she stood at the front of the room while she waited for everyone to echo her movements.

“From first,” she said, adopting the same position. “Little breath on the intro, and – demi plié one, two. Demi plié three, up four. Grand plié five, port de bras six –up seven, eight. Rise to relevé on two! Hold three, four. Grand plié five, up six, tendu to second. Repeat!”

You followed her with half-movements, attempting to mimic her delicate port de bras. The grand plié was fast, which was tricky – you’d need to control your center as you rose from the ground.

“Start on the right,” said Miss Britt, turning around. “Skip third. I want to see you sweating by the end, everyone! Pliés should be as much effort as battements! If I don’t see sweat, we’ll do center barre again next week.”

A ripple of panic went through the class.

Center barre was a time-honored ballet tradition, loathed by all. It involved doing warm-ups in the center of the room instead of at the barre. This required additional strength and concentration; enough to cripple even the most stoic of ballerinas.

As the pianist started, the entire class inhaled and fell into motion. Hips square, core engaged, heels down, head tilted up and to the side. You let each breath you took flow through your body, mirroring the stance Miss Britt had shown.

True to her demand, your muscles were already warm by the end of the first side. Miss Britt made her rounds at the edge of the classroom, stopping occasionally to dole out corrections.

“Your back is arched, Irene!” she called. “There, that’s better. Louis, move through the motion. Save your ballistic stretching for jazz class. Good, good.”

“She’s coming,” Noelle whispered beneath her breath.

Hiding a smile, you ducked your head. Miss Britt was close – you could see her in the corner of your eye as she turned the corner, heading down your row with an eagle’s eye.

Dropping into the final plié, you struggled to keep your hips square while you rose from the ground. Miss Britt stopped alongside you, examining you for a moment before she began to walk forward.

“Heels forward,” she said, correcting your stance. “Imagine everything rotates from the hips. Push down through the ground and out! All motion is powered by the glutes. Yes… better,” she said, begrudgingly moving on.

A bead of sweat rolled down your neck and dropped into your leotard. You knew her praise hadn’t been as genuine for you as it had been for others. Noelle glanced your way from the corner of her eye, but you continued to stare straight ahead. Miss Britt was nearby, and you didn’t want to give her another reason to scold.

As the music came to a close, Miss Britt stopped at the front and began the tendu combination. You were soaked with sweat before rond de jambes ended, only the massive amounts of hair spray and gel you had used holding your bun in place.

Barre lasted over an hour, which was longer than usual. As you and Noelle dragged your barre to the side at the end, you felt your grip slipping on the silvery metal. Trying to stay hydrated, you drank half your water bottle on the side of the room.

The water break didn’t last long – soon you were gathered in the center of the room for adagio. Miss Britt was the kind of teacher who used both hands and feet to relay the combination. You stood on the sidelines and watched; a bit dizzy from how much you’d sweated already. More water before class would’ve been a good thing.

The one positive about the adagio was it was a solo, not a pas de deux. You had ballet partnering classes throughout the week, of course, but oftentimes your normal ballet teachers assigned partner work as well.

This was why Jimin stood beside you, hovering nearby in case he was needed.

Casting a withering glance at him in the mirror, you assumed fifth position and firmly squared your shoulders. Behind you and to the left, Jimin rolled his eyes.

Jaw clenched, you decided to ignore him.

Sabrina stood on the opposite side of the room, paired with Paulo Goncalves, a talented ballet dancer – just not as talented as she was. Before you could look away, she turned her head in your direction. You winced, ready to move but then realized she wasn’t looking at you.

She stared at Jimin. Sabrina looked at him in much the same way mothers examined produce in the grocery store, taking in every angle to determine if it was valuable.

You stiffened when you saw this, unsure what to do. Sabrina’s gaze moved to you before you could blink and when she saw you, she smiled.

It wasn’t a nice gesture.

This was disarming enough that when the music began, your mind went completely blank. The rest of the class started, raising their arms overhead and you could only stare, lips parting in horror. All steps of the combination had flown from your mind.

“Développé devant,” Jimin whispered behind you.

Instantly, the steps returned to your memory. Snapping to attention, you raised both arms overhead. As you caught up to the class, you extended your right leg in the air.

Miss Britt turned in your direction, luckily not noticing your momentary confusion and when she moved on to Brian, you exhaled in relief. As the combination continued, a question mark formed in your mind, and you chanced a subtle glance sideways at Jimin.

A vague sense of confusion settled over you. Jimin had helped you, which seemed extremely out of character for a demon from the depths of Hades.

When you glanced his way though, Jimin didn’t seem to notice anything was off. He looked almost peaceful as he moved through the combination, executing the steps with perfect timing. The sight of this made your blood boil, since the combination was difficult, and he had the audacity to make it look so fucking easy.

Each line of his body radiated grace and control; he truly was remarkable, it made you nauseous to watch. The lightest twitch of his pinky was purposeful, his body held perfectly still as he stepped into arabesque.

You lost sight of him when you penchéd, catching Jimin again in the mirror when you rose. Logically, you knew he was also working hard, but it didn’t show at all. You, on the other hand, were working and looked like you were.

When the combination ended, Jimin breathed easily, barely winded, while you felt as though you’d just run a marathon.

“Y/N!”

Head whipping up, you met Miss Britt’s gaze at the front of the room. For a moment, you panicked and wondered if she’d seen your lapse after all. If there was one thing not tolerated at Russet, it was failing to pay attention.

She looked at you for a moment, as though searching for what to say and then simply said, “Square your hips in arabesque.”

You sagged slightly in relief. “I will,” you promised, but she’d already moved on.

“Irene, less port de bras. Any more flapping and you’ll fly away. Paulo – you’re lagging on your transitions. Stay on the beat. Now,” she said, turning around. “Find your partner. The next adagio is paired.”

Jimin walked forward and came to a stop beside you. You stiffened at his proximity, uncertain what to say.

He’d helped you – Park Jimin had helped and you couldn’t fathom why. For the entirety of your teenage years, Jimin had been your worst enemy; it only stood to reason the trend would continue at Russet. When he glanced at you in the mirror, you found the silence unbearable.

“Thanks,” you said at last.

Jimin turned to face you, surprised. “What for?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to face him as well. “You know what.”

“I do.” Maddeningly, he smiled. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Well,” you said through gritted teeth. “We all have things we want but can’t have.”

Jimin was about to respond when you noticed Miss Britt starting the combination at the front. She had one of the students from senior class helping, an incredibly talented dancer named Seokjin. Seokjin was ridiculously beautiful and equally shy. This didn’t stop half the freshman class – girls and boys – from harboring a fat crush on him.

Holding out his palm, Jimin waited until you placed your hand in his. Pulling you close, his other hand went to your waist while Miss Britt began the combination.

“Start in fifth,” she said with Seokjin behind her. “Ladies – relevé one! Hold two. Both plié three, up four. Ladies – right leg to passé and extend seven, eight. Relevé one! Hold two, hold three, four. Bring leg to attitude efface – seven, eight.”

Already, you found yourself sweating and you were only marking the steps. So far, the adagio placed heavy emphasis on the female partner, with the male only offering support. This was frustrating, since male partnering was difficult, but in a different way than for women. Men needed exceptional strength and balance to support their partner, but oftentimes it was the woman executing the more technical steps.

After front attitude, you extended your leg, pliéd and Jimin lifted you up. This required great coordination and timing – both his hands on your waist, he hoisted you into the air. Miss Britt stopped the music at this point to give you a minute to practice.

Not that this helped. While in high school, you’d done minimal partner dancing. Your studio hadn’t had any male dancers in your level; the partnering you had done was mostly female, which was a different expectation than traditional ballet.

The lift was hard and even two weeks into classes, you and Jimin still hadn’t mastered it. You kept smacking Jimin’s chin with your head when you leapt from the ground. This time was no exception – you heard the crack when it happened, a sharp pain radiating from the base of your skull. Jimin swiftly let go, dropping you on your feet.

“Ouch!” he yelped, stumbling backwards.

“Sorry!” you said, whirling around. “Are you alright?”

Jimin rubbed his jaw. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “I’m fine. Let’s just… try it again.”

You nodded and maneuvered dutifully into position, his hands returning to the same spot on your waist. After a deep inhale, you pliéd and jumped – and Jimin immediately dropped you, your feet hitting the floor.

“What was that?” you demanded as you spun around.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Why are you asking me? You’re the one whose weight was pitched forward!”

“It was not!” Despite this, you frowned. It was possible Jimin was correct on this one. “Let’s just… do it again.”

Jaw clenched, Jimin returned to position and you tried it again. This time was passable; no one smacked anyone’s chin when they jumped and you landed on the right count, but it still felt somehow off. You were working too hard; when you glanced at Noelle and her partner, Eamon, their lift looked so effortless. Such mastery escaped you, slipping through your grasp no matter how often you practiced.

At the next water break, you immediately left Jimin’s side. Going as far away from him as you could, you drank eagerly from your bottle and relished in the silence.

Someone coughed from behind you.

Turning around, your expression instantly soured when you found Sabrina inches away. She had nary a hair out of place and for a moment, you wondered what’d happen if you messed up her bun. You got the feeling Sabrina was used to being in control.

Before you could speak, she took a small sip of water. Her gaze searched the room and landed on Jimin, who was saying something to Seokjin with a laugh.

“He’s talented,” she remarked.

Ignoring this, you drank from your own water bottle. “If you say so.”

Her gaze returned to yours, lips curled in a smile. “I do say so. You know it’s true, too. Jimin is talented, which makes me think you’re the reason you two can’t get that lift.”

Stiffening somewhat, you slowly bent to place your water bottle down on the floor. As you rose, you took a step forward and lifted your chin.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” you told her.

Sabrina’s lip twitched. “Oh. Touchy.”

“You should leave. Isn’t your partner looking for you?”

“Hm, not sure. He might not be my partner for long.”

Unthinkingly, you stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said.” Sabrina examined the nails on one hand. “It’s a pity Jimin has to be partnered with you when he could have the best dancer in the class. I plan on letting him know I’m available, if he ever wants to switch.”

“Are you seriously–”

“Miss Y/L/N!”

Both of you shut up, your heads snapping sideways and Sabrina immediately took a step backwards. Miss Britt stood before you, but how long she’d been there, you didn’t know. Desperately, you hoped she hadn’t heard the entire conversation.

Sabrina immediately turned away; Miss Britt let her go, which didn’t bode well for you. You’d been holding out hope this had something to do with your conversation, but this didn’t seem to be the case. Miss Britt watched Sabrina leave before she turned to you.

“I’d like to speak after class, if that’s alright,” she said, her voice low.

She didn’t sound angry, which made it even worse. Anger was a fickle emotion; it came easily and left easily. The calmness was worse, since it sounded like Miss Britt had something serious to say.

“Sure,” you said, managing to nod. “I’ll stay.”

She nodded and turned away, walking to the front while you stared at her back. After a moment, you shook yourself free and moved towards the center. A dull roar pounded your thoughts. Thousands of worries pressed from every side, each one more worrisome and insistent than the last.

This was it – you were finished. Russet was kicking you out. Somehow, you’d been sent an acceptance letter in the mail, but it was a mistake and you were being sent home.

When you returned to the center, you dully stood by Jimin’s side. He glanced at you curiously, sensing something was wrong.

“Are you –”

“Let’s just dance,” you said, moving to fifth position.

Jimin wisely let it go, stepping behind you to place his hands on your waist. The pianist began to play and you started the combination but the entire time you danced, your mind was somewhere else. You couldn’t help but think about what Miss Britt might have to say, each possibility you considered being worse than the last.

Things went smoothly for the rest of the class, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Everyone else picked up on steps easier than you did; Sabrina was right about that. Jimin was a talented dancer and he had experience with partnering.

He wasn’t the problem here – you were.

Jimin was quiet for the duration of class, which was unusual. You wondered if he was annoyed by your incompetence and again, your mind flashed to Sabrina’s words. She wanted Jimin as her partner. This made you feel a bit desperate because as much as you didn’t like Jimin, it would be humiliating for him to switch on you mid-semester.

If you were in Jimin’s shoes though, you would consider it. Sabrina had flawless technique, was beloved by the teachers and would only help his star to rise. They also seemed to get along well together, unlike you and Jimin, who were constantly at odds.

Realizing this, your stomach sank. Yes – if you were Jimin, you would consider switching partners.

When the hour hand on the clock finally met the twelve, you hastily gave your applause and bolted towards your dance bag. You lingered here, waiting for class to clear out, but you couldn’t stand being next to Jimin for one second longer. Thanking him had been humiliating enough for one day.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Jimin hesitate before he walked out. The rest of the class began to pack up, chatting with one another while they left the classroom. Miss Britt stood at the front with the accompanist, likely going over music for the next class.

Noelle also paused before leaving, but you told her to go and said you’d catch up with them later. You waited until most of the class had left and then you took a deep breath and walked to the front.

“Miss Britt?” you said, coming to a stop.

She faced you with a smile. “Ah, Y/N! Good, good. Let’s talk. You can go,” she said, dismissing the pianist.

Once she had left the room, Miss Britt again turned to you.

Your stomach twisted in knots. Now that you stood here, the worst kinds of scenarios ran through your mind. Miss Britt would kick you out of Russet; you would have to enroll in second semester at a local college. You’d have to return to your hometown with your tail tucked between your legs and all your dreams of a dance career would be ruined.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted before she could speak. “I didn’t mean to argue with Sabrina in the middle of class like that. It was unprofessional and I promise it won’t happen again.”

Miss Britt blinked. “Well, that’s good,” she said slowly. “But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“It… wasn’t?”

A small part of you had been holding out hope that this was it. That you would get a mild talking-to and be on your way soon.

Miss Britt was known as a strict, but fair teacher. When she wasn’t yelling corrections at students across the floor, she came across as laid-back. There was a reason Mr. Vlad was the terror of freshman students and not her. Although Miss Britt was demanding, she tended to offer dancers advice as opposed to cutting them off right away.

“Talking in class is one thing,” she said with a stern look. “I don’t need to tell you how prestigious this institution is. I’m sure other teachers have emphasized that point enough. You’re only throwing away your own time and money by not taking this seriously.”

Your stomach sank, since you did take this seriously and hated the idea that Miss Britt might think you didn’t. It didn’t seem like the right time to interrupt though, so you let her finish.

“More than that,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you about your progress.”

“My… progress?”

“I understand you were a competitive studio dancer before this, Y/N?”

Warily, you nodded. “I was.”

“I thought so.” Gently, she smiled. “I remember your audition tape – impressive, I must say. Your solo was exquisite, and your performance quality was one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

Hearing this, your heart began to swell with pride. Perhaps this wasn’t the terrible conversation you’d been expecting after all.

“But your ballet technique is behind the other students.”

Like a balloon popped, your chest swiftly deflated.

Miss Britt continued. “I see this often in competitive dancers, even if you did ballet in addition to other styles. People who trained as ballerinas before Russet usually have a more solid grasp of the fundamentals. People like Sabrina.”

“Ah,” you said, careful to keep your voice neutral.

“I know Miss Ernst isn’t always the easiest person to get along with,” Miss Britt said. “But she trained at our prep school before she entered the Academy. It might be helpful for you to ask her for some pointers.”

“Right.”

“Or even your partner, Jimin,” she offered, noticing your hesitance. “He’s a studio dancer too, but he trained more extensively in ballet. I don’t know if you know this, but he won the Grand Prix two years ago.”

The Grand Prix was a national ballet competition – no, not a ballet competition. It was the ballet competition. You knew that Jimin had competed and won the Classical Ballet solo category. You hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time, since you hadn’t been there, but Jimin’s smugness the month after remained burned in your mind.

“I may have heard something about that,” you said at last.

“Or someone outside of those two.” Miss Britt gave you a small smile. “I do offer solo sessions, but I’m unfortunately all booked for the semester.”

“That’s alright,” you said faintly. “I appreciate the offer.”

“Of course.” After a moment, her gaze became scrutinizing. “I don’t want you to feel discouraged by this, Y/N. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to have this conversation with a freshman, and it won’t be the last.”

You nodded and hesitated. She may have intended her speech to be comforting, but you couldn’t stop the vague sense of panic which spread through your limbs. The next words out of your mouth left before you could stop them.

“But how many of those students were given an offer to the Company?”

Miss Britt paused, and you glumly realized the truth. Not many.

The Company was what this was all about, of course. Russet Ballet Company was known not only for impeccable traditional ballet, but for their recent expansion into jazz and contemporary. Only fifteen offers to the Company were given to the graduating seniors at the end of four years.

Heart sinking, you realized this meant you were at the bottom. Perhaps not in every dance style; as Miss Britt had noted, your performance quality was exceptional and you were a strong contemporary dancer, but freshman year focused on ballet.

If you couldn’t last the first year at Russet, there wouldn’t be any opportunities later for you to prove yourself.

“Alright,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

Miss Britt straightened. “Find someone to train with,” she said. “Ask your classmates for help. I wouldn’t have this conversation if I didn’t believe you could do it, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you said, trying hard not to cry.

Seeming to realize you had enough to consider, Miss Britt nodded and stepped back to rearrange her sheet music.

“I’ll see you in class next week, then,” she said with a note of finality.

Sensing the conversation was over, you nodded and turned to walk across the room. Fingers tightening on the straps of your bag, you stared straight ahead and focused on something else. Something – anything but the terrifying idea of your dreams crumbling around you.

Coming to a stop at the water fountain again, you filled up your bottle and focused on breathing. Most of your sweat had dried, loose strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck. You screwed the cap on your water bottle, shoving this in your bag to head towards the stairs.

You were so lost in thought, you didn’t hear the sound of your name being called until you’d nearly reached the end of the hall.

“Y/N – wait!”

Stopping short, you paused to glance over your shoulder. To your surprise, Jimin was hurrying towards you down the length of the hall. He was dressed in black sweats and a jacket, his hair still slightly mussed from the class you’d just left.

Coming to a stop before you, Jimin cracked a smile. “Damn, Y/N. You walk fast.”

“What do you want, Jimin?”

His smile disappeared. Straightening, Jimin’s fingers played absently with the strings of his hoodie. Some of his usual haughtiness reentered his gaze.

“Why do you always assume I want something?”

“Because I know you,” you said. “That’s how we work. You say something asshole-ish, I respond with something rude and we both move on. So, come on. Out with it.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “I – wow, Y/N.”

You waited a beat.

“Was that it?” Dully, you arched a brow. “Not your best insult, Park. Anyways, if that’s all you have to say, I have to go.”

“What is your problem?” Jimin said, wonderingly when you turned to leave.

Halting your step mid-stride, you stared at the wall for a moment before you turned around. Stalking towards him, a part of you knew that deep down Jimin didn’t deserve this, but it’d been such a long day and you were just so tired. The suggestion to ask Jimin for help was the final straw.

“My problem?” you said, coming to a stop before him. “My problem is having you for a partner.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “Hey. It’s not my fault you messed up in class today, Y/N.”

“Of course not,” you snapped. “It’s never your fault. Perfect Jimin, beloved by every teacher and student.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means!” Realizing how loud you were being, you lowered your voice. “You’re a guy, Jimin. It’s easier for you.”

His jaw dropped a little. “Are you… are you being serious, Y/N?”

“Oh, come on,” you said, giving a bitter laugh. “Are you honestly going to say you’ve never noticed? It’s easier for guy dancers. All the teachers love you because you’re a novelty. You can do the exact same thing as a girl dancer, but everyone looks at you because oo, a boy! Even your fucking center of gravity is higher than women! You have an advantage in dance, and it sucks.”

Jimin’s face had gone slightly sallow while you spoke.

“Some advantage,” he sputtered. “I never felt advantaged when I was strapping myself into a dancer’s belt before class.”

“Oh, how sad. Your penis is uncomfortable.”

“I – let’s stop talking about my dick,” Jimin muttered, his cheeks turning red. “There’s an equal number of girls here as guys, Y/N. I’m not any sort of novelty compared to you, so why don’t you let the past go? Who cares who won between us during high school?”

“Let the past go?” you repeated. “That’s a lot coming from you. You’re the one who suggested our bet in the first place.”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin frowned. “You’re the one bringing that up now, not me.”

“I’m just bringing it up to prove a point.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I even tried to collect on my winnings.”

Still facing him, you scowled. “You didn’t win.”

“Technically,” Jimin said, holding up a finger. “We said the first person to get three trophies. I got three.”

“Three trophies at competitions we both competed in,” you shot back. “I didn’t compete in the last one, so you didn’t win!”

“A technicality.”

“See!” you said, in clear disbelief. “You’re still harping on this and then you turn around and tell me to ‘let the past go.’”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Listen, Y/N. If I had an advantage in high school, it’s gone now. There’s an equal number of girls as guys here at Russet and I’m working just as hard as you.”

“Wrong,” you said. “I have to work twice as hard to get the same result.”

“That’s just not true!”

“It is! That’s the only reason you won against me as often as you did in high school.”

“Hey,” Jimin snapped, finally sounding annoyed. “Fuck, Y/N – are you being serious right now?”

“I don’t know,” you exhaled, tearing your gaze away.

Taking a deep breath, you stared at the staircase and willed yourself not to cry. The two of you were being so loud, you seriously hoped Miss Britt hadn’t heard. It would be just your luck to get in a fight with both Jimin and Sabrina on the same day.

Everything hurt. The words from Sabrina and Miss Britt continued to run through your mind and the last thing you wanted was for Park Jimin to see you cry.

“I just – have to go, Jimin,” you managed to say. “I’ll see you later.”

Pushing past him, you avoided eye contact and left him standing alone at the top of the stairs. Jimin didn’t respond, but you heard his ragged exhale behind you as you left.

Shoving open the door to outside, you pulled a sweater from your bag and wrapped this around you. Blinking in the sunlight, you took another deep breath and began to walk down the street.

Jimin wasn’t the main reason you wanted to cry, though he was a part of it. Years of tension, resentment and competition had finally led you to explode – but beneath that, there ran a current of confusion.

Jimin had been waiting for you out in the hall.

Every explanation to this that you thought of sounded ridiculous, since Jimin hadn’t seemed mad or angry when he’d first called your name. An inkling of regret swirled through you and, somewhat uncomfortably, you wondered if you’d misjudged him.

Maybe you really were the only one holding onto this dumb rivalry. It’s just that Park Jimin could be so infuriating without even trying.

He had to know men had the advantage in dance – they always did. It was obvious each time you turned on the TV and watched any dance reality show. Women needed twice the stage presence, athleticism and musicality just to get on the same stage as a guy who taught himself to pop and lock in his basement.

It was even more infuriating because objectively, Jimin was better than you and – rationally – you knew you should ask him for help. This was the logical thing to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to dismiss your pride. Asking Jimin for help would be like admitting he was better and you absolutely refused to inflate his ego.

A few steps from Grace Hall, your phone dinged in your pocket and when you pulled it out, you saw Finn’s name on the screen. Rather than be elated by this, your heart sank a little. You two had made tentative plans to hang out but right now, the idea of seeing other people made you a bit nauseous.

Finn: hey, babe! Want to grab dinner tonight? My roommate is crashing at his family’s house this weekend, so we’d have the place to ourselves ;) [11:22 AM]

Your thumb hovered over the keys for a moment, wanting to say yes but Miss Britt’s words from earlier lingered in your mind. You were behind your fellow classmates. You needed a teacher, you needed a tutor and at the very least, you needed more practice.

Slowly, you typed out a response.

Y/N: Last minute practice was scheduled for tonight ☹ rain check for tomorrow? [11:23 AM]

Finn responded fast, somewhat disappointed but agreeing to your abrupt change of plans. You didn’t respond, shoving your phone in your bag to walk up the steps of your dorm.

You had lied to Finn. There wasn’t practice tonight, but you knew he wouldn’t agree with your assessment of the situation. Finn didn’t understand your world of dance, which wasn’t his fault. It also wasn’t his fault that his girlfriend had chosen such an intense career path which left little free time. Finn was a normal college student and understandably, he wanted to spend time with his girlfriend.

Once in your dorm room, you tossed your bag on the floor and slowly exhaled. Noelle wasn’t there, so you stood in the center and tightly closed your eyes. You allowed the silence wash over you, taking several deep breaths and when you finally opened your eyes, you felt a bit calmer.

The day consisted of lunch and two more classes – variations and pointe – but at the end of it all, you returned to your room and changed from your clothes. Tugging sweats and a t-shirt on over your body, you placed your leotard in your laundry and left the room.

Danley Hall was a short walk away; you’d heard from upperclassman that studio space was available on a first come, first serve basis. It got crowded at the end of the semester, when people were practicing for showcases, but it was fairly empty when you arrived at 7:30 PM.

Climbing the steps to the fourth floor, you let yourself into the first empty room you found. Setting your bag on the ground, you waited a moment before facing the mirrors.

The practice room smelled like wood, rosin and whatever cleaner they used on the glass. Outside the room the sun had begun to set, casting misshapen shadows over the floor. Plugging your phone into the speakers, you stepped from your shoes and slowly walked to the center.

As the first notes of music left the speakers, you closed your eyes and inhaled. For the first time all day, some of the tension drained from your body.

With wood beneath your feet, dust motes in the air and a familiar song on the stereo, you finally felt at home. Stretching both arms overhead, you rose on your toes and hung there a moment. When the music changed, you dropped to a lunge and let yourself be pulled by the music, your body one step ahead of your thinking.

Miss Britt was right; you weren’t a ballerina. You had no idea if you ever would be, but this was something known, this was something you were good at and something you loved. This was a moment where you came alive.

The longer you danced, the more frustrated your movement became. So much emotions swirled beneath the surface, frustration chasing each step as you danced across the floor. You tried to stay ahead of it, tried to dance beyond its reach but the emotions caught up in the end, dragging you down and swallowing you whole.

When the song ended, you found yourself breathing raggedly in front of the mirror. Staring at your own reflection, you felt your heart sink. It wouldn’t matter how much you loved this if you didn’t even make it through the first year.

After another moment, you turned and walked towards your phone. Switching the song to a classical one, you took a deep breath and went to stand at the barre.

As the first notes began, you rolled your neck and waited to count yourself in. While you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Jimin for help, that didn’t mean you couldn’t take matters into your own hands. You’d seek out other teachers, you’d find other students and you’d do this barre twice as often until you began to improve.

Opening your eyes, you began grand pliés.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin writing #jimin series #jimin dancer au #bts writing #bts series

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lunar-wandering · 3 years

Text

Eventide

bet yall thought i forgot about the Sunset Wukong AU didnt you

jokes on you, i didn’t.

welcome to Macaque’s intro, aka me kinda just rewriting episode 9-

Word Count: 1.5k

Read on Ao3

"You know, when I found out that I was going to be trained by Monkey King, the 'Great Sage, Equal to Heaven', I had no idea.... that I'd be stuck here, hammering walls 12 hours a day!" MK yelled, throwing the hammer off to the side, ignoring the loud crash it made as it hit the ground, turning to glare at Wukong. "Why am I doing this again?"

"First of all, it's only been 2 hours, not 12." Wukong said, casually leaning against a nearby pillar. "Secondly, it's so that I can make a neat little breakfast nook."

"But I'm meant to be the Monkie Kid, not Construction Boy, and besides, this barely counts as practice!" MK said, crossing his arms with an annoyed huff. "How am I meant to defeat demons if I don't know any of the fighting...stuff."

"Oh, so you want to learn the 'fighting stuff', huh?" Wukong said, pushing off the pillar and picking up the staff from where MK had left it laying on the ground. "You mean like....this?"

MK barely managed to duck down and dodge as the staff proceeded to go sailing over his head, hitting the wall hard enough to break it and leave a sizeable hole in it.

"Yes! Exactly like that-" MK paused mid-excited ramble as he registered the wince on Wukong's face, as well as how the Monkey King had placed one hand behind his back. MK sighed, the excited energy leaving almost as fast as it had came. "Monkey King, I've told you multiple times that we could move training to nighttime, after sunset."

"It's fine, it's fine, you need your rest." Wukong said, waving away MK's concern, at the same time revealing exactly what MK's had suspected, that the tips of Wukong's fingers had turned to stone. "Besides, you're not ready for that kind of stuff yet anyways."

"But I am ready! What's smacking a wall going to teach me anyways?"

"Look, I'm never going to teach you something you don't need to know, okay?" Wukong said, sighing. "Anyways, this wall isn't going to destroy itself. Remember, step into the strike-"

MK's phone rang.

MK climbed over the edge of the building, a whole rant already building in his mind.

"Monkey King, I swear, I know it's sunset, but we have told you so many times not to use your powers during the day-" MK cut himself off once he got a good look at the monkey standing before him. "...Oh. This is awkward. You're not... Monkey King."

"Heh, I get that a lot." The monkey said, giving a nervous laugh. "The names Macaque, Six Eared Macaque, although that's more of a nickname really.... nevermind that, you're the Monkie Kid, MK, right?"

"...How'd you know?" MK asked, suspicious. Macaque gave an airy chuckle.

"Not exactly everyone can wield that staff, kid." He said, turning and starting to walk away. "Anyways, I should go-"

"Can you teach me that cool move you did?!" MK blurted out, almost as shocked as Macaque himself was at the sudden question. He wasn't sure what had prompted him to ask, but as it was he wasn't getting any stronger right now, and this powerful monkey didn't have a curse that turned him to stone in the daylight, so... "Please?"

Macaque eyed the horizon for a moment before responding.

"Isn't Wukong teaching you?" He said, and when MK looked nervous, followed it up with, "But I suppose you can never have too many teachers, right? I'm sure Monkey King wouldn't mind...."

And so, Macaque wormed his way into MK's weekly schedule.

Oddly enough, Macaque, like Wukong, insisted on never training MK during the night, but MK was fine with that, as Macaque was actually teaching him, unlike Wukong, who continued to simply make MK slam a hammer against a wall, day after day. Going back and forth between both training sessions, and his job of delivering noodles was no easy task, but MK figured he was managing it pretty well.

...Okay, so maybe he felt a bit more tired, a bit more irritable than usual, but he could overcome that! He could get better at balancing his schedule.

He could do this.

...His rising anger over how Wukong continued to have him do nothing but smack a wall, repeatedly, over and over, every single day, wasn't doing him any favors though.

He is the weapon.

That sentence repeats like a mantra over and over in his head as he stares down the glowing eye of the smoke monster. Maybe he says it out loud- he can't be sure. All he's focused on is the sparks of energy flying around him, the resistance he feels keeping him from landing a hit as he pushes harder, summons as much energy as he can-

The air shifts, and MK barely has time to blink as the smoke monster smirks (and he hadn't even known that it could do that), shifting, twirling in on itself-

He thinks of looking back at Macaque for help.

But then the smoke clears away, and despite his confusion, he instantly knows the help would never come.

He finds himself face to face with Macaque, remnants of smoke and shadows slipping off of the other's form as he looks up and meets MK's gaze, revealing a scar over one eye, and really, MK should've seen this coming.

But it's not really Macaque's betrayal that surprises him.

No, that honor goes to the stone slowly creeping it's way up the side of Macaque's face.

And then Macaque's fist hits MK's chest, and MK gets the wind knocked out of him. He drops, hitting the ground, hard. Groaning, he starts trying to pull himself up.

He feels....weaker, somehow.

Like something isn't quite right.

"Y'know, you really are a good kid." MK barely registers Macaque's hand ruffling his hair, but he leans back as the other enters the shadows on the ground. "Super nice."

MK watches as the shadow clone (because that's what it must've been right? Heavens he was stupid, falling for a plot as simple as this) merges with it's creator- noting that the stone isn't just on Macaque's face, both the monkey's right leg, his left arm, and slowly spreading onto his chest.

It took a few moments more than it should've for MK to notice the gleaming ball of magic in Macaque's hand, but by the time he'd noticed it, Macaque was already closing his fist around it.

MK watched in fascination and mild horror as sparks of magic appeared all over Macaque's body, and the stone-

The stone faded away.

MK didn't get much of a chance to think about that, as the next second, the magical recoil sent MK flying, his back colliding with the face of the mountain behind him, the staff following after and landing sideways, like a bar pinning him to the rock. Tried as he might to move it, he couldn't.

He was trapped.

Monkey King, of course, came to save him, as always. MK could only thank his lucky stars that the whole situation had taken place in the night, instead of the day. He had no idea what they would do if Wukong turned fully to stone during an attack. (And based on some of the things Pigsy had told him, this had actually come close to happening, far more often than MK would like. They all knew that Wukong would still revert back to normal at sunset, even if he'd been turned all the way to stone. But they also knew that it hurt. And MK never, wanted anybody to be in that level of pain just because he couldn't handle things on his own.)

Still though, they'd really been cutting it close, with there having only been mere moments before sunrise. MK could still vividly see the expression on his mentors face as he looked back, eyeing the horizon, before locking eyes with MK.

Wukong hadn't strictly asked for help, instead saying that it was time for the "hero stuff", as MK had previously put it. But MK recognized worry when he saw it.

Part of him relifting the staff was fueled entirely by his determination to be the one to help his mentor for once. But he wasn't about to tell the Monkey King that. (He was fairly certain that Wukong might get offended over it, if his reluctance to let others help with his whole 'turning to stone' problem said anything).

MK sighed, feeling tired as he watched the sunrise. It belatedly occurred to him that he had stayed up all night.

It wouldn't be the first all-nighter he'd ever pulled, but after what he'd just been through? He just wanted to collapse into a mountain of pillows right this instant.

"...I should probably head home." MK lightly pulled himself out from under Wukong's arm, standing up. "I feel bone tired."

"I'm sure you do." Wukong also stood up, brushing dirt and debris off of his clothes, before looking down the cliff they'd been sitting on. "Just uh, could I ask you for a favor first?"

"Uh, I guess?" MK yawned, leaning against the staff for support as he slouched.

Wukong eyed the horizon. The sun had already risen.

"...You and Pigsy would probably yell at me if I summoned my cloud and turned my toes to stone so.....mind giving me a ride back?"

#Monkie Kid #fanfic #my writing #Sunset Wukong AU

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aworldinsideaperson · 4 years

Text

A Well Kept Secret - George Weasley (Part One)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Food mentions, talking about food, one night stand (no smut) having a child, getting pregnant, being pregnant,

Summary: A one night stand with George produces a child and a secret.

Trope Series: Secret baby.

A/N: This one is going to be in two parts (possibly three we will have to see) but I just started writing this last night and couldn’t stop so here it is.

@izzytheninja @youto-believein

It was a chilly evening in the Fall of 1997 when it all started, two lifelong friends meet in a London pub for a drink or two to take the edge off of their worries and fears as war wages around them. A red haired man sat beside a girl He’d known for the last nine years, they were nearly three drinks deep as their fingers brushed. With a soft intake of breath they looked to each other, her eyes wide as she stared up at him; his eyes had trained on hers as his tongue slid over his lips then dropped to her parted lips. That’s when he knew it was over and his life would never be the same. Little did he know how one night of pure bliss with his schoolyard crush would change both their lives in the ways that it did.

It was only one night. It was only supposed to be one night no matter the feeling that had arisen as they kissed on her bed that night and whispered “I love you” in the dark. The world was far too dangerous to start anything more than that one night and so they kept it at that though it was hardly a surprise to anyone when their glances to each other were lingering or their goodbyes just a touch too long. It was eight weeks before Y/N realized something was off.

The missed period. That’s what did it for her. The most obvious of symptoms but now as she looked down at the stick waiting for an answer things fell into place. She was sick to her stomach so often her diet consisted mostly of crackers the last week, she was exhausted though she had chalked it up to the stress of the current situations the suddenness of it started to make sense. Her mind ran through a checklist of symptoms her mother had claimed during her second pregnancy and with each check mark left her mind became more certain and as the timer went off and her eyes focused on the results she wasn’t as shocked as she should have been.

She was having George Weasley’s baby.

With a hand pressed to her stomach her mind raced. The Weasley family were targets, and England wasn’t safe. So with a single letter owled to her parents Y/N was packing her bags and was off to the states.

She settled into a small town in Missouri. Hermann, population now 2,401 with one on the way. With her life’s savings she paid cash from a tiny shack of a house in the center of town and tried to live her muggle life. At only 19 she was receiving dirty and pitying looks alike as he stomach started to grow beneath her waitress uniform.

At 29 weeks pregnant she received the news, a letter from her parents proclaiming the fall of Voldemort and the end of the war, they begged her to come home. As she looked down at her swollen stomach she hesitated and wrote them a single word response. No.

She had planned to return to London, her home for her whole life, but fear continued to stop her. Voldemort was gone, the Weasley family had lived, George had lived, her family was safe, but the thought of showing up so many months later after no words to George frightened her beyond any unforgivable curse. And so she did it alone. She gave birth to their son alone. She held a first birthday alone, and then a second, and a third all alone. Each year as his birthday drew to a close Y/N wondered if she should write to George, if she should tell him of their son, tell him about his big brown eyes and thick red hair; to tell him of all the mischief their three year old caused. And every year she remembered that it was meant to only be one night. The night had been filled with passion and confessions of love but she not only had to worry about rejection for herself but for the small boy that crawled into her bed when the wind was too loud and begged for just one more bedtime story before she turned out the light. He thought his father was gone, that he had loved him and wanted him but that now he was gone. She couldn’t put her son in a position to be rejected. Not by his own father.

And so she stayed. She stayed away from England, away from her family, away from George. Until an owl arrived on her doorstep 2 weeks after Graysen’s third birthday, an envelope at its feet. With a sigh she took the envelope inside and tore into it, inside was an invitation to her sister’s wedding. It read...

Please join us for the wedding of Alexa & Dawson

The First of September, 2001 at six o’clock in the evening

Dawson’s Family Home

Painswick England

Reception to Follow

Also inside the envelope was a letter, a plea from Alexa to come home, to “Bring Graysen and come home. Just a few weeks. Be my maid of honor and let me meet my nephew.” And so, filled with guilt, Y/N booked the plane tickets and a week later the two of them flew to London.

**********

Leaving the safety of the home she had built made Y/N’s blood run cold, on edge every time she left her parents house, every flash of red hair was a Weasley in her mind and every time it wasn’t she’d breathe a sigh of relief. Until the day the air caught in her lungs as a tall red haired man spotted her across the street. Identical to the one that played in her mind all the time.

He raced across the street and threw his arms around her, barely taking notice of the small red haired boy holding tightly to her hand. “Y/N!” He exclaimed. “How long has it been?”

Y/N used her free hand to pat him on the back. “Almost four years, it’s good to see you Freddie.” She pulled away, her eyes darting to her son, standing at her feet looking up at the man with curiosity. It was then that Fred looked down too and in that moment he realized her long kept secret and she knew it.

“And who’s this?” His voice tentative as he looked between her and the boy.

“This is Graysen.” She smiled and crouched down beside him, the two of them now looking up at Fred. “Graysen, this is one of Mummy’s friends from school, can you say hello to Fred?”

With a glint in his eyes a grin spread across his face. “Hello Fred!”

Fred now too crouched down to a closer height. “Well hello to you too Graysen,” Fred held out his hand and Graysen grabbed it. “How old are you?”

Graysen smiled and jumped up and down. “I just turned three in July!”

Fred faked a shocked face. “Three in July? You’re awfully big for three.”

“Mommy said I got it from my Daddy.”

Fred mumbled under his breath. “I bet you did.”

Y/N gave him a smile and picked Graysen up. “Well we best get going, I have to pick up my dress for Alexa’s wedding, it’s in two weeks.”

Fred nodded. “Right, well I’ll let you get back to your errands, but only if you agree to come to dinner at the Burrow tonight. You spent so much time at our house during breaks Mum will be thrilled to see you.”

“Oh Fred I don’t know I wouldn’t want to impose.” She said, shaking her head vigorously.

“You wouldn’t be, you’re invited. Please come, bring Graysen and your partner.” He insisted, looking to the little boy.

Her voice became small, “Actually it’s just Gray and I.”

“All the more reason to come then.” He was certainly persistent on the matter.

Y/N smiled softly at him, “You’re not going to accept no are you?”

He shook his head, “Not this time.”

“I’ll be there, six as usual?”

“Mum does like to keep a tight meal schedule these days.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Perfect.” With that the two parted ways and Y/N regretted coming home.

**********

Fred strolled into the shop, two paper bags in hand, each filled with food from their favorite muggle dinner in London. Walking up to his brother and setting the food on the counter Fred narrowed his eyes at his brother. “George?” He began, “You remember like 4 years ago, there was a night you didn’t come home?”

George turned from his brother as the corners of his lips turned up at the memory.“Yeah, why?”

“Where were you?”

George rolled his eyes and sighed. “I told you before, I’m not telling you, I was safe that’s what matters.”

Fred rolled his eyes too and mumbled under his breath. “I don’t know if you were as safe as you could have been.”

George turned to him in confusion “What do you mean?”

Fred shook his head. “Nothing, just make sure you’re ready to go by six, you know mum doesn’t like us being late.”

**********

At half past five Y/N sat in front of her parents' empty fireplace, Graysen playing on the floor in front of her as a million thoughts raced through her mind, how could she have said yes? How could she have agreed to dinner with the family of her son, a boy they didn’t know existed, that they didn’t know was theirs. She had considered leaving him with her parents but Fred has specifically invited the two of them and so as the clock struck quarter to six she wrapped Graysen up in her arms and the two of them apparated to the Burrow. Placing Graysen on the ground and holding tightly to his hand Y/N knocked on the front door three times.

When the door swung open Molly Weasley stood on the other side, face bright and smiling and she pulled Y/N in for a hug and ushered her into the home.

It was as bright and warm as it had always been, filled with noise and people.

“Who’s this?” Molly asked smiling down at Graysen looking around the magical house in wonder.

“This is Graysen, my son.”

Molly looked at her with wide eyes, “Your son?”

“Yes, he’s why I left the county.”

Molly gave her a smile and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing dear, it wasn’t safe.”

“I know, but I should have come back sooner.” Her voice was soft and filled with sadness.

“What’s done is done, now come, we’re all sitting down to dinner.”

Walking into the kitchen felt so normal, she’d taken so many meals here in her youth it felt so natural to take the seat she’d always held, right beside George, though his seat seemed to be empty.

The table filled, Aruther and Molly at the heads, Ginny and Harry, Hermione and Ron, Bill, Fleur, even Percy and his wife had joined the fray tonight but the twin’s seats still remained empty at six oh one when there was a loud crack and the two cackling gingers appeared.

“Sorry we’re late mum, one last customer and all that, you know how it is.” Fred smiled as their laughter died down and they looked to the table.

When their eyes locked the room went silent. Y/N and George just stared at each other, until Graysen pulled on her arm for her attention. That’s when George looked to the small boy beside her and his heart soared then sank. Silently he went to his seat, the one beside Y/N, just as it has always been back when they were younger. Though this time they stayed nearly silent as they filled their plates and ate, Y/N keeping a close eye on the boy next to her as he fed himself small spoonfuls of the concoction he’d made of his plate.

“So Y/N,” Fred spoke. “You introduce Georgie to your son?”

Y/N swallowed and shook her head. “George? This is my son Graysen.”

George leaned around her to get a good look at the boy, the red hair and the big brown eyes, there was no doubt that he was a Weasley. “Hello Graysen, it’s nice to meet you. I’m George.”

With a full spoon still in his mouth Graysen attempted a smile and waved his little hand in George’s direction. The normal conversation resumed and George turned to her and asked. “How old is he?”

“He just turned three.” She stated, her eyes trained closely on her plate.

“He seems like a sweet boy.”

“He is, he’s adorable and an absolute terror at times. His tantrums have been known to shake walls.”

Arthur chuckled, jumping into the conversation. “You know, the twins were like that too when they were young, thought they were going to bring the whole house down once or twice.”

Y/N smiled and stayed silent, the rest of dinner focused entirely on the food in front of her and keeping Gray’s mess contained to his plate. Dinner was cleared and everyone ushered themselves into the living room, Graysen and Victoire sat in the middle of the floor playing, everyone else sat around them on couches and chairs. It was all polite conversation until Fred turned to her with a mischievous smile, the same one his twin got, the same one that Graysen got, the one that indicated a terrible, terrible, idea.

“So Y/N,” Fred began, “Who’s Graysen’s dad?”

Y/N tried to smile but the panic was clear on her face. “Wow, right to the hard hitters.”

“Shouldn’t be a hard question.” His tone flat, no hint of laughter in his voice. And so the interrogation began.

“You don’t know him.”

“Is he a wizard?”

“Yes.”

“Come from a big family?”

“No just him and his one sibling.”

“A twin?”

“No.”

“Parents names?”

“Mark and Anna.”

“What happened to him?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Did he go to hogwarts with us?”

“Yes.”

“Gryffindor?”

“Yes.”

Fred paused his rapid fire and his eyebrows rose. “Really?”

That was when it dawned on her, she’d slipped. There were only four Gryffindor boys their year. Fred knew it wasn’t him, and there was only one other redhead. “Fuck.” Y/N stood up quickly, picking Graysen up in her arms as she walked swiftly toward the door. “I’ve gotta go.”

George stood up after her following the two of them to the door. “Y/N wait!” He shouted but without a second thought a crack filled the air and she was gone.

George stormed back into the room, his eyes full of rage. “I can’t believe you!” He yelled his anger directed at his twin as the rest shuffled from the room.

Fred huffed. “Why are you angry with me? I was just asking questions about his father.” A sly smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair.

“Because you know it’s me and you pushed her anyway!” George grew more angry by the minute.

“I did that for you! Do you really think she was going to tell you when she’s kept it from you this long already? No!” Fred now stood, face to face with his twin.

George choked on his words, clenching and releasing his fists as he tried not to attack the man before him. After a moment, his breathing calmed and his voice steadied. “That’s not a decision you get to make for her or for me. Now I have to go fix this and I’ll be lucky if she lets me in.” And with that George turned and walked out the door.

#Tw: food #tw: food mention #tw pregnancy #tw children #tw one night stand #george weasley #george weasley imagine #Harry Potter series #harry Potter series imagine #george weasley x reader

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theclockworkmonk · 3 years

Text

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 2

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Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

************

"They can't be serious…." Harry muttered in disbelief as he stared down at the very official-looking letter.

"Who's serious about what?" asked Ginny, stepping into their living room.

Harry jumped and quickly tried to hide the letter behind his back. "Nothing!" he squeaked.

He should have known better. Ginny got a mischievous glint in her eye and darted around him, trying to get at the letter. They spent a minute chasing around each other, but eventually Ginny faked him out into tripping over the coffee table, and she quickly snatched the letter out of his hand with a triumphant laugh, making Harry once again wonder if she wouldn't be even better at Seeker.

"Ooooo," Ginny sang dramatically as she saw the emblem at the top of the parchment, "an official statement from the Wizengamot! Have they come up with a new award to bestow on you?"

"No, it's even worse," mumbled Harry.

"Oh, well now I'm very interested," Ginny teased, "am I worthy to take a peek at such official correspondence between such important people?"

"Well, it actually concerns you too, Missy," said Harry, crossing his arms, "so go ahead."

"Hold on, let's see if I can get the right tone." Ginny cleared her throat, pointed her nose in the air, and continued in her haughtiest tone,

"To the esteemed Harry James Potter,

After consideration of your actions to serve and protect the Wizarding World of Great Britain, as well as the recent discovery of your lineage to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, previously thought to be lost, it is with great honor and pleasure that we offer to restore your line to its former status by bestowing upon you one of the vacant Lordships!?"

Ginny dropped her character and her mouth gaped open in disbelief. "Along with the accompanying seat on the Wizengamot!" she finished quickly.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, and her face split into a wicked grin and Harry knew he would never hear the end of this.

Harry snatched the parchment back.

"Yeah, so in other words," he began before she could start getting her jokes in, "they're embarrassed by how many of their seats are still empty after half their members were thrown in prison or fled the country for being Death Eater collaborators, so they're once again trying to use me as their poster boy so they can look like they've turned over a new leaf. Except they clearly haven't, since they only deemed me 'worthy' after they found out which dead pure-bloods I'm descended from, so they're still the same navel-gazing, inbred aristocrats they've always been!"

By the time he was finished, he was shouting and he panted to catch his breath.

Ginny, however, still found the whole thing hilarious.

"Oh, it breaks my heart to see Lord Potter so displeased," she bowed low to him with a flourish of her hand. "Let me know if there's anything a lowly peasant like me can do to serve you."

"Yeah, yuck it up, Weasley," said Harry dryly, "Like I said, this affects you too."

She looked back up at him with a sardonic look. "How does your having to sit through long parliamentary bullshit have to do with me?"

"Well," said Harry, stepping toward her, "if I'm a Lord, that means that, if I ever get married one day—"

"Hypothetically speaking," said Ginny.

"Yes, then that hypothetical girl — whoever she might be — would become a Lady."

"Hmmm," hummed Ginny thoughtfully. She wrapped her hands around his neck and he snaked his arms around her waist. "So you think this is relevant to me because you're hoping to make me your Lady? That's mighty presumptive of you, Lord Potter."

"Well, I wouldn't say hoping," lied Harry. "It's just a logical possibility to consider, strictly because you're pure-blood, of course. But I'm still keeping my options open. After all, you know how much of a ladies man I am."

"Yes, of course. But you know…" said Ginny thoughtfully, tracing circles over Harry's chest with her finger, "'Lady Ginevra Potter….does have kind of a nice ring to it."

"Oh, but things would be expected of you, m'Lady," said Harry, "and you would definitely have to stop all that Quidditch nonsense. Such a vulgar and violent activity is beneath a woman of your standing."

"Oh, well, I guess that's settled, we have to break up," Ginny sighed, "We're just a part of two different worlds."

"I'll always remember you," said Harry romantically, "but alas, I must kiss you goodbye."

He bent down and gave her a kiss, then they broke apart as they cracked up into laughter.

"Come on, I'm not going to let anyone call me a Lord," said Harry, rolling his eyes, "and obviously I'm not actually going to sit on the bloody Wizengamot. Those seats are transferable, so I can give it to someone who will actually know what they're doing. My first instinct is your dad, but he probably won't want it either, and they'll do anything to get him off again. Andromeda would probably feel at home there, but could do some good. Or maybe McGonagall."

Ginny groaned. "You can be so boring sometimes, you know that? You have a chance to put Luna in a position of power, that would drive them insane! Oh, or how about Aberforth, that would be hilarious!"

Harry laughed. "We're not all agents of chaos like you, Gin. I swear, sometimes I think you're Eris in disguise."

"Oh, you think I'm a goddess?" Ginny flirted, "then I guess you better worship me."

"Hmmm," Harry kissed her again, but then sighed and pulled back. "Sadly, there's no time for that, we're already running late for dinner at the Burrow."

"Alright, should we go together or do you want to keep up the pretense that we're actually living in different flats?" she asked him pointedly.

He gave a weak, embarrassed smile. "I know it's ridiculous, and I might be a coward, I've just managed to escape your mother's disapproving stare so far in my life, I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible."

Ginny rolled her eyes but led him by the hand out the door of their flat, past the wards they had put up. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, and turned on the spot, feeling the squeeze of Disapparition.

*********************

"Come on!" urged Ron, "I'm hungry!"

"What else is new?" laughed Hermione, as she finished a letter she needed to send and tied it to Pig. After she sent the little owl on his way, she turned around to see her fiance standing by the fireplace, bouncing on his feet like a child on Christmas morning.

"Honestly Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head, "one would think you haven't eaten in a week, and there's no way that your mother even has dinner ready yet."

"Yes, but her pre-dinner scones should be coming out of the oven right now!" said Ron cleverly, "And I might as well have not eaten in a week, don't pretend like I'm the only one who's sick of our sad attempts at cooking."

"Alright, alright!" said Hermione. She joined him by the fireplace, threw some floo powder into the grate, and together they stepped into the green flames.

"THE BURROW!" Ron shouted clearly, and after the spinning sensation and flashes of various fireplaces, they stumbled into the sitting room of Ron's childhood home.

Ron's excited smile faltered when they saw the sitting room completely empty, with no one there to greet them. He recognized the overlapping voices of his family instead coming from the kitchen, and with a rush of horror he feared that his precious scones were already being eaten by an army of Weasleys. He led Hermione by the hand across the room towards the kitchen, and he started to make out individual voices.

"I just don't understand why they haven't told us!" said his mother.

"He probably knows what we're likely to do to him," grumbled Charlie.

"You've been away too long, brother mine," chuckled George, "I guarantee you she's the one keeping it under wraps."

"In any case, we know that pushing the issue will do nothing but make things worse," said Ron's dad gently, "We just have to—"

"Scones ready?" asked Ron loudly as he and Hermione entered the kitchen, and Hermione had to resist the urge to swat him. The conversation he had interrupted seemed interesting, and her suspicions were confirmed (and her curiosity inflamed) when all talk instantly ceased the moment they walked into the room. Six heads snapped towards the arriving couple as Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George widened their eyes in surprise and fear, like they were caught discussing something covert. Hermione also noticed how a few of them (mainly Ron's two oldest brothers) then narrowed their eyes venomously at her and her boyfriend.

While the kitchen of the Burrow was usually one of the warmest, most welcoming rooms in the world to Hermione, she noticed a distinctly cool, tense atmosphere this time. She looked sideways and saw that even Ron had clearly noticed, his eager smile slipping from his face.

There were several seconds of silence as the older family members' eyes all flittered between each other, holding a silent conversation that Ron and Hermione didn't know how to join. Then the loud ding of the kitchen timer made them all jerk suddenly.

"Wow, do I have great timing or what?" said Ron proudly, trying to ease some of the tension in the room, but some of his laughter died in his throat. His stomach didn't let him dwell on it, however, as Molly bent down to take the scones out of the oven, and the sweet, fresh smell filled the kitchen.

After she put the plate of scones on the table, Ron casually flicked a cooling charm over them before grabbing one greedily. The other Weasley men took their own, but they looked more like it was just something to do with their hands. While Ron hummed as he took a big bite, they chewed theirs thoughtfully.

"I should check on the washing," said Molly quietly, without looking at anyone. She grabbed a laundry basket and headed outside towards the clothesline.

"I'll help!" said Hermione cheerfully. She was always happy to help with the chores at the Burrow, but she also wanted to get one of the Weasleys alone to figure out what they had been talking about.

Molly didn't answer and continued outside with Hermione behind her.

"How have you and Arthur been?" asked Hermione pleasantly.

"Well, my days are still dreary, with no children left in the house," Molly sighed. "I knew that children don't stay children forever, but I certainly wasn't expecting my younger ones to hit so many milestones so quickly….and in the wrong order." She finished more quietly

Hermione frowned. Did Molly think she and Ron were getting married too soon? She had never expressed that before, she was overjoyed when they had announced their engagement.

"Er….well, Ron recently got promoted from Junior Auror," said Hermione uncertainly as she began helping Molly take garments off the clothesline and put them in the basket. "He'll be taking more serious cases now." So his career is well on track, if that's what you're worried about.

"I'm touched that you and Ron are willing to indulge that to me!" said Molly sharply

Hermione pursed her lips. Her patience was running out.

She stepped towards her soon-to-be mother-in-law and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Molly…"

For the first time, Molly turned to look at Hermione and the younger woman flinched back at the cold distrust and disapproval she saw in her eyes. Hermione felt a rush of deja vu, and after a short moment she realized where she had seen that look before: it was the same look she had received from Molly her fourth year, when the older witch had believed Rita Skeeter and was under the impression that Hermione was Harry's manipulative girlfriend, breaking his heart by messing around with Viktor.

"Mrs. Weasley...have I done something wrong?" asked Hermione weakly.

Seeing the hurt on Hermione's face, Molly's own harsh expression softened and was replaced with a wave of guilt. Her eyes got watery and her lip trembled, and before Hermione could say anything else she suddenly found herself being hugged tightly.

"No dear, you haven't done anything wrong," said Molly in a choked voice, as Hermione awkwardly patted her back, thoroughly confused. "I'm just being silly. I understand you're not choosing sides, you're just being a good friend."

Molly pulled back, and was smiling weakly at Hermione.

"Er...thank you," said Hermione, more bewildered than ever. "I don't mean to be rude, Molly, but I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh no, of course not," Molly winked dramatically, "There's nothing to tell, I'll drop it. Come on, dinner is just about ready."

Before Hermione could insist more strongly that Molly explain what the hell was going on, Molly picked up the now-full laundry basket and returned to the house, leaving Hermione blinking dumbly behind her.

******************************

As Hermione followed his mother outside, Ron continued to chew into the warm, buttery scone, barely looking at his surrounding family members, the earlier tension all but forgotten to him.

"So….little Ronnie doesn't come around for dinner as much as he used to," Bill pointed out.

"He and Harry have been burning the candle at both ends at the Ministry," said Percy.

"Hmm-hmm," Ron nodded, engrossed in his scone, not looking up to see the stern looks on his brothers' faces. "More than we need to be, honestly. But because of Harry's saving-people-thing, he's always sure that the next case will end in disaster if the dark wizard isn't caught right now, and of course he would be lost without me, so whenever he's working overtime I am too." He shrugged.

"Oh yes, I think we're all well aware how loyal you are to Harry," Charlie said darkly, "Even over other, older loyalties, as a matter of fact."

"Charlie…." began their dad warningly.

Ron looked back up, and grew uncomfortable again when he saw that all of his family members were looking directly at him. Earlier, he had assumed that the awkward tension in the room was because he and Hermione had interrupted an important conversation, but it seemed to go beyond that, like they were pissed directly at him for something he had done.

"What's going—"

He was interrupted by his mother re-entering the house, holding the laundry with one hand and wiping tears from her eyes with the other. Hermione followed in shortly behind her, and Ron looked pointedly at his mother and gave his fiance a quizzical look, but Hermione just returned a confused, helpless shrug.

"The roast should be almost done now," said Molly happily, and waved her want to send a flurry of plates and cutlery flying to settle in front of where each of the Weasley men were sitting.

"And I'm such a terrible mother, I neglected something," chuckled Molly, and bent down to kiss the crown of Ron's head. "We all missed you, dear."

"Mum…" Ron grumbled awkwardly, but he saw his brothers look at each other with slightly guilty expressions, and as they followed their mother's lead, the atmosphere of the room became friendlier.

Charlie drew in a deep breath and sighed. "I need a drink."

"Excellent idea!" pipped George. He waved his wand and summoned a large bottle of firewhiskey from the cabinet along with several glasses, which zoomed right past Molly's face, causing her to jump and shriek.

"For the last time, only the cook can summon in the kitchen!" Molly scolded him, "I won't have this room devolve in complete chaos of flying objects until someone gets a concussion!"

"And I know you don't always act like it, but you are all of age," said Arthur, raising his eyebrows at George pouring several glasses of whiskey, "so I see no reason why you can't bring your own drinking supplies instead of raiding mine."

Molly huffed. "Well maybe it will be best if we stopped keeping that poison in the house—"

She stopped abruptly as they heard a faint pop from outside, coming from down the pathway, and Ron knew that Harry and Ginny must have arrived. Instead of beaming and rushing out into the garden to greet her two favorite children, however, Ron saw his mother gasp and a bit of the color drain from her face. His family members all looked at each other with that same expression he first saw when he came into the room.

Charlie gave a low growl and picked up a glass. "Yup. Definitely need a drink."

#hinny ficfest #hinny fanfiction #hinny fluff #romione #hinny #hinny fanfic #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #harry and ginny #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #romione fanfic #harry x ginny #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

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ushidoux · 4 years

Text

Be My Last - Iwaizumi x Reader (Pt. 2)

Summary: You have trouble getting over a past relationship and it’s preventing you from moving forward. (~2.3k words)

Warnings: nsfw, poor communication tbh, angst?

A/N: There’s always trouble in paradise....

So I haven’t written a plot-heavy fic in a while. Anyway, I hope this is as dramatic as I intended it to be but not excessive.

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

---

Your phone vibrated loudly, nearly falling off the edge of your office desk but before checking the text, you were already scooping your personal items into your messenger bag and rising to leave the office.

Iwa had intended to meet you after work to grab dinner together before going home, and you quickly glanced at your phone to confirm his arrival while you made your way down multiple flights of stairs (turns out having an athletic trainer as a boyfriend made you a lot more fitness-conscious) to meet him in front of the large skyscraper.

You met him only slightly out of breath, hoping he hadn’t waited long, and he grinned as he saw you, arms uncrossing to take your bag from you and greet you with a kiss on the forehead.

“How was today? More good news?” You inquired cheerfully, linking your arm around his tightly as you started walking. He hummed, his pace still leisurely and his other hand casually resting in his pocket in mock humility.

“What, I haven’t impressed you enough?” He teased with a laugh, earning him a playful slap on the shoulder. Learning that he was going to be head athletic trainer for the Japan National Volleyball Team just last week was still fresh, and while you were excited for him, you were a tiny bit apprehensive about how much it would change his schedule. Even though he was already quite busy, you’d gotten used to Iwa’s schedule being predictable and being home every night, especially once he’d moved in with you about a year into your relationship.

While this new position was the biggest event on the horizon, quite a lot had changed since you’d met Hajime and lowered your emotional defenses to let him in, and that simple fact was evident by the way your hand unconsciously snaked down the length of his arm to interlace your fingers with him, as you continued to tell each other about your days.

He’d always impressed you from the very moment you met him. His confidence, his pure kindness and his genuine love for you were only a few of the things that made you love him wholeheartedly. The only regret that you had these days was that you hadn’t met him sooner, or rather, first.

Now, back in the quiet of the apartment you’d lived in for almost four years now, you and Iwa were locked in an embrace shrouded by the steam of an excessively warm shower. Despite the fact that you felt heavy with a generous dinner, the current somewhat pleasant turning of your stomach had more to do with the expert way Iwa’s fingers worked your center without compromising attention to your lips and tongue.

Soft moans of his name earned you the privilege of being gently lifted and pressed back against the shower tile, to leverage you steadily against the pressure of his heavy cock pushing past your walls into you as many times before.

He always knew where to touch and what to fill.

It occurred to you again as he coaxed one orgasm then another out of you with firmly delivered strokes, aided by the slick coming from your legs and the water that ran over the two of you, that you loved him. Fully and without reservation.

Especially when he pulled back to look at your flustered, wanting face, slightly tilted upwards to look at him with eyes enamored, your body fitting him like a glove, and you could practically see his heart swell.

A reckless, all-encompassing sort of love.

---

“This is… a lot of food,” your friend pointed out with raised eyebrows as she watched you toss possibly a 15th packet of thinly sliced marbled beef for shabu shabu in your cart before moving along to the condiment section. You were grateful that she was accompanying you on this errand because even though you enjoyed grocery shopping, it seemed like you’d been here for a lot longer than you expected and you weren’t too familiar with most of the ingredients on the long grocery list you’d brought with you.

Besides, the cart was overfilled and you felt that eventually you’d need two hands to push it.

“Iwa wants to invite I don’t know even know how many hungry athletes into our tiny apartment, so I’m just trying to be prepared,” you shrugged.

“By buying the entire butcher shop?”

“Yes.”

“He better be paying at least, this looks expensive,” she murmured, only to open her mouth in a teasing ‘O’ once you flashed Iwa’s credit card in her face with a grin.

Amused, she tossed a pack of vermicelli noodles in the cart then let out a loud, wistful sigh before leaning on the shopping cart handle. You frowned in response, knowing exactly what that sound entailed.

“So when did Oikawa say he’d be back?”

She let out an aggravated groan. “Not for months and then by the time the Olympics start, he’ll be even more busy… This shit is so annoying, to be honest. It’s like he’s never off season!”

You tiptoed to reach a highly placed bottle of shoyu and another of rice vinegar and drop it in your cart. You sympathized with her frustration, you had known intimately once what it was like to be made second priority, even if that wasn’t your life now.

“At least you know he would still choose you over volleyball, no matter how much he loves it,” you reassured her.

You had said the statement without any deeper intended meaning, but when you turned your friend was still eyeing you carefully, concern written in her knit eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she replied, deciding to drop it. But two paces later, she paused to a standstill, and asked, “Do you know exactly who Iwa is inviting over?”

You shrugged your shoulders again. “Honestly, I don’t care, it’s not like I follow sports anymore.”

To that, she replied with a soft hum of assent before choosing to talk about dessert instead.

---

Seated at a corner table at the small coffee shop at the base of his hotel, Ushijima Wakatoshi looked carefully at the email invitation, noting the address more carefully this time, a wash of unsettling nostalgia rushing over him.

You wouldn’t notice it from the neutral expression on his face, but ever since he had made it back to this side of Tokyo, the concern of going back in time and revisiting old mistakes weighed heavy on his mind. Of course, he was excited about his new accolades and the opportunity to represent his country nationally, but with few people to share that news with, the reminder of what he had sacrificed to get here seemed less like a badge of honor and more like a condemnation.

For someone who insisted on moving forward, no matter what the pace or price, this was a particularly unwelcome feeling.

And of course, this sentiment was made way worse when it occurred to him that he was being invited to his old home as a guest. Well, he wasn’t exactly sure - while the apartment building itself was definitely the same one where he had lived so many years ago, he wasn’t completely sure whether or not the floor and suite number were the same. It would be an odd coincidence that Iwa lived there too now, but it was a nice apartment building after all, so he assumed it must be a popular place to live.

Still, he couldn’t help the mild uneasiness he felt at the prospect of turning up on that street.

What if by some unfortunate twist of fate, he ran into you? Whether in the lobby, sharing the elevator, maybe even in passing at the konbini where previously he’d surprise you with a custard taiyaki or melon bread to eat in the dead of night... What would he say? What could he say?

He had once practiced some silly assortments of words, many times ages ago when the ache in his heart for you became too much to bear and he thought maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too selfish to ask to come back into your life. He would come up with ways to explain why he’d decided it was better to remove himself from your life altogether over putting aside more time for you, or to explain that he’d made the decision for both of you in order to free you to be loved properly by someone else.

But the more time passed, the more ridiculous it seemed for him to try to ask you to forgive him for breaking your heart, and now three years had gone by.

Was three years enough time for you to forgive him for ending things without explanation? Or for moving out of your apartment while you stayed over your best friend’s house for an entire weekend so that he wouldn’t see you cry?

Ushijima took another sip of his coffee. He was overthinking it; the similar address was just a happenstance. You had probably long since moved on from that apartment just like you’d moved on from him.

---

Paper plates, forks, knives and napkins were set aside on your living room table, and you’d cleaned out the patio to allow for more space on the thankfully warm spring evening. Iwa had rushed out with a kiss on the cheek to go get some ice after helping you set up everything, and now you were waiting, hotpot soup base boiling on the stove.

You’d finished just a half an hour before six, and you leaned over the kitchen counter to browse through your text messages. One had just popped up from your friend before you heard an early knock on the front door.

Surprised at the prospect of someone showing up early, you put down your phone and sauntered over, and without even checking the keyhole to see who was standing there, you swung open the door wide, cheerfully giving a warm “Welcome!”, only to find yourself staring your ex-boyfriend in the face.

There was a pause where it seemed like everything that kept your heart beating and your neurons firing had turned off for the split second it took you to recognize him. This was disregarding the fact that he too looked like all the blood had drained from his face when he also realized you were standing right before him.

“___…,” he pronounced in shock.

The sound of his voice calling your name made your heart pound and your head pound and quickly, impulsively, you moved to slam the door.

Reflexively, he blocked it with his palm, not meaning it as aggression, but spurred by the fear of immediately being locked right back out of your life, where he belonged.

“Wait, can we please talk?”

The desperate tinge to his voice was too much to bear.

It had been three fucking years! Why now?

But instead of forcing the door closed against him again, you found yourself running into your bedroom and locking the door behind you, heart pounding in your ribcage in a frenzy. It was hard to think, maybe you were being a little bit too dramatic, but you couldn’t help the panic pumping through your veins.

Relax, relax, relax.

Ushijima, too, immediately forgot that this was no longer his home.

Even if he knew this place like the back of his hand, he recognized the same sofa in the center of the living room, where he’d held you and had you just like every other place in this wretched space, it was no longer his.

It didn’t stop him from breaching the entrance without your invitation, boldly following after you just to knock on the bedroom door that kept you safe and secure, begging for your attention.

“Please, ___. Please, can we talk?”

It didn’t take a genius to realize that he was in fact in the right place, this was his - no, your shared apartment - and traces of another man, Iwaizumi, were all over it.

Your voice was choked up in your throat but you weren’t yet crying, however you were terribly frustrated. Frustrated that three years after a breakup you were taking shelter in your own bedroom all because your ex showed up at your door. Frustrated that he wasn’t being mean, but instead he was being kind; in fact, you were worried there was a wisp of something more you could see in the pained look he had on first regard.

Too much.

Ushijima knocked again.

“Please.”

The correct thing to do would be to face him properly and ask him to take a seat and maybe if you were feeling extra generous, ask him how he was doing politely, limiting yourself to polite conversation, but instead you didn’t say a single word, biting your lip to hold back anger and hurt.

Three years and you were still like this.

“___!”

His voice raised this time, and again the desperation was clear and tugging at your heartstrings, but you would be damned if you were going to move from this spot. He didn’t bang on the door though - Ushijima always had too much self control to do anything fear-provoking out of anger, but he let out a heavy sigh you could hear directly from the other side of the door.

“I’m sorry-”

Whatever he planned to say was cut short by the slam of the front door and Iwa’s harsh voice yelling, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Your eyes grew wide as you heard the shuffle of quick moving feet and the thud of bodies hitting the wall, and then you realized that what this looked like was way worse than it actually was.

You fumbled to unlock the door only to see Ushijima pressed against the wall, hands to his side but fists clenched as though he were deciding whether to fight back; you could tell Iwa had already landed a heavy blow from the red spot blooming on his face, and the fact that Iwa still had a solid grip on the collar of Ushijima’s shirt, his fist still dangerously close to his face.

“Hajime!” You yelled, pulling at his arm. “Stop!”

He resisted your plea for him to stop initially, and you could tell he was seething even if he was still. Who wouldn’t be, if they thought their girlfriend was being accosted in their own space?

“T-toshi wasn’t going to do anything… we’re exes.”

Exes?

Iwa gave you a blank look, taking in the info all at once, but what stunned him the most at this very instant was the painfully familiar way you’d said Ushijima’s name.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwa x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #mae.writing #haikyuu smut #not sfw #haikyuu x reader #series: be my last

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minniepetals · 4 years

Text

Rose & Thorns: 07

— summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst / fluff / poly!au / fantasy!au / dragon!au

— word count: 7.5k

— warnings: hurt and comfort

╰ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

"Prince Taehyung? If you're the head of the nursery nest, how are you able to take care of me?"

"Because this is my part time job," the dragon told you while mixing herbs with a light spirit. "I've always had the tough decision to choose between watching over the whelps or being able to heal my whole clan which are both an honor to do but in the end I chose to be a guardian of the little ones."

"Really?" You stared in fascination from where you sat on the bed. "What made you choose the whelps?"

"Baby dragons are adorable, dear Y/N," he laughed cutely. "Kinda like you."

You blinked, not expecting such a bold comment as your face began heating up. "L-like me?"

"Yup," Taehyung nodded as if it wasn't uncommon to say such a thing.

"But, how?" You asked, even more flustered because he was so casual about it. "I thought baby dragons aren't able to transform into their human forms until they've aged into a more mature age."

"They can't but they're still cute and you're cute too so they remind me of you."

Cute.

He was probably the first person to ever compliment your looks — well, Jinyoung did it before but he was rude about, someone you didn't really feel comfortable to hear words out of. Yet with Taehyung, you felt more at ease hearing the compliment coming out from his mouth.

"Hey, when you get better, want to come visit the roosts with me? They'll love you, I just know it."

Though flattered, you tilted your head in confusion at the excited boy. "How would you know?"

"No one is born with hate, dear Y/N," Taehyung told you with a voice that was calmer and sincere, "we only learn to hate because the people around us has taught us to do so. Maybe that's why you only love."

Love.

"Your parents must have been the sweetest, huh? To raise such a sweet child who doesn't know how to hate?"

You smiled at his soft words as you looked down at your hands. "They had...the sweetest love for one another," you remembered. "Mother had always been ill but she risked her health even more by giving birth to me. Father never gave up hope though, he was always there for the both of us. They've always taught me to look on the bright side to things, to people, and know that if there's a dark side, there is always going to be light. Like the moon. Father left us sooner than we expected but even then Mother never lost sight of her love and hope for me. I always blamed myself for making her health worse but she's always told me that I was a gift and that the world will one day reward me if I continued being kind and gentle."

"And you believed her."

"Of course." You smiled. "One day the world will see," a sigh left you, "hopefully."

"It will." You hadn't realized Taehyung had gotten up from his spot to walk on over to you until he took your hands into his larger ones, stroking it with such gentleness. "One day you'll find happiness and people who will give you the same amount of love as you have given the world."

"You really think so?" You asked him with bits of doubts, unsure and worried, timid and afraid.

Taehyung gave you a sweet smile as he squeezed your hands. "I know so."

When he looked at you, he could see a beautiful rose waiting to bloom. The rain had already given you enough of itself, now you just needed light in your life in order to grow from your budding state.

"One day, Y/N, one day soon."

"Jungkook?" You called upon his name softly, gently, a soothing voice he wanted to hear forever. Was it wrong to want to hold you? Was it wrong to want to take all your pains away so that you could never understand what hurting meant? Was it wrong to want to love you?

His eyes continued gazing out from the balcony, watching his clan from below while he replied with a soft hum. He loved his mates, loved ruling the clan alongside them, so perhaps it was indeed wrong to want another by his side when he already had six. Jungkook felt so selfish but a part of him didn't want to admit to his wrongdoings, didn't want to admit that the feelings he felt for you were wrong.

He didn't want for it to be wrong.

You deserved someone to love you in turn for the world's forsaken kindness and he wanted to be that person — or maybe one of them?

Was that wrong? For him to want his hyungs to see what he saw in you so that they wouldn't hurt if he ever did confessed the things he felt for you to them? He knew he could never confess to you, not before letting his hyungs know and getting their permission. They mattered as much as you did.

"You're lucky, you know."

"How so?" He asked.

"To have a love so sweet and beautiful," you breathed. "I don't think I've ever seen such a love so pure. Your hyungs all care about you, the same way you worry and care for them. It's something many will envy, you know, you should never lose that love."

Jungkook knew his love was pure, always knew he'd never want to leave any of his hyungs and would want to spend all of his life with them by his side. "Really?" yet he asked, curious for how you perceived their relationship in your eyes.

You nodded. "You'd do anything for them, wouldn't you?"

"I would," he confirmed.

Your gaze fell with a genuine smile, a little envious of the beautiful love but more happy for him than anything. He deserved such a love, they all did. Your hand reached up to trace along the scar that held just slightly away from your heart, an arrow you had taken because you saved Jungkook and brought him back to his home.

And now? Perhaps now it was your turn to find your own home.

"When I am all healed and can walk on my own without support of another, I am planning on taking my leave from this clan."

Jungkook's head was quick to snap your way and you almost flinched at the abrupt moment. His eyes widened, brows a little furrowed as if he couldn't believe what you had just said. "What?" He asked, words a little too soft, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid he heard it right.

But you sent him a smile despite the fear in his eyes, despite the little stab in your heart and a little moment of relief from the way he looked as if hurt to hear you wanted to leave. You felt glad for just a moment. "Home isn't a specific destination, it's where your heart lies, where you feel safe, loved and protected. You've found that within the arms of the other princes, and I have yet to find my own but I don't believe my home lies here."

Why not, he almost said it aloud.

Almost.

But he had almost forgotten that you weren't his, you didn't love him in the same way he was falling for you. He had almost forgotten that if he were to ask those two words, he'd sound desperate and you'd wonder why. You wanted your own home and you didn't feel it through him or anyone in the clan.

If he were to ask the question aloud, it'd be an even more selfish wish upon wanting you to stay despite the fact that he knew he couldn't have you.

So knowing that, knowing he couldn't keep you forever even if it meant just watching you from afar in hopes of your heart being his, he let his head process the whole thing, nodding slowly though reluctantly.

"I see," was all he could utter out in a low whisper.

Deep down, he hated it, he didn't want to accept it.

But he had to.

"What's wrong?"

Yet no matter how easy it was to hide his feelings from you, it could never go past the ones that did loved him back, the ones that had known him for much, much longer.

"Nothing," he tried to say.

"You're lying, Jungkook," Seokjin said with eyes that grew with more concern because they had set a promise to tell each other everything and Jungkook, out of them all, wasn't one to break promises.

They all watched their youngest lover while he stared into an empty space, past the plate of food that hadn't been touched since dinner started.

Jungkook wanted to show them that he was okay, he didn't want to hurt them because of the things he felt for you, but he knew that he was going to have to tell them the truth one day. But did it have to come so fast? Was there really a need to tell them so soon? He didn't want to.

But they weren't going to have him going to bed restless with that frown on his face, not without a talk first.

He didn't want to talk. Yet he knew he had to.

And for that, his heart fell. "I'm sorry," he breathed almost inaudibly before swallowing a big lump that rested in this throat and blinked quickly at the tears that threatened to escape.

He stood up from his seat, ignoring the concern in his hyung's voices as they called after him. Jungkook kept walking away, not wanting them to see his tears though he knew fully well that he could never hide from his mates. They knew him more than anyone, loved him more than the universe itself.

But the thought of speaking up and inevitably hurting them even further than he had already done so, Jungkook didn't want to face them just yet, he didn't want to be selfish.

"Jungkook?" The eldest called upon his name softly while his heart dropped at the sight of Jungkook in the bedroom, curled up in one of the corners as he tried his best not to cry while hugging his knees. He looked so weak, so vulnerable and the sight was enough for them all to want to do absolutely anything to make their youngest mate smile again.

"It's Y/N, isn't it?" Namjoon guessed, his voice gentle as he tried his best to assure Jungkook that just the name alone wasn't going to make him resent anything. Weeks before, he would have hated it, but after your sacrifice, Namjoon couldn't bring himself to hate you even if he wanted to.

He didn't want to now.

"I'm so sorry," the youngest prince squeaked. So, so scared. Afraid not just for them but for his own feelings that had kept growing and growing. He didn't know whether to feel guilty or not. Jungkook didn't know what to do at all.

Jimin began to hush him gently as he took a seat beside him, placing his young mate's head against his chest. "We're not upset at you, Jungkookie," he reassured. "What are you worried about, hm?"

He cried into Jimin's chest, the sounds echoing into the room which broke their hearts. "She says...says she's going to..-to leave after she heals." A few minor hiccups. "And I don't want her to leave. I don't want Y/N to leave. She saved my life."

"And she saved mine," Namjoon nodded, acknowledging the fact with a soft understanding. But as he knelt in front of Jungkook and took his hands into his, Namjoon squeezed it with a tight smile on his face. "But this is her choice, Jungkook, we can't make the decision for her."

"I-I know but..-"

He knew, knew more than anyone that he'd rather let you leave in peace and with a smile rather than to stay in the clan feeling like you'd never belong. You wanted to find a place that would accept you, a place that would love you just as you had loved the world. And maybe that'd take a while, not because of you, but because people had yet to understand of your true pure nature.

But ever since learning the fact that your former village had never liked you, Jungkook always wanted to protect you despite the position he was in. You became the keeper of the dragon, the keeper of him. You kept him company, spoke of stories after stories so that he didn't have to be alone in that cave, brought him food each morning, stole blankets to keep him warm, and risked your own life to help him escape so that he could return home.

The scar left upon your left chest, a scar that will always remain no matter how much time will pass, will always remind him of what you have done for him.

He felt so, so guilty. He loved you yet he felt so useless and unworthy of loving you. You saved him yet what had he done for you? He couldn't protect you from when his hyungs had once hated you to such an extent, he couldn't make you feel better when you were left trapped in the dungeons. It was Jimin who had helped you out. And he hadn't been there to protect you when you fell from that cliff along with Namjoon, left to only destroy himself over the fact that he couldn't do anything.

"Why can't I be the one to save her just as she had done for me?" Jungkook asked in a small weak voice and Namjoon's eyes fell.

You were always the one on the hurting end, the one to sacrifice your own happiness for someone else's.

"I want to save her too, hyung."

But would you let him?

"Oh, you're um, up early."

You looked over at the sound of Hoseok's voice and found the dragon flying just a few feet away, surprised you were up earlier than the sun. He looked like a beautiful creature from where you stood, golden eyes similar to that of Jungkook's, contrasting Seokjin who held the eyes of the moon.

You wondered what colors the others held.

"I can say the same thing to you, prince Hoseok."

He smiled with his head beckoning over towards the higher grounds of the mountain leading outside. "I'm in charge of the early patrol this morning, gotta be extra early to get ready. And you?"

You hesitated for a moment before replying. "I couldn't sleep well the night before."

"Why's that?" He asked and you gave a light shrug.

"I guess I had too much to think about last night."

Hoseok fell silent for a moment as he thought back to Jungkook who couldn't sleep as well because even the thought of you leaving had broken their youngest mate's heart. A part of him wanted to understand what the feelings were, but another part of him felt conflicted because he didn't understand.

And what about the others?

He could see it in Jimin, the soft care he had for you, taking in everything he learned about you and holding that dear to his heart. Seokjin grew a soft spot for you too, he could tell. He was no longer grumpy about having to take care of you and most days he'd willingly take over Taehyung's nursing for you when Namjoon wasn't in much of need. And Namjoon was beginning to care as well. After you saved him and he held you close while you finally broke down for the first time, you also became a soft spot for him.

The rest of them, him, Taehyung, and Yoongi had yet to figure it out but something told him it wasn't going to be hard.

"Thinking can be good but sometimes it gets a little overwhelming. Clear your mind, Y/N, be at peace." You stared at him with confusion as if you didn't know how to do that. A light chuckle escaped his lips. "I know a great way to take your mind off of things."

"What's that?"

"I'll show you," Hoseok offered. "It's right on the highest point of the mountain but don't worry, we don't have to venture any further than that." He could tell you were still afraid and in fear after the attack. "Want to come with me?"

You hesitated for a moment but then thinking about it, you guessed being left by yourself all the time wasn't at all a good thing and perhaps Hoseok would be able to get your mind off of things so you nodded at the prince. "May I?"

He smiled sweetly. "Climb on."

It was a little more difficult than not having someone else hold you while you got on a dragon's back but you made it towards the highest point of the mountain nonetheless.

When you got down from his back, you walked cautiously towards the edge of the mountain, staring in awe at the sight in front of you. It was as beautiful and exciting as when you were with Seokjin and it felt like you were on top of the world. The Earth was vast and fascinating in ways you could never find the right words to describe, but in your heart, you felt like owning it all.

The love and divine land of Earth.

From where you stood beside Hoseok who had already shifted back to his dragon form, your eyes could only focus on the sun breaking through the endless white clouds, its streaks stretching onto the vast land and gifting the earth with its mesmerizing bright yellow and orange rays.

"You're so lucky," you told the man beside you. He tilted his head just slightly and you answer his unspoken question. "The world is so much more beautiful when you're looking from the sky. I've always only lived looking at the Earth from the grounds and though it can be beautiful in its own way, it's nothing compared to this sight you get to witness everyday."

Hoseok smiled. "Having wings has its benefits," he said, nodding, "but it's nothing if you can't share it with the ones you love."

"Hence you are even more lucky for that."

Hoseok was silent for a moment, eyes only focused on the view in front of him but his mind consisted of you. "Where will you go, Y/N?" He asked and you look away from the view for a brief moment.

"I don't know," you admitted, "but the world is vast. I'm sure I'll belong somewhere."

"What if you belonged here?"

You smiled softly. "I wouldn't mind. But I'm a human."

"So what?"

"It's tiring, prince Hoseok."

He looked at you. "What's tiring?"

You sat yourself down on the ground and he followed, eyes never straying from you. "Everything, Hoseok," you told him. "I'm so tired."

And you did looked tired. Not like the tiredness where all you had to do was take a nice good rest — though that would be ideal too — but the kind of tiredness that left you deprived of energy and love. You were tired of keeping up, trying to prove to others of your worth, and a part of him knew that it was partly their fault.

You were just another person capable of anything they were, yet because of stigmas and the way dragons and humans didn't naturally get along, you were hated for a reason no one had yet to find out. You were kind and gentle, soft and sweet. You saved their youngest prince when you didn't have to. You betrayed your own kinds for a dragon that felt more human to you than anyone else you've met back in that village. Yet even after all that sacrifice, you still had to face discrimination and loneliness that you didn't deserve of.

"Come here," was what Hoseok said in response. You looked over at him with some confusion while he gestured for you to scoot in closer to him, patting at his lap. "Rest, Y/N."

You hesitated. "You're a prince."

"That's only a title," he insisted. "Now come."

You shifted towards him and slowly laid your head against his lap. Before long, you felt soft, long fingers running along your hair and the soothing touches were beginning to make your eyes droopy. Hoseok did that often to the younger ones when they felt uneasy and just needed time to stop everything and rest. He was used to it, to taking care of others when they needed it most and always being able to tell.

The two of you remained there in silence but you didn't mind it. There was no need for exchange of words, his actions alone told you that he wanted to make it better for you, to make things easier and that you could always rely on him if you needed.

Hoseok knew he should have already gotten ready for the morning patrol but right there in that moment with you, he also understood that it was far more important to keep you company. Maybe the others will be alarmed when they figured their patrol leader wasn't going to show up, or find you missing from the medicine nest. But for the time being, all he cared about was letting you have your rest.

"Is Y/N with you?" Taehyung asked the moment Jungkook flew in and transformed himself back into a human.

The maknae's brows furrowed with alarm. "Why would she be with me? Where is she?"

"I-I don't know," the older man quickly began to panic. "I thought that if she wasn't here, the first option would be that she'd be with you."

"Have you checked with the others?"

"No."

"Hoseok's missing too. He hasn't shown up to the morning patrol," Jungkook quickly informed before returning to his dragon form and flying out.

Taehyung spat out a curse as he followed his younger mate from just behind, both heading towards the castle to see if the others had seen the two of you. Yet when they both realized that the others had also not seen you nor Hoseok around, it only worried them further.

"Maybe they're out together," Jimin tried to suggest.

"That early?"

He shrugged when Jungkook doubted.

"He's supposed to be out for the morning patrol."

"Maybe it was an emergency and Y/N needed some fresh air, let's not panic alright?" Namjoon said, stepping up to try and calm things down.

"Hoseok won't leave the mountain right before a patrol even for something like that," Yoongi pointed out as he thought about it. He knew Hoseok a little more than the rest because they grew up together, as close as soulmates could be. Kind of similar to the relationship between Jimin and Taehyung.

So he also shared something with Hoseok, a place they often went to when they needed to take a break — or in this case, for you to take a break.

Perhaps Hoseok had brought you there.

"You look like you know where they might be," Seokjin interpreted and with a light nod and a glance Jimin's way, he sped off in his dragon form.

"I thought you might be here," Yoongi noted the second he flew down and returned to his human form, finding you lying against Hoseok's lap. He kept his voice low (though it wasn't with much effort because Yoongi was usually quiet), and looked at the two of you. "Is she alright?" He asked and Hoseok shrugged lightly.

"She's tired," he stated. "Tired of many things."

"I would be too," Yoongi nodded. "It's surprising she's held on for this long."

"She's used to it, I guess." Hoseok's eyes fell down to your form, watching you with a soft gaze as you breathed in with a slow pace, clearly deep in the sleep that you needed. "It's sad, isn't it? Knowing that we were one of the reasons to cause her distress?"

"We can change, Hoseok," Yoongi told him, "it isn't too late."

It wasn't too late.

Nothing was ever too late, for Yoongi knew that it was better to be late than never so when Hoseok looked up and their eyes met, a mutual gaze of understanding tied them together like soulmates and Hoseok smiled.

"You set off a panic, by the way."

He raised a brow. "Did I now?"

Yoongi chuckled and Hoseok joined in just imagining the maknae line worrying over nothing too serious. "You can apologize later, just head to your morning patrol. I'll take Y/N back," Yoongi offered and when Hoseok nodded, the older man kneeled down next to you, joining Hoseok in waking you up.

"Hey, little one," the younger one cooed as he lightly brushed his finger against the tip of your nose. Your face scrunched up cutely and they chuckled at your little whines of protest. "Time to wake up."

You opened an eye, frowning with an adorable pout. "You can sleep some more when we return to the nest," Yoongi informed and you look between him and Hoseok in confusion. "Hoseok has a morning patrol," he answered your unspoken question.

"I'll be back, don't worry."

Why did everything feel so soft all of a sudden?

Just minutes before when Hoseok had first approached you you weren't feeling all that great, thoughts running all over the place while your heart weighed heavily against your chest. Everything felt overwhelming but now? With both Yoongi and Hoseok there, something about their presence made it better.

You couldn't pinpoint why but you liked it. A lot.

"Come on," Yoongi encouraged and picked you up in his arms. Still sort of half asleep, you took advantage of your hazy thoughts to snuggle in close to him.

It felt wrong yet so right at the same time and Yoongi only held you closer. You couldn't remember ever seeing Yoongi acting gentle towards you before but it was fine. More than fine. And you liked it.

Liked it a lot.

And when he brought you back, the only thing you could remember — besides his gentle hold — was the bright moon that held his dragon eyes.

"They're going to love you so much!"

When you asked Taehyung to meet the whelps, he had been so excited to let you visit the nursery nest where all the baby dragons resided, yet there was one thing he was certainly not prepared for.

The overwhelming cuteness overload due to the combination of you and the babies.

All you did was say hi to a little baby dragon just four years of age and the next thing you knew, the remaining whelps were quick to surround you at all sides and Taehyung watched from the sideline, watched your soft smile that grew so bright and brilliant as the babies all asked for you to pick them up because they've never seen someone as pretty as you before.

He stood there by himself leaning against the entryway, not minding the peace he was finally given because the babies did adored him too, and now that they had someone else to play with, his presence was nothing more than invisible because of you.

But he was happy to just stand there and watch.

You looked so happy and soft, being so gentle and sweet towards the babies that he couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering in his tummy just watching you surrounded by them. He never knew he'd love it that much but he did.

It was only when a little one tried to climb on you and accidentally touched the shoulder that was still in the process of healing did Taehyung finally step in to make his presence known. You were too kind to push the little one away but he heard you wince.

"Careful with her," he warned in a gentle chiding voice and everyone looked up with exciting eyes at the familiar caregiver of the whelps. But Taehyung paid no mind to them just yet as he walked over to carry the little baby that was hoping to grab your attention by climbing on top of you. He met your eyes with a soft concerning gaze. "You okay?"

Before you could give him an answer, the whelps were already bombarding the two of you with questions filled with concerns, worrying for you.

"Is noona alright?"

"What happened?"

"Did someone hurt her?"

You gave out a soft chuckle as you shook your head lightly. "I'm alright, I'm alright," you assured them all.

"But you little ones have to be careful around her, okay?" Taehyung chided softly again with pointed fingers going around at each of them. "She heroically saved Namjoon and hurt herself so she needs time to heal. Her shoulder is injured."

Their mouths gaped, eyes widened, and their wings and tails flipped around with excitement just from hearing what Taehyung had just said.

"You saved our leader?"

"You saved prince Namjoon?"

"Wow, noona is so cool!"

"How-?"

"When?"

"I didn't..-" you cleared your throat as you sent Taehyung a pout to his exaggeration, embarrassed for yourself now. But he only giggled. "I didn't save him," you emphasized to the little ones.

"She's being too humble."

"What? No, I-"

"So no matter what she says, just know that Y/N is pretty and kind and if someone ever bullies her, you have to be the big and mighty dragons you are to protect her okay?" He instructed them all and when you try to protest again, a little dragoness, the one who Taehyung had picked up to rest against his hold, spoke up before you can.

"But I'm not big and mighty," she said to the prince with cute pouting eyes as if disappointed she wouldn't be able to protect you when the time ever came. "I wanna protect unnie."

How cute they were to already have such a bond with you even though it hadn't even been a day. But Taehyung was fond of it and wanted to take advantage of it, so he gave her a sweet smile before poking at her little nose. "You are strong and courageous and if the prince says you are mighty enough to protect someone else then you believe his words without a doubt," he told her then turned to the rest to echo the same thing to the doubtful ones and you watched him with a gentle gaze.

He had the sun in his eyes as a dragon, like Jungkook and Hoseok, but as a human, they all shared the night sky and you couldn't help but wonder why it was so fascinating to you.

But you had to shake the thoughts away as the children brought your attention back on them, their eager selves declaring to protect you just as Taehyung had told them to.

It was wonderful, and Taehyung was right when he said that no one was born with hate. At first you had been afraid of visiting the little ones that would soon make fine warriors for the clan some day. You were afraid that they wouldn't accept you just as the older dragons.

But being there and finding yourself surrounded with love and laughter, your heart began to warm up and glow a beautiful sunlight's ray.

It felt nice for once, to not have to worry about judgement and needing to prove yourself to be accepted. Children always brought out the best in others because they were all born with love and only had love to share. They were too innocent to understand the evil part of the world, where hate and beliefs in society separated others and you were so happy for that.

Perhaps it wasn't all so bad, being there in the clan.

The prince's have all seemed to warm up to you, being much kinder than they were previously, and now you had admirers who wished to see you again the next day and other days to come.

"I'm telling you, the goblin is kind and sweet and handsome."

"Goblins can't-"

"You've never seen a goblin so you can't tell me what they should look like," you were quick to cut Jungkook off when he tried to tell you otherwise, a scolding expression on your face while he remained stubborn.

The four of you sat around in a circle where you resided, the three maknae dragon princes awaiting to hear one of your many stories, yet it was cut off too soon by Jungkook.

"You've never seen a goblin so you can't just say that they're nice and good looking," he countered. "No stories have ever said that they were nice and good looking."

"But this is my story, you can't base your facts off myths and fairytales," you pointed out a little more agressively as the argument began to rise and Jimin and Taehyung looked at one another, laughing silently. "What if myths and fairytales went on about dragons being ugly creatures and that they are nothing but mean and vicious?"

Jungkook frowned as he rolled his eyes. "There are already stories that base the facts off those ones."

"Exactly!" You argued. "You see how that's wrong? You can't just discriminate another creature just because you've been hearing the same rude things about them over and over again in stories and folktales. Their feelings could get hurt, you know."

The dragons laughed at how cute you were being. "So that's why your goblin is nice and handsome?" Jimin asked.

"Mmn!" You nodded without hesitation. "So stop interrupting me, Jungkook, because I really like this story. Father told me about it."

He settled down upon hearing the last sentence with a soft gaze. "Your father?"

Your smile grew just thinking back on it. "It was mother's favorite story. But he made the goblin ugly and I didn't like that so I changed that part of the story."

"Alright then," Taehyung leaned back to settle himself with a soft smile, "proceed."

"Right. As I was saying," you cleared your throat to begin the story again, hoping there will be no interrupting this time. "This story is about a handsome goblin, the goblin's bride, and a handsome grim reaper."

"Grim reapers-"

"Jungkook!"

The man could only laugh when you, Jimin, and Taehyung all shouted at him for interrupting you.

He loved it though, that moment right there, upon the lighthearted night that became a supposed sleepover with you returning to your beautiful glow. But he knew that right then and there was a much better time than when you were back in your village.

Your smile was genuine, everything felt genuine, even when you pouted and scolded at him for trying to interrupt. The memories of the cold nights in that dungeon made him shiver a little but he was glad for it, glad to have wondered off and gotten caught. After all, everything happened for a reason.

He met you. You became his light admist the night and set him free.

And even though not everything had been great when you came to his clan and you had to suffer for so long, being there in that moment while he stared at you telling your story with an intense passion, Jungkook wanted to believe that everything previous had all been worth it.

Because Jimin and Taehyung had joined him, wanting to hear your stories as well. And the other hyungs have gotten closer to you as well, smiling rather than giving you the glares like before. The clan had even began to warm up and the whelps loved you.

And you were smiling.

Genuinely.

He wanted to say that it was all worth it. That it was enough to convince you to stay.

He wanted you to stay.

"Tired?"

Seokjin didn't have to ask to understand that you were tired because just watching you from where you sat helping him with his herbal remedies made sense with the way your head kept dropping and eyes kept drooping.

"We ought to keep an eye out for you little ones when you have your game times," he chuckled.

"We weren't playing games," you told him with a big yawn. "They were just listening to me while I told them my stories and we lost track of time because they were that good."

"Really?" He grinned and you hummed with pride. "Then I think the whelps would love that, wouldn't they?"

"Would they?" You asked with interest, head perked up at just the suggestion alone.

"Everyone enjoys stories, Y/N," Seokjin said, "especially the little dragons. You should go to the roosts and surprise them with your presence, Taehyung told us they really love you."

A light hint of blush formed around your cheeks upon hearing Taehyung telling them about you and the little ones. "But..what about you?" You asked.

Seokjin turned around, tilting his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I like helping you out in the medicine nests but if I were to head to the roosts, won't that make you lonely?" You pointed out. "Taehyung has the whelps to keep him company, who will you have if I'm not here?"

It was so cute the way you were thoughtful for even just that and the eldest of the prince found himself smiling softly at your consideration. "No worries," he brushed it off lightly, "it is a much harder task trying to keep young dragons in line. Training them to one day become an apprentice of a warrior is not a task for just anyone and I think you have the gift of taking care of the little ones. We need that in our clan, you know."

He hoped it wasn't too straightforward but just enough to try and subtly tell you that he wanted you to stay with them in the clan. If you ever wanted to leave on your own accord then he hoped it would be because you just didn't feel it was your rightful home rather than because you just didn't feel needed.

And it wasn't just because his little maknae wanted you to stay and he wanted to make him happy, but it was also because Seokjin genuinely wanted you to remain in the clan.

He'd have a talk with Namjoon about it later on.

"You think I'm perfect for the job?" You asked him and he nodded.

"I know it."

"But being a healer isn't just for anyone either, you know," you told him. "Not everyone can listen well and do the tasks you tell them to do. Can't I do both?"

Seokjin chuckled. You were just too kind for your own good. "Maybe we can squeeze both in your schedule."

You sent him a bright smile that almost blinded him. "We sure can! I'll make sure of it. I'll help both you and Taehyung with no problems you won't have to worry about a thing."

Seokjin was ruined.

So, so ruined.

"Should we build bridges?" You looked up at Yoongi with a confused gaze but he went on. "Should I ask Namjoon if we should set up bridges to connect the nests together?"

"Bridges?" You asked.

"You know," he said, "so that it'd be easier for you to walk around rather than taking the long way around, traveling back and forth between the medicine nest and the roosts."

You eyed him carefully for a moment. You hadn't even started the jobs side by side and yet he already knew. "How often do you guys discuss about me?"

More often than we should, Yoongi wanted to say but he knew that wasn't appropriate just yet. Him and the guys have found themselves always talking about you whenever there was an opportunity, whenever discussions about the clans were over and the topic would almost immediately turn to you.

"I'm just saying," he shrugged off the thought, "it'd be a lot faster and efficient."

Yet you shook your head. "Don't bother. Building bridges would mean taking a few warriors out of their tasks and besides, I..."

You trailed off and Yoongi watched you.

"What?" He queried before stating bluntly, "still thinking about leaving?"

You could only shrug at his question before changing the subject. "Anyways, prince Seokjin asked me to collect some herbs for him and since I don't have wings like you guys, I came to you."

"To me?" He raised a brow, slight amusement falling upon his face.

"The patrols have already gone so I couldn't ask them to pick up some herbs or ask for a ride, prince Jimin has to keep watch of the dungeons, prince Taehyung has to watch the little ones, and prince Namjoon and prince Seojin are busy on their own."

"So you just assumed I wasn't busy myself?"

"No, I-" you stuttered to defend yourself, "I didn't mean that. I just didn't know who else to turn to. I'm not really used to the other dragons but if you're busy then-"

"I'm kidding, Y/N," he cut you off with a light chuckle, amused by your presence alone. "I'm free for an hour, no worries," he said as he stood up from where he was lying, stretching his limbs with a big yawn before jumping off to transform into the dragon he was. "Climb on," he beckoned and you smiled, jumping onto his back without hesitation unlike the first few times you've climbed onto a dragon's back, and the two of you rode the wind.

The sky felt safer that time around with no worries about another clan trying to invade your space because they had already been dealt with.

It always felt nice riding the back of a dragon that made you feel safe, as if you owned all of the lands and skies. You would have never imagined yourself feeling so free at that moment right there. Things were beginning to look up, the happiness and freedom blooming in your chest, warming your heart.

Yoongi had once been so cruel and coldhearted. They all were. But eventually they found themselves on the wrong side and decided to change their ways.

There was no need for apologies. Words were only empty thoughts unless actions were done about it. And they showed you through their acceptance and smiles that they were sorry for what they've said and done and that was all you needed.

But a part of you was still unsure about where you belonged.

Did you belonged with the dragons? Or was your fate to roam around the Earth, traveling on your own and seeking new discoveries and wonders?

You didn't know yet but sitting there on the back on Yoongi, you know you wouldn't mind it if your fate belonged with the dragons. After all, it wasn't just the princes that had begun to accept you, but the clan itself was beginning to warm up to you.

Seeing you with their young ones, the whelps who were all fond of you and took great pride in their vow of protecting you, or the way you'd go out of your way helping Seokjin out with his medicinal remedies as the prince had once been left alone to deal with the task, you thought of it as them beginning to see your true heart.

And you hoped you weren't wrong.

"Go on, I'll wait for you here."

With a basket in hand, you took off on your own while the dragon prince settled himself on the grounds of the forest, resting in his dragon form and closing his eyes.

You chuckled at Yoongi's typical drowsy self before going on to search for the herbs Seokjin had asked you to.

It took about a good twenty minutes to fill up your basket halfway yet just as you were about to search for some more feverfew, the voices of humans was what caused you to freeze up. It wasn't the fact that they were human, why would you be afraid of that when you were a human yourself? And you knew Yoongi could take care of himself if they were to ever catch him.

No.

It was so much more than that.

Because those voices? Especially the one that was loud and clear and held a sickening humor that brought chills down your spine, memories of the night you saved Jungkook and tried to run away with him came spiraling back almost instantly.

The angry voices of the villagers echoed in your ears, the arrow that had pierced against your chest, the scar still there and would never go away.

It was as if fate was playing with you, the same once fading memories returning to your side clear as a crystal just as you had taken a step forward into the world. Only for it to force you back to where you had once came from.

He took a step forward and you trembled in fear as you took two steps back, realizing who it was.

Jinyoung.

It was Jinyoung.

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thewildwaffle · 3 years

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Friends with Monsters - Part 2

A continuation of Part 1

Kind of short, but gives a bit about the captain's past. To come: helping to incorporate Medic Fehl in with the rest of the crew! How? Spoilers: large use of humans. ***

The translation of the word “stern” was interesting. In the Captain’s case, the universal translators categorized it as a proper name with relative background connotations added. Normally, the word itself might have some complications with translators since it was an Earth word with different meanings in different Earth languages. It usually depended on the speaker’s meaning. That was the beauty of the universal translators, after all. To the captain, his name was both a gift and a reminder. It was given to him as a small, anxious child, hardly old enough to fully remember the events that led to him being orphaned and being found and adopted by a human named Adalene Bauer. She had raised him with love, as her own child, making sure he had everything he could ever need. She had been married once when she was younger, but death had stolen her spouse away and she had never remarried. She raised Stern alone and helped him learn that his fears and his feelings of loss weren’t weaknesses, but could be a source of strength and compassion. In Adalene’s native tongue, stern translated to star. She always said that he was her little Sternenkind, her little star child. Another translation of stern in another of Earth’s languages was an adjective for being firm or strict. Years later, he’d been made captain of a small star-freighter at a remarkably young age. It certainly wasn’t the most glamorous ‘captain’ job, but he was still one of the youngest rerlut captains in history, and that was a lot to be proud of. He was fully qualified for the position, or at least, he was on paper. He was certainly lacking in experience, but he learned quickly and did his best with what was an admittedly raucous crew. His inexperience came into harsh reality, however, when his ship was attacked. He’d been too soft, too lenient with his crew, and they were caught unprepared. Almost half the freight was stolen, but more importantly, several crew members were seriously injured. He and his Chief Officer, a charming red biet named Marit fought off the pirates as valiantly as they could. For one short moment, it looked like they were going to drive their attackers back. But then the tide of the fight took a turn for the worst. They got as much of the crew to safety as they could, but then… Chief Officer Marit didn’t survive. They’d jumped in front of Stern and took a shot intended for him during the fight with the pirates.

After he’d woken up in the hospital a week later, he found out he was to be awarded some medal for his bravery. So was Officer Marit, posthumously. Honestly, the whole aftermath was a detached blur in his memory. He returned home to Earth to aid in his recovery. It took months to break out of the mental fog he’d felt so lost in after the attack. It was his mother who helped him decide to go back at all. “Sternenkind,” she had called him as she wrapped him in her arms one night as he sat outside staring blankly at the sky. Even even though he’d been a fully grown rerlut for years, his mother was and would always be large enough to hold him comfortably. They sat like that a while before either of them said anything. Stern had always been able to confide in his mother, but this time his words came only with great difficulty. When they did finally come, they were heavy with his regret, his sadness, and his guilt. His mother listened patiently to it all, crying with him and letting him get all he needed to say said. When he finally ran out of words, she began to recount the day he’d been promoted to captain. She’d been so proud. And then when she’d heard of the attack, how afraid she’d been. Her arms wrapped a bit tighter around him then. “Es hätte jedem passieren können,” she’d said. It could have happened to anyone. But it had happened to him, and he’d done the best he could with what he knew. No, he hadn’t done everything perfectly, but he was an imperfect being. He now had a choice, either stay and rust in his regret or get back out there and grow from this. “Aller anfang ist schwer,” she had told him. All beginnings are hard. His was especially, but she hoped that whatever he did, he’d do his best to honor Chief Officer Marit and always remember one thing: “Ich werde immer stolz auf dich sein, mein Sternenkind” I will always be proud of you, my Sternenkind. *** His past and the path he took since that time was on his mind as Stern returned to his office to deal with Ehot Irubin and the others involved in the incident in the med bay. A crew deserved and needed a captain who could be firm and strict, and whose commands were obeyed without question. He had to make sure he stayed that type of captain. As he approached his office, the quiet chatter between the three crewmates in question cut off. They shuffled away from the door as their captain approached and opened the door, entered, and motioned for them to follow. “Take a seat.” He sat as well and sighed, staring at them for a moment. Just long enough to make them squirm uncomfortably in their seats. “I do hope you understand just how inappropriate your behavior towards Medic Fehl was.” “Yes, captain,” the three of them responded in unison. All three of them were doing their best to look as dejected and contrite as possible, but Stern knew he had to push just how serious he was through their thick skulls. “Good,” Stern sighed. “Now, convince me why I shouldn’t end your careers and drop you all off at the nearest inhabited planet with dishonorable releases.” All three crewmates looked up and stared dumbstruck at him. “S-sir?” Ehot Irubin stammered out. Stern held their gaze with his own for a moment as he let his words sink in. “Let me tell you about this ship,” he said to break the stunned silence. “The HWSS Concordia. As an Ergeen Class liner, it’s one of the largest ships in the Galatea Trade Alliance fleet. Six warp engines, two synced hyperdrive cores, and a hauling capacity of nearly three hundred standard atmospheric liters of cargo.” He took a breath, making use of the small break to indulge in a bit of pride that this was the ship of which he was the captain. “As impressive as she may be,” he continued, his voice went low and dark, “this ship is nothing in comparison to the rest of the galaxy and all the dangers it holds. When the moment comes that it’s us against creation’s terrors, it’s the crew that will be standing at your side. I am the captain, and I have selected each crew member aboard this ship for a reason, whether they be ehot, human, or even arzhi. There is no room for debate, mistrust, or bigotry. Those will get us all very dead very quick. Do you understand?” Irubin and his companions nodded sheepishly. A subdued chorus of “Yes captain,” filled the office. “Good.” Captain Stern leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Now, unless you do want to be dropped off at the nearest inhabited planet, I’ve got some additional assignments for you.” The three crew members looked up, listening intently. “I want and need to eradicate any remaining hostility within this crew. You three are going to help me do just that.”

#humans are weird #space orcs #space #aliens #original writing #writeblr #captain stern #arzhi #medic fehl

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dindjarinbae · 4 years

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The Stars in Your Eyes (Din Djarin x Reader)

first of all, this is dedicated to @anakinshooker, because she gave me the softest little idea for a little Mando fic, in honor of the season 2 trailer’s release. i’m in big love with Mando, my Mando heart really melted with this one. this is really nothing but fluff, like the plot is just fluff.

TW: none, mentions of a cut.

WC: 4455

PART TWO HERE!!

You lived a fairly ordinary life, or at least you’d like to think so.

Naboo was a fairly normal planet, and that’s what you loved about it. You ran your flower shop and you came home each night and you went to bed and woke up to do the same thing, and you never grew tired of it. Maybe it was boring to some, but to you, it was everything. As a flower merchant, you had many fields to pick from, to frolic in, to buy flowers from, to arrange them, to sell them and spread joy. With just flowers? Yes. You were a believer that flowers could express so much.

So you were content spending your days with them, and you did not want that to change. Change was not your favorite thing, which is why you wanted things to be the same, with the flowers and Naboo, and each constant in your life.

Unfortunately that changed on a beautiful spring morning, two days before the solstice. You sat in your chair with your hands busy weaving a crown of flowers at your little flower shop on the corner of a sweet little street, when the door flew open, the bell above it dangling chaotically. Your eyes flew to the door and you stood, the flower crown falling to the table below.

No one stood in the doorframe, no one was outside near the shop, and no one besides you was inside the store. Or at least, it seemed that way for a brief second before you heard a small intake of air, and the output of that same air in the form of a happy coo. Your eyes dropped to the floor and they settled upon a pair of the biggest eyes you’d ever seen in your life. A child, and it could only have been a foot tall, waddled toward you, swathed in a big brown robe that swallowed his entire body, making his head seem ever so tiny, and his hands appear almost minuscule. It was the strangest child you’d see, green in color with big, long ears off the side of its tiny head, and a bit of fuzz on the top of said head.

You stepped away from the table and walked around the counter to the child, who was now reaching up for you with the most pathetic, three-fingered little grabby hands you had ever seen in your life. You took your time before picking him up, blinking and looking out the window behind him for anyone that might be searching for a little child. But there was no one.

So you bent down at the waist and grabbed him by his itty bitty torso and lifted the little creature into your arms, and to this, he had much to say. He began to babble in your arms and reach up for your hair, as if he had been looking for you after so long and he finally had this chance to catch up, like a chatty aunt.

“Where in the galaxy did you come from? Hm?” You asked and looked down at him, his big eyes narrowing just slightly, as if he had no idea what you were saying, and his babbling ceased. This question seemed to cause the small thing a bit of confusion, and he huffed a couple of times before he closed his hand around a handful of your hair. He didn’t have much more to say after you spoke, your question clearly vexing him and his happy little rant in gibberish, and you took the opportunity to walk outside your shop to look around for a moment, but as it was moments ago, no one seemed to be missing a child.

No one ever came, and it wasn’t like you could let the strange and adorable little alien go off on his own, so you brought him back inside and sat him down on the tabletop where your flowers and flower crowns laid. He seemed to take a liking to these, because he picked one up with his chubby little hands and he studied it the best way a child can: with his mouth. You fussed over this and pulled the flower from his mouth, the pretty yellow blossom becoming a bit withered with the level of manhandling it had just experienced. But the kid seemed to find this funny, your bewilderment, and he giggled and reached for the flower in your hands again. And though you wanted to be annoyed, the giggle that came out of his little mouth was enough to bring the happiest of smiles to your face.

So the day was spent like this, you and a lost child, playing with flowers, tending to customers, and giggling. Giggling and smiling and messing around in the little shop. The sweet innocence of the day almost made you forget about the kid being lost and how no one came looking for him. He sat on the counter with a little cup of fruit that you had put together for him and he was making a bit of a mess on his face, while you tried to figure out what to do with the little guy. So you took him home, just for the night, you told yourself. You’d find his home tomorrow.

But that didn’t happen.

You spent the night giggling and smiling and giggling and smiling and even more giggling and smiling with that little creature, before you two finally tuckered out. The baby laid sleeping against your shoulder while you read and his little snores and grunts were enough to return the smile to your face, and soon enough, you were ready to sleep yourself.

Your routine had changed completely for five whole days. You’d had this kid in your care for five whole days now. As always, he sat on top of your counter while you bundled some flowers into a bouquet, playing around with a spool of glittering blue ribbon he had found in a little basket next to him, chattering and babbling on as if the ribbon and him were having the most riveting of discussions, and you found yourself wondering just what it was you thought the small child was saying. You shook your head and continued to add flowers to your bouquet, completely unsuspecting to the door that flew angrily off of its hinges, and the bell above breaking free to hit the wall on the other side of the small shop.

You gasped and dropped the bouquet, a strangely strong maternal instinct taking over your mind, and you snatched the child right off of the counter before dropping to the floor. You tried to hide your panic from the kid, but his face was already scrunching up at the sight of yours, which was most likely terrified. He touched your face and made a little cooing sound before you shushed him, tucking his little head against your shoulder. Fear struck through you like lightening and you didn’t dare turn around when heavy, metallic footsteps became ever so prominent in your little shop. You closed your eyes and huddled in the corner behind your counter, knees drawn up to your chest and arms clutching the little alien that clung to you with nearly the same intensity.

The table next to your counter was kicked and it flew to the side, vases shattering against the floor and loose flowers flying all over, and you yelped, your heart pounding against your chest. You kept your eyes shut and listened to the heavy footsteps grow closer and closer until the child was ripped from your arms. At this point, your eyes flew open and you grit your teeth, launching yourself upwards, savagely needing to protect this little creature.

Even if that meant somehow getting rid of this six foot tall man. Slathered in cold steel armor. Crowned with a sleek helmet and a big, long weapon holstered to his back. He stood easily a head taller than you and was now looking down on you, his stance making you cower only slightly, and you prayed that he didn’t notice.

“Give him back!” You said and tried to lunge forward to grab the baby, but this was rudely unsuccessful, because with one hand, he pushed you back and you lost your footing, hitting the floor with a loud crack.

You looked down and you noticed then that you had fallen into a thick vase, the glass cutting deep into your hand.

But the blood and the horrified expression on your face didn’t stop the child from whining a bit and the silent warrior standing over you. You couldn’t see his eyes through his helmet, but the stare you felt seemed close to deadly as he crouched down and grabbed the neckline of your dress, yanking you forward.

“Who do you work for?” He asked, his helmet distorting what was probably the otherwise smooth voice and turning it into a menacing fear tactic.

“N-no one,” you mumbled and tried to pull away from his grip. It only tightened.

“No one? So you just took my kid for fun?” He asked, and though his voice was cold and robotic, you could hear its incredulous tone.

You shook your head and grabbed at his wrist, but you winced, the cut on your hand stinging nastily, “I didn’t take your kid... he wandered in here. I’ve been watching him.. I...” you tried to get away from him once more but gave up, “No one came for him, I couldn’t just leave him somewhere.. he’s a kid,” you explained, almost breathlessly as the pain in your hand only grew worse as you became more aware of the glass that stayed lodged within the cut.

He held your neckline for a bit longer before pushing you backwards just a bit. You cradled your bloody hand against your chest and you looked down at it. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked, but from your standpoint, it seemed pretty bad.

Above, the baby whined and you could hear him grunting, and your gaze flickered up to him as he tried to wiggle away from the armored man holding him. He turned his green little head toward you and he reached one fat little hand toward you, a frown on his face.

The man tilted his helmet down to the baby and then back at you, and he did this a few times before he sighed and crouched down next to you, letting the child down as well.

“You took care of him? That’s it? Nothing else? Because so help me god-“ he began, and the baby teetered his way towards you.

You nodded and leaned your head back, “Yes, I swear. I only took care of him. He wandered into my shop five days ago. I didn’t know where to take him,” you insisted and reached out with your good hand to meet the hand of the child which was outstretched towards you. His little stubby fingers wrapped around one of yours and you smiled just a bit, and he seemed to pick up on the fact that you were relieved to have him grab your finger, and a little smile formed on his tiny mouth.

He liked you.

—

This was nearly six months ago. After having your shop turned upside down, the father of this kid, which you came to learn was a Mandalorian, helped you clean up your hand before he promptly offered you a job. You would come along with him and the baby and watch the little alien while he took care of work, which you also came to learn was bounty hunting.

You almost said no.

Almost.

But that damn baby and his big stupid eyes looked at you so happily, that you couldn’t say no, and you quietly accepted.

And you couldn’t say that you regretted it at all, because of said baby.

At first, things were tense. You referred to The Mandalorian as ‘Sir’ and nothing else, and he never corrected you or asked you to call him something different until a month or so later when he told you that you could address him as ‘Mando’.

Mando was a man of few words. An unreadable man of few words. He always seemed emotionless, always seemed like he was capable of nothing but his job, and in the weirdest way, caring for the little green toddler.

Until nearly three months into your new life with the two of them. You and the kid were taken by a spiteful quarry, and disaster led to more disaster, and it took nearly three days for Mando to find the two of you.

After that he wasn’t so emotionless.

After almost losing the child and you, Mando began to notice things about you that he never did before. Until that point, you were beneficial to him, no more, no less. He didn’t like you, and he didn’t hate you. You were convenient and kind and caring enough to help him with the occasional wound. You never asked questions very often, and that made him happy. The only time you asked something worthy of conversation was when you nearly walked in on him with his helmet off, and his chastising snap was enough to cause you to ask what you did wrong, which in turn, he briefly explained that the helmet did not come off in front of anyone, and you seemed to want to ask more.

But you didn’t. Instead you respected his silence and in turn, he respected your talkative nature.

And god were you talkative. This was one of the things he noticed about you very first. You’d only met Greef Karga twice, and that was enough for Mando. It didn’t seem to occur to him that if you put two talkative people together, they’re gonna talk. For hours. And so he sat in a cantina while you chatted happily with Karga about your flowers on Naboo, and he chatted right back about some girl he met and his favorite drinks and things such as that. The second time, Mando didn’t let it get even twenty minutes in before he was corralling you back onto the Razor Crest with a baby on your hip that was talking just as much as you were. Sometimes he’d hear the two of you having little conversations down in the hull of his ship. You were speaking as if you were talking to a dear friend, and the child sat upon your lap, babbling intelligently, absolutely confident that everyone could understand these unintelligible sounds he made. This seemed to make both of you very happy, so Mando let it happen, even if it went on for hours and his head was so full of baby noises and your voice that he wanted to yell. He wouldn’t ever admit how cute he really found your talkative nature.

Of course, it was the kindness he noticed about you next. You were perhaps the sweetest person he’d met in his entire life. You were selfless for that kid, staying up all night to bounce him as he cried, or you’d do just ridiculous things to make him giggle. Sometimes you’d stay awake until Mando came back just to make sure he got there safely, and if he was wounded? You’d sniff it out like a bloodhound and insist that he let you help him tend to his wounds.

He’d almost always let you, just so he could indulge just a bit to feel your soft skin against his own.

Almost a week after you and the kid had been taken, he began to find himself watching you more and more.

He began to notice and appreciate things about you that he’d never thought twice about in the past.

Like how your eyes would glitter when you were happy. He liked that. He found himself nearly cracking a smile underneath his helmet when he would watch your eyes light up. Or how you didn’t like to sleep if the baby was awake, because it made you anxious. He especially liked the time of night where you’d sit and twirl your fingers through your hair and read, and most times, he desperately wished it was his fingers moving through your lovely hair. He knew you were always cold. It’s just how you were. You weren’t used to being in space all the time, so if you ever fell asleep without a blanket, he’d be sure to cover you with one. And if you were caught outside with him when it got cold? He’d put his cape around your shoulders and instruct you to wrap it around your front, which you did with ease, because the thick fabric was made to fit his broad shoulders and it enveloped your frame easily. Mando took great pride in seeing his cape around your shoulders, almost as if he had some sort of ownership over you in the most loving way possible.

Nearly four months into this arrangement, and he found himself actively listening and more frequently than before, engaging in conversation with you. This seemed to make you happy, and he liked that. He liked that a lot, because then your eyes would do that... thing that he loved.

And to you? This was wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, that you began to find yourself drawn to him, and within absolutely no time, you found yourself hopelessly in love with The Mandalorian. You knew it wasn’t good, and you knew you’d never get what you wanted from him, but that didn’t stop your foolish heart.

He’d take as many opportunities as he could to tell you he was thankful for you and to note that the kid loved you, and each time, your heart would flutter, sending pink to your cheeks.

He noticed this every time, and it always filled him with a sense of gentle pride.

He liked you. He really did. But as far has he was concerned, it was a silly crush on a silly young girl that came from a place of gratitude.

Or that’s what he’d tell himself, at least.

One day, six months into your arrangement, the three of you found yourselves on Naboo, chasing a lesser criminal, and when Mando had caught him, you had begged him to let you show the kid your favorite field to pick flowers from.

At first, he refused. The second time you asked, he also refused. But by the fifth, he gruffly allotted you twenty minutes, supervised by him, in a field of your choice. You gratefully bounced up and down in front of him and you gave him a quick hug in passing, and the small gesture wouldn’t leave his mind, though he was sure it had left yours.

When he landed the Crest in the middle of the field, you wasted no time in scooping up the excited child and running down the ramp as soon as it came down.

It was nearly sunset as the two of you played around in the flowers, giggling and smiling amongst each other while under the over-observant watch of Mando, leaning against the side of the ramp while you two messed around. After a few moments, you skipped up to him and held out a soft pink flower, and instantly, he became speechless with the way he easily compared the color of the plant to that of your rosy cheeks.

“Here,” you offered and when he didn’t reach for it, you grabbed his hand and placed the flower in it, “These are my favorites. Also, I think they’re the kid’s favorites, too. He keeps trying to eat them,” she said and he babbled in your arms, like he was agreeing with you.

He didn’t wrap his fingers around the flower, but he held it in his palm and looked down at it before nodding. He handed it back to you and you shook your head, frowning just a bit, “No, no,” she protested and set the kid down, “It’s for you. I picked it for you,” she explained and the child waddled a few feet away to plop down next to a tall patch of grass with little yellow blossoms growing within it.

He looked curiously at the flower and back up at you before nodding once, “Thank you,” he spoke, not sure of what to say.

You nodded and you stood on your toes to place a kiss against his helmet, right where his cheek would’ve been, “Think of it as a good luck flower or something like that. I don’t know much about good luck charms though, so maybe just keep it in my honor, Mando,” she said softly with a giggle and went to sit down next to the baby, picking flowers with him.

As Mando watched you, he felt that odd feeling again, the one he’d chalked up to a silly crush, and the words were already out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Din.”

You looked up from the beginnings of a flower crown confusedly, “Excuse me, what?” You asked and studied him.

He cursed himself silently for that, but he couldn’t brush it off as an accident now. So he sighed and walked towards you and the kid, lowering himself gracefully to crouch next to you, “Din. That’s my name. You may call me that when it’s just us three,” he answered, watching your face before rising back up. He made his way back to his spot against the ship, leaning there silently.

It had been well over twenty minutes, because now the sun had gone down and the stars began to grow brighter in the sky. You looked down and noticed the little alien had fallen asleep in the soft grass and you looked over at Din, who was staring off at the horizon. Or you thought at least. It wasn’t like you could feel his stare on you.

But it was.

“Hey, why don’t you come over here and sit for a minute?” You asked softly and looked over at him. His head didn’t move and he made no indication that he’d even heard you until he uncrossed his arms from his chest.

He shook his head once and tapped the side of the ship, “We need to get going,” he spoke and turned towards the ship to board it.

“No. Not yet. Please. Come sit for a minute, you could really use a little bit of a breather and there’s no better place to do it than a field of flowers,” you were practically begging, and he seemed to not care as he continued to walk up the ramp, so you waited a second before calling out to him by name, “Din? Please? Just for a minute and then we can leave.”

The soft way his name rolled off of your tongue stopped him dead in his tracks and he stood unmoving for a moment before sighing, and you could hear this distinctly through his modulator. He turned around and seemed to be assessing where you sat next to the sleeping baby and he almost reluctantly walked back towards you two. He stood over you for almost three whole minutes before he sat down next to you, and you made a point to scoot a bit closer to him.

“You know, I used to make the prettiest flower chains for like... parties and things. And then people stopped celebrating all the time, you know? Most of the party goes moved away from Naboo slowly and now it’s just a lot of tourists,” you explained and plucked a bright yellow flower out of the ground and tucked it behind your ear before you leaned your head absentmindedly against his shoulder. He didn’t say a word, and you were used to that. He didn’t usually respond to your conversation.

Din shifted slightly underneath you and you went to pull away, apologizing under your breath about laying your head against him. But he placed a firm hand on your thigh and you froze, “It’s alright. You don’t need to move,” he spoke, sliding his hand away from your leg.

You tentatively rested against him once more and looked up at the stars beyond the Crest. Din would’ve looked too, but he had already seen the same stars in your eyes, hundreds of times before now. He’d rather see them there anyway.

His gaze was fixed upon the light sundress that you wore that day, how it fell around your legs, just above the knee, and how the pretty pale pink fabric looked against your soft skin. He stayed like that for a while, silently sitting there so he didn’t disrupt your rest, and it wasn’t until he heard your deep breathing that he realized you’d fallen asleep.

Din could’ve cursed your name for letting yourself get so tired, and it settled with him right then that you worked much too hard for your own good, and made a mental note to relieve you of baby duties more often so that you could rest.

Finally, The Mandalorian decided it was time to leave, and he reached over to scoop the baby up and lay him on your lap before he stood and lifted you into his arms simultaneously. He made lifting you and the baby look as simple as moving a leaf, but perhaps in your case, moving a flower would be more accurate. Once inside of the Crest, he closed the door and laid the two of you down against a cot, plucking the child off of your lap and putting him back in his little pod. He covered both of you up and knelt down by your bedside, watching you peacefully sleep, and he would’ve given anything to run his fingers across your cheek right then.

His hands moved to your face and hovered above your skin for a moment before taking a new route to his helmet, taking on a mind of their own. Din removed his helmet silently and leaned down to press his lips against your forehead, leaving them there for a long time before he pulled away and put the helmet back on. He rose to his feet and turned away so that he could start the ship and get into the air, his chest sinking when he realized that when you were sleeping was the only time he’d ever be able to do that, when you weren’t even conscious, when you couldn’t even feel it.

Though you’d never tell him, you found yourself half awake when his lips were pressed to your forehead.

And without his knowledge, you felt it.

Oh, you felt it.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin imagine #the manadalorian #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #mando x y/n #mando imagine #the mandalorian imagine #st #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 4 years

Text

Day 24: Something Was Off- Agent Whiskey

Day 24: Something Was Off - Agent Whiskey

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader (Apple)

This prompt was requested by @littlevodika. Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy this continuation of the Whiskey/Apple relationship.

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff @josepedropascal

This is part three, you can read the other two parts below.

Part 1 (Day 1 Heartbeat) Part 2 (Day 8 Dot, Dot, Dot)

November Writing Challenge Masterlist

Day 23: Whispers - Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear how much I love you. So please don’t take my sunshine away…” Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels serenades the small bundle in his arms.

All swaddled in a pink blanket, Magnolia Daniels eyes droop and a small smile graces her sweet little face as she watches her daddy sway to the music. The sounds of his deep velvety voice and his warm chest lull her into sleep.

Jack places a kiss on her forehead before laying her in the bassinet beside your side of the bed. He crawls back into bed and wraps his long arms around you tucking you back into his chest, and sighing. “Thank you,” he whispers, “that little girl and you are my entire world,” he kisses your head gently before drifting back off to sleep.

Maggie makes her presence known several hours later when she wakes with the sunshine and begins to fuss. You lift her from the bassinet and pull down your sleep shirt, putting her to your breast to suckle. You close your eyes to get a few more moments of sleep when you feel eyes on you.

You slowly open to see Jack watching you both with rapt attention. This has always been his favorite part of you becoming parents, he loves to watch his daughter eat. “That is a sight I will never tire of sugar,” he croons at you.

After you switch and she finishes he eagerly scoops her up and burps her against his shoulder. Dipping down to kiss you sweetly, “you sleep mama, I will make breakfast for us, and then we can get going.”

You smile and nod watching the former playboy of Statesman babble nonsense to his infant daughter. So much had changed since you found out you were pregnant. Jack had resigned from fieldwork, only working on training new recruits. You had cut back on your hours in the weapons design lab. Both of you in favor of spending more time with your precious girl.

In the six months since she had been born you both hadn’t left her side but tonight for the first time that was going to change. Uncle Tequila was going to give you both a much needed night out while he watched his goddaughter.

Tequila had been your best friend since preschool and had even recommended you for the job at Statesman. He was the most supportive friend you could have asked for and loved little Magnolia almost as much as you and Jack. He doted on her endlessly and never failed to show up with some toy or trinket for her from his travels. When Jack had asked him about watching her you were pleasantly surprised and Tequila was ecstatic.

It took a few days to even prepare for going out with pumping extra milk, but the idea of a few hours alone with Jack was too good to pass up. You drifted back to sleep dreaming of a romantic night out with your boyfriend.

When you later roused from sleep it was to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon. You shower and get dressed quickly before walking into the living room and sweeping your daughter into your arms. She giggles and holds your cheeks before pulling tightly on your hair. You look up and see Jack with a big smile on his face as he watches his two favorite girls.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully as you handle the daily chores, nap time, diaper changes, tummy time, and feedings. Jack is always there to help with everything, and before long Uncle Tequila is at the door holding a small wooden maraca.

“I was in Spain last week and had to get something for my Maggie Moo,” he coos at the little girl whose eyes brighten at her favorite Uncle.

You kiss him on the cheek, “thank you Tequila for watching her.”

“Anything for my sweet goddaughter. You’re prettier than a Magnolia in May,” he tickles her gently.

You run to your room and change into a white sundress with bright yellow sunflowers on it, brown cowgirl boots, and your jean jacket. Coming back out to see Jack dressed in his cowboy boots, dark jeans, maroon button-up, black leather jacket, and trusty black stetson. You take a moment to appreciate the fine broad specimen you had acquired. Damn, he is too sexy, words don’t do him justice.

“Sweet Jesus sugar, you are the most beautiful woman to grace this earth,” he pulls you close and plants a kiss on your lips. Giggling as he turns toward his daughter, “isn’t your mama beautiful?” he questions kissing her cheeks before giving her to you. You kiss her and hug her close before giving her over to her Uncle.

“Now you remember, the extra milk is already bottled and in the fridge, and all the important numbers are on the fridge, and we can be reached if you need anything just call ou-”

“Apple! Go out with Whiskey, I got this.” Tequila pushes you both out the front door locking it behind you.

“Did we just get kicked out of our own apartment?” you point back towards the door and then at a laughing Jack.

“It would seem so sugar. Come on,” he grabs your hand, “I have something special planned for tonight.”

“You’ve been very hush-hush about this night out...what are you planning Jack?” you question.

Jack only smiles before helping you into the Bronco. You pass through the city lights of downtown Kentucky. The penthouse where you lived was close to Statesman but not exactly where you had imagined raising your children.

You drive for another thirty minutes before you turn off the highway into a less populated area. Something was off, this didn’t seem like a normal night out with dinner or a movie, you were out in the middle of nowhere.

You pull into the driveway of a ranch-style house, the nearest neighbor half a mile down the road. You slowly get out the bronco, “Where...where are we, Jack?”

He says nothing only leads you to the door and unlocks it pulling you inside. The house is gorgeous, a mix of farmhouse and craftsman style features. Large vaulted ceilings with wooden beams and cherry hardwood floors. He flicks on a light and in the middle of the floor is a blanket, pillows, and a picnic basket.

He leads you over to the set-up and pulls you down to sit against him as he pours you each a glass of Apple Whiskey a personal favorite of yours. “Jack...this is incredible...but, what is all this?” you gesture to the space around you.

“Well as of three o’clock yesterday this is our house sugar,” he holds your hand lightly.

“You...you bought us a house?” your eyes brim with unshed tears.

He nods, before standing to pace the room. “I...I know how much you hate living in the city and Magnolia needs space to run and grow in the great outdoors. The whole property is five acres, with plenty of space for us. There’s even a small apple orchard outback. I...I wanted to make a gesture to tell you how much I love you, and how much I want to be with you.”

“Oh Jack,” you rise to your feet and pull him down to kiss you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his. “I love you so damn much Jack Daniels.”

“This is one more thing...I bought for the house, I feel like every house deserves a good door mat. Why don’t you go look at the one I picked out.”

You laugh, “I don’t know how the mat can compete with this house but I am eager to see what you picked out,” you walk over to the door and look down.

Daniels Family Est. 2021

The air is knocked out of your lungs and you spin to find Jack behind you on one knee. “Oh my god…” you whisper.

“Agent Apple, weapons guru of Statesman, mother of my beautiful Magnolia, and the love of my life. I will love and protect you forever with everything that I have darlin’. I want to live in this house with you, have more babies with you, laugh, make love, and grow old with you.” Tears swim in his eyes as he pulls out a small ring box and pops the lid revealing a silver ring with a princess cut emerald surrounded by a circle of diamonds.

“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asks.

“YES!” you shout dropping to your knees and kissing him, “yes, Jack a thousand times, yes!”

He slides the ring onto your finger, and you admire it. The moment is interrupted by the shrill sound of the cell phone. Jack pulls his out and answers on Facetime.

“Did you ask yet?! Did she say yes?!” Tequila begs holding up a giggling Magnolia up to the screen.

You laugh, “YES! I did say yes!”

“Yahoo! Did ya hear that Maggie Moo your mama and daddy are gonna get married!” she squeals and claps.

You look up at Jack and smile, this was your family and you couldn’t wait to make him your husband.

#kingsman golden circle #November writing challenge #jack whiskey daniels #Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey x reader #agent tequila #Day 24

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itsadamcole · 4 years

Text

arranged - pt.2

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

reader and Drew go to America for reader’s surprises ...

word count: 5.5k+

warnings: prince!drew, just a lil bit angsty, definitely more fluff than part 1, smut :)

— and here’s part 2. enjoy —

part 1 || masterlist || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You and Drew land in Orlando. It's late January, and a huge temperature difference. It feels more like summer in Florida than it does in Scotland, where it's super cold right now.

A smile hasn't left your lips since you took off, and you're excited to see Candice.

Speaking of Candice, she waits by baggage for you. When you see her, you drop Drew's hand and your things before running over to her. You hug her tight and she says, "Okay, okay. Relax, princess. It's nice to see you."

"It's nice to see you too," you say, looking at her. "I haven't seen you since the wedding."

Candice laughs and says, "It wasn't that long ago." She looks at Drew. "Your husband has gotten handsomer since I last saw him."

You giggle and say, "It hasn't been that long, Candice."

She smiles and says, "So, anyway. Come on. The trainers and doctors want to give you a full physical at Full Sail to make sure you're cleared to be in the match this week on NXT."

Smiling, you say, "Sounds great." You look back at Drew. "Ready?"

He nods and says, "Of course."

Candice drives you both to Full Sail University, where NXT is broadcasted from. She asks questions about what married life is like, how Scotland is, and how it's been over there since you married Drew.

It's a short drive to Full Sail from the airport so she doesn't get to many questions in.

During the physical, the doctors and trainers make sure your in tiptop shape to compete. You've lost some muscle mass since you haven't trained in months but it's not that big of a deal. They do the whole work up.

After you've been medically cleared to compete, Hall of Famer Triple H finds you. He says, "Y/N, welcome to Full Sail. We're very happy to have you here as part of our roster in NXT, even though it's for a short amount of time."

You smile and say, "Thank you, Mr. H."

He hands you a black leather folder and says, "Inside, you'll find a part time NXT contract that will have you as part of the NXT roster for six months. Your husband says that after six months, you will no longer be able to compete. As a part timer, you're slotted to be in three matches, one match every two months."

Your eyes widen and you look at Drew before you say, "I thought this was a one match deal."

"I pulled some strings," Drew says before winning at you.

Triple H says, "As of right now, your matches will be against Candice this Wednesday at NXT, a match against an opponent of your choice at Takeover: London in two months, and a match against an opponent of your choice at Takeover: Glasgow in four and a half months."

Your jaw almost hits the floor and you say, "Takeover matches? Like, actual pay-per-view matches."

Everyone in the room laughs and Triple H says, "We wanted to make your last few matches memorable ones. I've spoken with William Regal about this and he's on board. Are you?"

Quickly, you read over the contract and sign it. "I'm on board," you say.

"Welcome to NXT, Y/N," Triple H says, holding out his hand.

You shake his hand and smile. "Thank you for this opportunity," you say.

He smiles and walks off. You look at Drew and he has a huge smile on his face.

"I haven't seen ya so happy about something before," he says.

You smile back at your husband and you say, "I'm living my dream because of you, Drew. Thank you."

Drew says, "I just got us here. Yer talent is the reason yer living yer dream."

"You've never seen me in the ring before," you say, giggling.

Your husband says, "I get t'see ya in the ring on Wednesday."

You smile and shake you head, leaving to go to the hotel to get some sleep so you can train all day tomorrow before Wednesday.

***

Wednesday gets here too quickly. You've brought your old gear with you to wrestle in. It's definitely more revealing than you remember.

You stand in your little dressing room and look in the mirror at yourself.

The shorts got tighter and shorter, and the crop top now tightly hugs your chest. Your cleavage is very exposed and you hope to God that you don't have a wardrobe malfunction while in the ring.

Now that you're the princess of Scotland, you have a lot to be conscious about.

Someone knocks on your door as you're tying up your boots. "It's me," Candice says. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," you say.

The door opens and Candice walks in. She smiles when she sees you in your gear. "Damn, you looked good in the gear then and you look good now," she says. "Anyway, I was thinking. I want to cut a promo before our match tonight. Just a short one. I'll say how a princess shouldn't be in the ring with someone like me and we can go from there."

You nod and finish lacing up your boots. "Sounds good," you say. "I'm assuming that my signing has been a secret?"

Candice nods and says, "Yeah. Drew's being kept out of the crowd until our slot so it doesn't give it away too early that you're here."

Someone calls your name and Candice's name. It's time.

"I've never been so ready to get back in a ring," you say. "Ever since I left, it's been marriage and princess lessons. I'm ready to wrestle again."

Candice smiles as the two of you walk to the backstage area. "You better be," she says.

Several NXT superstars are in the backstage area. The Undisputed Era, Finn Balor, Io Shirai, Timothy Thatcher, Tommaso Ciampa, Rhea Ripley, Johnny Gargano, Indi Hartwell, and Shotzi Blackheart just to name a few.

You stretch out as you wait for your music to hit.

It's been too long since you felt this rush of adrenaline. Before every match and every promo for Ring of Honor, you'd feel a rush of adrenaline to get you pumped up. You last felt this in your last ROH match a few months ago. It's been too damn long.

Candice's music hits and she walks out. You listen to what she says carefully.

"Rumor has it we're in the presence of royalty tonight," Candice says. "Apparently some princess signed with us a few days ago? That's the rumor anyway. I don't think she even deserves to be in an NXT ring."

That's when you're handed a microphone before your music, I Like It Heavy by Halestorm, hits. Of course it's a clean version of the song because this is WWE but it's fine. You're making your entrance for the first time in months.

The crowd loses it as you walk toward the ring in your sparkly red and black gear. You step into the ring.

The music fades out and you're face to face with Candice. She smirks and asks, "Oh, did I hit a nerve, princess?"

You hold your microphone up and say, "I don't deserve to be in an NXT ring?" You scoff. "Please, Candice. I've fought to be here."

Candice says, "You're Scotland's princess. That's the only reason you're here."

These comments are hitting you hard, but you fight through.

"Listen here," you say. "I am a NWA Women's World Champion, a two-time NWA Women's World Tag Team Chanpion, and Impact Knockouts Champion. I deserve to be in this ring for my talent, not by my title."

Candice says, "Then let's go. You're dressed. I'm dressed. Let's get a referee out here."

The crowd cheers and you yell "bring it" into the microphone before throwing it down.

The match begins shortly after. You have Candice in a headlock and you're trying to bring her down onto her knees. She pushes you off of her into the ropes. You bounce off and hit her with a clothesline.

You say, "Oh, look. The princess is the only one still standing."

The crowd laughs and Candice hits the mat before getting up. You're locked in a grapple with her a few seconds later. After a bit of struggling, Candice knees you in the stomach. You cry out and clutch your stomach, falling to your knees. She hits you with a running knee to the jaw, and you sell it well. You fall into your back, knees bent with your feet beneath you.

Candice pulls at your hair to get you up, and the ref warns her of the hair. She says, "Get out of my ring."

You snarl, "Go to hell."

Then you elbow her hard. She backs off you, creating enough space for you to perform a spinning heel kick. She falls but you get her up into your shoulders into a fireman's carry.

You hit the Falcon Arrow on her and go in for the pin.

One. Two. Three. The bell rings and your music blares. The crowd goes insane. You spot Drew in the front row where he would mostly be off camera. He's looking at you in awe as he applauds. You smile as the ref holds your arm up, declaring you the official winner.

***

Days pass by since your match with Candice. It's all you talk about whenever you get the chance. Drew just smiles and listens as you tell him about the rush you felt being back in the ring.

You're driving to your hometown, a little suburb outside of Manhattan. It's been a quiet ride, and that's because Drew is asleep.

Timezones and jet lag have not been your friend during this trip, but it's easier for you to get used to the time change than it is for Drew.

You pull up to your childhood home and tap Drew's shoulder. "Hey, sleeping beauty," you say. "We're here."

He stirs and looks out the window. You smile and he says, "This is yer old house? It's so small."

"I didn't have much," you say. "My parents scrapped together what they could to pay for wrestling school when I was 14 until I was 17. I told myself then that I'd make it in wrestling and I'd pay them back for what they paid for me to go to wrestling school."

Drew looks at you and asks, "Can we go inside?"

You shake your head and say, "It was foreclosed. It belongs to the bank or something. It would be illegal to go in."

Your husband looks back at the house, which has fallen apart with age. It's a one story house. It has one bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and one room that holds the living room, dining room, and kitchen areas.

Drew says, "This while time ya were over here struggling, I was living it up as the prince of Scotland with my rich parents. I used to throw tantrums because they wouldn't get me the newest toy or take me on vacation with them, and your family couldn't afford either."

"We made it through," you say. "My parents live in a beautiful two story house in the nicer part of Manhattan. I paid them back right before I left for Scotland. Every story has a happy ending, Drew."

He smiles a bit and he asks, "Even ours?"

You smile and say, "Especially ours." You lean over the middle console and press a kiss to Drew's cheek. Your lips linger a little too long and he turns his head. You pull back a bit and meet his eyes.

That's when the butterflies flutter in your stomach and your heart races in your chest.

Slowly, both you and Drew lean into each other. Your eyes flicker to the lips you've only kissed twice, once at your wedding and once at a public event right after the wedding.

One of Drew's hands moves and rests on your cheek. You instinctively lean into his soft touch a bit.

Your lips are centimeters away from Drew's. Your noses touch as Drew's other hand moves to cup your other cheek.

"Tell me to stop if ya don't want this," Drew whispers.

You nod a bit and say, "I want this, Drew."

Then his lips brush against yours. A feather light touch. It makes you lean in more because you want more.

Drew guides your lips to his. Your eyes flutter closed as you kiss Drew. Your hands wrap around his wrists as he cups your face.

His facial hair tickles your chin and upper lip as the soft kiss continues.

It's like your first kiss all over again. Your first kiss was at your wedding in front of thousands of people. This one feels different. You never felt butterflies or your heart race when you kissed Drew at your wedding. You do now.

Drew pulls back and looks at you.

"How come ya never kissed me like that at our wedding?" he asks.

You say, "Because I didn't want it then. I wanted it now. I wanted the kiss."

He smiles and pecks your lips one more time before saying, "Show me yer favorite spot."

Giggling, you say, "I can't drive with you holding my face. Hold my hand if you wanna hold something."

Drew smiles and lets your face go. He takes your hand as you drive to your favorite spot.

Your favorite spot, or your safe spot, is a small park. You pull up, and get out.

The sun is setting, and you have a perfect view.

After taking Drew's hand, you walk over to a park bench. You sit down and Drew sits beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulder as you both watch the sunset.

Drew says, "Ya don't have t'stay if ya don't want."

You look at him and ask, "What are you talking about?"

"In Scotland," he says. "Ya don't have t'stay. Being king isn't that important t'me if it means that ya don't get t'keep wrestling. I saw ya in the ring the other day, and it's all ya talk about. Ya love wrestling, and I don't wanna take that away from ya."

You turn so you're facing him as you say, "I'm happy in Scotland. Yeah, it was hard at first. I had to come to terms with possibly never wrestling again, and I did. Until you surprised me with this trip. I love that you did this for me, and for that, I'll help you become king and I'll be the best damn queen Scotland has ever seen." Drew smiles and you throw your legs over one of his legs.

You continue with, "Plus, I may or may not have fallen for you completely so I'm not going anywhere. Til death do us part, remember?"

There's almost a sparkle in Drew's eyes when you tell him that you might have fallen for him.

Your husband smiles and says, "I, uh, might've fallen for ya completely too."

You smile and lean into Drew. You kiss him slowly and softly. He kisses you back, pulling you closer to him.

The kiss is slow and full of passion. Your heart pounds in your chest as your lips move against Drew's.

Drew pulls back again and he says, "Let's find somewhere t'stay tonight. Do ya have a favorite hotel?"

You nod and say, "Yeah, it's in the city. Let's go."

The two of you get up and head to your favorite hotel.

***

The San Carlos Hotel. It's a cute little hotel, and not over the top fancy. You rent out a suite for the next few days, and they tell you that your stay is on the house because you're royalty. Sometimes being a royal has its perks.

The suite is a one bedroom suite. A full bathroom and walk in closet. Plus a living room area with a couch and a flat screen, and a kitchen.

Drew smiles when you unlock the door. You both walk in and you say, "Home sweet home while we tour New York."

He looks at you and say, "I'm glad ya didn't take the out when I offered it, Y/N. I didn't know ya were happy in Scotland. Honestly, I thought ya were miserable."

Giggling, you walk up to Drew and say, "Scotland is a beautiful country. I'm happy to be its princess, and eventually queen."

Your husband says, "Scotland's beauty is nothing compared to yers, Y/N."

Your cheeks heat up and say, "You are one unbelievably cheesy prince, you know that."

He laughs and says, "I take good pride in that. It's a talent."

Laughing, you begin to unpack. Drew disappears into the living room.

Once you've finished unpacking, you walk over to the window. You cross your arms over your chest and look out over the city that never sleeps.

Cars are still on the road and people are milling around on the sidewalks even though the sun has set.

You smile and keep looking out the window, until a pair of arms wraps around your shoulders. You don't have to look to know it's Drew. You lean back into him.

"I'll miss New York," you admit. "The city is always buzzing. It's the city that never sleeps, you know."

Drew presses a kiss to your temple and he says, "Just because we're gonna be king and queen doesn't mean we can't leave the country. We're not locked down in Scotland when we ascend the throne."

You sigh and say, "I know."

The two of you stand like that. You both look out over the city for several minutes.

Drew asks, "So, I did good?"

Nodding, you look up at Drew. "You did more than good," you say. "This has been the best trip of my life, and I'm glad you're here with me."

Your husband says, "I hope we can actually try at the relationship thing. I have a lot to learn still and-"

You lean up, pressing a soft kiss to Drew's lips to cut him off. He's caught off guard by the kiss but he kisses you back.

After a moment, you pull back and say, "We're gonna try at the relationship thing." You smile. "But I know that you know a decent amount about some parts of a relationship."

Drew says, "I know a lot less than ya think I know."

You turn in his arms and ask, "So if I asked you to, I don't know, take off my clothes, you wouldn't know how to do it?"

His face gets flustered as he stammers, "Well, I, uh, I know how to take off clothes, Y/N."

"I would hope so," you say, teasing him.

Drew smiles and says, "Listen, I don't know much about relationships but I know a lot about the physical parts."

You stare up at Drew and say, "Show me what you know."

"Y/N, we just talked about trying the relationship thing," he says, smiling. "I don't think we're ready for the next step."

A smile forms on your lips as you say, "We've already skipped a step or two. What's one more?"

Drew pushes some hair out of your face before he cups your face. He says, "I wanna do this the right way, Y/N."

You look up at Drew and you say, "There is no right way when we're in this situation."

He laughs softly and says, "Yer not wrong."

Leaning your head up, you say, "So show me what you got."

Drew smiles and leans down, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is slow at first, full of passion. You wrap your arms around Drew's waist, holding him close to you.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, asking for access. You part your lips slightly. His tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a soft sigh into the kiss.

Your heart is racing in your chest at the thought of Drew taking off your clothes. You've seen him without a shirt on, but he's always seen you clothed.

While you're busy thinking, Drew's fingers have started working on the zipper of the jacket you're wearing. He pushes the jacket off of you and you pull away from the kiss.

Your eyes meet Drew's and he asks, "Ya really want this?"

Nodding, you say, "I want this." You untuck the shirt he's wearing from his pants.

Drew smiles and picks you up by your waist. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks toward the bed. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck. You take out the hair tie that's keeping his hair in a ponytail.

"I don't want your hair up when we're together," you admit. "I like it down."

Your husband lays you gently on your back on the bed. He looks down at you and says, "Anything for my princess."

You giggle, "So cheesy."

Drew leans down and kisses you. Your fingers slide up into his long locks. One of Drew's hands roams your body over your clothes while you start to unbutton the button up that he's wearing.

Several months ago, you and Drew wouldn't even touch each other. Not even hand-holding. Now, you're underneath him on a bed.

Things have definitely changed for the better over the last few weeks between you and Drew. It feels like euphoria when he kisses you or touches you. You can only imagine how it'll feel when his fingers find their way into your pants or under your shirt.

You're barely able to control yourself as Drew's lips move from yours to your neck. Your eyes flutter closed and you run your fingers through Drew's long locks. His button up now hangs open after you got it unbuttoned.

Drew kisses and nips at the skin on your neck as you push the open button-up off his body. You run your fingers gently up his now bare arms until your hands cup his face. You bring Drew's head up, bringing his face out of your neck. You're breathing a little heavy as you meet Drew's pretty blue eyes.

You lean your head up and press your lips to Drew's hard. One of Drew's hands runs down the side of your body, grazing the side of your breast. You almost shiver with anticipation as Drew's fingers reach the bottom of your t-shirt.

He pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you. You sit up a bit and lift your arms over your head. Drew pulls the t-shirt off of you and discards it somewhere in the room. You're left in just a plain, black bra and pants. You didn't think you'd be doing this or you would have worn a fancier undergarment.

"God," Drew says, eyes wondering over your half naked upper body. Your cheeks get hot as he looks at you underneath him.

He shifts his weight so he's kneeling between your legs. He pulls your hips toward him. You feel the bulge in Drew's pants against your clothed crotch and you gasp slightly. Your husband sits on his heels as he looks at you.

You stare at Drew, waiting anxiously for him to make a move. Your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Drew hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them off your body slowly. They join your shirt on the hotel floor. He leans down and starts to lightly kiss your belly. You giggle and look down at him. His lips trail up your belly until he reaches the bra you're wearing. He undoes the front clasp and the bra falls open, exposing your breasts to Drew. Your breath hitches as he uses a finger and plays with one of your nipples. He kisses the other breast before sucking on that nipple.

You bite back a moan as you slightly arch your back off the mattress. The hand playing with your nipple moves down your body. Drew's fingers slip into the waistband of your panties and you sigh. You lick your bottom lip as his fingers inch closer to their target.

Your husband's eyes flicker up to your face and he watches for your reaction as two of his fingers run through your slick folds. Your eyes flutter closed and you smile, grasping onto the blankets on the bed.

His fingers tease your clit and you say in a whispered tone, "Don't tease." Drew teases your entrance and you let out a quiet moan.

"That was the prettiest things I've ever heard come from ya're mouth," Drew stares.

You get all flustered and say, "It's not nice to be a tease, Drew."

He presses a light kiss to your jaw and mumbles, "Tell me what ya want, princess."

Almost begging him, you say, "I want to feel your fingers inside me. Please."

Gently, Drew starts to pull off your panties. The fabric is thrown to the floor and you pull off the bra. You're completely naked in front of Drew, and you feel comfortable. You trust that Drew won't do anything to hurt you. He's the kind of man to make sure that you're okay with something before he does it.

Drew runs a finger through your soaked folds before he pushes that finger inside of you. You bite your lip to hold back your moans. Drew's hovering above your naked body. His lips are on your neck again, nipping at the skin and definitely leaving marks.

His finger moves in and out of you. You let your lip go and let out the moans you were holding in. Then Drew adds a second finger. You gasp and moan, "Drew."

"Making ya feel good with just my fingers?" Drew mumbles against your neck.

You nod frantically and say, "I love your finger."

He smirks and says, "I can promise ya that they love ya too."

The speed of his fingers quickens and your hips buck off the bed. You moan his name and a few profanities. A knot forms in your stomach.

You're intoxicated with how Drew is making you feel. You love the feeling of Drew's fingers inside of you. His touch makes you feel euphoric and waves of bliss overcome you with every flick of his wrist.

Your walls clench around Drew's fingers and you cry out, "Drew, I'm about to cum!"

The Scotsman's voice drops a tone and he asks, "Ya gonna cum from my fingers, princess? Do I make ya feel that good?"

Nodding, you desperately say, "I need to cum. Please."

"Go ahead, my love," he says.

Your legs begin to shake as you release all over Drew's fingers. More than you ever have for anyone before. Moans pass your lips as well as Drew's name mixed with profanities. Your breathing is labored as you come down from your high. Drew kisses you as you try to catch your breath.

Your lips move feverishly against his for a few moments before Drew gets back on his knees. You sit up with him between your legs and undo the button on his jeans. You look up at him as you push the dark blue fabric off his body. He's left in his boxer shorts as he sits back. You crawl onto his lap, straddling his huge bulge. You run your fingers down Drew's chest and he looks up at you.

"I have t'get something if we're gonna do this, princess," Drew says, pecking your lips. "Unless ya want to start producing heirs t'the throne right now."

You giggle and say, "Let's wait a year before we start doing that."

He smiles and snakes his way out from under you. You sit on the bed and watch as he grabs a little silver package out of the travel bag. He walks back over to you and you move to the edge of the bed.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pull them down. Drew watches you as his erect member pops out of the boxers. His big, and thick. You swallow a bit and look up at Drew.

He's smirking down at you before ripping the tiny package open and sliding the contents on himself. Drew pushes a piece of hair out of your face and says, "Be a good princess. Get on yer back and spread those beautiful legs for me."

You don't say anything, you just do as your told. You scooch yourself back on the bed and lay on your back. You spread your legs a bit as Drew crawls up to you, hovering over you between your legs. The tip of his member runs through your folds and you sigh.

"I've been missing out on a lot," you admit, looking up at Drew.

Your husband lightly kisses you as he says, "I have a lot t'offer."

Smiling against his lips, you say, "I can see that."

Drew props himself up on his arms, hands on either side of your head. You stare up at him before he asks, "Are ya sure ya want this?"

You nod and say, "I've never wanted anything more."

Then he pushes inside you. You gasp at the small amount of pain you feel before it goes away, turning to pleasure. He thrusts slowly into you, moving deeper every few movements. His length starts to fill you little by little. You're a moaning mess beneath Drew, nails raking up and down his back.

When he's fully inside you and you're adjusted, his hips speed up. He starts thrusting harder into you. Grunts leave his lips as moans leave yours. You wrap your legs around his waist so he has better access.

"Oh, fuck," you cry out. "Don't stop, Drew. Oh, faster. Please."

He listens to your wishes and he moves faster. He leans down and brushes his lips against yours. You lean your head up for the kiss and he pulls back slightly. You chase his lips and they barely touch his.

The tip of Drew's member finds your g-spot and you cry out. That's when he knows he's found the target, and he moves faster. His member slams into your g-spot over and over again. You scream out his name mixed with profanities several times as he fucks you into the mattress.

The same knot from earlier forms in your stomach as Drew builds you up to a second orgasm.

Drew's finally kissing you. Your lips move against his breathlessly and your nails dig into his sides. He twitches inside of you and you mumble, "I'm about to cum, baby."

"Me too," Drew says. "Together."

You nod. He moves a few more times before you both cum at the same time. You around him and him into the condom.

Drew kisses you messily as you both ride out your highs. Your hands are on his face as you messily make out with him.

He pulls out of you and pulls back from the kiss. You whine a bit as he ties off the condom, throwing it away. Drew helps you under the comforter before joining you. Drew spoons you from behind with one of his arms draped over you. You hold his hand as you press your back to his chest.

Both your breathing and Drew's breathing have returned to normal. He leaves soft kisses on your shoulder and a smile is on you lips.

"That was amazing," you say. "I really could've had that the entire time instead of fighting with you."

Drew lets out a breathy laugh and says, "I should've just talked to ya about everything sooner. We could'a done that a long time ago."

You giggle and say, "Now that we have done that, I don't know how long I can go before we do that again."

Your husband says, "Whenever ya want, princess. Hell, if ya wanted another go then I wouldn't say no."

Looking back at Drew, you say, "Calm down. You just made me cum twice within several minutes. I need some time."

Drew smiles and says, "Of course. Were ya seriously about that waiting a year before we start trying for a baby?"

"Of course I was," you say, turning and facing Drew. "I would love to have a baby with you, but I want to make sure that it's something we both want. I'm ten year younger than you, Drew. We have some time."

Your husband smiles wide and kisses you. "I am so in love with ya, princess," Drew coos against your lips.

"I'm so in love with you too, Drew," you respond.

Months ago, you hated the thought of marrying Drew just for him to become king. You never even wore your rings behind closed doors. Now, it's changed into something more. An actual relationship where you love Drew and he loves you.

That's all you hoped for when you said 'I do' to the prince of Scotland.

—

tags: @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre x reader #drew x reader #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre fluff #wrestling imagine #wrestling fluff #wrestling smut #wwe imagine #wwe fluff #wwe smut #nswf imagine #imagines #imagine #smut #fluff #fluff imagine #smut imagine

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt.2

Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Again! Massive shoutout to @pirateismywayofspeaking for the constant support and ideas! And lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

—————————-

It’s a well known fact that there are three certainties in life; death, taxes and the willpower of one Penelope Garcia. In less than an hour she had somehow organized to get all your clothes and personal possessions delivered right to the BAU, packed in your favorite suitcases and all. A couple of things had to be kept in evidence because the UnSub might have come into contact with them, but all the important stuff was there. It was comforting, having your stuff safe with you and, as you sat through the long and rigorous process of being interviewed, you felt better.

“And you’re 100% sure that none of your employees could have possibly done this?” Rossi asked, “Maybe someone you recently fired? Or someone who has a history of violence?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Rossi, come on. Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to hire someone with a violent past?”

“You checked everyone out?”

“Full background checks on all three employees,” you agreed, “the harshest thing on any of their records was a parking ticket and a decade old charge for underage drinking.”

Hotch sighed, rubbing his temples right where you knew he got headaches.

“We know the poem is significant to the UnSub. It’s an old love poem, so it’s got to be someone who has some sort of connection to you,” he repeated, “it's personal.”

You shook your head, “Hotch, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t had a romantic relationship in years. There’s not a lot of time when you work 14 hour days.”

“Don’t we know it,” Rossi agreed, “so, a stalker, maybe?”

“That’s a hell of a way to make first contact,” you scoffed, “a phone call would be less risky.”

“And less effective.”

You conceded the point with a head tilt, and then looked back at Hotch, “Hotch, can we take a break? We’ve been at this for hours.”

“Of course,” he agreed, “get some rest, Y/L/N.”

“No, it’s okay, there’s work to be done here. I can stay,” you assured, stretching your stiff limbs.

Hotch shot you a look, but said nothing, obviously sensing that you weren’t going to give in without some sort of fight. Instead, he just gave you a terse nod, and walked out, leaving you with Rossi.

“You’re impossible, you know that, right?” He said.

You smiled, shrugging, “What can I say, Ros? I learned from the best.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and ruffling your hair as he walked past you, “Good to have you back, kid.”

The bullpen was busy when you walked back in, suitcases in hand, striding your way over to your old desk. It’s scary how little had really changed in the year since you’d been gone. Aside from Spencer’s semi-annual hair evolution, everything was the same; the smells, the sights, even the comforting clack of Garcia’s heels against the floor. It was comforting, almost painfully so but, as you reached your old desk, you noticed something was wrong.

“Whose stuff is this?” You asked, gesturing to the stacks of files and piles of paper scattered all over the surface.

“Mine,” Emily said, not even looking up from her work.

“But...you have a desk,” you pointed out.

“And now I have two,” she replied simply, “you can sit somewhere else.”

She was being stubborn and you felt a lick of irritation flare up inside your chest. Emily Prentiss had been one of your closest friends for years and, when you’d left the BAU, she’d taken it the hardest. Any other time, you would have understood her resentment but, given the circumstances, you weren’t feeling particularly generous.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “And where do you suggest I sit?”

Emily shrugged and gave you a sickly sweet smile, “You can share with Reid.”

You felt yourself flush with heat. Emily had known about your feelings for Spencer, she’d even encouraged you to act on them. You knew she’d never actually betray your trust, but even that subtle dig was enough to make you want to argue. You opened your mouth but, before you could say anything, Spencer interrupted.

“Here, Y/N,” he smiled, patting a spot beside him, “I’ve got space.”

You pressed your lips together, but relented when he took the time to pull an empty chair over for you to sit in.

“Thanks, Reid,” you said, taking the offered seat.

“So, did you and Hotch figure anything out?” Spencer asked.

You shook your head, “Nothing we didn’t already know. Rossi thinks it might be some kind of stalker?” You offered.

Spencer frowned, “A stalker? That doesn’t make any sense, what kind of stalker starts off their pursuit with a murder?”

“A very, very desperate one.” Emily offered.

You wanted to snap something like; ‘oh, so now you’re talking to me?’ but you bit your tongue. You knew you were on edge, and now wasn’t the time to lash out at the only people who could really help you.

“Or very deranged.” Spencer suggested

You shuddered, picturing a faceless man in all black running his blood soaked hands across your walls, drawing a jagged smiley face above your bed, memorizing the faces in your pictures. You exhaled and pushed the thought away.

“Does this even count as an escalation?” You asked, “I’m not sure there’s really anywhere to go from here.”

You were met with stony silence as Emily and Spencer inspected their respective files. You knew what they were thinking, what everyone was thinking; whatever this was, it was bad news.

“Do we know who our victim is, yet?” Spencer asked.

“Nope,” you sighed, “the UnSub burned off his fingerprints and removed several of his molars before he dumped the body, the ME is doing her best to get a DNA match, but it’ll take time.”

“The mutilation is odd, considering there wasn’t any evidence of torture on the victim before they died,” Spencer said.

“It’s gotta be a forensic countermeasure,” Emily agreed, “but it’s extremely sophisticated. Our UnSub must have experience with law enforcement.”

“But as a perp or a cop?”

You sighed and buried your head in your hands, letting the familiar back and forth wash over you like white noise. You’d had this conversation before, many many times, and it never got any easier. Usually you lived for the puzzle but, now that you were the one under scrutiny, it felt like your brain was rebelling against you.

“Y/N/N?” Spencer asked, touching your shoulder gently and snapping back to reality.

“Mm?” You replied.

His face softened as he took in the exhaustion radiating off your body.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, “Just a little drained, that’s all.”

The clicking of heels against the floor drew your attention and you looked up just in time to see Garcia swooping in with her purse.

“You ready to go, crime fighter?” She smiled.

“Go where?” You asked,

“Home!” She smiled, “I have the honor and privilege of hosting you tonight.”

“Garcia-“ you started.

“No! No arguing.” She insisted, “I’ve already found us a lovely little Thai place for dinner, and there’s a bunch of episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer lined up on my DVR.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes fondly, “I hate how well you know me.”

She smiled devilishly, “Sounds good, right?”

“It sounds incredible and you know that because you’re a super genius who knows literally everything.” You teased, pushing yourself onto your feet, “Okay, Wonder Woman, let’s go.”

As you made your way out of the office, you cast one last look over your shoulder, smiling when Spencer met your eye and gave you a small wave.

————————-

“Okay, Sugar Plum, spill,” Penelope pushed, handing you a full glass of wine, “how’re you really doing?”

“With what?”

Penelope shot you an incredulous look, “With, you know, all of it. The murder, the mystery, being back at work, the Spencer Reid of it all.”

You spluttered through a sip of wine, “The what? ‘Nel, you can’t be serious.”

“What? I’m just asking,” she insisted, “he followed you out earlier, you’re sharing a desk now...it wouldn’t be crazy if maybe your old crush came creeping back in.”

“Penelope” you started, “some creep dropped a dead body in my bookstore and broke into my apartment and you think I’m thinking about Spencer?” She didn’t answer, just raising her eyebrows and you sighed, sliding down the couch, “Okay so I’m pathetic.”

“No you’re not!” She insisted, “You guys were like two peas in a pod, back in the day. Plus, you’ve seen like a thousand dead bodies, you’re probably just desensitized.”

“Still,” you sulked, “I can’t believe I’m still thinking about Spence.”

“Naaaaaaaaw,” she swooned, squeezing your knee, “you called him ‘Spence’, you haven’t done that in ages.”

“Fuck off, Nel” you said without any real malice, burying your face in your hands and sighing again, “please tell me I’m being ridiculous.”

Garcia smiled, a knowing glint in her dark blue eyes as she sipped her wine and watched you squirm. She’d kept in touch with you when you left the BAU, insisting on weekly brunch meetups and girls nights and a million other things that you’re not sure you would’ve survived without. She’d been like a lifeline in those first few months and, because of that, she was the only one who really knew how hard leaving had been for you. She’d been the one who sat through the hours of crying and panicking and wondering who you were without your job, who’d held your hand when you went to get a small business loan, who’d sampled your cookie recipes and helped you design uniforms. Penelope Garcia had been there for all of it. You had a photo of the two of you together at the bookstore next to your bed. It was one of your most treasured possessions.

“Now, Sugar Plum, you know I’ve always had a soft spot for you and the Boy Wonder. He’s lovely, you’re lovely; he loves you, you love him, I love you both, it’s a match made in FBI heaven as far as I’m concerned-“

“But?” You prompted with a rueful smile.

“But,” Penelope agreed, “he took it really hard when you left, and I’m not sure how he’ll handle losing you a second time.”

You frowned, “He never lost me. None of you lost me, I just got a different job! It’s not my fault that basically no one bothered to keep in touch.”

Penelope’s face softened and she smiled at you sympathetically, “Pumpkin, you know it’s not like that. When you’re in the BAU, it’s like we’re living in our own little crime bubble, everything outside just kind of….fades, you know?”

“I know…”

“And with Spencer, well, you know he’s never been the best at dealing with abandonment, the poor thing’s been through so much already,” Penelope continued, “he tried to keep in touch. He really did, and he talked about you all the time.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

She sighed, “I don’t know. I guess I just-“ she shrugged and squeezed your knee again, “I don’t want you to think that he forgot about you, that’s all.”

You felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, and you gripped Garcia’s hand.

“Thanks, Nel.”

You knew she was right. Life in the BAU wasn’t like life on the outside; you lived by different rules, took different risks, valued different things. It was strange and intoxicating and you really couldn’t fault your teammates for continuing to play the game the way they always had. You’d chosen to leave and you had to live with the consequences of that.

“Can we talk about something besides boys now, please?” You asked, “I want this girl’s night to pass the bechdel test.”

She smiled and clapped her perfectly manicured hands, “Oh do not fret, ma Cherie because I’ve got so much to catch you up on-“

You listened with rapt attention as Garcia filled you in on the last twelve months of FBI gossip. You laughed together, ate Thai food and just relaxed together. With every Perfectly Penelope story, you felt a little more of your tension slip away and, by the time you made it to bed, you were feeling almost normal.

Penelope had made up the couch for you, complete with pillows and blankets and a homemade quilt. It was comfortable, too comfortable. So comfortable, that your brain had way too much time to mull over what Penelope had said earlier.

Spencer hadn’t just forgotten about you. What did that mean? He’d taken it hard when you left...the questions bounced around your mind like wasps, keeping you awake. Without meaning to, your mind started to drift, sifting through the years worth of memories you’d kept locked away in a box in the back of your mind.

————————

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” you laughed, “I’m fine, Spence.”

“You’re not fine, Y/N, you got shot.” Spencer reminded you, his eyes still sparkling with the relief of seeing you alive and in good spirits.

You were sitting in the back of an ambulance, a throbbing pain resonating from the wound in your shoulder as the police searched through the nearby crime scene and Spencer inspected your face. It was cold and dark, but the sirens and flashing lights meant that it was anything but peaceful, and you knew it would still be many hours before either you or Spencer got any sleep.

“Yeah well, we’ve all been shot,” you pointed out, “and, statistically speaking, we have a 100% survival rate.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but he was smiling so you knew he wasn’t too mad.

“You’re bastardizing my beautiful statistical analysis and using it for evil. Remind me why I’m bothering to check on you, again?” He teased.

“Because you loooooove me,” you teased back, jostling his shoulder with yours, “and because I just took a bullet to the shoulder for you.”

He chuckled but avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes, “Yeah that would explain it.”

Something in the atmosphere changed and you looked over at Spencer, noticing the way he worried at the inside of his cheek with his hands in his pockets. His brow was furrowed too, like he was sad, and something in your chest pinched.

“You alright there, doc?” You asked.

“Don’t do it again,” he said, looking up and catching your eye.

You paused, “don’t do what?”

“Take a bullet to the shoulder for me,” he explained, “get hurt trying to protect me. Promise me you won’t do it again?”

You pressed your lips together, recognizing the same feeling of fear and guilt in Spencer that you, yourself, felt any time someone you cared about was in danger. You reached out, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. Spencer held on for a second longer, his dark eyes filling with something as he took you in.

“You know I can’t promise that, Spence,” you said gently, “if we’re ever in a situation like this again….no way I’m just letting you die to avoid a couple of stitches.”

“No, you don’t-” he paused, getting himself worked up, “you don’t get it. I watched my girlfriend get shot right in front of me, I-I’ve lost so many people that I care about, Y/N, and I can’t lose anyone else. Not for something as stupid as my own life.”

“Your life isn’t some insignificant thing, Spence,” you insisted, “it’s important! To me, to the team, to everyone. We’re a family, Spencer, families have each other’s backs. Always.”

He took a deep breath and nodded, carding his fingers through his hair like he was agitated.

“Just-” he started again, “just promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I can’t.” you insisted, “I can’t make that promise.

He turned to face you, looking more tired than you’d seen him in weeks, “Then promise you’ll be careful. Promise me I won’t lose you too?”

Your heart ached, and you longed to reach out and wrap him up in your arms, but you restrained yourself.

“How about this; I’ll promise that you won’t lose me, if you promise that we’ll always be best friends, and that you’ll try to start valuing your own life as much as you value mine or Morgan’s, deal?” You offered, extending your hand for Spencer to shake.

Spencer frowned, opening his mouth to argue but, before he could, an agent interrupted.

“Agent Y/L/N? Dr. Reid? Agent Hotchner is looking for you.”

———————————-

You snapped back to reality with a jolt, and realised you were lonely. So much time had passed since that night, but you remembered it all perfectly, every detail. It wasn’t an especially meaningful night, there were a million moments just like it, but something about it had stuck. Maybe it was the potential, the wondering, that thing that he never got to say. You wish you’d gotten to hear it now.

You fumbled around in the dark for your cellphone, typing out a message and pressing send before you could think better of it. It was short, and to the point, and you would be shocked if he responded but, once it was done, you felt something in your chest loosen, like maybe you’d been wanting to send that message for a really long time.

To Spencer Reid: Hey, Reid? I’m sorry I left, I never meant to break my promise.

With the heavy weight of remembering suddenly lifted, you realised how tired you were, and you let sleep drag you under. If you’d stayed awake a little longer, you might not have missed the way Spencer kept typing, typing, typing away some message he never sent. Or the eventual response, which only came in three hours later:

You never broke your promise, Y/N. I broke mine.

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu

#jordsie #jordsie writes #cm #cm imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid headcanons #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x you #matthew gray gubler #Penelope garcia #penelope garcia imagine

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janicho88 · 4 years

Text

Falling For You -Part 6

January

Pairing- Dean xJo, Eventual Dean x Female!Reader, Past Reader x OMC Justin, mentioned.

Word count-6777

Warnings- REMEMBER SLOW BURN! We'll be interrupting the fluff you have had to bring you angst this chapter, along with unrequited feelings, heartbreak, and two morons who need to learn to talk to each other. Possible language, there is a dash of fluff. Seriously thought a lot of angst in this one. Sorry!

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU Thank you to @waywardbeanie and @whatareyousearchingfordean for helping me keep these 2 characters in line, letting me bounce ideas off of you, and send you random messages when something pops in my head.

I debated about posting today with everything with the finale last night. If you aren’t up to reading right now that’s perfectly fine.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door. Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to.

The New Year’s Party and its ramifications. Remember how we left the last chapter? Sorry!! I am going to try and have the next one out on Monday. Until then I think I’m going to go hide.

Series Masterlist

Nine days, since you have seen Dean. He sent a text this morning about getting together tonight, you have an appointment with Meg, but should be able to meet up with Dean first. You can’t wait to see him again. Just after your lunch break your phone beeps with a text. ‘Sorry Sweetheart, I’m going to have to stay late tonight. Tomorrow maybe?’

Of course he’s been away for a week Jo must be there today and he wants to spend time with her. Texting him back ‘Sorry I can’t tomorrow’ you return to your work. Charlie notices the change in your demeanor and comments on it.

“What happened to you? You were an unbearable rainbow of cheerfulness this morning, now it looks like someone stole your pot of gold?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Yeah and I’m dating the fairy queen. Spill.”

“I had dinner plans with Dean, he just canceled. It’s nothing.”

“Okay, but I don’t think you really believe that.”

That night at Meg’s dress fitting she wasn’t in the best of moods because her dress was a bit tight.

“Meg,” you tried to reason with her, “you scheduled this for days after Christmas, too many sweets over the weekend. You will be fine.”

“Nope time for bridal bootcamp. Diets and exercise in the New Year, no more random baking. We are going to look killer in April.”

“Am I to assume I’m doing this with you?” She just stared at you, Meg wasn’t the type of friend to beg. “Fine, at least I work out already. You are the one who’s going to have to get used to the gym again.”

Wednesday you got out of work at three and headed home to finish your deserts, get yourself ready and head out by 6 to help Meg set up. Knocking on the door Cas lets you in taking the orange cranberry cake from you. Following him to the kitchen Meg looks over when you enter.

“Are those deserts?” She raises her brows giving you a hard look as you set them out on the table.

Taking your time in replying, you turn back to her, “Yes, Bridezilla they are the two you asked me to make a few weeks ago. You have the round orange cranberry cake for good luck and the raspberry parfaits in wine glasses, they just need whip cream on top along with a cherry.

You said bootcamp starts in the new year, that’s tomorrow enjoy tonight. ”

“Who’s going to bootcamp?” Dean asked as he, Sam and Jess just joined you in the kitchen.

Jess walks over to check out what you brought and to give you a hug while Meg explains to Dean about her bootcamp.

“You are the best man Winchester, maybe you should join us.”

“I don’t think so, Meg. I just got a coupon book for Christmas and I fully intend to use it.” He looks at you with a big smile on his face, you send him back a small one. Okay maybe you were a tiny bit upset about him staying at work with Jo Monday.

Cas calls the guys into the other room while you and Jess help Meg, before he leaves Dean walks over to you. “I’m sorry about Monday. I was looking forward to seeing you. Can we talk later?”

“Sure Dean.”

When they leave Jess digs into her bag and hands you and Meg both a box. “Sam and I were talking today and I realized I had completely forgotten to give these to you guys when I did them last month. In my head we were already past this.” You and Meg looked at each other then Jess, not sure what she was getting at with the boxes. “Come on, open them!”

Carefully unwrapping and opening the box you just stared at its contents not sure what to say yet.

“Oh look,” exclaimed Meg, “the wino gave us wine!”

“You really want me to be your Maid of Honor?” You whispered. Meg’s request to be hers wasn’t a shock to you, Jess’ was.

“Yes I really do.” We’ve gotten to be great friends this last year, and I want you up there with me. We both know Meg won’t do it.”

“Nope, we have already had this discussion planning your wedding, I’m no one's bitch.”

You both shook your head at Meg and Jess started speaking again. “I have a cousin who will be in the wedding and a friend from work, but I’m not as close with them. I don’t have a sister yet, but I have a feeling one day soon I will. So yes, I want you. Please, don’t make me get Sam in here with the puppy dog eyes.”

“I would be honored Jess, I’ve had plenty of practice with Megzilla over there.” Meg stuck her tongue out at you before heading to pour you all a shot to toast with. “This is super cute by the way.”

“Thanks, how did Meg ask?”

Well, when Meg asked me she handed me an envelope with cardstock inside that said something about I was the only person she likes, will you be my Maid of Honor?”

“It’s true. According to my mother I had to have my two cousins in the wedding, but no way was I dealing with one of them as my MOH.”

“How did you ask them? You never did tell me.”

“Hey sluts you’re going to be in my wedding right?”

Looking at her a moment before you said anything, “I’d ask if you were joking, but I’m pretty sure you’re serious.”

“I am. Your ask was as fancy as I was getting. Okay enough wedding talk for the night, time to get the party started!”

It wasn’t too big of a party, besides the six of you a few of Cas’ friends from work were there, his brother Gabe, sister Anna both of whom had come up to visit Cas, and Charlie.

Later that night the guys are watching some competition in the living room while the ladies are hanging out in the kitchen. Charlie who was one of the last to arrive, looks over at you and asks “So is this infamous Dean here tonight, do I get to actually meet him?”

The punch you had just taken a drink of flying right back out. Meg grins looking over at you before turning to Charlie. “Has she been talking about one green eyed mechanic at work?”

“Practically every day, you should have seen how down she got Monday when he canceled dinner with her.”

Jess joins the conversation next, “Is she as in denial with you as she is with us?”

Finally finding your voice, “I’m not in denial.”

“You mean about how they are just friends, and she wasn’t moping at all last week when he was out of town. Or how she was fine when she wasn’t going to see him on Monday.”

“I wasn’t moping and I WAS fine on Monday.”

“Oh” Meg starts talking, no one is paying attention to you. “Have you seen the way her face lights up when she gets a call or text from him?”

“It does not.”

“Yes,” answered Charlie, “and you don’t even have to ask who it is, the face says it all.”

All three turn to look at you, “Oh are you actually going to acknowledge I’m here now? For the millionth time, we are just friends.” They all start laughing, rolling your eyes you turn away.

Jess comes over and puts her arm around your shoulders, “Come on Y/N, we are starting a new year shortly let’s start it honestly. How do you really feel about Dean?”

“Guys, I don’t know how to be any clearer. Dean and I are friends, simply friends. There will never be anything more. We are never going to date, or get married, please just drop it.”

Dean’s point of view

Checking my watch it’s after 11, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Y/N alone yet. If I’m going to sort everything out before midnight I need to go find her. Cas had come back into the room a few minutes ago so I asked him where the girls are and he directs me to the kitchen. Grabbing my beer I head that way. Standing in the hall near the door I can hear them laughing, but I don’t hear Y/N’s laugh. She has the cutest one. Then I hear Jess start talking and she asks Y/N about me. This could be perfect timing to what I want to talk to her about.

“Guys, I don’t know how to be any clearer. Dean and I are friends, simply friends. There will never be anything more. We are never going to date, or get married, please drop it.”

Her words were a knife through my heart. I guess it was the perfect time to realize I would be damaging our friendship if I told her how I felt. So much for mom’s intuition. Turning back around quickly, I head outside for some time alone.

Standing out in the cold with the snow blowing around so many thoughts running through my head. I was really hoping my mom was right about Y/N, I didn’t realize how much I had imagined she was and what was going to happen next with us. Then my thoughts unfortunately go to everything Lisa has thrown at me. Maybe she’s right and no one is going to really want me for me. Y/N knows so much about me, she’s really the first person I let in in a long time. I thought I could be myself around her but she saw who that was and she doesn’t want to be with me. She just made that perfectly clear. Hearing a car horn in the distance I think about work and what Benny had said this week. Jo doesn’t really know me, maybe it’s not too late to change for her to stay interested.

Back in the kitchen

Everyone was looking at you and you continued to pretend the floor was extremely interesting.

“If that were the truth and you really felt that way, you would be looking at us and saying it, not explaining it to the floor.” Meg tells you.

“Why do you keep insisting there is nothing there? We’ve seen the two of you together, and you were totally pouting at the party when he was late because of Jo. Your eyes were greener than Dean’s that night. What’s really going on, it's time to be honest with us.”

“You want the truth? Yeah, Dean is an amazing guy, probably the best one I’ve met. I’m not the girl for him. He deserves someone so much better than me. He likes to go out and do things, he likes horror movies and haunted woods. He needs someone who doesn’t get scared easily. Someone who isn’t going to hold him back and ruin his good time. Someone he can be proud to be seen out with. We all know that’s not me.” You turn away as you finish to hide the tears threatening to fall.

Meg and Jess exchange looks before Meg walks over and gives you a hug. “See this is where we don’t let Justin win. It’s time to move on and be happy.”

Jess appears on your other side, “Dean is nothing like Justin. If something scares you he’ll be there for you just like at the Halloween party. He won’t belittle you for it. He would be very proud to be seen with you. I’ve known Dean a long time Y/N, I haven’t ever seen him as happy as he is when he’s spending time with you. We aren’t kidding when we say we see the two of you together.”

“Thanks ladies, will you give me a minute.” Heading to the restroom to regroup you clean up smudged makeup and try and calm yourself down. Jess and Meg were right, it was time to move on. You also needed to stop wrestling your feelings for Dean down. You weren’t going to find a better guy than him anywhere.

Walking back down the hallway you saw Dean coming in the front door, his face looked a bit red must have been cold out there. Giving him a smile you walked his way, “Hey Dean you said you wanted to talk.”

“Oh yeah, it wasn’t important. I was just going to see how your week is going. I really want to see if this guy makes the jump I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” You watched him head back to the living room. A feeling in your gut told you something in that short conversation wasn’t right.

11:50 you helped Meg and Jess carry in glasses of champagne to the living room getting ready for the countdown. Meg made Cas turn on ‘Rockin New Year’s Eve Countdown’ that you all had been watching in the other room.

10..9..8..7..6..5..4..3..2..1.Happy New Year!! As you watched the couples around you kiss their significant other you turned to look at Dean who had walked away when you stood next to him before the countdown. His eyes briefly met yours before quickly turning away. You wished Charlie a Happy New Year before moving on to Meg and Jess, Dean had left the room before you reached him. Finally finding him in the kitchen with a beer.

“Happy New Year, Dean. I hope you have a much better one than last year.”

“Yeah well it’s off to one hell of a start,” he snarled out.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” You weren’t exactly sure what was going on with him. You were only minutes into the new year.

“Well I guess there is a lot I shouldn’t be feeling. See ya Y/N.” With that he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair quickly exiting the room, leaving a stunned you behind.

Starting the clean up in the kitchen you didn’t feel much like going back out and joining the rest of them. Meg found you a little while later most of the food cleaned up and put away.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Just picking up, I didn’t want you to worry about it.”

“You and Dean both disappeared; we thought you’d be making out somewhere.”

“Nope, just me, He grabbed his coat. I don’t know where he went.”

Over the next week you tried to make plans to meet up with Dean, but he either ignored your calls and texts or sent one word replies. It seemed he was too busy to get together with you right now. That Saturday you were heading back to your apartment with Charlie when you ran into Sam and Jess in the elevator.

“Hey Y/N, where’s Dean?” Sam asked you looking around.

“I haven’t seen him since the New Year’s party. He’s been acting a little weird. He's not with me, I don’t know. Why do you think I’d know where he is?”

Sam looked over at Jess before continuing, seeing her frown and shrug he reluctantly answered you. “He said he had a date tonight. We both thought it was with you.”

“No, not with me.” You are fighting to keep a neutral face and not break down when you answer. “Guess this goes to show we were only friends. I got to go, talk to you guys later.” Quickly exiting the elevator when it opened you rushed to your door with Charlie following behind.

Sam watched you go, he saw the hurt you were trying to hide and he felt so bad when he saw your face fall. My brother’s an idiot he thought to himself.

Once inside the safety of your apartment you paced from the living room to the kitchen and back again trying to calm down. Charlie was standing by the door watching, waiting to see what you were going to do next. Ten minutes later you were still pacing and Charlie answered the knock at your door. Meg entered not noticing what you were doing yet.

“Okay, I’m ready to talk about the groom's cake, Castiel is extremely excited you agreed to make that one. I want you to know, I am fully expecting you to go home with the best man after my wedding.”

At that you lost the little composure you were holding onto throwing yourself down on the couch grabbing a throw pillow and screaming into it, before those screams turned to tears.

“Okay, I thought we were past denying our feelings for Dean.”

She couldn’t understand your blubbering through the tears so Charlie translated. “She just found out from Sam that Dean’s on a date tonight.”

Meg picked up her phone dialing someone, “Are you home? Then get over here now. Y/N’s.” Turning to Charlie still standing by the door, “Will you open that?”

Confused, Charlie did as she was asked pulling it open, just as Jess came rushing in. Seeing you crying on the couch she rushed over to give you a hug. “I’m so sorry, Sam and I were sure it was you.”

You cried into her shoulder trying to once again push down the emotions you had finally admitted for Dean. Meg walked over to sit on the other side of you. “When did this happen, and who’s the chick? I texted Cas and he doesn’t know anything about it.”

“Sam asked Dean if he wanted to come over tonight and Dean said he had a big date tonight and couldn’t. He didn’t mention a name so we both thought…” She trailed off but looked down at you before looking back at Meg.

“What is he thinking? He’s..”

“It’s fine,” Your shaky voice cut Meg off before she could keep going. “I’m just over reacting anyway. I told you guys he didn’t see me as more than a friend. He told me he didn’t want to get back out there and date. I guess he just meant he didn’t want to date me.”

Taking a deep breath you continued, “Justin was right I’m not worth it. I would have just ruined things between us anyways. I ruin everything, that’s probably why Dean is dating someone else. He’s tired of me ruining things for him.”

“What do you think you ruined?” Meg wants to know.

“I don’t know but obviously something.”

“Oh honey, that’s not true at all, Dean couldn’t do any better than you.” Jess said, giving you another hug.

“It’s okay. This will be for the best.”

“Do you really believe that?” Jess asked you.

“Eventually I will.” Giving her one more hug you get up to get yourself a drink of water. You glance at the picture frame sitting on your end table, laying it flat as you go by, willing the tears to stay away. Blowing your nose before heading back you try to act like you have it put together. Fake it till you make it right?

“You came over to talk wedding Meg, let’s talk about something happy.”

“It’s okay it can wait for another day.”

“No, I can wallow in my own self pity when I’m alone, it’s fine.”

The girls try their best to distract you for the evening and you let them think they are. They don’t need to know that every other thought is Dean on a date with someone else. You know this means things are going to have to change for you.

Over the next week Jess and Meg both tried to get you out of your apartment in the evenings, but you kept finding excuses to avoid them. One night you even had to leave your apartment so Jess would believe you actually were going out. Granted you sat in your car for an hour in the parking lot, but at least she left you alone the rest of the night. You just didn’t feel right hanging out with them right now. Yes, they were your friends, but you had gotten used to spending time with them along with Dean. That wasn’t an option any more. Dean was Sam’s brother and Cas’ best friend. He wasn’t going to stay away from them. You couldn’t handle seeing him with his new girlfriend right now so you stayed away. Not to mention you would be the odd one out now, everyone else being in a relationship.

Speaking of the man, you never heard from him this week. Nothing since Friday when you asked him if he wanted to come over or go out and grab dinner. All you got was a text back with ‘Can’t.’ This was the longest you've gone without talking since you met. You really missed your friend, but it looked like you would have to get used to that.

The weekend after you found out about Dean’s new girl you were sitting on your couch watching Hallmark movies. Why couldn’t things in your life work out like that. Meet a great guy, he actually likes you, maybe there was a smidge of drama then happy ever after. But your life wasn’t a romantic comedy. You didn’t think you would ever get that happy ever after. A knock interrupted your pity party for one.

Meg, Jess, and Charlie were on the other side, great they were teaming up now. This meant you couldn’t use one of them as an excuse to the others. Before you could even say anything Meg pushed the door open.

“Hi, we’re coming in. Apparently you have been using the three of us to tell the others you have plans with the other. So if we are all together, you can’t avoid us.”

“I just wasn’t up for anything this week.”

“Well at least you got out of the here Thursday with Charlie,” Jess remarked smiling at you.

“No she didn’t,” cut in Charlie.

Jess turned to look at you with raised brows and you looked at the floor. “I may have gone and sat in my car so you would think I left.”

“Y/N!”

You just shrugged and walked back to the couch. Jess and Charlie sat on either side of you while Meg stood in front of you. “You need to get out of here and get your mind off of Dean.”

“I do get out of here, I go to work. I’ve even been to the grocery store and the gym.”

“Doesn’t count. We are dragging you out of here tonight, nothing drastic, just dinner and friends. Go change.”

“Do I have a say?”

“You can pick the restaurant.”

“Fine, give me a minute.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it the girls were right. You enjoyed the time out with them, and they successfully got your mind off of what’s his name. Then Meg started talking about Jess’s birthday. You completely forgot that it was coming up, and that she shared a birthday with Dean.

“We are having a get together at his house since it’s bigger. Mary and John are coming up for the weekend, too. We both have friends from work coming. You three will all be there right?”

The other two readily agreed, you took a moment to think about it. Besides Meg, Jess was your best friend, and at one point Dean was too. It was actually his thirtieth birhday. You really should go. “Yes, I will be there. Is there anything you want me to bring?”

“I’d love anything you wanted to bring.”

“Okay, I’ll come up with something.”

With the promise of attending the party the girls let up on you over the next week, letting you do your thing. Going through your recipes you found the perfect dessert to take for Jess. You knew the girl loved blueberries. Deciding to play nice you even made something for the birthday boy.

Arriving at the party you knocked on the door and luckily Sam was the one who greeted you. Giving you a genuine smile he hugged you before ushering you in. Taking one of the desserts and gifts from you he led the way to the kitchen. Jess and Meg inside finishing up the food when you entered. The Birthday girl rushing over to hug you.

“I’m so happy you came!”

“Happy Birthday Lady! I told you I would.”

“Yeah, but we weren’t so sure you would actually make it.” Sticking your tongue out at her you went to set the deserts up.

A few minutes later you heard Dean walk in followed by Mary. She came over giving you a great big hug.

“So good to see you again, hunny.”

“It’s good to see you also Mary. How have you been?”

“Good, good. How about you? Anything new, anything to share?”

“Not really, things are okay, just been working lately.” She gave you a strange look before smiling at you.

Seeing Dean watching you from behind her you said hello.

“Y/N, hey.” Walking closer, he looks at the table, “Did you bring pie?”

“Yeah, a cherry and a blueberry.”

“Oh awesome! Thank you.”

“No problem, Happy Birthday.”

Others started to arrive shortly and Jess and Dean both went into the living room to greet people. As the party was underway you noticed a blonde attached to Dean’s side. That must be the girlfriend, you thought. Meg came up beside you, “I heard her name is Jo. I guess he met her at the shop.”

“He’s mentioned her before. He was with her the night of the Christmas party, but he told me they were just friends. Guess that was a lie.”

Doing your best to keep your distance you tried to enjoy your night. Sam introduced you to Dean’s coworker Benny. He seemed like a nice guy. The two of you talked for a bit before he moved on. Not realizing how close you were to Dean you hear Mary ask him who the girl was. Turning you saw Jo walk back over then.

“I’m Jo, Dean’s girlfriend.” If you had been facing them you would have seen Dean’s eye go wide.

Quickly walking off to find Jess you miss the rest of the conversation. Finding your friend you wish her a happy birthday again, but claimed a bad headache and told her you will be heading out. Grabbing your coat from the office you make a hasty exit before anyone can stop you.

Dean’s Point of View

I was surprised to see Y/N in the kitchen, but if I’m being honest it was really good to see her. It hurt to know how she really felt about me. Because of that, yes, I have been trying to distance myself, but I missed my friend. I had not talked to her in two weeks. Walking over to see what she brought I’m betting it something for Jess. I wasn’t expecting to see the pies, oh my mouth started watering. Missed that girl's baking so much, along with well pretty much everything else about her. The doorbell started ringing so I headed out to answer it, not sure what else to say to Y/N.

Jo shows up shortly after the party starts. She immediately attaches to my side. I wish she would give me a little space. She has been like this since I asked her out. I was supposed to have a boys night with Sam, Cas, and Benny last week. We were at the sports bar downtown watching the game, had just ordered food. Probably only been there twenty minutes. The next thing I know Jo is standing beside me. When I asked her what she was doing here, she said she was just passing by and wanted to check in with me. Honestly a simple text would have worked if that’s what she wanted, not that it was needed. I thought she would leave after I introduced her to Sam and Cas, but she ended up sitting down on my lap and sticking around. Probably why they both left at half time. Benny stayed a little longer, even he made a comment to Jo about finding her own seat.

When I tried to make plans with Sam one night when she was closing the bar she insisted that I come in with her instead. Apparently there is some creepy guy who comes around. Hangs around outside some nights by her car. Makes her really nervous. I asked if she has called the cops, but she says he’s never around when they show up. Every night she has worked I’ve ended up going in with her. She told me how happy Bobby and Ellen were that I was around so nothing would happen. I guess that’s what you do when you are dating someone right. I don’t want her to think I’m useless.

I watch Y/N as the night goes on, it seems like she is trying to avoid me. I’m not really sure why she would be upset with me. Every once in a while I will see her glancing over, but she quickly looks away. I wonder what’s going on with her. Heading into the kitchen for another drink, Jo follows close behind.

“Here do you want a cookie?”

She tries to hand me some store bought thing, “No, thank you. Y/N, made me pie. I’m going to wait till we cut into those before I have dessert.”

“You aren’t dating her, why would she be making you something? I’m sure these cookies are better than some pie anyway.”

“She’s a good friend, she was being nice. Actually nothing tops…. that cookie, I’m sure.” If she wants me to eat that stupid cookie for some reason, I guess I will. I assume I never mentioned my love of pie to her.

When I’m alone mom comes over and asks about who the girl with me is. Before I can say anything Jo is right back here calling herself my girlfriend. When I finally get over that shock I manage to respond. “We have just gone out a few times.”

“A few times? Dean, honey we spend most nights together.” I didn’t realize we were counting all the nights I had to sit at the bar to keep the guy away as dates.

We have been together for two weeks, I didn’t realize it was going to be this much work. Looking around I don’t see Y/N anywhere. When Jess ushers everyone to the kitchen for cake, pie, ice cream and singing I still don’t see her. I ask Meg as soon as I get the chance, I guess she told Jess she wasn’t feeling well and went home.

I went to grab a slice of pie as mom was cutting everything and Jo pulled me away. “You don’t need that, I got us a piece of cake to share.”

“Cake, yea!” I’ll just grab some after she leaves.

Presents followed shortly. Most of mine were over the hill, prank gifts.

Jo gave me a ‘I have the best girlfriend’ shirt, and a picture of her, just awesome. Do I really have to wear this? The last gift I opened was from Y/N. I was again surprised after how I was avoiding her that she got me anything. That’s just the kind of person she is, always thinking about others. Opening it I found the blue ray box set of All Saint’s Day, The DVD set I had was ruined by Lisa one night when she got mad at me. I knew Y/N wasn’t a fan of the movies, but had offered to try and watch one of them with me when I came back from Kansas at Christmas. We never got to do that.

“My gift was your favorite right?” Jo asks, wrapping herself around my arm.

“Ah, yeah, yeah it was.” Giving her a smile I nodded my head not trusting to say anything else.

As the party wound down and everyone except for my parents, Sam and Jess, had left I couldn’t be happier to have everyone out of the house. Cas and Meg were some of the last to leave, usually they’d stick around but Cas said they needed to get going. I think Meg is mad at me for some reason. I don’t know if I’m frustrated or happy that Jo didn’t stick around to help clean up. Deciding on happy for a bit of peace, I go to grab me some pie. Looking at the table and in the refrigerator I can’t find it. “Hey, where is the rest of the pie?”

“Gone, it was very popular. I have Y/N’s dishes in the dishwasher. There is cake, the cookies your girlfriend bought and a little of the blueberry fluff Y/N made left.” Mom answers, I swear her tone changed when she said girlfriend. Nah, I must have been imagining it.

“Seriously, none left? I’ll take the blueberry, you can toss those cookies.”

Sam and Jess left shortly after and dad went up to bed, leaving me in the living room with mom. She sits across from me on the couch in silence. Something's coming I can just tell, ten bucks says it has to do with Jo.

“Well that was a surprise.”

“What’s that mom?”

“That girl being here, connected to your side.”

Ten bucks to me! “I asked her out a couple weeks ago. Her stepdad owns the shop I work at.”

“When you told me you had a date last week, I was expecting Y/N.”

“Yeah that’s not going to be happening.” She starts to say something else. “Just drop it mom. Please. You were wrong about her.” With that I went up to bed.

Your apartment that night

You came home from Dean’s house grabbing the container of ice cream from the freezer and turning on the television. You had no idea what you were even watching, you weren’t focused on that at all. How could you be so stupid to fall for a guy that you were never going to be good enough for. He only saw you as a friend, and that was just until he found a girlfriend. Now with the way he had been acting, you weren’t sure if he even needed you as a friend anymore. Putting the ice cream back in the freezer you were headed back to the couch when your eyes landed on Scooby. The plush was sitting on the table next to the couch. He was a big reminder of what you couldn’t have. Talking him into the office you set him in the closest with spare bedding.

“Sorry buddy I just can’t look at you right now.” Leaving the room you went back and curled up on the couch with your blanket, ending up crying yourself to sleep there.

A knock woke you the next morning, you were slightly disoriented from sleeping on the couch. Without thinking you headed for the door first, extremely surprised to see Mary Winchester on the other side.

“Morning, oh honey are you alright?”

“Hi Mary, yeah I’m okay. Are you here for me, or Sam and Jess?”

“I was bringing your dishes from yesterday back, and wanted to chat. We didn’t get much of a chance yesterday. Are you sure you’re alright? You look upset.”

Oh yeah, how could you forget all the crying you did last night. No wonder she’s worried about you. “Yeah, I’m sure. Come on in.”

Mary walked in ahead of you noticing the blankets on the couch like you had most likely slept there. Pushing them to one side you gestured for her to sit down. “Thank you for bringing those back, that was really nice of you. I don't have any coffee, but can I get you juice, milk, or water?”

“No, I’m fine but thank you.”

“Okay, I’m going to go brush my teeth real quick I’ll be back.” She chuckled as you rushed into your room. Quickly brushing your teeth and splashing water on your face you grabbed a different sweatshirt to throw over your tshirt and headed back out to the living room.

“Sorry to stop over unannounced, I didn’t mean to wake you up. John and I are leaving today and I wanted to talk to you first.”

“I was a little surprised to see but you’re fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I was surprised last night also, I had heard Dean was dating someone. Honestly I thought it was going to be you.”

Picking up a blanket to fold you used that as an excuse not to look at Mary. “Dean doesn’t see me like that. I was just a friend. Trust me Dean deserves a much better girl than me. I hope Jo can be that for him and make him happy.”

Mary wasn’t sure what to do with you, you were as negative about yourself as Dean. But she was pleased to hear that you worried about Dean’s happiness. “Wait what do you mean was a friend?”

“Things have been strained between us since New Year’s Eve for some reason. Then yesterday was the first I saw or talked to him since he started dating Jo. I don’t think he wants me as a friend anymore. Maybe that’s for the best right now. It really hurts to see him with Jo, or anyone else,” you finished your sentence in a whisper.

“Y/N, do you have feelings for Dean?”

Out of blankets to fold you looked for something else, finding nothing you sat down on the couch. “Yes, but I’m not going to do anything to mess up his relationship. I know I’m the only one with them.”

Coming over and giving you a hug Mary whispers, “I’m not sure what’s going on with Dean right now. I don’t ever want to hear you say you aren’t good enough again. My son would be very lucky to have you. Don’t write him off just yet.”

“Thank you Mary.” A short while later she left having to get back to Dean’s. You had a quiet rest of your Sunday at home, getting ready to start your work week. The week seemed to drag on a bit. You were really missing the random texts Dean used to send you. They always made your day a bit brighter.

Meg came over Friday with magazines notes, and a list of websites to go through. Apparently as maid of honor your duty tonight was to try and help her find the best wedding favors. Or at least narrow it down for her to show Cas. Jess joined you a short time later. You ordered a pizza and put in a movie while coming up with ideas for Meg. You might not get married or find Mr. Right, but you could live vicariously through Meg and Jess these next few months.

The wedding things put away you three were on the couch when Meg spoke up. “Cas said he barely talks to Dean anymore. Sees him even less.”

“Sam is so mad at him. They have made plans to get together or hang out and Dean either has to cancel because Jo needs him, or she ends up tagging along. When Dean asked him to come out tonight Sam told him he was too busy. He didn’t want to have to put up with her. I only met her at the party, but Sam’s not very fond of her. Apparently she has some stalker-like guy who hangs around the bar, and she needs Dean to be there whenever she’s working so the guy won't try anything.”

“Why not call the cops or get a restraining order? Cas is hoping it ends soon too. He says Dean has been acting really weird since he started seeing Jo.” Both turn to you for your opinion.

“Dean and I don’t talk anymore so I wouldn’t know.”

“Wait,” Jess sits up to look at you. “I knew things were a little strained between you. But you don’t even text anymore? You guys were always going back and forth.”

“Other than briefly on your birthday, we haven’t talked since he started dating her. It hasn’t been like it used to be between since New Year’s.” Getting up to head into the kitchen you pause to get your emotions back in check. It doesn’t matter one way or another to you if Dean keeps seeing her or not. When you can believe that lie you will be all good.

Thank you for reading!

Part 7

Tags @talesmaniac89 @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth @anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83 @atc74 @sandlee44 @akshi8278 @fantasydevil2002 @nervousfandom

Falling For You tags- @halesandy @abuavnee @hearteyesj2 @vicmc624 @440mxs-wife @wonder-cole @maralisa124 @krazykelly @unicornqu33n17@bobbie3939 @cutestdolans @supernatural-love14 @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @waywardwifey

#Falling For You #Dean x Female Reader #dean x reader #supernatural

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catflorist · 4 years

Text

The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

pt 8: roots

"Your hair is so long now," Ino said, over a quiet dinner at Sakura's apartment. "Are you sure you don't want me to cut it?"

"It's okay, Pig," Sakura said, moving the food around on her plate.

"I'm going to miss seeing that forehead of yours," Ino said, voice bright, but she wasn't eating either.

Silence fell, and the food grew colder. Hime leapt onto the tabletop and pestered Ino for affection.

"Ino." Sakura took a deep breath. "Can you tell Tsunade-shisou and Kakashi-sensei not to worry?"

Ino touched Sakura's shoulder. "Of course I'll tell them."

The next day, Karin knocked at the door, carrying a traveling pack. Inside was a stack of Sasuke's clothes, neatly-folded with uchiwa fans facing up.

"I know a lot of his things must already be here," Karin said. "But I went by his place, and I thought you would like to have these."

"Aren't you coming?" Sakura asked.

Karin wrinkled her nose. "Jugo's found his calling. Suigetsu's students are pretty needy, and they cry a lot as it is. There's also my research. If I leave, I just know someone will ruin my samples." She looked out Sakura's window. "I think this village needs us now. We'll watch over it for you both."

When she visited Naruto, Sakura spoke directly, for his sake.

"I'm leaving, and I don't know if I'll be back," she said, hands folded on his kitchen table.

Naruto's eyebrows knit together. His features were built for joy, and Sakura did not know how to react to this sober expression.

"You're wearing the dobe's shirt," he protested quietly, staring at the floor. "Don't you want some of mine?"

Sakura let out the breath she was holding and sorted through his closet.

"Don't take that one, it has a stain…ouch!" Naruto cried, as Sakura crushed him in a hug.

"Ogenkide," she whispered to her friend. Be well even if I don't see you.

The news broke on the sixth day. Uchiha Sasuke had abandoned his mission and once more cemented himself as a rogue nin. He did not even make it to Suna.

Whether he had made the choice, or the mission's absurd structure led to his failure, Sakura didn't know. The village had what they wanted.

For weeks after, Anbu agents followed her, Team Taka, and Naruto around the village. Sakura would wake up in the middle of the night at the slightest sound––the sink dripping, Hime purring. Her chakra never ceased boiling under her skin, prepared to fight at any moment. But after it became clear Sasuke was gone, and would not attempt anything rash, the Anbu vanished.

Sakura worked without rest to establish her pediatric center. It might be her last contribution to the village, and she wanted to do it right.

A year passed before the center was built, staffed, and operational.

Sakura packed her belongings, mostly her selection of Naruto and Sasuke's clothes, and did not request a leave of absence. She said her goodbyes.

One task remained. Sakura visited the square on her way to the village gates. Facing the council building she built, Sakura understood her mistake. It was impossible to coax deep-rooted, corrupted things to grow into a more pleasing shape. It was better to tear them from the soil and start fresh.

Murmurs of creaking wood filled the night air. The council building ungrew, shrinking back to the earth. In the morning, the citizens of Konoha discovered a tree marking where their government was once seated. This was Sakura's parting gift.

As Sakura resided by the ocean, a young Sasuke appeared, again and again.

First he attacked her, then he pestered her with questions. Finally, he did not want to be around her at all. In the same moment he slipped into her home, he was already moving to slam the door on his way out.

Months passed and Sasuke's visits remained as consistent as the tides. Eventually his anger cooled to resentful acceptance. He did not even bother to punish her door. Sakura grew used to the sight of him sulking outside the house.

Beyond her long hair, Sakura made no effort to hide the uchiwa fan adorning her back. The answers to Sasuke's questions were obvious, if he cared to look, but he was blinded by pain and anger. Even if she told him the truth, he would not believe her.

One night Sakura awakened with a flash of movement outside the window. Sasuke knelt on the beach, curled over himself, shoulders trembling. The sound of his splash as he dove into the ocean broke the quiet of the night. Despite the fire and lightning in his blood, he plunged into the water like he couldn't breathe without it.

Sakura pulled the comforter from her own bed and walked down to the shore.

Sasuke trudged onto the beach. Without meeting her eyes, he accepted her offering. Soaking wet, the blanket comically large around him, for once he looked his age. The water had washed away all his defenses. A tired boy remained.

In his own world, Sakura did not know if he slept well at night, if he ate enough, if he stayed warm. When he accepted her blanket, she shivered in relief. At least in this moment, she ensured he was not cold, and alone.

Sasuke finally accepted her tea, so Sakura knew it was the last time she would see him.

"You know what this is—why this is happening. At least say that much."

Today, he might understand. Sakura decided to answer. "Yes. I know why this is happening."

"How do you know?"

"I know because you told me."

The crease between his brow softened. Sakura bit her tongue to keep from crying, Don't you see? All this time, it's you I've been waiting for.

"Sakura––" he said. As her name dropped from his mouth, he took a step closer to her own Sasuke.

He slipped away. Sakura's role was over. The rest was his to uncover.

Hime darted down the path. Sakura squinted in the sun. A dark-haired figure bent to scratch the black cat between her ears.

The wind ebbed, and the waves quieted. Even the seabirds were no longer crying.

Sakura rose. She thought she would run to meet him, but her feet were roots anchoring her to the earth. It was all too dreamlike. If he were to turn on his heels and depart down the path, Sakura would not feel a thing. She would keep waiting until she dissolved into sand and seafoam.

Sasuke tilted his head to the sea. "Do you mind if I wash, first? I've come a long way."

A breeze picked up, rustling Sasuke's clothes, lifting Sakura's long hair.

"Take your time," Sakura said. "I'll be here."

Sasuke dropped his belongings where he stood. On the beach he undressed and dipped into the waves.

When enough time passed, Sakura brought him a change of clothes. He emerged from the waves without concealing his bare body, and Sakura did not look away. He dried off and pulled on the fresh clothes. Matching uchiwa fans winked on their backs.

He pulled her close, the spell broken. His skin was damp. Sakura buried her face into his neck. Tears came slowly, then they racked her body. She shuddered with a year's worth of sobs.

Sasuke traced her spine. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered. "It seems I've kept you waiting again."

When Sakura kissed him, he tasted like salt.

All her waiting was done. She and Sasuke were once more illuminated by the same sun, swimming through the same pool of time.

In the southernmost tip of Fire country, there was a beach where two rock formations rose from the water. A weathered house perched by the shore, next to a long wooden dock housing a rickety fishing boat.

Seasons did not change in the south, so there were other markers of time––how many repairs Sakura performed on the house, how many seashells Sasuke added to the mantle of the hearth. They trained on the beach every morning, because old habits were hard to break. Tomatoes grew especially well in the loamy soil of their garden.

It was a peaceful life. No one knew where they were. No one was looking for them.

"What are you thinking about?" Sakura asked, sitting on the edge of the dock. A black-tailed gull alighted next to her, peering at their catch of the day.

Sasuke was staring at the blue sky, his long hair tied back. "I haven't slipped in a long time."

"You look a lot like you did, when I first saw you," Sakura said. "It could happen any day now."

"One last trip, then."

Sakura could not say why, but she was certain of this, too.

Sasuke tilted his head back. "The last time Itachi and I saw each other was a day like this."

Sakura watched waves roll under the dock. In a quiet corner of Konoha, a tall stone listed the names of each slain Uchiha. No stone bore Itachi's name. He had no resting place, no marker to commemorate his existence.

Her hands quietly shaped the familiar signs. A column of wood rose up the side of one rock formation. Branches stemmed from the main trunk, sprouting foliage. Like training the limbs of a fruit tree into orderly lines, Sakura twisted and curved the branches into the shape she envisioned.

The image of a raven in flight grew into the rock face, a relief of stone, branch, and greenery. Cliffside sculpture, honoring not six Hokage, but Itachi, and all the souls sacrificed in Konoha's name.

"It suits him," Sasuke said, reaching for her hand. "Do you ever think about the village?"

"Yes," she said. "Every day. I wonder if anything has changed."

To her surprise, Sasuke smiled. There was a familiar glint in his eye.

"You know something. Don't you?"

"I know something," he said, "though it took some time to understand."

He whispered it in Sakura's ear.

When Sasuke received the Rinnegan, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he faced a god. On the other end, he was standing on a hilltop, gazing at a Konoha he did not recognize.

The Hokage mountain was a wall of green. Trees grew straight up the cliffside, a vertical forest. Foliage and vines hung like a curtain over the Hokage faces. Here and there, the corner of a mouth, the center of a large eye, a colossal tuft of hair, poked through the vast greenery. Sasuke wouldn't describe many things as beautiful, but the word came to mind.

A dark-haired young woman with glasses joined him on the crest of the hill. She had a delicate chin and a toughness to the bend of her spine. Sasuke remained silent. He could tell, by now, when someone was expecting him.

"We added to the monument," she explained, following his gaze. "It wasn't right to destroy it. It's important to remember. But a lot has changed. This isn't a place that carves faces into cliffs, anymore."

"You're not Sakura," he said.

"No, I'm not."

"Who are you, then?"

"Sarada."

He remembered this name from a dream.

"Uchiha Sarada," she continued.

Sasuke frowned. "Prove it."

Sarada drew in a deep breath. A wave of heat scorched Sasuke's face as she exhaled the signature fireball jutsu of the Uchiha clan. Flames larger than the crowns of trees licked the air, but none of the surrounding grasses were set alight. She possessed a fine control over her chakra that he had only seen in one other person.

The flames receded. "I can activate my Sharingan if you like," Sarada offered, touching a finger to her chin.

"No need," Sasuke said, smiling. Her eyes reminded him of Itachi's. "I see it."

He slipped back to fight alongside his teammates. To shape his future.

fin

–––––––––– this story is about two people finding each other. it's about trusting in yourself and in your heart. it's about doing the work to shape the world and the future you want––and at the end the ocean will be waiting.

thank you to: ––theredconversegirl and myr_art whose work first introduced me to the concept of time travel sasusaku ––my partner who spent hours close-reading every sentence so it could become a better story ––my friend di for her endless support and enthusiasm for everything i write ––every single person who has read and ever will read this story. even if you're reading 5 years in the future, please leave a comment so I can thank you for following along this journey with me! (and let me know if the pandemic over yet?)

and that's it! thank you, thank you, thank you! roya

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ss fic #ss #my ss #my fic #the time being

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